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chryzure-archive · 1 year

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im sorry abt your surgery, ill be there in spirit to hold your hand if you need it <3 wishing you the best and hopefully its just a scare and nothing to worry too much abt!!

as for asks...

i always love your music taste so, 5 songs youve had on repeat lately that make you think of chryzure + chrysijacks? also, if they were each a pair of unlikely animal friends (ie, a pig and a monkey lol) which ones would they be? def feeling rabbit and cat for chryzure.

this question is a very self-indulgent one cus ive been going thru a huge superhero phase but, if they were superheroes which ones would they be? this could either be made-up or existing superheroes-- personally, i think chrysi would be an AMAZING black cat/felicia hardy, she has the white hair and the dark aesthetic to match it :3 i def think azure would be a mutant/x-men (no particular reason, it just seems to match him?) and jacks... well, jacks is just giving me deadpool energy. slutty antihero? i think yes. it'd be cool to know what kind of superhero abilities youd assign to them tho :33

thank you 🖤 please hold my other hand though, they’re cutting up my right one 🤧 hopefully there’s nothing to worry abt since my family has a history of the weirdness w/o the cancer..

chryzure songs:

so good right now // fall out boy (wanted the whole album to make me think of chrysigil, then it jst wound up being chryzure and chrysijacks coded…)

xyz // technoplanet (vv specific vibe, idk why, but instrumentals like this make me go crazy, go wild)

anicent history // the crane wives (teehee! in agony thinking abt them separated)

in my head // mike shinoda, kailee morgue ((bonus song, still alive // demi lovato because screamvi brainrot real….. jst saying the au goes wild!))

cartoon people // billie marten (the vibes themselves……)

chrysijacks songs (he’s more annoying):

chapstick // coin (sorry, juno…:(( sorry jacks ruined this for you)

summer // circadian clock, baethoven (biting him!)

blood in the cut // k.flay (sorry juno pt.2)

hold my like a grudge // fall out boy (part-time soulmate, full-time problem too real for chrysijacks…)

121U // day6 (I DONT WANT TO WANT YOU I DONT WANT TO LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!)

chryzure is kittybunny lovers all the time… they are doing this right now:

chrysijacks is kitty and fox… sorry, the legend of the archer and the fox is actually abt chrysijacks and chrysi’s the archer and jacks is the fox!! idk what was going on in the books, get ur facts right!

((more proof is that i had a chrysijacks song called the fox before the book came out + the lyrics imply jacks not wanting to be the fox and hunted down by the archer… explain this 🤨))

oh my god, i looked up black cat and you’re RIGHT, that’s sooo chrysi??? esp the probability thing… explains why azure’s gotten such bad luck over the years.

if i were to make chrysi her own superhero, hmmm….. i feel like she’d summon ghosts and stuff… ??????? idk, i’ve never thought abt it 🫢 i mean, the funniest option is totally that she can bring back the dead and summon ghosts and stuff, but she never fucking uses that in favor of bashing ppl’s heads in w a baseball bat. OH, wait, her fated abilities include causing fear and giving nightmares, so maybe i could do something like that!!! she can keep the ghost summoning thing if she wants. idk what name i’d give her. it’s so hard coming up w a good superhero name. nightmare is too basic + i’m sure there’s thousands of ppl w that superhero name 💀 oh well!

AZURE WOULD SOOOOO HAVE X-MEN VIBES. he gets to go to a special little mutant school and have like minded peers… little special princess boy 🙄 SOME people learned they inflict fear on ppl and had to deal with it ALONE, but it’s fine. it’s rlly okay.

his powers probably are jst spatial manipulation, but he’s good enough at it that it looks like it’s jst telekinesis… and also teleportation :) jst the idea of him tricking ppl he has one power when it’s actually another makes me go crazy, go wild!!! idk what his title would be either. this is HARD, how do comic book writers do it!!!

yes. jacks is a whore. fuck him. i want him dead in a ditch. his powers are making ppl love him and want to obey him? rlly? he gets everything handed to him on a platter???? killing him killing him killing him!!!! he’d be the villain that chrysi and azure have to take down first, but they get there and jacks is jst rlly lameand they’re like, “…….. okay, guess we’ll leave you alive….?” and now he’s a thorn in their side that doesn’t leave ://////

#IM BAD W SUPERHERO NAMES IM SO SORRY </////3 SOBBING INTO MY HANDS RN.#but yeah the cancer thing should jst be a scare..#i have the next two years w checkups so it doesn’t become scary!! it’s jst not something i was very happy to learn #.asks #m.kai💛#s.chryzure #s.chrysijacks #OH also let me know if you want a diff emoji in ur mutual tag!!

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dearestones · 8 months

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Twisted Wonderland Matchup: Vil Schoenheit

@supergigabigboybabechad Request: Heyhi! Romantic twst matchup plspls!!

Im told i have strong aura with my appearance. I have dark hair at shoulders with bangs and hot pink dyed roots that streak to frame my face. Looks? Im a handsome girl! Im not exactly an extravert (lovealonetime) but id say ive nifty social skills. Definetly above average. I love fashion. i sew a lot and i get complements on my look! I love spoiling people best way to explain is examples my friend said she wishes a bakery sold macarons and i made her some another said she wanted leg warmers so i made her some! Personality wise im really cheeky i guess would be the way to describe it sassy and attitude are words i get. I love winning. I have a sharp tongue i think i have a creative way of thinking that translates into the way i speak. I love being there for people i feel like its my whole purpose. I do it as much for myself as i do for others. I like to think im smart and pick things up easily but maybe im just audacious. anecdote: i had weird interests and decided i wanted to do lock picking so i got this set for cheapsies and carried it everywhere. I literally only ever opened the practice lock those things come with but i showed off a whole bunch at school anyways.teacher overheard and asked mw to show her by opening a locked cabinet. I didnt wanna back down and embarrass myself so i just assumed i could do it.took me a good five minutes and i was shaking the whole time but yeah i was a whole show off and i still am confidence is key though right?

After going through the description given, I have determined that you are best paired with Vil Schoenheit!

Vil appreciates your confidence in both your bold and daring personality and of course your physical appearance! The key to true beauty, he believes, is to embrace and know who you are from the inside out. Since you are confident in yourself, it is easy to see the beauty that is brimming from your very being.

Furthermore, he appreciates your being a handsome girl. Some of the best parts about beauty is that there is no one or true way to view beauty, only that you are constantly improving and becoming your best self. If he may say so, he likes to believe that he is a beautiful boy—and as long as it’s not in mockery, he will fall to his knees if you call him such. (Please praise him, he loves hearing compliments from your pretty mouth).

An ambivert who is also quite social! That is a great boon in Vil’s book! As a social media influencer, it’s important that his image not be jeopardized by those who could inadvertently tarnish his good name. He has faith in you, of course, but he admires your personality and will give you your desired alone time if you so wish it.

You sew and love fashion? Oh my, what a pair you two will make! Vil often keeps a spare sewing kit in his bag if he ever rips his uniform or if he spots one of his dorm residents missing a button. Despite that, however, he never has the time to create original sewing projects. Perhaps, if you’re willing, you can show him what you’re working on? Or maybe the both of you can have a small little date together where he memorizes his lines for his newest role while you work on your sewing! The image is such a lovely sight, please indulge him.

Spoiling someone is always great as a reward. However, please don’t spoil his more… unrefined dorm residents. Some of them need to learn how to improve and embrace their inherent beauty. That said, feel free to spoil him, but not too much! A part of Vil believes that he needs to earn his way into success and reward. (Be sure to remind him that he doesn’t need to earn or work for your affection!)

Cheeky you say? Well now, you better watch your tongue… Vil knows how to give as good as he gets, especially since the media isn’t as pretty or as kind as some people make it out to be. If you do verbally spar with him or make your wit that much more apparent, he’ll gladly go to toe with you—he will not accept defeat that easily!

