#while honestly being more of a quiet and determined soul at his core that is most like Karai - with the same hope and love for family | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sk3tch404 · 1 year

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Yandere Shiva General Hcs (Record of Ragnarok)

A/n: Normal schnormal human reader. Shiva is a meanie but is very affectionate. I also have only watched the anime, so I'm only making bout 6-??? Assumptions and making the gods win bc eh plot reasons. Also platonic relationship with his wives ✌ 257 words I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS GOODBYE. Failing as a writer 💀

CW: Half-proof read (Yeah yoikes but this gets real long after rereading it a thousand times over) Kidnapping, forced affection, forced marriage, isolation, neglect, and Shiva being an arse-hole but a lover boy 🤦 (??? Weirdly enough)

I also just learned that the reason why Shivas first wife isn't known is bc Paravati is the reincarnation of Sati (Shivas first wife) after she died. So technically only 3 living wives in total. (Plz correct or educate me on Hinduism if you can!)

The more you know 💁🏻

Why he truly added you to his column of lovers is a question you may never have answered.

By the naked gods eye, you were nothing special really. Just another dead human in the heavens who is also spectating the final battles.

The afterlife isn't so bad once you've been in it for enough. Valhalla can be peaceful and honestly perfect at times when gods aren't feuding.

Once you heard the gods were holding an important final battle that would determine mankind's fate, it shocked you. Would that also determine human souls in Valhalla? What if the humans were to win? (As blasphemous as that sounded)

The ideal afterlife was supposed to be free of stress, anxiety, pain, emotional distress, and so on, but no. Of course it would never be like that. That's only wishful human thinking.

If there were no potential penalty for badmouthing high status idles, you'd say that the gods were worse than humans when it comes to ego.

Now, Shiva doesn't believe in love at first sight. The stories involving all four his wives have been a adventurous and treaded journey. He does not fall so quickly for such average beings.

But he's seen you before in the arena. Beyond the sea of humans, you stand with only yourself. You chose your seat in a secluded area and paid full attention.

As much as you seemed to isolate yourself from other souls, your eyes burn a similar passion for chaos and a strange fascination for the situation.

It caught him off guard for a second. Strange isn't it? Unlike all of these other ignorant ruffians, you enjoy a good lesson. You're not here just for the fighting and trembling anticipation that comes with the final results. You wanna observe things in educated fashion.

It's cute in a way. A lowly human soul so fixated on the final battle. If you get lucky, (his definition of lucky) he might recognize recognize you later.

Low and behold, he did. Your presence so quiet, yet so mesmerizing. Not interested in anything other than yourself and these sequence of events... How could you not be as entranced by him as he passes by? Yes a sparing surprised glance is earned, but you continue your path. How could he make you turn his way as he does for you?

Shiva will not take you so quickly. He does have a place in the arena, so he can't risk the chance of you not being in his 24/7 supervision for the first week or so. (Plus the soul threatening fight too but yk)

Though he will approach you! Somewhat teasing you in a way. Your fearful face and neck craned upwards while he is hovering over you excites Shiva. A burning dwells in his core, and you make him shiver.

It's only small talk and "hinting" at certain things to come, but it's not too forward.

"Hey, it's you! The lonely human! Yeah I know you. I could feel your eyes from across the arena y'know. For a weak soul, you really like this sort of thing huh?"

During his fight, not only did Rudra and the many people cheering for him motivate him to win, but also did your presence! The crowd is a blurry swarm of colors and movements alike, but he could practically feel your eyes on him.

He knew you couldn't stay away for long. I mean, how could you? Shiva is just perfect for you, and you've basically said you wanted to marry him based on your reaction to his fight.

While he takes his time healing his arms and various wounds, he keeps up with the battle scores and your whereabouts.

He's the god of destruction, and is very resourceful when he needs to be. His free time is filled with researching you on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and sometimes Saturday when his wives are busy.

By the time the gods win, Shiva has healed up pretty good thanks with the help of medical attention and the abilities of his wives.

He talks about you to his wives pretty often, and they don't mind. As long as it's what Shiva wants, then it's okay with them! Three of them has been okay so far, what's one more? The more to love right?

You're shocked with the results of the final battle. Of course this was the obvious end, but it was nice to have hope for humanity for once. People came together regardless of religion, and now all of living human kind is being erased

It seems the gods didn't care about human souls the had pre-existed in Valhalla, so you were safe for now.

Or so you thought.

You sat in your humble home, taking in the day you just had. The next thing you know, you're being forcefully taken out by a strong force.

Shiva tries to go easy on you, but you're just so damn cute, it kills him! He's super energetic and doting.

"Oh Y/n, you're so adorable. Ack, hey! Fightin now huh? I thought you saw my bout. What are you being stupid for?"

Marries you immediately. Only gives you the most enchanting and personal experience a soul could ask for.

The honeymoon is one like you've never experienced. Shiva has married four times. He knows how these things work. (Take that as you will, I don't write nsfw lmfaooo)

Shiva is painfully aware of how weak humans are compared to the average god, so he tries to not smother you too much. (AKA not smooching you once or twice every minute or so)

He really finds humans interesting, so he pokes and prods about in your personal space all the time. Privacy? Bodily autonomy? What's that?

Let's you roam free in his quarters but only let's you speak to his family and trusted ones. Rudra also finds this interesting. Shiva has fallen for a human soul? Now that's crazy talk!

Shiva would never want you to feel inferior to his wives just because they're powerful gods and you're not. You're his human. There's no one else who deserves you more than him!

But seriously, he loves learning about the ways of humans. The couple of humans who had attempted the final battle were spectacular and fought pretty damn hard, so he often wonders what others do.

"C'mon I know you're not that tired yet. The humans I've met have taken this kind of thing well before... What? Seriously can't keep up? *Sigh* Fine, get over here."

Things like modern technology isn't uncommon in Valhalla, so he'd most definitely want to know about your online life too.

Shiva is more of an active guy, so he isn't on his phone a lot. That doesn't mean he isn't inexperienced though.

He is also big on affectionate touch. Everywhere you go, he's holding some part of you. One arm around your waist and another on the top of your head.

Will MANHANDLE YOU like no tomorrow. Wherever he turns, you turn. Even when you're in the middle of reading something, or working on an arts and crafts project, he does not care. When he needs you, he will have you.

You're in front of something he needs to get to? Legit picks you up and places you aside. One the most embarrassing things to ever happen with him. You especially hate it when it's in front of his wives. They playfully laugh, giggle, and tease you for being so, as they say, cute.

They adore you. You're like another sibling to them. They also dote on you and have you help around a lot as it substitutes as hang outs.

They fight over you. A lot.

Durga is the one who takes you out a lot for physical activities. She is very ambitious and encouraging.

"Yeah, You finally got it Y/n! Whoo, you're badass compared to me."

Butters you up way too much despite the bold faced truth.

Unfortunately is the one who enforces Shiva's rules for you the hardest.

Kali is so charismatic and can be the most fun if you're rebellious. Despite her soft appearance, she is CHAOTIC. Although she stays loyal to Shiva, she doesn't mind breaking a few small rules here and there to have some fun.

She's the one who gets you in the most danger and trouble.

Shiva is VERY strict with you despite all of the freedoms he's allowed you. You're human, fragile mentally and physically. So when you are caught with Kali, he can't help but lecture the both of you.

Kali has been with him for a long time, so she takes the blame for herself. She knows she can persuade him if she tries hard enough.

Partavi is so kind and gentle. You two usually spend time inside and just casually hanging out. Cooking, learning about Hinduism, house keeping, keeping your mental and spiritual state in check, and all sorts of calming things.

Kali and Durga literally ought to tear each other apart when fighting for You attention. Partavi has to keep them in check so Shiva doesn't have to step in himself.

Complying with this new afterlife will grant you a very happy eternity and a severe case of Stockholm Syndrome.

You're surrounded by riches and loving powerful gods who want nothing more than to see you joyful. Who wouldn't want that?

Well, not you... You've lived your life! Yeah it may have been cut off short by quite a bit, but all you want to do is to finally be at peace. That shit was way more than enough. You really did not need any more issues.

Being strangely unaffected by the wipe out of Earth's humanity was just the height of it, but being kidnapped by one of the succeeding gods of the final battle was plain horrifying.

Refusing Shiva's wives affections isn't too bad in itself, but moving away from him is unacceptable.

Keeping to yourself in their shared room, not speaking to any one of them, refusing to accept their gifts and invitations, not looking after your health, pushing Shiva away when he tries to get close, and worst of all, saying you wish to not be with him.

Shiva is an emotionally driven guy, so you disobeying only displeased him further. Punishment is in order no?

Shiva won't beat you into submission, but he will intimidate and deprive you. Since you want to be so ungrateful, then maybe you should be on your own for a while huh?

You're literally thrown into a cold room with no windows and are left there for who knows how long. No one to check on you. Nothing to hinder your obvious chosen solitude. No food. No water. No one to pity you. Just the thought of sun rising and setting outside of your silent enclosure.

You hate it. You thought being alone was in every way better than being with them, but you realize that you don't like being lonely.

You despise the churning acidic bubbling in your stomach. The way your chapped lips stick together. No matter the silks and fabrics in the room, you never feel quite warm enough yet.

By the time they finally open the door, letting light pour into your room once more, you're running into whoever's arms is there.

You want- no, you need to feel something. To know that you're free of that confinement. To be free of your one and only being. Shiva's familiar warm blood pulsing through his body confirmed it.

Shiva of course, is pleased by this development. Humans will fight like hell, but will succumb one way or another.

"You miss me that much Y/n? Finally learned your lesson? Hehaha, I knew you could do it."

But if you had tried to escape? Oh hoho you are in for one big ride.

Shiva is infuriated. His rage is unlike any other. When he is hit with a hard pang of anger, all sense disappear and the only thing he can think about is how terrible the heat of emotions feel.

He is only ever at your side, so you being able to slip away can be so very rare. You won't be roaming outside his territory for very long as it would only last a couple of moments.

Was the sunlight hitting your form willing for once worth it? Was the rushing adrenaline of possibly achieving personal autonomy again worth it? The gleeful smile and feeling of heavy panting as you ran out gave you a sick, twisted feeling pleasure.

As Shiva topples you to the ground, his weight and arms hit you like a truck. If you were still alive, you'd say your soul was knocked out of you.

Too infuriated to even speak of his disappointments, he dislocates your shoulder. Your scream of agony echos throughout the secluded area, but it doesn't reach anyone.

You're taken back in for a full nights punishment. What made you think you'd be able to outrun Shiva? A final battle champion. The god of destruction. One who destroys, creates and rebuilds the world anew again.

The most damage you'll receive is some fractured bones, but nothing too bad. None of your skeletal structure is sticking out, but you can sure as hell feel the shattering.

You are of course treated. Shiva feels little sympathy for your injuries, but he does pity that sad pout you adorn in your medical clothing.

"Sorry Y/n. I was only trying to protect you, but it seemed like you couldn't understand that. I still love you so very much, so please forgive me."

This guy is the ultimate love bomber smh

Paravati, Kali and Durga don't like when you get so harshly punished like that, but they know it's what must be done.

If you ever actually get out for longer than expected, (which is mighty fucking impressive) those three will be on the hunt for you with no stop until you are found again.

And even if you had somehow gotten away, where would you go in Valhalla? God, you can't go to Zeus for help. He would laugh in your face and hand you off to Shiva like every other "lost belonging". Any other god would do the same.

Maybe Buddha could help? Then again, just because he fought for humanity doesn't mean he's your friend. Especially because it would be him against another god.

You can't return to your old home. It's where they had taken you from in the first place.

Other godly territory can be scary. Many myths and legends you might not know of, lowly salty gods may attack you, the social separation between humans and gods, and not to mention the people who inhabit the land there themselves.

Shiva would probably put a missing souls report out there for bounty if he had gotten desperate anyway.

So perhaps it's best to just, leave things as they are. Just to avoid trouble you know? Yeah, trouble.

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jostepherjoestar · 3 years

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An Educational Favour: V

NOTsfw // FEM! reader & pronouns

warnings/notes: 18+ content, minors dni, it’s Melone x reader x Risotto, interc0urse, v0yeurism?, sex toys, footjob, lingerie, double stuffed creampuff (lord i can’t type the real thing for some reason), sensual vibes, risotto yearns, reader yearns, melone gets treated, dynamic changes! and honestly nothing that extreme for dear melon man

part 1- 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7

PART V: 💜Melone💜

“What about this one?” Like a quality inspector the lithe form a little ways further examined the soft lace between his slender fingers. Pads carefully assessing any sign of future discomfort before holding it up, presenting it to you and all the other nosy patrons that had quietly started whispering to each other. As you noticed the audience that had gathered, their curious side glances still not sure who exactly that strange purple haired man was shopping for, you felt a blush caress your cheeks. “I don’t really like that colour Melone. A bit too cold maybe.” You hurried to his side while offering your hushed answer, letting go of the cute set you had been admiring an isle away. The stares and muttering were starting to annoy you, Melone seeming completely unaware of them as his brows knitted together in thought, placing the thong back on the steel rack. Either he hadn’t a clue to his surroundings or he simply didn’t care. The thought of strangers always treating him this way saddened you, shortly after followed by anger. Yes, he was a special guy with even more unusual tastes but he was just as deserving of respect as any other, those nosy shoppers were here for the exact same reason as the both of you. “What about this…for you?”

That kind smile offering a comfort, an apology, for the onlookers and their rudeness. The man wasn’t oblivious, he knew- but accepted your generous smile anyways. He’d always liked the contrast you offered, a soul so gentle, so curious, a little puppy who packed quite the large bite, considering how successful you proved to be at your shared occupation. He took the strappy teddy bodysuit adorned with lace decorations from your gentle hold, giving it his usual assessment before a mischievous smile curled his lips. “Di molto! How’d you know I liked purple?” He nudged his elbow playfully into your side while picking out his size and laying it in the shared basket.

It had been his idea to go shopping together to get some nice pieces you’d all enjoy, Risotto will just have to wait and see what the two of you had picked out. “Come on Melone! We have to get to the salon on time!” Pulling the distracted shopper along, hooked in his elbow while he held onto the paper shopping bags filled with light pink fabric hiding the goodies from the public. Peeling him away from his laser focus on another frilly robe. So delicate; the thought of seeing Melone’s trained but slender figure in that nicely fitting bodice already letting loose a few excited tingles near your thighs as you hurried to your next stop.

For once Risotto didn’t even need to explain your next guest’s preferences. On a particularly quiet evening your tentative colleague slid into your room, knocking while he’d opened the door, defeating its very purpose. “So about our little adventure! Let’s chat.” His excitement so obvious as he made himself comfortable at the foot of your bed, crossing his legs and playing with the comforter that you’d been resting under, already half asleep when he entered. And before you knew, it had been an hour already, wide awake as he walked you through his array of likes. Some seemed more appealing than others but the man was fair and didn’t mean to make you do anything you weren’t fully comfortable with. Deciding that if you were to explore his fascination with feet and hands, it would only do you both good to go and get mani-pedis together. The rest of his plans would come to fruition on the day itself.

All shiny and clean, your hands having never felt softer or smelling this lovely, like you’d been marinating in a vat of vanilla syrup for a couple of days. It had been such a nice outing, quite the change of pace from the otherwise mundane free time you’d have.

“One more thing, sweetheart.” His closeness making every hair on your body raise up to the heavens, his lips kissing the shell of your ear as he handed over a small bag alongside the others. Clinging to every syllable of that smooth voice, anticipating the next while heat built in your core. “We’ll have some fun with these before our lovely meeting tomorrow. We’ll switch remotes.” You didn’t even need to know the content of the little baggy, that curious mind of yours having seen enough lewd toys to know the one’s he’d gotten to play with. You hadn’t the power to reply, the way he exuded an aura of arousal letting only a breathy hum escape you. Oh this was going to be quite the educational endeavour.

—

The thick golden liquid dripped from its dipper, landing in satisfying folds as the high pitched shrieks from the steaming kettle settled down when you turned off the heat. A nice hot cup of tea with a tad too much honey always hit the spot on a chilly day like this, bundled up in a cozy cardigan and feeling a little too aware of the foreign object currently residing inside you. It hadn’t started its buzzing, the anticipation of any movement had already liquified your determination to keep up appearances while moving about the kitchen.

Risotto had been working hard all week, drowning in stacks of documents, phone calls or secret emails that kept him away from the very work his superiors kept dropping on him. That being the exact reason you’d also poured him a cup of the comforting drink, scuttling over to his office to hand it off. But as you stood there, two cups in hand, not a free one to open the door with, you called for you capo. Your soft voice like a siren call to the overworked man, and unbeknownst to you just yet, a very audible confirmation to Melone. A low buzzing startled you. So it began. A sly smirk quirking up the corner of your lips. “You won’t get me that easily, asshole.” You whispered to yourself, treating the tall looming figure that had come to open the door. “Here. Take a break for a minute.” Albeit reluctant, Risotto accepted the hot mug, his long strides only needing two or three steps to place him back behind his desk again. You took up the invitation that he hadn’t even extended, sitting yourself down on the chair reserved for his guests. Well now you were one. But the low buzzing tickling your insides, offering little to no stimulation still made you straighten your back. The sensation only letting you rest at the very edge of the seat.

Knowing how much your superior appreciated silence, you opted not to engage in any useless smalltalk. Leaning back in his chair, letting his tremendous legs stretch, he breathed out a short groan. You offered a small smile as comfort, reminding yourself that the purple haired gentleman had oh so lovingly handed you a small remote as well. The silicone nub of buttons thudded gently as you placed it on the large oaken desk, making Risotto avert his gaze, landing it on the bright pink object. He quirked an eyebrow while intently staring back at you, searching for an answer. “Do you mind if I help you out a bit, Ris? Just to get a load off.” A devious little grin at the play of words, pressing a single button to activate the small device that resided in your colleague a few rooms away. “Sure. Start with that pile over there, consigliere Topollino wants those sorted.” You still weren’t sure if Risotto had caught on to what was happening, unsure of his knowledge in assorted sex toys. Fortunately for you, your commencing of mutual buzzing only egged on the other side, sending an intenser vibration through you as it gained. power. A small gasp left your lips, quickly clearing your throat and sipping from the warm drink in front of you to mask the new sensation.

The tickling had little effect before but now the pace had quickened. You wondered if you capo even heard the soft hum of the toy, getting increasingly wetter, clenching around the form inside you. As best as you could, you started sorting the stack, gripping some documents a little too harshly as you felt your building pleasure earn footing. To retort the growing feeling, you pressed your remote twice, upping the speed and intensity, a wicked sense of satisfaction overtaking you at the thought of Melone wriggling in his seat. And as if he’d been planning it, the purple haired man struck again. “Shit.” That small huff out offering no sense of release as the hum continued.

You were getting closer and closer, not even concentrated on the papers anymore as you gripped the armrests of the chair instead. Risotto peeled his dark eyes away from his screen, ceasing his tapping on the loud keyboard. “Are you feeling alright? You look a bit red.” Behind his minimal concern was a twinge of amusement, his trained ears had already picked up on the buzzing and that flashy coloured remote only solidified the answer to his own questions. You and Melone were in the middle of a heated teasing battle. The sight of your flushed cheeks, that earnest glimmer in your eyes he’s been so taken with, ever familiar. You were pretty bad at hiding it too, those short pants and wriggling in your seat, nails drug into the chair. Were you even trying to be discreet? As the thoughts ran through his head, not even caring that your only answer was a quick hum, he felt his cock harden slowly, enjoying the invisible battle.

You couldn’t handle it any longer, breaths getting heavier by the second as you fumbled with the remote, pressing down again to increase power. If he was making you come undone in front of your capo, for the fifth time, you’d gladly return the favour. He was alone in his room but you were sure the thought alone had made him cream his pants. “Try and keep those documents in order. You’ll have to start all over again otherwise.” A hint of a smug grin dented his cheek as he kept his eyes on you, sipping his tea with great ease, enjoying the view of his struggling little minx. “F-fuck! I’ll try.” You stuttered as the tension kept building, inching closer to your peak by the second. Just as you gave the sorting another go, you toppled over the edge, mewling as the stimulation didn’t relent, crinkling the papers in your fist as you pinched your eyes shut. Risotto’s smirk only grew wider, taking in how you squirmed through your orgasm wondering if you’d pushed Melone far enough as well.

Try as you did, nothing changed, the humming still going strong inside as your walls clenched around the toy. “He’s not stopping.” You grunted, growing agitated at the overstimulation, standing up from your seat with the strength of a newborn calf. That deep breath out offering a semblance of confidence as you moved to the door, that handle being close to ripped out of its socket as you held on for dear life, another wave of pleasure making itself known. The burn of overstimulation not as strong as your resolve to choke out the man who kept up his teasing. You wondered if he was writhing just as much as you as you made you way into the hall. Your swear you heard a small chuckle come from your capo’s office.

Just as you reached Melone’s door, Ghiaccio stepped into the hall, offering a quick nod as his cheeks flushed red like yours. Something that kept happening whenever you met him alone since your meeting with him. Concern graced his usually grumpy features as he saw you pant and cling to Melone’s door. “What’s happening? Are you hurt?” The softness of his voice coaxing your second orgasm as he tightly gripped your shoulders between his hands. Those familiar moans ringing through him while you lost balance at the sensation. “I’m sorry Ghia. Shit, I have to go!” You trembled, practically falling into Melone’s room, quickly shutting the door behind you. The curly haired man was left to himself, a bit perplexed before huffing loudly when he realised what had been going on, those beautiful noises you made were all too familiar. As quickly as you left him, his hardness grew, hastily bringing the man back into his room, the thing he set out to do already forgotten while he furiously started his own stimulation.

