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wrecked-writer · 1 year

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Wild Sorcerer Merlin Au pt 1

Uther finds out about Merlin’s magic and he is to be executed

This is set around s2 or 3 so before evil Morgana

The gang ( Morgana, Gwen and Arthur) help Merlin escape but Merthur have a huge argument

“ I can’t believe you’ve lie to me all this time!” “I didn’t want to I just-!” “I don’t wanna hear it!”

In the end Merlin leaves with a bitter and sad relationship with Arthur

Arthur is inconsolable, his best friend and the man he loved trusted the most in the world lied to him! He is bitter and angry and so so sad.

The knights of the round table still come to be but Merlin’s role could never be replaced

Uther dies estranged from his children and Arthur takes the throne

Morgana’s dreams get so bad that she runs away to a Druid camp and is never seen from again

Years go by and not a single day has Arthur not thought of Merlin, even after his failed attempts at courting Gwen (she was always better off with Lancelot anyway)

One day while hunting they encounter a really bad and corrupted magic animal

They are losing the battle and as all hope is lost a magic burst comes in and saves them all

They’re injured and confused and scared but alive

A Druid finds them and after Arthur swears their safety, leads them to their camp where they are healed

Arthur watches the camp in wonder and is talked to by a Druid elder

She’s an ancient thing, skin so wrinkled with experience he can’t help but feel like a child in her presence

She is kind and patient

She talks to him of mundane things and he forgets for that moment that she is a Druid, someone raised with magic.

She hands him soup and warms it with magic. He wonders at that because never has he seen magic used for mundane and simple things

That prompts the knights to ask about that magic burst that saved their lives

“Was that magic you guys?”

The druids sit in a long silence before the old Druid lady comes up to them

“It must have been dear Emrys” “Emrys? Whose that?” “Oh my dears, who do you think has been protecting Camelot all these years?”

The druids then explain how Emrys has been protecting Camelot from several years now. They mention a few that they know of (the priestess Morgause being stopped several times) and talk of the many protection spells and wards that surround Camelot.

Arthur is confused and kinda terrified. Why would this Emrys protect Camelot, protect them, when they could be killed for even simple warming spells? What do they gain? Who are they?

The druids speak of Emrys’ power and how it keeps growing everyday.

“He visits sometimes, sometimes to set wards for us, sometimes to learn whatever spells we know, sometimes just for company. He’s a lonely boy, that one. The weight of the world on his shoulders and a horribly kind heart. You are fortunate to have him on your side.”

After dinner they rest and Arthur can’t help but think of Merlin and how he would react. He decides to finally lift the ban on magic.

They get back to Camelot and Arthur begins drafting the laws on magic use before lifting the ban

A few months go by and in that time Arthur notices the little sparks of magic protecting Camelot. He tries to make the laws as quick but as well as he could. He went to the Druids for help on what could be done to make more accurate laws on magic

He asks them on where to find Emrys, to thank him and ask for his help. And perhaps to add him to the court because someone whose been protecting Camelot so fiercely in spite of the dangers should be part of the council.

The Druids can only shake their heads sadly “He can only be found when he wants to be.” and leave it at that

Later Morgana comes back after about Arthur working to lift the band. Their reunion is bitter at first but when Morgana explains why she left they come an understanding with one another

She works together with him [and the roundtable] to lift the ban. When they ask her about Emrys she gives them a funny look.

“You don’t know?” “No, Morgan, we don’t. The Druids only say we’ll find him when he wants to be found”

She scoffs unbelievably “That blasted fool!” And storms out

No one sees her for almost a week before she comes barging back in the council room, dragging a cloaked figure by their cloth( who is clearly trying to remove her grip)

Arthur was angry with worry and demanded to know where she went.

“Where the bloody hell have you been!?” “First of all watch your tone when speaking to me. Second of all, i went ahead and got Emrys since you lot are too incompetent to do so” “…….THATS EMRYS!?”

They argue and bicker some more while Emrys struggles against Morgana’s grip, a misstep here leads to the cloak coming off

Arthur looks and practically swallows his tongue at who he sees.

It’s Merlin

#honestly not the best but I wanted to get the idea out my head #fanfiction #writing #ao3 #Merlin #bbc Merlin #bbc Merlin Arthur pendragon #bbc Merlin Morgana pendragon #bbc Merlin morgana #bbc Merlin Arthur #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #Morgana pendragon #bbc merlin Gwen #guinivere #bbc merlin Lancelot #lancelot du lac

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romione-trope-fest · 2 months

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3am

Fic Title: 3am

Author Name: Be11atrixthestrange

Selected Trope: OOTP Missing Moment

Brief Summary: Harry has some thoughts about his two besties in the common room late at night.

Word Count: 1172

Rating: T

Any Trigger Warnings: Nah

***

3am

At three in the morning, Gryffindor common room was dark and quiet, save for the bright crackling flames of the fireplace. Harry sat in an armchair across from Ron and Hermione, who were sharing the sofa, a single blanket draped over their laps.

Harry resisted the urge to close his eyes, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to prevent himself from falling asleep completely, and his History of Magic essay was due tomorrow. He glared at the illegible ink smears on his parchment. Hermione had agreed to look it over, but it was nowhere near finished, and she was still working on editing Ron’s. Between Occlumency lessons, Quidditch, and the stress of the magical world crumbling on top of his shoulders, a History of Magic essay seemed pointless and trivial, and there had been no time in his week to complete it. He narrowed his eyes at Ron’s essay in Hermione’s lap, and felt a twinge of annoyance in the back of his throat. Harry had legitimate excuses to procrastinate, but Ron could have finished that essay days ago. And of course Hermione was helping him before Harry.

His best friends thought he was the most oblivious bloke in the entire castle, but he wasn’t. He noticed the change in them this year; he would have been blind not to. He didn’t particularly love it, but it was what it was.

“Ron, this is looking really good,” said Hermione. “But I think you can expand the section connecting the goblin revolution of 1612 and the wand ban of 1638–“

“Hermione, it’s three in the morning,” groaned Ron. “I don’t want to expand anything.”

Hermione’s cheeks glowed pink and she rolled her eyes, but her tone was playful. “Then why did you give it to me to look over if you didn’t want feedback?”

“I just want your approval.”

“Well then, expand that section and I’ll give you my approval.”

“Why can’t I just be good enough for you?” sighed Ron, his voice airy and dramatic.

Hermione lifted a hand and shoved his shoulder in jest, and Ron made an act of clutching his arm and cowering away.

Harry cleared his throat as if to remind them he was still there.

“Harry, how is your essay coming along?” asked Hermione a tad too quickly. “Are you ready for me to look it over?”

Harry cocked his head at the parchment on his lap. It was half the length necessary and so far didn’t include anything about goblin revolutions or wand bans. And honestly, he wouldn’t have thought to connect those two events either.

“It’s coming along,” he lied.

Hermione nodded and turned back to Ron’s essay.

Harry stole a glance at Ron, whose eyes were intent on Hermione beside him, watching as she scribbled notes in the margins. Harry hated it when she did that, because he could never read the notes anyway and it took ten times as long for him to edit them out. Ron used to hate that too, but he didn’t seem to mind anymore. He watched her with a lopsided grin that made him look like a complete idiot. His ears were bright red and his eyes almost glazed over. When Harry tracked Ron’s gaze, he realized he wasn’t even looking at the parchment in Hermione’s lap, but her hair.

Harry’s stomach seemed to tie itself into knots. He could clearly remember that dazed feeling he got when he would spot Cho across the Great Hall and lose himself in a daydream, imagining talking to her, looking into her eyes, kissing her… did those intimate thoughts display as clearly on his face as they did on Ron’s? Or did he also look like a complete wanker?

If his utter failure at Occlumency lessons was any indication, then Harry was just as awful at hiding his innermost desires as his best friend, and the entire school knew how desperate he was to run his fingers through Cho Chang’s silky raven-colored hair.

As if reading his mind, Ron lifted a hand and brushed Hermione’s hair to the side.

It was an unexpectedly bold move. Harry raised an eyebrow and awaited Hermione’s reaction, which would surely be more interesting than his History of Magic essay.

Hermione side-eyed Ron and looked just as confused as Harry. “What was that for?”

“You had something in your hair.”

No she fucking didn’t, thought Harry to himself.

“Oh. Thanks,” said Hermione. She grinned at him and a rosy color darkened her cheeks. “And here’s your essay. I left a few more notes for you.”

Ron took back his parchment and took a quick glance at her notes “Thank you, Hermione. Dunno what I’d do without you.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

Hermione turned to Harry. “Ready?”

“No.”

She groaned. “Harry, I can’t stay up any later. Let me check it at breakfast tomorrow.”

“Fine.”

With that, Hermione removed the blanket and rose to her feet. “Okay, I’m going to bed.”

“Night, Hermione,” said Ron.

“Night,” echoed Harry.

She turned and made her way back toward the girls’ dormitory. Harry watched as Ron’s eyes followed her the entire way, the tips of his ears still burning red.

When she disappeared back up the stairs, Ron turned to find Harry still scowling at him.

“What?” His tone was defensive, but the color spreading from his ears to his cheeks suggested he knew exactly what.

“You had something in your hair,” mocked Harry in a high pitched tone.

“Well she did—“

“Sure, mate.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about.”

Harry laughed. “Yes you do.”

Ron shoved the remaining edge of the blanket off of his lap. “I’m also gonna go to bed,” he spluttered. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He rose to his feet and began scooping his things back into his bag.

Harry didn’t miss the crack of a smile when Ron turned away from him, which all but confirmed his suspicions.

“Okay then. Sweet dreams,” said Harry. “Not too sweet.”

“Shut up,” said a flustered Ron as he turned toward the dormitory. “And good luck finishing that essay.”

