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canmom · 3 months

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VR observations, 10 months in

I've been a game dev for 10 months now. It's pretty great, I'm enjoying it a lot, I get to spend my days doing crazy shader shit and animations and voxels and visual effects. Hopefully the game that will come out of all this will be one people enjoy, and in any case I'm learning so much that will eventually come back to the personal ~artistic~ side of things. I can't talk about that game just yet though (but soon it will be announced, I'm pretty sure). So this is a post about other games.

Mind you, I don't actually play very many VR games, or games in general these days, because I'm too busy developing the dang things. but sometimes I do! And I think it's interesting to talk about them.

These aren't really reviews as such. You could project all sorts of ulterior motives if it was. Like my livelihood does sorta depend on people buying VR headsets and then games on them. This is more just like things I observe.

Headsets

The biggest problem with VR at the moment is wearing a headset for too long kinda sucks. The weight of the headset is all effectively held on a lever arm and it presses on your face. However, this is heavily dependent on the strap you use to hold it to your head. A better balanced and cushioned strap can hold the headset still with less pressure and better balance the forces.

The strap that comes with the Quest 3 is absolute dogshit. So a big part of the reason I wouldn't play VR games for fun is because after wearing the headset for 30-60 minutes in the daily meeting, the absolute last thing I'd want to do is wear it any longer. Recently I got a new strap (a ~£25 Devaso one, the low end of straps), and it's markedly improved. It would probably be even better if I got one of the high end Bobo straps. So please take it from me: if you wanna get into VR, get a decent strap.

I hear the Apple Vision Pro is a lot more comfortable to wear for long periods, though I won't have a chance to try it until later this month.

During the time I've been working at Holonautic, Meta released their Quest 3, and more recently Apple released their hyper expensive Vision Pro for much fanfare.

The Quest 3 is a decent headset and probably the one I'd recommend if you're getting into VR and can afford a new console. It's not a massive improvement over the Quest 2 - the main thing that's better is the 'passthrough' (aka 'augmented reality', the mode where the 3D objects are composited into video of what's in front of you), which is now in full colour, and feels a lot less intrusive than the blown out greyscale that the Quest 2 did. But it still has some trouble with properly taking into account depth when combining the feeds from multiple cameras, so you get weird space warping effects when something in the foreground moves over something in the background.

The Vision Pro is by all accounts the bees knees, though it costs $3500 and already sold out, so good luck getting one. It brings a new interaction mode based on eye tracking, where you look at a thing with your eyes to select it like with a mouse pointer, and hold your hands in your lap and pinch to interact. Its passthrough is apparently miles ahead, it's got a laptop tier chip, etc etc. I'm not gonna talk about that though, if you want to read product reviews there are a million places you can do it.

Instead I wanna talk about rendering, since I think this is something that only gets discussed among devs, and maybe people outside might be interested.

Right now there is only one game engine that builds to the Vision Pro, which is Unity. However, Apple have their own graphics API, and the PolySpatial API used for the mixed reality mode is pretty heavily locked down in terms of what you can do.

So what Unity does is essentially run a transpilation step to map its own constructs into PolySpatial ones. For example, say you make a shader in Shader Graph (you have to use shader graph, it won't take HLSL shaders in general) - Unity will generate a vision pro compatible shader (in MaterialX format) from that. Vertex and fragment shaders mostly work, particle systems mostly don't, you don't get any postprocessing shaders, anything that involves a compute shader is right out (which means no VFX graph), Entities Graphics doesn't work. I don't think you get much control over stuff like batching. It's pretty limited compared to what we're used to on other platforms.

I said fragment shaders mostly work. It's true that most Shader Graph nodes work the same. However, if you're doing custom lighting calculations in a Unity shader, a standard way to do things is to use the 'main light' property provided by Unity. On the Vision Pro, you don't get a main light.

The Vision Pro actually uses an image-based lighting model, which uses the actual room around you to provide lighting information. This is great because objects in VR look like they actually belong in the space you're in, but it would of course be a huge security issue if all programs could get realtime video of your room, and I imagine the maths involved is pretty complex. So the only light information you get is a shader graph node which does a PBR lighting calculation based on provided parameters (albedo, normal, roughness, metallicity etc.). You can then instruct it to do whatever you want with the output of that inside the shader.

The upshot of this is that we have to make different versions of all our shaders for the Vision Pro version of the game.

Once the game is announced we'll probably have a lot to write about developing interactions for the vision pro vs the quest, so I'll save that for now. It's pretty fascinating though.

Anyway, right now I've still yet to wear a Vision Pro. Apple straight up aren't handing out devkits, we only have two in the company still, so mostly I'm hearing about things second hand.

Shores of Loci

A few genres of VR game have emerged by now. Shooting and climbing are two pretty well-solved problems, so a lot of games involve that. But another one is 3D puzzles. This is something that would be incredibly difficult on a flat screen, where manipulating 3D objects is quite difficult, but becomes quite natural and straightforward in VR.

I've heard about one such game that uses 3D scans of real locations, but Shores of Loci is all about very environment artist authored levels, lots of grand sweeping vistas and planets hanging in the sky and so on. Basically you go through a series of locations and assemble teetering ramshackle buildings and chunks of landscape, which then grow really big and settle into the water. You can pull the pieces towards you with your hand, and then when you rotate them into roughly the right position and orientation relative to another piece, they snap together.

It's diverting, if kinda annoying when you just can't find the place the piece should go - especially if the answer turns out to be that there's an intermediate piece that floated off somewhere. The environments are well-designed and appealing, it's cool to see the little guys appearing to inhabit them. That said it does kinda just... repeat that concept a bunch. The narrative is... there's a big stone giant who appears and gives you pieces sometimes. That's it basically.

Still, it's interesting to see the different environment concepts. Transitions have this very cool distorted sky/black hole effect.

However, the real thing that got me with this game, the thing that I'm writing about now, was the water. They got planar reflections working. On the Quest! This is something of a white whale for me. Doing anything that involves reading from a render texture is so expensive that it's usually a no-go, and yet here it's working great - planar reflections complete with natural looking distortion from ripples. There's enough meshes that I assume there must be a reasonably high number of draw calls, and yet... it's definitely realtime planar reflections, reflections move with objects, it all seems to work.

There's a plugin called Mirrors and Reflections for VR that provides an implementation, but so far my experience has been that the effect is too expensive (in terms of rendertime) to keep 72fps in a more complex scene. I kind of suspect the devs are using this plugin, but I'm really curious how they optimised the draw calls down hard enough to work with it, since there tends to be quite a bit going on...

Moss

This game's just straight up incredibly cute.

youtube

Third person VR games, where you interact with a character moving across a diorama-like level, are a tiny minority of VR games at the moment. I think it's a shame because the concept is fantastic.

Moss is a puzzle-platformer with light combat in a Redwall/Mouse Guard-like setting. The best part of Moss is 1000% interacting with your tiny little mousegirl, who is really gorgeously animated - her ears twitch, her tail swings back and forth, she tumbles, clambers, and generally moves in a very convincing and lifelike way.

Arguably this is the kind of game that doesn't need to be made in VR - we already have strong implementations of 'platformer' for flatscreen. What I think the VR brings in this case is this wonderful sense of interacting with a tiny 3D world like a diorama. In some ways it's sorta purposefully awkward - if Quill walks behind something, you get a glowing outline, but you might need to crane your neck to see her - but having the level laid out in this way as a 3D structure you can play with is really endearing.

Mechanically, you move Quill around with the analogue stick, and make her jump with the buttons, standard stuff. Various level elements can be pushed or pulled by grabbing them with the controllers, and you can also drag enemies around to make them stand on buttons, so solving a level is a combination of moving pieces of the level and then making Quill jump as appropriate.

The fact that you're instantiated in the level, separate from Quill, also adds an interesting wrinkle in terms of 'identification with player character'. In most third person games, you tend to feel that the player character is you to some degree. In Moss, it feels much more like Quill is someone I've been made responsible for, and I feel guilty whenever I accidentally make her fall off a cliff or something.

A lot is clearly designed around fostering that protective vibe - to heal Quill, you have to reach out and hold her with your hand, causing her to glow briefly. When you complete some levels, she will stop to give you a high five or celebrate with you. Even though the player is really just here as 'puzzle solver' and 'powerful macguffin', it puts some work in to make you feel personally connected to Quill.

Since the camera is not locked to the character, the controls are instead relative to the stage, i.e. you point the stick in the direction on the 2D plane you want Moss to move. This can make certain bits of platforming, like moving along a narrow ledge or tightrope, kinda fiddly. In general it's pretty manageable though.

The combat system is straightforward but solid enough. Quill has a three button string, and it can be cancelled into a dash using the jump button, and directed with the analogue stick. Enemies telegraph their attacks pretty clearly, so it's rarely difficult, but there's enough there to be engaging.

The game is built in Unreal, unlike most Quest games (almost all are made in Unity). It actually doesn't feel so very different though - likely because the lighting calculations that are cheap enough to run in Unity are the same ones that are cheap enough to run in Unreal. It benefits a lot from baked lighting. Some things are obvious jank - anything behind where the player is assumed to be sitting tends not to be modelled or textured - but the environments are in general very lively and I really like some of the interactions: you can slash through the grass and floating platforms rock as you jump onto them.

The story is sadly pretty standard high fantasy royalist chosen one stuff, nothing exciting really going on there. Though there are some very cute elements - the elf queen has a large frog which gives you challenges to unlock certain powers, and you can pet the frog, and even give it a high five. Basically all the small scale stuff is done really well, I just wish they'd put some more thought into what it's about. The Redwall/Mouse Guard style has a ton of potential - what sort of society would these sapient forest animals have? They just wanted a fairytale vibe though evidently.

Cutscene delivery is a weak point. You pull back into a cathedral-like space where you're paging through a large book, which is kinda cool, and listening to narration while looking at illustrations. In general I think these cutscenes would have worked better if you just stayed in the diorama world and watched the characters have animated interactions. Maybe it's a cost-saving measure. I guess having you turn the pages of the book is also a way to give you something to do, since sitting around watching NPCs talk is notoriously not fun in VR.

There are some very nice touches in the environment design though! In one area you walk across a bunch of human sized suits of armour and swords that are now rusting - nobody comments, but it definitely suggests that humans did exist in this world at some point. The actual puzzle levels tend to make less sense, they're very clearly designed as puzzles first and 'spaces people would live in' not at all, but they do tend to look pretty, and there's a clear sense of progression through different architectural areas - so far fairly standard forest, swamp, stone ruins etc. but I'll be curious to see if it goes anywhere weird with it later.

Weak story aside, I'm really impressed with Moss. Glad to see someone else giving third person VR a real shot. I'm looking forward to playing the rest of it.

...that's kinda all I played in a while huh. For example, I still haven't given Asgard's Wrath II, the swordfighting game produced internally at Meta that you get free on the Quest 3, a shot. Or Boneworks. I still haven't finished Half Life Alyx, even! Partly that's because the Quest 3 did not get on well with my long USB A to C cable - for some reason it only seems to work properly on a high quality C to C cable - and that restricts me from playing PCVR games that require too much movement. Still though...

Anyway, the game I've been working on these past 10 months should be ready to announce pretty soon. So I'm very excited for that.

#vr #computer games #game development #shores of loci #moss #Youtube

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secretgamergirl · 5 months

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Wire Witch Hex - Wearing Many Hats (Font Design)

Lately most of the traffic I'm getting on this blog has been people stumbling onto my multipart series on how a computer works. Glad people are enjoying that as much as they seem to be. My reason for teaching myself all of that (besides just the joy of learning) is I'm very slowly working on designing a new video game console that anyone sufficiently motivated can build for themselves as a neat little DIY project. There are so many moving parts to this project that for now I'm focusing mainly on just the controller and its unique features. To avoid having to make a whole working console, with software, to test it, and make sure I have something to show for all this if the rest doesn't pan out, I'm designing the controller to also be more or less compatible with the NES and SNES (which secretly use the same input standard, just differently shaped plugs at the end of the cord).

This means all I'll need to test and demo my controller is an SNES ROM that knows what to do with my scroll-wheel outputs, a setup where an emulator accurately handles those signals, and later a cart I can slap a couple EEPROMs into and test on real hardware. Oh and I also need to teach myself enough about SNES development to actually create every demo I want to run, do all the art, code it up, and compile it. This is a big job, and I'm not getting paid, so maybe consider throwing me a little money before we dig into this?

Since... really the last time I reported in on this, I've been studying away trying to learn all this, and hey, have a compiled ROM image that'll display a blank screen in any color I want, and a third party program that IN THEORY with a bit of massaging will convert a 256x256 image into an SNES character ROM image. AKA the file with all the graphics. My ultimate goal for this demo cart is to cycle through several very simple games, showcasing how my controller works with each. So I need to cram every image any of these are going to need into my one big image file, which I'm slowly picking away at, but the one thing I knew from the start that I'd definitely need is to throw some text on screen explaining the controls for each demo. And since it's not like there's a built in font in in the system, I had to make my own.

This is not my first font-making rodeo. For this one, my thinking was, I'm going to be in a fixed 16x16 resolution per character (because I forgot the specifics of how the SNES actually tiles graphics), some built in spacing so I can slap them all right up against each other or some border and still be readable, and I wanted a nice little shadow built into every character in case they end up on a low contrast background. Let's zoom in on what I have here so far, in case you don't feel like downloading the file and blowing it up to something more readable.

The first thing I want to note is that after finishing the first 4 rows of characters here, I double checked, and while the SNES CAN break backgrounds into 16x16 tiles, the absolute minimum is 8x8. If I were really trying to be space efficient, I should have designed around that. Several of these characters would easily fit into a 16x8 space, that level of compression would also let me have just the period and comma and be able to build a colon, semicolon, or apostrophe from those, and most importantly, I rendered this with all of the lowercase letters exactly 1 pixel too tall to fit into a 16x8 space and let me double up there. Since I'm rather happy with this font so far and I'd eventually like to make some version of it available for, if nothing else, other people writing software for my eventual console here, I will likely, at some point, make a more space-optimized variation. I'd also like to cover a wider range of characters. At the very least, have some accent marks, wouldn't be too hard to add support for Cyrillic. Pretty sure I can get Japanese and Korean text in keeping with this look. Maybe some other languages. Anyway though, let's talk about what I've got.

My general design rule here was, where possible, make lines 2 pixels thick, and have each white pixel cast a black pixel shadow immediately below, to the right, and the diagonal between them. This gives a pretty convincing relief effect in my opinion, and keeping the shadows this thick keeps a nice firm edge there so it's even generally readable on a pure white background. Within each 16x16 tile, I was extremely strict about keeping a 1 pixel margin clear at the top and bottom of each image, and 2 or 3 on the sides (often 3 on the left, 2 on the right. With capital letters, I went with a generally rigid and blocky style, trying to stretch things to my arbitrary margins. Lowercase letters I restricted to just 8 pixels tall, and those featuring tails are given special permission to drop down an extra pixel, leaving the shadow right on the edge of their true bounding box.

While it wasn't an intentional move at first, several lowercase letters ended up with a decidedly rounded, squashed look, particularly g and q. I found that to be both kind of cute, giving the whole font a real unique character, and eventually started to actively lean into it (which may not be super obvious, I started with W as it's kinda the letter than needs the most breathing room and worked outward from there), and did my best to distort all the rounder shapes and in particular the highly mirrorable b d p q set, as I seem to recall once reading the more you avoid identical shapes with those, the more legible the font becomes for people with dyslexia. Similarly, I made a point of distinguishing the shapes of the Ms and Ws, and added a little whimsy to the numerals. Overall I'm super happy with all the lowercase letters (except for e and s being too thin, but that was an inevitable compromise), and if I ever have the time to kill it's very likely I'll revisit this someday and apply this squishy rounded aesthetic to the capitals too.

Your eyes were probably drawn really quickly to the parentheses here, where for at least the moment I'm breaking my rules about blank space and shifting them inward quite a bit rather than centering them. That's going to look really bad if I use them in a sentence (like this), but the main reason I'm including them right now is so I can list button prompts with both the icons representing what's actually going to be on my controller, and the SNES buttons sharing the same signals. So something like: "GO (A) Jump" and I think the half-spacing and closeness to what they enclose will look pretty nice in this one specific case.

As a final note, the particular hardware I'm working with absolutely supports the ability to mirror any image horizontally or vertically, as well as change the palette. If I truly wanted to cram letters in as efficiently as possible at this font size, I could, for instance, have an 8x8 right-angle segment, build a whole H just from mirroring that, also use it for the legs of the A, P, F, the left side of the D, etc. This however is incompatible with the shadows I'm using for extra readability. And of course for other projects I HAVE made a perfectly legible 8x8 font before.

I'm pointing this out because hey, if you do the math, JUST these characters I've set aside for having arbitrary on-screen text, as is, are consuming 5/16ths of my total graphical memory, and I'm probably never even going to display most of these anywhere. Again, not a huge problem for the simple demo pack I'm making, and that 256x256 drawing space isn't a hard limit. Spending an extra processor cycle to change an index value and access a whole other page of image data is a pretty common practice on the hardware, but especially with older computers and racing to get things ready to draw before a screen refreshes, it's good to at least be mindful of the tradeoffs with that sort of thing.

And again, my sole source of income at the moment is patreon donations, so if you're excited about seeing updates to this weird project of mine or you're learning useful things from any of it, maybe consider throwing me a little support?

#wire witch hex #console design #programming #fonts #art #tutorial #SNES

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greensaplinggrace · 3 years

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What I Would Change About the Ruin and Rising Ending

So this is separate from what I actually think would have been best for the story, in that Aleksander is the third amplifier and Alina is a tracker. Baghra never has her ridiculous plot twist info dump and Alina is actually allowed more agency and the ability to take initiative and the Darkling is actually written consistently from the start.

Here’s what I think should have happened in the ending if all the events leading up to it were the exact same:

Alina kills Mal and with the power of the three amplifiers kills the Darkling. As punishment for using all three amplifiers, she and the Darkling both lose the power of Merzost. This power is then used to fulfill Morozova’s aching loneliness, creating hundreds of shadow and sun summoners all across the world. The Darkling comes back to life through the loss of Merzost, and Mal comes back to life through the loss of his tracking abilities and status as an amplifier.

This ending feels not only more consistent with the themes LB tries to convey throughout the books, but it also aligns more with character arcs, established lore, and the parts of the plot that actually made sense.

The Darkling was punished for using Merzost by the Fold’s creation, which was a place where his powers were rendered useless (although the fact that he still has much power over the fold feels contradictory to this fact). He still retained the ability to use it, however, the result of only using some of the Merzost’s power. Alina was punished much more severely for not only using Merzost but also taking all three amplifiers. Therefore she is stripped of that power entirely. The Darkling, who she killed with the power and who has also lusted for power, is stripped of it as well.

Not only that, but the presence of hundreds of people like them now ensures they do not have more power than everybody else. It strips Alina and the Darkling of power without robbing them of a very important piece of their identity that should be impossible to take. By making it so that they now have hundreds of equals, that they have people to match them, challenge them, stop them. That they can no longer take more power, that they can no longer use their powers over those less powerful than them, that their greed does not destroy those around them. It makes them essentially powerless (consistent with the theme of punishment in regards to the Merzost), without removing their status as members of a persecuted and oppressed minority.

This remains consistent with Alina’s character arc as well. Her growth as a character, coming into her abilities and learning to accept every part of herself, instead of denying an essential piece of her identity because she’s trapped by the past and her prejudices and her fear of moving forward - because she’s also trapped by her low self esteem and her loneliness and her fear. By allowing her to remain as a Grisha, her developmental arc - of learning self esteem and self acceptance, of learning to love every part of herself and to not deny those parts of herself for others or because of her worries, of finding a community, growing into a woman outside of one person, learning to connect with others and love others and love herself and love her powers - isn’t regressed in any way. It isn’t negated.

There still remains a punishment for the Merzost and for her hunger for power. There still remains a way to acknowledge the thematic ties between loneliness and Grisha - especially Morozova’s loneliness and therefore Aleksander’s. There still remains the culmination of three books worth of seeking out amplifiers - a satisfying result of all her effort and her traumas; the powers she sought out to defeat the Darkling actually used to defeat him. There still remains the acknowledgement of Alina’s growth and change. She isn’t robbed of a valuable piece of her identity and her path of self fulfillment and self acceptance.

I won’t get into this much now, but I also think Alina’s reluctance to accept herself as Grisha, hurting herself to remain untested and weakening herself by denying that crucial part of her, is the result of centuries of the oppression and persecution of the Grisha as a people. It isn’t just her own fears, but also the way the world has forced Grisha to integrate into society. How the Grisha’s oppressors have treated them, not allowed them to truly develop or grow or gain power. The way they’re viewed by society and the prejudices against them as a whole that stifles their ability to truly connect or form a healthy community.

That part of Alina’s culture and birthright was denied her by her oppressors. She lived amongst these people for years and grew up with their customs, and when she finally discovered the part of herself that made her Grisha, she was introduced to her people. Her community that the world, through endless hunting of the Grisha and stripping them of agency, using them and othering them and ostracizing them from society, refused the ability to truly connect. She was allowed to finally realize herself and who she was born to be.

Her stay at the Little Palace was distressing in a lot of ways, but I’m not talking about just the Little Palace, I’m talking about her journey throughout the books as a whole, as she learns about the people and community she belongs to. As she grows to love it and accept it and take pride in it. Her culture and her people - the Grisha.

So when people say Alina losing her powers is good because she doesn’t want to be a part of the Grisha (even though she grows to love being Grisha, not wanting to was only in the beginning), and that she’s happier as an otkazat’sya because she grew up with them (the people who have oppressed her kind and smothered her powers), and that Grisha culture isn’t hers, I want to scream. The reason it wasn’t hers was because she was held back from it. Because Grisha oppression has become systematic and ingrained within society. Because prejudice against the Grisha runs deep.

To say that it's good that she’s stripped of what makes her Grisha because she was raised otkazat’sya? When if the Grisha were free she never would have been in the first place? To refuse to acknowledge the harm done to her people and therefore her, in creating a world so against Grisha that she was never given the chance to be raised in her own community? Amongst her own people? Who would understand her and would never have let her get sick by refusing to use her powers and who would have helped her because they know what it’s like to be Grisha - because they are Grisha.

That’s fucking bullshit.

Alina doesn’t hate her powers. Her powers don’t cause her pain. It’s others and the world that hurts her because of them. And this is an important distinction. Alina losing her powers isn’t a healthy message. That others hurting you for how you were born means that the only way to remain safe is to strip away the part that makes you different. That Alina returning to the people she was forced to assimilate with and that raised her to deny a massive part of her identity is a healthy thing-

That’s not a message that should ever be given. Which is why Alina should have kept her powers as the sun summoner, even if she loses the amplifiers.

And the burden of being the only sun summoner is lessened with the spread of her powers as well. People claim that Alina losing her powers was good for her because the world burdened her too much because of them, but that’s an issue easily solved by the splitting of her powers. She now isn’t the only one with a weight to carry because of the way she was born, and in fact she no longer has to carry it at all.

Additionally, Morozova’s amplifiers and the Merzost itself, which he created, being used to fulfill the loneliness he felt in the world and that all Grisha feel - that Aleksander especially suffered under (and which he suffered under in part due to Morozova), is a much more poetic and thematically consistent way to maintain equilibrium and fill the void of loneliness in the world than robbing Alina of her powers to do so. Which is just pointless and random and doesn’t align reasonably with any of the narrative elements. Morozova himself doing so through his amplifiers and the Merzost makes it a state of healing and even redemption. It ties his story and his character together with the plot and established themes.