Creativity is also a wonderful boon, especially in the industry that Vil works in. Don’t be afraid to tell Vil what you're thinking about. Chances are he’ll like your ideas or even expand upon them to make them even better.

If you ever see Vil feeling down or brooding about how he doesn’t seem to think that he’s on par with Neige, be there for him. He has support from his Vice Housewarden and a few other friends, but he’ll cherish your commitment to him and your being there for him cheers him up.

Your confidence always astounds! Once Vil hears your story about how you picked a lock at your teacher’s behest, he might scold you for not practicing on other locks so that you may be prepared. Nonetheless, he admits that confidence is a trait that not many people have, especially to the extent that you clearly exhibit. While you seem to be a bit too reckless at times, your inner beauty shines through and honestly, that’s why he loves you.

Overall, the both of you bring out the best in each other. Vil may be overbearing at times and you may be a bit too bombastic and spontaneous for Vil’s tastes, the both of you get along pretty well and that’s what matters in the end.

If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

TWISTED WONDERLAND MASTERLIST

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland vil schoenheit #twst vil schoenheit #twst vil #twisted wonderland vil #twisted wonderland matchup #twst matchup #character matchup #matchup #dearestones #devintrinidad

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elliotgraysstuff · 6 months

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I've decided to start blogging on here for a hobby and also to help my thought process and documenting my ongoing journey to self love and compassion.

Well facts about me;

Name; elliot - they/ them pronouns pls.

I'm 26 years old and I have had quite a difficult life but I'm quite content with how my life is now. Anyways

Im a parent and they are my whole world my life changed for the better 😌

I'm a late diagnosed autistic and adhd still finding ways to help myself without risking burn out and finding the aids to help me.

I adore music especially kappa boy and anything instrumental, it calms me down and makes me feel good.

I love anything spooky and cute - like cute teddies that are spooky, spooky socks, cute/ spooky blankets, coffee cups etc.

I consider myself alternative I have 6 facial piercings and dyed black hair which currently is a mullet. I also change my hair CONSTANTLY. Also have old traditional tattoos on my legs and arm.

I'm very attached to my plushies and I have a special one I've had since birth. His name is Godfrey and he's a little giraffe. He is my biggest comfort at times.

I adore my cat loki, he's a grey short hair breed with brown Button eyes. He's such a comfort to me and the most cuddly cat ever. Whenever I'm going to have a panic attack he'll lick my hand to bring me back to the moment. I'm actually getting a tattoo of him on my hand.

I'm non binary and go by strictly they/ them pronouns.

I find art very interesting and I love Francis bacon and other artists. I wish I could draw but I'm terrible, I'm a somewhat good at photography. I absolutely love little comics and vines made by independent artists especially anything cottage core or spooky and cute.

Nature is one of my biggest stress elevators, I could go on a long walk in the forest and just feel so at peace. My favourite trees are willow trees or oaks.

Autumn is my favourite season, the sunlight is just magnificent. The golden leafs, the sunlight beaming low in the sky ahhh.

Also pumpkin spice lattes and cosy blankets. Don't forget the autumn candle smells!!

I love playing animal crossing on my switch. I love cosy hobbies and I'm currently learning how to crochet.

Coffee is my favourite drink EVER. especially with cream and sugar 😋

I find social situations extremely hard especially as I'm constantly looking at people and masking. I feel extremely drained after so I tend to just isolate, as I don't have to mask at home. Don't really have alot of friends but the ones I do have a love them so much.

I've been through addiction, homelessness,foster care, mental health hospitals etc so I guess you can say I've got alot of life experiences. I've been sober since 2020 ❤️ got my own place, stable and healthy now.

My favourite food and what I consider my safe food is noodles 🍜 I forget to eat sometimes and I find it hard to make a meal for myself so noodles are quick and tasty.

I'm diagnosed bipolar and EUPD and ocd. It's been an ongoing battle to stay stable but I have and will continue to try and be the best version of myself.

I love the colour pink and black, they are my two favourite colours.

I'm quite spiritual and ive always believed there's something other than us out there. Maybe not a god per say but a higher power, Energies etc. I believe in self love, self compassion and holding yourself accountable for space for growth.

I find it very difficult to assert myself and my boundaries. I'm often told I'm a people's pleaser because I don't want an argument or conflict. However I'm working through that especially now I'm diagnosed with autism and adhd and I'm learning to not put myself in situations that will drain me.

I'm very much a gentle parent to my child. I grew up in a hostile, abusive household and DO NOT want to continue the generational trauma. I've read alot of books to do with child psychology and development and its SO important!!

My favourite films are my neighbour totoro and anything to do with that genre. Spirited away etc.

Anyways I'll stop rambling for now. This was fun to do and I'll be blogging every so often to get my emotions out and work through things as I struggle sometimes.

My blog will always be a safe space for people that are learning to love themselves, self compassion, ND people are safe here, anyone who is also part of the LGBTQA+ community is always welcome you are safe. Also anyone who is struggling mentally too.

Have a blessed day and be kind to yourself. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

#mentalhealth #self development #self empowerment #self love journey

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jubaer01 · 1 year

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Art Jigsaw Puzzles

Art puzzles for adultsare a perfect way to relax after a busy day. Not only do they take away stress, they can also be a great way to delve into the work of some of the greatest artists of all time. So why not choose one of our incredibly detailed, beautifully illustrated jigsaws and enjoy some time to yourself?

Andy Warhol's Marilyn Diptych

Marilyn Diptych is one of Andy Warhol's greatest artworks. The silkscreen painting was created four months after the actress's death. It's a great tribute to Marilyn Monroe.

It's a satirical look at the way modern society consumes and idolizes celebrity. Warhol used images instantly identifiable by the general public. He also paid attention to the aesthetic. His use of color was an important part of his work. The two silver canvases that make up the Marilyn Diptych are a homage to the materiality of the art. The right side of the painting features an image in black and white and a grid of similar images in silver.

The grid mimics the contact sheet of a photographer. Interestingly, this is not the only grid based artwork that Warhol has made.

Diego Velazquez's Las Meninas

Velazquez's Las Meninas is a painting that is considered to be one of the most significant works in Western art history. This famous painting portrays a court scene in the court of King Philip IV of Spain.

The painting has been highly debated among artists and historians. Some argue that the image of a royal couple is not representative of the real people, while others argue that it shows representation.

A major characteristic of Velazquez's work is his use of chiaroscuro. He used a limited palette to create this effect.

Las Meninas is also a painting that is full of metaphor. One of the most notable is the mirror, which plays a huge role in the composition. It is near the center of the composition and adds a stereoscopic effect to the picture.

Frank Lloyd Wright's "Self-Portrait with Thorn Necklace and Hummingbird"

The Self-Portrait with Thorn Necklace and Hummingbird by Frida Kahlo is a popular painting. It features the artist's signature hairdo, bushy eyebrows, and a figure eight pattern of hummingbird wings.

In addition to being a work of art, the painting also has meaning. It represents both the artist's personal life and Mexican culture. This is one of the 55 self-portraits that Kahlo painted during her lifetime.

Although Frida Kahlo was a renowned artist, she had a tough life. She suffered from an early divorce from Diego Rivera. After she divorced him, she struggled financially. As a result, she turned to painting to express herself. Her paintings depict the thorn necklace and hummingbird as symbols of her pain. Another interpretation is that the necklace relates to her relationship with Diego. But the hummingbird represents the idea of eternity.

Frederic William Burton's "The Meeting on the Turret Stairs"

Frederic William Burton's 'The Meeting on the Turret Stairs' is a painting that captures the tragic love between Hildebrand and Hellelil. The story of these lovers' forbidden relationship is retold in a medieval Danish ballad.

'The Meeting on the Turrets' is one of the most popular works by Sir Frederic William Burton. Despite its modest appearance, it has a strong emotional impact. It is based on a medieval Danish ballad and depicts the final meeting between the two lovers.