“Thanks,” said Harry, though Ron had just disappeared and probably couldn’t hear him.

Harry turned back to his essay and squinted at the senseless scribbles of ink, but his thoughts were occupied by his two best friends. He’d been preparing for this shift since the Yule Ball fiasco the previous year. Maybe he’d prefer it if the pair just remained friends. It would be easier. He’d feel less like a third wheel and they’d avoid the risk of a falling out down the line.

But there was something about the way Ron smiled at her and how she blushed when she caught him looking…

They looked like total idiots, but they were happy. Isn’t that what mattered most?

Harry shook his head as if to dislodge the thought. Goblin Revolution. Focus on that.

And Quidditch. Occlumency. Saving the magical world. Not dying.

Honestly, he had bigger issues to worry about. And they’d figure it all out. Probably.

#submission #ootp missing moments #romione

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whositmcwhatsit · 10 months

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Afraid

AN: It's been a difficult couple of weeks, so I wrote myself some fluff. Maybe you're in need of fluff too. If so, enjoy!

Written using the prompt: "Isn't that mine?"

@thatbanditqueen, @be-my-ally, @vintageshanny, @ellie-24, @from-memphis-with-love, @missmaywemeetagain

“I shouldn’t be here, I’ve got a History test tomorrow that I haven’t even started to study for.”

“Well, I didn’t put you in a headlock,” Shirley pointed out, pinching cotton candy between her fingers before she popped it into her mouth. “Anyway, so you fail a test, are you telling me you wouldn’t regret missing out on seeing Elvis more?”

“I’m just thinking about when my parents find out and they ban me from coming out.”

Shirley, whose parents who paid little attention to what she did, just shrugged and sucked in more cotton candy. “Then you’ll just sneak out, right? Plenty of the kids do it.”

Tina knew that a lot of the girls wrapped their pillows in blankets and shimmied out of the window to get into cars that idled at the kerb a safe distance from their houses, but she felt a pang in her stomach at the thought of becoming one of them. She liked her parents, respected them, and had always liked being the daughter they wanted her to be, but ever since she had found herself outside the gates of Graceland a few months before, that girl had been drifting further and further away from her.

“So, what d’you want to do now?” she asked Shirley. They had already rode the Pippin and the Rocket and the dodgems were off limits for the moment while Elvis and his friends tried their best to kill one another. She didn’t even like watching them for too long, it made her hair stand on end the chances they took. If nothing else, it proved how blessed Elvis really was that no one had ever been seriously injured.

“Ferris Wheel?” Shirley shrugged, tossing the last of the cotton candy and wiping her fingers on her skirt. Tina nodded and sighed as they wandered over to the huge ride that loomed up into the night sky. She let her head tip back as she squinted up at the top where the carriages swung in the breeze and let out another sigh.

As they headed towards the booth that marked the entrance, something hit Tina hard between the shoulder blades and she stumbled forward, grabbing onto Shirley’s shoulder to stop herself from toppling onto the asphalt.

“Hey, dumbass, watch it!”

Both girls whirled round at the familiar voice just in time to see Elvis give his cousin Billy a swift kick in the pants that almost sent him sprawling. He turned back to the girls, eyes roaming all over as he asked if they were okay and apologising for his thoughtless cousin.

“No harm done!” Shirley chirped, even though she wasn’t the one that had been hit.

Tina had to crane her neck again as he stepped up to her, looking impossibly handsome with his gleaming black hair and white sports jacket. He was wearing some kind of hat that would have looked silly on anyone else, but whatever magic Elvis was encased in had swallowed up that hat too and it just added to his look. There was a smile glinting in his eyes even though he was affecting a concerned frown.

“Are you sure you’re okay, honey? I feel like I need to make it up to you.” He looked around, surveying the immediate area. “Let’s take us a ride on the Ferris wheel, I should keep an eye on you in case you got concussion or something.” She opened her mouth to explain that it was her back that got hit, but her brain managed to kick in before the words started to come out.

“You don’t mind, do you, darlin’, if I steal your friend for a while?” Shirley shook her head, her face glowing with her smile, but as soon as Elvis turned away, her expression became an Arctic glare at Tina.

In a daze, Tina let herself be led by the hand, perching onto the seat and clutching at the bar as it was pulled down. Elvis leant over and called over the ride operator, saying something to him before they were lifting up into the air.

Tina wasn’t sure what was more terrifying, being suspended at heights that would mean certain death or sitting alone next to Elvis Presley. It was probably a draw.

“So, you’re sure you’re okay?” Elvis said, lifting his arm over her head and laying it across the back of her seat. He shifted slightly towards her and the car swung wildly. Tina emitted a muted squeak and squeezed the bar tighter in her sweaty fingers. “Honey, you don’t have to be scared of me. I won’t hurt you.” Tina couldn’t even look at him, convinced that if she took her eyes off the ground that she was going to magically slip beneath the restraint and tumble out.

“It’s not you,” she managed through her clenched jaw.

“Aw hell, you scared of heights, honey?” He moved again, she presumed to try and meet her eye, and she whimpered, feeling the cold sweat prickling across her forehead. “Why didn’t you say nothing? You were heading this way, I thought-”

“I’m gonna beat it,” she replied, starting to nod but stopping because any movement felt like too much. “Every time I visit I make myself come up here and I- I’m gonna get used to it. And I won’t be afraid no more. I mean anymore.” Terror is no excuse for not speaking properly, she could hear her mother instructing her in that earnest way she did.

“I do the same thing,” Elvis answered, so softly that she forgot herself and glanced over in surprise. His eyes flicked from the ground to hers, filled with a tender glow that tricked her into smiling despite her unease. “You know, every time I walk out on a stage or onto a set over in Hollywood, I get so scared, my heart feels like it’s gonna pound right outta my chest and I get this energy in my arms and legs that I think is gonna fry all my circuits.” He laughed a little to himself. “But I keep on making myself do it, play the shows, say my lines, because it’s gonna get easier the more I do it. I mean, it has to, right?”

Tina took a deep breath, as much as she could with the tight band of fear around her chest, and fought against the pull to look back down at the ground, which she sensed was a dizzying distance away now.

“You’ve performed in so many shows now,” she said, her eyes fixed on those warm, gentle eyes, “has it gotten easier?”

“Sometimes I think it has,” he nodded. She heard what he was trying not to say and sighed again. “But- But facing an audience is something different than heights. Being up high, it’s gonna stay the same, right? No matter where you are, high is high. Every audience is different, just ‘cause you went over okay in one city don’t mean they’re gonna take to you the same in another. The changin’, that makes it hard to get used to. Heights though… You’ll crack it, honey, I know it.”

Tina’s smile was more genuine now, she could see how hard he was trying to comfort and distract her and she felt a little like that silly hat with the upturned brim, encased in Elvis’ aura where bad things could not happen and nothing couldn’t be fixed. She was just about to thank him for his kindness when the ride stopped with a sudden jolt and the car lurched precariously at the very top of the wheel. She screamed instead.

“Oh shit!” His eyes widened as realisation dawned on him. “Honey, I- I’m so sorry, I didn’t know and I told them-“ He leaned over the edge of the car, trying to get the ride operator’s attention. “Hey! Hey, start it back up! Hey!” He glanced back over his shoulder at her and gripped her shoulder with his large, warm hand, reassuring her.

“I think it’ll be okay if you just stop moving!” she said, trying to keep the panic from making her voice sound funny. It came out sharper than she wanted.

“Just stop moving,” he muttered, turning round again so that he was practically facing her, his arms bracketing her. “Might as well learn to fly at the same time. Ain’t exactly my strong suit, honey.”

With what felt like superhuman strength, she peeled her fingers on one hand away from the bar and lifted it slightly, clamping hold of his forearm. She could feel the muscle tense beneath her fingers through his jacket. He went to raise his arm, probably to wrap it around her, but she shook her head sharply and pushed down, forcing it to stay in place.

“You hold on,” she instructed. “And I’ll keep you still.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmured, eyes fixed on hers again, reading them like pages of a script. She exhaled shakily and swivelled slightly in her seat, freezing momentarily when the entire world seemed to slip off its axis for a second. The inside of her skirt clung to her sweaty legs, but she ignored the discomfort of it peeling away as she slotted her legs around Elvis’ jiggling thigh, clamping hold with her knees.

“Whoa, good grip, hot damn.” She watched him visibly swallow and she grinned, forgetting which one of them was supposed to be nervous. Her final act of bravery was to release the bar from her other clawed death grip and transfer it to the arm he had laid behind her, squeezing his bicep on this side.

They sat this way for a what felt like a lifetime, her frozen against even the suggestion of a breeze and him pinned down, studying her face like he had a test on it in the morning.

“Elvis, do you know my name?” she asked suddenly. His eyebrows twitched suddenly as he realised that he didn’t.

“Well, there hasn’t exactly been a good time to ask…” His slow smirk was so beautiful that she felt her face moving to match it.

“It’s Christina, but people call me Tina. You might not remember the name, but I guess I might stick in your mind a little bit after this, right?”

“I’m pretty sure you would’ve anyway, Tina honey,” he replied with his usual charm. “But yeah, I think you might be right. I gotta introduce you to my mother, she’ll wanna meet the girl that managed to keep me still for more than ten seconds.”

“You’re doing really well,” Tina observed, noting that he had matched the grip she had on his right thigh with his legs bookending hers.

“You too,” he replied, cheekbones brimming as he glanced to the side, looking down at the small crowd milling around the ride. “You know, it really is a beautiful night.” She winced and he smiled a little wider. “You can do, it, baby, just a little peek.”

Tina turned her head in a slow, stuttering swivel, squeezing him tighter the more the horizon seemed to bob up and down. He was right, the sky was clear and the stars seemed especially bright. The low moon was so big you could count the craters.