It also keeps with the theme of balance. In that the Merzost is now gone and the amplifiers are now gone - abilities deemed to be unnatural and against the balance - and instead both of their powers are spread across the land. Not just Alina’s. Which was an unbalance and not in keeping with the themes established throughout the books. With both powers not only split but also split amongst many, real balance returns to the world.

I also think that both Mal and the Darkling coming back makes the ending more in line with the plot and all of the character’s arcs, and also more intriguing as a whole. Alina now has the opportunity to navigate her relationship with the both of them on new, uncertain ground.

I think this would be a unique start to a Darklina relationship in particular, as the Darkling now has many equals that are not Alina. So what would make him stay? A fun premise to explore in regards to both characters and their motivations.

On the other hand, Malina has to continue to grow with Alina still living as a Grisha sun-summoner, but now the pressure isn’t all on her. She’s free of the burden she was forced into, but not free of the powers which she came to love. She also hasn’t been stripped of her identity within a group of persecuted and marginalized people that she came to connect with.

Alina and Mal could very well live out their lives in peace. Or they could take a different path, with so many new avenues open before them. This could provide the opportunity for an even more complex future if the Darkling still remains involved with Alina (with them) even peripherally. Like if they still had dealings with him in some way, even if there isn’t anything romantic going on between him and Alina.

All in all, I just think it would be a better ending for all three of them in a variety of ways, and it also creates so many opportunities for different paths to be taken. It’s more consistent with the themes LB attempted to convey, the plot and character arcs as a whole, and the established lore.

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delimeful · 3 years

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taking the fall (3)

warnings: imprisonment, interrogation, injury, mild blood, panic and sensory overload, dehumanizing language, ambiguous motives, morally neutral/antagonistic janus, snakes mention

His guest wasn’t eating.

Janus cast an irritated glance over to the terrarium, where the only “life” that could be seen was a clump of thick foliage in one corner.

He’d left the old fake plants in there as a taunt, but as soon as the tiny creature had ascertained that there were no snakes in the grass, they’d immediately bundled every bit of shiny plastic greenery into a makeshift nest and hid within it. He supposed he should have expected it, from one as industrious as these tiny folk all seemed to be.

Regardless of his guest’s reticence, he’d been setting small dishes of food in there whenever he himself took his meals, giving them some time to adjust to the reality of their situation. It had been a couple of days, however, and every miniature entree looked entirely untouched.

His prisoner seemed to be on a hunger strike.

It added more evidence to his theory that he was being misled in regards to his guest’s identity. If they were actually a victim in all this, why bother keeping quiet and refusing to give the answers Janus needed? Why go so far as to not even eat, for people who allegedly wouldn’t care if he lived or died?

No, things made much more sense if this was a gambit on the tiny people’s part, one of them volunteering to stay and play sacrificial lamb, distracting him for as long as the others needed. Their terror, their injury, their tiny bitter laugh, it could all be part of a ploy for pity on his end. Get him too invested in a puzzling prisoner while the others escaped.

The thought made his stomach drop unpleasantly. His opponents were exceedingly small, and he was one of the few who knew they existed. If they got away, he’d never see them again.

He couldn’t afford that.

Pushing his chair back, he approached the terrarium, casting an assessing eye over the food set out in it. Some of it could sit out, and had been there overnight, the best time for his guest to eat without risking even seeing Janus. But no. Not a single crumb out of place to indicate that anything had been eaten.

“Still alive?” he asked dryly, rapping a knuckle on the glass once.

There was a long pause, and then one of the leafy stems sticking out from the nest twitched twice. This daily question and response was the only communication he’d had with his guest since that first afternoon, and even this small, silent answer had originally been prompted by a threat of Janus reaching in there and checking himself.

“I notice that you’ve been refusing any sustenance,” he continued idly, and got nothing for his efforts. “Planning to die before you can give up any secrets?”

No response. Janus sighed as though put upon, and slid the terrarium lid halfway off. There were still no meaningful movements from the nest, though it seemed to be subtly trembling. It was impressive that despite the dark clothing that his guest wore, he still couldn’t make out exactly where they were even this close.

With narrowed eyes, he reached in and grabbed a few of the plastic leaves, tugging to pull the construction apart bit by bit.

He only caught the faintest flicker of movement before there was a sudden sharp pain in his index finger, and he yanked his hand back on reflex.

A weight came up with it, putting even more pressure on his wound, and it dropped as soon as his hand was just above the terrarium lid.

Seeing the dark shape attempting to scramble away, his other hand smacked down on top of it automatically, pressing it into the mesh with a small, muffled cry.

He glanced at his hand. There was a plastic thorn hooked in his thumb, the broad end chewed off and the point of it sharpened. His guest had attacked and used him as a makeshift lift in their escape attempt.

“Oh,” he intoned, voice dark. “Seems like you have plenty of energy after all, hm?”

---

Virgil took in short, gasping breaths, barely able to hear whatever threatening thing the human was muttering as pain radiated through his leg.

It let up just slightly as the pressure of the hand on top of him eased, his face no longer pressed into the cold wire netting of the cage’s top. Before he could try and string two thoughts together, the fingers were curling around him like a hawk’s talons, lifting him up and sending another jolt of mind-numbing pain through him. He might have whimpered.

So much for that escape attempt. He’d known it was a long shot, but his options had been limited after realizing that he literally couldn’t stand on the injured leg any more. They’d dwindled further with every day he couldn’t bring himself to crawl over to any food or water. Living outside, he’d survived on very little before, but it was a gamble every time.

He was flipped to face the light, the human’s head in silhouette above him. He couldn't make out it’s words. Everything felt overwhelming, made incomprehensible by the pain and the dark spots in his vision. His face felt hot. Was he bleeding?

Things went blissfully quiet above him, and then he was being moved. He wondered if the human was about to kill him, and the thought sent a much weaker pulse of panic down his spine than usual. He hoped it killed borrowers before feeding them to it’s snakes.

Something soft and dark dropped over him, and he thrashed for a moment before his leg reminded him how awful an idea that was. So he laid still instead, letting his terror shake through him in waves, until he wasn’t completely lost to it anymore.

Slowly, he lifted a hand, feeling at what was draped over him. Cloth, soft in texture and tightly-knit enough that not much light got through. Below him… a warm, living surface.

“Awake?” the human said, voice both closer and quieter than he’d ever heard it.

Another shudder worked through him, and he reached up to press his hands over his face, wishing none of this was real. His eye pigment had run, drying in tracks down his cheeks.

He wouldn’t be able to reapply it. The locket he stored it in was left behind with the rest of his stuff, tucked away into his oversized pack and left at the opening into the human’s home. It had probably already been torn through and picked apart by Mari and the other insiders.

The thought stung, somehow more personal than the nightmare of the situation he was already in.

“I believe I see now why you haven’t eaten,” the human continued with a surprising lack of snark. It must have seen his leg. He felt a little sick just thinking about it.

What had felt like a low-grade fracture through the adrenaline had ended up growing worse and worse without treatment, until the injury was a solid lump of swollen flesh and ugly bruising that twanged with agony at even the slightest shifts. He wondered if the human was going to use it against him. It would make torture exceedingly easy on its part.

“Continue with the silent treatment, and you won’t get any actual treatment,” it said, now sounding exasperated.

After another stretch of silence, the hand beneath him moved and tilted, sliding him off onto a flat surface. Suddenly desperate to know what was going on, Virgil yanked at the cloth, dragging handfuls of it down until he reached an edge and could pull it clear of his eyes.

The light in this room was dimmer, but it still took him a moment to adjust. He wasn’t in a snake tank, but on top of a low table in what looked like a sitting room, if he remembered the human terms right. The human was seated on the couch nearby, looking down at him.

“There you are.”

---

The tiny person shot him a furious glare, rendered mostly ineffective by the dark tear streaks that were still smudged along their face.

Janus wished his earlier reflexes had been a little gentler. He’d had a quite embarrassing moment of panic where he’d thought the grotesque worsening of their leg injury had been caused by his grasp, rather than simple neglect and lack of treatment.

Despite his patience, they didn’t reply, continuing to just stare at him. He stood, ignoring the way it instantly made them begin trembling again.

“I’ll be back in a moment. Feel free to move around and make your injury worse,” he instructed dryly, before turning and going to grab the first aid kit from the bathroom.

His thumb was still sensitive, the injury messily scabbed over with dried blood. He’d pried the thorn out with his teeth easily enough, but with his other hand occupied by a prone tiny person and their hyperventilation fit, he couldn’t properly treat it.

Upon his return, he saw his guest had abandoned his handkerchief and was halfway to the edge of the table. He rolled his eyes, and set the kit down before grabbing them by the shoulders and sliding them back over to the handkerchief.

“I was being sarcastic, you know,” he told them, and opened the kit to start cleaning his undersized injury. “I’ll be very unhappy if my only source of information dies a completely avoidable death for no reason.”

“Yeah, because I sure wouldn’t want to make you unhappy,” his guest bit out, and then looked as though they were deeply and immediately regretting opening their mouth. Janus didn’t know why; he personally took much better to sass than being stabbed.

“So you do know how sarcasm works. Color me impressed.”

The tiny person actually hissed at him, like the world’s most emo kitten.

“Yes, yes, I feel very threatened,” Janus retaliated by prodding them with the edge of an open tube of arnica gel. “Here. For the bruising.”

After another long glare, his guest spoke. “What do you want for it?”

Janus raised an eyebrow. “Couldn’t it be argued that I owe it to you, for allowing the injury to fester while you’re in my care?”

“Your care--!” his guest cut themself off, taking in a deep breath through gritted teeth. “Terrible hosting etiquette aside, you weren’t the one who gave me the injury. Not your concern. So, what do you want?”

Janus wondered absently how tiny people qualified their hosts’ manners. He had certainly already failed by human standards, immediately imprisoning his guest and all, so perhaps it didn’t really matter either way. He wasn’t above taking advantage of a tiny person’s bartering honor system. “Answer three questions.”

“I get to pass on questions I don’t want to answer,” his guest countered quickly, apparently having expected this.

“You get five passes,” Janus allowed. Seeing what they refused to answer would be informative in itself.

“... Fine.” With another glance at their injury, they grabbed the tube sharply enough that they almost overbalanced. “Ask.”

“Where are the others living?” Janus asked, just to set the stakes high.

“Pass,” his guest answered, not even looking up from their task. Janus rolled his eyes.

“Why are you defending them?” he tried.

“I’m not defending them,” they shot back, vitriol thick in their voice. “I just don’t want you to get what you want. That’s one question.”

“Ouch. I’m hurt, really.” Janus tapped his nails along the table idly. “What’s your name and pronouns?”

This did prompt them to look up, face pinching up in confusion. After a moment, they returned to their baseline expression of scowl and retorted, “That’s two questions.”

“It’s one sentence, it counts as one question,” Janus lied smugly. They still looked close to passing, so he gave them a nudge. “Unless you want me to make something up? I’m very creative, I assure you.”

“I use he,” he finally grit out, “and you can call me V.”

“For Vendetta?” Janus mused, and received an utterly baffled look for his wit. “I suppose your movie repertoire isn’t that expansive.”

“Two questions,” V said flatly. “One left.”

“Yes, I can count.” Janus glanced at V’s gel-covered leg. “You have to rub that in for it to work.”

V’s expression flickered to one of despair, but he bit his lip and started to slowly massage the gel in. Janus wondered at how easily he’d believed him.

“What do you call yourselves?”

“Pass.”

“Where did you live?”

“Pass.”

“How do I bait the others out?”

“Pass.”

“Why do you hate me more than the ones who allegedly put you here?”

V’s hand slipped, and he winced and paused for a moment. “... Pass.”

There was certainly a grudge there. Too bad Janus had no idea what it could be about. Oh well.

He set a hand on the table, leaning over V. “When do the others plan to leave? As specific as you can get, please.”

“Pa--,” V cut himself off, and Janus could see the moment he realized he had used up all his get-out-of-questioning-free cards. He patiently waited out the tiny person’s fit of frustration.

“... I don’t know.” Janus’s smug grin dropped, but V continued after a speculative pause. “I don’t think they’ll leave before the season's turning. The spring thaw has been slow this year, and they’re-- not suited for it.”

Janus felt some of the tension drop from his shoulders. The start of summer. He had time, and the advantage of a weather forecast app. That was good news, even if he’d had to wrangle it out of his guest. He had time.

“How interesting,” he said lightly, and capped the gel to put it back in the box. V’s hands were clutching the edge of his coat tightly, as though guilty or angry. Or perhaps just stressed. “Let’s get some food in actual range of you, then, shall we?”

#sanders sides #ts virgil #ts janus #g/t #taking the fall #ttf #my writing #writing #borrowers #mind the warnings

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ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff · 4 years

Text

Let Me Do The Work (Aaron Hotchner x Reader) Smut

Summary: Hotch has always been a workaholic. It takes a special someone a long time to convince him to take a break.

AN: This is my first gender neutral smut! Let me know how you found it <3 Thank you to @sunlight-moonrise, @definitelynotkatesblog and @winterscaptain for being my beautiful betas on this one

Smut warnings: Blowjob, reader bottoms from the top, Hotch goes down on the reader

It had been two hours since Hotch had read a bedtime story to Jack over the phone, saying goodnight and promising to be back home the following evening.

The jet was grounded. The team was staying in their motel for the fourth night in a row. Everyone had either gone out or vacated to their rooms for an early night – apart from Hotch. An hour was spent clearing up some of the paperwork mountain, then he made the fruitless effort of driving back to the motel in hopes that the change in scenery would spark motivation.

The lamp glowing over the desk flickered again, but Hotch didn’t have to restrain any frustrations. His pen scribbled away at the paper,

A light knocking drew a sliver of his attention away.

“It’s open,” Hotch spoke up.

The door opened, letting in the stale light of the hallway for the briefest of moments before a shadow crossed it and the door was closed once again. Soft steps padded across the carpet.

Warmth enveloped Hotch’s body as two arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him to lean back in the chair. A familiar smell swayed him with the embrace. It was not helping him focus on the paperwork, his eyes now drooping shut. As he felt his captor press a kiss against his temple, Hotch reached his free hand up to squeeze one of the forearms that locked him in a cuddle. His pen still scratched the files.

“I thought you were going out,” He said, his voice low in the darkness of the room.

“The team’s still out. But I didn’t feel like it,” Y/N replied. The words from their mouth tickled Hotch’s right ear as they were spoken. They released him slowly, but their hands dragged across his collarbones, up to his shoulders where they dug their thumbs into his shoulders. It drew a groan of relief from Hotch’s chest before he even recognised that he had made such a noise.

“I’ve still got paperwork.” Hotch tilted his head back and looked at Y/N upside down. They were wearing their pyjamas and a hoodie over their shirt.

“You’ve always got paperwork,” teased Y/N, bumping their nose against Hotch’s. He let out a sigh as Y/N pressed their mouth against his. Such a kiss had only been attempted one other time, in his office and with Jack outside the door bursting out that they were doing the Spiderman kiss. Y/N had jumped and knocked teeth with Hotch. Hence why they had not attempted another until now.

Y/N moved Hotch’s head back down to face his desk, running their fingers through his silky hair with one hand whilst returning the other to massage his left shoulder.

They hummed along with him, “Take the rest of the night off, it’s been a long one.”

Further supporting their point, they pushed Hotch back in his chair so they could sit on his desk. Before he could protest again, Y/N had undone the top button and loosened the tie

“I can’t do that, Y/N.”

Y/N pouted playfully at him as their knees came against the chair between his spread legs. Hotch couldn’t help but kiss them, let his partner sweeten the deal in their attempt to convince him to stop working. Their lips bounced off each other in teasing pecks.

After losing count of those little kisses, Y/N offered, “I can help you with the paperwork if you want.”

They knew full well that neither of them wanted to do the paperwork. Hotch let out a short hum again but didn’t make any effort to stop kissing them.

“Come on, honey, come to bed.”

That was the turning point. Y/N felt Hotch’s heavy breath at the pet name, one saved for when they were alone together. It had been a long time since he had heard it. Stealing the advantage, Y/N slid his suit jacket off his shoulders. Hotch replaced his hands on their lower back. Two of his fingers lifted beneath their shirt, pressing into Y/N’s skin.

“I’m tired,” He mumbled against Y/N’s mouth, “Too tired.”

Y/N pulled away, “I know, you’ve been working hard as usual.” And they stroked over his cheeks with their thumbs, adoration in their eyes. “I’m so proud of you, Aaron, so grateful for all the work you do for this team.”

Hotch’s eyes drooped shut. There was a hint of a smile on his lips as Y/N kissed the corners of his mouth. Their hands closed around his collar, peeling it away so that they could kiss the side of his neck.

“Let me take care of you, Aaron.”

They pulled Hotch up by the collar, firm but gentle; those hands that carried him to his feet unbuttoned his shirt. Their fingertips ghosted over his skin before applying any kind of pressure. All those scars and hairs and moles were theirs to touch, and Hotch was rendered breathless at how in awe they were of him. He let them guide him towards the bed, their hands back on his shoulders so that, when they reached it, Y/N just had to press down gently, sinking Hotch onto the mattress.

Pulling their hoodie and sleep shirt over their head in one swoop, Y/N discarded it along with their underwear. All under Hotch’s gaze that dragged leisurely across their body. With his legs being moved together, Hotch ran his fingertips and down Y/N’s sides until they had him laying on his back, kneeling over his groin.

Y/N pushed away his hand as it attempted to find its own way between Y/N’s legs When Hotch went to protest, Y/N silenced him with a knowing smile.

“I’m taking care of you tonight, honey,” they reminded him.

And they stood by what they said.

Y/N was gentle as they finished undressing him, leaving Hotch bare and beautiful beneath them. The simplest brush between their skin and his sent goosebumps up his body. It was almost overwhelming as Y/N bent his legs, pushing them apart - presenting him for their pleasure as well as his. Their cheek tilted against Hotch’s left knee. Hotch waited and watched Y/N, blinking slowly and smiling away at him.

“You alright there?”

“Hmm.” Y/N looked so lovestruck that it was unsurprising that they were unaffected by his remark, “Just taking my time.”

Hotch felt his cheeks flush as Y/N kissed where their head had rested. He forgot any embarrassment on asking them to hurry up, but he held back regardless. Y/N said they were going to take care of him. He could be patient for a while longer.

At their own pace, Y/N continued forging a path of kisses up Hotch’s thigh. They listened to Hotch’s breathing blending with sighs and glanced up to watch his behaviour slip into dazed bliss. God, he just looked so beautiful when he let himself go. Rare, but just gorgeous. And Y/N wanted more of it. They masked their own impatience in their long and low exhale as they finally took Hotch’s cock into their mouth.

That flush on Hotch’s cheeks had spread to his neck. How the warmth of Y/N’s mouth, their tongue flat against his cock, held him in pleasure and yearning, it was delicious. Twisting the sheets brought no relief; he anchored a hand on the back of Y/N’s head instead.

As if to reply, Y/N fanned the fingers of their free hand across his chest and used the other hand to tease more delight from between their own legs. They were lavished in the taste of Hotch’s arousal, sweeter than his favourite pet name. Alternating between humming around the head and taking as much into their mouth as they could while sucking down hard proved the best method of extracting the response they were after.

Hotch was lost in his feelings. His eyes were on the ceiling, a particular crack that squiggled through the paint. A distant touch told him that Y/N was rolling the condom onto his cock, but he didn’t see them prep themselves, only a glimpse of them leaning close to whisper in his ear.

“Relax, honey.”

They reached beneath them and tugged his cock before they lined it against their sex. Hotch slapped his hands down on their thighs as they sank down upon him, gripping tight. A hushed “fuck” pushed out of his throat.

“Aaron Hotchner, wash your mouth out,” Y/N scolded playfully. Hotch let out a laugh in spite of himself. Sitting up, his hands covering the expanse of their back as they bottomed out on him. His smile pressed against Y/N’s as they combed through his hair, their nails scratching his scalp.

Rolling their body up against Hotch’s, Y/N began to grind on his cock. Hotch’s nails bit into Y/N’s thighs, pulling them down harder upon him in protest of the slow pace. Eyelids creased shut, unable to watch for long. Lips grazed over each other without attempting to coordinate a better kiss.

To hear Y/N moan, utter under their hot breath “yes” over and over, there was nothing sexier and it was no surprise that he was quick to orgasm with Y/N clenching around his cock.

Entirely spent, he fell back onto the bed and took Y/N with him. He cradled their head as he kissed the air beside their cheek.

“I’ve got to pee,” Y/N mumbled, eyes still closed as they eased off him. They shared a quick gasp at the motion.

Hotch heard their feet on the carpet, then on the vinyl of the bathroom before the door closed. Sitting up, he pulled off the condom, tied a knot in it and tossed it into the bin beside the desk. His arms began stretching with a grunt as he felt a click. They reached out to the sides once he had landed onto his back - definitely not reaching out in vain for Y/N.

A clinking of glass being placed on the bedside table told him to lift the covers up. Sure enough, Y/N dove underneath, pressing their cooling body up against his. They rested their nose against the curve of his neck, tickling as they breathed in his company.

“Honey, I can hear you doing paperwork in your head.”

“Sorry.”

“Go to sleep,” Y/N ran a finger in the groove of his collarbones, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

A small quirk of his eyebrow, and Hotch’s eyes rolled back as he closed them. If the promise of waking up beside his significant other had been broached earlier, he wouldn’t have put up such a fight.

---> ---> ---> ---> --->

Hotch woke up first as usual. It was quarter past seven, forty-five minutes before they were due back at the station. He stretched himself again, linking his fingers together as he reached for the ceiling, flexing them as far as he could. The crack from last night was still there. Bubbles in his knuckles popped, disturbing Y/N who had curled up in most of the covers beside him.

“How’d you sleep?” They mumbled as they rolled over to see him. A soporific smile grew once they’d seen the state of Hotch’s hair – floppy from its time pressed in the pillow.

That smile broadened as Hotch lazily touched a curled finger to their lips, “Better than I have in a while.”

“You’re welcome.”

When Hotch pushed off the covers, Y/N clung to them as they waited for him to rise and ready himself for the day ahead. Thus began a minor wrestling match between the two as Hotch hid himself beneath the covers.

Y/N asked, although they knew the answer already as Hotch’s hands groped at their hips to lie them on their back, “Where’d you think you’re going, Mister?”

“Going to return the favour,” replied the bump under the bed sheets.

Y/N parted their legs to feel such gentle kisses on their thighs in the same spots they had chosen for Hotch the night before. His cheek, they could feel its patch of blunt stubble. Their hands wrung the tops of the covers against their sternum.

His attentive tongue found them, well versed in how to please. Y/N’s legs bent and they lost sight of Hotch’s lump. But they never lost how it felt to have his mouth, his hot and talented and giving mouth, loving on them or the deep rumble of his voice that purred in response to every other call of longing from the now wakeful Y/N.

But the haze of a morning fuck before even stepping out of bed soon lifted. Propped up on their elbows, Y/N went to unexpected mirth.

“I can see your feet poking out the duvet,” They giggled and dropped back against the pillows. Their heel slid down Hotch’s back, pushing the covers off so they could see his smirking disbelief. Hair sticking up, his cheeks pink, he shook his head at them fondly.

“All this so I won’t smell your morning breath,” Y/N said through a sigh, “Bit extreme, don’t you think?”

“Not at all.” And he leant in to Y/N’s touch as they pushed a hand through his hair again.

“Honey, we’ve got work in less than an hour.”

“And I had work right in front of me, didn’t stop you then.”

“It wasn’t a favour, you know? You don’t have to.”

Hotch stopped for a moment, then he rested his chin on their stomach, his hands stroking in ticklish delight over their skin. He licked his lips before he echoed their words:

“Let me take care of you, Y/N.”