“Turn it off Melone!” You huffed, scrambling to his bed where he lay. Splayed out like a Greek marble statute, like Dionysus indulging in earthly pleasures, moving his hand over his shaft with a wide grin, not a semblance of strain gracing his façade. A Cheshire Cat grin mocking you for crumbling so easily. “Had enough, darling?” Emphasising his pet name for you, groaning theatrically while his eyes pierced yours. He seemed so unfazed, basking in the stimulation but so trained to not let on. With a swift click he stopped your toy, offering you relief from the buzzing, your body remembering the sensation, leaning against his desk chair and keeping your eyes on his length. It was slender and long, just like him. Not an imperfection in sight as it faintly leaned left.

His strokes got more powerful, moaning only growing louder, so melodic as you recovered, sweetly egging him on with that sharp stare. Melone’s eyes fluttered as he bucked into his fist, white spurts of his come painting his toned abs. As he basked in his orgasm, you regained your senses, remembering you hadn’t brought the remote with you . “Shit let me get the remote!” You scrambled back to your feet, legs still feeling like jelly as you returned to Risotto’s office where he sat, that same smug grin never having left his lips as he continued his work, length straining at his trousers.

As quick as you could, you shut off the toy. That little sigh leaving Melone not sounding like relief but slight annoyance that you’d stopped. “I would have kept going, but alas. We’ll continue this later.” That cheeky wink making you smile, already curious to that slender member inside of you, not before putting that pedicure to good use though.

—

Melone hummed softly, admiring his own form in the floor length mirror that resides near your closet. His slender digits moving over the softness of the lace decorations, the comfort of the fabric so delicate against his supple skin. Behind him, resting on the edge of the bed was you, carefully rolling up stockings to your thighs, fastening them with the garter clips. Besides the thin see-through nylon and the detailed fabric resting on your hips supporting the hosiery, your body remained nude. The sensation of having lazily pulled up the fabric, caressing your legs in the meantime, had already earned a few excited flutters from your core.

As you fastened the robe you’d picked out yesterday, Melone’s favourite choice so far, you stood up to nudge the lithe man out of his personal haze. “Ready?” You hummed as you snaked an arm around his waist, admiring his reflection with a soft stare. He felt so appreciated in that moment, admired, desired even. A feeling he rarely gets to experience as his advances are normally cut short. “Mhm, ready.” His tone so gentle, offering a quick smile before intertwining his lanky fingers with your, leading the way to his own room where Risotto awaited his colleagues.

The confidence you’d built up never faltering as your capo’s intense gaze raked over every inch of your thinly covered figure. Like he was seeing it for the first time again, enjoying every little detail of the flouncy robe loosely cradling your breasts. How could someone look so lovely, so endearingly gorgeous? And why did all strength leave him because of it? He felt helpless against your eager charm, having to aptly remind himself of the position he was in. Tutor, albeit with the occasional hands on approach.

“D’you like it?” Your questioned aired while Melone went to lay himself down on his bed like he had earlier this afternoon, that toned form so intoxicating, moving with care. He was making sure to flaunt his every muscle and curve before resting on his side, leaning his grinning face on his palm. “Yes.” The short answer enough of a confirmation from Risotto, neither of you had disappointed him with the choice of garments. Somehow hanging around that purple haired fellow made you even more alluring, the air feeling thick with anticipation as you strode over to the bed. Both stares trained on you when you tossed the robe, revealing that lovely body of yours to the cool air and the two men. Even though both of them had already seen you naked, they still gawked, a hushed “di molto!” falling from Melone’s wetted lips, his tongue moving over them.

“Today-“ you paused, sighing dramatically while taking place at the end of Melone’s wide bed, opening your legs as you leaned back on your elbows, pussy displayed to the man that moved his form so he had the best view of your already glistening folds. “We’re going to be indulging. A lot. Right Melone?” You grinned, every word emphasised, that purr stolen from Melone’s tactics as you turned your head back to your capo. His expression not faltering but the straining of his length already gaining against his trousers. Melone hummed in response, completely taken in by the alluring vision before him, many thoughts already racing through his lewd mind. Those childbearing hips, that eager form so inviting and nearly dragging him in as his cock hardened under his pretty bodice. “First, we’re going to put that pedicure to good use, aren’t we? Risotto, would you be so kind as to throw me that bottle of lotion? We’re a bit preoccupied at the moment.” As much as your tone implied condescension, your capo complied, throwing the little bottle to your side, moving a nylon covered foot gently over Melone’s hardening length. A satisfied mewl already escaping him while you leisurely moved the pad of your foot against it.

It was all quite new for you but after doing much scientific research on the lithe man’s handy laptop you felt confident to emulate the theoretical knowledge you’d picked up. The unusual but sensual tone you’d been using of your own inclination, knowing just how much it excited you when Melone purred into your ear before.

Before teasing him any longer with the soft drags of your toes over his shaft you sat up and moved between his legs while his hungry gaze followed your every move. The way your breasts just so plumply invited him, making him yearn to suck them raw as you writhed under him. His little fantasy was cut short, your soft hands covered in the cold lotion inching the fabric covering his aching cock to the side and revealing his slender length. It was just as beautiful up close.

Your lathered fingers moved with care, pumping only its head as he bucked his hips ever so slightly, earning him a soft tap to his hip from your other hand, ordering him to behave. That confidence never for a second wavered as you worked the sensitive tip, cooing at the recipient. The condescending act so new but if felt so fitting already. “Do you want me to rub my pretty feet on your cock, huh? Work them all over as you whine?” You teased, never averting your eyes from his. That devilish grin enjoying every minute of your little act, waiting to make you beg for more later on. “Oh you little flirt. Of course I’d like that.” He graciously accepted the offer, not bothered by your tone in the slightest, it only egged him on. His patience was a trained one, a self-taught skill.

You resumed you previous position again, placing a single foot behind his shaft to support it and moving the other with its pad flat against the length, pumping him gently. It felt a bit clumsier than your hands but those strong calves of yours could handle the pressure of the continued motions.

Quickening your pace every time Melone moaned in pleasure, making sure to move over that sensitive head with your toes every once in awhile. As the man got closer and closer, not a single bead of sweat presented itself. But the twitching of his cock between your feet betrayed his nearing peak. You heard Risotto adjust in his seat. A fast glance to the side confirmed your suspicion, the man was in need of friction, anything to stimulate that aching cock. “Tut tut. Not yet Risotto. You’ll get your chance.” You mocked as he stopped his hands, resting them back on his thighs as his member stood proud, no longer restrained. His eyes squinted in frustration.

The sight only made you giggle as you focussed on making Melone come. Picking up the pace yet again, movements intensifying as his moans and pants filled the air. “Come for me Melone!” You ordered, grinning so devilishly it could sway Beelzebub himself. Without much more stimulation his hips bucked up, the same fluttering eyes as before fighting to keep open as his stare remained. The spurts of come covered his delicate bodice, staining the fabric as he shuddered, the orgasm having brought on more pleasure than expected. “Di molto amore!” He groaned as you removed your feet, the nylons having been soiled as well.

“Good boy!” You commended softly. Those words pleased a deeper sense in him, not knowing just what to think of all this but oh so happy to participate. Things like this rarely happened to him, never really. His lack of dirty talk chalked up to a deeper wonderment, a disbelief that someone hadn’t found his charms off-putting but endearing instead.

Senses already aptly regained, shoving away any insecure thoughts Melone snapped into action, moving over your resting figure in a brisk motion, pinning you under him as his lips clashed with yours. It felt so needy, letting on more than he’d like to admit to wanting you. Desperate but still deliberate he moved, a skilful tongue toying with yours, moaning into you so melodically. His vocalness was so endearing, the whole night already having you soaked. His curious digits moved over your figure, grazing the skin of your waist, lightly hovering over your nipples and playing with your breasts. “Fuck. Let me fill you up already.” The impatience in his voice surprising since he’d always seemed so patient until now. His kiss accompanying his faltering composure.

“Now it’s time for you Risotto. Come over here and lay down for us.” Melone purred, making room for the large figure that strode over to do as he was told. While he positioned himself in the middle, Melone and you undressed, letting the soiled lingerie drop to the floor and admiring each other for a moment, so intoxicated with each others allure. Those carved lines on the lithe mans body like a guide, showing off all its best assets. “You won’t be needing those.” He gestured towards Risotto’s figure, ushering your capo to undress as well.

God he looked so stunning, just like always. His rippling muscles moving so beautifully as he slid off his trousers and shirt. Like two hungry hyenas assessing their next meal you stared at the man splayed out in front of you, the two of you flanking his thighs on each side. Both resting a gentle hand on his thick quads.

To Risotto’s surprise you took place over his hips, straddling him under your form. Your sensitive folds enjoying his aching shaft positioned perfectly between them, wetness already slicking it thoroughly. Your capo’s dark eyes widened and his brain short circuited at the unexpected move, confused as to what was happening. As much as he was perplexed- finally feeling your touch on him- that long awaited moment nearly made him come right then and there. But he remained strong and kept his composure. To make things even harder on him you broke the distance, you breasts now resting on his midriff and that cute face near his own chiseled mounds. It took all the strength he possessed, that had already been worn thin, not to move under you. Just the slightest adjustment and he could so easily enter your wanton core. Eyes so full of mischief stared up at his dark ones that tried their best to remain focussed on you. You weren’t making it easy for him.

“Oh don’t worry capo, I’ll be doing the work today. You just rest up.” You didn’t even need to face the man behind to know he shot Risotto a cheeky wink. Writhing your figure over him, searching for that stimulation your clit desperately needed, Melone grabbed your hips to still them, having relented all power to him now. “Shhh bella, we’ll get to moving in a second.” The mattress dented further as his body moved closer, Risotto’s legs spread wide to accommodate the other man.

Melone could barely contain himself, gently lining himself up behind you while an inquisitive finger entered your dripping core. It drove him wild to now he’d already made you so excited, knowing that the entire combination of your stoic capo that showed his iron restraint and his nimble form so hungry for yours crumbled you to an eager mess. Barely containing his need to fill you to the brim with seed while soft mewls escaped your lips. He returned his finger, licking it clean with fervour. “Di molto! You’re so delicious bella!” That buttery smooth voice leading his wanton cock to your hole, carefully slipping it in without any restraint.

That groan so loud, hurrying himself inside fully, those warm walls accepting him with want. And as he commenced his pace, you slid over Risotto’s straining member with ease. Not only were you getting the stimulation you needed, so was the man under you, eyes still trained on yours while his senses needed to get used to your wonderfully soft skin grinding on his.

It was almost methodical, the way Melone moved his hips, a greatly experimented tactic finally being put to use. And oh was it working, it seemed like his cock reached all the right places, every thrust- as gentle as they were, hit the most wonderful spots that made your head swim. Moaning and groaning with abandon Melone and you fully indulging and letting go of any inhibitions. But the man beneath remained quiet, too enamoured with his cock finally so close to your sopping cunt.

His brows had started furrowing, maybe that chest moved a bit heavier than before, betraying just how badly he needed to let go. “Come on Risotto, let go for me. Please?” Soft pants against his chest, sucking little marks on his skin to coax him out from under that shell. When your hands found themselves wondering across his jawline, caressing them with such admiration he felt his chest tighten. Just how badly had you wrapped him around your finger?

The sensual thrusting continued, adept fingers kneading at your plush hips while feeling the rush of your orgasm finally arrive, letting it ripple through you with abandon. Gripping Risotto’s throat with your fingers, digging into the skin as you clenched around Melone’s cock, making him hiss and stutter while trying to hold himself back for just a bit longer. Along with your whimpers and Melone’s moans, your other colleague finally took up your lesson, groaning softly, so sweetly it almost turned into a whining moan. “Thank you Ris.” You huffed your praise, offering more kisses and suckles at his chiseled chest, fingers loosening around his thick neck all the while your orgasm subsided.

Melone’s hips bucked, that familiar flutter arriving as well, coming undone inside your sensitive core with those same short spurts as before, moaning all the while. It felt so warm within your walls, the coldness so contrasting when he pulled out. That deeper desire to have filled you with his come finally satiated after so long.

“Lets treat our patient capo, eh darling. He’s been so good for us.” He grinned deviously as he helped you off of Risotto who ached for his own orgasm. “Come inside of her.” He ordered, voice sterner than you had ever heard it. As you leaned back into the lithe man’s lap, letting him hold you tenderly while playing with your breasts, Risotto regained his senses just enough to move over you. His figure so huge, looming over you and pumping his shaft while his other arm held him up. That steel gaze having softened, letting go as you asked, revealing a needy tenderness that made your heart swell.

“Fuck!” His deep voice gritted, his blushing tip leaning against your entrance while he unloaded inside. He was sure that the moment he’d let himself slip in, his resolve would falter. That last bit of strength holding him back, reminding that there would only be one more after this. One more until you’d be his alone.

“Thank you boys.” You whispered, rubbing their arms tentatively, assuring them it’s was ok to rest now. Although the figure you’d been leaning against didn’t even seem that worn. Still feeling a bit peckish, Melone gently laid you down, moving easily between your legs after Risotto moved away.

“One last thing.” That smooth voice sounding so endearing. Before you could even register that dark haze behind his eyes, he dipped down and eagerly started suckling every last bit of their combined come out from your core. The sensation so absolutely lewd it made you quiver while he continued over your sensitive bud. Tongue moving like his cock had, with utmost precision, like he knew every little spot that made you melt into him. Like a man starved, finally let loose on a depraved buffet.

Risotto took Melone’s previous spot, letting you rest your back on his thighs, caressing your hair almost lovingly while the other urged another orgasm out of you. For the first time, it almost felt romantic. Three lovers so drunk on each others essence. Trembling as the waves calmed and the moaning stopped.

As Melone wiped his mouth with his fingers, licking up any juices he’d find, he plopped next to you with a deep sigh, this time one of relief and satisfaction. Tonight felt so different, the intimacy thicker and more genuine than before, teaching you just how important the entire atmosphere can be. It hadn’t slipped your mind how comfortable Risotto seemed with Melone there, letting him lightly touch his thighs, admiring his lithe figure in the outfit.

Basking in the pleasant aura seemed right, regaining thoughts and senses, letting the comfortable silence speak for itself; this would not be a one time thing.

#shoots love and kindness gun at melone #also dies because ris i just too cute #jjba x reader #la squadra x reader #melone x reader #risotto x reader #jjba smut #la squadra #jjba fic #jjba imagines #jojo x reader #notsfw #minors dni #jojo's bizarre adventure #risotto nero #melone

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slightlyrebelliouswriter23 · 4 years

Text

Crashing | Jurdan Fake Hating One Shot

Written for: @poeticbrownmermaid for my 1k celebration!

Massive thank you to: @clockworkgraystairs and @sweetlyvillainous for beta reading this and holding my hand before I posted 🥺❤️

Summary: You’ve heard of fake dating. Get ready for fake hating. It’s all very romantic.

Rating: M/E for explicit language and a short, soft focus smut scene (a steam scene, if you will). The sexy parts start and stop after the ☽☽ in case you want to skip.

Masterlist

“You taste—” I’m cut off by my own giggle, which rises to my lips like my mouth is a glass and my laugh is the Champagne they’re serving at this dumb party. “You taste like bubblegum.”

Cardan looks at me funny, then snorts. “What?”

His eyes are beguiling when they’re amused. Even more beguiling when they’re amused and looking at me. They are dark intoxication. They compete against the night sky for vastness. I could swallow them whole.

We’re on the terrace under the stars outside his fancy-pants mansion. I’m sitting on the stone railing, my knees bracketing his lithe frame. His hands and lips are breathless effervescence on me.

I’m in a daring dress of red satin that I would’ve never chosen for myself had Oriana not insisted on finding us girls a tailor. It’s an elegant, backless number with an audacious slit up the side. The whole time before this in the ballroom, I could sense Cardan’s eyes eating it up while he pretended to hate me.

In this dress, I am a femme fatale spy from a film, meeting her tryst in the secret of shadows. Which is honestly not too far off from the reality of the situation, though I am no spy.

Cardan ghosts one hand up the exposed skin of my thigh. The night air is bracing as his touch.

“Jude,” he murmurs, “Are you drunk?”

He’s in a rakish black velvet suit with two blood-red rubies dangling from the pointed tips of his collar. It is decadence and sin given form. The first hour of this hell party was just that: Hell. By the time Cardan pressed a napkin into my palm with the words “Terrace. 10 min.” scrawled on it in smeared ink, I was beginning to glare at him in earnest—if only for the way he must’ve known he was teasing me.

Now, we’re making out behind two conveniently tall potted plants.

It’s all very romantic.

“I had one glass of wine, Cardan,” I say. I slide my hands from his hair and scrape my nails lightly down the column of his neck. It is heady, watching his eyes shutter. My hands slide down his chest and take up his lapels. I give them a firm tug. “I’m fine.”

“Well, I,” he says, lips hovering over my own, “Don’t believe you.” His breath fans across my face. It really does smell like bubblegum. And not the minty kind, either. I’m talking bright pink and bubblicious.

I lean back a little and stick my bottom lip out in a mock-pout. “Why not?”

“For starters,” he says, “You’re a lightweight.” He trails that damned hand down my exposed thigh again.

I shiver. “So? I also ate like twenty of those canopy things.”

“Canapés?” Cardan smirks.

“Yeah, whatever, Your Highness.”

He flashes me a grin and I’m briefly stricken into silence. “Then, what have you to say to your unprecedented giddiness this evening, Your Majesty?”

“Ew, don’t call me that.” I grimace. “I just called you ‘Your Highness’.”

“What? Scared of the implication?”

“Uh, yeah.” My brows shoot up on my forehead. “Mainly because it implies that I’m your mother.”

Cardan’s face goes slack. “Shit, really?”

I nod and bite back my grin.

“I thought they were interchangeable.”

“About as interchangeable as a fork and a spoon.”

He sputters a laugh. “Shows what I know about royalty.”

“You realise how ironic that is, don’t you?” I say, nodding pointedly in the direction of the party.

It goes on without us, spilling its mirth in great golden shafts out onto the terrace. It doesn’t touch us, though. The air is cool, clear of the preening bullshit that so regularly lathers these kinds of events. And though he makes me dizzy, Cardan is the only real thing here.

I think I like parties better this way. From the shadows. In there, we’d have to talk to people, explain ourselves. We’re supposed to hate each other. We were always supposed to hate each other.

A smile plays at the corners of Cardan’s lips as if he’s gleaned these thoughts of mine. “You haven’t answered my question.”

I narrow my eyes. “You think I’m too giddy to not be drunk.”

“Mhmm.” He nudges his nose against mine. “I’ve never heard you giggle before.” A slender finger tracks up my spine and it takes a considerable amount of concentration not to squeeze my thighs together. Goosebumps and a flush spring to my skin, anyway. “It’s delightful,” he tells me.

“Well, maybe you should work on your sense of humour.” My voice comes out shakier than I want it to.

“Maybe,” Cardan says, grabbing the back of my knee and hitching it up. “But that sounds like effort.”

I want to roll my eyes. This is exactly the reason we used to hate each other. His laziness, his arrogance, and entitlement made me want to punch him clean across his pretty cheekbones. I know my stubbornness and sharp tongue made him hate me right back.

Yet, when our worlds crumbled around us, we found ourselves crashing into each other. Entwined in a thicket of mutual understanding. Suddenly, there was so very little to hate.

We pretend to in public to keep up appearances. Everyone knows we hated each other. If we started being friendly around everyone else, people would talk. That’s the last thing we want. Even if they’d technically be right.

In private, though, Cardan is probably my most closely held secret.

Don’t get me wrong, he’s still annoying as all hell. Like right now. But I’ve always liked a challenge.

I hook my leg around his back, pulling him in. My fingers card through his hair again. “I can be delightful in other ways,” I say, biting my lip.

His eyes lower to my mouth. “Oh, I’m well aware.” Cardan’s voice comes out a rasp. He cants my chin with the crook of his finger, pulling my lip from between my teeth with the pad of his thumb. He looks at me with undiluted lust. The weight of his gaze is like a dizzying nightmare.

Then, he devours me.

Our mouths slide together, slowly at first, but building in fervor. Hot and heavy, like a fever. His grip on my thigh is bruising. His other hand splays across my bare back, crushing me to him, long fingers twining in my hair. Everything turns saturated and slow.

I invade his mouth with my tongue, determined to drink him up. He tastes like bubblegum and our reconciliation. At the same time, I hook my other leg behind him so he’s pressed flush against the apex of my thighs. ☽☽

A muffled groan rolls between his teeth. “Fuck, Jude.” Cardan is growing firm beneath his trousers. The feel of it sends a curl of sweet desire, dark and throbbing, through my core.

“You’re going to have to be quieter than that,” I tease. I’m so featherbrained on the savour of his mouth, his liquid touch. My veins feel full of amber liquor instead of blood. I know I’m not drunk, and yet I feel it.

His fingers drawl back up my leg. “The question is, dear,” he says, “Can you be quiet?” The coolness of his hands sends a shock along the heat of my inner thigh.

I realise where he’s going with this and my breath hitches. My cheeks blaze. “Yes,” I tell him, though I don’t sound as confident as I should for such a high stakes rendezvous.

“Hmm,” Cardan thrums. “We’ll see about that.”

His fingers are deft and twice as sly. He hisses through his teeth when they glide over me, exploring.

As a steady rain, he begins my unravelling. His mouth covers mine, swallowing a soft whimper that escapes my throat. I want to moan his name, to curse aloud, but I can’t if we’re to stay hidden.