“It is,” she agreed, “You know- Oh no!”

The ride suddenly cranked back into life and Tina shrieked again. Someone further back laughed like they thought she was playing. In the chaos, Elvis surged forward since the car was already swinging precariously, and wrapped his arms around her, hushing her in a low voice as she clung to his shirt.

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay, I got you, I got you.” She had her face buried beneath his jacket somehow, taking in his scent. Her breathing evened out and she lost track of whether the ride was moving at all. She could feel his heartbeat against her cheek, surprisingly fast like a handful of coins thrown down a stairwell, jangling and clanging with only speed and little rhythm.

“You can let me loose now, honey, we’re back down on solid ground.” She withdrew from the folds of his shirt, meeting the smirk of the ride operator as he lifted the bar. She had daydreamed the myriad ways that she might catch the eye of Elvis one night at the fairground, roller rink or movie theatre. She would use the precious moment she had his attention to convince him that she, out of all the girls he dated, kissed, flirted with, was the one he was looking for. Well, the best laid plans…

Scrambling off the seat, she swayed slightly as she hurried through the exit, looking for Shirley’s familiar blonde ponytail.

“Tina, wait a minute!” Elvis’ voice was different compared to when they had been alone up there in the sky, deeper and more authoritative. She had no choice but to stop and wait for him to catch up. “Honey, I really am sorry. I fouled everything up something awful. I don’t blame ya for wanting to-“

For a second, she thought that he was going to topple over as she surged up onto her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his mouth, but he only staggered back a step before he caught himself and her. Well, she almost kissed his mouth, the corner of it at least. There had been little time to aim accurately. She stood in front of him anxiously, waiting for a response, but he just stood there too with a little smile on his face and his cheeks pink.

“Uh, that was- I mean, thank you, for being so nice when I was being a scaredy cat up there. You could’ve made fun of me, but you didn’t. That was real nice of you.”

“Nothing to make fun of,” he shrugged, shaking off his embarrassment and regaining his usual self-assured stance, hips thrust forward. “Everybody’s afraid of something, right? Only they keep it a secret.” He wiggled his eyebrows pointedly.

“Uh huh, yep, secret,” she nodded, miming turning the lock on her lips.

“Anyway, you weren’t heading off home, were you? The night’s young and I feel like I gotta make it up to you-” He waved his hand behind him at the Ferris wheel. She bit back pointing out that the wheel was supposed to make up for his cousin hitting her in the back, so he had struck out two times already.

“I guess I can stay a while,” she replied absently, scanning the crowd. “I just gotta find my friend because she’s my ride home.”

“Oh, that ain’t no problem, I’ll get you home, don’t worry about that.” He snatched up her hand and spun on his heels. “Okay, so where to next?” She opened her mouth to answer, but he had already decided and she was just along for the ride. He strode over to a row of games, rejoining some of his friends who were huddled around trying to win prizes for their dates.

“Okay, you clowns, step back and let me show you how it’s done!” he intoned in that deep voice again. Everyone smiled and laughed and did as they were told. Red, who had been in the middle of his go, handed his baseballs to Elvis without a word. Elvis thumped them onto the counter and wiped his palms on his pants, before reaching up to remove his hat.

“Here you go, honey,” he murmured, plopping it onto her head. “You look after this for me and be my little good luck charm.”

The boys were ribbing him, saying he couldn’t make the shot, that he had a better chance of hitting the broad side of a barn or the barn side of a broad.

“Just shut ya damn mouths for a minute,” he scoffed, making as if to lob a baseball at them. They scattered like a shoal of fish in a racket of cackling and guffaws, before regrouping as he stepped up to the counter. At the back of the stall, wooden figures were moving along a conveyor.

“Watch me now, honey,” he said, turning to Tina and tugging her forward slightly by the arm. “You think about which of these prizes you want me to win you.”

Instead, she watched as the crowd began to form behind them. She wondered if he got scared in these situations too, yet another audience he had to impress. This reverie halted the minute he started flinging the balls at the wooden figures and they collapsed on their hinges one by one. His aim was spot on, every single one a hit.

“That was amazing!” she marvelled as the last ball met its target with a thwack. He turned, a small proud smile on his face and went to say something, but one of the guys made a crack about beginner’s luck.

“Beginner’s luck, my ass!” Elvis shot back. “Give me some more fuckin’ balls. Pardon my French, ladies, but this fool’s got me all turned up.” Tina felt her smile fade and she leaned against the flimsy wooden overhand of the booth, watching him obliterate the figures yet again.

Next, another of his friends accused him of being in collusion with the game operator, saying that he had been paid to press a hidden button to make the figures collapsed on their hinges. So, Elvis had the greasy, skinny man stepped out from behind the counter while he continued his winning streak.

It was clear that his friends were only teasing him because they wanted his attention, wanted him in front of them trying to impress them. And now that they had what they wanted, they were not eager to let him go. She let her eyes drift towards the other rides, catching sight of a blonde ponytail. She peeled away from the crowd, it wasn’t difficult when Elvis had barely glanced at her since starting the game, and tried to catch up to Shirley.

“Hey, where you going?” She only managed to reach the concourse before he had her by the wrist. “C’mon, Tina honey, you gotta pick your prize.” He fixed her with a proud, boyish smile that made her feel like she was being sour and mean for getting fed up waiting for him to finish.

Tina chose a big panda wearing a pink ribbon around its neck that Elvis promptly christened ‘Tina Junior.’

“Let’s take Junior for a walk, baby,” he said softly, clapping a couple of his buddies on the back and kicking one in the seat of the pants as he led her away from the stalls. The further they moved from his audience, the quieter and more attentive he became, the softer his voice too.

Tina followed blindly, smiling faintly at his twinkling eyes and Hollywood smile, not realising until too late that he was leading her to a darkened area of the park, an area containing the kind of rides that Elvis and his buddies were not interested in riding and so they were not left operational when the park was rented out.

“I don’t think we’re going to find anything to do over here,” she said slightly nervously, glancing back at the lights, music and voices.

“You’d be surprised, honey.” He drew closer to her, swooping in for a kiss that was thwarted by Tina Junior pinned between them.

“Damn, burnt by a bear,” he observed, taking it from her arms and holding it down at his side as he leant in again. His aim, as he had proved copious times, was always true and his soft, full lips pressed against hers with a feather light touch.

“Elvis, I-”

“It’s okay, baby, let’s keep on trying it and soon you won’t be scared no more.” His hand cupped her jaw and he stole away her breath so that she couldn’t protest again. Not that she could remember that she wanted to. Softly, experimentally, his tongue flicked against her lip and she drew back sharply, unsure whether she had just been the victim of a prank.

Elvis’ eyes narrowed. “How old are you, Tina honey?” Her cheeks burnt with shame that she had obviously given her inexperience away.

“I’m nearly eighteen,” she answered. In eleven months.

“And you ain’t never been kissed before?” Tina couldn’t parse the expression on his face, nothing fit exactly, almost as if there was more than one feeling swirling away in there. “Ain’t let no other boy touch you…” He placed his finger on her peter pan collar and let it deliberately slide down her chest, slowing as it passed over her nipple, which was pebbling and aching beneath her clothes.

“My parents don’t want me to date until I graduate High School,” she replied in a daze. “They don’t want me to get distracted from my studies.”

“God bless, Mommy and Daddy,” he murmured, blue eyes fixed on her face and his pouty mouth hanging open slackly as his hands kneading her hip. “They’re right, you know, you shouldn’t date until graduation. No boys, no one but me.”

“I don’t understand,” she breathed, as he ran the back of his hand steadily down her chest and over her ribs and belly.

“I wanna see you again,” he whispered, pressing her against a ticket booth and stepping in to crowd her, hips pressed into her petticoats. His mouth caught hers and his tongue brushed against her lips again. This time she opened her mouth as she inhaled and he took it as an invitation.

It didn’t feel like a kiss, it felt more intimate, more secret and maybe slightly wrong. She tentatively put out her tongue to meet his, letting him graze against it as he worried at her bottom lip. The ticklish stimulation was matched by the pressure against her hips and lower down. It felt he was poking her, but both his hands was around her neck and face.

“Okay,” he gasped. “Okay, we gotta take an intermission, baby, before the show’s over completely.” He stepped away from her and she felt a surge of loss coupled with an draught of cool air that swept in to fill the void he had left. She shivered.

“Aw, you cold, baby?” He shrugged off his white sports jacket and helped her into it. She could feel his warmth clinging to the lining, not to mention his scent. “Let’s go back, huh, it’s about time we got you home anyway. It’s a school night, right?” She bristled, but it didn’t seem like he was teasing her, not as he beamed down, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

As they walked back into the light, Elvis threw his arm around her and drew her in close, his wrist hanging from her shoulder, fingertips brushing her chest. They looked, she reflected with awe, like they were dating. She looked like she was dating Elvis Presley.

Elvis and a few of his friends drove her home in his Lincoln. She was pressed up against him on the front seat, and he was back to talking in that loud, deep voice he only used in front of other people. She let her mind wander back to the Ferris wheel and the way that his eyes had held her, coddling her with warmth and tenderness even in her stupid fear. She focussed on the way that his hand, whenever it was not shifting or on the wheel, flopped down onto her skirt, cupping her knee hidden beneath the material.

“Here we are, honey,” he announced, pulling up at her parents’ neat one-storey home. The windows were dark, which was a good sign, she reflected. “Want me to walk you to the door?”

The guys in the back laughed and she couldn’t stop herself from glaring at them. Elvis turned slightly and gave the nearest one a swat with the back of his hand.

“Ignore them, honey, they’re fools.”