When Burton was a young boy, he was forced to use his left hand to paint. He had suffered an unexplained injury to his right arm. But he managed to overcome the disadvantages of his childhood by developing a style that allowed him to use both his hands.

Pomegranate's jigsaw puzzles

Pomegranate makes some of the best jigsaw puzzles on the market. The company has a long track record of producing award winning books and games, with a strong emphasis on quality. Its flagship brand, Pomegranate Interactive Entertainment, produces knowledge cards and game decks to name a few. Located in San Francisco, the company has been around for the better part of 15 years. They have a knack for the big idea and are constantly introducing new concepts to their ever expanding product line.

Pomegranate is also a family-owned company. Their jigsaws are made of the highest quality materials and are packaged in handsome boxes. They have the distinction of being among the top manufacturers of award winning books in the world. A family friendly atmosphere and a healthy dose of philanthropy make for an excellent work environment.

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alrightberries · 3 years

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dante’s inferno

request: wassup homie could you maybe write a college au fic where levi and reader are rommies, then one day reader brings home an adopted cat without levi's prior knowledge? You could decide what happens next lol. Tysm 🥺

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack ❈ word count: 4k

❈ summary: college au. in which you bring a stray cat to your dorm and your neat freak roommate won’t let you keep it.

alternatively: a compilation of college shenanigans where you and levi are best friends who are bad with feelings (ft. an unamused cat named dante)

❈ trigger warnings: profanity. mentions of alcohol and smoking. implied smut.

a/n: this was supposed to be loosely based on the nine circles of hell according to inferno by dante alighieri— hence the title— but i did my research wrong so now it’s loosely based on the seven terraces of purgatory according to divine comedy. i’m keeping the title tho.

Inspired by this art by @ryuichirou on tumblr.

Permission to repost art was granted by the artist. Do not repost/edit the art without explicit permission from the artist.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

i. first terrace: pride

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why?”

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why.”

Levi’s tongue clicks in annoyance. His eyes glance next you where the offending creature lay on your bed; tail curling, paws kneading at his your favorite fleece blanket. Quite frankly he’s a little offended when the little shit has the audacity to glare at him back.

He’ll never admit it, but his ego’s a bit bruised because the cat’s glare was slightly better than his.

“I said no,” he firmly replies, looking back to you. “It’s bad enough I have to share a room with an anarchist who has no respect for boundaries—“

“One time, I forgot to use a coaster that one time!”

“—and now you expect me to share a room with a dirty fur ball who does nothing but eat, shit, and sleep?”

“He’s a cat, Levi.” You murmur, scooping the cat into your arms. ��And he has a name,” you give a nervous smile when you see your rommate grit his teeth. He feels a headache coming.

“You named it?”

“Dante is not an ‘it’.”

Levi makes a move to step closer but immediately stops when the ‘Dante’ hisses at him.

“Aw, he likes you.” You coo.

“Clearly,” he replies unenthusiastically. “Listen,” he sighs. “I respect your cat’s pronouns but that doesn’t mean he’s allowed to stay. Or do I need to remind you of the mac and cheese incident?”

Okay, maybe he was on to something. If you got caught with a pet in the dorms you’d breach your third and final warning, and you’d be forced to dorm off-campus. The fact that you were still here after the mac and cheese incident was solely because Levi pulled some strings (aka asked Erwin, golden boy of the campus who owed him a favor, to pull some strings).

But you couldn’t just let Dante go. There was something about him that felt so familiar; something about his black fur, thin silver eyes, unamused snarl, and overall grumpy demeanor. Especially endearing was the way he’d grumble and pretend to be annoyed whenever you tried to cuddle him but would complain if you stopped.

You just couldn’t figure out who or what he reminded you of.

Maybe you would’ve figured it out too if you weren’t so distracted with watching Levi and Dante stare at each other. Your eyes dart back and forth between the grouchy cat sitting on your bed and your grouchy roommate sitting on his desk. Both were slightly crouched over with their heads tilted up in a show of dominance; they were engaged in what seemed to be a glaring contest, gunmetal irises unamused and mouths taut in a snarl as they protected their territory.

You sigh. You really, for the life of you, couldn’t figure out why Dante felt so familiar.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

ii. second terrace: envy

Levi is not jealous. He’s not.

At least that’s what he tells himself as he sulks alone on his bed. His arms are crossed and his lips are in a pout, eyebrows knitted in distaste, occasionally glancing to your side of the room where you sat up on your bed. He’s sure whatever movie you chose to watch together is interesting and all, but right now all he could pay attention to was that stupid cat. Sitting on your stupid lap. Getting its fur stroked by your stupid hand. Getting all the love and affection his stupid self should be receiving.

It was him you should be cuddling, not Dante. Saturday nights were reserved for him and you, not you and a cat while he happened to be in the room. He’s been trying to make a move on you since high school and he can’t fucking believe he’s losing your attention to a cat. Sure, he’s always been too chicken to make a move and had to suffer seeing you get together with assholes— as per your type during your emo high school days— but this was a new low. He can’t wrap his head around the concept that he’s losing his longterm crush to a motherfucking cat.

When you coo at how adorable the fleabag was for what felt like the 50th time that night, Levi decides he’s had enough of the cuddle-hogging piece of shit.

Wordlessly, he crosses to your side of the room and lifts the cat from its perch, ignoring your protests as he sets it down on the floor and tells it to ‘scram, you little fuck.’ He uses a hand to dust your lap free of any microscopic cat particles Dante probably left behind before lying down his head down once he was satisfied. He grabs your hand to put it on his hair.

“Stroke.” He orders, eyes closing.

“What? No! You pushed off Dante.”

“He was in my spot.”

“You couldn’t have given up your lap pillow for one night?”

“One night?” He scoffs and turns to look at you. “You’ve been abandoning me for two weeks. That disgusting, tic-infested, rabies-carrying slob has no business sitting on your lap.”

“He’s not disgusting, you gave him a shower before you agreed to let me keep him. And I took him the vet to make sure he had all his shots. He’s clean, Levi.”

“Tch, good. Now throw him out and let him find someone else to freeload from.”

“Okay, what’s going on?” You guffaw. “You’ve been grumpier than usual. And why’re you being such an ass to Dante? He’s just a cat.”

“Don’t think he’s special in some way. I’m an ass to everyone.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re always extra mean to him?”

He doesn’t reply. His lips are downturned into a frown when he looks away with a click of his tongue, and you realize with a sigh you won’t be getting an answer from your cryptic roommate soon. Your fingers start mindlessly stroking his undercut when you get lost in your thoughts— a habit you developed through years of Levi using your lap as a pillow. He always complained the first few times you did it but you knew it calmed both him and you, and that it put both your minds at ease. Moreso Levi right now, apparently.

You’re keenly aware of how he seems to curl up into you the more you keep going. You watch as his shoulders slump down when you stroke the side of his face, and his eyebrows relax slightly. From your angle, you could even see the way his eyes close in content. Maybe even a tiny smile if you were being delusional.

Your lip twitches upward.

“Oh my god, Levi, are you jealous of a cat?”

“Shut up and play with my hair.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iii. third terrace: wrath

“You owe me a new cravat.”

You blink up at your roommate. “What?”

“You owe me a new cravat.” He repeats. He pulls from his pocket a white piece of fabric— barely recognizable— torn into shreds, releases it mid-air. It gently lands on your open palm.

“Wait, did Dante do this?” You ask, eyeing the slik in your hands.

“Unless you went feral in the middle of the fucking night and decided to cut up my clothes, yes.”

“Oh my god, Levi, I’m so sorry. I swear Dante will never—“

“You actually owe me three cravats,” he interjects. “The first two I overlooked since they weren’t that expensive but I draw the line here.” His lips are downturned into a frown, eyes poorly concealing his clear distaste. “This one’s my favorite and it was made from silk.”