The thought is both terrible and exciting at once.

Cardan keeps a torturous pace. I cling to him, panting, clutching at his arms, clawing at his back. His mouth roams my jawline. His teeth tug my ear. My mind is frenetic, frenzied, and at once thick in a viscous haze.

All I can think about is how this party is so stupid and soul-sucking, but Cardan is the farthest thing from stupid and soul-sucking. About how he makes me feel very much alive. About how I like him more than anyone here, probably more than even myself.

His other arm wraps certain and solid around me as he spins my world on its side. I lean my forehead on his shoulder. He kisses my neck. I can’t help the gasps that leave me.

My heart is racing. So quickly does it pump, in time with his ministrations, I think I might turn to white lightning in a bottle before all is said and done.

I know it when I’m drawing towards that precipice. My toes curl and flex. My legs begin to quiver. My knees lock up.

“Cardan,” I gasp. “Please.”

“Can you be quiet for me, Jude?” Cardan murmurs rough against my ear. He sounds a little breathless, too.

I am so muddled, I am so close. I can only manage a soft sob in response. Now he’s doubling his efforts and oh, gods is he clever.

I bite his shoulder to keep from making a sound as I shoot over the edge, a wondrous arc so high I’m sure I scrape the stars of their dust.

My hips writhe against his palm. I pull and rake my fingers through his hair as I spiral through the five stages of sweet delirium.

He holds me through it. Presses his lips to my hair and whispers what I think must be comforting things into my ear. I can’t tell because I’m incapable of comprehending much of anything beyond myself in his arms. He strokes soft circles over my back until it’s done. ☽☽

When everything settles, I’m still clinging to him, my forehead against the sureness of his shoulder. A sheen of sweat dewing my skin.

I’ve always hated this part about intimacy. The aftermath. Everything is too quiet. The excitement is gone. You’re faced with the reality of looking at each other without the rosy filter of lust. Maybe you’ll see each other for who you really are, and that’s a scary thought.

That’s probably how I felt once with Cardan, too. Back when we started…whatever this is. But now, in this moment with him, it feels less vulnerable and more like holding someone’s hand as you stare upon something a little terrifying.

Which is why I’m able to look up at him and ask in every manner of seriousness, “Why do you taste like bubblegum?”

His responding laugh is gentle and he shakes his head. “One-track mind,” he says. I shrug and wait.

“They’re serving bubblegum cocktails at the bar inside.”

My nose crinkles. “You actually drank one of those?”

“Don’t knock it till you try it.”

“No, I think I’ll sleep quite soundly if I never do.”

Cardan gives me an awful kind of grin that makes my toes curl anew. “Didn’t hear you complaining earlier.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. “That’s different.”

“Is it?” he says, then tucks a loose curl behind my ear. “I happen to like bubblegum cocktails.”

I give him a dubious look. I can’t help but feel that maybe we’re not talking about bubblegum cocktails anymore.

For a long moment, we just sit there staring at each other. There’s a bloom of laughter from inside the house. The clink of glasses. His eyes trace the lines of my face. I still feel drunk on him and he’s looking at me too soberly.

So I say, “You have shit taste, then,” and hop off the railing. I side-step him before beginning the task of smoothing down my dress. If I walk back into the party all flushed and disheveled, people will know what I’ve been doing—which is almost as bad as if people knew who I’ve been doing.

“Oh, you can’t say that dear,” Cardan lilts as he leans back against the balcony with all the insouciance of someone who lives in this ridiculous mansion. And rightly so, because he does. “Not when you taste equally delicious.” Then he brings his fingers, the ones that have just been inside me, to his mouth and closes his lips around them, burning gaze locked on mine.

My eyes go wide. My jaw slacks as I watch him. I’m somewhere between affronted by his audacity and completely turned on again. Which is a confusing place to be.

He laughs at my probably very foolish expression and I turn on my heel to head back to the party. I’m not actually offended. I just can’t bear to look at him while he’s tasting me off his fingers without combusting on the spot.

Cardan grabs my wrist. “Wait, wait,” he says, still laughing.

I arc a brow and turn to face him. “I’m waiting.”

“I’m sorry,” he says and sounds earnest enough. “It’s just… you make me giddy, too.”

His words are a punch to the gut. I hadn’t realised it until he said it, but it’s true. It’s not the way he kisses me or the high of a climax, though those are surely nice things, too. It’s the way I feel when we’re together. Just his presence makes my head swim, my stomach turn flips.

He makes me feel a little bit invincible, and entirely beyond reason.

I look at him, the warm glow of the party playing off the sharp angles of his face. He’s still holding my hand, fiddling with the ruby ring I always wear.

On the crest of a breath, Cardan says, “Stay tonight.”

“Why?” I whisper, because we’ve never spent the night. I’m not sure we’d even know how.

“Because I’ll miss you terribly?”

A smile tugs at my lips. “I think you’ll survive.”

“Because you’ll miss me terribly.”

“Oh, I’ll definitely survive,” I say. Even as my heart gives a squeeze. I don’t want to leave.

Not yet, not yet.

“Because you’re too intoxicated to drive home,” he says.

“I took an Uber here, Cardan,” I tell him. “And for the last time, I’m not drunk.”

“I’m not saying you’re drunk, Jude.”

He’s not grinning at me, which I think is a good sign. It means he’s not hinting at something sexual. Then again, that might also be a very bad sign. It means he’s hinting at something deeper. I’m not sure I want to get into that conversation just yet.

“Fine,” I say. I do want to stay. The thought of it sends a little thrill through me. “Hate me for an hour more. We’ll have a big argument about… something. And then I’ll tell Madoc I’m leaving.”

His hands snake around my waist. “What will we argue about tonight?”

I smile at him sweetly. “If your head is half as cunning as your fingers, I’m sure you’ll think of something.”

Cardan hums. “I do love it when we’re at each other’s throats.”

I roll my eyes but I’m betrayed by my laugh for not the first time tonight. Stupid punch-drunk feelings.

☽☽☽☽☽

Enjoyed this? Try: King | Wicked Game | We’re All Mad Here

Masterlist

AN: So this was supposed to be a drabble for my 1k celebration but my hand slipped and whoops! It’s 2.5K words. I really hope you enjoyed this secret tryst one shot. I had so much fun writing it. If you liked this and want to see more from me, comments and/or reblogs are very much appreciated!

I have a tag list so if you’d like to be added to that, let me know in the comments/my messages/inbox and I’d be happy to add you! I also recently jumped on the Twitter/Instagram bandwagon. You can follow me @/rebelwriter23 on Twitter and @/slightlyrebelliouswriter23 on Instagram.

Back to the forest now. -Em 🖤💫

Title Inspo: Crashing- Illenium

Tag List: @velarhysismine @knifewifejude @the-mithridatism-of-jude-duarte @clockworkgraystairs @thesirenwashere @judexcardanxgreenbriar @nite0wl29 @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @whocares-idont @babycardan @sweetlyvillainous @aesthetics-11 @storiesandschemes @jurdanhell @poeticbrownmermaid @thechainofiron @random-llama-socks @villanellevi @lady-thea-of-narnia @b00kworm @flowersinvegas @vanessa172003 @cardanstrickytail @queen-of-glass @doingmyrainbow @words-of-the-wise @scarznstars @charincharge @fizziefaerie @fateandluminary @tessas-herondales @styles-taylor @jyoti96 @losssssstttttt @transbordeamento @katsemkitgostadetog @gloriouspalacebakerylawyer @woodsbeyond1 @hizqueen4life @highqueenjudeduarte @m-like-magic1-blog @dorkzrul @whataboutmyfries @livelovereading123 @queenofgreenbriar @ireallyshouldsleeprn @lifeminuspickles @df3ndyr @christalpaez @aknymph @iammissstark @disco-tits1 @star-flecked-soul

#tfota #jurdan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #tfota fic #jurdan fic #tcp #the folk of the air #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #queen of nothing #twk #qon #tqon #holly black #judecardan #jude x cardan #jude duarte x cardan greenbriar

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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

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congrats you angel, you deserve all the love and praise for your writing bc holy shit you’re so talented!!! for the soulmate au celebration, i’m thinking either javi or jack (your choice bc i can’t choose) with the soulmate goose of enforcement au 💕 ik it’s a bizarre au but the potential for chaos is insane 😂 anyways ily and i hope you’re having a great day honey

...not me, having JUST reread your javi/jack fic, considering both... definitely me

Anyway, thank you, jj, you absolute gem of a human. I swear I had to turn up the fan reading this I got so flustered. I hope you have a great day too! And I hope you enjoy- I had to do a little research, and made it shorter than I wanted to, so hopefully it fills your chaos cup still! (You'll understand, and hopefully forgive my delay when you see what's under the cut :) )

wordcount: 2.5k

warnings: strong language, lil angst with happy endings all around. mild menace meeting menace shenanigans

Okay this is written as pt 1 Jav, pt 1 Jack, pt 2 Jav, pt 2 Jack, bonus pt 3. If you’re only in it for one of the boys, it makes reading a bit weird, but I liked the format for the whole thing. Sorry!

Javier wanted to hit it with a bat. Or a car. Or anything. All that mattered is that maybe then it would leave him the fuck alone. Of all the stupid, infuriating, ridiculous guides the universe could have given him to find his other half, he was sure this was the worst. Rumor was, he couldn't even kill it if he tried.

It's not that he didn't want to find his soulmate, but he... well, he didn't want to find his soulmate.

There were all sorts of excuses to spout - work, obviously a priority, inconvenience, not wanting to give up his way of life. Not to mention following a damn goose was an impossible task, plus the fact that the stupid thing didn't even like him.

It would appear seemingly at random, honking insistently or flapping erratically, and then be gone before anyone else could bat an eye. To say that he had become increasingly irritated would have been a huge understatement.

The truth of it was that Javier was afraid. No one in the world liked to feel like they were being controlled. People liked to know what was going on, and this just didn't fit the bill. He didn't like that he didn't know you, couldn't be chosen, by you.

His life was already complicated enough - messy enough - that a soulmate would only make it worse. He had made it this long, this far without needing one, so he was fine without, thank you very much. Even to himself, his lie sounded okay.

It was hard to face, the idea that there was someone out there, a relationship that he couldn't have control over. And someone who would love him unconditionally? Terrifying.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t allowed to do nothing, because it seemed like every direction he turned there was a goose from hell wreaking havoc on his life.

They had reached an impasse - glowering at each other as it had planted itself in front of his door. Little feet pacing angrily, unreasonably long neck, all of it was just begging to be kicked. Except, for all he was a seasoned DEA agent, Javier was almost afraid the thing could go a few rounds with him. Feet shuffling uneasily, his hand twitched for his gun, even though he knew he couldn’t, wouldn’t shoot.

It was stupid to have a staring contest with a goose. And even more stupid that the goose won .

Javier turned away, spitting spanish curses in a stream that would make his mama smack him. Maybe it wasn't too late to find a hookup he could use to crash, he was thinking, and that thought was apparently the final straw. The goose reappeared in front of him.

Hissing.

More curses, a quick turn on his heel. This time, it didn't move in front of him, it left a sharp peck on his calf, before dodging his kick.

It was herding him, against his will, to you.

When he saw the goose, Jack thought he was delirious. The Statesman lab must've screwed something up because he'd seen that horrible, wonderful, stupid goose once before, in another life.

And he never, ever thought he'd see it again.

He did a lot of thinking, that night and the next day and the next. Strangely, he did a lot of feeling, too, noticing how light his shoulders felt, how kind the ache on his heart had become. He visited their grave, pressed his forehead to the headstone, and breathed some deep breaths.

And when he saw the goose again, he lassoed it.

It wouldn't have died even if it was powered up, but he didn't take the chance, determination and longing filling his being like blood, pumping through his heart to each and every part of him.

Miracle of miracles, it let him, with all the glare a bird could give. Knees only making small pops, Jack settled on his heels, looking at it sternly.

"Can you take me to them?"

The expression on it's tiny, smug face didn't change, but it also didn't disappear to free itself, so he waited.

And he waited. And waited. And eventually, watching it with half an eye, he grabbed a doughnut and offered it to the stupid soulmate goose god.

It considered the doughnut, pecked it as Jack yanked his fingers out of reach, and apparently accepted. After it was finished, it began to tug him along, waddling on its makeshift leash as Jack's heart leapt into his throat. He grabbed the bag of doughnuts and his hat before getting dragged along, to you.

At his very core, Javier was a man driven by his personal sense of justice. Being herded by an immortal goose of mischief was unfair, it made no sense that he had to find you, somehow needed more, and wasn't allowed to choose. It pecked and honked and bullied him all the way to a crowded bar, which was a perfect example.

Just as he was thinking, trying to convince himself he would've come here on his own, it disappeared again and he sighed.

He needed a drink. And, he needed to make some of his own goddamn decisions. Defiance and determination, he told himself. Not stubbornness. There was nothing to prove, it was just defiance and determination, to take his fate into his own hands and make his own choices. And if he was going to do that, he wanted to look for someone who wasn't an informant or a one night stand. His gut was looking for someone he could pull to his side and to show the universe that the goose was right to give up on him.

You were a perfect fit. Slightly disgruntled for whatever reason, even through the crowd he could see the faint, telltale wrinkles of someone just as... determined as he was. Shoulders held the same defiance he was so proud of, and he would be lying if he wasn't physically drawn to you as well. The inconsistent lighting could make anyone look good if you wanted it enough, but you... were something else.

There was a line of pink neon reflection from the top of your ear, across your cheekbone, and just grazing the line of your upper lip as you looked thoughtfully at something he couldn't see. Javier thought he wouldn't mind tracing that path with his fingers, and then maybe his own mouth, and his feet were already carrying him to you to look for an open door. The rest of your form came into view, and Javier noticed the bass of the music was turned up a little bit more than necessary- he could feel it thumping in his bones.

Talking to you went smoother than maybe it ever had before. You seemed resigned, at first, which was a reaction that caught him off guard, and that combined with the weariness of his week, making him unusually candid. In turn, you opened up to him like a flower turning towards the sun, fun and thoughtful and refreshing.

He liked the way you laughed when his lines came out a little awkwardly - open and appreciative, and it made his chest puff out a little. He liked the way you spoke, too. There was kindness and romance in your soul, just whispering at the edges of the words, and while he didn’t pick up on that, per se, they made him feel special, handsome, worthy, but also trusted and comfortable and safe. Neither of you noticed at first, that you had shuffled into a quiet corner of the bar, that his body had moved close, a gentle shield boxing the two of you into your own little world.

When the question came - what brought you here, anyway? - he found himself answering honestly about half being led by his guide, then wanting to make his own path. His confidence faltered at your quiet laugh. His heart ached. A glance at the clock told him it had been two hours since he'd found you, and already he wanted to... choose you. To have you choose him.

He felt stupid that he had confessed so soon, but...

Oh, you were kissing him. There were hands shooting off sparks into his soul against his chest and his jaw and you were kissing him. Javier kissed you back.

When you pulled away, his mouth chased yours, not ready to give up the contact so soon, but you stopped him, laughing again.

"I have a confession," you whispered, and he paused.

“My guide led me here, too. I thought when it gave up on me when I saw you,” your next kiss was more chaste, “I think we got tricked.” Noticing he liked the feel of you in his arms, even if he didn’t remember pulling you there, he tightened his hold.

Javier felt light, understanding your laughter, and blissfully unafraid. “No,” he said, knowing already you’d understand him.

“I chose you.”

Jack was running out of doughnuts. It was easier, safer to have the dumb bird half hog-tied, but he still didn’t feel any closer to you, just halfway across town. He dug in his boots and sunk onto a bench, yanking the goose to a stop, too annoyed to beg for a break.

He wasn’t giving up and running away, absolutely not, he was just... running out of options. Or, doughnuts. And breath. If this pace kept up, he wouldn’t be able to tell you all the things he had planned out in his head.

Eyelids closing against the southern sun, he let out a long, slow sigh. His heart was still racing, and he wondered if he was really as ready as he wanted to be, to meet his next soulmate. A sturdier inhale grounded him. He was ready, he knew he was. Whoever you were, you had to have the patience of a saint - it would be alright, he just needed a breath. The ground under his boots was sturdy, the breeze over his skin cooling, and the goose was mercifully quiet.

“That’s one strange lookin dog you have there, cowboy,” The voice was teasing, but not malicious, and he grinned, eyes still closed.

“She’s a purebred,” he replied, and he heard a huff of laughter like the first few notes of music. Waiting for your footsteps to carry you away, he savored the moment, feeling silly as he hoped his soulmate would like to laugh as much as he did.

There was a weight on the other side of the bench, and he wondered at it, as you said, “Want to talk about it?” His smile was softer, this time, intrigued by the moment, but not wanting to be tempted into flirting, not when his soulmate was on the horizon.

“Nothin to tell,” he replied, feeling suddenly strange. Jack opened his eyes, looking at the rope in his hands, feeling the fibers run through his fingers. “Just a free range chicken... taking a break from tryin to chase down my second soulmate.” He winced, definitely not wanting to look at you, after the second had slipped out.

It wasn’t judging, though, the voice that said, “You seem like you want to talk about it.”

For once in his life, Jack didn’t know what to say, slipping off his hat to run his fingers through his hair before replacing it. He heard your half-laugh again, and it felt refreshing, like sweet tea on a southern summer day.

“Okay,” you said, and he heard amusement this time, like you had something to say, some thought you were chewing on.

Then, there was that terrible honk of the goose, not from his feet, but from where, assumedly, you were. Snapping his gaze to the other side of his bench, he saw a sight for sore eyes, half backlit, glowing like something he never thought he’d see.

There was an indignant goose in a cage at your ankles, now making grumbling bird noises in indignant conversation with the one at the end of his lasso.

“I thought you were never gonna look at me,” Your arm was across the back of the bench as you grinned at dynamite smile at him.

Jack returned it, feeling bashful and eager, dropping the rope to grab your closest hand.

“I promise I aint making that mistake again, sugar.”

bonus ending:

Jack was clinging to your hand, grinning like a fool as you introduced yourselves, when another movement caught his eye. There was a man, walking up behind you, a resigned look on his face. Whiskey’s hackles should have been all the way up, yanking you into his arms at the way this man was approaching you, but instead he was dumbfounded for the second time that day.

He was backlit, too, with shoulders that carried as much weight as the man in his mirror every morning, and he could see the shape of a gun as he knelt next to his soulmate. The stranger’s eyes when they looked at you... were as adoring as he was sure his must have been, a moment before, and he was familiar with you, like you’d known each other before now. Jack wanted to swallow, but his heart felt like it was in his throat, beating like he’d gone a round with a bull at the rodeo.

“This is probably a lot,” Javier said, taking you other hand and quirking an eyebrow. The geese made some loud, obnoxious noises and he looked at them appreciatively. “I wish I had thought of that,” he gestured at the lasso, and you smiled at him.

“This is Javier,” you said, and you let go of them both to stand up and brush yourself off. Warm hands and strong grips were exchanged, and you watched them curiously as they shook, murmuring names and titles again. They were sizing each other up, certainly, but you felt a rush of relief as you saw a familiar spark of attraction in Javi’s eyes.

“You got any more surprises for us, then?” you looked up at the cowboy, confused, only to realize he wasn’t talking to you. The goose in your cage was free halfway down the walk, the one in the lasso hissed. The poor man had been an RV in an earthquake and come out the other side overwhelmed and happy, of all things, but there wasn’t much more he could handle. To your surprise, he grabbed a crumbled paper bag and tossed the contents to the bird, before it gave a final honk, and waddled after it’s friend.

“I guess that’s a no,” you said, suddenly shy at the fullness in your heart.

“That’s alright,” Jack picked up his lasso, before looking at you and Javier, his eyes happy, and glinting with something stronger. “I think this is more than enough.”

And you agreed.

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179

for whiskey:

@0celestialbitch0

#why am I like this #did this get away from me?#yes #absolutely #soulmate requests #soulmate goose of enforcement #Javier Peña x reader #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader #jack x you x javier #i guess thats a thing now #on this blog #don't ask me to write a part two or i swear #i'll probably do it #maybe i don't know people #also im a touch delirious sorry if this is as much of a fever dream for you as it is for me

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munku-collar · 3 years

Note

I would very much appreciate an analysis of the reasoning and song placements for you Macavity playlist whenever you get the opportunity.

- Signed, a big fat music nerd

Putting this guy under a cut cuz it'll be long! I'm just going brief with these but if there's one in particular you want a deeper look at I can def do that. Also I didn't proofread this before posting so i'm sorry for any typos ksjdbgksbdg

Dead Souls- It's a combination of the title and sound for this one. It kind of encapsulates that cool guy vibe that he was born with, that Tugger was born with too. Kind of slow, steady and strong. It covers his general essence, the sort of beat of his heart if you will, and then the lyrics speak to his loneliness as a child and the allure of giving into his worst impulses. He's just lost, looking for support which he unfortunately doesn't find.

How Soon Is Now?- Same idea here. He's left the tribe, he's on his own and every bit of positivity has disappeared. He's hopeless and tired of feeling "other" and not getting what he feels he deserves from those around him so focuses on building an empire instead, exploring crime and taking what he wants, because it won't be given to him. Essentially, he's tired of waiting and tired of trying to make things work at home. "I've already waited too long," if you catch my drift. And "I am human and I need to be loved," is self explanatory: All he wanted was to be accepted for who he was, and that wasn't happening, so he left.