“I had a good time tonight,” she said softly, looking only at him and his heavy-lidded eyes. “Thank you for-“ She stopped, mindful of their audience. “Thank you.”

“Any time,” he replied with his famous half-grin. “And I mean that, really.” She climbed out of the car and onto the kerb. Suddenly, remembering Tina Junior still sitting on the front seat and leaning in through the window to grab her.

“Oh, and my hat too!” she gasped, snatching it up.

“Your hat? Isn’t that mine?” he asked with a laugh.

“Hmm, well consider it compensation for pushing Billy into me tonight,” she returned, playfully sticking out the tip of her tongue. He laughed sheepishly and rubbed at his forehead, before shrugging an admission. Busted.

“I’ll see ya, darlin’,” he said. “Give Tina Junior a kiss goodnight from me, okay?”

Tina watched him pull away from the kerb as she wrapped her arms around the teddy, finally noticing that she was still wearing his jacket. It was too late to call him back, the car tail lights were barely visible in the dark, and it would be an excellent reason to show up at the gates tomorrow if he didn’t call like he promised.

It was time to stop being afraid.

#elvis presley #baby elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis x oc #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley fanfiction #50s elvis #whositmcwhatsit #writing prompt game

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spacehostilityy · 8 months

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NNT Rewatch s2ep1-6

(This was written weeks ago but was in my queue. I am moving back to my college town Saturday so busy days are to come but now I have things to procrastinate 😈)

So YAYAYAY time for season 2 (my fave season overall) !! I’ve rewatched this one before, so i actually remember some of this lol

Ban: I quit

Meliodas: your face is the only joke we can handle

HE GOT HIS ASS DAMN

i love both of diane’s orange fits, but s1 leotard hits different

i have thots abt the introduction of power levels that will be told beneath the cut

i mean it’s all very dragon ball (which i love, but in a very different way). I feel like they are just better executed in manga format, because saying the numbers out loud just kinda breaks up the flow of dialogue and action. Plus the numbers never stay accurate since the characters are always powering up and nakaba lowkey just stops using them at one point. so like assault mode!Meliodas has a power of 142,000. BUT he defeats enemies with powers higher than that and is shown to gain even more power. But this is the highest number we have for him. Overall, theyre clunky, not updated enough to be accurate, and just kinda cheesy :/ I feel like plot could have been added to justify and explain the eye of Balor (AKA Drole if i remember correctly) but it’s just used as an excuse to quantify the characters’ strength since this season is mainly focused on physical and emotional growth, as seen by the Ishtar Arc (one of my fave arcs hehe)

merlin’s friendship with hawk is actually so cute tho

so Meliodas’s beginner stats (still missing his powers) are magic 400, strength 960, spirit 2010. The way I see it, his insane spirit strength could mean one of two things: bitch is just hella determined in his quest to end their curses and protect his friends (likely) or merlin taking away his power only affects his strength and magic since spirit has to do with your mind (also likely) anyway what do y’all think?

how the fuck is gowther’s strength 500??? The average person who can lift 50-100 lbs has a strength of 30. HOW IN THE FUCK?? IS GOWTHER SECRETLY SWOLE????

Meliodas being like “no idk who the ten shadows could be haha” when he and merlin literally formed the sins to fight them and HE WAS THE LEADER OF THE 10 COMMANDMENTS is so funny like so tru king lie to their faces

the first thing Zeldris says is “3000 years... please tell me that he’s still alive” which tells me two things: 1) he doesn’t know about Meliodas’s curse, which could explain why estarossa kills him when he’s just going to come back a rival to the throne of the demon king and 2) the listed life expectancy of 1000 years for demons is probably not accurate lol

maybe it’s driven down due to number of battle deaths like the mortality rate of the middle ages lol

we are introduced to a demon who hopes mel is alive, shares a voice actor, AND HAS THE SAME FACE yeah the brother coding is very thick

AJSDBJKBHJEBFNWKFH YESSS THIS IS MY ALL TIME FAVE INTRO SONG AND ANIMATION

ban’s refusal to get jericho’s name right makes me laugh every time

Jericho: is scared and runs to Ban

Ban: 🤨 yeah. i don’t remember asking you to grab my arm🙄

im sorry but king rlly was a bad fairy king like mans didnt even know the forest was there 😭 its ok tho i love that for him

King hating Ban at first bc he “killed elaine and destroyed the fairy kings forest” only for Ban to pull THE BIGGEST uno reverse on him will never not be funny

wait does that mean ban is technically the 4th fairy king and king is both the 3rd and the 5th bc that would be rlly funny and does happen quite a bit historically

I love how as much as a smug asshole Ban is, he’s not rubbing it in King’s face and is showing him he’s still his friend

so if Gil is Margaret’s guard and Griamore is Veronica’s, does that mean Howzer was Elizabeth’s ?? bc that would be so fucking funny

Helbram got King’s ass with “and you’re short”

KASBDFNJBSDKF HE LOOKS SO GOOFY😭

MY BABYGIRLS ARE HEREEEE

Best girls Melascula and Derieri fr

i love that they said slader is gay, how can we let the audience know and then gave him the smoothest, gayest voice imaginable

merlin calling og gowther a great magician when we know he was the one to train her is actually so sad, i want to give baby merlin a hug

slader is hot, thanks for coming to the ted talk

how the fuck does he walk like this tho??

is there a reason i just don’t remember why they never really bring up albions again or do they just ~disappear~ conveniently from the story lol

So the whole concept of sacred treasures is really cool to me because they are clearly something unique to the Sins, despite all of the sacred treasures being very different and made of different materials. I mean Gowther’s is straight up made of light Still, them having weapons that serve as a constant and grow with them as they become more powerful is just a neat concept to me. I just wish we could have seen Ban use Courechouse more than just a few episodes. There really isn’t a plot reason he couldn’t have had it beforehand.

Gerheade being a bitch to Ban bc he’s a human makes literally no sense when we learn her backstory with Rou. Like NO sense at all lol

I honestly love that Meliodas destroyed the albion on his own. Like yes, he is my OP blorbo BUT he’s also supposed to be incredibly powerful in canon, which we haven’t seen him go all out with an enemy yet. Not only does he know all about albions (bc he’s a demon), but as leader of the 10 Commandments, he probably was on the controlling side of the golems. Then, as a member of Stigma, he fought against them. Not to mention, this is when he finally gets Lostvayne (the DEMON sword) back. This moment for me is when he gets to show off the perks of him being a powerful and high ranking demon. Might fuck around and do a full post later on Meliodas’s relationship to his own race and what/who he is lol

Ban screaming “you bitch!!” is... a wonderful experience

Yass king (hehehehe get it? bc his name is king? hehehe)

Galand petting Gloxinia is actually so cute lol

Merlin covering Arthur’s eyes 😭😭 she’s his mom fr

“its been a while meliodas” oop galand just let the Meliodas is 3000 years old cat out of the bag ehehe

(stay with me bc im about to get delusional) WAIT so galand says “to think that after all this time has passed youd still be in that form” in this essay i will prove that Meliodas looks like a young teenager because he essentially is biologically young for the demon race. Galand doesn’t know Mel was cursed, so he would think that he had aged in the past 3000 years. Plus, I think the demon king’s possession of Meliodas AND Zeldris can be (somewhat) compared to Sariel’s aging up of Solaseed. Anyway, i feel like this can support my hypothesis of Zeldris and Meliodas are just babies who will eventually look like adults. Also, I think them being super young just enhances the angst quite well.

everyone is fucking terrified of galand but hes just a silly foolish little fellow to me lol

ban and king being brothers-in-law makes my heart happy like theyre so cute

Ban threatening Gerheade and actually being pissed and serious has suddenly reminded me that if i saw a grown ass man who couldn’t die and was a 7 foot tall violent alcoholic i would be fucking terrified

like a demon 14 year old? creepy ig but not a 7 foot tall masochist with an 8 pack

I love how hard Diane always goes for the ones she loves, she’s just so devoted and passionate Best Girl tm behavior

*Merlin being incredibly confidant and nonchalant starting a proposition*

Meanwhile Merlin’s thoughts: SHIT SHIT I HAVE 10 SECONDS TO THINK BEFORE EVERYONE I LIKE DIES

Meliodas doing the same thing Hendy did by reattaching his fucking arms using Darkness and the sins still being like wait?? is Meliodas?? a... demon ??? 🤨

okay so we DO see him in this mode again. But what is it called? and why does he become no thots head empty? its not like he died. and even in assault mode, he has thoughts and emotions (when they’re not stuck in purgatory)

Im ngl, i forgot everything about this episode entirely lol

obvi i hate that derieri died, but at least the souls she fucking ate got returned lol

do we think arthur has a tiny teenage gay crush on meliodas? Discuss.

(the answer is yes ehehe)

gowther walking around with his dang a lang swangin hehe

Gil crying in annoyance and defeat as griamore and howzer bicker is literally so hashtag real

HENDYYY MY BABYGIRL IS BACK BAYBAYYYY

very suddenly realized that Hendy’s probably only like in his 30s. Mans is just not that old

exactly 3 seconds after I had that though Howzer calls him old man LOLLL

i forgot about hendy’s childhood trauma. damn. thats actually rlly sad :/

look how cute he is tho 😭😭

hendy and dreyfus are in love. thanks for coming to another one of my ted talks

so do we think dreyfus is half druid (and zaratras is full) or zaratras is half druid? i mean they’re half brothers but only one is a called a druid sooo

IM SORRY BUT THIS IS THE FUNNIEST FUCKING SCREENSHOT ASDFFHSLDH elizabeth scandalized, meliodas accepting his fate, slader leaning in closer and blushing ITS JUST SO GOOD

The ass shot of Diane 🤨😑

Damn Idk how i never realized that all of them pretty much only call Meliodas captain. Merlin, Ban, and Elizabeth are the only ones who will call him Meliodas, but even merlin and ban typically go with captain.