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner smut #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #smut #my writing #r: gender neutral #wc: 2k+

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yandere-daydreams · 4 years

Note

Ngl, the chapter 16 scene with Mammon and MC. Poor boy is probably still messed up after that. How could he be okay, after seeing his love die in front of his eyes? He’d probably be so protective afterwards, and I’m living for that. Thoughts on it? 👀

He’s so sweet, isn’t he? It’s a shame he can be so… /overdramatic/, sometimes. At least he’s trying to be considerate, though. That’s more than you can say for most of his brothers.

Title: Change.

TW: Non-Graphic Violence and Unhealthy Relationships.

Mammon really couldn’t change the way he was.

You could say that about all of the brothers, you guessed. Satan couldn’t help but hold a grudge, Beelzebub didn’t have a chance of controlling himself if he was hungry, and Mammon had to be greedy, when it came to you. He hoarded your time instinctually, not on purpose. He treated you like a treasure to be safe-guarded because that was how he showed affection, he didn’t think you’d be stolen away if you weren’t locked up. And, when his selfishness mixed with all of his other, more human emotions, he couldn’t stop it from becoming something ugly. You knew it wasn’t his fault, and you did try to be patient, but…

It was hard to be kind, when he was so painfully unaware of his own motivations.

The way he acted didn’t help, either.

“I just don’t see why you gotta blow me off to talk to him,” He complained, his tone only an octave or two below a whine. It was the third time he’d brought your new companionship up, and hopefully, it’d be the third time he dropped it in favor of pouting as you fled to find a more hospitable environment. Currently, he was in the early stages of his tantrum, a thin scowl pulled across his lips as he clung to your waist, his head resting on your shoulder and his body sprawled out over your bed, the boy kicking occasionally but only apologizing when his foot collided with yours. Usually, he wasn’t one for physical affection, not beyond a squeeze to your hand or peck to the corner of your mouth, but fear rendered him paranoid, desperate, eager to hold or be held or do whatever he thought would ease his mind. You were too used to it to object, opting instead to run your fingers through his hair and trace the wrinkles of his shirt, his jacket discarded for the sake of comfort. “It’s not like Belphie’s great company. I’ve been puttin’ up with him for centuries, you can’t pretend he is.”

“You’re being too harsh,” You countered, weakly, keeping your eyes closed and your focus on anything except the conversation at hand. “He’s sweet, once you give him a chance, and he really isn’t as bad as you think he is. You’re just jealous, and you’re trying to cover that up by acting all huffy.”

“I am not huffy,” He huffed, an overdone exhale swiftly turning into a sigh, once he realized what he was doing. Slowly, he pushed himself up, coming to hover over you on steady arms. His scowl softened as you opened your eyes, meeting his with a sympathetic silence, but it only turned into a light frown, one that prioritized worry over everything else. Somehow, it was no less concerning than his previous expression. “I don’t have to trust him. A month ago, he was locked in the attic because he wanted to kill humans. That’s you, dumbass, you’re human.” He paused, shaking his head before he went on. “He could be planning something. You’re just bein’ too nice to see it.”

“And you’re being unreasonable.” It was your turn to sit up, this time, pushing yourself against the headboard and crossing your arms in an effort to maintain your dignity. Your pursuit was only somewhat successful, considering the demon still in your lap, but it was enough to let him know you could stand up, rather than continue to let him tower over you. It was enough to let him know you could leave, if you wanted to. “He was imprisoned, Mammon. He was angry and he didn’t know what he was doing. He’s trying to improve, now, but you have to let him try. You can’t write him off just because he did something he regrets.” You pursed your lips, a declaration quickly turning into a frustrated mumble. “It’s not like you can judge him for doing something short-sighted and irrational, anyway.”

There was a glower, a half-repressed glare. Mammon bared his teeth, canines exposed just enough to hint at a threat. “You don’t get to--”

“You don’t get to tell me what I'm not allowed to do,” You said, cutting him off and swinging your legs over the side of your bed, already moving to stand. “I trust Belphie. Even if I shouldn’t, I do. You would too, if you just let me show you how much he’s changed.”

Mammon’s response was delayed. You were already on your feet by the time it came, low and barely audible. “Demons don’t change.”

You grimaced, but you didn’t turn around. “They don’t?”

“They don’t.” Before you could take a step or process what he was saying or do anything, a hand was wrapped around your wrist, jerking you backward and throwing you off balance, pulling you back into the space you’d occupied a moment ago. You were too stunned to move, for a second, but not because of Mammon’s sudden show of strength. He’d… he’d changed, before you could notice, slipping into a Rage with little more than a growl and your neglect. Already, elongated, pointed talons were biting into your skin, scraping over the back of your hand before he took you by the collar, shoving you back into the mattress as soon as you tried to push yourself up. You weren’t sure why you’d bothered. In the blink of an eye, Mammon was already straddling your thighs, keeping you pinned down with his weight alone.

Well, his weight, and the threat of two rows of poised, razor-sharp fangs provided when they were only one more annoyance away from ripping out your throat.

“Demons don’t change,” He spat, leaning onto you, making it difficult to breathe. Leathery wings flared out behind him, his caution turning to aggression and his self-restraint following a similar route. He let go of your collar, but his hand only fell to your throat, his nails soon embedded in your neck, attempting to draw blood with the slightest hint of pressure. “We’re violent, and we’re dangerous and we’re bad, you can’t trust us. We don’t change, and you shouldn’t expect us to. You shouldn’t expect Belphie to.” He stopped, abruptly, his grip tightening just enough to draw your attention. “You don’t take us seriously, anymore.”

“I do!” The correction was too quick, too reflexive to be believable. You didn’t expect him to, and yet, you couldn’t seem to stop yourself. “I know, Mammon, but… you’re supposed to be the one protecting me, I can’t--”

He didn’t say anything. He narrowed his eyes, clicking his tongue and rendering you silent, frozen, paralyzed. Mammon straightened his back, pulling back but making no effort to let you go. Rather, you were left to squirm as his gaze pried into you, a small, careless grin slowly stretching across his lips. “You’re lyin’ to me,” He muttered, his stare never wavering.

“I think you need another demonstration, before I can believe you.”

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seulgiology · 4 years

Text

still with you ┃jeon jungkook

pairings: idol!jungkook x non-idol!reader

words: 2.6k

genre: fluff :)

synopsis: you miss jungkook while he’s away on tour, but he reminds you that he is still with you no matter what.

warnings: cute shit ahead, angst if you squint, might make you smile.

a/n: ahhh omg admin 2 is here to save the day. june has been a really shitty month for us when it comes to giving you guys some fics and we’re sorryyy. butttt here is some jk fluff inspired by his song still with you, bc omg it is so good and i listen to it like all the time lmao. when i listened to it, i got inspired to write a little oneshot ahaha. okay this is getting long lmao, love you all <3.

disclaimer: This is a work of fiction from our imagination. It is not intended that the plot, theme, original characters, idols, etc. portray any real-life events/people. Plagiarism is NOT tolerated on this blog. If you believe we have copied an existing authors’ work, please message us privately. thank you and enjoy :)

The low music playing is what motivates you to get out of bed. You walk over to the vinyl player in your room to turn it off and when you do, you slump against the dresser with a tired sigh and rub your eyes.

You can’t sleep.

That was the conclusion you came to after trying to fall asleep but failing, and here you are thirty minutes later. You had eaten dinner, took a hot shower, and even played a vinyl to help you sleep but even that rendered useless. You knew the cause of your restlessness was because your boyfriend wasn’t home and was overseas on tour still.

It was a hard transition at first, getting used to your boyfriend being out of the country for tours. Some would think that after years of being together, you would’ve gotten used to it but they don’t understand how had it is. Since you’re already used to Jungkook being apart of your everyday life, it is hard when suddenly he’s gone for sometimes months.

Even though at times you would fly out to wherever he was to attend a concert or see him. There are video calls whenever you two can and texting every day when he’s not busy. But, there was nothing like being in his presence. At times it was hard for you to fall asleep because he wasn’t there and you felt pathetic for needing him this much but you couldn’t help it.

You leave the room, the sound of your slippers being the only thing heard through the quiet house. You walk down the stairs and make your way to the kitchen, hoping some tea will help you relax some more. You fill the tea kettle with water before placing it on the stove and while you wait, you go back to your room to get your phone.

When unplugging it from the charger on your nightstand, you see two new messages from Jungkook from three minutes ago and you instinctively smile, unlocking your phone to see what he said.

jk <3: hey baby, we just got done performing and im exhausted but happy.

jk <3: i know you’re probably sleeping but i love you and we will call when you wake up, sweet dreams baby.

A sad smile falls across your lips when reading the messages and you call him without thinking twice about it. You sit at the end of your bed and wait for him to answer the facetime call. He said he was exhausted and it was only five minutes ago so he shouldn’t be sleeping yet.

When he answers, your breath hitches at the beautiful sight of him. He’s smiling wide at the camera ad pushes some hair away from his eyes delicately. “Y/N, hey!” Jungkook is practically shouting and you hear the boys in the back yelling their greeting to you as well and you can’t help but smile.

“Hi,” you greet back in a small voice and Jungkook doesn’t seem to notice how off you sound. You watch as he bustles around and then finally sits down, where there isn’t as much noise being heard. “I didn’t know you were still at the stadium, do you want to call when you get back to the hotel?” You suggest and Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow a bit at the tone of your voice. It sounded a bit shaky and he just knew something was wrong.

“No, no it’s fine we’re not leaving for another twenty minutes. Plus, I’m riding with Jimin so I have to wait until he’s ready,” Jungkook assures with a wave of his hand and pushes some hair out of his face again, causing you to smile again. “I thought you were sleeping though. Why are you still up?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” you admit sheepishly. You watch as Jungkook’s smile falls from his face and immediate worry crosses his features. “Ah, don’t worry Kook-ah, I just have trouble sleeping without you sometimes but I get over it.”

“Y/N…” Jungkook trails off sadly. Your eyes widen when you realize he started to worry anyways but before you could speak, he’s talking again. “We talked about this, yeah? Whenever you can’t sleep just call me, you know I’m not busy when you’re heading to sleep anyways. I always make time for you regardless,” he reminds you in a soft voice and the emotion that crashes into you makes you look down because your eyes started to tear up.

“I know, I just don’t want you to worry about me. I should have been gotten used to this,” you whisper more to yourself, feeling even more upset. “I’m sorry,” You whisper, tears close to falling and emotion thick in your voice.

“Y/N, hey, baby don’t cry,” Jungkook says in his soothing voice but you keep your head down, refusing to look at him. “I’m going to worry about you whenever I’m not by your side, that’s a given and that’s nothing you should be apologizing for. Don’t apologize for missing me, okay? Because I miss you too- so much,” Jungkook admits calmly and you can’t help but break down into tears.

Jungkook is glad he has his headphones with him because he wouldn’t want the boys to hear you crying, it hurting him just not being there to hold you. He knew you took it hard whenever he had to leave and it made him feel bad sometimes but he knew you understood.

“I don’t even know why I’m crying,” you say through your sobs, and Jungkook smiles sadly at you. You finally raise your face to wipe at some tears and Jungkook stays silent, waiting for you to speak.

“I think it’s the time we been apart, you know? This is the longest we’ve been apart and it hasn’t even been two months yet,” you laugh is painful to hear because he knows it isn’t one of humor. Your chest felt like it was caving in the more you speak and as you look at Jungkook, your heart aches knowing you can’t touch him or hear him in person. “I just really miss you,” you whisper finally.

“I know and I miss you too,” Jungkook whispers back and feels himself tearing up as well, always having been a bit more open with his feelings when it came to you. “Just another week, okay? And if you’re still up when I get to the hotel, I’ll sing you to sleep.”

“Really?” you ask in a hopeful voice and Jungkook grins at your eyes brightening a bit. He nods with a hum and you smile the tiniest but it’s enough for him.

“I love you,” he reminds you and your heart does that little skip it always does when he tells you he loves you. “I love you too, Jungkook,” you say back, the smile he gives in return enough to make you smile wider.

You two hang up shortly after and you shuffle back down the stairs with a heavy heart. You felt a bit better but you were still missing Jungkook. You were going to have to get used to this so this wouldn’t be a problem for him for future reference.

You turn the stove off once downstairs and push the kettle to the back because you weren’t in the mood for tea anymore. When you get back upstairs, you just lay in bed and scroll through twitter, watching little moments and fancams from the concert earlier and pride swells through you at how good Jungkook is and has gotten throughout the years.

In fifteen minutes, your phone is ringing again and Jungkook is singing you to sleep. And that night you get the best sleep you’ve gotten since he has been gone.

It was two days later and you were coming home from dinner with some friends of yours. You had stopped by the store on the way home to grab some snacks because you were running low. You close the door behind you after and kick your shoes off by the door, trading them for your house slippers.

You flip on the light and shuffle to the kitchen, turning that light on as well. It took you a few minutes to put the snacks away and after that, you got yourself a bottle of water from the fridge. As you walk upstairs, you text Jungkook letting him know you got home from dinner and you were going to watch a movie in a few.

When you get to the bedroom, you flip the light on and start to take off your clothes. You walk in you and Jungkook’s closet and turn to his side of the closet, picking out a pair of his sweats for yourself. Just as your finishing up, the doorbell is ringing.

You pull your hair out of Jungkook’s hoodie with a confused frown, wondering who could be at the door. You jog down the stairs while running a hand through your hair cause of how messy it looked after pulling on your boyfriend’s hoodie.

You open the door without thinking and who you see standing there knocks the breath out of you. You blink a few times to try to see if your vision is blurry but he is still standing there. Holding his camera bag and a suitcase by his feet, smiling shyly at you.

“Surprise?” Jungkook says in more of a question and your mouth opens, then shuts. You can’t speak because you’re feeling so much right now. The feeling of relief and happiness is spreading through you so fast it is becoming overwhelming. You open your mouth to speak again but quickly shut it when realizing you don’t know what to say.

Instead of speaking, you do the first thing that comes to mind. You take two steps towards him and wrap your arms around his middle, gently laying your head down on his chest and closing your eyes. Jungkook smiles from above you before hugging you back, kissing your forehead softly and swaying you two gently back and forth.

The two of you stay like that for what feels like forever before Jungkook pulls away, grabbing gently at your shoulders so he can see your face. A smile finds its way onto your face as Jungkook is already smiling down at you, tucking strands of your hair behind your left ear.

“Hi,” you finally greet and Jungkook can’t help but laugh in relief, swooping down and capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. You’re caught off guard but kiss him back anyways, squeezing your eyes shut tightly.

It’s a short but sweet kiss and you’re the one pulling away from it this time. You smack your lips together and smooth your hands up his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck. Jungkook is looking down at you so sweetly, your heart is starting to hurt.

“Let’s get inside,” you suggest, and Jungkook nods, gathering his stuff and walking into the house after you. “Have you eaten?” you ask after locking the door, while Jungkook takes his shoes off.

“No, I’m more tired than hungry,” Jungkook tells you while ruffling his fluffy hair. It makes you smile just knowing he is here with you again and a few days before he was supposed to be home anyways. Jungkook looks at you when noticing your silence and raises an eyebrow. This is when he really takes the time to realize what you’re wearing. “Are those my sweats?” he asks, amusement laced in his tone and you quickly heat up, arms wrapping around yourself.

“No!” you’re quick to say but Jungkook is already hugging you again, muttering about how cute you are. You shove him away slightly, grumbling under your breath and pulling the hood over your head. Jungkook kisses your forehead before grabbing his things and shuffling up the stairs.

“Come back down when you’re done!” you shout up after him and he makes a noise of agreement back. You walk to the kitchen and take out a bottle of water, sitting at the island and going to take your phone out of your pocket when realizing you left it upstairs. You stand up and make a move to go get it until your eyes catch sight of your backyard.

You walk towards the sliding doors and slide it open, stepping out into the clear night. There was a gentle breeze passing through the warm summer air and you pocket your hands in the pockets of the sweatpants that are way too big on you.

It was the stars that caught your attention from inside the kitchen. The way they were sparkling and glistening so brightly in the sky made you smile, and admire them. You weren’t sure how long you were standing there but when you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind you, you blinked out of your trance.

“What are you doing out here?” Jungkook whispers against your neck, pressing a light kiss there which sends shivers down your spine.

“The stars are beautiful,” you respond in a soft voice, and Jungkook hums. His chin rests on your shoulder and your hands lay over his. It’s a beautiful night and the breeze knocks Jungkook’s heavenly smell into you. Leaning back into his chest, Jungkook kisses both of your cheeks.

He then grabs at your waist gently and turns you around in his hold so he can see your face. You notice his change of clothes and any makeup that was left on his face is now off. Jungkook sways the two of you again but you take it upon yourself to start moving.

The two of you dance around your backyard with happy smiles on your faces and at one point Jungkook starts to sing. It’s soft and low but it’s enough, it’s enough for your eyes to tear up and for you to lean up and kiss him hard. The dancing slows but doesn’t stop as the kiss picks up, passionate, and filled with so many unspoken promises. You grip at his shoulders and he squeezes your hips, pulling you closer to him.

When the rain starts to pour, neither of you move. You hold onto each other tightly and Jungkook moves his head back, breaking the kiss. It’s a happy laugh that sounds through the air and your tears spill over when noticing he’s crying, even though the rain.

“I missed you,” Jungkook admits, his voice shaky and your heart fills. “And I love you, so much Y/N, I will never leave you, okay? It’s always me and you, forever. I’m still with you.”

His words echo in your head beautifully. His teary eyes look at you which such fondness and with so much love, you know he is being honest with you. You’re not sure where this is coming from but you don’t hesitate to kiss him again, but this time slower. You two move together perfectly and your trembling lips make you pull apart.

“I love you, Jungkook,” you say to him and Jungkook bites his trembling lip to keep from crying. The rain is starting to pour harder but neither of you care. “Always,” you assure with a small smile. The volume of your voice was a bit loud due to the heaviness of the rain but Jungkook heard you loud and clear.

After the heartfelt moment outside, you two scurry back inside and rid of your clothes immediately, dropping it at the laundry room and as you’re drying your hair, Jungkook speaks.

“You know we just kissed in the rain right?”

“And there goes the moment.”

#Jungkook oneshot #jungkook fluff #jungkook is so cute #gif isn't mine btw #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #this is so cute uwu #still with you by jk #theyre so in love its gross #hope you like it though :)#jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #bts oneshot #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts drables

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4ragon · 3 years

Note

can you please expand your thoughts on how aai1 handled turnabout ablaze? I noticed your (rightfully) low ranking of Alba earlier so I’m kinda curious about your opinion ^_^

Okay, before I go into this, I want to say: I love this game. I love all the AA games. Even the ones I have the most complaints about (this and DD) are wonderfully fantastic games with a fun cast and intriguing murder mysteries. You should play the ones you haven’t played yet, even the ones you’ve heard negative stuff about.

That being said, Turnabout Ablaze I think is sort of emblematic of every single problem I do have with AAI.

Ace Attorney Investigations is a little bit of a mess. At its best, it’s a fun murder mystery game with a stellar cast. It introduces Kay Faraday and Shi-Long Lang, it gives us more time playing as Miles Edgeworth, always a treat, and more time with my man Gumshoe. The mystery solving is fun and it offers a new kind of gameplay than the usual point and click style for investigations.

However, it also has a lot of weird pacing problems. Your new assistant and rival don’t show up until case 3 of 5. And Lang isn’t even in case 4, so he’s barely even a presence in his debut game, even though he’s a wildly interesting and fun character. All of his development is shoved into Turnabout Ablaze, and even though it’s welcome development, I kind of wish it was spread out more.

But going more into Turnabout Ablaze: It is long, arduous slog occasionally interrupted by some fantastic moments only to be dragged back down into the deepest recesses of hell. Its midpoint feels like a climax and everything past that point slowly and sadly peters away into a sad mess of one man slowly walking away from you to get on a plane.

To start with, this case in particular has so many different people being accused of murder. Kay, then Larry, then Shih-na, then Franziska, then Alba. AAI has this issue in almost all these cases, but it never feels as pronounced as it does in this one, this meandering, confusing mess of a case. It feels like we’re never really making progress, we’re just running in circles and occasionally hitting a brick wall while we get derailed from some bullshit or another.

I feel like the setup of AAI makes accusing people you care about far less impactful than it did in any of the other games, since that blame can be passed around so quickly and easily. Every single case has at least one moment where a recurring character gets accused, and it feels almost artificial? Like of course we’re going to have to care about Gumshoe and Maggey and Kay and Franziska and maybe not Larry but that’s a personal choice of mine. Yet most of those accusations never really last long enough to have anything meaningful happen plot or character wise, save for maybe Gumshoe in the flashback case? But there’s no tension to that one since we know Gumshoe ends up fine. The rest of the time it’s just an excuse to keep dragging Miles through a constantly meandering plot.

Also, there’re these weird distractions all over the place that lead nowhere. Having to deal with Larry and Oldbag for a few minutes hours even though it has nothing to do with the case at hand is annoying. If we got rid of that second murder, would anything have changed other than a few hours of gameplay? You just have to rewrite a few parts and boom, two hours of my life saved. Or the statue section, did we need to have that statue section? These would be well and good if they were fun to solve, or character building, but they weren’t. They were just there to add time to an already bloated final case.

Adding to that, I was not a huge fan of the Smugglers plot that they were pushing to be the overarching narrative. I feel like it was meant to be this big, intimidating force, but it ended up being so boring and impersonal. And boring. And did I mention boring?

You know what was interesting? Calisto Yew, betraying her friends. Calisto Yew murdering Byrne Faraday, and then Kay’s investment in hunting her down. Then you get to the big climactic showdown with Shih-na, and it’s amazing! It’s satisfying! We’ve been developing this Big Bad for three cases and watching her finally break down, getting to that reveal of who she was, the shootout, all of it was fantastic and wait, what was that? Shih-na didn’t do the murders for this case? She was just a cog in the machine? There’s more game? Oh. Uh. Right. Okay. Whoo.

Also Quercus Alba, uh, sucks? He sucks. He sucks so much. He’s boring and smug, but also he’s this nothing character. He sweeps in at the eleventh hour to be the final hurdle, but he had no buildup other than walking around in the background as this doddering old man we didn’t care about. It wasn’t even in a “Ooo he was always there the whole time” way that Shih-na had, it was just this boring old man doing boring old man things.

And then they have the audacity to make the final confrontation with him last for HOURS longer than it needed to. And every single time it feels like we’ve progressed, not only have we made no progress, but we are actively slamming ourselves into the same brick wall over, and over, and over again.

“Oh, you see, Miles Edgeworth, I have ✨Diplomatic Immunity✨!”

“Ah, well, how about this proof! Proof that you are involved with the smuggling ring! What do you think about that?”

“Well, what do you think about this ✨✨Diplomatic Immunity✨✨ that I still have. Oh well time to go on a plane—”

“Wait! Wait Quercus Alba, what about this new proof! This proof that you could have done the crime!”

“Wowie, my ✨✨✨Diplomatic Immunity✨✨✨ certainly thinks you’re making an interesting point.”

And then Lang shows up to get rid of his ✨✨✨✨Diplomatic Immunity✨✨✨✨ after we’ve been in the same fucking time loop for what feels like twenty years of my life and then suddenly we have to prove without a shadow of a doubt that Alba did the murder?? Why???? That’s not how it works?????? Can someone fucking ARREST THIS MAN???? GUESS WHAT GUYS YOU DON’T NEED TO PROVE HE DID IT YET, YOU HAVE MORE THAN ENOUGH TO ARREST HIM YOU’RE NOT IN COURT?????????? END IT!!!! PLEASE!!!!! JUST END IT!!!! FUCK!!!!!!!!