Hungry Like The Wolf- He's hungry. He's hungry for power, for fame, and unbeknownst to him until he lays eyes on Demeter, love. He's ignored that bit for a while now and focused on taking things to fill the void instead, but when he meets her he's just blindsided with this desperation to have her. He's determined, and at this point he is quite a hunter. He knows how to read people, how to break them apart, to get what he wants. She doesn't make it easy. Honestly she makes it a little hard for him to think straight, and always does. He feels like a beast chasing after her, and luckily for him, he catches her.

Candyman- Demeter has fallen for his charms and for the bits of him that are still, whether he admits it or not, Jellicle. She's intrigued by him and has no idea of what she's going to endure by letting herself fall into his arms. And he has no intention of hurting her, never does, but to any bystander it's clear that he's dangerous, and that things won't end well. He can't help his nature, and she can't change it.

Don't Fear The Reaper- Whether he admits it or not, he's a reaper, and she starts to understand that, at least a little, but it doesn't bother her. They come to know each other better, shared their experiences and pain and believe they're a true match. They've been hurt and lonely and turn from strangers to "us against the world," or and naively think that they'll always be together. He hasn't fallen yet, but he will.

The Same Deep Water As You- He is at his core, really a sad figure. He thought Demeter would fill the void, and she does fill some of it, but not all, and in the quiet hours of the night between heists and fights and celebrations of his power, he crumbles in her arms and clings to her. But they're both starting to realize that maybe it's not for the best. Maybe they're not what each other really needs, and he hates that idea. It's her, or nothing, he thinks. He'll be damned if he lets her go.

The Killing Moon- This is really the shift. He's killed others now, and finds more joy in violence than anything, excepting Demeter's company. It's a kind of latent realization on Demeter's part of what she's gotten herself into, and how nothing she could have done would've let her avoid any of this. She's disgusted, and somewhat terrified, but knows that he won't let her go, and she still loves him despite it all. It's a cruel twist of fate. He's determined to keep her, reminiscing on their meeting and how he fell in love with her. Honestly the memory of it is sweeter than being with her now, and it's killing them both.

The Promise- She keeps distancing herself from him, and he keeps trying to get closer. He's given her so many promises, but at this point, they don't matter anymore. It's really upsetting, to see what they've become, and part of him knows it's his fault. He feels guilty for it, but he can't stop doing what he does, because he doesn't know how. Who is he without power, without bending others to heel? A scared, damaged tom, and that's worse than anything. He can't face his own reflection in the mirror, and that's his, and their, downfall.

Monsters- He's angry at her, she's angry at him, though they won't show it to each other. But he's not an idiot. He can see how her soft gazes have turned hard, how she doesn't lean into his touch anymore, and she watches him grow more violent day by day, until he well and truly is a monster. His frustration at her turns into frustration at everyone else, and finding new ways to be cruel to his enemies, and even his subordinates, is the only way he can redirect the pain it's causing him. But they're still hanging on by a thread. She's too scared to leave, and he's scared of her leaving. But there's no saving it, even if she cares about him and always will.

Vantablack- His romantic gestures used to delight her, comfort her, but now any attempt from him just makes her feel dread. It absolutely ruins him that she's not comfortable with him anymore, and when he tries to make things like they were, it's useless. He's let too much darkness consume him, and he can't hold on to her anymore. It makes him insanely angry, and he lashes out at others twice as hard as a result. He blames her for it all too, when she runs away, and leaves him all alone.

Not Just A Name- He really thought she was his match, that she was the one cat who understood him and wouldn't let him down. She made him believe that things could be good, that he could find happiness, but he didn't realize just how much of himself he would have to change for that to happen. He refused to change, couldn't bring himself to, and instead surrendered to his worst impulses, and now she's run from him. He wasn't who she thought he was, and she clearly didn't know him as well as he thought she did, and quite frankly, he's just hurt. (Even if it was all his fault, he doesn't see it that way.) "Made me someone I wasn't, it's not just a name." He didn't, and can't, meet her expectations, or be what she needs, and that might be the only thing he's ever experienced that really breaks his heart. And she won't ever give him another chance.

The Less I Know The Better- He tells himself he doesn't need her, that he doesn't want her back. He tells himself he couldn't care less if she rots out there on the streets without him, but really, he still cares. He still wants her. He's haunted by her absence, and wants nothing more than her at his side again. She really was the last tie to his humanity, his morality, and he's lost without her. He'll beg for her, if he has to. He needs her back, but she's moved on, and ironically, was pushed into his brother's arms.

Loner- He constantly flips between thinking of stealing Demeter back or burning everything to the ground. He steals and fights and commits crimes just because he can, just because there's nothing else to do, or feel, without her. He's entirely closed off. When she was there, one of his henchcats could sometimes ask him questions or have somewhat easy conversation with him, but nowadays that's an impossibility. He has completely put on a mask and only barks out orders, reprimands, or toys with others to pass the time. He's just this angry, lonely figure. He hardly feels like a person at this point. Without Demeter, he has no direction, and no connections.

Gimme Shelter- The more time passes, and the more he realizes he can't get Demeter back, the worse he gets. He's intentionally nefarious at this point, and hateful. He resents her too, even though he still loves her. If he ever gets his paws on her, he isn't sure if he'll caress her or choke her. It's a bitter, cruel world, he has remembered, and the only way to survive it is to be crueler than everyone else around you.

I'm So Afraid- He truly feels as if he's been alone his entire life, and loneliness is the root of his problems. He felt lonely and misunderstood as a child, driven away. He feels lonely without Demeter, without her love. Really, if he tried hard enough, he could come back from his darkness, maybe try to find a new life, repent for his mistakes, but he's too scared. He's afraid of losing himself, knows he already has, honestly, and there's nothing to do about it. Macavity is big and strong and clever and intelligent but underneath all that he's always just been terrified of emotions, of abandonment, and of himself, and whatever bits of him that are Jellicle, burried deep down, are disappointed, and it kills him. He hates that he still has those feelings, and wants to drown them, or lock them away forever. He'd rather feel emptiness than any of this anymore.

Lord Of This World- At this point his name is beyond infamous. No one remembers the more tender parts of him, and no one relates to him. He's been branded a villain, by everyone, and so assumes the role with a sick sense of pride. He knows he's not to blame for how he is, no matter what the others say, and won't let them judge him. He's in charge. He is a stronger, better leader than his old tribe could ever have, and this is his world. He bears that burden alone, but believes it was always his to bear, just like it was his burden to fall in love with Demeter and endure so much suffering for her kiss on his lips.

Double Dare- He invites his old tribe and in fact everyone around him to self reflect. They're not blameless, they're not better than him, and they're not as strong as him. They haven't survived what he has, haven't built something from nothing, haven't overcome his odds. He thinks everyone around him is weak, even Demeter, for not sticking by him He's angry at her for being with the Jellicles, and believes they've killed the stronger bits in her, the twinge of darkness that she also had, and allowed them to be miserable together. He won't be fooled, won't be changed, even at the cost of her, now. Either she'll be brave enough to come back to him, like he believes she should, because she was made for him, or he is truly the only brave cat in the world. And if that's the case? Then so be it.

-------

So yeah. This man is fucking delusional. Yes, he had a rough start to life, but it was his own arrogance and fear that prevented him from becoming a better person or adjusting. He turned to dark coping mechanisms instead, and ended up ruining the only positive relationship he's ever formed for the sake of remaining comfortable. If he wasn't so frightened of judgment and change, things could have gone very differently. But nope. Now he's hated by everyone, including the object of his affections, and he'll be sitting alone atop the cold throne he built for the rest of his life. He's really just driven by impulse and desire, despite his masterful approach to crime. It's an interesting juxtaposition. Someone so powerful and intelligent is really just constantly pushed and pulled by his emotions. He's one second from spiraling out of control at all times, and that's what makes him really dangerous more than anything.

#my shit #asks #macavity #demecavity #cats 1998 #cats the musical #demeter #cats demeter #demeter cats #macavity the mystery cat

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thevoidcannotbefilled · 4 years

Text

I say this in the most unironic way possible: Madoka Magica AU for TMA.

The world is infested with pockets of fears that hurt everyone who comes near or in contact to them. The worst of these are Manifestations, which actively attack people and seek them out, distorting the land around them to create a world where the only laws of physics are the ones it creates. To combat this, creatures from the entities go and find people to be their avatars, able to wield their power at the cost of normal life. And to power their change, they make one wish equal to the power within them.

But, of course, this is not all what it seems. When becoming an avatar, each person is given a gem to power themselves. Over time, the gem gets slowly corrupted, little flames, little eyes peeking through the sea of color. They're not told this, but the gem? That's not just power, it's their mind, their heart, their soul kept safe within its confines. Their body is just a vessel now.

And if their gem gets fully corrupted? Well, avatars are manifestations of their entities after all. If they are more fear than person, it's time to emerge, to Manifest.

There are two ways to prevent this: 1) Manifestations when they're defeated, drop a core. This core can be used to slow down corruption. But the most consistent way... well, sometimes you need to cause fear in order to prevent more right?

So, shit's fucked and for the most part, most of the avatars dont know the truth behind what they do or if they do, don't care because they're enjoying being awful.

Which brings the Institute crew.

Honestly at this point, this is just the plot of Madoka but we'll continue anyway.

Jon, Sasha, and Tim are all working at the Magnus Institute when they have a new recruit, Martin Blackwood. He's odd, stern, and in a way incredibly distant. It's almost like he isn't there, and yet when the rest of the crew think of him, they can only think that he has a nice smile.

Well, Jon thinks other things. 1) Martin seems incredibly competent at this and 2) the tea makes is absolutely perfect. He has no idea what to make of any of this. But Martin doesn't seem to keen to talk to any of them more than strictly necessary, which is perfectly fine with him.

There's an attack, Martin surprise surprise, uses odd powers of disappearing(?) to stop it. Elias with a help from a creature from the entities tries to recruit the crew to becoming avatars, but Martin tells him off, and manages to convince the crew to talk with him and hear him out.

Martin tells them about the avatars. About the fear manifestations. He tells them how this isn't a choice that can be so quickly made that it will change their lives, make them... inhuman.

Tim asks about the wishes. What they can do. Martin quietly answers that whatever he wants to wish, it's not worth the price. Sasha asks why Martin is doing this and why didn't he tell them.

He goes quiet, but then answers honestly, he knew they wouldn't believe him.

For Jon, he asks every question imaginable. Who are you really? What can you do? Why did you protect us? What are those creatures? Why shouldn't I become one of these avatars? What's wrong with Elias?

And Martin answers some of them vague. Some of them full answers. But he says this: I just want everyone to be safe.

Skipping a bit, this story becomes a combo of Martin continuously preventing Jon from becoming an avatar while the world goes to hell around them. Tim becomes an avatar to save his brother. Only to be corrupted by the realization that he's now stuck in this cycle. Sasha becomes an avatar for what she says, to protect others, but she wants to know, needs to know what's going on.

Sasha dies from the a Manifestation, the Not!Them. Tim dies, on the edge of Manifesting himself, but goes down, dying as he takes out the Unknowing.

Throughout all this, Jon slowly realizes there are things Martin isn't telling him. And he asks directly, why aren't you letting me become an avatar? Why aren't you letting me help anyone?

And Martin, terrified that he's going to lose him to Elias' tales of power, tells him.

Martin's power isn't to disappear. In fact, he's always there. No, Martin can manipulate time.

These past few months. Martin has lived them again and again. Trying over and over to keep Jon alive. Every time Jon has become an avatar, he's died or worse, Manifested.

And it always happens. Every time. Every time he tries to go back and save Jon, it seems like there is never a happy ending for him. For them. Elias hasn't told them but there's a huge Manifestation arriving soon. If they dont stop it, do something, it will destroy all of London, and if it does that, there will be nothing they can do for it wrecking havoc all over the world.

And Martin adds, Elias wants Jon to become an avatar, to be his Archivist to either defeat it or become something far worse and far more powerful.

What Martin doesn't know, the wish gains power from the world around them. And Jon, while having the ability at the beginning to be a pretty decent avatar, has become something more. By going back over and over, Jon has become more important in the grand scheme of things, a fixation gaining power of decision with every loop. As much as Martin tries, going back has only made Jon's ultimate fate more ensured and more destructive.

And Jon... he's terrified. But he knows what to do. He wishes there was no such thing as Manifestations in all of existence.

In doing so, he rewrites the laws of the universe. However, by doing so, he essentially destroys his own existence. There can not be avatars without Manifestation. And thus, Jon exists and yet he doesn't.

And Martin.... maybe it's a gift maybe it's a curse, but he remembers Jon. He remembers the many loops trying to keep that stubborn man safe. He remembers the soft smiles that Jon only let the most precious to him see. He remembers falling in love. He remembers sometimes, being loved back.

It hurts. It hurts so much to lose him. But, these moments, these memories, they mattered. Martin loved Jon and that love that determination to save the world mattered. If he didn't think that Jon's life didn't matter, the world would have gone to hell the first time with nothing left but despair.

This isn't a happy ending. It isn’t fair and it isn’t right. But it is an ending made best despite the circumstances. Because despite the fear, despite everything against them, it was love, love of others, love of the world, that saved everyone. It may not exist anymore, but it mattered. They mattered. And sometimes that's enough.

#tma #the magnus archives #pmmm #LISTEN-#puella madoka magica #listen has the image of witch jon and Martin sadly time looping to save Jon only to fail and had to make this #jonmartin #character death #my posts #long post

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borhap-au · 4 years

Text

“No one understands”

Part one of Eugene Sledge x Black Reader.

“As I strolled the streets of Mobile, civilian life seemed so strange. People rushed around in a hurry about seemingly insignificant things. Few seemed to realize how blessed they were to be free and untouched by the horrors of war. To them, a veteran was a veteran - all were the same, whether one man had survived the deadliest combat or another had pounded a typewriter while in uniform.” - Eugene Bondurant Sledge

The war was over. The war was finally over. After those few long years, the boys could come home. Yet in truth, not many of them actually came back. Sure, some of them survived, and even did so in one piece, without any visible wounds. However, very few - if any - came back as the same men they were before.

There were no boys anymore; but not in the sweet sense that mothers use, when they see their sons grow up, move out, find themselves wives. No, there was no sweet fairy-tale of another generation becoming the new core of the family, hopefully giving birth to sons and daughters that will keep the family name. Oh, no. Nothing of that sort.

All the boys that went to war, died. Either physically, or mentally. Eugene was part of the second group; and he did not think of himself as lucky.

Admittedly, he did not go crazy, like some of his friends. His mind was sane to the point he even could attend the Alabama Polytechnic Institute, studying business administration. Yet he did not feel like a survivor at all. He was far from the sensitive, young boy he used to be when he enrolled to the army. He saw and did things he should have never seen, and should have never done. Even though he came back to Alabama, he felt like his soul was shot dead on the battlefield, and there was no hope of resurrection.

The fact that he could not find anything that was meaningful enough for him did not help. He desperately searched for something that would help him get out of bed in the morning, but he was far from finding it. There was no purpose, no will to live. He sometimes had a feeling all he did was for his parents, so at least they could say they are proud of him. He for sure was not proud. Nor happy.

He lost his joy somewhere on the Pacific islands, and no matter how hard he searched for it, there was no way to find it anywhere around him. Nevertheless, he kept on searching, hoping that one day things will change.

He did not mind girls thinking enrolling to an army was an act of heroism, but he flinched anytime someone called him a hero. He knew what he did and because of that, he did not allow people to think of him as anyone else than a forced assassin. If anyone dared to ask him what his war experience was like, he always answered straight to the point. He did not spare any details about brains and guts flying around, his enemies bleeding out to death, and him shooting people before they shot at him. He was done with people thinking he did a good thing. He despised himself after everything that happened on the Pacific. Yet he could not explain to anyone how that actually felt. The guilt, the reoccurring nightmares, it was a lot for one man to handle. There were no words in any human language that were appropriate enough to explain what that experience was like. Even when he was talking to some of his fellow veterans, they could not find words. They desperately needed to change the subject, to get their minds away from it. Unfortunately, they never could.

This is exactly why meeting girls was not easy in his case. He was in his mid-twenties, he was young, handsome, intelligent, and if it was not for the war, perhaps he would be married already. But the war did happen, no one could deny that. And it left a wound in the mind of the young man, too infectious for him to just pick any girl and be happy with her. There were not many women in this world that could bring him piece of mind, or joy of any kind. He was actually scared to search for those kind of women, because if he picked the wrong one, he could change her life forever, and not in a good sense. Therefore, he usually spent his evenings alone, trying not to think about his friends, who never saw the horrors of war, getting engaged, married, becoming fathers. He smiled at people inviting him to events and kindly denied. Very few of his friends took the courage to drag him out of the house to socialize. They knew that staying all alone would do no good to Sledge, especially if he was left with nothing but his thoughts.

The only place he attended regularly, where he was able to meet new people, was library. He read a lot, because science took his mind away from war, at least temporarily. He sat at one of those big tables in the back of the room with his book, and proceeded reading.

“No, you don’t understand me. You speak like them! It’s not how it’s supposed to be, it’s not how it has to be, and it’s definitely not how it’s going to be in the future!” a girl whisper-shouted at her friend sitting next to her. They were behind Eugene’s back and he decided not to turn around for now. He continued reading.

“If everyone were saying what you’re saying right now,” the young woman continued, “if everyone had that attitude, you’d be picking cotton on some white man’s plantation right now.” That comment made Eugene want to turn his head to look at the girl. He was as far away from being racist as one can be. He had a lot of admiration for Afro-American soldiers, both men and women, who fought for a country built on slavery. As a resident of one of the southern states, he knew more people who hated Booker T. Washington than those who hated Russia, and let’s remember that the United States has just entered the age of the Cold War. Eugene admired the girl’s courage to speak about such matters in a public place. To show his respect, as the only person in the room, he did not turn his head. Even though it was fairly hard not to hear what she was saying in a place as quiet as the reading room in a library.

“So what are you suggesting?” the other girl asked. Her voice was higher than her friend’s and she definitely did not show as many emotions and excitement. “A revolution?”

“Yes,” the other girl scoffed after hearing that. “But not a bloody one. We, as civilization, we finally have to enter… social evolution. White people need to understand we are equal to them. And white men should understand all women are equal to them.”

“One thing at a time.”

“Why? And who decides who gets to go first? Not to mention that there are no ‘women rights’ if there are no ‘black women rights’. We’re all in this together!”

“Tell that to white women.”

“And I will. I will. And I’d like you to be there with me, to spread the word,” she smiled widely, but Eugene did not see that. He still tried to focus on his book.

“No mass meetings. They would throw us to jail anytime. You know that my mom would kill me.”

“I like that you immediately thought about doing it big. But you’re right, not yet. There’s no point in going to jail on a first day and spending the rest of the social evolution there. Let’s work locally. Let’s talk with people we know. Let’s spread the word.”

“I think you made it fairly clear to all the people you know where you stand with your political views,” truth be told, the girl’s friend believed with her entire heart in the matter. She was just too scared to do anything. She heard many stories about her ancestors, cousins, friends being beaten, tortured, raped and killed as soon as they spoke a word about the problem of racism. She wanted to do something, but she was afraid that the Black Community was not strong enough yet, not united enough.

“Then let’s talk to someone else. Let’s talk to students. They’re educated, they should be fairly smart. Smart enough to persuade them, at least,” she smiled and looked around. Before her friend could stop her, she stood up and sat next to Eugene.

“Hello,” she smiled to him and he smiled back, putting the book away. Only now was he able to look at her properly. Her eyes were brown and they draw the most attention. The girl’s intelligence was centred in those eyes. One look at her and he already knew he was talking to someone ambitious and determined, someone, who will not give up easily, but also someone, who was on the side of the angels. She fought for the right cause, and despite the fact Eugene did not know her, he cheered for her and hoped she will succeed.

“Hi,” he slapped himself mentally for looking too long at the girl’s beautiful smile. She was the definition of timeless beauty. He could not take his eyes off her. And to be fair, he did not want to.

“My name is Angel,” and she definitely was one. He could not hid a smile when he heard that. What an appropriate name for that girl.

“Eugene,” he said smiling, and her smile got wider too. She was used to those frat boys not answering her just because she was not white.

“Nice to meet you. You know, Eugene, I have something I’d like to talk to you about. Namely, human rights. Women rights. Black people’s rights…” Angel’s friend hold her breath not even wanting to hear what happens next.

“Then you definitely picked the wrong person,” Eugene answered, smiling apologetically.

“Listen-“ she started, not letting this to be a lost cause.

“I’m already on your side.”

She looked at him with a little bit of disbelief. Was he making fun of her? Never in her lifetime had she met a man who would openly support human rights. Not Afro-American rights. Not in Alabama.

“Honestly, I think what you were saying before – pardon, I just overheard, I was not listening on purpose – it was very brave. And I support you. I did not hear somebody talking with such courage about the need of the race equality since I came back from Japan.” He did not want to say he was a soldier and she felt that in his voice. So she did not ask.

“So there were more people like me?”

“Oh, and not only black! We were all in for the cause. Alright, maybe not all… But me and all of my friends. Come on, it’s already a high fucking time- Oh, please forgive me. I definitely shouldn’t be using such language around a lady. Old habits.”

“It’s alright. So it’s a high fucking time for what?” she smiled under her breath and he chuckled quietly.

“For white men to stick their heads out of their asses and understand that the world does not revolve around them. It never did,” if attractiveness was measured in intelligence, there was not a single more attractive white male in the entire States. She smiled looking at him, and she was truly happy that she has approached him. Not very often you meet someone who has the same views as you do. Especially not if it is not their fight. Especially not if you are black and they are not. Especially not in ‘Bama.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

They caught people’s attention. A few older white ladies shook their heads hearing them. Angel’s friend was getting more and more anxious.