“im a giant, why arent you afraid of me?” hes a fucking demon. lol

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leviathans-watching · 1 year

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CHHW - 02

intro post/m.list | wc: 1.5k | next

a/n: i think im just gonna throw this up here when i have time/nothign else to post and then as i post when it catches up to ao3. ofc if you're impatient here's the ao3 link lol

get added to the taglist

Trailing your finger along the spines of the books in front of you, you methodically search for the one you’re looking for. So lost in your perusing, you don’t notice that someone else has entered the library until they cough, frightfully close behind you. Gasping, you whirl around, hand instinctively darting to the small dagger tucked into your skirt pockets. The inclusion of pockets had been suggested long ago by one of your stableboys and many times you’ve sent him thoughts of thanks because of it.

“I apologize,” Lord Satan says, holding out a placating hand. “I did not intend to startle you.”

“Don’t trouble yourself over it,” you reply, giving him a smile. “I was lost in thought. Was there something you needed?”

Lord Satan’s compelling green eyes flick from you to the books behind you. “I noticed that you’ve been looking for a book for some time. I’m more than willing to provide assistance if you need any.”

“Oh, would you?” you ask excitedly. “I’m still getting used to the organizational system here. And if anyone knows where it’s located, it’s probably you.”

“You flatter me.” Lord Satan tilts his head slightly. “Now, what title are you looking for?”

“It’s titled Grimorium Verium. Are you familiar with it?”

“I am,” Lord Satan replies, lips pursing slightly. “My question is, what do you need with it? A grimoire on Black Magic isn’t exactly light reading.”

Raising your eyebrows, you click your tongue at the lord. “Passing judgment on others’ reading habits? Interesting choice, Lord Satan. Why, just the other day I saw you with a copy of Heptameron.”

Lord Satan stiffens slightly, perhaps uncomfortable with the fact that you had seen him. He hadn’t exactly been in a well-traveled place at the time and you wondered if Lord Simeon knew he was studying up on angel magic, and if he didn’t, what he would think if he did know.

“And when, pray tell, did you see me with that?”

You wink, pressing a finger to your lips. “Ah ah, some secrets are still mine. Anyway, I want it because it was recommended to me back in the human realm but since it’s so heavily restricted there I haven’t been able to get my hands on it. I had been hoping the Devildom has less of a ban on books, but perhaps I was mistaken?”

“No,” Lord Satan says after a moment. “You weren’t. I’m just unused to humans searching for dark matter. If you follow me I can show you where it is.”

“That would be delightful,” you say, accepting the arm he offers you. “And while we’re here, if you’d be so kind as to share any recommendations with me I would be immensely grateful.”

“Topic preferences?” Lord Satan asks as he walks you through the towering shelves and displays.

“None,” you reply. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy whatever you found worth reading.”

You leave the library with a copy of Grimorium Verum, along with a few other books handpicked for you by the Avatar of Wrath. They were thick, with small text, and Lord Satan had warned you some weren’t translated to English, but you had accepted them anyway. The RAD library is a veritable treasure trove of information and you planned to wring everything you could out of it in the year that you had. It would be foolish not to.

On your way to the House of Lamentation, you see two familiar figures on the street, weaving in between the carriages and carts.

“Hello,” you call, waving them down. Lord Simeon and Sir Solomon were becoming more and more familiar to you, and you’ve found yourself enjoying their presence as you get to know them better. “Lovely afternoon, is it not?”

“Hello, Lady F/N,” Sir Solomon greets warmly. “It is. Were you running errands?”

“Oh, no,” you say with a laugh, lifting the pile of books in your arms. “I was merely at the library. Lord Satan suggested some books for me so I’m excited to read them.”

Lord Simeon examines the books in your grasp, a small furrow appearing between his brows. “Did you say Lord Satan suggested them?”

“Yes,” you reply. “He was kind enough to recommend them to me when I asked. Is something the matter?”

Lord Simeon starts, looking up at you hastily. “No, it’s just…”

“Just?” you prompt after a moment, wondering if he too was going to criticize your choice in literature. Lord Simeon turns to Sir Solomon for a brief moment, who, you note, looks entirely too amused by a situation that you’re confused by.

“It’s just that when Lord Satan and I last spoke, he mentioned one of the titles you hold. Specifically how dense and, er, boring he found it.”

“Oh,” you say after a moment.

“I did not mean to upset you, my lady,” Lord Simeon says, and you laugh.

“My lord, you have not. Thank you for the concern, and the truth.” You sigh. “It appears that Lord Satan is either testing me or playing a cruel prank. That is unfortunate, considering I had truly hoped to gain some insight from his favorite reading materials. It is of no matter, though,” you continue, squaring your shoulders, “for I shall finish them all and force him into a long-winded and in-depth discussion about their contents.”

Sir Solomon barks a laugh, eying you appreciatively. “That’s a response I hadn’t expected. My lady, you are truly full of surprises.”

“Well, I wish you luck in the matter,” Lord Simeon says. “I am sorry that Lord Satan found it appropriate to do such a thing.”

“Oh, no need to apologize,” you say airily. “You are not the one at fault. And in my opinion, any book written is worth reading, even if it is only to confirm how useless it is. Anyway, I must be on my way, but it was a pleasure running into you both, as always.”

“You as well,” Sir Solomon says with a small bow. “Please, let me know how it goes with Lord Satan. And I am fairly well-versed in many subjects so if you want someone to actually give you recommendations, I’d be more than willing.”

“I’m sure I’ll take you up on that offer,” you say, and soon enough you’re alone once more, striding down the cobblestone path.

A few days later finds you sitting in the garden, sipping a cup of fragrant tea as you skim through one of the books Lord Satan had given you. He was correct; they are all frightfully dense and boring, but you’re powering through. Though your hands itch to flip open Grumorium Verum, you know if you do, you’ll fail to come back to the other titles.

“Oh, Lady F/N,” Lord Asmodeus trills, entering your line of vision. His waistcoat and pants are a crisp white, and his cravat is a beautiful shade of blue, a nice pop of color. As with every time you’ve seen him, he looks impeccably put together, wearing the garments like a second skin. “I hadn’t expected to run into you out here. What have you been up to?”

You delicately mark your place in the book, closing it. “Only a bit of reading. And you?”

Lord Asmodeus sighs, slumping down. “Oh, nothing in particular. I just saw how nice it was today and decided a walk in the gardens would do me much good.”

“It is quite lovely,” you remark. “Would you care for some tea and cookies?”

“As much as I’d love to spend some time with you, my lady,” Lord Asmodeus sighs, “I do have some business to attend to shortly. Good luck on your reading!”

“Thank you, my lord.” You watch him stroll off, a small smile on your face. Your interactions with the fifth-born always leave you in a pleasant mood. After a moment, you devote yourself back to your reading.

“Asmo said I might find you out here,” a calm voice calls a few minutes later, and you look up to be met with Lord Satan. “Doing a bit of reading?”

Lord Simeon’s words echo in your head and you give Lord Satan an inviting smile. “I am! I’ve been making my way through your recommendations.”

“Have you?”

“Oh, yes,” you say, gesturing for Lord Satan to sit. “They’re not what I imagined your style to be, but if you liked them there must be some merit to them, of course. What did you think of the assertions made in Ars Memoriae? I found some of it to be fitting, based on my own personal experiences. Of course…” you continue to ramble, effectively trapping Lord Satan into a conversation he (quite clearly, in your opinion) doesn’t want to have.

Revenge is sweet, especially paired with the delicious tea. You must ask for the blend next time you run into the duke.

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

#chhw #obey me #obey me game #obey me shall we date #shall we date obey me #obey me x you #obey me x reade #obey me x mc #satan obey me #obey me satan #satan avatar of wrath #satan om #om satan #satan x you #satan x reader #satan x mc #satan x fem!reader #leviswriting #leviswriting-obeyme

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subzeroparade · 9 months

Note

I finished!!! With DLC and everything, now I’m a squid baby hanging out with the Doll for the rest of eternity. Super excited that my self-imposed ban on lore videos and fics are lifted, and now I can read!

Not to diss Elden Ring, gods know I love the Lands Between, but Bloodborne’s story just hits different. With ER it feels like it’s all a giant family squabble, but in Bloodborne it’s the collective human hubris that fucked everything up. The Great Ones in BB seem to be way more sympathetic and often victims of men’s actions, where in ER the Outer Gods appear to be more malevolent. Idk, it’s almost like Marika and the Greater Will is a success story of how to commune with the Great Ones properly and establish a mutually beneficial world order compared to whatever they were trying to do in BB. From a “all soulsborne games are connected” perspective it’s pretty neat.

With that said, I’m dying to know your takes on the lore. I’ve always felt in the beginning (the beginning of the game as well, to a certain extend) everything was your normal level of Victorian horror——vampires, werewolves, hunters, scholars that seek higher knowledge, but all under control and supernatural events were few and far between, known only to certain individuals. It’s only until the event of the Fishing Hamlet and the establishment of the Healing Church, or even after the schism of the Choir and the Mensis, that things went publicly tits up. Are you in favor of the events of the game happened in literally one night, or that Yharnam is stuck in a limbo? How long do you think has passed since the heyday of Byrgenworth and the event of the game (I want to say 30ish years based on Willem’s age and since he’s the only one alive from that time it’s a good time indicator. But then again is he actually alive? Extending his existence through unnatural means sounds like something he’d totally do)? Did our action really change anything? Did killing Rom allow the Mensis Ritual to succeed by weakening the veil and beckoning the Red Moon, or they were going to succeed/already did anyway and we were just breaking the illusions that everything is “normal”? Since the Healing Church is a new power (although how they managed to build so many grand architectures in such short amount of time is beyond me, the magic in this world is not known for its construction powers lol), who ruled Yharnam before them in your headcanon? I read theories that the Vilebloods were the ruling class before the Healing Church and they themselves have Pthumerian ties, which is interesting and adds another layer to the conflict between the Healing Church and Cainhurst. But I don’t know how plausible that theory is.