I don’t care about the Smuggling Ring! It’s this weird nebulous idea that has no real bearing on any of the main characters other than Lang. And also like “Oh no, my country’s economy is in shambles” that’s so????nothing???? Again, if we could have anything tying us to the importance of improving Zheng-Fa’s economy maybe that would be different. Human beings as a species don’t really connect that well to a macro level if there’s nothing to make it feel personal, you know? We know nothing about Zheng-Fa and have no connection to Zheng-Fa, and we don’t have any way to conceptualize Lang’s struggle in a way that holds any meaning. Sure it’s important, but it’s not dire to us, and that makes for a shitty confrontation!!!

Let’s look back at the other final cases in this series. AA original: Miles is in danger. His smug mentor is not only trying to get him killed, but did the killings himself. AA2: Maya is kidnapped. It’s a struggle between your ideals of finding truth and justice and making sure your best friend isn’t killed. AA3: Maya is missing, and then later, suspected of murder. You’re confronting this big bad who's been a problem from case one and then also proving yourself to Godot.

They’re all personal stakes. They all matter to the main character, and the bad guy had a DIRECT hand in why. And yes, Alba ordered the killings, but again, it’s so impersonal, it’s like three steps removed so as rendered meaningless. Then you add on top that he’s got no motivation, other than greed and power I guess, he’s not fun, considering how many circles he makes us run in only to get to the same problem every single go around, he’s barely a character, he—!!! I hate him!!! I hate him and not in a fun way!!! Just end the case!!! Please Capcom!!!!

Again, the first half? When we were building to that confrontation with Shih-na? Great! Climactic. Fun. Interesting. But the rest? So deeply incredibly frustrating.

Sorry this was longer than I meant for it to. But I’m not too sorry. After all, I have ✨✨✨✨✨Diplomatic Immunity✨✨✨✨✨

#ace attorney #ace attorney investigations #spoilers #aai spoilers #meta #j

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steadytrashpastacash · 3 years

Text

Illena character analysis

The unrighteousness of the Hierarchy took Illena's fragile state of mind and twisted her into a monster. And while we can understand her cruel actions and such she should still be held accountae as she is deserving of the consequences. Narratively, She is not a sympathetic character but instead a pitiful character due to how she is presented in the story

But to provide some background, the high rankers dictating the lives of people beneath them reinforced the idea that power is everything to the mid tiers and that if you have it you're better than anyone who is weaker than you and are allowed to do what you want to them basically, that's part of the why the mid tiers bully the low rankers so much, because that sort of thing is justifiable in their world due to the hierachy.

But they aren't just doing it because they believe that they deserve it, it's deeper than that. The mid tiers want to be respected and or atleast acknowledged/taken seriously for the strength that they possess, just like the high tiers. And with that being said, there are things that the mid tiers cannot do in society because they're simply not strong enough, and because of they're forced to conform to what the high rankers tell them. The mid tiers quite literally hate that they have to listen to the high rankers because they will suffer the consequences and get beat up if they dont. Point is, they're just picking on the lower tiers to feel good about themselves and vent their frustrations in a system where power is everything. Illena is no exception

But she practically sees a former god tier acting all high and mighty/condescending when they've literally been rendered powerless, and notice that they are now attempting to take the moral high ground since that they're the one being discriminated against after losing everything. High tiers wanted mid tiers to know their place but cannot accept their own if they're not in a position of power, that is what Illena learns here.

think about it, all of a sudden they neglect the entire structure of the system and consider beating up low tiers as an injustice when they did not care about what happened to them at all when they were on top of the food chain where she perpetuated the same caste system because it was once beneficial for her. And that seriously pisses off Illena because to her this must mean that Sera still thinks that she's better than them even without any abilities because she decides to fight back/retaliate, perceiving the mid tiers as week (protecting other low tiers in the process and more importantly acting as if she still owns them by telling them what to do and getting into their business, as Illena has said)

And Illena doesnt just kidnap Sera to get back at her specifically, but all of the high tiers in a sense, their arrogance entitlement, etc etc only using Seraphina as an outlet for all of their pent up frustration and hurt. She didn't even see them as an individual, but just another high tier, as we see when Illena addresses Sera using words such as "you guys" "her kind" "them".

Illena basically just wanted to hammer in notion that the high tiers were nothing without their powers to get rid of that same high tier like mindset ingrained in Sera's head to establish her place in the hierarchy as the most worthless and incompetent student in Wellston. All she wanted was for Seraphina to learn her place and act her rank accordingly. Because as a cripple she's worthless, and she should act/be treated as such. For in this society power is everything, and high tiers were the ones who ebstablised this with their Hierachy. Seeing Seraphina acting like she was better than them was unacceptable after everything the high tiers perpetuated

Which we can see here

In this instance, Illena wanted Sera to admit that they were better than her and that she was beneath them

And so, when she refuses. Illena gets pissed off because of her stubbornness, this is when the others step up and tell her that what she's doing is excessive.

Here Krolik implies that they should let Sera go, and this isn't what he tjinks but everyone else present too, as seen as other mid tiers stand by his side. But I am not saying that they felt remorse for Sera necessarily, but felt that torturing her was unnecessary and that if they kept her hostage/continued abusing her they would be severely punished once they're eventually caught, and that just isn't worth it to them as they know that beating her up will ultimately change nothing in the long run, anyway. They just wanted to get back at her for what she did... But not like this

Basically, they want Illena to accept that they don't need confirmation to know that they're better than her, it's a given seeing as Sera's a cripple, having no value/worth. She should just give up...

But she's refuses.....out of pride, insecurity. Needing reassurance, a sense of superiority above someone that was better than them for so long as she is offended by their hypocrisy and double standards

..Anyways when Arlo catches them and calls them disgusting, Illena calls him out for valuing a cripple above the rest of them when they were stronger than her, as following the structure of his hierarchy he shouldn't even care. Usually he would just ignore them anyway. And while it is debateble on whether or not Arlo would do anything if it was someone he didnt know the fact that Illena genuinely believed that he wouldn't step in only reinforces how bad the system really is where no one expects a high tiers to help someone beneath them when they're in trouble. She also said that the high tiers dictate the lives of the people beneath them because they were born gifted and get specials privilege because of it, just because they are stronger than everyone else. And Illena is frustrated that they have to listen to the high tiers, because they're punished if they don't comply, to her it's unfair. The high tiers did whatever they wanted with the mid tiers because they were above them, so the mid tiers should be able to do whatever they want with Sera as she is beneath *them*.

But Arlo just ignores her, and this reinforces her belief that the royals dont care about the feelings/opinions of anyone beneath them since it doesn't matter what lower tiers think because the high tankers will always be stronger, meaing they dont have to listen to shit(The lions do not concern themselves with the opinions of the sheep). And that pisses her off. In that moment, she disregards his rank. Pushing past her fear and trying to sucker punch that bitch. As the only way to get your point across in this world is through violence….but the realization that she can't do shit begins to sink in once she receives reflective damage from his barrier, serving as a reminder that no matter what they really can't do anything, because they're not strong enough. Turns out her little stunt was nothing but a meaningless attempt to change the status quo, this hits Illena hard. And she just accepts that she will probably be expelled

And with all of that said Illena might've been a hypocrital bitch but she still had a valid point.And if anything her being a hypocrite only reinforced how bad the system is at hand as well. Simply put, Illena represents the struggles of being a mid tier and sheds light on their mentality and what they deem jusifiable as a result of their system. She also provides insight on the damaging us vs them mentality and actually had a point in her rant to the high tiers. She had actual depth to her actions other than just being an asshole and had something of importance to say

I like her as a character study. I think her motivations are pretty realistic in context of the world she lives in. She's an product of her environment that shaped her into becoming this bully who resents the higher ups because of their privellege.

And that my friend, is why I like Illena as a character from a narrative standpoint

#unordinary #seraphina #analysis #illena #bullying #kidnapping tw

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5-stardustbunny · 3 years

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Another silly scenario that popped into my head, involving Claude and his beloved Gladiator

· It was just another busy day of work for Claude. He sat in his office within the Berserker’s Coliseum, filling out paperwork as Snow prepared him a cup of tea.

· When he reached a good stopping point, the young emperor stood and stretched, shaking out the hand that had been writing nonstop since this morning. He glanced over at his butler, and was surprised to see that the lion had stopped preparing his tea and was instead speaking quietly on the phone.

· Snow had a bemused expression on his face and Claude’s interest was piqued. “Snow, status report.” The Lion hung up the phone and bowed towards the emperor “Dear Master, Garmr has alerted me to a disturbance outside the premises. Several of our Rankers are fighting off some would be invaders now. They are joined by the young guild master of the Summoners.”

· “In that case, let us go see what all the commotion is. It behooves us to inspire our warriors to fight to their absolute best after all” So Claude said, but he suspected his butler knew his true motivations laid in seeing his fellow guild master in action.

· As the pair neared the exit, Claude could hear the familiar sounds of battle ringing out across the sidewalk. With the confidence of a man who knew he could not be touched, he strode out of the Coliseum, blinking into the bright sunlight as he took in the scene before him.

· Indeed several of his rankers were engaged in combat. At a glance, Claude could see that the enemies stood no chance. They weren’t complete trash, but it was clear that they were beneath the skill and strength of his most accomplished berserkers and were trying to compensate for this with sheer numbers.

· Ikutoshi, Bathym, Pollux, and Garmr were all engaged in a free for all against the invaders, swatting them aside as though they were nothing. Well, at least they all seemed to be finding amusement out of the whole thing if Pollux’s excited battle cries and Bathym’s roaring laughter were anything to go by.

· “I cannot believe you’re fighting in that!” Ikutoshi called out as he threw a man twice his height over his head like he weighed nothing “What’s the matter with you?!”

· “Now, now!” Bathym chimed in, obviously delighted by something “Don’t be like that darling! It’s just like with Tarus! It’s about the pizazz! The Showmanship---!”

· “—the fact that I lost a bet and have to wear this all day.” Another voice interrupted wryly. Recognizing it as the one he was searching for, Claude eagerly looked around for a glimpse of you.

· From behind a crowd of mob trash you emerged, batting them aside easily. Claude was struck dumb at the sight of you. You stood upon the battlefield proudly, deftly swinging your blade…in a wedding dress.

· It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship. Pure white, the off the shoulders dress dipped low, displaying a generous amount of your chest. The ballroom style skirt flowed around you as you moved, it’s delicate lace details at odds with the violence around you.

· You shone like the brightest star in the sky and the Emperor of Ikebukuro was enchanted.

· It didn’t take much longer for you and the berserkers to lay out the rest of the attackers, rendering them all unconscious with a practiced ease. Laughing brightly, you exchanged high fives with the three rankers before petting Garmr.

· Perhaps it was not a surprise that Ikutoshi was the first to notice the Guild Master’s arrival.

· “Oh!” the boy remarked, eyes widening as he caught sight of the pair standing at the door to the Coliseum. “Hey Boss, Snow. Did the noise catch your attention? Don’t worry we took care of them all already.”

· Claude froze as your eyes landed on him. You smiled so brightly it could put the sun to shame, and you waved excitedly “Claude! Hi Claude! Hi Snow!”

· Claude just stood there staring. It occurred to him that this was wildly out of character, but he could not get his heart and thoughts to stop racing.

· Your expression twisted in concern and you bound over to Claude’s side, “Youre face is all red Claude! Are you getting sick? Do you have a fever??” You step into the Emperor’s personal space and placed a hand on his forehead. Claude opened and closed his mouth but words wouldn’t come out. You frown deepened as you pulled your hand back. “You do!” You scolded “You’re working too hard! Snow!”

· The butler turned towards you, bowing “Yes?”

· “I’m taking Claude to go get some rest, okay?”

· “Of course, I’ll leave the young master in your capable hands.” Claude whipped around to stare at his butler, but the lion simply smiled “I’m afraid I must see to this mess being cleaned up, and that may take some time.” That troublesome butler of his! Claude opened his mouth to say as much, but was rendered speechless once again when you grabbed his hand and led him into the Coliseum.

· Eventually you herd him into the bedroom Claude keeps in the building. Well, it’s his in name alone, it’s never used, though Snow makes a point of keeping it clean. The emperor found himself seated on the bed and being fretted over by you. Not a bad feeling by any means, but it wasn’t necessary.

· “Our dear Gladiator” Claude interrupted you, taking your hand “You concern flatters us but there is no need. We are not ill.”

· You looked confused “Huh? But you were so red, and you weren’t saying anything.”

· “Ah, yes” Claude chuckled “Our apologies for causing any concern. We were merely struck speechless by how radiant you look in that wedding gown.” He was rewarded by your face turning a cute shade of pink as you looked down at your dress. “Now We must return to our work—”

· Claude went to stand but was forced back down by your hands on his shoulders. You were still blushing, but that concerned frown was back. “Hold on a sec there. Sure, you may not be sick but…” You cup his face gently with your hands, running a thumb gently across the dark circles under his eyes “But you’re still working way too hard. You need to rest!”

· Claude sighed out your name, but you stood your ground. “May I take this to mean you won’t be taking no for an answer?” Claude asked wryly. You nodded firmly “I’ll use force to keep you here if I have to. Don’t underestimate how seriously I take your health!”

· At that the emperor could not help but give a boisterous laugh. That stubbornness of yours was one of your most endearing traits, perhaps he should have known it would one day be turned on him. “Very well! You wish for me to remain here and rest at least until Snow is finished dealing with that business outside, correct? I shall acquiesce on one condition.”

· “Okay! What’s the condition?” You asked clearly pleased that he was willing to negotiate. “I would like for you to rest here with me. I was left in your hands by Snow after all, and it would be a waste not to spend as much time as I can basking in the image of my gladiator in full wedding regalia.”

· You give him a look of pure exasperation but you still kick off your heels. You stand in front of him, taller than usual given he was sitting on the bed, and he took you in, in all your glory. When he didn’t say anything, you raised an eyebrow “Are you gonna lie down or…?”

· Claude smirked “Of course!” Then without warning he wrapped his arms around you and twisted his body so you both landed on the bed with a soft oomph. You yelped in surprise, but allowed Claude to pull you close and bury his face in your shoulder. If you were available to do this every time perhaps Claude would consider taking breaks more often, this was the most relaxed he’d felt in months.

· “Hey, one sec” You push lightly at his shoulders and reluctantly Claude pulls back up into a sitting position “You can’t lay down in a tie man, you’ll choke yourself. And who sleeps in a cape, and blazer? Like come on my dude. Sorry I’ll be confiscating those laurels too, they’re already stabbing into my shoulder.” With each point you removed an article of his clothing until the emperor was left only in his shirt and pants. As you gently tossed his laurel to the foot of the bed, you turned back to look at him with an expression of mild surprised.

· “What is it?” He asked curiously. “Oh, um, sorry. I just noticed…” You reached out and ran you fingers through his hair over and over “Your hair is so soft.”

· Something warm settled in Claude’s chest and he dropped his head back against you shoulder, plopping you both back down across the bed. His arms twisted around you, and he ran his hands up and down the back of your dress. You gave a huff of amusement and returned the gesture, taking him in your arms while continuing to run one hand through his hair. “So you’ll stay put then?”

· “I would never go back on my word.” Claude mumbled against your skin “I will remain here resting until such time that Snow comes to collect me. However, while we remain like this, I would ask you to keep talking. I find your voice quite soothing. It can be about whatever you’d like.”

· “Hmmmmmmm” You give it some thought. “Oh I know! I’ll tell you a story! I learned it to tell Agyo and the other kids, it’s about a kidnapped prince and the brave knight who saves him!”

· Claude can hear the smile in your voice as you began the tale, and he relaxes further into your embrace. Without meaning to, he slowly succumbs to the soft call of sleep.

#I used to just think Claude was alright #And then I finished ch 7 of the main story and I fell head over heels for him #claude #tokyo afterschool summoners #housamo #dust writings

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jiamour · 4 years

Text

piano, practice & peptalks

pairing: chenle x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 5.9k

summary: chenle is the pianist for your senior year production of high school musical and he always stays late to help you practice

alternatively: chenle make heart go woosh

a/n: i wrote this a year ago so it may not be great,, he’s a shy boy in this im sorry,, but if people can write jeno as a bad boy all the time i can have my shy boy chenle so,,,, also i tried to edit it but i got tired of reading it over and over so its still a mess

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“start on four okay, i’ll count you in,” chenle instructed, nodding his head like he was confirming your next actions to himself. he hadn’t even glanced in your direction, his eyes fixated on his hands that laid on top of piano keys.

you were sat on the floor, a pointless rolled up and crumpled script in your hands, and just like chenle your eyes were glued to the movement of his hands against the piano. “one,” his fingers mechanically moving, nodding along to the beginning melody you both had heard at least a thousand times in the last hour. “two,” you were starting to get nervous again, maybe it wasn’t the greatest idea to ask the most musically gifted human to probably ever exist to help you practice for a school play. it was just another under budgeted, high school musical rendition of “high school musical” after all, because your school lacked any ounce of originality. “three,” you took a breathe in, flopping out the lines in your hand so you could easily see, cringing at the noise. “four,” his eyes moved to you, still playing the basic tune, checking to see if you were going to start on time. which, sadly, was a rare occurrence. you tried your best to listen to his cue breathily beginning, “it’s funny-“ “nope, again,” he stopped you immediately, almost ruthlessly. you kicked your feet lightly against the stage, humming in disappointment. “but chenle, whyyy?” it came out in an unintentional whine. he laughed humorlessly, shifting his body so it was facing you, a hand running through his hair. he still had a smile on your face but you were sure it was more from annoyance than happiness. his hand dropped from his hair so he could look you in the eyes, though you could swear he was looking right passed you instead “you were off key, if you kept going, the whole song would have been wrong and we’d be wasting time.” “it seems like we’re wasting time anyways,” you mumbled under your breathe, frustrated, breaking the “eye contact”. you let your head droop towards the ground as you played with the half empty water bottle beside you. “hey,” his loud voice was so much softer now clearly noticing your frustration. he leaned forward on his bench his elbows resting on his knees, hair swooped slightly over his eyelashes, “look at me yn.” you listened to him and were met with his soft droopy eyes gazing right into yours, this time making your heart skip a beat. when he got your attention he started speaking again, awkwardly moving his hands along with his words not knowing what to do with them when he wasn’t playing the piano, “i’m sorry if i’m being too tough on you, i just know you can be great and i want to see that.” you huffed not appreciating his half assed pep talk, falling back on your hands, resting them flat on the floor behind you. “sure, whatever i’ll try harder.” “no yn, that's not what i’m saying. i um- you want to be like gabriella don’t you? work hard and it’ll pay off okay?” he tried, his tone a little stressed but slightly humorous. “gabriella was late to all the rehearsals and try outs, and almost didn’t go to the performance,” your tone was empty and tired, also a little raspy from all the times it had to stop and start. chenle was taken aback for a second, or at least you thought he was, his expression morphed back into the usual small smile almost instantly. “okay then, um, don’t be like her then, be like sharpay.” “but she doesn’t get the role after working hard for years,” you fought back sternly, like this was the subject you were most passionate about in life and not like you were just happy you got to take a break from chenle telling you that you were wrong. he laughed a little, pushing himself up so now one hand was on his knee and the other was pushing the hair back out of his face. his navy blue sweater flopped open a little as he moved. “just let me have this yn, i’m trying to motivate you!” you were sure he was just as tired as you were having to play the same notes over and over, and the dim lighting of the stage didn’t make it any better. “never,” you fought back a little bite in your voice and he lazily rolled his eyes at you deciding it was best to turn away, back towards the comfort of his piano now. “we’re going again you know the count,” again without any confirmation he began playing, patronizingly calling out the number to you, and this time, just to push his buttons, you started at 3. “stop,” he muttered, before you could even get the second syllable out. “yn, you have to listen to me for the millionth time, it’s 1-2-3-4 and THEN you start singing, please stop missing the beat before i-“ he was keeping his tone low and calm but his hands waved through the air violently as he spoke, until his tangent was broken off by you laughing to the side. with the tiniest admirable smirk on his face he turned to see you giggling on the ground getting amusement from his annoyance. “you should have seen your face,” you happily expressed through your giggles making him shake his head in disbelief “my face didn’t even move,” if you didn't know better you’d say his voice was almost whining back at you. “yeah but you wanted it too. i saw twitches zhong chenle don’t lie to me!” you cut him off when he tried to interject a finger held in the air just for emphasis “there was no-“ he took a breathe knowing you were just trying to get a reaction out of him, wanting to give into your game, but wanting more to practice at the same time, “let’s just start again and no forgetting how to count this time.” “one.” ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈« “that’s not the note,” he stopped playing and instead took to guiding you through the song with his finger moving up and down in the air as if you could understand that perfectly. “listen chenle, we can’t all be literal prodigies like you,” like always you began your usual squabble with him that had started to occur almost every time you messed up. or in other words, a lot. “hate to break it to you yn,” he started, tracing his hand over a key while playfully looking into your eyes, “but it doesn’t take a musical genius to be able to sing along to high school musical, zac efron could do it for god sake” “actually zac efron didn’t sing his parts in high school musical,” chenle appeared stunned, like he did every time you said something that he didn’t know, this might not even have been true but it was nice to have rendered him speechless if only for a second. his mouth hung open cutely until he swallowed and spoke again his lips in a small pout “i should just stop using characters as an argument you thwart me every time.” “did you just say ‘thwart’?” you laughed falling forward slightly holding your stomach. he nudged you with his shoulder, looking away embarrassed but still smiling along with you ALSO speaking of him nudging you, after many many practices together chenle finally let you sit beside him on his bench. you took this as a large accomplishment. you’d only seen one person sit on his bench before during normal play rehearsal and he definitely wasn’t welcoming their presence. chenle’s best friend, jisung’s, girlfriend, craving to be liked by everyone, pushed in beside him a few days ago taking up room with not only her form but also her overwhelmingly, extroverted personality. chenle, though clearly uncomfortable, just smiled shyly and opted to show her how to play a few simple chords per her request. it took jisung constant tapping on her shoulders for about five minutes straight to finally get her away with new piano knowledge she’d surely forget seconds after. bUT besides all that, chenle had finally allowed you to sit with him, and that’s all that mattered, even if it did leave room for more nit picking and teasing. “let’s just get back to practicing,” he said through his laugh, straightening his posture. you followed his lead almost comically straightening your back to mock him which just making him laugh more. he playfully pushed your forearm to get your shoulders to fall again, “stop ittt!” you punched your arm out just enough so it missed the piano in front of you and turned your head towards chenle, “stop what chenle, this is my battle position.”