You eye the fabric in your hands once more before nodding in understanding, setting down the once beautiful cravat before taking out your wallet. It was only fair that you paid him back; he was being more than generous with letting your cat stay and keeping it a secret, and now you wonder how many bad things Dante’s done that Levi’s overlooked or simply never brought up with you.

“Sure, I’m really sorry. How much do I owe you?”

Levi doesn’t say anything. Instead he pulls out his phone and types something on what you could only assume was google, most likely looking for the same brand of the cravat your cat had just torn into shreds. You weren’t entirely sure how much those could cost, but surely you could afford—

“What the fuck!” You screech, eyeing the page with very, very hefty price tags listed. Holy fucking hell where did he even get the money to buy something so expensive. Gulping, you nervously look up at your unimpressed roommate. You already knew he was taking it easy on you; his aura was the only thing intimidating, at least he wasn’t giving you the murder eyes. And even though he was a man of his word, you were thankful he hasn’t reported Dante.

Still, it didn’t change the fact that Levi looked pissed beyond belief.

“Uhm... can I pay you with a check that’ll definitely bounce?”

“You will pay me in cash.”

“Fuck, fine!”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iv. fourth terrace: sloth

Levi silently works on his desk. His laptop’s open in fromt of him, numerous notes from classes and books from the library surrounding him. The gentle sounds of clicking and clacking echoe throughout the room as fingers typed at the keyboard, eyes concentrated and lips pulled taught as he focuses on his task. He’s on a roll. He’s almost done with this part of his research, nothing could snap him out of this, he just needs to—

“Levi, when do you think Dante will come back to me?”

He stops typing and grits his teeth.

This is how it’s been the entire night. Ten minutes of peace before you ask him some stupid questions that could’ve been answered with common sense.

“Fuck if I care.”

“Do you think it was something I did?”

He resumes typing. “Yes.”

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

“No.”

“Even after all we’ve been through?”

“Still no.”

“I miss him,” you sigh. “I miss him so much.”

“Then you shouldn’t have left the door open.”

It’s been a week since Dante escaped the dorm and Levi doesn’t understand why you’re still so depressed about it. I mean, you only lost a cat that you loved and treasured and treated like family. Surely a week of moping around in your pajamas and eating nothing but chips and soda was catharsis enough.

He hears you shift in your burrito blanket, presumably to turn away from him so you can sulk into the wall next to your bed. Good. Now he can get back to working on—

“Levi do you think Dante-“

“Enough.” He grits, slamming his laptop shut.

“Where’re you going?” You ask, eyeing the way he hurriedly stuffs papers and books into his bag along with his laptop.

“Out.” He replies, grabbing his keys and his coat. “I can’t stand this shit anymore.”

Your head is burried in your blankets when he slams the door shut and all you could do was slump down because great. You lost Dante, and now you’ve royally pissed off Levi.

Great. Just fucking great.

Unlike your cat, however, your roommate comes back hours later, just before curfew. He doesn’t bother with a hello— he never does— and neither do you, opting to stay hidden underneath the sheets. Though suddenly, there’s a dip in the mattress followed by a pur next to your head.

Could it be?

“Dante?” You murmur, lifting your head from underneath your cocoon of fabric. Small black paws and silver eyes meet your gaze. “Dante!” Immediately sitting up, you pulled him to your lap, scratching his little head and cooing about how much you missed him as he purred and curled into to you.

Levi would never say it, but he missed seeing you smile at the little fleabag.

You turn to look at your roommate. “How’d you find him?”

“Asked around the campus. He wandered into another dorm building and probably thought it was ours.”

“Well yeah but... I thought you hated him?”

“I do.” He replies instantly.

“Then why’d you find him?”

“I hate him, not you.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

v. fifth terrace: avarice

“I fucking hate both of you,” Levi grumbles, staring at the dorm.

Towers of boxes lined his supposed to be clean dorm room. He had a hard time prying the door open since it was blocked, and he wasn’t even sure how the boxes weren’t blocking out the light from how high they were piled. Dante’s sat on a stack of box directly next to the door, purring and flicking his tail around. Levi squints his eyes and glares at the little shit.

“You especially.”

“Mrow?”

Levi’s day had been, with no irony or sarcasm at all, amazing. He got a good grade on his research paper; the guy in front of him at the cafe accidentally ordered an extra serving of (coincidentally, Levi’s favorite) tea and gave it to him for free; and he got full marks for the presentation he’s been worrying about for weeks. His class even got dismissed early so he had an extra hour for lunch. He knew you didn’t have classes, so in honor of his great day he thought he’d do something nice and take you out for lunch. His treat, of course.

But any trace of his good mood vanished when he went back to the dorms and got greeted to a room that looked like it came from an episode of Hoarders.

This is what he gets for trying to be nice.

“Levi! Is that you?” You called out.

“What the fuck happened?”

You laugh sheepishly— at least Levi thinks you do. He couldn’t see you beyond the hundred boxes that took up your shared room. He hears some rustling and the sound of things being moved around before finally your head pops out from behind a wall of brown, smiling at him apologetically before walking towards him (and tripping a few times).

“Remember when I said I’d order some toys for Dante as a surprise?”

Levi’s eye twitches. “Don’t tell me—”

“I accidentally ordered 10,000 instead of 10. Online shopping struggles, am I right?” You nervously chuckle at his pissed off face. Levi was not in the mood.

Your smile widens as you make twinkly gestures with your hands. “So uh... surprise?”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

vi. sixth terrace: gluttony

The clinic is still when you first entered.

The harsh smell of alcohol and sterile metal makes your nose grimace, and the coldness of the thermostat brings goosebumps to your arms. Behind the wall, somewhete in the waiting room, cats are hissing, dogs are barking, and you could even hear the sound of birds angrily chirping and rattling their cages.

Dante cowers in fear on the silver table, and your heart aches. His ears are down and his fur’s standing on its ends, but you couldn’t comfort him. Not right now, at least. The veterinarian still needed to do a few more checks.

You gulp, “how’s... how’s Dante looking, doc?”

“Not good,” she murmurs. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and she takes a deep sigh as she eyes the information on the chart. “It’ll take months before he can walk properly again, possibly more if we don’t do anything about it soon.”

“Don’t tell me... is he—-”

“I’m sorry, my dear,” she sighs. “But your cat is heavily obese.”

The corners of your lips twitch down into a frown, and your palm is warm when you start to stroke Dante’s fur. He calms down a bit from your touch, less on edge but still guarded as he warily eyes the doctor’s gloved hands.

“But I don’t understand,” you reply. “I’ve been following the recommended diet you put him on, and I haven’t been feeding him anything other than the cat food and vitamins you recommended. How’s he still obese?”

“Well, we could look into other solutions, but for now I think we ought to look at whether or not Dante has an underlying health problem.”

Levi tunes out the chatter between you and the vet, bored eyes staring into nothing. He’s leaning against a wall and he’s watching the cat carrier. Your bag’s slung over his shoulders and your coat’s in his arms, and he was sure you didn’t even need him to be here for “moral support.”

He mentally scoffs. You probably just needed a chauffeur to drive you for free, and honestly, Levi would rather feel like a chauffeur than a coat rack.

His eyes make contact with Dante’s, and all the fear in the cat’s eyes is suddenly gone, replaced with a steely glare and bared teeth. A warning, one no one else notices but him.

Levi gives him a solitary nod, understanding what Dante wanted to say.

Don’t tell Y/N I’ve been sneaking to the neighbors.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

vii. seventh terrace: desire

There’s something about the buzz of alcohol and nicotine that makes Levi confident—- the liquid courage in his veins and the smoke in his lungs clouding his judgement. Perhaps that’s where he finally gets the balls to cross the room, drunken eyes on your equally intoxicated ones, before he pulls you in for a kiss.

The kiss starts slow, with lips just interlocking and lightly testing the waters. But then he feels your tongue make its way inside his mouth and your fingers weave into his hair to tug him closer, and Levi loses the last threads of inhibition he has. His tongue massages yours and one of his arm wraps around your waist, the other comes down to grope and knead your ass. He feels you walk backwards and your hand pulls at his tie, dragging him with you. Suddenly he’s trapping you against a wall, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around his hips so he could grind his crotch into yours.