“Ang, we should go,” she said quietly to her friend. Angel turned to her and smiled.

“Eugene, this is my friend, Araminta. She was actually named after Harriet Tubman, because Harriet’s-“

“…birth name was Araminta Ross. I know,” they both looked at him shocked. Who this man even was?

“Angel, really, we need to go,” she pulled her friend’s sleeve. She turned to her.

“Wasn’t Jeremiah supposed to pick you up?” her friend nodded. “Then go where you two are supposed to meet. I’ll be fine,” but Araminta did not believe her.

“Angel, let’s go.”

“If you’re worried about your friend’s safety, I’ll be more than happy to walk her home. If she allows me, of course,” he smiled slightly and Angel pointed at him.

“See? I’ll be fine. Plus we didn’t finish our conversation yet. You go, we’ll talk tomorrow.” Araminta did not know what she was supposed to do. She looked at the clock. Jeremiah should be at the agreed place soon. She took her friend aside.

“Why do you trust him?”

“I don’t necessarily trust him. I just think he’s intriguing. Don’t worry, I won’t let him walk me home, and I’ll come back before it gets dark. He just doesn’t seem like the violent type.”

“You can never know with an ex-soldier.”

“You should know better than anyone that stereotypes are harmful. And you should really go, I don’t want Jeremiah to be mad at you because of me.”

“Let me know as soon as you’re home.”

“I will.”

They hugged and said goodbye. Araminta was not at all sure about Angel’s plan, but she knew her friend was too stubborn and too brave to say no to such occasion.

“You know, I was thinking,” he stood up, taking his coat. “That perhaps it would be better if we went to the coffeehouse that is nearby. Talking is not really welcome in reading rooms, and I don’t wish to be banished from here,” he smiled apologetically.

“Oh, that’s not a problem. We can go,” she smiled and put her book in her bag. The coffeehouse was literally three doors away. They sat by a table in a corner of the room. The place was quite crowded, but the people were chatting and they were slightly away from the rest, so there was not a threat of people eavesdropping now. It did not stop people from turning their heads when they walked by. A white man and a black girl. Eugene knew that his parents will hear about this before he comes back home.

“So, tell me something about yourself. Please,” he smiled taking one of the coffees his friend has brought them. Eugene always came to the same place for coffee, because one of his buddies was a waiter here. They sometimes had time for a little chat during his break.

“Well, my greatest idols, as you may suspect, are Frederick Douglass and Ida B. Wells. I have probably read every book on the problem of racism that was ever written. I also adore suffragists. I think white women and black people should unite to fight for their rights.”

“I agree. And all those with any knowledge about the world should stand on their side.”

“Oh, yes, I’m sorry. I’m so used to talking to my black friends, I tend to demonize that stereotypical white male..”

“Oh, but that man is guilty. I can tell you that for sure. I saw what a white man is capable of. Don’t be sorry, we both know who invented slavery.”

“You’re right, but… I don’t want you to feel attacked.”

“I don’t think any innocent man will feel attacked by what you’re saying. Well, not guilty of racism or sexism at least.”

“So, um… Who is your idol?”

“I don’t think I have idols. Not anymore. But I like what you’re saying, I like your approach. You can be my idol,” she hid her face in her hands, because she was embarrassed, but also because she was smiling a bit too widely after hearing that.

“I meant real idols… Like people who actually did something.”

“You did something, you changed my point of view. But alright, I’ll wait those five years, then I’ll call you my idol, so I can enlist the things you have done by then.”

“You are impossible!” she chuckled shaking her head.

“I’m sorry…”

“No. It was a compliment.” She smiled slightly and took a few sips of her coffee.

To be continued…

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makeste · 5 years

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Top 10 Favorite Deku Moments

so it’s Deku’s birthday today!! and since he is the best boy in the world and I love him, I am going to do one of those “top ten favorite...” lists for him just like I did for Kacchan back in April. these are going to be in chronological order, and the last two will be spoilers, so I’ll label them to make sure no one gets caught unawares.

happy birthday Deku. and this post turned out to be super long, like 4000 words, so I’m sorry, but you deserve it though.

1. “Most of the top heroes show signs of greatness even as children.”

okay so before I get started, let me just warn y’all upfront that a full four out of ten of these moments will involve Bakugou. I’ve said before that the relationship between Izuku and Katsuki is full stop my favorite part of the series, and this is absolutely still true, so yeah.

that being said, what makes this particular scene one of my favorites isn’t just that it’s an important moment between them (I’ll get into that relationship more two entries down); it also just so happens that this is the crucial moment which everything else in the series can ultimately be traced back to. this is the moment that inspires All Might to hand his power down to a quirkless middle-schooler, because despite being virtually powerless, Izuku proves that he has the heart and soul of a hero. he moves without thinking, without any kind of plan. it’s extraordinarily stupid, and incredibly selfless. it doesn’t matter to him that he has no way to actually fight this villain. it doesn’t matter that less than an hour ago, Bakugou was taunting him and burning his notebook. it doesn’t matter that he could easily be hurt or killed. the only thing that matters is that someone needs help. that’s it. it’s that simple.

what makes Izuku a hero is that he is literally incapable of standing by and not taking action in moments like this. he acts on reflex to save others. his instinct in moments of danger and despair is to help, in any way he can. that’s the core of his character. and it shines through in this moment, and All Might sees it immediately, and it spurs him to take action, and from here on out everything changes.

2. “He didn’t utilize his full power. He just concentrated it into his fingertip...!”

fast-forward to the first day of superhero school, and our boy finds himself immediately in a tight spot again because his teacher is a stern and unsympathetic asshole whose way of showing consideration for his students is to mercy-expel anyone he deems not up to par. problem is, Izuku can’t actually use his new quirk without blowing himself up from the inside out, and he’s competing against what is probably the most gifted group of students U.A. has ever had. this is what is commonly referred to as “a pickle.” a jam. a quandary, if you will. if he breaks all his bones to pass the test, Aizawa will flunk him anyway. what’s a little green hero to do.

Izuku solves this problem in a typical Izuku fashion, meaning that his solution is somehow reckless, self-sacrificing, and frankly brilliant in its simplicity. rather than break all of his bones, Izuku sacrifices one (1) bone in order to launch a baseball into space, thus proving he can adapt his quirk to be useful without taking himself out and just adding to the problem. it’s worth noting that this is only his second-ever time using One for All, too. the fact that he has never had a quirk in his life up til this point and yet manages to control OFA to this degree on just his second go-around is damn impressive.

but what’s even more impressive is the way he simply outsmarts the test here. he calmly takes in the situation, thinks about the options at his disposal, and arrives at a logical solution that most people wouldn’t even have considered, because it involves intentionally breaking his own finger, which is an absurdly self-destructive thing to do just to pass a damn fitness test. but it works!! and it impresses the shit out of Aizawa too. and I just really love this moment because it’s such a perfect example of Deku both being smart and also just plain not giving a fuck and being the plussest ultra ever omfg.

3. “I can’t say much. But you should know this, at least...!”

so now we come to the second moment on this list involving Kacchan, and already there is a pattern emerging here: namely, that these moments of conflict and then reconciliation between the two of them inevitably end up being some of the most pivotal moments in the series. this particular scene comes on the heels of their battle in All Might’s first hero class, during which Deku soundly defeats Bakugou and makes it clear beyond all doubt that HE IS HERE!! and not going anywhere and Bakugou is just going to have to deal. Bakugou does a very poor job of dealing, however, and spends the rest of the afternoon super-quiet and caught up in his inferiority complex and convinced that Deku has been hiding this from him their whole childhood just to fuck with him.

most people, when put in a similar situation, would be all “fucking serves you right tbh” and just brush it right off. but Izuku doesn’t. or more accurately, I should say that he can’t. once again he acts on pure instinct when Kacchan’s welfare is involved, and this time it results in him blurting out his biggest secret -- a secret he was sworn to by All Might himself -- simply because he can’t stand to see Kacchan so miserable and he can’t bear the thought of him believing that Izuku really had been tricking him.

this is so extraordinary to me for a number of reasons. first and foremost, because Izuku’s altruism knows absolutely no bounds. he and Kacchan are on possibly the worst terms any two people could be on. he has absolutely no obligation to tell him this. but he does, anyway! just to make him feel better! second, there’s the fact that he doesn’t intend to do it, but it just comes blurting out. Izuku’s feelings toward Kacchan are complicated, as we know. and yet whatever the reason may be, Izuku demonstrates again and again that it’s a relationship he wants to hold onto, and he does his best to protect and preserve what little pieces of it he can.

and lastly, this is now the second example of what will become a well-established theme in the series of Izuku going out of his way to save Katsuki. he does this again and again. he tries to help him after he falls from the log bridge. he rushes to save him from the sludge monster. he tells him about his quirk. he nearly fails their final exam because he goes back for him after All Might knocks him out. he runs into a forest full of villains to try and save him in spite of having two broken arms. he goes to Kamino with Kirishima and the others knowing full well it could get him expelled. and he fights him at night in Ground Beta even though they get into trouble for it later, because he sees how much pain Katsuki is in and he can’t turn his back on him.

over and over again he puts himself in harm’s way for Katsuki’s sake, fully expecting no gratification to ever come from it, but doing it anyway. because he’s a hero, and because heroes don’t ask whether or not someone deserves to be saved. they just save them. this to me is the most incredible aspect of Izuku’s character. his heart is just that big. he is exceptionally, impossibly selfless and forgiving and good. and that’s just who he is. and Bakugou is lucky enough to be on the receiving end of that, whether he likes it or not, and ultimately over the course of these repeated encounters, he ends up changing for the better himself. and this moment in particular will, eventually, lead to the two of them actually reconciling for realsies when Bakugou finally figures it out and is subsequently inducted into the OFA Scooby Squad of Destiny. so yeah. this scene is so fucking important I can’t even begin. god I really went off on a tangent there. anyways.

4. “And Todoroki... isn’t you!”

so here’s another battle which highlights Izuku’s willingness to go to absurd and horrifying lengths to sacrifice himself for the sake of others. this entire fight is nothing short of ridiculous. Deku is ridiculous. let me break it down for you. Todoroki comes up to Deku before this fight and is all “hey I made a vow to never use my left side in battle because my dad only had me to use me as a tool to defeat All Might and he basically ruined my life.” in response, Deku says he’s aiming to become the strongest hero and so he’ll definitely win. he then proceeds to break his own fingers to blast Todoroki with repeated OFA attacks, all the while screaming at him that everyone is going all out and doing their best, and it’s arrogant and disrespectful of Todo to think he can beat their determination with only half of his power.

Deku has absolutely zero regard for his own well-being in this fight -- by the end of the battle his bones are in splinters -- and his teachers observe that even if he does win, he won’t be in any kind of shape to move on to the next match. basically, he throws aside all of his own ambitions and even his own sense of self-preservation (if he even has one; it’s honestly debatable at this point you guys), all for the sole purpose of helping Todoroki realize that his power is his own and not his father’s, and to break free of the revenge-tinted tunnel vision keeping him from following his own dreams. the whole thing leaves Todoroki awestruck, and even though Deku eventually loses the fight, he gains a friend for life, and Todo fans everywhere are in his debt.

real fucked up what he did to his fingers, though. but it just goes to show that nobody is perfect.

5. “I’m here to save you, Iida!”

I freaking love this moment you guys, and I can’t even explain why. except that who doesn’t love a good old-fashioned last-minute shounen save? Iida is seconds away from meeting his death at the hands of the world’s most annoyingly long-winded Ninjas Turtles cosplayer when Deku drops in out of nowhere and just socks the guy square in the jaw. it is satisfying as fuck. honestly that would have been awesome enough, but what makes it even better is that Horikoshi goes into some detail to explain that Deku didn’t just coincidentally happen to find Iida at the exact crucial moment, but actually used his Big Hero Brain to deduce Iida’s location through a series of shrewd observations and insightful hunches. and he turns out to be bang on the money, and that moment where Stain is reeling from the punch and Iida is looking up at him like, “Midoriya?!” and Deku sticks the landing in slow motion and says “Bingo!” in fucking English is just so fucking badass, guys. not to mention that this is also the debut of his Shoot Style on top of everything else. to sum up, this is one of the best entrances in the entire series, and just one of the coolest things Deku has ever done, IMO. you’re cool, Deku.

6. “You clocked me with all of your heart.”

yeah so you may at this point be sensing a pattern with some of these moments. yet again Deku does something stupid and risky because he sees Kacchan in trouble and all logic and reason immediately fly out the window. in this case it’s even more ridiculous, because Katsuki is not actually in any real danger at all, and by going back for him Izuku completely loses sight of what Katsuki got himself all beat up for in the first place. and yet he does it anyway! again! without thinking! like, he makes it maybe two steps away, and then he overhears Kacchan’s teary-eyed overdramatic and determined speech, and he immediately goes “oh fuck this I can’t do this” and turns back and grins maniacally at All Might before soundly punching the shit out of him. it is complete nonsense. there is no reason for it. Katsuki himself is furious when he finds out about it later. but does Deku care?? no, he does not care. and do I? no I do not because it’s the best and I love it.

7. “Let’s do our best, okay?”

this scene is feels city you guys. feels o’clock. zero dark feels. I almost put the “you’re next” scene here instead, but in the end this scene won out because (1) hug!! and (2) this is really the continuation of all of those emotions anyway, and it’s where the catharsis is at.

so let’s break this down since there’s a ton going on here. Deku is wrestling with the grief of knowing that All Might the hero, the Symbol of Peace, is gone forever. the pillar he and the rest of the world relied on to always be there isn’t there, any more. that sense of security is gone. and that’s a hard enough thing to come to grips with on its own, but put it together with the knowledge that he is the one who needs to step up now and fill those shoes, before he ever expected to, before he’s ready, and I can only begin to imagine how overwhelmed he must feel. and then on top of that!! All Might tells him he’s proud of him and relieved that he made it out of Kamino unharmed! and he tells him that he’s going to be there for him and that they’ll face the challenges up ahead together.

so for poor Deku, when you put that all together, we’ve got (a) that sense of loss, (b) fear and anxiety over the unknown difficulties to come, (c) various imposter syndrome feelings that he might not be good enough to handle it, (d) whatever misplaced guilt he may be dealing with for being one of the reasons All Might lost his power, however inevitable it might have been, and last but not least, (e) the deeply profound and humbling feeling of being loved and supported by the man he loves like a father, and knowing that no matter how scary things get, he won’t have to do this alone. so in spite of everything else, there’s that sense of relief and gratitude there too. he can do this. it will be okay. his dad is there.

all of that emotion, packed in one tearful hug. no wonder the kid is crying his eyes out. I would be too. in fact I did, and have no shame in doing so, and I would do it again. good job Horikoshi.

8. “This fight may very well have been a meaningless one... but...”

motherfucker did I not warn you there would be four different BakuDeku moments in this?? and that’s with me reining myself in too to be quite frank. that’s just how it is. it’s my list!!

anyway, so I’m not sure whether or not an entire fight counts as a “moment”, but I’m putting it out there anyway because I’m incapable of narrowing this down any more than that. I could have an entire separate list of Top Ten Deku VS Kacchan Part 2 Moments and I’m sure I would still wind up leaving something out. I love all of it. the whole damn thing. it’s such a huge turning point for them both. they finally sort everything out. truth bombs being hurled left and right. it’s so good. agh.

but here are some of Deku’s highlights: (1) immediately shifting from trying to talk Kacchan down to fighting him outright with no hesitation once he realizes what the fight is actually about, (2) despite knowing how Kacchan feels, allowing himself to be just a bit selfish for once and get caught up in his own rival feels and trying to prove his worth as All Might’s successor, (3) complimenting Kacchan in the middle of the fight because of course he does, (4) openly admitting how much he admired Kacchan growing up and that he thought he was amazing, (5) getting so worked up that he loses control for a moment and jumps to 8% in one of the most badass moments of the whole series, (6) acknowledging to himself that even though he really shouldn’t, he kinda digs Kacchan’s rougher “I’LL KILL YOU, ASSHOLE” side anyway and emulates it without thinking when he forgets himself and that Kacchan is his image of victory, and lastly, (7) being a sneaky bastard and throwing a punch in with his shoot style knowing full well it will catch Kacchan off guard, which it fucking does.

Deku goes hog wild in this fight. he has a grand old time and even manages to achieve a new power-up, because he and Kacchan always do manage to bring out the best in each other, when they’re not bringing out the worst. you can’t watch this fight and fail to notice how insanely fired up Deku is compared to his usual fights. he is into it. he is ready and willing to throw down. he is here to kick ass and take names!! this is the impact Kacchan has on him. thirty fucking seconds into his therapy fight and Deku's maximum power output has increased by a whopping 60%. holy shit. mad lads.

it’s something not lost on All Might, who wraps things up by patiently explaining to the two of them how much they can learn from each other. and the whole thing concludes with the two of them becoming, as All Might puts it, “proper rivals.” that’s right, their rivalry is now officially approved and sanctioned by the motherfucking Symbol of Peace. well done, boys. these two are going to be absolutely terrifying when they grow up.

***SPOILERS FOR THE MANGA PAST THIS POINT***

9. “...But you were there.”

okay so I have this indecisive kind of thing going on with whether or not I think All Might is actually going to die, and whether or not I want to see it happen. some weeks, like this particular week, I am on the side of BITCH DON’T YOU DARE because everything is goddamn sad enough as it is, Horikoshi, and I don’t need any more reasons to lie awake at night crying over fictional characters! but then there are other days when I think about how devastatingly, breathtakingly heartbreaking it would be, and for some reason I think, shit, yeah, he’s gotta do it. go ahead and hurt us good. make us feel things. leave no survivors. just fucking wreck our shit, go on ahead.

but then I read this scene again and think, there’s something so incredibly powerful about the fact that All Might started out the series believing he was going to die and being resigned to that fate and making preparations for it, only to be completely blindsided by the love he has for this boy and what that ends up doing to him. his love for Izuku gives him the strength to fight against fate. it gives him the resolve to look the grim reaper in the eye and say “to hell with this, I’m going to live.” it’s his reason to keep going. it’s his purpose. and god but that’s some powerful shit. characters saying “fuck you” to destiny? I am weak as hell for that, hell yes give me more. give me all of that.

and then Deku in this scene. pleading with All Might to keep living. “you have to live to see that moment, when I can tell the world, ‘I am here!’” promising him that no matter what happens, when the time comes, they’ll bend fate together. “without fail.” and just, holy fuck. when he says it, you really believe they can do it. because if anyone can figure out a way to conquer the inevitable, it’s this kid.

10. “Senpai... if I said that I would give you my quirk, would you...?”

last but not least, today just happens to be Mirio’s birthday as well, so it only seems fitting to end with this moment, which in the span of a single page neatly sums up why both of these kids are worthy beyond a doubt of being the next Symbol of Peace. Deku selflessly tries to offer Mirio his quirk, and Mirio instantly rejects him. doesn’t even know what’s going on, really, but just rejects the offer out of hand. “no thanks. then you would be the one subjected to this hardship.” and we can’t very well fucking have that, now can we. nope. not on Mirio’s watch. never mind that he just lost his quirk and his mentor within the span of the past twenty four hours. he wastes no time in coming to Deku’s aid in spite of that, assuring him that he did great and that everything will be just fine. so just smile already!!

but the fact that Deku was even willing to make the offer just once again goes to show how astonishingly good he is. he knows better than anyone what it’s like to be quirkless and powerless. he knows exactly what Mirio is going through. what’s more, Mirio is absolutely right that Deku did fucking amazing and totally saved the day and without him they would have all been screwed! but all Deku can see in this moment is how deserving Mirio is, and so he decides that in order to help him, he’s prepared to make what for him is the ultimate sacrifice. the power that All Might gave him. his dream of becoming the greatest hero. everything he’s worked for up to this point. he’s prepared to throw all of that away if Mirio just says the word. there truly isn’t a selfish bone in this kid’s body.

but Mirio says no. because Mirio is also selfless. in conclusion we had just better hope the two of them never wind up reaching a door together at the same time, because the ensuing battle of who holds it open for whom could singlehandedly bring this series to a dead halt. the ultimate stalemate. they are too good and we don’t deserve them.

so anyways, that’s it! happy birthday kid. and here’s one more for the road.

11. “Dear Midoriya...”

a story in three acts. character development. growth. god bless.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #all might #bakudeku #bnha meta #character rant #essay #makeste reads bnha #bakugou's birthday post was only 2800 words #I don't know if I'm getting more long-winded or if it's just that I rant about bakugou more often in general #and deku not as much #so I ended up having more to say #that could well be it #anyways this should tide me over for a nice long while now lol #deku meta #bnha top ten #bnha ranking

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homenum-revelio-hq · 5 years

Photo

Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Liz!

You have been accepted for the role of non-biography character GLADYS GUDGEON with the faceclaim of Candice Patton! I really enjoyed your family building and I love your choice of occupation for Gladys, and how that drew her into the Order. I am so excited to have you as part of this roleplay!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours!Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME: Liz AGE: 29 TIMEZONE: CST ACTIVITY LEVEL: I work from home so my availability during the day and evening varies by the demands of the day, but I always aim for a couple posts a week. ANYTHING ELSE: none

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Gladys Sloane Gudgeon AGE: 28 GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cis-female, she/her, heterosexual BLOOD STATUS: Half-blood HOUSE ALUMNI: Hufflepuff ANY CHANGES:

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

Gladys is the baby of the Gudgeon family a late addition and it’s never really been a secret that she was an absolute surprise to her parents. She doesn’t realize quite how her status as the baby has always provided a cushion from the world to some degree. This cushion and protection allowed Gladys to go into the world wide eyed and open to everything. Sometimes it made her feel a little overlooked. [Her brothers] were both older which left her behind in most things. Which only made her redouble her efforts to be noticed and catch up. When she arrived at Hogwarts she was excited to blaze her own trail only to find that her quidditch star brother and the jokester who almost lost an eye on the whomping willow had already cast a heavy shadow. Gladys was their baby sister and at first she resented it, but then she found a comfort in it. She was somewhere between the two boys in temperament and she had her own thing. So she set out to find her own pack of friends across all the houses. It was hard not to like her and she was the kind of person who asked how you are and then stopped because she really wanted to know the answer. Once you were her friend or someone she admired Gladys was a dedicated soul and you had an ally in her for life.