he shook his head and positioned his eyes on the piano, “i’m starting whether you like it for not, so stop fooling around.” “fine,” swiftly your arms were crossed across your chest, an over dramatic pout morphing all your other features, “you’re no fun.” “oh, so that’s how we’re going to be,” he sounded like he was challenging you and not like he had been offended by your comment. chenle cleared his throat, positioned himself and his hands like he was about to play an epic concerto, and then in one quick movement he hit a single key around the center right of the piano, “you need to be here, but you are-“ he then proceeded to smash his hands down on the keyboard to create a loud unpleasant mash of noise, “here.” “heyyy,” you kicked his foot with your own lightly “you’re a bully zhong chenle.” ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈« your eyes were locked with chenle’s as you ran through one of the musical numbers. he was sat off to the side on his piano bench which he seemed to never move from while you were up on main stage, the stage lights blinding the corner of your eyes. it was almost the end of practice and you were tired, the cast was tired, the theatre teacher was tired, but chenle, somehow he had all the energy in the world to dance mockingly off to the side moving cutely around to try to copy your actions. you probably should have been watching your step or at least watching your “co star” because it wasn’t exactly safe with all the basketballs haphazardly thrown around. but instead you couldn’t take your eyes off probably the dorkiest little piano man. “okay, okay CUT!” your teacher called from one of the seats at the back of the room, pushing herself up slightly so she appeared more in charge. the dancing and singing stopped abruptly with her words and you stumbled a little having to be caught by jaemin who happened to be beside you, you could already imagine chenle laughing at you later, “yn dear, for the love of god please pay attention to what’s going on instead of staring at chenle.” you. were. embarrassed. your eyes sunk from the teacher to the ground to chenle who was indeed laughing and back to the ground before nodding and muttering an “um i- okay, sorry.” the teacher nodded back and turned her attention to the smiling boy, “and chenle,” his expression immediately dropped and you saw him noticeably get shy and swallow “keep up the enthusiasm.” the rest of practice went smoothly, sadly with a lot less chenle dancing and a lot more actually practicing. like always you stayed later with chenle. he would always be waiting for you by his piano as you said goodbye to your friends and cast mates, sometimes he’d play to speed by time and you’d wait a little longer to go to him just to listen. but today zhong chenle wasn’t at his piano, today he was dribbling one of the basketballs that used to be a tripping hazard, across the stage. you leaned your left side on the wall beside you, your arms crossed and a teasing smile prepared on your expression. just as he was about to shoot on the flimsy basketball net some kid had taken off his driveway to help with the set, you snuck up behind him. with a light tap on his arms, you yelled a loud “boo!” causing him to drop the ball out of his hands and spin around towards you with a pout. “what was that for?” he continued to frown even as you smirked and ducked under his gaze to grab the basketball that had stopped rolling on the floor beside him. “i just wanted to show you how a real pro does it,” you said confidently a quick nod to your head and the basketball tucked under your arm. “uh huh sure,” chenle spoke sarcastically lunging forward to grab the ball out of your hands but you dodged his arms and ran a little to the side away from him “is that why it took you so many tries to get the ball in during practice yesterday?” “i just didn’t want to intimidate them with my talents, god chenle,” you moved your hand up to your head as you spoke and the ball rolled away from your grasp. quickly you scampered after it not wanting chenle to get it before you. “right, right sorry i doubted you.” he began walking to his piano again and you knew what that meant, more practicing. “let’s go over the song we stopped on yesterday, yeah?” he expected you to follow, instead you tossed the basketball weakly and it flew about 5 feet in front of you to the left side of the net. you turned on your feet hoping chenle hadn’t noticed and pretending that you had meant for that to happen: of course chenle noticed, he had his hand covering his smile as he laughed. as soon as you saw him as happy as he was, you knew you didn’t want to practice. “no,” you held your ground your feet cemented to the floor. “no?” his laughing haulted and, like the cutie he was, his head tilted in confusion. “i’m hungry” it was the first thing to pop into your head and plus, you really were hungry. somehow though you still sounded confident. “you’re hungry?” he repeated your words back slower his eyes squinting against the bright stage lights which you hadn’t turned off yet. your eyes rolled the slightest bit and your hand rested on your hip, though you weren’t actually annoyed “what are you a parrot now?” “no,” he said. “i just don’t know how to respond, you don’t have food do you?” “no,” your face scrunched “that’s why i’m hungry.” he opened his mouth to speak but you continued talking “but there are vending machines and you seem like the kind of guy to always have your wallet on you.” “i’m not buying you food.” “but chenleee,” you tried a whine and puppy dog eyes that he never fell for. “no.” “look, i’ve been rehearsing for three hours, THREE HOURS CHENLE, please give me money so i can get us something from the vending machines,” you had your hands together, ready to beg him. originally this was just an excuse but now that you thought about it you were starving and you could already hear your stomach grumbling in the near future. he stood up from his bench dusting off his knees as just a habitat, because really where would he have acquired dust? “if you can beat me in a basketball game to three, i’ll buy you food.” “you’re on,” and with that chenle lazed across the stage towards the basketball that laid just off stage and his nonchalant movements led you to believe this win would be easy even if you sucked. boy were you wrong. chenle tossed the ball to you which you caught with an oomf not expecting the strength behind it. you let him walk to center stage again before you bowed “what the fuck yn-“ “it’s for honor,” you hissed gesturing for him to do what you did “that’s not how it-“ you looked up in a glare “fine, whatever.” as soon as he awkwardly bowed you ran forward messily dribbling the ball. you heard his initial shock and then a laugh behind you and then seconds later in front of you as he swooped the ball out of your possession. “that’s illegal,” you cried chasing after him as he dribbled to the other side and easily sent it into the basket. he retrieved the ball and turned back to your slumped form smiling “no, that’s one for me.” “you’re not supposed to be good at this,” you sighed as he tossed the ball back in your direction. “come on yn” he said. “if zac efron can do it then you can too” you went to speak your finger up in the air like you were going to correct him again so he spoke faster than you, “what are you going to tell me zac efron didn’t do any of the basketball playing as well?” “no,” you bounced the ball in front of you “i was going to ask you if you only have one pep talk?” “yes i do,” he rubbed his hands together getting ready to play again, “now start dribbling so i can get 2 more points and we can go back to practicing.” “um i think you mean, i get 3 more points and we eat snacks.” “not a chance.” and with your newfound will to beat chenle you ran forward only to get the ball taken from you a second time. this time you reacted faster deciding to latch onto him in true koala form instead of going for the ball. “this-“ he tried to shake you off his back are the ball rolled out of his hands and across the stage again “is not how you play basketball.” “that’s because you’ve never seen my strategy.” “i don’t know what you hope to achieve from this strategy,” he laughed finally shrugging you off. “snacks.” you answered, “i hope to achieve snacks.” chenle won the game 3-1 sadly, after his second basket he noticed your enthusiasm withering so he “accidentally” fumbled the ball in your direction 3 or 4 times until you finally got it in. his third point was achieved about 3.5 seconds later from the opposite side of the “court” to stop you from getting too cocky. “let’s go practice now,” you groaned and stopped chenle by pulling his arm before he could go back to the dreaded piano. “please chenle, buy me snacks,” you whined trying again with the puppy dog eyes “i’ll name my first born child after you.” “well i don’t think that’s necessary-“ “i’ll mention you in my award acceptance speeches when i’m famous, you’ll be known as zhong chenle the guy who got me snacks and saved my life,” you tugged on his arm more and you could feel him relenting “fine,” he said as he took out his wallet with the hand that wasn’t being pulled by you. “thank you-“ you yelled out happily jumping away from him “but-“ he held $10 in front of you and when you went to grab it he moved it away, “you have to promise me you’ll get famous, cause if you don’t i’m marching straight up to your house and getting my money back.” “of course,” you nodded barely listening to what he said your eyes fixed on the money in his hand which you snatched as soon as he brought it near. you sprinted off down the halls to the nearest vending machine leaving chenle on stage shaking his head with a fond smile. “why did you get apple slices,” chenle asked picking up the cold green plastic they were in and plopping them back on the ground in front of him. “i didn’t know if you were a vegetarian so i didn’t want to offend you,” you responded plopping a chip in your mouth, the bag of which chenle grabbed from your hand the second he noticed. you were both sitting cross legged on the stage floor across from each other the food laying in between you.

chenle waited until he finished his chip to speak, “chips are vegetarian yn, they’re just potatoes.”

“you’re a potato.”

“that was uncalled for.”

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“we’re soaring. flying. there's not a star-” chenle mumbled through the words robotically as he played leaning forward to squint at the lyrics.

you hit him with your slightly rolled up script, “sing! when i asked you to help with the duet i meant singing.”

“i’m not singing,” chenle leaned back his hands in his lap and no longer on the piano as he shook his head.

“come on chenle if zac efron can do it you can too,” you laughed taking his stupid pep talk from him.

he turned his head in your direction amused, “from what i heard zac efron didn’t sing either.”

“not in high school musical maybe,” you said smirking, “but he did in the greatest showman, at least i think he did.”

“you’re a loser.”

“says you.”

he sighed and straightened out the sheet music on his piano, “let's start again.”

“are you going to sing?” you perked up hoping he would give in like he had for the snacks a few days ago.

“no,” he shook his head again, harder this time, like if he shook his head enough the idea would leave yours.

“please?” you were pouting and he knew it so he decided not to look at you, knowing that over the past few weeks he had been getting softer for your every action.

“no,” his tone was uncertain and you latched onto that like he knew you would.

“chenle,” you said this to get his attention hoping he would turn towards you like he usually did but again he refused his leg bouncing beside him.

your socked feet hit against his piano bench in frustration which you sat on cross legged facing him. “chenle look at me.”

this time he did but he wouldn’t meet your eyes shyly he looked down at the ground beside you. you delicately grabbed his hands from off the piano and into your own.

when you squeezed his hands a little he finally looked into your eyes and you smiled at him, “chenle will you please sing with me?” you asked softly, softer than he’d ever heard your voice before.

“fine” chenle relented, he knew if he looked into your hopeful eyes for too long he would agree but there was really no helping it.

“really?” your eyes sparkled not expecting his response and he nodded.

“really.” he cleared his throat, “but don't laugh at how much i suck alright?”

“chenle i’ll only laugh if you're really bad, don’t worry” you watched as his shy expression changed into a pout on his soft lips. then you realized you were looking at his lips. You looked back into his eyes to see him staring back at you with a look of soft wonder.

with a small cough to break the silence and to break your hands apart, you forced a laugh “i’m kidding, i bet you’re great anyways your good at everything else.”

“i can literally do two things,” he laughed. Good, you were back to your usual interactions.

“well that's two more things than me,” you fought back.

his mouth fell open like you had offended him but his eyes were still friendly, “um shut up, you can sing, you can dance, you can steal my heart,” he made a heart shape with his hands after he spoke.

“you can’t sweet talk me out of making you sing.”

“darn.”

“and who the fuck still says darn?”

“your mom?”

you hit his shoulder a little harder than usual, “zhong chenle!”

“i’m sorry it just slipped out, i didn’t mean to bring back a joke from the 2000’s,” he looked ashamed but you saw the smile twitching on his lips. jEsus stop looking at his lips.

“i just-” you placed a hand over your heart, your head turned away dramatically, “i just don’t know if we can be friends anymore after that.”

“yn-”

“no i'm leaving,” you said getting up from the bench and grabbed your bag that laid on the ground beside you.

before you could step away he lightly grabbed your wrist in his hand and gently tugged you back in his direction, “don’t leave.”

he was too soft to decline so you huffed, you shrugged your bag off again, and sat back down on the stool.

“good,” he said letting your wrist go and turning to his piano “let’s practice.”

“fine,” you agreed taking in a breath of air “but no piano this time.”

“you want me to sing acapella with you?” he asked in disbelief, doubting you would stick to this seemingly outrageous request.

“yes,” you confirmed quickly.

“okay,” chenle didn’t know why he agreed or why he agreed so easily but he knew he couldn’t back out now without another fight, “so um- how do we start?”

“not so tough without your piano huh?” you teased reaching to his sheet music and handing it to him, “first you probably need the lyrics.”

“good call,” he nodded rocking back, one hand on the bench the other holding the lyrics, and swallowing nervously.

you could see how tense he was and placed a hand over his too try to calm him down a bit, he relaxed slightly under your touch and you began to count him in “one, two, three, four.”

“we’re soaring; flying, there's not a star in heaven that we can’t reach,” his voice was so fucking pretty and he didn’t tell you this before? and for why was he being modest?? his voice was beautiful and it made your heart swell that he had agreed to share it with you and no one else.

“hey,” chenle waved the paper in your face, you blinked and broke yourself out of the thoughts you hadn’t even realized you were trapped in, “you missed your part.”

“you’re so pretty,” it came out in an over dramatic pout then you realized what you said “um- i um meant your voice is pretty.”

in typical shy boy fashion he looked away, “i um- thank you? but it would be nice if you sang next time too.”

“right, lets go again.”

“whats this?” chenle smirked tilting his head in fake confusion, “yn actually wanting to practice? was my voice that moving?”

“shut up,” you huffed and raised your fingers in a count to start again.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

“wheres yn?” jaemin asked leaning over chenle's shoulder as he did the soundcheck for the night.

“what do you mean, ‘where's yn’” he did finger quotes and his face scrunched up slightly annoyed and confused.

“i mean, wheres yn,” jaemin repeated again in the same curious tone “she’s not with the cast so i thought she’d do with you”

“what do you mean she’s not with the cast?” chenle’s voice was louder now trying to hide that he was worried about you when nothing was probably happening.

“I mean shes not with the cast-” jaemin frowned “why do you want me to keep repeating things? are you okay chenle?”

chenle ignored him and quickly finished his soundcheck going off to find you. awkwardly he went up to one of your friends spending the whole time fiddling with his fingers until they told him you had gotten nervous and went to splash some water on your face.

he spoke quick thank you and wandered down the hall to see if you were okay, hesitantly he knocked on the door “in a minute!” you called from behind it your voice shakier than normal.

“hey yn, you're on in um-” he looked down at his watch and his heart rate picked up, “literally two minutes, you good?”

“um yeah,” he heard a loud sniff as you walked over to the door and opened it.

your face was red and you brought a hand up to rub your eyes leaning on the door frame giving chenle a fake smile.

“have you been crying?”

“no,” you sniffed.

he gave you a disbelieving look and you frowned tears spilling from your eyes again, he held his arms open and you immediately fell into them, holding onto him tightly. one arm wrapped around you while his other texted jaemin to tell the teacher they may have to delay the musical a few minutes.

placing his phone back into his back pocket he brought a hand up to move down your hair calmingly as you cried into his chest.

“yn,” you hummed against him in response until he moved you back his hands on your shoulders, holding you about a foot away. he cautiously brushed a tear away with his thumb, “you’re going to do great and i’m the harshest critic in the world, you of all people know that.”

“yeah,” you sniffed again “but you like me now, so it’s not the same.”

you smiled sadly at your own comment and he smiled with you “i’ve always liked you.”

“liar.”

“okay, maybe i didn’t like you when we first met because you cut in line and took the last of the pizza,” chenle agreed, you humphed at him, a little glare in your eyes “but i liked you the second time i saw you, you know when you accidentally threw a pencil at my head, i really needed a pencil that day.”

you giggled and chenle was happy he was making progress.

“this isn’t like your usual pep talks,” you teased, biting your lip as you looked up at him.

“well after a while i learned every single character in high school musical is actually corrupt and maybe not the best people for motivation.”

“good call,” you nodded, “but you’re not even going try? i like shutting your pep talks down.”

“fine um-“ he said thinking “you can do this yn be like kelsi and sing your heart out.”

“she played piano she didn’t-“

“you get my point,” he smiled his pretty smile and you couldn’t help but smile back, “and you’re going to do great, so get on out there before they kill you and i for keeping them waiting.”

“okay.” you nodded and he let your shoulders go so you could run together to the stage where everyone was panicking, and before you parted ways you gave him a quiet thank you.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

you felt the adrenaline and pride rush through you as you finished the final number in the musical. you couldn’t stop a smile that took over your entire face from forming.

you took your bow, immediately after looked to the side hoping chenle was paying attention and there he was standing at his piano at the side of the stage giving you a standing ovation, your eyes met and he smiled so proudly.

you felt yourself lose control of your body as you ran towards him and jumped into his unsuspecting arms, your arms wrapping around his neck and your legs around his hips. it took him a second to regain his balance from the unexpected hug but once he had, he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.

“you did so good,” you leaned back so you could see his face and he could see yours. he was smiling. you were smiling. god was probably smiling but you couldn’t be sure. he spun you once as you both laughed and stopped looking you in the eyes “i’m so proud of you.”

then you noticed how close his face was to yours, your eyes dropped to his lips and you could tell his did the same, your breathe was heavy from the performance as well as the close contact, chenle began to lean in and you both start laughing again. your head fell to his shoulder while you laughed together.

after a few seconds, and realizing that everyone could still see you both he put you down and shyly stepped away. his head ducking and flushed.

“i’ll um- see you later yn?” he said and you felt a little disappointed as he disappeared backstage without even waiting for your response.

you turned back around to see your friends all huddled together laughing and talking so you quickly ran back to join in.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

“what are you doing man?” jisung asked having walked backstage to see chenle with his face leaned up against the brick wall.

“kicking myself,” chenle mumbled back.

“why aren’t you with yn?” jisung asked and chenle groaned flipping around just to frown at jisung.

“because i’m stupid.”

“that you are my friend,” jisung agreed.

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

you hadn’t seen chenle for the rest of that night but day 2 of performing was today and you were determined to not let him just walk away on you again.

as soon as you entered the room your eyes snapped to the piano which luckily chenle was still sat at. he wasn’t playing just shuffling through his endless sheet music so you knew you wouldn’t be interrupting anything.

quickly you moved over to him, fixing your posture so your walk was full of false confidence and authority.

“chenle-“ you tapped his shoulder and slid into the spot beside him on his bench.

“yn,” he mumbled his eyes keep flashing to your lips making it hard to think about anything but kissing him.

“what are you up to?” your voice was as soft as his and was hard to raise above a whisper just as much trapped in a daze as he was.

“oh you know just um- piano” he smiled leaning to the side and accidentally resting his arm on the keys only to bounce off when they made a loud sound. you giggled at his actions and he cursed himself for ruining the moment but it had only made you want him more.

“that’s-“ you started not sure of what to say “fun.”

“yeah its um- can i kiss you?” chenle didn’t know where the confidence had come from or even where the words had come from but they were definitely there, they had been said, holy shit.

chenle was in panic, you were going to reject him, he was going to lose you, he was going to die alone and have 50 cats, wait maybe that’s actually not too bad-

“yes,” you hummed. oh. that wasn’t what he expected.

chenle cupped your cheeks and your eyes drooped close. his heart practically fluttered out of his chest when his lips met yours and he could already feel his palms getting sweaty. he dropped his hands from his cheeks and you moved yours to wrap loosely around his neck pulling him closer but that just caused your foreheads to crash together. with a giggle from you and a groan chenle you pulled apart awkwardly placing a hand on your forehead where his had hit.

“sorry,” you laughed, your smile huge on your face and so was his, as carefree as you’d ever seen it despite the pain echoing in his head.

“no, it’s fine,” his words were slow and breathy and sounded just as smiley as he looked. “but i don’t think gabriella would have messed up like that, or zac efron.”

your mouth fell open and your hands flew to your hips “SHUT UP!!”

144 notes · View notes

dirt-cup-draco · 4 years

Text

Draco x Reader- Caged

could i request an angsty draco x reader where they get into a fight right before the battle,, and draco chooses to stay with hogwarts and voldemort tries to kill him but the reader jumps in front of him last minute and somehow survives? super angsty but fluffy ending please 🥺

A/N: IM GOING TO BE HONEST. I completely forgot the fluffy ending once I started writing. I am sorry for what you are about to read only because I even made myself a bit sad.

Draco’s silver eyes were filled with fear as he held you close, hands warm and shaking against your hips as his heart pounded against your chest. Nuzzling his forehead against yours he let his heavy eyelids shut for a second, eyelashes brushing against your cheeks. “Promise me you’ll be safe?” He begged, tugging you closer. His voice was only a whisper.

You chewed nervously on your lips, arms strung around his shoulders, fingers tangled in his shining locks. “I’ll be safer with you by my side,” You croaked, voice hoarse and eyes stinging as tears threatened to fall.

Draco’s breath hitched and squeezed your hips tighter, trying to ground himself. He shook his head, nose bumping against yours, lips so close. Even being near to the one he loved most didn’t bring comfort. “You know what I have to do... Please, just let me do it. It’s the best option, the only option,”

“I don’t care!” You whined, moving your head to lie in the crook of his neck. “I don’t care what sort of option it is, I can’t have you risking your life. I can’t lose you,”

Draco smiled softly, letting his fingers run through the silky tendrils of your hair. “Aren’t we all risking our lives in one way or another? I don’t want to lose you either but if I side with Potter then I am putting you and my mother at risk... Whatever happens to me, happens. But the world needs Y/N Y/L/N. Let me do this for you, for us,” He begged as you pulled away, his hand snatching yours. He wasn’t ready to be parted.

Your eyes were burning with tears, the collar of his shirt damp from the few that had escaped and were continuing to run down your cheeks. “The worlds need you too, I need you. If you go to him then you are damned... Why not fight for what’s right?”

“More is at stake than my life...” Draco tried to get you to see reason. If he stuck by you, then you would be cast under the same deadly shadow as him and Voldemort would not be merciful. Of course he hoped that the future would be brighter once the war ended, but for now he needed to risk his reputation so that you could stay safe.

“You already said it Draco,” You fought back, “We are all risking our lives anyway, why not be by the people you love? A-and your mother! She can run, your father will take care of her. Please do the same and let me take care of you, let me protect you,” Your hands were back in his hair, brushing the unruly tendrils from his eyes that had dimmed significantly since the first time you had first seen Draco Malfoy, a beautiful, if obnoxious, eleven year old boy without a care in the world.

“Damn you,” Draco cursed with no conviction as he sagged against you. “I-I’ll stay with you if it’s what you want, but at the first sign of any danger I need you to promise that you will get out of there and go wherever is safest. Promise me and then I will stay,”

“Nowhere is safe,” You pointed out and Draco squeezed your shoulders hard as he forced you apart from him, eyes burning in yours.

“Promise me,” He demanded. “I won’t let you lose your life because of me,”

“I promise,” You finally conceded, kissing him like it could take away all the wrong in the world.

“Thank you,” Draco sighed against your lips. “I love you,”

You hadn’t known that the last time you would kiss him would be with a lie sitting sour in your mouth.

Lucius could see that Draco was glued to your side, unwilling to fall into Voldemort’s open arms. His grip on his wife tightened. “It’s time for us to go,” He whispered low, eyes following the Dark Lord as he stood before his followers and enemies, for anyone who didn’t side with him was an enemy.

“But-” Narcissa argued but Lucius silenced her with another squeeze to her quivering shoulders.

“He cannot be used as a pawn, which means our deaths, we must go,” Lucius hissed and his wife slowly came to the same understanding as he had. If Draco was loyal to Voldemort, then they would remain loyal as well, the threat of their only son’s possible death motivation enough. Yet, Draco had made his decision to stand against Voldemort and that meant they needed to make one as well.

Even if they were dedicated to- trapped by- Voldemort’s cause now, who was to say they would be for much longer? Voldemort was intelligent, knowing more than most how powerful love for a child could be. Narcissa and Lucius would become examples to Draco for his refusal. “Let us before, before they realize,” Lucius instructed, eyeing his fellow death eaters and feeling none of the kinship he once had as a young member.

With one final glance towards her son, Narcissa vanished with her husband, having disapparated from the war zone.

You had looked away for just a second but that had been long enough to lose Draco. Chaos had erupted, spells and hexes and unforgivable curses flying through the air as everyone fought for their own lives and for the future. Death Eaters were killing their children’s friends, boys and girls were killing adults they had never met once in their lives. Some of the younger students stuck near to the teachers, not knowing spells advanced enough to get them out alive.

“Draco!” you screamed through the din of Hogwarts crumbling. Your eyes burned with the dust that had accumulated, the debris sending plumes of it up into the already stifling air.

You ran past people you considered friends and men you knew to be your enemies. You dodged spells and cast your own, heart pounding with a a rhythmic beat that felt like a prelude to a death march.

Finally spotting a familiar shock of platinum your legs rocketed forward but nearly buckled when they saw what faced Draco. Voldemort was standing not ten feet from him, wand held by skeletal fingers. Two death eaters flanked him and they pulled out their own weapons once they saw you arrive.

“Get out of here,” Draco bit out, not needing to turn around to see that it was you. He could smell your perfume even if it was muffled by the tang of sweat and the gritty blanket of dust that covered you.

“No,” You said simply, reaching for his hand.

Draco’s heart dropped. You had promised, damn it!

Voldemort began to laugh, thin lips stretched across his features as his yellowing teeth made an appearance, jaw opening wide as if he was a snake. It was unnerving, his laughter sent chills down your spine and the look of him was inhuman. “It appears I will be killing two birds with one stone tonight,”

Your heart was stuck in your throat. “Y-You mean your men will be killing tonight. You wouldn’t do it yourself, coward,” You provoked him to tear his beady eyes away from Draco.