Levi doesn’t expect his first kiss with you to be like this; messy and full of tongue and spit, full of fingers clawing at clothes and small grunts escaping your lips. He was hoping it’d be more romantic, with warm cheeks and fingers softly intertwining, shy kisses exchanged through little smiles.

But he’s not about to complain—- he’s wanted to be with you for years, and god he loved having you like this. Loved having you all hot and desperate, trapped between his firm chest and the wall. His cock is hard in his pants, and he just about growls when he feels you start to undo his belt, the fly of his pants coming down as you got on your knees and stared up at him with innocent eyes as you pull out his aching boner. There’s a cheeky grin your face when you pump at his length, and your tongue peaks out of your mouth before—

“Levi, are you okay?”

His eyes snap open, and he’s greeted to the sight of your worried face directly above his.

“Fuck!” he yells, and his forehead slams into yours when he flinches away. “Sorry, sorry” he quickly ammends when you yelp in pain.

He’s covered in sweat, he notices. Chest heaving, heart beating a little too loud for his liking, and he silently pulls the blankets over his cum stained boxers when you sit beside him.

God, he was really hoping you wouldn’t notice the fact that he came in his pants like a high schooler. And it was before dream you even got to suck him off. How much more pathetic could he be.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“Yeah, m’fine, it’s just...” your eyes are distracted, staring off into space. Fingers trace his thighs, and you sigh. “You were having a nightmare,”

Levi blinks. “What?”

“You were having a nightmare,” you repeat. “Kept tossing and turning and groaning in your sleep. And you kept making these... funny faces,”

“...right,” he nods. Sure, a nightmare. A nightmare he never wanted to wake up from.

It takes about ten minutes to reassure you that yes, he was fine, don’t mind the way his cheeks are flushed, he was just... shaken up from his nightmare, is all. Then you’re back to bed, sleeping the night away, and twenty minutes later he’s on his way back to bed too; this time with a fresh pair of boxers and a content look on his face, all thanks to him finishing off his fantasies in the communal bathroom during his shower.

The door makes a quiet click when he shuts it behind him, and he freezes when he catches sight of Dante sat up on your bed, tail flicking behind him as he gives Levi a knowing look.

Levi squints his eyes, and he threateningly whispers, “you tell no one.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

epilogue

The half empty room brings a frown to your face, and all you could do was pout as you sealed up the last of the boxes.

“Why do you have to leave again?” you ask, and Levi turns around as he finishes folding the last of his clothes. He shrugs. “Cats aren’t allowed in the dorms.”

You owed him your entire college career, that much was sure. The RA’s found out about Dante, and Levi had taken the fall to spare you. He wasn’t required to move out since it was only his first strike, but he insisted on doing so so that Dante wouldn’t be alone, saying he already found an apartment nearby and he’ll never hear the end of it from you if he didn’t take Dante with him.

Bullshit. Levi had a soft spot for Dante, you knew that much. He wasn’t doing it for you, he was doing it for himself. Though normally you’d be overjoyed to know that Levi really did secretly like the cat he pretended to hate so much, this time, you were just pissed. You couldn’t believe a fucking cat was stealing away the guy you’ve been in love with since high school. Sure, you were too much of a coward to ask him out, but he was basically your boyfriend already—- the entire campus knew you inadvertently had dibs on each other.

“Yeah but... do you have to leave me alone?”

“I asked you to come with me, and you said no.” He points out. “I still don’t see why when we’ve been roommates since we were freshmen.”

“It’s different off-campus!”

“How?”

“Because it’s like... it’s like we’re moving in together, y’know?” you reply. “And it seemed wrong to move in with you when we’re not even dating.”

“Let’s do it, then.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, handing you a spare key to what you could only assume was his new apartment. You glance between him and the key in your hands, and he rolls his eyes when he realizes that you still don’t get it.

“I know we’re doing this backwards since couples don’t typically move in before the first date,” he says before gesturing to Dante. “But we already have a son, and I know you’re his favorite parent. We can share custody until you can move in with me.”

You blink. “What?” Your brain stopped working when Levi referred to you as a couple, and you’re pretty sure your heart stopped beating too. At this point, anything he said went in one ear and out the other. He flicks your forehead.

“Hey— ow! What was that for?”

“You weren’t listening.”

“And you’re being a prick!” you grumble. “It hurts, y’know.”

He scoffs. “What do you want me to do? Kiss it better?” he scoffs.

Your mouth moves faster than your brain, “I’d rather you kiss me.”

Wait. What?

Before you could go back on your words, Levi shrugs. Warm palms gently grab your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his. Your eyes widen and you momentarily freeze, brain definitely not working anymore. He hesitates when you don’t make a move, but then you’re shyly leaning forward, and that was all the confirmation Levi needs.

“If you insist,” he whispers, and suddenly your words die on your tongue when his lips interlock with yours.

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reinvent-and-believe · 3 years

Text

saying your names

Prompt: hallucination Relationships: Geralt & Visenna Rating: T Content Warnings: unintentional but constant misgendering by a parent; depiction of gender dysphoria in a small child; reference to child self-injury (scratching); abandonment issues; minor book spoilers Summary: Visenna's child is claimed by a witcher through the Law of Surprise. When she bears a daughter instead of the promised son, she thinks she's cheated Destiny. But Destiny rarely accepts such defeat. (Or - the trans Geralt mommy issues fic)

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

i. The Brave Knight

There’s an old fairy tale from far-away Toussaint, one Visenna remembers her grandmother telling her when she was little more than a babe, of a cohort of the bravest knights who gathered at the behest of the first duke to slay monsters and defeat villains and protect the land from all manner of evil. They were five in total, but none rivalled the gallant Sir Geralt, who defended the innocent and the weak, who perfectly embodied the Virtues, who fearlessly and faithfully loved the beautiful maiden Liliana. It’s a story like no other, full of heroics and chivalry, grand quests and epic romance. Visenna remembers sighing as a little girl, of braiding flowers into her shining copper hair and pretending to be Lady Liliana, rescued by that most puissant and most chivalrous of knights.

She hopes that her own daughter will love the tales as much as she did, so she recounts them while Greta lies in bed, wide dark eyes barely blinking as she soaks in every detail. She’s two now and obsessed with stories, any silly rambling thing Visenna remembers from childhood or improvises about the forest creatures near the village, but none have captivated her quite like this tale.

The next day, Visenna hears her daughter whacking at the swaying cattails at the bank of the river with a stick. “I defeat you!” comes the tremulous cry. “I Sir Geralt! I brave knight!”

It’s a small thing, and silly, yet Visenna goes cold.

ii. The Babe

When she realizes she’s with child, Visenna knows it will be a boy, feels it as sure as she feels the wind on her face, the blood pounding in her veins. She’s happy for a time. She knows the horrors women face, has seen, has felt firsthand the cruelties the world inflicts on beautiful little girls. Better a boy, then. Better a boy with a chance at a good life, a boy she can teach and train, a boy who won’t beat or violate or torment.

A mere month before the babe is due, the man returns, and finds her with child, and tells her what he’s done. He blames Destiny and the Law of Surprise and Tradition as Visenna learns a new type of cruelty men can inflict.

And so she hardens herself, tells herself that she will not become attached to what’s growing within her, this life promised to pay a life debt. “Don’t be absurd,” her friends tell her, through nervous glances. “You always assume the worst. It may well be a girl. The witcher won’t have need of a girl.”

But Visenna knows it, feels it with every spark of chaos within her and every pulse she sends out. The babe will be a boy, and she will have to give him up to the witchers, to be trained and transmuted into something other, something more and something less than the child she’ll birth.

And so Visenna grows cold.