With Gladys you feel safe and cared for, because she just has a way about her. With Gladys she’s genuine, quick-witted, and an absolute joy. It isn’t always the easiest persona to maintain amidst a war, but if anyone has the conviction to do it than it’s Gladys. When she takes up a cause (big or small) she’s like a dog with a bone, there is no chance that she is simply going to give up on it. It could be as simple as helping someone find the perfect date outfit or her determination to help with the war in whatever way she can. She believes anything is possible if you give it enough effort, and she’s got effort in spades. Never in her life has she done something half-way, she throws herself head first and with abandon at everything that everything she has into it. For Gladys she found that if she wasn’t truly excited about something or passionate than it was time to re-evaluate what she was doing. Yet somewhere within the ball of energy that is Gladys there is a quiet that puts even the most withdrawn people at ease. However, once people were pulled into that fold that was what Gladys considered extended family and close friends they earned her unending loyalty and love. With Gladys you always knew what you were getting. She without fail wore her heart on her sleeve. If she was happy you knew it, if she was sad she never shied away from being soft or hid her tears and if she was mad well duck and cover because you were gonna know.

Gladys has an opinion on everything Whether it be the way someone wears their hair to their major life choices; she has never been able to keep them to herself. Her parents’ always encouraged open and honest communication within the family. And their constructive criticism ran from just about anything whether it’s how Gladys lives her life, Galvin’s quidditch playing, or even how funny Davey’s jokes were. While a lot of people in life have learned to turn a deaf ear to it or just smile and nod. Gladys finds herself frustrated and moody when people don’t seem to truly heed the things she’s trying to warn them about. For Gladys it is never meant in a cruel spirit or with the intent to hurt those around her. She seeks to help, but it doesn’t always come across that way. She’s found herself having to apologize for being so outspoken over the years, but it hasn’t taught her to hold her tongue, or keep her moods in check.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY:

The Gudgeon family can be best defined by their close-knit ties, and there is no doubt that Gregory Gudgeon is the roots. He’d imagined a large family….perhaps his own Quidditch team, but Catherine put that idea to rest and they settled for two. Well, were happy with two and then Gladys came along and they knew they were complete with three. Gregory was a career man, but he did what he could to ensure that it never took away from him being a family man. From the time his kids were young, he would take them on nature walks and when they were old enough camping. He helped them build forts and when Gladys went through her princess phase he built out the faux balcony outside her window. (Okay, he might have used a bit of magic with that one.) But he was determined that his children learn that life can be rich and full even with or without magic. The harsh treatment his mother and father received from his mother’s family was more than enough to ensure he wanted his children to grow seeing the beauty in every way of life. Despite being the family man Gregory has risen through the ranks at the Ministry over the years and is currently the head of the Obliviators.

Growing up Gladys thought she’d gotten a lucky her family was full of laughter, mischief, and ambition. Okay, perhaps she could have lived with a dash less of the ambition part, but it made up so much of everyone else in her family she supposed she wouldn’t change them. For Gladys growing up with a father who was a rising star at the Ministry in the Obliviator department and a mother who was a force to be reckoned with making a name for herself in the department of Magic Law Enforcement in International Law meant that she was raised in large part to her grandmother. Before she was born Gloria Gudgeon already lived with the family and she was without a doubt one of Gladys’ most favorite people. She was as ambitious as both of her parents and was always trying to push Gladys. Particularly as a teenager when Gladys discovered a love for fashion and shoes, it was far from a Gudgeon family approved passion. Gloria was complex woman though despite her harder outer shell and serious nature she always had a smile for Gladys. She was also the one who would take her into the muggle village to buy fashion magazines. She seemed to have a soft spot for the little girl. She was always the one to distract Gladys when her brothers would leave her out of their games for being too little or sit out in the garden for an extra long afternoon tea after her brothers were off at Hogwarts.

When Sprout hunted Gladys down during her fifth year and asked her to the headmaster’s office she wasn’t sure what on earth could be about. Finding her father sitting in Dumbledore’s office had been decidedly disarming. And the look on his face. Gladys thought she might remember that look for the rest of her life. She heard him when he asked her to sit down and she remembered he told her that her grandmother had passed unexpectedly. Everything after that was an absolute blur. She doesn’t remember her father leaving or how she made it back to her room. It was all a mystery to her. It rocked Gladys to her very core. She had just been with her grandmother for the Easter holidays, and nothing seemed amiss to her and to see the strongest woman she know just be no more. Gladys grew more cautious than she had been in the past. She put her nose to the grindstone and got more OWLs than she had hoped to. She knew that any potential career could be open to her with what she’d done. There was a new sort of pressure on her that she’d never experienced before she wanted to make her grandmother proud.

She didn’t realize at the time how deeply she had sunk into trying to do her grandmother proud and losing herself until her cousin Davey convinced her one night, that he needed to show her something just before curfew. It was only Davey that could have convinced her of such rubbish. Part of her was afraid that he was dragging her along to help him fix some mess of a joke gone wrong. Even as an adult it was one of Gladys’s favorite memories, the two of them had been out all night. Talking and exploring the grounds, it was the first time she had broken the rules since her grandmother passed and it felt better than she could ever express. It was one of the first times she got to see Davey step up in the more serious role and take care of her. He had always been the jokester baby cousin who she thought would never grow up but it was a new side to him.

Gladys is without a doubt one of the most stubborn and resourceful people you will find, but she honestly left school without a plan for what she was going to do next. When cornered by her parents she made up a story about how she was going to apply for a temp floating position at the Ministry that she hoped wasn’t made up. However, her mother latched onto that in an instant and offered to get her a better entry level position in the International Wizarding Regulation department. While Gladys started the job sort of determined she wasn’t going to enjoy it by default she found that she liked the people and she was interested in what was going on around her, so she dedicated herself and made herself a dedicated and integral part of the department. As for putting down roots Gladys, honestly, wasn’t sure at all what to do with herself. She just couldn’t bring herself to say she’s moved back home even though it’s where she’s temporarily been staying, but on her starting salary she couldn’t precisely afford to live where she wanted to.

When Galvin asked her to go to lunch with him she was slightly suspicious he was busy with his career, his wife, and family. Plus, a social lunch just wasn’t his normal go-to, but she had to eat and she hadn’t seen him in awhile, so she went. Her instinct when he offered to let her stay with him was to say no, because was Gal really any better than her parents? However, when he laid out what he was really asking her she had no hesitation saying no. His wife had an opportunity to go on a Curse Breaker mission in Egypt and with Gal’s quidditch schedule it left Gwendolyn on her own or Galvin having to bring in hired help on a long term basis. There was no one that Gladys adored more than her niece Gwendolyn. Gwennie was all the best parts of Gal and his wife Starla not to mention with all the time she’d spent doting on the little girl a little sprinkle of Gladys in there.

So instead of a flat on the wrong side of town or resigning herself to live with her parents she settled into Galvin’s guest room across from Gwennie and made herself at home. They found some sort of balance the three of them and even when her savings to move out on her own was more than enough to get herself a good place she found herself quite content to stay where she was. It could have been, because Starla seemed to never pop up at home more than a couple days at a time before she was whisked away on a new curse breaking mission. She did her best to keep her nose out of her brother’s marriage, but she knew he couldn’t be happy but she did her best to make it seem like it was all perfectly normal for Gwennie and did what she could to help her have a stable and happy childhood.

Gladys had always been looking for her own happily ever after, she had stars in her eyes and she’d been a little boy crazy at Hogwarts. However, helping to raise Gwennie gave her an anchor. She dated and went out occasionally, but she couldn’t shake the idea she’d had since she was little of finding her other half and her one true love. No one seemed to fit the bill and no one was worth prioritizing a relationship with over Gwennie, so she focused on her career and her niece. Between her and Galvin they did everything they could to make up for the fact that Starla was an absent mother, but as the world around them grew darker Gladys got even more worried and protective. When the time came for Gwennie to go to school Gladys did her best to advocate for something different, but Galvin was pretty set in his ways and despite Gladys’ protests 9 months of the year Gwennie is now tucked away at Hogwarts.

OCCUPATION:

Gladys has worked her way up through the International Wizarding Relations department. She began as the assistant to the secretaries in the department. Which basically made her a glorified retriever of lunch and coffee. However, she has proven herself to be invaluable over the years. She was up for a promotion when she was pulled aside by the head of the department and asked to take on a special assignment. Gladys is now over the monitoring of communications. There are key words and phrases she’s always to be on the lookout for that would be instantly reported to the higher ups. Not that it’s exactly the way it has always worked out. Most things made it to where they were supposed to, but copies were sent to people who needed to be in the know whether the Ministry approved of it or not.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

Gladys can feel the world around her changing, she knows that it is becoming less safe with each passing day, and she finds this to be completely unacceptable. Never has Gladys been one to sit on the sideline and let life happen to her. This time around though seems to be different. Her goal was to work within the Ministry to do what she could to keep things stable and help things re-stabilize, but she realizes that’s not happening. One of her tasks has always been to distribute sensitive files when they need to find their way to other department heads. When it comes to sensitive Gladys thought that meant they should be hand-delivered, because–well, in truth she just couldn’t bear to be at her desk without a solid excuse to get up and stretch her legs. Popping in and out of Moody’s office on occasion with her files for delivery is how she assumes she came onto his radar. She felt like she was getting half information from him and it felt intentional, but he was maybe one of those rare people she knew better than to get too persistent with. She’d heard whispers of the Order and if there were good guys who she could possibly help by passing information she was eager to join up. For now she contents herself with passing along information and names of those that she was certain had been flipped. She may not be the one going out on missions, but her door is always open and it comes with, an ear to listen, a warm bed for the night, or just a cup of tea, or a sandwich.

SURVIVAL:

Gladys is without a doubt one of the most stubborn and resourceful people you will find, but she honestly left school without a plan for what she was going to do next. Ending up at Galvin’s helping him take care of Gwennie was honestly one of the best things that could have happened to her, because it kept her safe and sheltered.

She was all grown up now an with a paycheck that could stand to support her and so she found her own flat close to the Ministry. Although, truth be told it’s a hit or a miss whether you can find her there or not. Despite the work she’s put in to make it feel like herself and home she more often finds herself back in her little guest room at Galvin’s. She spent almost 10 years there and it just feels safer and more comfortable than her own apartment.

Gladys is an ace when it comes to Charms she has excellent wandwork, but when it comes to dueling in truth Gladys is a bit of a mess. She’s great with defensive spells but when it comes to offensive ones she struggles. She doesn’t like the idea of hurting someone.

When it comes to the Ministry she’s carved a rather brilliant path for herself no one sees her as a threat or a concern which makes it easy to fly under the radar that she is leaking information to the Order. She knows that aligning herself with the Order is a risk, but she thinks its the wisest course of action to help her brothers and end the war so her niece can grow up in a better world.

RELATIONSHIPS:

[Galvin] Gladys always saw Galvin as the more serious and passionate brother, and both of those things are still true about him. However, with Gladys living with him and helping him with Gwennie they’ve developed a different kind of understanding of one another and they’re closer than ever.

[Davey] Gladys knows that if she’s hard pressed she can go to him in times of trouble, but really he’s the family member she goes too when she needs some fun or to let loose. She loves him but...

Now, I write this knowing that neither of these characters are actually in the roleplay currently, but those feel like pretty core relationships to me.

With the current group of available bios (clearly all of this has to work with the current players if they approve):

[younger order members] Much like when she was in Hogwarts she has a soft spot for the new recruits. Her door is always open or rather Galvin’s is (his house is bigger after all) if they need a place to lay low or to talk. Or just a bite to eat. With her niece off at Hogwarts it’s nice to have someone around who might need her a little. But she does her best to be a sympathetic ear, an encouraging word, or a grounding force.

[Someone from the inner circle (I kept ping ponging on who would be best)] They pop by for tea and Gladys is more than happy to provide tea and cake or pie or a meal. She trusts them implicitly and she knows that the information that she is passing not only is going into safe hands and will make it to all the right people, but that they won’t allow it to be traced back to her.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS: When it comes to Gladys I ship Gladys and Chemistry. I’m open to whatever this plot and group brings Gladys’s way, whether it’s a new romance or a moment or something else..

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

Gladys hasn’t quite lost her wide-eyed wonder look at the world. She tends to be open first and wonder if it was a good idea to later. Her father taught them to be open to muggles and muggleborns. As a halfblood herself she has always felt she was proof that both sides could see eye to eye. She has trouble seeing things through the extreme lenses of other people. Her first instinct when someone does something she would never is to be appalled if they are close she’ll tell them as much, so that they can understand it was wrong. If they’re not than she’ll hold her tongue and it goes on a mental running tab of why they aren’t in her inner circle.

When it comes to half-breeds Gladys is naturally suspicious. She may have been raised by an open-minded family when it came to blood status, but when it comes to things like werewolves and giants the old stories run deep and her opinion was formed as a child. If she were to find out that someone that she loved and trusted was secretly a werewolf it wouldn’t be an immediate kind of acceptance for her. Her initial reaction would likely require an apology to that person later. However, it wouldn’t be impossible either, because at the end of the day she believes who a person is on the inside can overcome whatever obstacles in her life.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO? I have been in search of a good roleplay home for a bit and there are some great places out there, but nothing has just clicked or I felt compelled to dive in. However, from the moment I stumbled onto Homenum and watched all of the bios come out and read all of the bios and plot bits the more and more excited I became by the idea of applying. It feels original and like a story definitely worth exploring.

PLOT DROP IDEAS (OPTIONAL): Any things you’d like to see for the plot drops? These can be randomized or character-specific.

ANYTHING ELSE?

EXTRA FOR NON-BIO CHARACTERS:

PAST:

Gladys was born with a heart too big for a little girl and a passion for life and people and it suited her beautifully. She also was born with two older brothers who cast their shadows far and wide and she always felt like she was fighting to be seen. The fact that both of her brother’s adored her though made it a little easier. The Gudgeon family was a pretty incredible one to grow up in if you asked Gladys. She grew up with parents determined to have their children see how beautiful every way of life. Even when she was young it was clear she was was the kind of person who was built for a world in need of love. When she went to Hogwarts she was bright eyed and excited to forge her own path no matter what. And she did. She’d never be the quidditch star or the class clown, but she was pretty, funny, genuine and witty it didn’t take her long before she found her own group of people. For Gladys Hogwarts and becoming a Hufflepuff was all about coming into her own and being her own person. She had an incredible family, but friends like these were what she’d always wanted. She loved the freedom of being at Hogwarts and so many people. She spent her time making good friends and offering assistance to the younger students who came in who were so clearly homesick. As her time at Hogwarts was coming to an end. Gladys had found herself outside of Hogwarts with no real plan and when she did leap into action it was brought only by sheer necessity to avoid a lecture from her parents and her mom calling in a couple favors at the Ministry to land her first job for her. Luckily, despite her initial decision to hate the job on principal she kind of loved it, add to that a brother who needed her help with her niece and suddenly Gladys’ life found itself full.

PRESENT:

Gladys not only found herself at home in the International Regulations Department, but she worked her way up from the bottom making herself indispensable and now she has her own special assignment. As the Ministry becomes more infiltrated, Gladys becomes more uneasy with what she’s doing to help. Not her decision to help the Order by passing information when she can, but to be honest, idleness is the greatest enemy of a woman like Gladys. She has made herself essential within the Ministry, but people still see her bubbly personality and appearance and she’s the last thing they see as a threat. The kind of thing that Gladys once loathed she now relishes, because she can make it work for her. You underestimate her and she’ll exploit it and get all the information she can for the Order without raising suspicions. She feels like people are becoming more complacent with the changes around them and the Order could be losing any footing it had in this war. There is precious little that she wouldn’t give up to see a change in what is becoming the status quo. She’s fighting with everything in her to get every piece of information that could be helpful to the Order into their hands, not only that but to see if perhaps there is more that she can do on her own to offer

FC CHOICES: Candice Patton, Emeraude Toubia

#homenumaccepted #marauders rp #bio rp #hp rp #app rp

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yoongi-sugaglider · 6 years

Text

Of Sunshine and Rainy Days

Hoseok x plus sized reader

A/n: This is posted from my phone and sort of unedited lol but I hope you all can get past the beginning because the end is well worth it.

The mirror mocks me. Though I’ve always wanted to avoid it, somehow it always seems to draw me in. Especially after showers and early mornings when I’ve just woken up and the rest of the dorm remains still and sleeping.

Here I stand, having just completed my shower and the steam in the bathroom hasn’t yet had time to clear. Wiping the mist from the mirror I stare down my curved figure. Frowning at the stretch marks that split my skin at the seams. The rolls of skin that cascade like waves down my stomach, pockets of fat that won’t melt away no matter what diet I try or how much I try to exercise.

Tears begin to form as I poke at the dimpled flesh of my arms, glaring in shame and distaste at the weight that won’t fade no matter how hard I try or how much I cry.

I can hear the comments online, the mumbled words spoken by family members behind closed doors.

“You’re too big.”

“You don’t deserve to be happy.”

“How dare you even think that you’re good enough to date an idol.”

They’re right, every one of them. What was I thinking? Being selfish now even though he says he loves me no matter what size I am. No matter what they say behind my back and to my face.

The tears won’t stop falling. And the taint of rejection tugs at my core so harshly I find myself collapsing against the door. Sliding slowly down it as I watch my form curling in on itself in the taunting reflective surface.

My sobs are so loud and soul wracking that I almost don’t hear the gentle knock on the door above my head.

“Jagi?” a quiet voice comes through the door. I quickly scramble away from it, pulling the plush bath towel around me in order to hide my form.

“It...it’s open…” I struggle to talk through the lump of tears in my throat but I know he’s heard me.

The knob turns and slowly the love of my life peaks his head around the corner, eyes wide when he sees me huddled against the shower door.

“Jagiya, hey…” Quietly he slides himself in the bathroom, closing the door gently behind him before making his way over to me, each stride elegant and effortless. Even the way he crouches down before me distracts me for a moment from my troubles before the tears choke out my breath and I’m reduced to a shivering mess once again.

“No no no, please don’t cry my love.” He sits beside me, gathering my into his arms and hugging my damp head to his chest.

I can feel my tears soaking through his shirt, mingling with the dampness from my wet hair. But he doesn’t seem to mind as his hand gently smoothes down the hair along the nape of my neck.

We sit there for a while, him occasionally running his fingers along the small of my back , me clutching his shirt as if it’s my last lifeline to sanity. And the tears eventually slow. My cries become a little less painful.

“Tell me what’s got you so upset sunshine.”

I hiccup at his whispered words, something between a laugh and a sob. “That’s my line you dork.” I whisper as I pull back slightly to wipe at my face.

He chuckles, running a gentle thumb beneath my eye. “There’s my beautiful smile. Now, tell me what’s got you so upset.”

I shake my head, not wanting to go into detail what’s really going on inside.

“No ma’am that’s not allowed Miss y/n.” His fingers trace the curve of my cheek, and when I try to pull out of his grip his fingers capture my chin, forcing me to look up into his eyes.

“Talk to me princess. Tell me what’s wrong?”

“It’s...just…” I heave a heavy breath, my shaking fingers wrapping around his wrist to anchor myself to the moment.

He waits. Patient as ever is he, and the softness in his eyes begins to slowly heal the gaping hole in my heart.

“It’s...my weight. I just...everytime I look in the mirror I hate myself.” Once the words begin to flow it seems like nothing can stop them.

“I hear it anytime I call my parents. Even my friends joke about it, anytime I pick up a fork or go to buy a snack it’s the same thing. How I weight too much. How I’m not healthy at my weight. How big the clothes are that I buy or how the numbers on the scale won’t change no matter what I do.”

I heave a shuddering sigh and continue. “I’m not even safe online. Anytime your fans see a picture of us together it’s always comments about how ugly I am or how fat I am. How I’m not good enough to be with you and the only reason why you’re with me is because you feel sorry for me.” I finally manage to pull my chin from his grip, curling in on myself once again and burying my face in the safety of my arms.

“Y/n…” His whispered words seem to echo through the bathroom, bouncing off the walls and reaching my ears. The sound is just as broken and scared as I feel.

I look up quickly, panic filling me. “They’re right aren’t they? You really just started dating me because you fe…”

“Y/n!” He barks, startling and stopping the word vomit in its tracks. “Just, slow down for a second okay?”

I nod slowly, my eyes following him as he climbs to his knees before me. He gently takes my hands in his, his thumbs placed purposefully on my pulse points. His eyes are hard, a determination dancing in their depths as he chooses his next words carefully.

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

I nod slowly, my mind wandering to the day I accidently stumbled on him and his friends filming a scene for one of their music videos.

“We were in the middle of nowhere, the middle of the night. Surrounded by film crew and cameras and a bunch of grumpy people trying desperately to get one stupid scene right so that we could all go home and sleep.” He smiles lightly at the memory and I’m reminded even more clearly of that night.