“Y/N,” Draco hissed low in the back of his throat, “Don’t,”

“You’re just a scrap of what you used to be,” You continued, ignoring how Draco squeezed your hand uncomfortably, blunt nails digging into your clammy palm. “For hell’s sake, an infant destroyed you. How does that feel? To know that one boy, one insignificant boy has ruined everything you are, year after year ever since the day he survived,”

Voldemort’s sickening grin grew into a scowl and the veins began to stand out through his pale complexion. His grip tightened on his wand. “You know nothing of the horrors I have wreaked on this pathetic world, girl. His voice grated against your nerves like nails on a chalkboard but you kept your shoulders square, eyes forward. You took half a step forward, Draco didn’t notice.

“It will be a pleasure to kill you,” Voldemort continued. “I will find far more pleasure in killing you before your heart even stops beating. There isn’t only one way to end someone’s life,”

Your eyebrows drew together in confusion for only a second before Voldemort was facing you, wand pointed directly between your eyes. With a flick of his wrist you found yourself immobilized, eyes stuck open as your body went stiff as a board. Your hand was stuck around Draco’s but the comfort had vanished. Your stone like body had rendered him stuck with you even as he tugged violently.

Draco lifted his wand to mutter a counter to your petrified state but with another flick from the bony wrist of He Who Must Not Be Named, his wand was flying high into the sky and far out of reach.

Despite your state, words unable to come from your frozen throat, Voldemort’s attention was on you. “Who is a coward?” He asked only once before with a vicious grin he was pointing his wands toward Draco. Your boyfriend was still trapped, struggling against you and fear in his eyes.

“I-I can still free us,” He promised, not realizing the danger he was in. You tried all you could but your hand was still frozen around his fingers, unrelenting in their grip. You were caged in your body and nothing would budge. Your key was Draco’s wand that lay too far away.

This was nothing like when you and your third year friends had been goofing around, freezing students on their way to classes, knowing the effects would wear off in minutes. Voldemort was skilled and you had no idea how long you would be frozen. You couldn’t even cry, you realized. Your mind was screaming and pounding against every nerve that had been shut down. Begging for something, anything, to shift and set you free.

Draco was still struggling, promising he’d help you when Voldemort cried, “Avada Kedavra!” He didn’t have time to move, didn’t have time to prepare as the curse hit him, his silver eyes flashing once as they found yours. Then, the spark was gone and Draco Malfoy was hanging limp by your vice grip. Dead.

You watched as Voldemort grinned, prepared to be next. Yet, the beast turned on his heel, his men following after him as you were left in your place, clinging to Draco.

“I can still free us, we won’t be stuck here Y/N, just give me a moment,” Draco had been saying before his voice had been stolen from him. He didn’t even see death sneaking towards him, he had only been focused on making sure you were okay.

Your eyes were fixed forward, unblinking. Yet you could feel the boy you loved growing cold in your hand, his weight heavy against your stiff leg. To see him might be too much. Within the prison that your body had become you were throwing yourself against the cage of your bones, screaming at the muscles and nerves to just fucking work.

He can’t be dead. I just need to move and see him and he’ll be fine, he’s just unconscious, he’s fine. You kept telling yourself, even if you knew it wasn’t true. Draco’s still alive, my lovely Draco is still alive.

You would be found by McGonagall once Harry rose from the ashes victorious, your weak body collapsed on top of Draco’s lifeless one. She’d bite her tongue, dragging you up with a strength she had to force. “Come now dear, there is nothing more we can do,” She’d say but you would only be able to reply with one truth that would haunt you every day for the rest of your life.

“It was my fault,”

Over and over, as the years passed. The same four words as you were forced into St. Mungo’s with no argument, sitting stagnant and letting other’s keep you alive, your own will gone.

After all, there was more than one way to end someone’s life.

#Draco Malfoy #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #fluff #angst #ask #request #anon #anon ask #strong ass perfume #lasting a war #god damn get me some of that

105 notes · View notes

shipmistress9 · 4 years

Text

FTLOAP: Chapter 48: Reminds Me Again It's Worth It All

For The Love Of A Princess Masterpost

Alpha/Co-author: @athingofvikings

Taglist: @drchee5e @hey-its-laura-again @thepixiedustfactory (If you want me to add you to this list, just say so. ^^)

* - . - * - . o O o . - * - . - *

If you want to support me you can buy me a coffee. I love coffee 😊 (Ko-Fi)

* - . - * - . o O o . - * - . - *

AN: How... how is it already almost three months later again? Time is a lie! xD But I won't apologise. Life is just absolutely crazy right now, and not just because of this virus. But I'm not abandoning this story, don't worry! :)

And I don't want to ramble here too much, but... I was worried how you all would take it that I implemented the canon events as legends. And I'm very happy and relieved to see that you guys generally seem to approve. ^^

This week's title comes, again, from Memories by Within Temptation. I've picked this title before I wrote the chapter and I have to admit that it fitted better to the original vision I had of this chapter than to the end result. But it still works and it's not that important anyway, right? ;P

. o O o .

“Do you think you can do it? Can you kill a dragon?”

Grimacing, Hiccup averted his face at that question. Killing a dragon… There once had been a time where this prospect had troubled him. It had been something he had to do, but not what he’d wanted to do.

But now, things were different. He'd already lost so much to a dragon’s attack once, and now could gain so much more if he did it… It wasn’t a question about whether he could do it anymore.

But… would he be able to do it?

“I get that it’s a lot to think about,” Eret said when he didn’t reply immediately. “Especially after what you just told us and in such a short time. The thing is just… You legally winning that title for yourself would be the easiest and cleanest solution. But we can prepare you as much as we want; if it’s more likely that you’re getting killed, it’s not worth it. Then we have to come up with something else. I’m sure there’s something we can do. There has to be.”

Hiccup pressed his lips together and lowered his head. Astrid was still sitting right next to him, her hand in his. So close. It could be so easy. All he had to do to be with her was kill a dragon. But after all his failures, he wasn't likely to be too optimistic.

“I don’t know,” he eventually said in a low voice. “I became a better fighter over the last years, I had to, and… and I have the best motivation imaginable.” Chuckling weakly, he lifted his hand to breathe a soft kiss onto Astrid’s knuckled. It made her smile, tentatively. “But I don’t know if I can do it. It would be difficult, nearly impossible . During raids and other occasions, we use special tools and weapons against dragons that make it easier to capture and kill them. If I had some of those, I think I could do it. But without them?” Gulping, he shook his head. “I’d need a lot of luck, and, well… given the past few years, luck is not something I would want to count on.”

Next to him, Astrid flinched. The fingers of her free hand painfully dug into his arm; she clearly didn’t like his answer. But as much as he wanted to give her another one – lying just to comfort her wasn’t an option.

“But you can build these weapons,” Eret objected. “I know you can, I’ve seen you work in Berk’s forge and you even managed to fix the music box. Just tell us what you need, and we get if for you.”

Hiccup’s gaze shifted back to Eret. He was grateful for his enthusiasm and optimism, that he wouldn’t give up. But in this case, just thinking positively wouldn't help much. With a tired sigh, he shook his head. “You’re right, I could build what I need. But not within only a couple of days. I’d need special moulds to forge the pieces, special tools I don’t have… It would take me weeks to build all that from scratch.”

“Can’t you get some of those things here?” Dagur threw in. “I mean, the markets here might not be as big as Southshore’s… but this is the capital. There’s a lot you can buy here.”

Hiccup grimaced, his free hand tightening into a fist. He gazed down at Astrid, tightly clinging to his arm and her face hidden against his side. He couldn’t give up now. Eret was right, winning that hunt would be the cleanest solution. And for Astrid, he was willing to try and risk everything. Whatever it would take.

With a heavy sigh, he turned back toward the others. “Maybe you’re right and we can find at least some things. So far, I haven’t seen anything of that sort though, and finding the tools I need, let alone the functioning weapons, might take just as long as trying to build them. But yeah, it’s at least a possibility.”

“All right, what should we look for?” Tuff asked.

He shared a look with his sister who added, “Tuff and I know the city pretty well. And we know some people… If the things you need exist somewhere in Volantis, then we’re your best option to find them.”

Frowning, Hiccup took a moment to think. “The most important thing,” he eventually replied, slowly, “would be a bola shooter. The best way – the only reasonable way, really – to fight any dragon is to first incapacitate their wings, if possible their legs too. If they can’t fly or move much at all, they’re relatively easy prey.”

“A…. what shooter?” The question came from Tuff, but except for Eret who’d seen a bola shooter in action before, everyone looked equally confused.

“A bola shooter.” He released Astrid’s hand to use both arms for his explanation. “A bola is a weapon made for hunting. It’s made of three – or more – strings of rope, all tied together at a centre point and each with some form of weight at the end, usually a rock of this size,” he held up his fist, “or bigger, depending on what kind of prey you’re after. If you fling it the right way, it wraps around the beast’s body, preferably around its legs or wings and renders it immobile.”

“Makes sense,” Dagur agreed, nodding. “But I don’t see your problem. Making such a bola doesn’t sound that complicated.”

Hiccup nodded. “It’s not. But using a bola just on its own, that’s not advisable if you’re out to hunt a dragon. Flinging a bola over your head is not exactly stealthy. If you’re in a raid where there’s chaos already, it doesn’t matter much. But if you try to sneak up on a dragon and want to capture it before it attacks or simply flies off? Not a good idea. So what I need is a shooter. It’s a device to launch such bolas without the eye-catching gaining of momentum.” His gaze wandered to Astrid’s servants. “What you would be looking for is–”

“Wait a moment,” Eret interrupted him. He got up from his chair and walked over to a desk, then returned with a sheet of paper and a pencil. “It’s not as if I have much need for letter paper anyway.”

Gratefully, Hiccup took the paper and pencil, and leaning over the low table in front of him, he made a quick sketch of what he needed.

“It’s a wooden or metallic tube,” he explained. “Wide enough for weights as such rocks and with a mechanism to launch them attached to it at one end.” He handed the sketch over to Astrid’s warder.

The man narrowed his eyes as he looked at the sketch then showed it to his sister next to him. She too narrowed her eyes, then the twins shared a knowing look and a nod.

“What?” Dagur asked, a little annoyed. “Have you seen anything like that before?”

“Maybe,” Ruff replied slowly. She inspected the sketch for a moment longer, then shared another strange nod with her brother before she left the room without another word.

Everyone gazed after her, perplexed, then threw Tuff a questioning look.

But Tuff’s answer wasn’t very enlightening. “She needs to check something,” he simply said.

Dagur snorted. “Don’t bother trying to make sense of their twintuition. It’s pointless.”

“I can hear you, you know?” Tuff muttered.

“So what?,” Dagur cackled. “Nothing I wouldn’t say to your face.”

Rolling his eyes at their bickering, Eret cleared his throat to draw Hiccup’s attention again. “Who knows how long Ruff will be gone. So let’s use the time to talk options. I agree, flinging a bola isn’t stealthy, but it would still be possible, wouldn’t it? Or how about a weighted net? I’ve seen you use those sometimes, too.”

With his lips pressed into a thin line, Hiccup nodded. “Possible, yes, but not advisable. A shooter would give me another advantage over simply flinging a bola or net myself. I wouldn’t need to get as close to the beast since a shooter can hurl them farther than I can throw them, and they could be bigger too as it can handle higher weights. And with a net, I’d need to be in a higher position to throw it on top of them. It can be done, obviously, but, yeah… It would require a lot of luck.”

Eret frowned but didn’t object and didn’t come up with some other option, either. Grateful for the break, Hiccup leaned against the cushioned backrest, relaxing a little when Astrid cuddled to his side without hesitation. She’d been surprisingly quiet throughout the whole conversation, and now he noticed just how tense she was; her shoulders, her expression, even her hands clenched into fists around his tunic. As if she was subconsciously holding on to something invisible.

It was strange in a way. But just like he'd drawn from her strength earlier when the memories of his dead family had threatened to overwhelm him, it now seemed as if she was relying on his strength in return. Even though he had no idea why she needed it.

He let his hand run up and down her back, slowly, comfortingly, and after a minute or two, she relaxed at least a little bit.

It didn't take long until Ruff returned. In her arms, she carried a large basket full of laundry which earned her confused looks from everyone waiting.

"You came to bring fresh clothes?" Dagur asked, a little incredulously. "Do you expect anyone to rip theirs off?" He threw an insinuating grin at Astrid and Hiccup, but nobody was really in the mood for joking.

"Haha, funny," Ruff deadpanned. She placed the basket on the ground and rummaged about for a few seconds until she found what she was looking for. With a satisfied grin, she glanced from one to the other. "No, the laundry was just for cover; I didn't want people to get suspicious if they saw me with this." She pulled an object out that had been hidden by layers of cloth, a smug smile on her face as she looked at Hiccup. "Is this what you were talking about? A bola shooter?"

Hiccup could only gape. Disbelievingly, he reached for the device when Ruff held it out to him, his fingers reverently gliding over the sturdy metal tube. It was dusty, the mechanism getting stuck when he tried to wind it up, but it was undeniably a bola shooter. It even was the same model they used on Berk, the size and length of the tube distinct. And the mechanism! It was just like–

Hiccup sucked in a sharp breath and turned the device around until his eyes found what he’d been looking for, a sign that was etched into the metal at the underside of the tube. A horizontal line crossed by three vertical ones. Or, the way he read it, ‘H H’.

"Where did you get this?" he asked, his eyes on the twins.

This couldn't be… It made no sense! How?

"What's wrong, Hiccup?" Eret asked, frowning, a note of worry in his voice.

Mutely and without looking, Hiccup handed the shooter over to his cousin. His eyes were still on Ruff, still waiting for her answer.

Ruff exchanged a frown with her brother, and they both shrugged. “It’s Astrid’s,” she replied.

Stunned, Hiccup turned toward Astrid, but she looked just as surprised as he was. “Excuse me?”

“It’s true,” Tuff said with another shrug. “It was in one of your birthday chests from three or four years ago.”

Still confused, Hiccup cocked his head. “Birthday chests?” he asked for clarification when even Dagur just nodded in understanding.

“Usually, there aren’t as many people here for my birthday as there were this year,” Astrid explained in a low voice. She sounded distracted, as if her mind was somewhere else entirely. “But since ignoring the Princess Royal’s birthday could be considered an insult, practically every noble family sends a gift every year. Nothing extravagant in most cases, just a sign that they remembered. Often, it’s some local speciality, food, clothes, or craftsmanship. I… some pieces I kept, and the food always gets eaten, of course, but the rest gets stored away, and…” She trailed off, shrugging.

“Exactly!” Tuff nodded. “There’s an entire room just filled with shelves and boxes full of stuff – for every member of the royal family. And there’s some weird stuff in there, that I can tell you.” He snickered.

Somewhere in the depth of Hiccup’s mind, a memory was rising, but he couldn’t grasp it yet.

“Very true!” Ruff said with a smirk. “Some of these things are great for pranks; it’s just a hassle to sort through them sometimes. Anyway, there are a few chests that are different… bigger. Sometimes, higher noble families don’t just send one gift but an entire chest full of various gifts. There is one in particular that contains a number of strange things I’ve never seen anywhere else. Clothes in an unfamiliar style, wooden carvings, instruments… and this weird fellow.” She pointed at the bola shooter in Eret’s hand. “We never knew what to make of it, but when you sketched your shooter just now…” She broke off, looking over at Eret as he grunted in surprise.

"Is… is that one of yours?" he asked, baffled.

Next to him, Astrid shuffled to sit up straighter. “Yeah, apparently it is. Even though I can’t–”

“He means me,” Hiccup interrupted her gently. He held his hand out for Eret to give him the shooter back, then turned it around to show her the symbol etched into the metal. “See this? That… well, you can call it my signature, I guess. I used to mark everything I made with this sign. H H. Hiccup of House Haddock.”

He shrugged, a little embarrassed. Putting that signature on his works had been an act of pride and rebellion, he knew that all too well. So many people had called him useless for not being a good fighter and not going after the dragons as he was supposed to. And yet, they’d been happy enough to use his weapons and devices.

Astrid traced the symbol with her fingers, her touch careful. “So… you made this?” she asked, visibly puzzled “But… how did it end up in that chest?”

Hiccup’s memories were all falling into place then. “I haven’t thought of this in a long time, didn’t even remember until just now,” he said slowly. “It was on the day the council had decided that I would have to prove myself in the arena, and I was… well, I was terrified, to be honest. Torn on whether I even wanted to kill a dragon and scared by having to do so in the arena, without support or the usual methods. I had just finished working on this shooter, but more felt like throwing it out of the window and into the ocean. What was the point of crafting all these weapons if I wasn’t allowed to use them? I think I was pretty lost, wallowing, and didn't pay much attention to my mother when she came into my workshop."

He had to pause and swallow at that memory. What would he give if he could go back to that moment, for the chance to talk to her again? To ask for her advice, or just to listen to what was on her mind. If only he hadn't wasted so much time only focused on his own problems...

"She tried to cheer me up and encourage me, said that she had faith in me. But I didn't want to hear that and in the end, it wasn't why she'd come looking for me anyway. She was about to send a chest of gifts to her friend, for her daughter's birthday, and wanted me to contribute something, too." His lips twitched into a rueful smile. "I remember how annoyed I was. What did the birthday of some stranger matter to me? I had more important things on my mind, like not losing my honour in front of the entire tribe, for example. Or my life. So I just gave her the shooter I'd just finished, unreasonably angry at the device itself for me not being allowed to use it in my fight against the dragon."

With slightly shaking hands, Astrid reached for the shooter to inspect it a little more closely. "Is it still working, though?" There was an odd tone in her voice, so quiet and almost trembling, something he couldn’t quite place. “I mean, it’s been lying around in that chest for three years now. Are you sure it’s not rusty? What if the mechanism jams when you need it?”

Hiccup took a moment to think, then nodded. “Yeah, it should still work. Maybe not right now, but it shouldn’t be a problem to get it to work on time. I just need to disassemble it, clean all parts, and put them back together.” He paused, trying to think it through. All parts were there, working and in his usual high quality. They shouldn’t have suffered much over time, and even if one or two parts were broken, it shouldn’t be that hard to replace only those.

He sucked in a deep breath, a confidant grin on his face. “So, going back to your question,” he said, looking at Eret. “Yes, with this baby here, I think I can do it. I can kill a dragon!”

. o O o .

Hiccup was itching to get started. Three days weren’t much time to prepare for the task that lay ahead of him, and he didn’t want to waste even one second. But no matter how eager he was to disappear into the royal armoury and work on the shooter, he grudgingly had to yield to Eret’s logic.

“You can’t go and spend all day locked up, working on some secret project. If you do, people will get suspicious, and we can’t have anyone pay overly attention to what either of us is doing.”

So he spent most of the day assisting Eret and Dagur during their training – which probably wasn’t that much of a waste of time, either. It was a little tricky as on the one hand, it couldn’t become obvious that Hiccup was training some techniques for real, while on the other hand, Eret and Dagur couldn’t put too much obvious effort into it. But all he could do was hope that the ruse worked.

Astrid was watching them from afar, but something was strange about her. Hiccup was ecstatic, even as his leg was acting up a little from the unusual workout. For the first time since Astrid’s birthday, he felt true confidence, for their future but also for himself. The plan Eret had come up with was good. It wouldn’t be easy by any means, but it could work. And even more importantly, it was something he could do.

But Hiccup noticed that Astrid wasn’t nearly in as good a mood as he was, even from a distance. She looked tense and anxious, even more so than this morning, almost constantly biting her lip. He wished he could go and talk to her, could ask her what was bothering her. But there were too many people around on the fighting ground; all conversations would have to wait until the night.

And until then, he had to use every bit of time he had. He didn’t join Eret and Dagur for their lunch break and instead spent the time at the armoury. And even though he only had about an hour, he made good progress with the shooter. It was years now since he last worked on a device like this, but it still felt natural, easy as breathing.

After a first inspection, he was relieved to see that nearly all pieces were still in working order. One rod was warped and needed to be pounded back into shape with some work on an anvil. Another was broken and he would need to replace it, same as a bolt or three. But all that was manageable, no reason to worry. If he used his free hours in the evening and on the next day without wasting time, then he should be done by tomorrow night, the morning after at the latest.

The good mood carried him through the day, even though it was a long and exhausting one. After his simple dinner in the servants’ kitchen, it was time to sneak into Astrid’s rooms again, and if it hadn’t been for this happy prospect, he would have just gone to bed directly. His leg hurt more with every step he made through the narrow tunnels as he followed Tuff, and it was only the thought of Astrid that kept him going. Of holding her, but also of the anxiety he’d noticed in her.

And when he entered her bedroom and Ruff closed the door behind him, it quickly became apparent that her mood hadn’t improved all day. She was still as tense as she’d been before if not more, sitting on the edge of her bed with her hands nervously fiddling with her nightgown.

"Hey," she greeted him. There was a smile on her lips but it felt off. It didn’t reach her eyes, even though the warmth and love in them were real.

"Hey," he replied. With a sigh, he sat down next to her, relieved when his weight was off his leg. Whatever it was that was bothering her, they surely could talk about it sitting, right? "Is everything okay?"

But Astrid didn't react. Instead, she frowned, her eyes not meeting his. "Your leg hurts."

It wasn't a question, but Hiccup nodded nonetheless. "A little, yes. With all the training today, that was to be expected. I should probably take it a little easier tomorrow,“ he added lightly.

She nodded, still not looking at him. Instead, her frown deepened and she chewed on her lower lip, thinking. "Do you want me to massage it?" she eventually offered.

Hiccup knew that he should decline. The pain wasn't that bad, nothing a good night's rest wouldn't heal, and letting her hands roam his skin wasn't necessarily advisable anyway. All too well, he remembered how that usually affected him.

But something was keeping him from turning her down. There was something in the way she avoided his gaze, how her hands trembled, that told him that, for some reason, Astrid needed this. He wasn't sure whether it was about having something to do in general or whether she craved contact just as much as he did, but it was there. And he didn't have it in him to deny her. Besides, a massage would definitely help, and coming from her would make it all the sweeter.

"Yeah, that would be great."

On her indication, he made himself comfortable in the middle of her bed, with his back resting against the headrest and the leg of his trousers rolled up as far as possible. Claiming that he didn't enjoy how her hands glided over his skin and worked the tissue and muscles beneath would have been a lie. It felt wonderful, both the relief it brought to his aching leg and the sensations her touch elicited in the rest of his body alike.

But as much as he enjoyed the massage, he also was aware of how anxious Astrid still was, of the wrinkles in her forehead, the tension around her mouth, and how her hands were trembling. She clearly was not okay. But since she’d evaded his question before, all he could do was wait for her to be ready to tell him what was bothering her.

"It makes sense now," she eventually murmured. She wasn't meeting his eyes, her gaze resting on his scarred leg, on her fingers tracing the ugly ragged lines.

"What do you mean?" he asked when she didn't continue.

Astrid swallowed. "Your leg. I... I've been wondering about these scars ever since you showed them to me. Not where they come from!" she quickly clarified, "But... It's just that I've seen the scars on your back. Those wounds there must have been so much worse than the one on your leg. And I always wondered why your back healed so well and your leg didn't. But now I know."

Hiccup sighed. "Yeah... my night in the forest really didn't do me any good. The infection–"

"It's not just that," she interrupted him. "A wound like this needs constant care to heal properly. Cleaning and treatment and fresh bandages and time. Bu-but if you got imprisoned and exiled, your leg got none of that, right?” Her voice was trembling now. “That's why it's still bothering you. Not because the wound was so severe or because it got dirty or even infected. It’s because it never got time to heal."