When the midwife puts the squalling red girl with dark hair and wide dark eyes in Visenna’s arms, she sobs for days, sobs until she has no tears left and her eyes are raw and swollen. She won’t let the tiny thing out of her sight, barely lets others hold the babe, even in her utter exhaustion. Destiny may have promised her child to the witchers, but Destiny made the folly of giving her a daughter instead of the promised son.

iii. Greta

Greta will not wear her clothes.

At first, it’s almost a game. Visenna dresses her in a frock while the three-year-old protests then glares in turn when she’s overridden. She moves stiffly in the garment, pulling at the sleeves and tugging at the skirt, but she complies. But the minute she’s out of her mother’s sight, the dress comes off, and Visenna finds her naked, regardless of the weather. And the process repeats.

The struggle over clothing is only the beginning. Generally obedient, respectful, intelligent, Greta is nonetheless not an easy child, prone to inconsolable fits of panic and distress, prone to disappearing if not constantly monitored. It’s as though Visenna has birthed two different children. There’s the sullen, timid girl who hates wearing clothing, who barely speaks, who flinches at the sound of her own name, who stiffens in panic sometimes when she’s called, who cries at the slightest provocation, who goes missing only to be found after a frantic hour of searching lying on the floor in the narrow space between her bed and the wall, staring blankly, hearing nothing, seeing nothing. Then there’s the other child, the one who cuts dark curls short with the pruning shears from the shed, who runs fearlessly through the woods, slaying invisible monsters all around, yelling and laughing and breathless.

When a young couple with a son not much older than Greta moves into a nearby cottage, Visenna hopes that companionship will stabilize her daughter’s volatile, inexplicable moods. Instead, it leads to an immediate altercation: on the first day Greta and the boy Marek play together, the boy’s father shows up on Visenna’s doorstep, furious, with a wide, bleeding gash in his hand. He’d found them wearing each other’s clothes, he tells her. Greta had refused to surrender Marek’s clothes, and when he moved to force her out of them, she’d bitten his hand. “Like a rabid beast,” he spits out as Visenna runs past him to the small shack where Greta makes herself as small as possible, shaking all over.

Visenna shoves a few coins at the man with a glare. “Buy your son another outfit,” she snaps, and when she kneels down to Greta’s level the terrified child’s arms wrap immediately around her neck. She takes her child home in the roughspun tunic and trousers.

(Maybe she should punish the child for biting, but Visenna knows the ways men can be cruel, had seen the terror in her child’s huge brown eyes. Even if he meant no harm in trying to retrieve his son’s clothes, she can’t help being glad the child bit him rather than permit his touch.)

Visenna has never listened to Greta’s thoughts before, rarely listens to anyone’s on purpose, hates the uneasy sense of violation the act stirs up in her. But as she carries the silent, shaking child home, the thoughts ring so loudly she can’t keep them out.

Not an idiot girl. Not an idiot girl. Not an idiot girl. Not an idiot girl.

Then:

Not a girl.

iv. The Child

The morning after the incident with the neighbor, Visenna lays two outfits side by side on the bed: the tunic and trousers nicked from the neighbor boy, or the dress most frequently tolerated, a plain shift of soft linen, comfortable and loose.

"Which would you rather wear today?" Visenna asks, making the beds as usual. She hears the sharp intake of breath, sees out of the corner of her eye the hesitation, and then the child grabs the boy's clothes and cradles them in trembling arms.

Visenna visits a tailor and trades in little frocks for breeches and shirts. She watches her child’s face light up when she presents them, watches the child run reverent fingers over each garment, little hands doing their best to neatly fold each piece.

She stops calling the child Greta; stops calling the child anything but child. The child doesn’t seem to mind this namelessness; on the contrary, the child thrives. The too-thin frame rounds out with healthy, nearly chubby development as the child begins to eat more than a few bites at each meal; weak, skinny arms and legs grow strong with constant running and playing in the woods near the house. Banished is the pale, terrified little girl; only the rambunctious, talkative, joyful child remains.

"When I'm a knight," the child tells her one day, coming in from the yard wearing a bucket as a helmet, "I'm going to ride a big horse."

"Oh, a big horse," Visenna echoes, ladling the soup into a wooden bowl and blowing gently to cool it. "What will you name the horse?"

The child considers this. "Does it have to have a name?"

"All creatures need a name."

The child doesn't speak for a long while. Then that piping, gentle voice rings out. "What if the horse hates its name? It won’t be able to tell me."

Visenna sets the bowl down on the table. She doesn't ask any of the questions pounding through her head as she looks at her nameless child, lost in thought. She doesn’t think about Destiny, how a witcher may well show up at her door at any moment looking for their payment, doesn’t think about taking the child there herself. "Helmet off," she says instead, running a hand through dark curls when the child obeys. "Come, eat your soup."

v. The Butcher

She first hears whispers of the Butcher of Blaviken when she’s traveling through Poviss, brought north by an outbreak of smallpox needing healers. She hears of the vile, deranged, white-haired witcher who slaughtered nearly an entire village unprovoked, even women and children. She thinks little of it. The child she left with the witchers over half a century ago had brown hair, and the years would not have turned it so quickly, not on a witcher.

If he’s even still alive.

She puts the thought away, carefully, as she has for decades.

She thinks of it a little more in Kovir. “You’re one of them!” shrieks a woman in the tavern, pointing at a bulky man sitting in the corner. “One of them witchers like that Butcher! I seen your wolf necklace!”

All eyes train onto this disfigured witcher who is not Visenna’s child. (Does her child bear scars like this? Do his shoulders stoop in such defeat?) He scrubs a square hand over his face, looking almost pained, before he shoves away from the table in silence and leaves.

School of the Wolf, then, just like the witcher she’d surrendered her child to with naught but a letter left at the inn where he was staying. Your Child Surprise will be at the crossroads by the river at midday. A few brief, stilted sentences explaining that the child was different from other boys but Destiny had chosen him nonetheless. A terse plea that the witcher treat the child with kindness, to protect him if he could. A postscript, written in a shakier hand than the rest of the letter. My son’s name is Geralt.

Vesemir. The child’s father had called him old, grey-haired even then. Is Vesemir this Butcher, the ruthless, barbarous old witcher who leaves a trail of fresh corpses in his wake? Had she entrusted the helpless child to a merciless brute all these years ago?

It’s not until the notice board outside of Tridam that she understands. It’s a fairly standard notice concerning some vague, nondescript monster that’s caused disappearances, pleading for help from any witcher, excepting the butcher Geralt. Show your face in Tridam and we’ll finish you off like they should have done in Blaviken.

Her child, the Butcher of Blaviken.

She doesn’t know what happened in Blaviken, can’t find a clear telling. Killed a woman, some say, killed an army, killed all but three people, killed everyone down to the dogs and cows and sheep in his rage. Tales grow in the telling, she knows, but she can’t dispute it. Perhaps he is evil incarnate, perhaps by sending him to the witchers she doomed the continent to bloodshed, perhaps he is the monster in these furious whispers.

But she can’t help remembering the tiny, terrified body, rocking in the corner of a shack, those wide eyes staring up at her in panic. “Like a rabid beast,” the man had said, but Visenna found only a petrified child shaking in the corner.

vi. The White Wolf

The young man swaggers towards Visenna. Between the bright turquoise doublet, the enormous feather swooping dramatically through the air on his jauntily tilted hat, and the self-assurance of his stride, he looks like a veritable peacock.

It’s her own fault. She knows she’d been staring, but the sound of that name on his lips…

“Lovely evening, isn’t it?” His smile is bright and surprisingly genuine, reaching all the way up to his eager blue eyes. He’s younger up close than she’d imagined from across the tavern, barely more than a boy. “Though not half so lovely as you, I daresay. Might I interest you in a drink?”

She nods, silent. Watches him charm a passing barmaid who blushes and quickly returns with the desired ale. He slips into the chair across from Visenna, resting his elbows on the table and lacing his long fingers together beneath his chin, fixing her with a wide-eyed, adoring smile.