“You were dancing off to the side. I remember watching you. How amazed and captivated I was by your moves and how your body just flowed with the music, even though you weren’t in the scene at the time.” My smile now matches his, faint but there none the less.

“That’s right. I was dancing off to myself. And then I slipped and twisted my ankle. Nobody else saw it but you. And even though you weren’t supposed to be there you still rushed to help me up.” He chuckles again, his thumbs now slowly working small circles into my wrists.

“The manager was so mad. He thought you’d gotten me hurt. And even though they were trying to kick you off the set you still kept to my side until somebody got me the help I needed for my ankle. You were so brave that night. And when my ankle was finally wrapped up…”

“You asked me out to dinner” I giggle, ducking my head to hide the warmth in my cheeks.

“That’s right, I asked you out to dinner. Not because I wanted to thank you. Not because I felt sorry for you or because of some fake idea to ease my guilt from the way you were treated.” He ducks his head as well to catch my gaze and I’m focused on him once again, giving him my full attention.

“Why? Why did you ask me out that night?” I ask quietly, half of me is afraid of the answer and the other half just genuinely wants to know.

His eyes cast down to examine my fingers, giving time to mull over his answer before speaking.

“You know. I never really thought about it. I..I guess...” He inhales deeply and gazes lovingly into my eyes once again.

“Honestly when I saw you finally being escorted off the lot I just had this feeling. That if I didn't snatch you up right then and there I would never see you again.”

He gives off a chuckle filled with the warmth of a summer sunset on the beach. “The way you stood up to the managers. The way you yelled at Director Nim like it was your ankle that was twisted? It was the sweetest and most brave thing I’d ever seen in my life. And you just...glowed.”

I suppress a giggle,tugging at my wrists as if pretending to pull my hands from his grasp. His grip tightens though, not uncomfortably, just enough to keep me where he wants me.

“But listen Jagiya. My precious angel. The joy and love of my life…”

“Aiyooo get on with it!!” He’s words have me fully flustered by now.

“Alright alright.” his voice is filled with laughter as he presses his forehead against mine while still holding my gaze.

“Never not once did your size come to mind. Never in our relationship that followed and continues did I ever once think about your weight or eating habits or any of that.” He pulls me close and finally lets go of my hands to run his fingers down my arms,sending chills up my spine in the process.

“Because, I love you for what’s up here…”he presses a fingertip to my temple. “And for what’s in here.” And with that he presses his palm to my towel covered chest.

I crinkle my eyebrows, despite the warmth flooding through my heart. “My skull and my tits?” I ask teasingly.

He shakes his head,a small chuckle escaping him. “No you nerd. You’re mind and your heart. The heart that loves and cares for me when I’m alone and sad. The heart that sees through the sunshine persona I put on to the dark clouds. The mind that knows how to chase those clouds away. The mind that is clever and street smart and knows me like the back of your hand.”

He takes my hands again, bringing them to his lips and kissing them gently. “You’re MY hope. You’re MY angel. And nothing any of those haters and fake people can say is ever going to change that. You hear me?”

He cups my cheeks with his palms,bringing me closer. And his lips are on mine.

Soft

Warm

Home

The scent of mint on his breath tickles my nose,cool and reminding me for my currently...half dressed state.

“Thank you Hobi. Really I mean it. This…” I pause,glancing down at my lap before looking up at him again. “This won’t fix it. Or solve my problems. But...knowing that you’re here to support me means the world to me.”

“I’m not the only one you know.” He days with a chuckle as he helps me to my feet. “The boys have your back. And there are ARMY out there who love you too. Because we all see you for who you are. And the only one who should ever have the choice of changing that is you.”

He wraps me in his arms, holding me close as I rest my head on his chest. “ If you want to diet we’ll look up healthy lifestyle changes. If you want to work out or something like that I'll be right there by your side.”

“No matter what you decide though, do it for you. Not for me or for your family but for yourself.” He pulls back to lay a gentle kiss to my forehead. “I love you y/n. Please don’t forget that.”

And the tears are flowing again. Only this time it’s tears of joy. Because I know he loves me. Because Jung Hoseok has my back. Because BTS has my back. And because above all else, I’ve got my back.

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longsightmyth · 5 years

Text

Myth Reads The Naming, Chapter 19

This chapter is, at fourteen pages, technically the fourth shortest chapter in The Naming, but only because two chapters have thirteen pages. This means fewer Throne of Glass chapters, for which I am thankful.

PELLINOR

So Hem has had a pretty grim life, starting, as far as he knows, with his delivery to a really terrible orphanage by a hull. One day he was called up and told that his uncle had finally gotten back from wherever and was taking him home. His ‘uncle’ wasn’t great but he wasn’t awful either unless one takes into account the fact that there were five hulls around at all times.

Said hulls eventually tried to get him to commit human sacrifice but Hem wouldn’t do it, so they locked him in a room and starved him, which was when Sharn broke into the house to steal stuff and found a Pilanel boy locked in a room. Obviously, he busted him out. I’ll talk about that in the comparison.

So they ran, and eventually the hulls caught up to them. Hem told Sharn he heard them coming earlier, but Sharn didn’t believe him, so Hem hid. The hulls tortured Sharn, who for a while said they’d sold Hem but eventually broke down and admitted that he’d run away recently, and the hulls killed everybody anyway.

Which is, of course, when Maerad and Cadvan found Hem. Since Hem mentioned that Sharn also stole some stones, Cadvan asks to see them. Hem is curiously possessive of the medallion he wears, but when Cadvan has no interest in that he forks over the stones.

They are basically mini-palantir, I guess? They let people with the corresponding partner stone hear and sometimes see what’s going on. Thankfully Maerad’s magic fire blasts blanked them out, but we know why our heroes were so easy to find earlier. Cadvan tosses the stones away and jokingly forgives Hem for almost getting them killed.

Sometimes Cadvan has a questionable sense of humor, honestly.

Anyway, then he asks to see the medallion, and Hem reluctantly lets him, at which point Cadvan goes very quiet.

“What?” demanded Maerad, after the silence had lengthened unbearably. Hem was watching them both with a mixture of bafflement and despair.

Cadvan didn’t respond at first. “Maerad,” he said at last. “Do you remember your father very well?”

Oh yeah, folks. We’re going there. Cadvan further presses, asking if Maerad remembers what Dorn looked like, whether she actually saw her brother Cai killed or not, etc. The medallion has the symbol of Pellinor on it, and it says on the back in the speech, “The House of Karn. Minelm made me.”

Cadvan starts considering both of them and their physical similarities, and he and he concludes that they could be brother and sister. Hem is the right age, and the hulls kept him around for a reason, after all.

Maerad is less cautious, declaring that Hem is definitely her brother, she can feel it, that’s why she had to go find him, etc.

“...I remember Dorn, Maerad; and Hem is unmistakably Pilanel. It would explain why the hulls were interested in him. But I might be wrong.”

“You’re not often wrong,” said Maerad with a wry smile, echoing something he had said to her long ago in Innail.

“No.” Cadvan smiled very slightly. “I am not often wrong. Mind you, when I have been wrong, I’ve been very wrong indeed.”

Sometimes Cadvan’s humor is spot on, though.

Anyway, Cadvan surmises that the hulls knew about the prophecy but grabbed the wrong kid. He tells ‘you Pellinor folk’ to nap and he’ll keep watch, since he couldn’t sleep with his headache anyway. Maerad tries and can’t, remembering Cadvan on the ground and how she’d felt about killing things after.

Darsor returns about an hour after that, Imi in tow. After Darsor imparts some encouraging words for Maerad and Cadvan, Imi comes up and apologizes for running, and Maerad tells her it was good that she did. Cadvan further assures her that there is no shame in running from what are essentially demons.

They ride some more. I know you’re shocked.

The chapter ends when they crest a hill and can see Norloch.

THRONE OF GLASS

Thirteen pages in two chapters y’all I can do this.

Apparently Cain has been getting better not because he trains every day but because he summons dark powers. He calls out a ridderak. I’m sure the ridderak has actually been mentioned before but honestly I can’t be bothered to check right now.

It was something out of an ancient god’s nightmares. Its hairless gray skin was stretched tightly across its misshapen head, displaying a gaping mouth full of black fangs.

Fangs that had ripped out and eaten Verin and Xavier’s internal organs; fangs that had feasted on their brains. Its vaguely human body sank onto its haunches, and it sl;id its long front arms across the stone floor. The stones whined under the claws. Cain raised his head and stood slowly ad the creature knelt before him and lowered its dark eyes. Submission.

I’m not saying that there was a perfectly good place to use Sarah Janet’s trademark ‘those’ instead of ‘the’ in there, but I’m not not saying it either. Also, I still don’t remember which serial killer was which in regards to Verin and Xavier. I forgot Xavier existed, so.

Anyway, Cain says it wasn’t supposed to be Celaena tonight but she’s who he’s got, so Celaena whimpers at him and draws her absolutely useless knife monstrosity, which Cain promptly relieves her of on his way out the door. Honestly, good riddance.

Celaena screams a lot and eventually runs through the secret passages, eventually making it to Elena and Gavin’s tomb, where she snags Damaris, which is a sword that becomes sort of important later. I mean, kinda. Look, I don’t know, sometimes in Kingdom of Ash Dorian uses it to find out if people are telling really obvious lies because Sarah Janet decided she needed a sword of truth up in here in the last book.

Anyway, she kills the ridderak, marking the first time Celaena has won a fight on-page and unassisted, I think, but it bit her along the way. She walks back to her rooms and then collapses, suddenly overcome by the venom. Nehemia finds her and does something and Celaena falls fully unconcious while being rocked gently by Nehemia in a bathtub.

I’m not saying you should ship it, but like. **makes Will Smith present-y hands**

Anyway, that’s the end of chapter 42. Next chapter.

Celaena wakes up to see Nehemia waiting in a chair by her bedside. It has only been three hours, but Celaena feels entirely healed. After some prodding from Nehemia, Celaena confesses her true identity (of course we (and actually Nehemia, come to think of it) are, per later book retcons, aware that it isn’t actually her true identity. More on that in the discussion). Nehemia is upset that Celaena didn’t tell her, but eventually says that Celaena is impressive because,

“...you did not let the mines harden you; you did not let it shame your soul into cruelty.”

Methinks Nehemia speaks more out of hope than actual evidence, because Celaena is a petty, cruel brat who thinks only of murder and her own self-interest at the moment who upgrades to thinking of conquering other nations ‘to spread culture’ later. Nehemia also names her ‘Elentiya’, which means ‘spirit that could not be broken.’ We all loved Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron, Sarah Janet, I get it. Possibly Nehemia is operating on the assumption that naming a thing determines the character of the thing. Sorry, Nehemia, I know you tried.

Celaena decides to tell Nehemia how she ended up as Adarlan’s Assassin when Nehemia asks, and that’s how we end the section but not the chapter.

Celaena admits next section that she didn’t tell Nehemia everything, because we must still Not Know that Celaena is actually a princess. We have to Not Know very hard at this point, because that’s just the kind of book Throne of Glass is. Also Celaena refused to tell Nehemia about what bit her, so basically everything is pointless.

Chaol needles her about dancing with Dorian, Celaena reflects that she killed the ridderak so the darkness is lifted from the castle, I despair.

Later they spar, and Chaol says he saw her reading poetry, which he thought she didn’t like. She says epic poetry is different because it’s not pretentious. As a fellow hater of poetry, I have to say that I agree, re: enjoyment but must note that it is Celaena who comes off as pretentious here. Anyway they round a corner and she sees the unnamed King of Adarlan and it’s presented as a dramatic reveal but like. You live in his castle, Celaena. He’s a public figure. He’s going to be around.

COMPARISON

Celaena remains a bratty twelve-year old confident in her abilities until faced with anything that might make her prove them. What else is new.

Well. I guess the idiot ball got bigger. The dude who summoned the monster is still out and about but sure the darkness in the castle has been defeated. That makes sense. (Celaena does nothing without being shoved into it, by the way: she has to be sent places by Elena, who she doesn’t ask for help, she has to be shown with actual glowing neon signs the monster that eats things, and then she has to be locked in the catacombs with it to fight it? Y’all. If she wants to rule a country later she should really display some initiative.)

Meanwhile Maerad and Hem/Cai get to be brother and sister, and since names are inherently tied into the narrative by way of bardic names already being important to the story, the fact that Hem will continue throughout the series to prefer being called Hem over Cai is an interesting twist on the later Celaena, who thinks that because she tells everybody to call her Aelin she’s an entirely different person.

Also of note is that both chapters contain human sacrifice, though Hem says that he wouldn’t kill the other boy with so little fanfare that it rounds the corner into having us go duh. I mean that in a good way: it is presented as so much the common-sense choice that it lets us the readers understand a core component of Hem. He can’t be evil. He refuses to be evil. As a child who grew up hungry and starved, he still refused to kill somebody despite the threat and implementation of starvation. The narrative doesn’t wax rhapsodic about it, either. It’s just who Hem is.

Similarly, no one waxes rhapsodic about Sharn, though I might here for a moment. Here’s a guy who broke into a lord’s house to steal valuables, found a starved little boy in a room, and said, ‘okay there is no way I’m leaving this kid here’ and stole him from evil magicians. Pellinor has a mindset and purpose of execution similar to Lord of the Rings: small, kind actions eventually cascade into larger, world-saving actions. Sometimes small good deeds are all you can do, but that’s okay. Small good deeds lead to more small good deeds and eventually the scales tip.

That only works, though, when small good deeds are the only good deeds available to you. Celaena giving Kaltain a cloak in Crown of Midnight, for instance, doesn’t tip the scales much, because Celaena is capable of so much more, and has shown it by faking the deaths of all of the (male, for the record) targets given to her by the king and helping them make their escape. That she chooses to only give Kaltain a cloak, when she is completely aware that Kaltain is regularly raped by both the guards and Perrington, when Kaltain has been consistently wronged by the same people as Celaena, is more of an example of performative compassion instead of, like, actual help. I’m just saying. Further, the whole reverent ‘she gave Ansel one extra minute before shooting at her’ is nonsense. She should have just not shot at Ansel. That would have been an act of compassion. Nobody was holding her to it. There wasn’t any sort of magical compulsion. Celaena performs the most tepid of merciful acts, and the book portrays them as Glorious Acts of Defiance and everyone is in awe over her forgiving nature. She says she doesn’t believe in slavery but never bothers to condemn it in any stronger language. I’m tired of it. I’ve been tired of it. Comparing it to The Books of Pellinor just makes me more tired of it.

In short, I despair.

STATS

Throne of Glass:

Pages: 13

Fragments: 14

Em-Dashes: 34

Ellipses: 7

Pellinor:

Pages: 14

Fragments: 6

Em-Dashes: 4

Ellipses: 12

#myth reads the naming #myth reads the books of Pellinor #myth rags on throne of glass #myth talks

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akaluan-dark · 6 years

Text

A Token, My Liege? Pt3

((Posting this piece here because I want to make sure the read more works consistently on this one.

Warnings:

Bullying -- name calling, implications of sexual favors for privileges, hints of potential steep escalation in the near future

Things will likely get a lot lighter in the next segments. Honestly from this point on everything is mostly focused on Uryuu’s life getting better. I mean, there will still be a bit here and there, but mostly Ichigo comes down heavy on everyone involved and most of the worst of the lot get scattered to distant parts of the kingdom.))

Ichigo holds his magic in close, exactly how Hat’n’Clogs taught him years ago, and moves with careful steps through the knights’ hall. He’s invisible, but neither intangible nor soundless — Shiro’s never been interested in learning the finer points of illusion and sensory-deception magic, and Ichigo has even less of an aptitude than his twin.

So he keeps to the walls and strains his hearing, moving between conversations and trying to find any hint of the rot that apparently exists.

He thinks he knows how he could have missed it for so long; almost everything he’s overhearing is innocent, just common chatter that he’s heard time and time again. Except here and there…

“—can’t wait to see him get his—” “—he’s a loner, that’s reason enough—” “—fault if he gets separated—”

Ichigo scowls and tries to determine if whatever he’s overhearing is trouble or he’s just reading into things. If it /is/ trouble, he doesn’t like where it’s leading; with a war on the horizon and deployment inevitable, talk about loners and being separated leads his mind down a dark path that he’d rather not tread.

(But that’s not enough to go on.)

(He hates sneaking around like this.)

He circles the room again and closes in, wending his way through the tables and straining to pick out the different threads of conversation going on all around him. He scans expressions as he moves, looking for something, /anything/ obvious, and knowing he isn’t going to find it.

“—mag-null, right?—” “—say we didn’t know—” “—sounds good, let’s—”

Ichigo freezes the instant he hears ‘mag-null’ and tilts his head, turning in a slow circle and trying to find the source. He spots one of his knights sporting an uncertain look, and steps closer to the table the man is at.

(That’s not language he has /ever/ approved of.)

(Mag-null. Someone born without magic. Someone of /lesser value/ because of it.)

(He despises the word and the intent behind it.)

“—should be easy enough,” another knight is saying, her hand waving absently. “He likes solo missions, right? And the commanders are always giving them to him.”

A second knight scoffs and pushes aside his empty bowl, then sets his elbow on the table and props his chin on his hand. “It’s about the only way a mag-null like him can get any missions, solos like those.”

“Mag-null or not, who’d want to work with /him/?” a third asks incredulously, gesturing about with her spoon before digging it back into her food. “He’s insufferable enough around the castle, constantly showing off. I’d hate to imagine what he’s like in the field.” She gives the whole table a look, and Ichigo is disgusted to see every knight there nodding in agreement, even the ones who are only listening.

(Even if this isn’t about Ishida Uryuu, Ichigo isn’t about to let talk like this slide.)

“I dunno,” the second knight says with annoyance. “His superiors seem to like him. He only has to ask, and off he trots on a solo.”

The first snorts and shakes her head. “Kenta, you poor, innocent soul.” At the man’s frown, she leans forward with a wicked smirk and says in a low tone, “There’s a /reason/ his superiors like him, and it’s certainly not his attitude.”

Ichigo bites his lip hard enough to taste blood when one of the other knights snickers and makes a lewd gesture. He’s had more than enough of this conversation, even if he doesn’t know for sure who they’re talking about. But if he lingers here any longer, he’s going to be too tempted to just… start bashing heads together and pitching everyone involved out of the knighthood.

But Shiro’s right, they don’t know how far this goes, or how many people are involved. So instead, Ichigo turns to memorizing each knight’s insignia; he’s never been able to put names to faces reliably, but he’s found ways around that as he grew older.

Like the insignia, unique for every knight under his command, and attached to a dossier he keeps in his office. He’ll be able to make a list of /everyone/ in this conversation, and he’ll make sure to mark the apparent ringleaders.

Halfway through memorizing the insignia, though, one of the knights makes an excited noise and stands. There’s a cruel gleam in his eyes, and his smile is less than friendly as he waves at someone walking through the door.

“Hey, Ishida!” the knight calls out, then narrows his eyes when the newcomer doesn’t turn to acknowledge him. “Hey! I’m talking to you!”

Ichigo frowns and scans the rest of the hall, taking in the way the other tables have quieted down a bit, and the way some knights are hunching forward. None of them are speaking up, though, not even the ones that appear unaffected by the call-out. They’re all studiously ignoring what’s going on, except for a few covert glances.

(How did he /miss this/? How long has this behavior been going on under his nose?)

The standing knight growls in frustration and leans forward, resting his hands on the table. “Well, if you want to sit by yourself, be my guest,” he drawls. “I was only going to invite you to sit with us, since everywhere else is full.”

“Are you certain you don’t require glasses, Faran?” Ishida asks, tone dry as dust. He gestures at the tables around him, many of which have at least a bit of room, then shrugs and turns away. He starts to make his way towards one of the nearly empty tables in the back, throwing over his shoulder, “Perhaps you should look into that. The battlefield is no place for poor vision.”

The first knight barks a laugh, her smile sharp. “Speaking from experience, Ishida? Is that why you’re always taking solo missions, because you don’t want to look helpless in front of your peers when the enemy knocks your glasses off?”

“You should let us help,” Kenta pipes up, voice heavy with fake sympathy. He flashes Ishida an insincere smile when he freezes and turns back, and continues, “There’s no shame in weakness, after all. That’s what we’re here for, to help.”

Ichigo swallows his disgust at the words, and hastily finishes memorizing the insignias of the knights at the table. Forget listening further, he needs to leave and return openly, before the darkness he can see in Ishida’s eyes turns into something /worse/.

(No wonder Urahara decided to work around his promise at last.)

“Your help?” Ishida repeats, lips curling up to expose the tips of his teeth, disdain in every line of his body. “And what help would that be, Matsunu? If it’s your usual brand, I feel the need to warn you that Swallow takes… poorly to those she believes are threatening me.”

“That old nag? I don’t see why you still ride her, Ishida,” the first knight says with a scoff. “Just because your mother gave her to you as a child, doesn’t mean you should still be forcing her into battle. All she does all day is sleep in the stable.”

Ishida gives the knight a blank look, then glances at the others around the table, looking for something that he clearly doesn’t find. His shoulders slump a bit, and he pinches the bridge of his nose, saying, “If you want to be that blind, be my guest, please. Keep proving to me you’re all failures as knights.”

“Damn mag-null,” Kenta mutters darkly, then bares his teeth at Ishida in a pretense of a smile. “Failures, are we?” he asks while rising to his feet, one hand settling over the pommel of his sword. “I think it’s the opposite, isn’t it? At least we’re capable of working as a team and supporting one another. All a mag-null bow knight like you is good for is getting into trouble and being shot down by a mage.”