Hiccup closed his eyes and nodded. "You're right. I only got the barest minimum of treatment before they sent me away. And then, I had to leave quickly and couldn't risk resting for a week or even longer to let the wound heal. I was lucky I didn't lose the leg altogether…" He trailed off as the painful memories made a lump form in his throat; memories of cold nights in the northern forest, of hiding from thieving groups… and of being scared but at the same time not feeling worthy of even the care one of Freya’s temples would have offered.

Astrid shifted, finally looked at him as she reached for his hand. There was a shimmer in her eyes, as if she was close to tears. "Oh, Hiccup," she sniffed. "That... that must have been horrible!"

Swallowing, Hiccup lowered his head. She was right, it had been horrible. Not just because of what had happened, though, but mostly because he hadn't thought it possible that the Tribes' leaders, his own people, would be so callous and cruel. He'd always known that there were some who'd wanted House Haddock removed and even more had been in doubt about him. But he hadn't expected them to directly exile him without a proper trial. To all but execute him without solid evidence.

Astrid's hand was shaking around his, causing him to look up at her again. Her eyes were filled with sadness. "I-I'm so sorry for what you've been through. I wish there was a way to make it all undone. I wish I could spare you all the pain you've been through. And your family! I knew they were dead, but... but what happened to them – it wasn't fair!"

Again, Hiccup swallowed. "No, it wasn't fair," he murmured. He took a moment to take a deep breath and slowly let it out again. "But it's all in the past. What happened happened, and nobody can change it anymore."

Astrid nodded, weakly, her hand tightening around his. "And I'm sorry. For making you talk about them this morning. I can only imagine how much that must have cost you! If there's anything I can do to make it up to you or–"

Hiccup put a finger over her lips, effectively silencing her. "It's all right," he assured her. "You're already doing more than I can ever put into words, just by existing, by being here. Besides... I think it was actually good that I finally talked about it all, about them and what happened. I feel... lighter, somehow. I still miss them, of course, I do. But at the same time, I know that they will always be with me as long as I remember them. They are my past, and while I’ll never forget them… Thinking about them made me remember how happy I was. And it reminded me that it’s worth fighting for a happy life. For our future.”

Astrid sucked in a harsh breath. Again, she began to tremble, so much so that Hiccup pulled her into his arms to comfort her, grateful when she didn’t resist even though he didn't understand what troubled her.

“Hey, hey,” he mumbled into her hair, one hand soothingly rubbing her back. “What’s up? Why are you so upset?”

Sniffling, she burrowed deeper into his embrace. “I don’t like it.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?” There were many things not to like lately, and while he was reasonably sure that she wasn’t talking about their shared future, there were just too many options left.

“Eret’s plan. You having to hunt and fight a dragon. I don’t like it!”

Her words were muffled and it took him a moment to fully understand them. Then he frowned. “Why? It’s the first time we actually have a plan. Finally, it’s something solid we can do, something I can do.”

She snorted against his chest, a humourless laugh. “You know that you don’t have to prove yourself, right?”

“I know,” he sighed. “Not to you. But… I know that it’s stupid, but I feel like I have to prove it to myself – that I’m worthy of you and our future. That I’m not a failure. And I need it to get closure. I couldn’t kill that dragon back then and it ruined my life. So if I now can ensure our life together by killing a dragon… It’s like settling old scores, you know? Besides, Eret is right. If I can earn this title, then we’re going to face far less resistance. It will be easier, all things considered.”

She was silent for a few heartbeats, not replying in any way. Then she seemed to burrow even deeper into his embrace, her mumbled words barely audible. “But only if it works.”

Hiccup grimaced, glad that she couldn’t see his face. “It will work,” he then replied with conviction. “It has to. Remember what the Goddess said? That I have to do what comes naturally? Well, this does. This is something I can do. Even more so, it’s like this is a task that’s made for me, just like Eret said. I have the training and knowledge needed for this Hunt. This has to be what the Goddess meant.”

But Astrid still wasn’t convinced. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “I see what you mean, but… I just have a bad feeling about all this! As if something will go terribly wrong...”

Sighing, he pulled her up until he could look at her. “It won’t go wrong, okay? I won’t let that happen! Not when I have you to come back to.”

“But what if you don’t?” She sounded desperate now. "What if that shooter doesn't work? Or someone attacks you? Or the dragon you find is stronger than you thought? What if you don’t come back?” She shook her head, a single tear running down her cheek.”I don’t want you to leave, don’t want to be apart from you. It feels wrong! I just have this weird feeling about it, as if something will happen when we’re not together, someth–”

He cut her off with a quick kiss. He could see what she was doing, spiralling down into worries and fears. He recognised it, had been there often enough in his life. But thinking like that wouldn’t do them any good. “It won’t go wrong! Do you hear me? For some reason, the Gods need us for their plans, so it won’t go wrong. You’ll see, I’ll be back here before you really notice I’m gone. That I promise you!”

With a pained expression on her face, she shook her head. Slowly, she crawled up the bed until she sat above him, straddling him. Her eyes were sad when they searched his, worried, her hands coming up to brush away strands of his hair. When she kissed him, it was hesitant, careful even, her fingers against his jaw and neck trembling. And yet, it was full of an urgency he didn't quite comprehend, lingering desperation thrumming beneath the surface. Without a doubt, it was fueled by her anxiety, but why she felt that way, he still didn't fully understand.

When she deepened the kiss, he didn't resist though. Her tongue was delving into his mouth, seeking closeness and reassurance, while her hand roamed to the back of his head to hold him close, fingers tugging at his hair. She was trembling, whimpering. Clinging to him as if to dear life. And he just didn’t have it in him to push her away at that moment.

His body liked her squirming in his lap more than it should, but he tried to ignore it, focused only on Astrid instead. For some reason, this was what she needed right now, just like he'd needed her support earlier when he’d talked about his family. So he didn't deny her and instead wound his arms around her lithe frame, holding her close, safe.

And who was he kidding? Kissing her and feeling her so close was a joy on its own. She was so warm, so soft, melting against his chest and into his embrace as if they were one. No matter how good this day had turned out to be, being here with her right now, tasting her kiss and hearing her little sighs, was better than everything else.

And even though he knew he should, he didn’t stop her when their kiss grew more passionate. Her fingertips scraped over his scalp and wandered down to caress his throat in a way that sent shivers all the way down his spine. It made his hands clutch her more firmly, hurl her closer still, made him groan into their kiss, and made heat pool low in his belly. She was all he wanted, all he needed, all that mattered. And, Gods , he wanted her so much.

Without his help, his hands wandered down her body, gliding along the curves of her waist, her hips, and her thighs. The thin fabric of her nightshift did little to cover her; he could feel everything, every muscle moving beneath hot skin. He eagerly swallowed the low moans his touch drew from her, luxuriating in the knowledge that it was he who made her feel like this. It was something he hoped to never lose, the simple joy of making her feel good.

However, when she broke free of their kiss to let out a louder groan and she ground herself down against him in that clear search for more stimulation, he remembered that there was a line they mustn't cross. As if he'd burned himself, he pulled his hands away from her thighs, though only to let them land on her hips instead, holding her still.

“Astrid!” he implored, pleading in a low and hoarse voice.

A low whimper escaped her, but she didn’t move and only let her forehead drop to his shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I… I got carried away.” She chuckled, embarrassed and a little breathless. Her hands tightened into fists around the fabric of his tunic. “But you better keep your promise, you hear me?”

Hiccup tilted his head to place a soft and relatively innocent kiss below her ear. “I will,” he vowed, his lips twitching. He knew that she was referring to what he'd said a few minutes before, but he couldn't resist teasing her a little, if only to lighten the mood. “I will come back to you. And don’t worry, I’m not going to scam you out of all the nights I’m going to make it up to you, either. You might even beg me for a break every now and then.”

His words had the desired effect as she was chuckling for real now. Her arms slid around his neck and she settled against his shoulder in a comfortable embrace. “Just promise me that you’ll be careful. Promise me that nothing will go wrong. That you won’t get overconfident, that you won't take unnecessary risks, and won’t do anything stupid.”

With his hands slowly caressing up and down her back, Hiccup smiled, hidden within her loose night braids. “All right. I promise not to do something stupid. And don’t worry, I know how dangerous dragons can be; I won’t get cocky. I have too much to lose.”

“Same here,” she mumbled before kissing him again, though sweeter and lighter this time.

After only a few seconds, she pulled back again and even slid off his lap to cuddle to his side instead. Hiccup missed her warmth right away but knew better than to protest. This was not the time for intimate closeness but it would come, soon.

“So, what about that shooter of yours?” Her voice was light, but a little strained. As if she was forcing herself to sound untroubled.

Hiccup grimaced. He didn't want her to pretend for his sake. He pulled her a little closer and brushed his lips against her forehead. "We don't have to talk about this," he mumbled against her skin. "Not if it makes you uncomfortable."

Astrid hesitated, then sighed. "It's… okay. And I think I do need to hear this. I need to know that everything will work out."

Hiccup chuckled. "That limits how I can reply to your question. You realise that, right?"

She snorted, and he could practically hear how she rolled her eyes. "Well, if you tell me now that the shooter won't work then you won't participate in this Hunt anyway."

His lips twitched at her adamant tone. "The shooter is in a good state. A little dusty so I need to clean it thoroughly, and I need to replace a couple of parts. But those are all manageable details. Don't worry, it will be in perfect shape for the Hunt."

"Okay." She nodded, the movement soothing against his arm, and sighed. "Maybe I'm just overreacting after all…"

Hiccup shrugged. "I wouldn't call it overreacting. To be honest, I'm a little nervous, too. But I refuse to let that deter me. You'll see, everything will go smoothly and next week by this time, we'll laugh about all this. And then you'll have to admit that I was right."

She snorted again and shook her head. "Is this a thing of yours? Do you always have to be right?"

Hiccup flinched as her words echoed in his mind but in another voice, a little deeper but with the same playful annoyance.

“What is it?” Astrid looked at him questioningly. She'd noticed his reaction, of course, she had...

“It’s… nothing. Just… Arndis used to say that, too. Complaining about how I’m usually right.” He chuckled, even as a fresh wave of sadness tainted his mood. “Wasn’t my fault she always tried to go straight through the wall instead of taking two steps to the side and around it.”

Astrid sat up until she knelt next to him, watching him carefully. “Would you… tell me more about her? About your family? Only if you feel like it, of course,” she added quickly.”But they meant so much to you, and I… Well, I wish I’d known them.”

Smiling sadly, Hiccup nodded. He leaned back, his eyes on the ceiling as his hand searched for hers.

“Arndis was… a little pigheaded,” he began, chuckling. Absentmindedly, he weaved his fingers through Astrid’s, her touch so soothing and comforting. “She wasn’t unreasonable, just… She had her own mind and wouldn’t let others tell her what to do. Or what she couldn’t do. I told you that women in the Tribes have more freedom than they have here. But Arndis still was the daughter of the High Chief and Grand Duke and was expected to enter a political marriage one day, possibly outside of the Tribes. Our parents tried to teach her certain manners so she wouldn’t be completely lost… but she barely listened. She refused to even learn how to ride on a side-saddle, for example, easily kept up with father’s guards when they got drunk in the Great Hall, and was far better at wielding a sword than her knitting needles. In fact, she was better at wielding a sword than most of Father’s soldiers, I included.”

He chuckled at the memory and marvelled at how easy it was to think about her now, with barely any pain.

"Sounds like my kind of person," Astrid replied, watching him with a smile.

Hiccup nodded. "Yeah, I think you two would have gotten along very well," he said wistfully. "You're a lot like her, in many ways. She never had the patience to master an art like archery, though that’s for the better, I think. She was very competitive – not unlike you, if I think back to our occasional horse races.” In general, those were happy memories but he flinched nonetheless, hadn’t meant to remind her of Markor again. But Astrid didn’t seem to mind.

“Mmh. I wish I'd known her. I met a lot of other highborn daughters over the years, but they were all so boring.” She chuckled, then grew quiet again. “And your brother? Teitr? How was he like?”

Hiccup swallowed, and his hand in Astrid’s twitched. “Teitr… he-he was…” He trailed off with a helpless shrug, then tried again. “He was a surprise, in every aspect. After Arndis and me, nobody expected our parents to have more children – not even them. When my mother became pregnant again and gave birth to another healthy boy, it was like a miracle. And that’s how he got treated, too; he got spoiled rotten by everyone.”

“And by you, too?”

Hiccup’s lips twitched into an involuntary smile at her guess. “Most of all by me. You should have seen him… He was so sweet. Brave and curious and always so full of energy, so eager to explore the world.”

Next to him, Astrid sat up, and only when her fingers brushed over his cheek did he notice the lonely tear there. “You loved him a lot, didn’t you?”

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, Hiccup nodded. “It was more than just that, though, he added, a little hesitantly. ”There were many quarrels among the Tribes over the last few years and Father was always busy mediating between the arguing parties. So I often took care of him when Mother had other duties to fulfil – Arndis rarely had the patience for that and I always felt responsible for him – until I kind of… became something of a replacement dad for him?”

Biting his lip, Hiccup dropped his gaze. It brought fresh pain to think of Teitr like this. He’d certainly looked up to Hiccup – and he hadn’t been able to save him.

“Sometimes, he even called me Dad, when he was just learning how to speak and didn’t know the difference mostly, but also a few times when he was older, too, distracted by whatever he wanted to show me.”

He’d never told anyone about this, hadn’t even acknowledged it to himself, but it had happened. Yes, Teitr had been more than just a little brother to him, in a way. Telling Astrid about him, the woman he wanted to start a family with someday, felt both incredibly awkward and absolutely right.

He wasn't sure how he'd expected her to react, but a part of him wasn’t even surprised at how she took it. She wasn’t angry, wasn’t jealous, wasn't rejecting the bond he'd shared with his baby brother as ridiculous. Instead, she offered comfort for his loss, kissing him with the salty taste of sadness on her lips before she straightened to hug him close to her chest. And he could feel it, the sorrow and understanding thrumming through their bond. It showed him again that she was worth it all.

He held her close, his arms wrapped around her waist, and listened to her steadily beating heart until the turmoil in his own chest had settled again. It took a long while, with her all but wrapped around him for comfort, her hands soothingly running through his hair. She seemed to sense when he’d calmed down – or maybe he’d made some noise or movement, Hiccup wasn’t sure – and pulled back to look at him again.

“I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how that must have been for you. I mean… I lost my baby brother, too. But even though I mourn him that obviously wasn’t the same. I never got the chance to know him. So…” She paused, biting her lip. She averted her eyes and looked a little embarrassed, a slight blush on her cheeks. “I don’t know, I don’t want to come across as presumptuous. But I was thinking… Maybe, if that’s okay with you, then we could name our son Teitr. As a memento?”

Hiccup was momentarily stunned. All too well, he remembered the vision they’d shared, remembered the little boy Astrid had held in her arms there. But now, his mind made up details he wasn’t sure had truly been there before; an open but cheeky smile and a pair of green eyes brimming with life and curiosity.

He had to swallow against the lump in his throat but at the same time, he felt warmth spreading from his chest and through his entire body, not erasing the sorrow and pain but making it easier to bear.

“I… Yes, I think I’d like that,” he mumbled with something of a smile creeping onto his face.

When her eyes met his again, there was a deep understanding in them, a reassuring warmth, and just so much love. It made something melt inside him, and with a sigh, a tension he hadn’t known he’d held left his body. He leaned his forehead against Astrid’s, drawing upon her strength. If that was still possible, he loved her even more now.

“Thank you.”

These two words were too weak to express what he felt, but he hoped that she could feel it, his love and gratitude.

Astrid just hummed in response, tilted her head to kiss him lightly, and then leaned against his chest again.

They stayed silent for a long while after that and just basked in each other’s closeness. Hiccup kept caressing her back and shoulders until her breathing became calm and even, her warm weight against his chest telling him that she was falling asleep. Gently, he guided her to lie down, undressed toward a comfortable state, and slipped beneath the sheets next to her. Astrid only woke up for long enough to cuddle into his arms before her consciousness slipped away again.

Hiccup stayed awake for a little while longer, though. He wasn’t tired, despite the long day, and instead was content with watching her in her sleep. There was something of a tentative smile playing around her lips, but some of the tension from before was still there, her worries and fears creeping back into her now unguarded mind.

With a sigh, he leaned down to brush a butterfly kiss to her brow, then whispered, “Don’t worry, Milady. I’ll do better this time. This time, I won’t fail. I will kill a dragon! I’ll do whatever it takes, for our future. For you. I promise– no, I vow to you. This time, I won't mess it up!"

. o O o .

Uh oh...

...

In good news, the next update shouldn't take that long. It's going to be another interlude and it's already completely written out. And also... it comes with a "Minor Character Death" warning...

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unfortunatelysirius · 4 years

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╰☆☆ ℕ𝕆𝕋 𝕐𝕆𝕌ℝ 𝔾𝕀ℝ𝕃𝔽ℝ𝕀𝔼ℕ𝔻 ☆☆╮ [Sirius Black – Marauders Era] [Part 14]

Previous Installments: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13

╰❂╮ prompt ╰❂╮ ☾ ¡Original! ☾ With the perpetrator on their tail, and Sirius’s prejudices no longer something that can be ignored, relationships shatter and a safe way out is near unimaginable. ╰❂╮ author’s note ╰❂╮ Sorry this is so, so late. I hope the installment is to your satisfaction. AND IM SORRY IT’S SO SHORT BUT PLS, FEEDBACK WOULD BE APPRECIATED AND I’LL BE MORE PROMPT ON UPDATES. Will be updating Chocolate Frogs and Love Notes soon. Tell me if you want added to any of my tag-lists! ╰❂╮ warnings ╰❂╮ Angst, Swearing, Violence ╰❂╮ word count ╰❂╮ 2043 ╰❂╮ tag-list ╰❂╮ @kapolisradomthoughts @rageofcaliban @saucyleftovers @bunnymother93 @siriuslyr5 @apareciumimagines @random-quartz @ruefulposts @seabasstiantrash @starlightspidey @pinkettepoet @peppermintspecks @jiongyongguk @bethanystan @raindancer2004 @where-are-my-gummy-bears @cutebutnotinorcent

IT WAS NEARLY MIDNIGHT, and a disturbing sort of cold Y/N thought she might never experience in her lifetime, shivers up and down her spine within the dark, suffocating corridor. The stars were like silver dewdrops splattered across the navy sky, visible through each old window’s silhouette littered around the castle; with every passing step, Y/N caught another glimpse of Nature’s finest canvas. She was curled into Sirius’s side, squished between his subtly muscled body and James’s near-identical shape, both Remus and Peter trailing the three of them by seconds. It was reminiscent of times that seemed so far away.

Y/N thought it was all too good to be true. Everything, from her and Sirius falling back into same-old, same-old routine like they’d never left the honeymoon phase to James looking quite sullen compared to his usual upbeat, enthusiastic self. She wondered if it was all a twist on reality to make her think things were fine when really, Sirius wasn’t anywhere near, James still hated her, and the Marauders were leading her somewhere to hex and discard their latest “conquest.” It made all the more sense the longer she thought about it, but thoughts of the way Sirius felt—flesh, bone, whole—made her realize she was daft, and just a little bit mad.

He was so obviously here, a living, breathing wonder, and she was trying to make it a mirage. She wanted it that way.

Or maybe she’d just went long enough with things going wrong that miracles seemed far too good to be true.

“I have to meet with Regulus,” murmured Y/N into the quiet air, after the silence became a tad bit too smothering. She was also alert of her own negligence, from her delirious daze to her angry soul’s demands for an apology, as Sirius’s arm looped around her became a bone-crushing reality. Not so much a reality she craved anymore, but one that needed multiple bandages slapped across it; the Muggle way of rekindling old flames and licked wounds. Y/N was beginning to grow agitated and nervous, as this reality crushed down on her. As her newly-put-together world fell apart in the wake of unanswered questions. “He—wants to help. He thinks I was Obliviated.”

Sirius glanced down at her, looking unsure, his own face not betraying the inner turmoil running their world ragged. The two of them didn’t know how to approach their current problem, the one that kept them from falling together as happy memories asked them to; Y/N was afraid of what lay in wait, Sirius’s admittance that he thought so lowly of her that for even a millisecond he thought she might have been a slag, and Sirius dreaded the moment he had to let his betrayal out into the open. Neither of them were willing to ruin their reconciliation by simple, trivial ire, the kind that winded up someone alone and heartbroken, the kind that could get anyone and everyone hurt.

Even the most painful of thoughts were best kept internalized, if it meant staying locked tight in a dream.

Even now, the two of them were so different. Differences Y/N once overlooked in favor of what made them compatible.

“Regulus doesn’t care about anyone except for himself,” Sirius snapped at Y/N, the three Marauders looking nervous in anticipation for the argument to come. “He’s a Slytherin. The bloody git is tricking you.”

“How the fuck would you know?” Y/N was never one for confrontation. This was all new territory. She was tired, and depressed, and dying of questions; she loved Sirius, she did, but he was still the prejudiced, arrogant prat he was before they started dating. He’d always hate Slytherins because he grew up in a world full of snakes that rejected him for being who he was, and maybe that was a drawn line for why they weren’t meant to last. He was the charismatic, hateful railroad tycoon, and she was his subdued wife that tiptoed around his temper. Stupid, foolish—she was letting herself use another goddamned Muggle analogy—Americanized, no less. Maybe Y/N was running low on a lucid mind as much as she was excuses.

He knows nothing about Regulus, she thought anyway, looking into those silver grey eyes she’d always loved. Sirius didn’t. He refused to talk to his brother; maybe Regulus was growing into himself and losing that part of him that preened and prawned from pleasing his parents. If he was scared, if he was determined to find the truth because he wanted to sabotage dark plans, he never once betrayed it. But deep down, there was nothing else rational to explain his motivations, and Y/N knew he was a scared little boy afraid the monsters would someday catch up to him—

And they’d eat him alive like all wolves just so happen to do.

“Regulus is your brother,” continued Y/N. “He doesn’t want to be part of whatever it is your parents do. I can see it in his eyes.”

“You didn’t grow up with him. You didn’t see him do nothing when his brother was lying on the ground, with their father standing above him,” seethed Sirius. “Don’t act like you know him; you sure as hell don’t.”

Y/N felt like crying, as she wrenched herself away from Sirius’s warm, comforting embrace. “Don’t act like you know me,” she spat. Sirius’s jaw fell downwards, a flicker of hurt flitting across his face. “Go mope in your dorm. I’m getting down to the bottom of this, with or without you.”

Sirius was silent. Y/N continued to watch him, imploring him to say something, wishing he wouldn’t just let her leave. If she left, she could get hurt, and Sirius wouldn’t be her knight in shining armor. They went so long in turmoil that Y/N wanted there to be some sort of compromise; if they could argue and fight for so long, the two a mess with their friends on the fence on how to fix them, then they sure as hell could be soft and melted together, too. Maybe they were different, maybe Sirius couldn’t let his old ways go, but truth be told—Y/N always wanted to show him a new perspective.

She’d tried doing that before things went wrong.

“Really, Sirius?” she said now, staring brokenly at him. “We could finally figure this out, and you’re backing down? Really?”

“Whoever’s done this is dangerous,” Sirius told her. His voice had lost all its shake, all its fury, rendered a new sort of mellow Y/N had hardly ever seen from him. He looked like he itched to hold her and reassure he was just an asshat, but his asshat ways betrayed none of his true love for her, or his need to protect her. None, nada, zilch: right? He was a teenage boy, a prat, but he didn’t mean anything out of his pathetically unfiltered mouth. “I want you safe, Y/N. We should leave this to the professors.”

Those words were foreign out of his mouth. Y/N took a heavy breath and she said, “Sirius, do you even hear yourself? Merlin, what’s happened to you?”