Before he can speak, she asks, “Your song. About the witcher.” She pauses, unsure what she means to ask. “Did you write it?”

Somehow the boy looks even more delighted. “Indeed I did! By the gods, it’s wonderful to chat with a fan. It’s one of my most recent compositions. How did you like it?”

“Hmm.” The boy’s song had been so jarringly different from any reference to the child she bore than she’s ever heard. In the bard’s honeyed voice, he sounded almost heroic. She hesitates. “Do you know him?”

“Only a little,” he admits, but there’s a slight flush on his childish face that he attempts to cover with bravado. “The song is the true telling of our grand adventure. I accompanied the White Wolf on his quest to defeat the Devil of Posada, the most terrifying monster to ever...well, terrorize the good people of the Valley of the Flowers.”

“And he’s...he’s not what people say?” Those huge brown eyes staring up at her, tiny body trembling. “Not a butcher?”

“Oh my good lady, not at all!” The bard’s expression of dismay is guileless, earnest. “He saved me, put himself between me and harm’s way when we were captured by the elves, offered his own life for mine.”

A life debt. Just as the child’s father had promised the Law of Surprise to the old witcher, the vow that had set the course of Geralt’s life before he was even born. And now this strange boy owes Geralt a life debt of his own.

“So that’s why,” she confirms cautiously. “Why you write songs for him. Make him the hero when men would be more than happy to remember him as a monster.”

The boy hesitates, his charismatic blustering slipping as he bites at his bottom lip. He reaches distractedly into his pocket, finding some trinket he rolls about in his palm to occupy his busy, nervous hand before he slowly answers. “Even if he hadn’t saved my life I would have written about him. Well, not if I hadn’t survived that particular encounter, of course. But if I’d gotten away myself, or if I hadn’t followed him into the wild in the first place, I would still have written about him.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I…I don’t think he’s known very much kindness.” The bard doesn’t look at her, quite, as he speaks, slower and softer than before. “You ought to see the way he responds to a simple compliment, you’d think his head might explode, he twitches and looks bewildered and grunts angrily. It’d be amusing if it weren’t so very sad.” He’s quiet for a moment, tracing the wood grain in the table with his eyes as he gathers his thoughts. “But he’s kind, even if the world isn’t. He gave his reward for the contract to the…well, to someone who needed it more. And before that, he…” He glances down at the dull gold coin between his fingers, rubbing absently at worn, beveled edges, his face flushing prettily. “He liked my singing.”

She watches the bard, lost in thought and fiddling with a lone coin, for a long while.

vii. Geralt

A slip of a thing running through the woods. Frightened. Alone.

A fight. Gruesome, brutal, fast.

The stench of decay.

“And me? What did I do? I bandaged a wounded man who’d fainted away and put him on my cart and didn’t leave him to expire. It’s an ordinary matter.”

“It’s not so ordinary. I’ve been left...in similar situations...like a dog.”

Blood. Not running, red and healthy and clean; slow. Thick. Dark. Foul.

Infection.

Youths dancing in lusty delight on a warm spring night. A woman with raven curls, naked and wistful in his arms, the warmth of a bonfire lighting her face a beautiful gold. Children screaming, playing in a dried moat. A queen, formidable and sneering, full of contempt.

Hideous wounds, threatening the leg. Amputation may be necessary, without immediate intervention.

Resin in the air.

Ashen hair matted over the clumped, drying cake of blood deforming half of a pale face.

Black potion with a green seal. And then darkness.

Visenna awakes with a start.

The druids’ campsite is still, the last embers of the fire the only light in the darkness of the forest. She pulls the woolen cloak around her thin shoulders, grabs her medical bag, and goes to find the witcher that was once her child.

She finds him a pale and bloody mess on the back of a cart, eyes open and unseeing. He’s racked with feverish chills as his body desperately attempts to fight the infection poisoning him.

She helps the merchant move Geralt carefully onto blankets on the ground. She tends to him, as she’s tended to thousands of others. She cleans his wounds, scraping destroyed, decaying flesh away from healthy tissue, pulling the gentle pulses of chaos from the earth to purify his blood, draining infection and necrosis and narcotic alike from him.

She’d cleaned blood and dirt and debris from scraped knees, once, the too-fast beating of a little, huge heart pounding so loudly she could feel it. The wounds of childhood.

His pulse is slow, the drumbeat of a dirge.

She’s warm all over, suddenly, then cold. Her vision swims before her eyes.

A little more. The pulsing wanes, wavers as she begins to join him in the dark void beyond consciousness.

No.

She breathes, her eyes closed, then returns to her work.

She feels him stirring before he makes a movement, senses him swimming to the surface, coming to. He’s quiet, still, blank. When his eyes open, he’s staring at the treetops above them. His face is impassive. Lifeless.

The way she would find him, sometimes, after he went missing as a child. Staring at nothing. Trying not to be.

She can hear it in his voice. He knows.

His leg will heal, now. She’s done all she can.

She moves on to the bedsores, massaging ointment carefully into the open wounds. His body is stiff and unyielding beneath her touch.

She gives him what she can. “It’s my profession,” she says. Her voice is steady, cool. It’s no excuse, no answer, but it’s what she has. “The only thing I’ve ever been good at.” This much at least is true. This much she can give him.

She’s always known she would meet him again. She never sought him out, never avoided him. “People linked by destiny will always find each other.” She hears it, as though it’s someone else’s voice.

“I want you to look at me.” It’s a snarl. Not a sound she’s heard from those lips before. “How do you like my eyes? Do you know, Visenna, what they do to a witcher to improve his eyes?”

She knows enough. She meets his gaze.

Those eyes, the greatest marker of his difference, his inhumanity. They’re golden, now, instead of brown. His pupils are wide, round, black, pained. They aren’t so different. So monstrous.

Just the eyes of a terrified child lashing out in desperation.

“Do you know it doesn’t always work?” he demands.

“Stop it, Geralt.”

And something breaks.

“You don’t get to use that name!” There’s a frantic rage dripping off every syllable, hatred and agony, like a festering wound ripped open and left to bleed. He glares at her with a wild fury. “Vesemir gave me that name.”

And he’s a child, he’s three years old and screaming like he’s being tortured when she calls his given name. He’s five and distraught over the thought of a horse who hates its name and can’t tell anyone. He’s four and he’s a trembling mess with blood beneath his fingernails, shaking and unable to stop ripping at his own flesh.

“You trusted Destiny rather than trying to find me yourself,” he begs.

A child with nothing in the world running through the forest and into the arms of a witcher.

There’s a tear running down her face. It’s the only thing she can feel. “Don’t ask me any more questions,” Visenna says softly.

“Why?”

She’d known since before he was born that she wasn’t to keep him. That Destiny had other plans.

When she thought she had a daughter, there was hope.

“The answers will only hurt us both.” Carefully, Visenna presses him back into the makeshift sickbed.

“Yen was right.” His voice is low, barely audible, a broken murmur. “It’s not enough to be destined for each other.”

A child runs through the woods and finds a witcher waiting.

Brown curls become ashen locks. Eyes swirling brown and gold and green.

“Something more is needed.” He’s not speaking to her anymore. He’s staring up, at the treetops and through them to the stars above, his eyes losing and regaining focus. “I...I want…”

“No.” Her voice is soft, and she sees him relax into the smooth cadence in spite of himself. “Go to sleep, Geralt.” She hesitates as his eyes grow heavy, begin to drift shut, and she can’t help leaning toward him to gently whisper, “And just between us, Vesemir didn’t give you that name.” She lets herself reach out, carefully brushing white hair off his sweating brow. “It doesn’t change anything, but I’d like you to know that.”

“Visenna…”

“Sleep. I was just a dream.” She hesitates, watching silently as he fights the exhaustion, like a child fighting to stay awake past his bedtime, begging for one more story. “Sleep, Sir Geralt.”

He does.

viii. Sir Geralt

She does not see him again.