(’Shot down’?)

(Ichigo doesn’t have any aerial knights under his command…)

Ishida stalks closer, chin tilting up and expression a blank mask hiding a fury that Ichigo can nearly feel. The sight makes Ichigo stiffen and cast a confused look at the group of knights; he /knows/ that expression, that look of leashed fury, and it’s enough for his mind to finally link faces to positions to /names/.

Ishida Ryuuken is one of the strongest War Priests that Ichigo has ever met. For his /son/ to lack magic beggars belief; magic doesn’t simply /die out/ in a single generation. It dwindles, lingering in the bloodline for generations and providing skills and abilities that those without a drop of magic cannot duplicate.

(So who taught Ishida Uryuu to hide himself so thoroughly and consistently?)

(And what does Ishida’s dossier say about his ability — or lack thereof — with magic?)

Ichigo shakes his head and digs his nails into his palms, trying to clear his mind. It doesn’t matter who taught Ishida what, not now. Not when he can almost taste the coming violence.

(He wonders if intervening now is too little, too late. If there’s anything of Ishida’s loyalty /left/ after who knows how many years of torment.)

(Torment that Ichigo has been blind to the entire time.)

He can’t afford to think like that, though. Not now and not ever. The only thing he can do is try, and right now ‘trying’ means breaking the coming violence up before it begins.

Ichigo hurries out, keeping his steps as silent as he can, and slips into a hidden passage. Everyone knows that there are hidden passages in the castle, and everyone /knows/ that the passages are shielded against people sensing those within them.

Ichigo strips Shiro’s spell from his body, allows his magic to unfurl from his core, and breathes a sigh of relief.

(He hates hiding. Hates restraining his power so thoroughly. But needs must.)

Then, squaring his shoulders and gathering himself, Ichigo strides from the hidden passage and towards the knight’s hall.

He has a fight to stop and a group of knights to examine carefully.

Maybe he’ll even figure out why he’s missed this mess for so long.

#bleach #my fic #drabbles #unedited #ishida uryuu #Kurosaki Ichigo #random knights #for anyone curious #the 'shot down' comment thrown at uryuu is directly related to how his mother died #so yes they're also implying that his mother was magicless #and that all he's good for is dying like his commoner mother #(despite the fact that she was a decently high ranked pegasus rider #in FE terms she was a falcon knight #)#and yeah she had magic too

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shadowolven · 6 years

Text

A Poem from Me to You

(AO3 link here!)

I find that the words that fascinate me the most are the ones that you speak.

They are melodious to my ears, soothing any anxieties and hesitance that I may have.

While to some I may sound like a fool, to myself I am in awe at the things you do to me.

I have admired you from afar so long now, but perhaps, if you are willing...

You’ll accept my bleeding heart?

His fountain pen lingered atop the parchment paper, the black ink seeping out into small edges radiating from the dot of the question mark with every passing beat of his quickened heart.

This was wrong. So terribly, terribly wrong.

The assignment was to write a poem for his English class, but before he knew it he wrote a confession letter instead. Let alone it didn’t even seem very poetic in his eyes.

Izuku sighed, throwing his palm onto his face as he set the fountain pen delicately beside the inked parchment paper. He couldn’t believe he even wrote this much in the first place. Sure, he had a poor habit of mumbling out streams of consciousness, but that’s verbal. That was easy to forget you were even doing.

But writing? Writing required thought from the brain into his fingers, into every movement of his wrist as he watched with his own eyes the letters that poured out in its black inkiness onto the faded yellow sheet of paper. Not only did he watch every stroke in every letter he wrote out, but he watched as those letters formed words which then formed complete, coherent sentences.

And he wrote it all without hesitating, without stopping and scratching any of it out. It was like he needed to get it off his chest, to expel it out of his brain before it poisoned the rest of his thoughts in a negative pool of stupid pining over his childhood friend who, undoubtedly, showed no returned interest that he could detect.

Izuku groaned, shoving the paper out of his way as he buried his head in his arms.

Why was he like this?

He certainly can’t turn in this filth to Present Mic tomorrow. No, that wouldn’t do. If he had to read it out loud in front of all his classmates, he would rather 100% One for All himself into dust right then and there.

Izuku peeked out over the top of his arm and through his messy curls, staring at the parchment paper, still unsigned. He grumbled, sitting upright as he gingerly took the thick paper into his hands. Then, with a pained hesitation, he crumpled it up and threw it into the trash beside his table.

It’s fine. It’s not the end of the world. He had time to write a new poem—one that isn’t a confession—before class tomorrow. Yeah sure, it was past midnight, but he can make time if he needs to. It’d still be better than turning in a confession letter.

With tired but renewed determination, he picked up his fountain pen and began scribbling furiously onto a new sheet of parchment paper.

--------

It’s been three days since he turned in his poem. It wasn’t anything special or anything, just about the cherry blossoms and how it made him feel. Some standard stuff, he’d say, because he wasn’t the only one who wrote about them it seemed.

He flopped onto his bed, tired from a long day of classes. Reciting their poems in front of the entire class was nerve-wracking since many (including himself) felt embarrassed about revealing their inner “poetic” thoughts to their fellow classmates. But it was also beautiful, because hearing others’ more private and deep thoughts were honestly such an eye-opener. Kouda, for instance, had the most wonderful poem about his experience with nature and animals and his growth so far, and Izuku would be lying if he said he wasn’t moved to tears by it.

Overall, today was an emotional adventure, but Izuku enjoyed every second of it. Especially Kacchan’s poem, even if it was surprisingly childish and basic at its core.

Izuku smiled to himself. He should go write his newfound appreciation for his classmates into his hero journals...

A loud knocking on his door jolted Izuku out of his thoughts. “Open up, shitty nerd!”

Speak of the devil...

“Coming, Kacchan,” Izuku rolled off his bed with a sigh, taking a few quick deep breaths to steady his beating heart as he unlatched his door and opened it up. “What’s wrong?”

“Your trash not being outside your door is what’s wrong. Now hurry up and give me your shit,” Katsuki said with a scowl as he motioned with his half-filled trash bag towards Izuku.

“Oh, right,” Izuku said, picking up his trash can and bringing it towards Katsuki. “Thank you.” He tilted the mouth of the basket towards the open bag when Katsuki snatched it out of his hands. Izuku blinked, confused. “Wha—?”

“What do we got here, hmm?” Katsuki said with a devilish smirk on his face, the trash bag fell onto the ground with a “fwump” as he fished something out of Izuku’s trash bin. Out he took a crumpled up piece of parchment paper. “Is this a failed draft?”

Izuku instantly turned red and flustered, scrambling towards Katsuki with flailing arms. “Ka-Kacchan, wait, what do you think you’re doing going through people’s stuff like that?!”

Katsuki grinned, his hand held above his head at a length that Izuku’s natural height couldn’t reach. Not like he was going to give Izuku a chance at stealing it back, not when he was curious to a fault. “I don’t see why it’s a problem, you were just going to throw it out anyway, weren’t you?”

“That’s not the issue! Give it back!” Izuku jumped, but Katsuki shoved him roughly away with a sweaty palm to the face.

“You really want it back after you were going to chuck it out without a second thought?” Katsuki laughed, unfurling the crumpled page. “’One man’s trash is another man’s treasure,’ isn’t that how the saying goes?”

“Kacchan, please, whatever you do, don’t read that!” Izuku begged, his face beet-red as he tried one last time to swipe at his embarrassing letter.

“Oh c’mon, it can’t be that bad of a draft,” Katsuki said, scoffing at Izuku’s overly-the-top reaction. “Here, if it helps, I’ll show you my failed draft too. Now let’s see...” His eyes scanned the inked paper.

“No!” Izuku’s body lit with green sparks as he dove towards Katsuki, determined to take that paper and shred it before it was too late.

But Katsuki was ready. With a small blast from his free palm, he pushed himself out of danger while leaving behind a cloud of black smoke to temporarily distract Izuku as he continued to read.

“Kacchan!” Izuku practically screamed as he pushed himself off the opposing wall, tackling Katsuki onto the ground. As he wrenched the paper free from Katsuki’s hands, tearing it into pieces in a quick second, he realized that the blonde below him was strangely quiet.

He glanced up, and the pieces of parchment that were in his clenched palms fluttered down onto his body and on the ground below. Katsuki’s face was of an expression that Izuku hadn’t seen on his friend in... well, ever.

Cheeks a warm pink glow, ruby eyes surprisingly soft despite his furrowed brows, lips pulled back in a half-snarl. “You...” Katsuki grunted out.

“You read it?” Izuku squeaked.

“You wrote that for me, didn’t you?”

Izuku’s heart skipped a beat. He hated how perceptive Katsuki was. But at the same time...

Perhaps this was what he needed. To get it off his chest and take the consequences as they came.

“... Yes.”

Katsuki fell back down onto his back, arm over his face as he groaned. “You idiot...”

“... Do you hate me now?”

Katsuki lifted himself up on his elbows, staring into Izuku’s eyes with a determined glint. “No,” he said.

Izuku pursed his lips, his heart rate increasing. His chest still felt tight as he managed to whisper a hesitant, “Then?...”

“I guess now’s a good time as ever... Here, a deal’s a deal,” Katsuki said, pushing Izuku off of him as he fished around in his back pocket for a few seconds. Once he found it, he presented Izuku a folded piece of paper, singed around the edges. “Just... read it. Okay?”

Izuku took the paper into his trembling hands, staring at it and back at Katsuki’s reddening face. He didn’t understand what this was about. What was going on?

But he opened up the piece of paper, careful not to touch the delicate burnt edges.

For as long as I could remember, you were there.

Behind me, a follower trailing in my wake, an admirer from afar,

Until the sands of time made it clear as air,

That your company, unwelcome at first, became a presence I no longer want to bar.

Through pain and grief I have given you,

Only to find that they were misconceptions fabricated in my mind.

Forgiveness is ideal if we can redo,

But a part of me desires more than what I have defined.

So with heavy feelings I ask,

If I gave you the key to my soul, would you take it?

“It’s shitty, I know,” Katsuki said, his voice quiet and self-deprecating. “Too cheesy and shitty attempts at rhym—”

Izuku hugged him, tight. Tears stung his eyes as he buried himself into Katsuki’s shoulder, his voice fighting back choked sobs, “I love it. Kacchan, I love it so much.”

Katsuki fell silent. With hesitance, he, too, put his arms around Izuku. “So is that...?”

“Yes, Kacchan,” Izuku said, sniffling. “If you’ll take my bleeding heart, I accept.”

#bakudeku #bkdk #katsudeku #izukatsu #bnha #mha #kacchan #deku #i can't write poems for shit so plz dont look at my poems too much okAY #i wrote this on a whim as i usually do so JUST HHH TAKE IT OK #shadowolven writes #fanfic #drabble

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shallanspren · 6 years

Text

okokok i’m home and can finally type some things out. but holy shit the philip company’s last show in vegas was fucking wild!

first off, the smith center is nice as hell, i would’ve never thought las vegas capable of producing a building that looks nice and actually is, but here we are. i don’t think any seat in that house could ever be considered bad. it was a lot warmer than the eccles theater too, which was nice because my feat were not freezing off my body.

idk if it was this way for everyone, but from where i was sitting, there were parts in the show where the acoustics made me feel as though the ensemble were signing right in my ear. the first time it happened was during my shot when the ensemble joins in with “whoa whoa who-a, who-a, who-a, yeah!” it was like someone turned up the mics on everyone because the volume seemed to double, it shook me to my core and it made the song so much more epic. it made a lot of the big numbers so much better honestly. the audience was a lil sleepy at some points, but people came alive for the cabinet battles. they were fucking here for them. i loved it.

jen sese is the mvp of the night. she started the show on the peggy track since nyla called out and emily is currently in california. she was fun as peggy from what i got to see. at the beginning of right hand man though, ta’rea was not on stage at the beginning. at first i thought she’d missed her cue, but she wasn’t on stage for any of that number. so my mind was going, “she’s sick so jen is gonna have to change to angelica’s track an they’ll have the ensemble lady who only knows the peggy/maria track take over.” i was half right. jen had all of thirty seconds to change from her peggy dress to the angelica one for helpless/satisfied. she wasn’t on stage for any of winter’s ball because of the hella fast change, but joseph and kyle handled her not being there like champs, nobody who has never seen the show would’ve picked up on there being a missing person there.

jen’s satisfied so so good you guys. so good. like. i thought emmy was articulate there, but i don’t think i’ve heard anyone with better diction than jen there. i understood everything, it was like she’d been in that role forever, and she actually made me get emotional for angelica’s sake in that number which hardly ever happens, so she’s now up there as one of my favorite angelicas. she stayed on the angelica track for the rest of act 1 while nobody was on peggy’s.

turns out ta’rea was suffering from heat exhaustion or something and needed a break, because she was back on for angelica for all of act 2 and jen went on to slay as maria. seriously, jen had a wild and good night. i’m blown away by her talent.

joseph morales is always a delight but his energy was everywhere tonight. his intensity was so much more this time around and he knew exactly how to direct it. he struggled a bit in the opening number (staying too long by shoba after she put on his jacket, he had to breeze past ta’rea and snatch his backpack from elijah super fast. but then he got up the stairs too the surround too fast and was chilling at the top of the stairs for a while before it was lowered) but he got everything where it needed to be from then on. it was so fucking hard to take my eyes off him the whole show.

shoba found a way to take eliza to a whole other level oh my god. there was more spunk, more fire. there was a rawness to her burn that made me start to cry. when she lit the first letter on fire, she held it for longer than usual, seriously letting the flames consume most of the pages before she dropped it in with such vindictiveness. and the way she grabs onto elijah in the stay alive reprise broke me. philip dies, and she moved forward to his face as though she were trying to stop his soul before it left her son’s body. it was agonizing and the guy two seats down from me had tears running down his face, constantly wiping them away the rest of the show. she looked completely dead inside at the end of the world was wide enough but comes in for the finale with such determination. a minor line flub where she said, “will they tell your story” instead of “our” but she got the “will they tell my story” line right, which is more important to get anyway. and like emily, she did a lil shiver as ham passes by her, like she could feel him just beyond the veil. when she finally sees him, she looks like she’s dreaming and she stays still a lil longer than normal and joseph held out his hands with this big huge grin on his face and she rushed towards him. i died. it was perfect.

speaking of perfect, joseph and shoba really took their hamliza to a whole other level this show. i believed them to be a married couple before, but they’ve really stepped it up a notch. joseph could hardly take his eyes off her during helpless, and when shoba was center stage, the women dancing around her, she kept looking at joseph over her shoulder, so obviously flirting with him. i was here for it. joseph was here for it, jen’s angelica was here for it. everyone was here for this union in the making. the most beautiful moment came during it’s quiet uptown though. after eliza takes ham’s hand, there is usually a moment where ham kisses her hand. but i think joseph was just kinda lost in the emotion of the whole number and just kept staring at shoba. and she fucking kissed his hand and put her other hand over top of his. i almost died. these two understand the story they’re telling.

nik walker was more enjoyable this time (though i was bummed he didn’t call out lmao). he toned down some of the things i found super annoying the last two times, and the end of his twwwe was perfection. he still had some of that cartoon-y villain type shit going on, but it wasn’t as much this time so thank god.

finally got to see kyle to his full laf/jefferson track. i’m not actually sure if i like him or king better?? they’re both so good in the role for different reasons. kyle has a little more subtlety and he works better with fergie’s madison for sure. the two of them played off each other so well. and elijah was a delight as always. he’s my second favorite john/philip and he delivered as always tonight. i always love seeing him in the reynold’s pamphlet?? like it’s such a small bit, but he nails it so well. i love him. i love this cast.

#jen sese #Joseph Morales #Shoba Narayan #philip company #hamilton #kelsey sees hamilton again #honestly i enjoyed so much about this show #i'm a mess tbh #this cast is absolute perfection

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skeletorific · 7 years

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What soul type(s) do you think the UT,UF, US, and SF bros are most attracted to?

So this is one of my more recent asks and not exactly halloween themed but damn it all @nighttimepixels released SOUL REDACTED (GO PLAY RIGHT NOW) and it got me thinking about soul types so I figured I may as well make those some productive thoughts

Keep in mind this doesn’t mean they would only be attracted to a person of this soul type. Soul types are a broad category and there is a lot of variation of personality within each category. But for each of them I’ve chosen the type that in the most general sense would likely peak their interest

UT!Sans: Oddly enough I kind of struggled with Sans. Maybe it speaks to the versatility of his character but I couldn’t totally see him being innately drawn to any particular SOUL type. However, I think when pressed he tends to be drawn to Justice and Kindness types. Sans deals with too many shades of grey, too many incomprehensible beings and timelines splitting, fracturing, all uniting in a single person that he can only trust. He wants something….simple. Someone who can just live their life. See things in terms of black and white, who can spend time thinking about ways to make others smile. He wants someone he can just come home to at the end of the day, take a nap with, and forget everything making him an old man prematurely.

UT!Papyrus: Personally, I see Papyrus as being drawn to the Perseverance SOUL. This circles back to one simple thing: at heart, Papyrus is a puzzle maker and needs a puzzle solver. He needs someone willing to follow his crazy antics, his complex japes, and his fits of bombast to the very end, so that they can be rewarded with his kind nature and dedication on the other side. In the end, what you need to solve any puzzle is perseverance. You need to be willing to keep chipping away at something until you find the right angle or answer. He has an inherent admiration to anyone who can keep going and going, no matter what deters them, especially when they can do it with a smile on his face. It serves as a good compliment to his hardworking personality while also adding some much needed grounding.

UF!Sans:……..Patience (boos and calls of “self-indulgent!” echo from the audience) Hey, hey! Hear me out. For the record, I debated between this and kindness for a really long time. In fact, I’d go so far as to say he splits about even. He needs a little kindness with his background. But Red, for all his laziness, doesn’t have much patience. When he wants something, he’s not good at letting it come to him. He’ll find shortcuts, tinker, try new angles….or give up. There’s not a lot he holds out for, even most relationships. What he needs is someone willing to wait on him. Who can let him open up at his own pace, accept him as he is and not ask for more than he’s willing to give. Given his temper he’s got a quiet awe for people who are just….able to put up with those around them. Keep calm in the face of overwhelming frustration. It can get a little toxic, with it feeding into his own passivity, but overall it gives him a certain calm he’s been lacking his entire damn life.

UF!Papyrus: Kindness. Again, I went back and forth on swapping the Fell bros traits given that I think they could honestly do with both. But in the case of Boss I feel like Kindness is not only something he’s lacking its something far enough out of his personality range that it has this exotic allure to it. Opposites attract, and all that. Part of it is you’d have to be Mother fucking Theresa to put up with him in the early days. But the other part is that Boss is always fascinated by people who give of themselves for the benefits of others. Its not that he’s never done anything kind, hell, he does a lot that falls under that category, but he’s never been comfortable being open about it. He doesn’t know how to present it without either being kind of a dick about it or a total tsundere. Someone who is just….able be that selfless, to reach out and help others like its their calling…..its his craving and his ideal. He wants to be around that as much as he can. Even if it takes him forever to admit it.

US!Sans: Bravery. One thing dating Blue will never be is boring. His goal is to have as many experiences as he possibly can, and outings with him are not for the faint of heart, considering they encompass everything from cliff jumping to eating roast guinea pigs. Alright moving past stereotypes, Blue is drawn to people with intense courage, people who charge ahead to explore new areas. Because he wants to be right there beside them. Blue wants a partner, a playmate and a sparring partner on some level.

US!Papyrus: For a guy with a laissez-faire attitude towards the truth and hard work, he’s got a weird draw towards Integrity SOULs. Stretch doesn’t really stick to much. He’s got a few basic principles and for the rest, anything goes. He’ll pick what’s convenient, what’s simple, what’s fun. While people with too many FIRM principles can sometimes get on his nerve (*cough* Edge *cough*), its a quality he respects. Stretch has a responsible side, deep down. Mostly towards Blue, but in the end he has an inner moral compass that he’ll rarely, if ever, deviate from, and he appreciates partners who have something similar. How you live your life is up to you, but you should at least be straightforward about it.

SF!Sans: DETERMINATION. Yeah, kind of surprised I got this far without it too. SF!Sans and UF!Papyrus have very similar personalities, but they differ vastly in what they want in a partner. UF!Papyrus wants a yin to his yang, some sweetness to balance out his salt. Black (at least deep down) is more drawn to partners with a will to match his own. Not to say he enjoys being challenged. He wants an ally, not an enemy. But Black appreciates ambition and those with the will to take what they want. Determined SOULs, no matter the cost, will pursue their own wills, and use practically any means to do it. If at all possible he wants to find one with identical goals to his, but if not he is excited to support his partner in their future domination endeavours over their world and their peers.

SF!Papyrus: Justice. Like Stretch, Rus has a pretty strong sense of right and wrong, and his core principle is that people should get what they have coming to them. Out of all the lazybones he’s probably the least Merciful and takes most naturally to his role of judge. Rus is not heartless, and definitely not single minded. Hell, he’s let Sans get away with murder. But he keeps the score. He knows what he owes, and he pays back in full. He in particular appreciates partners who stick up for those who can’t defend themselves. While it stresses the hell out of him to watch, it says something very powerful about his partner. That they are willing to uphold their values and stand by the consequences. He can’t stand someone who takes advantage of helpless things, even if he can’t always do something about it. Unusual for a Fell monster, he’s got honor, and appreciates a partner with the same

#undertale #underfell #underswap #swapfell #sans #papyrus #uf!sans #uf!papyrus #us!sans #us!papyrus #sf!sans #sf!papyrus #soul types #headcanon

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