So sorry for my rambling, I just have so many thoughts in my head and excited to share them with you before I do the same in your comment section 😭 Anyway, since AO3 is back up it’s great time to start diving into BB fics!

Wow this sure is An Ask :’)

First of all, congrats on becoming A Squid! Enjoy godhood.

The rest of this under the cut for length.

BB and ER are certainly vastly different in their storytelling. I remain a big fan of how the spectrum of ER’s themes run from Greek tragedy to medieval succession struggles. Personally, I find the familial plot points of it to be the most interesting - as well as the vast passage of time and sense of decay and mythology imbued in the world. Admittedly I don’t care as much for shipping in ER - outside of writing Godwyn/Fortissax, obvs - because the legacy and mythos parts of it seem so incredibly rich by comparison (hence why I don’t write BB characters as being related, as many people seem to - I burnt out on family drama themes writing for ER).

BB, by contrast, is somehow very immediate in its history, in its active crisis, and it feels very grounded in humanity in a way that ER does not. In ER I feel constantly reminded that we are a shitty little lowly Tarnished and cannot pretend to understand the millennia that have past - even since the Shattering - or the scraps we’re now sniffing at in the wake of all that. But humans in BB feel close enough to the gods that they’re compelled to reach for them - scholars, clergymen, institutions, etc - only to realise the gods are crueler and more incomprehensible than even those of ER, while the consequences of their actions are significantly and viscerally more personal. ER has gods as a product of divinity and mythmaking, and BB has them, in a weird sense, as a facet of the Promethean impulse gone horribly wrong. If you really want to know my take on some of these specific questions, I’ve answered similar ones under the ask tag - but am occasionally cagey about some of these, because I use them for plot points in future fics. I’d rather a reader go in not being too familiar with my speculation, and that my conjecture is a means to an end (storytelling) rather than just info-dumping of “here’s what I think happened” - but that’s just my personal inclination. (Which is not to say I don’t appreciate other people’s elaborate lore speculation because I do, and there are some great and heavily-researched headcanons that I don’t always share but love to rotisserie in my head.)

As for what I can answer -

Are you in favor of the events of the game happened in literally one night, or that Yharnam is stuck in a limbo?

Semi-answered this in a previous ask here but since cosmic what-the-fuckery is pretty abundant otherwise, I like parts of lorecrafting to be pretty grounded in opposition to that - so I do believe Yharnam folk experience multiple nights of the Hunt, a rhythm of descent into madness influenced by the moon and the slow dissolution of the Church. I think dawn comes for them, but they know the next night will be worse, each new moon another instance of the city unravelling around them.

How long do you think has passed since the heyday of Byrgenworth and the event of the game?

Touched on this a bit here. This is based on the pacing I establish in my own writing, but I give the events between the Hamlet and the PC Hunter’s arrival about 50 years, give or take.

But then again is he [Willem] actually alive?

I think about catatonic rocking chair Willem like a potted plant on a windowsill. Decorative.

Did killing Rom allow the Mensis Ritual to succeed by weakening the veil and beckoning the Red Moon, or they were going to succeed/already did anyway and we were just breaking the illusions that everything is “normal”?

Hammering this out for an upcoming fic, because I haven’t entirely made up my mind - also about whether the Moon creates the Dream before Mensis usurps Mergo’s Nightmare, or vice versa - or whether the two happen around the same time, and what their separate or overlapping goals are. I do think Mensis has different goals than the Church, to a certain point. I’ve had some pretty interesting discussions with mutuals about this (and feel free to share thoughts if you have).

Since the Healing Church is a new power (although how they managed to build so many grand architectures in such short amount of time is beyond me, the magic in this world is not known for its construction powers lol), who ruled Yharnam before them in your headcanon?

I tackle this with worldbuilding in The Feast We Were Promised, if you’re inclined to read it. Tldr: nothing exists in a vacuum, certainly not in a society with the kind of complexity demonstrable in Bloodborne, so obviously there was both a system of belief and system of government before the Healing Church politicked and/or strong-armed its way into power.

As for cathedrals (and this is where being a historian by profession is pretty useful in worldbuilding): you could built pretty remarkable structures with pretty efficient timing, especially in the late 19th century. To use a nearby example of my own, Sacré-Coeur basilica at Montmartre took about 60 years from scratch in the latter half of the 19thc (as in there was nothing there before, no minor structure) and that’s considered long - it probably would’ve taken less time without the multiple wars and upheaval over that timespan. Likewise, a structure like Notre-Dame (the Paris one, not the Montreal one) underwent extensive restorations and additions in the 19th century, especially under Viollet-le-Duc (whose students would go on to do the same thing to gothic cathedrals elsewhere in France), but the baseline of the structure was already there - which is what I propose in the case of Yharnam: that much of the city’s civil and religious urban structure was already present (perhaps in the form of Pthumerian ruins in some cases). As in most European cities, buildings sometimes date from the Roman Empire and are gradually embellished, redone, or expanded upon over the course of the following centuries/millennia when funds are plenty and the ruling class is willing. If you think about what Haussmann did to Paris in less than twenty years, I imagine that to be the kind of equivalent of how the Church “cleans” up Yharnam and modernises it. But it’s my own preferred headcanon to imagine Yharnam was a little underwhelming before the Church’s public works; it could’ve also already been a splendid, thriving city. (I did some work on Viollet-le-Duc's gargoyles like a decade ago, I highly encourage checking out his early drafts of them, they are remarkable images).

I read theories that the Vilebloods were the ruling class before the Healing Church and they themselves have Pthumerian ties, which is interesting and adds another layer to the conflict between the Healing Church and Cainhurst.

I touch on this in Feast a bit as well, but I think it’s really open to interpretation and you can make all kinds of convincing and interesting arguments about Cainhurst’s Pthumerian legacy. Again, on a grounded level beyond cosmic fuckery, I imagine Cainhurst and Yharnam’s larger territories have a centuries-old conflict a la English vs the French type of situation, and every skirmish and hostility arises out of this longstanding hostility and struggle over land and resources. I do think Cainhurst is tied to Pthumeru, though, via actual legacy, in a way Yharnam is not; and so I think Cainhurst would have claim to the labyrinths and the Healing Blood in a way that would threaten the Church’s supremacy in Yharnam and have ultimately kicked off hostilities, etc etc, until you get to the Cainhurst Massacre.

All that to say enjoy your squidhood and any BB fics you read :)

#ask #lore #writing #bloodborne #still going through the ask box

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yutafrita · 1 year

Note

hey nat 💗💗 icb its only wednesday... i mean i can, but i just want more sleep :'') i hope your week is going well! c: could i request a drabble with faerie!chenle? -🚀

Aaaand now it’s Friday! I’m hoping to sleep in tonight but I doubt it lol. I do hope you get to sleep though- idk I feel like this week has been exhausting lol. Anyways- yes you can! I meant to have this up yesterday 😵‍💫 but i hope you like it! I’ve actually have never written so much for Chenle so i had a lot of fun 🥹

[4:01pm]

Pairing: Faerie!Chenle x Vampire!Reader (she/her)

Genre: General fluffiness, magic au and college au

Word Count: 1.7k (!?! idk how this happened)

CW: mentions of fake blood, reader is discriminated against for being a vampire

You hated having to ask for help, but you had gotten desperate. Your History of Magical Beings course was kicking your ass. You were struggling to properly memorize important dates- such as differentiating between the elvish wars, Satyr wars, and the elvish satyr war which are all different. Chenle was the smartest person in your class, and the only one that would be willing to help you- maybe. You weren’t sure, but this is what you were hoping for.

Your university only recently had lifted its ban on vampires, and Chenle was your only peer that didn't look at you in disdain. You always kept your colored contacts on so that people couldn't tell that your eyes naturally were red, and you never had your fangs exposed, but you still stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the mostly non-vampiric student body.

Quietly, you maneuvered through the university’s library, avoiding the glares sent your way. This floor of the library contained books mostly on lycanthropy and other magical transformations, so while you expected there to be several werewolves threatening you with their eyes, you still weren't sure why Chenle chose to linger on this floor by himself to study.

Winter was the only other vampires in your major (and your roommate) told you that they smelled a faerie on the floor above you two before then deducing who the smell belonged to.

"I don't understand why Chenle would hang out with a bunch of dogs," Winter grumbled. You quickly excused yourself from the table you two sat at, earning a shrug from her as you impulsively made your way upstairs. Faerie’s had a distinctly sweet smell, one that felt like a breathe of clean, fresh air compared to the werewolves on this floor.

The more you wandered the floor and followed his scent, the more you found yourself losing your nerve. Chenle may be the only one of your peers who would smile back at you in class, but it was bold to assume that he would want to speak with you- let alone study with you. Still, you pressed onwards until you found the nearly vacant table he sat at.

In class, he typically wore a sweater, but as he studied now, his jacket laid strewn on the table, his wings fully exposed. They were a soft yellow with a golden shimmer, yet so delicate that they were nearly see through. You were so entranced that for a moment, you forgot what you were there for. You cleared your throat, and steeled your nerves before moving towards him.

"For the millionth time, I'm not interested in howling at the moon tonight," Chenle spoke without looking up, as if this was a normal irritation for him.

“That doesn’t sound like much fun for me,” you joked, forcing a smile as Chenle looked up at the new voice.