“What’s happened to me? Me?” Sirius’s laugh was humorless. “You’re bloody mad.”

“Sirius, Y/N, this isn’t the best time,” said Remus, looking between the two with apprehension.

“This is the best time, Remus,” Y/N said, refusing to look at any of them. She knew Peter was fidgeting; she knew James was gap-mouthed like a pufferfish; she knew Remus was trying to hide his trepidation. She knew Sirius was silently seething. All of them, they weren’t clearly thinking. They didn’t have their nerves together. Y/N was terrified that solving the bottom of the mystery would never come if they fell apart before they came together. But Y/N could no longer go on if her experience with the love of her life was only going to be heartache and pain, two things she had felt since coming to this God-awful school.

You’re not any better than him, thought Y/N, her brain suddenly going to Ashton. He was dead, and she’d never get to see him again; she’d never get to tell him she was sorry, that she never meant to use him, that he was someone she came to love in her desperation to feel. He taught her about love. He taught her that it was okay to be without for a little while because wholes always regain their lost pieces. Maybe he threw her into an abyss after he broke her heart that left her sad and lost of all hope, but now, with her head on her shoulders again, she could safely say he taught her a lot—yet she gained nothing.

Y/N was happy with Sirius, but he did not teach her anything. He was a fun partner in crime, but when it truly came down to life lessons, he wasn’t a teacher; he was along for the ride, a mere passenger in a bus packed to the brim with faces from the crowd.

Standing in the hallway, letting these thoughts wash over her, Y/N could not do this anymore. She needed to find Regulus and reach the climax of this game. Someone was toying with her and her feelings, and if she didn’t put a stop to it, if she didn’t find a way to draw the villain out and stifle the madness, there was no way for her to get peace—and she’d stay stuck in an endless cycle of being a living ghost.

“I can’t anymore, Sirius,” whispered Y/N. “I can’t.”

She turned around and ran.

The Marauders watched after her, one looking horrified, two looking shocked, and the one this mattered to most—he looked heartbroken.

And none of them even bothered to go after her, as the guilt sunk in and they realized—

Was the love-potion maker truly the villain? Or was it them?

Y/N had stopped running after reaching the fourth corridor. She eventually stopped walking altogether. Her pace slowed until it was nonexistent, her harsh, shaking breaths fell into soundless sniffs, her erratic thoughts slowly but surely came to a close. All she could think about now was Regulus, who was waiting at the library for her presence. And that half-blurry, half-familiar memory of a white-haired girl in the very same forest Y/N was in herself

Y/N knew it mattered. She knew she’d been Obliviated, and she was foolish not to go to Headmaster Dumbledore for help in retrieving her memories… but she was a foolish girl, and foolish girls wanted to figure out mysteries by themselves.

“I’m a bloody fool,” mumbled Y/N to herself, clutching her head like that would heal all trace of confusion, as well as her sadness. It wouldn’t, but it felt like it did—so Y/N continued to grope at her temples and scalp. The corridor echoed with spooky creaks and even spookier whistles. Y/N felt regret seep into her bones, as she realized she was still a bit of ways away from the library—and she was totally, utterly, completely alone.

Y/N heard someone laugh.

“You are a bloody fool,” they said.

Out from the end of the corridor emerged a girl, whose entire face and hair were obscured by shadows—but the pretty little patch on her robes had a snake on them. Y/N knew it was a Slytherin. But all she saw was the patch, as her body and face were near invisible—and even then, the patch’s emblazoning was blurry to her. She felt her head grow light, her eyes squinting to see within the darkness. She was so caught in looking at the patch to even pay any regard to the words the stranger spoke or the wand as it lifted, pointing right at Y/N’s chest.

“Who are—”

The girl flicked her wrist. “Stupefy,” she said.

Suddenly Y/N was knocked off her feet by a powerful spell, the backlash sending her head cracking against the corridor wall, rendering her immobile and near-unconscious.

She felt her body crumble, but only half of the way—a steady stream of numbness shooting through her like lightning.

The stranger walked up, a laugh emptying from her mouth.

“Got you!” the girl sang happily.

That was when things went black.

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aboveallarescuer · 4 years

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How Dany assesses the counsel she receives and makes her own choices - Battle of Yunkai

This will be a series of posts meant to show that Dany is open to receiving advice and criticism, but that she doesn’t act solely based on what other people tell her to do. On the opposite, GRRM makes great effort to write a Dany who most often merges different viewpoints and/or finds her own solutions to the problems she’s facing. I won’t include every single decision she ever made (e.g. her decisions at court are often made without counsel and her execution of the ritual to hatch the dragon eggs was already exhaustively and deftly analyzed by other people), but there will be plenty of instances in this series that will prove my point nonetheless.

Since Dany doesn't receive a lot of advice in this chapter and I want to highlight her agency and skills here, I’m putting the verdict above so that people who don’t want to read the entire meta can at least find its synthesized points right away.

Chapter (s):

ASOS Daenerys IV

The advice Dany receives:

Both Jorah and Barristan warn Dany that she won't convince neither the Stormcrows nor the Second Sons to switch allegiances.

Verdict:

In this chapter, Dany:

Applies Barristan's lessons when she willingly chooses to assess the enemy forces and makes a reasonable guess of how many men the Yunkish forces have.

Has in mind that the sellswords, who are fighting on horseback, are more likely to cause damage and kill too many of her freedmen. (This will inform her plan later)

Embraces her limitations to mock those who will underestimate her for them. (And the author will give plenty of reasons to challenge the simplistic notion that Dany is just a young girl who does not know the ways of war.)

Applies historical knowledge to support her opinion that her forces will overwhelm her enemies'.

Maintains her self-composure and offers excellent comebacks when the captains and the envoy try to slut-shame and/or sexually harass her.

Is doing what she's doing for no other reason than to free the slaves in Yunkai:

She didn't have to worry about the freedmen's safety when they take part in the battle for her, but she does because it would otherwise render her fight for them meaningless.

She could have kept the chest for herself, but she didn't.

She could have taken other chests from the city like she suggests she might do, but she promises instead that "Yunkai will not be burned or plundered" (and that will bite her in the ass later in ADWD).

The only thing she requires is that the former slaves are "allowed to choose freely from among their masters' possessions" and that they are given "food, clothing, coin and goods". Doing this doesn't benefit her in any way, it only helps the slaves.

Outlines a tactical plan that is motivated by her desire to prevent a high number of freedmen casualties and that implies knowledge of:

The Yunkish forces' tactical formation.

The basic topography of the area.

Her enemies' weaknesses and how to exploit them ("I made no promises about tonight", "We will take them under cover of this darkness", "they will see hundreds of campfires burning").

Stays in the room while her captains decide how to better execute her plan. We don't know how much she contributed to the conversation, but it nevertheless shows her willingness to learn more.

When Daario shows up and declares that he and his men will fight for her, she:

Considers if he might be a spy, worries if there are others and is initially suspicious if he's just trying to save his own skin.

Only changes her mind when she sees that he killed the other commanders and that the dragons are fond of him.

Knows that she can't be too distrustful in general, despite the prophecies.

Realizes that the Stormcrows switching allegiances will guarantee that the Yunkish are overwhelmed.

Is more morally flexible concerning the sellswords than one might expect from a traditional hero(ine) fighting against slavery.

Beginning of the chapter

ASOS Daenerys IV is set in motion here:

Her Dothraki scouts had told her how it was, but Dany wanted to see for herself. Ser Jorah Mormont rode with her through a birchwood forest and up a slanting sandstone ridge. “Near enough,” he warned her at the crest.

Dany reined in her mare and looked across the fields, to where the Yunkish host lay athwart her path. Whitebeard had been teaching her how best to count the numbers of a foe. “Five thousand,” she said after a moment.

Even though her Dothraki scouts had already done so, Dany wants to apply Barristan's teachings and assess the enemy forces by herself. She estimates five thousand, which Jorah considers to be a fair guess. I would also note that, while it's not explicitly acknowledged that Dany would know how to describe the terrain the way the narrative does (in the parts in bold above), she is still sufficiently aware of it to concoct a successful outline of where each of her forces should strike the Yunkish later, as we'll see below.

Jorah notes where each sellsword company is positioned and Dany realizes that the Yunkai'i are located in the center. She asks if they lead slave soldiers and the knight confirms that they do, but they aren't equal of Unsullied. Jorah thinks they can "easily" defeat their army, but Yunkai has been forewarned, so any fight might result in more casualties than Dany is willing to accept.

Dany considered. The slaver host seemed small compared to her own numbers, but the sellswords were ahorse. She’d ridden too long with Dothraki not to have a healthy respect for what mounted warriors could do to foot. The Unsullied could withstand their charge, but my freedmen will be slaughtered.

First, here we see Dany using the knowledge she acquired from living with the Dothraki to make a more precise assessment of how her forces might fare against her enemies.

Second, I've seen Dany be criticized before for "breaking" her word with the slavers ... You know, these people who think selling other people is acceptable. This little fact already makes this criticism a moot point at best and slavery apologia at worst, but even then ...

Let's not forget that thinking Dany was "breaking" her word with the slavers means accepting that slavery is valid and that they have the right to sell other human beings.

Let's not forget that Dany's fear that too many of her freedmen will die is what leads her to decide to attack Yunkai and the sellswords when they don't expect it, as the passage above shows.

Let's not forget how awfully we see the Yunkai'i treating their slaves in Tyrion's chapters.

Let's remember all of this.

So, with these considerations in mind, Dany decides:

“The slavers like to talk,” she said. “Send word that I will hear them this evening in my tent. And invite the captains of the sellsword companies to call on me as well. But not together. The Stormcrows at midday, the Second Sons two hours later.”

Jorah thinks they might refuse the invitation, but Dany is quite certain that they won't:

“They’ll come. They will be curious to see the dragons and hear what I might have to say, and the clever ones will see it for a chance to gauge my strength.” She wheeled her silver mare about. “I’ll await them in my pavilion.”

I have no doubt that the previous reactions of the Qartheen and the Astapori to her dragons are informing her attitude here.

Negotiation talks

On my rereads, I've noticed that the negotiation talks in ASOS Daenerys IV are actually quite formulaic: a) the commander/envoy underestimate and/or insult Dany, b) Dany shows self-assurance and/or makes a threat and c) Dany makes a proposal only to be rebuked. So, instead of analyzing dialogue by dialogue chronologically, I think it's more interesting to display these patterns and focus on Dany's voice to highlight her rhetorical skills.

With both the Stormcrows and the Second Sons, Dany points out their blatant military disadvantages while embracing her youth and ignorance (because otherwise they will use these factors to hold her in low regard) and pretending to underestimate herself (because to do so right away means to undermine their propensity to do that):

“Five hundred of your Stormcrows against ten thousand of my Unsullied,” said Dany. “I am only a young girl and do not understand the ways of war, yet these odds seem poor to me.”

“It is true that I am only a young girl, and do not know the ways of war. Explain to me how you propose to defeat ten thousand Unsullied with your five hundred. Innocent as I am, these odds seem poor to me.”

The captain of the Stormcrows, Prendahl na Ghezn, is adamant that they don't stand alone, for they have the support of both the Second Sons and "the stalwart men of Yunkai". Dany questions if the Second Sons will stay by their side with such poor odds, but Prendahl doesn't flinch. Misogyny undoubtedly plays a part in his reaction, but there's also the fact that, as Jorah later told her, "[l]ikely he had kin in Astapor".

The captain of the Second Sons, Mero, doesn't even bother offering counterarguments. In his mind, since the Second Sons won battles with worse odds and have him as a leader, of course it will be easy to win against a "little girl".

With both Prendahl and Mero, Dany applies her historical knowledge to support her case:

“Woman?” She chuckled. “Is that meant to insult me? I would return the slap, if I took you for a man.” Dany met his stare. “I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons, khaleesi to Drogo’s riders, and queen of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.”

“The Second Sons have faced worse odds and run. At Qohor, when the Three Thousand made their stand. Or do you deny it?”

The first passage, in particular, is often quoted by fans, and rightfully so. All of the three men with whom Dany negotiates try to underestimate her on behalf of her gender and/or by sexualizing/slut-shaming her. It speaks volumes that Dany is able to maintain her self-composure and offer such an excellent comeback. She knows what happened to the last man who dismissed her as "an ignorant whore", after all.

In fact, that's not the only rebut that Dany makes for being reduced to her sexuality. Mero's misogyny is particularly insiduous for pretending to be flatterous while he's actually both underestimating her authority and sexually harassing her. That's why her responses to him are more threatening than to the others:

“If you bring the Second Sons over to my side, I might not have you gelded.”

“No need. After my eunuchs cut it off, I can examine it at my leisure.”

“So it is from you they get their courage?” Dany turned to Ser Jorah. “When the battle is joined, kill this one first.”

The last example is particularly noteworthy. In Game of Thrones, the writers have show!Dany tell her advisor to kill Mero first after he is gone. In the books, however, Mero tries to paint himself as the one that gives his soldiers determination to fight only to be undermined by Dany, who simply asks Jorah to kill him first. As we can see, Dany acts like a boss here and undercuts her enemies' misogyny multiple times.

Then we get to the proposals she makes to each man she interacts with.

This is her proposal for the commander of the Stormcrows:

“Once battle is joined, do not think to ask for quarter. Join me now, however, and you shall keep the gold the Yunkaii paid you and claim a share of the plunder besides, with greater rewards later when I come into my kingdom. Fight for the Wise Masters, and your wages will be death. Do you imagine that Yunkai will open its gates when my Unsullied are butchering you beneath the walls?”

[...] “Tell me this—are the Stormcrows slave or free?”

“We are a brotherhood of free men,” Sallor declared.

“Good.” Dany stood. “Go back and tell your brothers what I said, then. It may be that some of them would sooner sup on gold and glory than on death. I shall want your answer on the morrow.”

Later, Dany's assumption will be validated: Daario Naharis will rather "sup on gold and glory" rather than be killed alongside his commanders. I'll get to him later.

This is her proposal for the commander of the Second Sons:

“Then stay, and fight for me. [...] Coins can be returned,” she said. “I will pay you as much and more. I have other cities to conquer, and a whole kingdom awaiting me half a world away. Serve me faithfully, and the Second Sons need never seek hire again.”

[...] “Can I have a flagon of this fine wine to take back to my captains?”

“You may have a tun. It is from the cellars of the Good Masters of Astapor, and I have wagons full of it.”

“Then give me a wagon. A token of your good regard.”

“You have a big thirst.”

“I am big all over. And I have many brothers. The Titan’s Bastard does not drink alone, Khaleesi.”

“A wagon it is, if you promise to drink to my health.”

“Done!”

If Mero had been more thoughtful and less dismissive of Dany (who had already conquered a city and freed thousands of Unsullied at this point), perhaps he would have considered that she might have used their inebriation to her favor (she did deceive the Astapori, after all, even if she was righteous in doing so). Perhaps he wouldn't have asked for an entire wagon himself if he had taken her seriously as a threat. If she were a man, I'm sure he would have been more cautious.

Finally, this is her proposal for the Yunkish envoy:

“I have a gift for you as well.” She slammed the chest shut. “Three days. On the morning of the third day, send out your slaves. All of them. Every man, woman, and child shall be given a weapon, and as much food, clothing, coin, and goods as he or she can carry. These they shall be allowed to choose freely from among their masters’ possessions, as payment for their years of servitude. When all the slaves have departed, you will open your gates and allow my Unsullied to enter and search your city, to make certain none remain in bondage. If you do this, Yunkai will not be burned or plundered, and none of your people shall be molested. The Wise Masters will have the peace they desire, and will have proved themselves wise indeed. What say you?”

This moment makes it clear that Dany is doing what she is doing for no other reason than to end slavery in Yunkai.

She didn't have to worry about the freedmen's safety when they take part in the battle for her, but she does because it would otherwise render her fight for them meaningless.

She could have kept the chest for herself, but she didn't.

However, the envoy calls Dany mad when he hears her terms, so she has her dragons burn his tokar. It's a moment that GRRM wishes had been included in the TV show, probably because it has ramifications later in ADWD (namely when Dany is trying to make peace with the Yunkish and they won't trust her word for that reason).

Battle plans

I recently came across a good meta analyzing the Battle of Yunkai from a military standpoint. I will juxtapose certain excerpts (adapted as bullet lists) from that meta with passages showing Dany's actions and statements in the books to emphasize how capable a leader Dany is becoming:

“An hour past midnight should be time enough.”

“Yes, Khaleesi,” said Rakharo. “Time for what?” 

“To mount our attack.” 

Ser Jorah Mormont scowled. “You told the sellswords—”

“—that I wanted their answers on the morrow. I made no promises about tonight. The Stormcrows will be arguing about my offer. The Second Sons will be drunk on the wine I gave Mero. And the Yunkai’i believe they have three days. We will take them under cover of this darkness.”

“They will have scouts watching for us.”

“And in the dark, they will see hundreds of campfires burning,” said Dany. “If they see anything at all.”

“Khaleesi,” said Jhogo, “I will deal with these scouts. They are no riders, only slavers on horses.”

“Just so,” she agreed. “I think we should attack from three sides. Grey Worm, your Unsullied shall strike at them from right and left, while my kos lead my horse in wedge for a thrust through their center. Slave soldiers will never stand before mounted Dothraki.” She smiled. “To be sure, I am only a young girl and know little of war. What do you think, my lords?”

1. We know that Dany had limited knowledge about warfare (after all, she's only a 14-15 year old girl), but nonetheless she outlined a rough tactical plan which her captains did not hesitate to accept.

2. She used terms such as 'left', 'right' and 'center', which suggest that her outline was based on the assumption that the enemy forces would be arrayed in some kind of linear formation. It also implies that she's familiar with the local terrain and topography. Because if the enemy camp had been protected by natural obstacles (by the coast, a mountain or a river for example), Dany's outline would not make any sense and her captains would certainly have told her so.

3. She also seems to realize her own limitations when it comes to warfare and that the implementation of military operations are better left over to her experienced captains.

4. Dany's plan made common sense and the battle turned out to be a success: The basic idea behind her plan was to let the heavy mass of Unsullied handle the sellswords on the flanks, while the Dothraki attacked the fragile slave soldiers. She deceived her foes, took the initiative, exploited her numerical superiority and took them by surprise.

5. But her plan involved certain calculated risks: Trying to direct a battle involving thousands of men at night can be very difficult, it can easily turn into a mess, and the danger of sudden panic is always present. That is probably why her armed freedmen were held back: Their lack of discipline and lack of fighting skills could easily backfire. The Unsullied, on the other hand, were very disciplined and they were also trained in night-maneuvers. (x)

As we can see, Dany's plan shows that she knows: a) the Yunkish forces' tactical formation, b) the basic topography of the area and c) her enemies' weaknesses and how to exploit them ("I made no promises about tonight", "We will take them under cover of this darkness", "they will see hundreds of campfires burning"). Even more importantly, as the reviewer acknowledges, her captains accept her plan without any objections. This is commendable, considering that it comes from someone who lacks both experience and knowledge.

This quote is also relevant:

It took an hour to work out all the details. Now begins the most dangerous time, Dany thought as her captains departed to their commands. She could only pray that the gloom of the night would hide her preparations from the foe.

To which extent Dany participated or gave feedback in the discussion above is unknown, but we can conclusively say that she at least listened to which military operations her captains would later implement to take the city, which highlights her desire to acquire more knowledge. In fact, I would argue that the author chose not to give attention to this hour of planning because he would rather focus on Dany's outline (and character development). GRRM takes great pains to give Dany agency, portray her as a competent leader and challenge the notion that she is only a young girl who doesn't know the ways of war.

Then, something unexpected happens (though, as I said above, Dany had already considered that this might have happened, even if not 100% seriously): Daario is captured by the Unsullied and unexpectedly declares that the Stormcrows are now on Dany's side. @rainhadaenerys already explained why Dany's trust in Daario does not make her stupid for a few reasons that I'll sum up here: a) he had already betrayed the other captains and would gain nothing doing the same to her; b) having him and his 500 men on her side would guarantee that the Yunkish would be overwhelmed; c) because, despite the prophecies concerning the treasons, she knows that she must trust other people, especially since no one's loyalties are certain. I would also want to add that she makes several considerations before accepting Daario on her side:

“The Unsullied caught one of the sellswords trying to sneak into the camp.”

“A spy?” That frightened her. If they’d caught one, how many others might have gotten away?

Dany was dubious. If this Tyroshi had come to spy, this declaration might be no more than a desperate plot to save his head.

This is not the reasoning of someone who can be considered "reckless" or "stupid", but who is rather aware of possible negative implications. However, she also proves to be flexible soon afterwards: if Daario killed the other commanders and the dragons trust him, accepting his allegiance seems worth the risk (and it pays off). Anyone who dismisses her for being "shallow" here has a shallow reading of the text themselves. He's handsome, but that's just a bonus.

In fact, there's a Doylist reason why we shouldn't criticize Dany for accepting Daario - doing so would mean validating Jorah's opinion, which is not a good look. Even worse, doing so would mean undermining this powerful and more than earned moment.

Aftermath

Things go pretty much exactly the way Dany had planned and expected:

“Your Grace, I bring you victory. The Stormcrows turned their cloaks, the slaves broke, and the Second Sons were too drunk to fight, just as you said. Two hundred dead, Yunkai’i for the most part. Their slaves threw down their spears and ran, and their sellswords yielded. We have several thousand captives.”

And, as more proof (if that was even needed) that Dany was concerned for the number of freedmen that would end up as casualties when she decided to attack the Yunkish when they didn't expect it:

“Our own losses?” 

“A dozen. If that many.”

Only then did she allow herself to smile.

I won't comment much on the mhysa scene because it doesn't really concern Dany's decision-making. I will say, though, that their reaction shows that they are grateful for her actions (see above, again, how the slaves are treated in Tyrion's chapters) and that it highlights, once again, the righteousness of Dany's cause.

(I've already written about what mhysa means for Dany here and here. Also, because this scene is understandably controversial ... here and here you can find good posts about the racism in the writing of Dany's storyline as a whole in a way that doesn't mischaracterize her.)

How Dany assesses the advice she receives

I'm putting this section in the end because there are only two moments (and one goes beyond the scope of this post) in which Dany receives advice in this chapter. This makes sense: as I said, despite Dany's limitations due to age and experience, GRRM really wanted to highlight how influential she was on the outcome of the battle.

The one moment that we see Dany getting advice is after she meets with the Stormcrows and the Second Sons. Both Barristan and Jorah agree that she is probably not going to get their support - Mero is treacherous and Prendahl had family amongst the Astapori. There isn't much she can do but accept their warning, but I find this line interesting:

“It is not his reputation that I want, it’s his five hundred horse.[”]

Dany is a traditional hero(ine) in so many ways, so it would be easier to portray her as someone who is unambiguously and plainly wary of the sellswords' lack of morals. However, moments like this and the one later in ADWD Daenerys VIII when she finds that being "dishonorable and greedy" can be advantageous if she wants the sellswords to turn to her side show that Dany is actually quite down-to-earth and flexible and doesn't suffer from moral righteousness like some think. In fact, if Dany had that problem, I'm not sure she would have thought that deceiving the slave masters (justified as that was) and revolting against an entire economic system would be okay; it's more likely that she would have had Barristan's attitude instead (i.e., leaving the region behind while feeling empathy but doing nothing about it). It's also a little detail that shows how GRRM maintains her characterization consistent, for it would be easy to forget that aspect of Dany by the time he got to writing ADWD.

(Of course, it's not so simple as to say that she's okay with their immorality. She is suspicious of them - we see with Daario that she doesn't fully trust him nor reacted well to that advice to kill all the masters in the Temple of the Graces.)

#daenerys targaryen #asoiaf meta #dany and her choices #valyrianscrolls #a storm of swords

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