“Oh, hi y/n!” Chenle smiled, a genuine smile that made your undead heart almost flutter. Still feeling timid, you sat down on the chair across from him, and explained to him your struggle in your shared course.

“… I don’t have anyone else I can ask for help,” you added, already feeling bad for bringing it up. Winter had barely passed the class the semester before, and didn’t have as much as any old notes to pass your way. “It… it’s okay if you can’t though, I understand.”

You met his gaze then. He seemed to be studying you, his wings fluttering behind him as he did.

“How come you can walk in the sun?” The faerie’s question surprised you enough for your mouth to hang open in shock for a moment. Pressing your lips on a tight line, you took out the Faerie enhanced sunblock that most modern day vampires had on hand. “So that was developed in the Satyr-Elvish wars when vampire clans aligned themselves on the elvish side. Faeries fought alongside them both and developed this defense so that vampires could be utilized as a secret weapon.”

After your shared class with Chenle, you two would meet in the library. He would help you with your course work, and you slowly found yourself finally getting the material while also getting to know Chenle.

"Let me take to you to dinner- as a thank you," you offered one day after a surprisingly long tutoring session. To be honest, you found yourselves getting more and more sidetracked as the days went on. Chenle was surprisingly easy to have a conversation with, and never made you feel unwanted.

“You can eat normal food?" He raised a teasing eyebrow at you.

"Yeah, just nothing with garlic."

"Seriously?" This seemed to surprise him.

"No of course not," you laughed, earning a booming laugh from the faerie. Walking through campus and the small town it presided in felt strange. Usually, you and Winter would walk and ignore the glares that other people would send your way. Vampires, even if they were like you and were just born naturally, were considered less than to other beings, hence why it took hundreds of years before your university really considered letting you all enroll. So, for you, walking through campus and receiving glares and grumbles your way was nothing new.

But, you could tell that Chenle was not too happy with this.

"Do you need something?" he shot at a group of other faeries you two were passing, their own green and blue wings seeming to hang low after Chenle snapped at them.

"You don't have to say anything, this is pretty normal," you noted, keeping your eyes focused on the ground in front of you.

"It shouldn't be," he grumbled. "Why do you let people be so mean to you?"

You stopped walking, looking up to look at him head on.

"Do you think I want that? Of course I don't- but if I stand up for myself, all it does is further the narrative that vampires are emotional beings who can't control their impulses. You get to just be smart and pretty but..." your voice trailed off, as you frowned to yourself.

"You think I'm pretty?" Chenle spoke, his own smile wide. You playfully shoved his arm, forgetting for a moment that you were a vampire and that he was a faerie- in that moment, you were just two people who really liked to be around each other.

Hanging out with Chenle began to go above just simple tutoring sessions.

"You smell like fresh linen... were you with that faerie again?" Winter asked one night after you gotten back to your apartment late.

"Yep!"

"Y'know, you've been hanging out with Chenle quite a lot. Has he introduced you to any of his friends?" she asked casually, not looking up from her Nocturnals Digest Magazine. Winter was really your only confidante and Chenle had met her on numerous occasions- yet, you never met those Chenle chose to spend the rest of his time with.

"I mean... we aren't dating or anything," you mumbled, yanking out your factory-made blood from the fridge to try and numb the intrusive thoughts filling your brain. "I mean... well... do you think there's a reason he wouldn't want me around his friends?"

At this, Winter glanced up at you as if it was obvious, then looked back at her magazine before sneering, "you've got some blood dribbling down your chin, you vamp."

Walking through campus the next day, you passed by the different groupings of students. As per usual, most species tended to stick together, and all shot you glares. Was Winter right? Did Chenle not trust you around his friends?

You did like Chenle, this you had come to realize fairly early. And while Chenle was flirty with you, beyond brushing his hand against your own or his wings lingering close to your back when you’d walk side by side, he hasn't made much else of an actual clear indication of his feeling. Perhaps, and this was a shot in the dark, he was worried about what his friends would think.

You didn't get to mull on this too much though, as you looked through the grassy center of campus, sun shining almost perfectly on a small group of men sitting in a cluster. Standing around the edges was someone with a familiar set of golden wings, and as if you were being beckoned, you headed towards Chenle.

"…. I wouldn't wish Calculus III on my worst enemy," one of the young men loudly complained before his gaze set on you. It wasn't the typical glare you were used to, though, it was a look more of curiosity than anything. This gave Chenle, who turned to face you before you could fully approach the group.

"Oh, y/n!" Chenle smiled, his wings shimmering in the sunlight as he moved to sling an arm over your shoulder. "Guys!" Chenle called the attention of the group behind him, earning collective looks of curiosity. The group was mostly as you suspected- mostly faeries, mostly.

"Is this that girl our Chenle's been gushing over all semester?" one of them taunted, standing up and moving to pinch Chenle's cheeks before getting brushed off. His wings were of a deep purple, and far less transparent than Chenle's.

"Haechan!" Chenle hissed.

"Aw, he's embarrassed!" the first young man that saw you laughed before promptly introducing themselves as Renjun, and he, you noted, was the only one without a pair of wings. Instead, you could easily pick up the scent of crisp apples and berries, his pointed ears giving away his status as an elf.

"So, are you guys dating finally?" the third boy asked, his own black wings giving off a silver shimmer in the sunlight.

You stood wide eyed, looking over at Chenle in awe at his friends openness.

"This is why I did not want you guys around her- especially you Jaemin," he groaned, earning mocking words from the other three boys.

“He was scared we’d take you away from him,” the one named Jaemin mocked, sticking his tongue out. You laughed with the rest of his friends, meeting Chenle’s nervous gaze as he tried to assess your thoughts. His friends were funny, accepting of you, and you would soon come to find out that they had been friends for many, many years.

“I’m glad your friends like me- or, I think they do,” you told him that night after class.

“What’s there not to like?” He playfully shoved your shoulder, his wings once again caressing your back as he did. Quietly, you laced your fingers through his, and smiled as he squeezed your hand tightly.

#🚀 anon #chenle x reader #chenle x y/n #nct fic #nct dream x reader #nct dream college au #Faerie!Chenle #nct fluff #vampire!reader

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historia-vitae-magistras · 11 months

Note

gonna project all my ex-catholicness on matthew

also, dick magic? 👀

LMAO. Yes, I can. So in the mid 1600s, Quebec was tiny and I mean tiny. 3000-4000 people for a population. Compare that to the American Colonies having about 75,000, though that would drop fairly significantly with King Philip's War in another 15ish years. Quebec's tiny, shitty, unprofitable, cold, always getting their shit rocked by the Iroquois League (based) or the British or the Dutch or the Scottish or other Frenchmen. Crops fail, there's outbreaks of what's probably typhus or smallpox. Jesuit missionaries were captured tortured, killed (also based.) There was, of all things, an earthquake in 1660 or so in Montreal. There's also nuns reporting canoes on fire, rocks pelting people all the time by magic. Anyway, my point being, it's a weeeeee bit of a nutty time to be a Franuck peasant. The two main instances of actual convicted witchcraft in 1600s Quebec was a Huguenot who was more shot for being a protestant and selling the Huron and Montagnais liquor which was banned than he was for witchcraft. But the other one?

Enter, the dick magic. I'm taking this story from notes I took in 2016 so bear with me here. So in 1657, a 14 year old girl named Marie Pontonnier spurned the advances of pervert and soldier 20-25 years older than her named René Besnard and married a man much closer to her in age. Besnard cursed the marriage, vowing the couple would never have children and Marie's husband wouldn't be able to get a boner so long as they remained married. Besnard tried to force and blackmail Marie into fucking him so he would lift the curse. Again, she's 14 at the age of her marriage and 15 during this trial and he's well into his 40s. She and her her husband are still trying for their first child but her husband can't get it up and its just not happening so they take Besdnard to court. Besnard accuses her of seducing him, (again, she's fifteen years old) she accuses him in turn of being a lecherous piece of shit, which he is at that age gap and the entire community is on her side so Besnard is convicted of witchcraft an banished from the colony. Three years later, after 3 boner free years and no babies, Marie and her husband had their marriage annulled. It looks like they parted on very good terms, he gave her a shit ton of money and kind words and she would name one of her 10 children after him. And her ex-husbands remarriage also produced about a dozen children and both began reproducing almost as soon as both of them were remarried. So, yup. Dick magic. Also from my notes.

#the ask box || probis pateo #research || sauntering through the stacks

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yuuugay · 9 months

Note

Would you mind if I asked you about your OC Ner Wanless? I'm a bit curious about what could possibly drive him so far down that Caine would raise his blade at him 🕺🕺🕺 Had he left the Shepherds by then? Did he become a vigilante? Where are the other Shepherds (Blade, Chase, etc.), and if they were still around and not, you know, Dead, had they cut ties with Ner? WHAT WAS HE DOING? 🗣🗣🗣

Staring intensely at your OC. Thinking. Rotating him in my head like a microwave. But a sleepy microwave. Because it's 4am and I fear I'm about to pass out, gnight 😔💔

cringe story blurb incoming

My story is just a lil au add on to shoh :))

This story happens when the whole magic ban by the autarchy is lifted akjdjdhd. Also, in my au, nobody in the Shepherds die ajjsjd i love them all. Ner cut ties with them instead.

The Shepherds were kinda just like a passing phase for Ner

(He knew he wouldn't stay that long, and that he would leave someday. Only for the protection from the autarchy and money). It was mostly a bad choice in his part to not say anything to anyone, except Caine and Blade. To Caine, whom he left a short letter (A letter in which I have already written out kajdjjd) and his weapon too. So he became a sort of vagrant (Wayfarer, traveler ect, ect. He prefers the life of never settling down.)

Along the way, he got himself some sort of curse that forces him to kill to sate the curse's bloodlust. Nobody could lift it because it's so old and archaic. So he starts taking mercenary requests, but I like to think the curse has its periods where it's strongest that he needs to kill more. But mercenary work takes a while. Him being good at psionic magic, he could dig deep inside peoples minds to find their wrongdoings that haven't yet faced consequences. He didn't find a fault in it; it helped him, and it rid the world of someone terrible, regardless whether the killed tried to repent for it or not. So in part, yes he became a vigilante, but to an outsiders pov, he's straight up just a murderer.

Ofc, a random, dangerous Aetherai-Psionic mage killing seemingly innocents periodically would find themselves facing the Shepherds best one day. Which Ner found himself in the unlucky battle between caines team and himself. I would imagine the battle would be Ner holding back while Caine has to begrudgingly admit that his old best friend is a murderer. Ner refuses to explain himself, he thought it was probably too late anyway. He was already a bad guy to everyone. So it was a battle of *Emotional damage* Lots of stuff said, maybe a lot of cuts and cruises and blood spilled.

but the real damage done was to Ner's insides. Cause you know, he ends up dead anyway.

But ofc, this all would be irrelevant if Lena gives us the option to let MC die. I'll probably do that, but it's always nice to have my own interpretation of what could happen.

So yeah, nothing really that crazy. Just something self indulgent I thought of a while back.

#snowthornes #ygblorbos #i forehead kiss caine #while it'd be easier for me to just make ner a really bad boy and starts killing everyone because he can #kansjdajdhd #i want to atleast stay in the vicinity of what i pictured his character to be #its a little flawed yes #but hopefully i can cultivate it into something coherent in the future #its like drawing kajdjdjd #slowly improving how you do things that it could look completely different by the next month

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em-writes-stuff · 5 months

Text

sickness

day two of @whumpcember

734 words

warnings: talking about dying

Recording of a letter found for Prince Robert, folded in a book on the Old Kings. Writer is not known, but the name starts with an E. From the little writing on the Prince, my guess is Edward “Echo” Song, the child of a baker, who’s suspected of helping Robert’s brother, Timothy, escape an execution. If it’s not Edward, I don’t know who it would be.

The letter appears to be 240-250 years old, given the events written about, and the wear on the paper, and is in pristine condition, considering. Some splotches smear the ink, but it’s still readable.

Let’s get started:

Robbie,

I doubt you thought you’d ever hear from me again. I figure it’s safe enough, with the news of the ban being lifted and your sister taking over the kingdom. Sorry to hear of the king’s death, I know it’s not how you wanted it to happen.

I’ve been thinking of writing you this letter for a while, but I’ve been writing others and gotten a case of nostalgia, so I figured it was time. I’m dying. Not using magic the first half of my life drained a lot of my life from me, and I’m getting weaker by the day. Hopefully I’m able to make it through the winter so I can harvest the garlic I planted earlier. If not, it’ll be stuck in the ground.

I don’t want you to try and track this, not that you would want to, but the only way you’d be getting this is if I died, so I guess that’s happened now. If you did track it, you’d find that I lived a full life, well, as full as it could have been given my circumstances, with two partners I picked up along the way. They’ve done all they can for me and now it’s time I do what’s best for them. So please don’t find them, they’re hurting enough.

I have arranged for some mutual friends of ours to make it to the ball together, they should make it the night of and leave two mornings after. I know their presence will cause quite a stir, but I’ve had them vow not to try anything with the riches of your kingdom, bla, bla, bla. Don’t try anything with them, they’re married now. Anyway, I hope you all have fun, eat some desserts for me.

I heard about the wife, congratulations. It’s a big deal, I never thought you’d find someone to put up with you. Jokes aside, I’m happy for you. I’ll drink to your happiness next time I get a chance.

Spence is safe, I just talked with him a few weeks ago. He lives in a small cottage in a tightly-knit community with a big dog and the other friend who left Terilace with us. She’s not there often, taking more to the travellers life than anything. But, she has a place to hang her gloves when needed, and she’s grateful to it.

As always, I wish you the best with the rest of your life, and hope you don’t get too caught up in the nostalgia of our time together. It would be best for you to throw this letter out, reputations and all. But, if you want to keep it tucked away in something, go ahead.

With all the love in the world,

Well.

I can only assume the “mutual friends” referenced are infamous raiders, Kaya Bloostone and Archibald Blair. If I’m right, it seems Prince Robert was tangled up in a lot more than I’ve read about.

Just as I said, this is most likely written by Edward, I might check with Ezran, seen as he’s the only person still alive to have met him. Damn immortals. They just love to have too much knowledge and hog the head fucking librarian position.

The letter will go into a new book, tucked in Prince Robert’s section, under the “mysteries of his time” section, and the recording will will be saved, again, according to Ezran’s stupid fucking system.

Whatever.

There will likely be more to read on Edward, especially due to the familiarity in the letter, I can only hope it’s more like this, and not anything I’ll have to hide from the entire fucking kingdom. I don’t want to do another one of those. Too much paperwork that’ll never see the light of day.

Signing off.

#em writes #em writes stuff #my writing #whump #whumpcember #whumpcember2023 #whump fic #original characters

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mha-quotes-and-such · 1 year

Note

Hey!

It's LoV's Saturday Game Night!

(Oh, boy, I missed it)

Okay, it all started when Twice stumbled upon an Operation game and thought "oh, a game about operating people, Toga will love it!", then he shoplifted it.

Toga was pretty excited about the new game! ...Until she found out the tiny person was already open and the holes didn't bleed out. What was the fun in an operating game if you didn't cut the person open yourself?!

But the few tries they took was enough to get everyone's else attention. Not because it was a particularly interesting game, but because at this point basically every single item you would find at a toy store was banned. So they were like "oh, what is this thing that we didn't get banned yet?".

Kurogiri eyed it all cautiously, but decided to let it happen anyway because deep down he has hope some game won't be an utter failure.

(Can't they just have some healthy fun without destroying the house and each other?!)

When Toga finally got bored of getting things out of the fake surgery holes, Dabi decided to get her place because "this dumb thing can't be that hard".

He tried to get the heart out.

BEEP

He tried to get a bone out

BEEP

He tried to get the stupid butterfly out.

BEEEEP

"Argh! Why there's even a butterfly there? This guy swallowed it up or what?!"

Shigaraki didn't even try to hold his laughter, Twice laughed too and Dabi switched his murderous intent from the game to them.

"You think it's easy?" He all but shoved the tweezers in his hands. Shigaraki lifted a finger by reflex or else the game would have ended then and there.

(Maybe it would have been better)

Dabi smirked and waited for Shigaraki to fail... Only he didn't expect him to have years and years of practice handling things carefully. Shigaraki was as good as Toga.

So he did the mature thing to do and kicked the table right when Shigaraki got the tweezers in the hole.

BEEEEEP

"Oi, what was it for?!" He crossed his arms "I was almost winning!"

"What? I didn't do anything.... But I saw you lose. Don't go blaming me!" Dabi didn't even fake an innocent expression. They would have gone for each other's throat if Magne didn't come and get the tweezers herself.

She had trouble at first, but got better after a few tries... Too good even. So good that the others started to watch more carefully and realized she wasn't going with the tweezers all the way, just magnetizing them to pull the props up.

After a wave of booing and some "cheater!" here and there, she shrugged and said at least she tried.

Next was Spinner.

BEEP

BEEEP

BEEEEEEEEP

If you can't tell, he sucked. And each try got him more nervous, which made him commit more mistakes.... You get the cycle.

Dabi lost his temper (it was amusing at first, then just plain annoying) and tried to get the tweezers back saying it was his turn again.

Twice complained that it should be HIS turn again, but Dabi said he already played too much with Toga before they came.

Shigaraki argued that it should be HIS turn, because Dabi ruined his previous one, so it was just fair!

The second fight of the day was escalating quickly!

Then Mr. Compress decided to take a turn too. To make things better? Nope. To make things worse!

He tried to show off a bit by pulling all the tiny props quick and flawlessly. But no one paid him much attention because they were too busy fighting/watching the fight/trying to stop the fight/betting on the fight.

He called them and tried again, but this time getting the objects out with HIS FINGERS instead of the tweezers. He got them all out again, first try, no alarm beeping... but no one clapped or looked amazed like he expected.

(It WAS impressive, but no one wanted to stroke his ego and hear about it for the rest of the day)

Then he, as an adult figure, did the mature thing and made a "magic trick" with the props. He put them all on his hands, closed them, opened them again and the tiny objects disappeared!

...Only that he didn't want to make them appear again. (How come NO ONE clapped? It was a hard trick!)

Which only made things worse. There were people shouting because it was their turn, people shouting because the others were cheaters, people shouting to tell the other people to stop shouting....

Toga was attracted back because of the fight (better than a stupid bloodless operation game) with her knife ready and yelled "how about a real operation?!" before jumping in.

Now, no one can prove who did what, but Kurogiri teleported them all to their rooms and have to clean up:

-the remains of the operation doll, all cut up beyond recognition.

-the remains of the tiny props. Who even managed to crush them and cut them up?

-sweep the floor because of the dust (what was decayed? Who knows. Probably the toy box since he didn't find it anywhere)

-clean up the blood (whose blood? Probably everyone's! But just a few nicks, nothing big)

How did such a simple game failed? Who knows. He's not surprised anymore. He just finished cleaning and went to check all his (rambunctious) kids for cuts and bruises.

Operation was, without a doubt, banned.

Hey glad to have you back!! I honestly don’t have much to add because this was AMAZING. I love that Toga was one of the ones who started the game and immediately walked away, it’s such a her thing to do. And I bet the poor game has quite a few scorch marks on it too from a Very annoyed Dabi

#not a quote #ask #head canon appreciation day #lov game night

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