She travels to Sodden and heals the injured, soldier and mage alike.

She hears tales, as she has for years.

Geralt’s kidnapped a young Cintran princess for unspeakable, nefarious purposes.

Geralt died on Thanedd, caught up by chance in the mages’ bloody revolt.

Geralt led the forces of Lyria and Rivia against Nilfgaard, earning himself a knighthood and a position in Queen Meve’s army.

(She doesn’t believe any of them, doesn’t let herself care either way, but she hopes the latter is true. Hopes he lives out the rest of his days a brave knight, as he always dreamed of becoming.)

Visenna works. Cleans and stitches and bandages wounds, wanders from battleground to battleground. There’s no shortage of work for a healer.

So many tales of Geralt the witcher, Geralt the traitor, Geralt the butcher, the knight, the outlaw, the hero, the father. Of his victories and defeats, his loves and enemies, his transcendence, his demise.

Visenna listens to them all. Collects the stories, the lies, the praises, the calumnies. She draws them carefully within her. Carries them with her as she continues on the path.

For all the rumors and speculation and ballads, of all things, for all the different Geralts, there’s one that’s hers and hers alone. A skinny, adventurous child with brown curls and a bucket-helmet falling into his eyes who swings a gnarled oak stick as a sword. He’s ever vigilant, ever ready to defend the weak against the unrelenting onslaught of monsters only he can see.

#the witcher fic #the witcher #geralt of rivia #visenna #trans geralt #my fic #still don't really know how i feel about this but here it is #witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

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little-diable · 3 years

Text

Five times - Draco Malfoy (fluff)

Request by my sweet willow-lillies Hiya! I was wondering if you could do a "five times the reader realized she loved him, and one time he realized he loved her" with draco malfoy ? 🥺👉👈 I just love the idea that he would blurt his feelings as soon as he figures out hes in love with the reader (also if you want to do this with anyone else I dont mind!)

Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: five times (y/n) can’t stop falling deeper for the prince of Slytherin and the time he finally makes (y/n) his.

I. The time he had to catch her as she was falling

“Stop staring”, Jasmin mumbled, eyes following (y/n)s gaze, resting on the silvery haired prince of Slytherin. “I’m not staring”, she found her friends smirking features, (y/n)s cheeks were flushed, hating her body for betraying her like that, “is that drool? (Y/n) you have some-”, she slapped her friends hand away, rolling her eyes at the giggles that left Jasmin.

(Y/n) couldn’t remember a day where she hadn’t been into Draco, mesmerized by his bright eyes, the mysterious aura that followed him around and that breathtaking smile he shot her every single time she walked past him.

Though she had barely exchanged a word with him in the last five years she got pulled in deeper and deeper, there was no way out, even though she knew that Draco wasn’t interested in her.

Jasmin tugged on (y/n)s hand, “come on, I don’t want to be late for Snape's class”, she had to shake her head, to fully rip herself out of her daydream, stopping herself from finding his entrancing features once again.

“Did you finish your essay?”, (y/n) combed through her bag, mumbling the words as she tried to find her homework, not noticing how she slowly but surely was running into a broad chest. She didn’t have any time to register what was going on as she began to sway, blinking a few times till her eyes fell upon Draco, hands trying to reach for him as she fell backwards.

“I got you”, he had his arms slung around her waist, stabilizing her before she’d actually crash down onto the floor. Sparks were shooting up her spine, skin tingling from his tight grip. “I’ll see you later (y/n), try not to run into anybody else”, his smirk made her smile, nervously chuckling as he squeezed her side one last time, brushing past her.

II. The time they had to share an umbrella

“Alright everybody, listen up, I want you on your best behavior”, McGonagall’s voice reverberated through Hogwarts old school ground, eyes focused on her tiny frame. They were just about to make their way to Hogsmeade, about to indulge themselves with rare sweets, chocolate frogs and butter beer.

A smile tugged on (y/n)s lips, she loved afternoons like this, finally some time to relax, time to keep themselves distracted from the essays that were waiting to be written, the exams that would come up in the following days.

Even though she tried to keep her eyes off his frame, (y/n) could tell that he was close, mind focused on the expensive scent of his cologne, the laugh that would wake the butterflies in her tummy. “(Y/n)”, his voice made her freeze, turning towards his tall frame, eyes instantly hooked onto his bright ones, “come here”, Draco reached a hand out for her to take.

She hadn’t noticed how rain slowly began to pour down on them, wetting her clothes as her thoughts were still circling around Draco Malfoy. He pulled (y/n) underneath his black umbrella, smiling at her, “are you cold? Do you want my coat?”, his warm breath clashed against her cold cheeks, voice dripping with concern as he watched her shudder.

(Y/n) only shook her head no, she didn’t trust her voice, didn’t trust herself to properly answer him, she’d probably blurt out some embarrassing words anyways. Her heart was rapidly beating, palms sweaty as he pulled her even closer, arm slowly making its way around her waist, trying to keep her warm, somehow.

III. The time he saved her from Snape’s wrath

“(Y/l/n)!”, the deep, emotionless voice ripped her out of her slumber, head still placed on her books as her eyes fluttered open, trying to locate her surroundings.

The voice repeated her name, finally pulling her back into reality, she jumped in her seat, flushed cheeks on full show as she seemed to realize that she had fallen asleep, in Snape’s class. No words rolled off her tongue, her pupils were slightly dilated, insides churning as the professor took a step towards her desk, “am I boring you that much (y/l/n)?”.

Some slurred, incoherent words left her as she tried to sort her thoughts, body burning in exhaustion, she hadn’t been able to catch much sleep in the past few days, mind focused on her upcoming exams. “It’s my fault professor”, Draco's voice made Snape turn towards him, waiting for Malfoy to keep on talking.

“(Y/n) helped me study yesterday, I kept her awake for too long”, his shiny eyes met hers for a glimpse of a moment, winking at her confused self as Snape rolled his eyes, “next time don’t bother your classmates with your problems Malfoy”, his cloak moved with every step the tall professor took, adding to his dark aura.

“Thank you”, (y/n) mouthed, running a trembling hand through her hair, nervously biting her lip as she tried to catch up with Snape’s rambling. Jasmin kicked (y/n)s shin underneath the table, “something going on between you and your lover boy?”, the words made a small, breathless groan spill from (y/n)s lips, “don’t tease me”.

IV. The time he showed her how to dance

Soft music echoed through the room, drowning out the professor's voice as she explained the dance steps, she could already tell that most students were hopeless cases. “Find yourself a partner”, (y/n)’s eyes wandered along her fellow classmates, trying to figure out who she’d ask to be her dance partner, getting distracted by Pansy’s annoying voice.

The Slytherin kept on clinging to Draco, annoyed with his bored seeming self, “no, I already have a partner Pansy”, the words made (y/n)s heart skip a few beats, weight seemed to rest on her shoulders, of course he’d never ask her to be his partner.

She cursed her mind for pushing her into those daydreams that would leave her disappointed and confused every time she’d get pulled back into the harsh reality. Draco grasped (y/n)s wrist, “please tell me you don’t have a partner yet”, he seemed stressed, as if he was trying to run away from something, or rather someone.

“No I don’t”, (y/n) smiled up at him, eyes finding Pansy’s annoyed ones, a fire was burning behind them, probably already plotting (y/n)s death. “Perfect”, Draco began to pull her into the middle of the room, surrounded by a few other couples, waiting for the music to start.

“I don’t really know how to dance”, it was just above a whisper, eyes wandering down his frame, onto his feet, wondering if he’d change his mind and find another partner. “Don’t worry, I’ll lead”, Draco pulled a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, smiling at her as they began to move to the music, swaying around the room, pulled into their own bubble of happiness, only focused on one another.

V. The time he told her she looked gorgeous

She had her eyes focused on her reflection, smoothing the fabric of her gown, trying to smile at herself, it was the night of the yule ball, a night where she’d be able to let loose, to enjoy some time with her friends. But the thought of seeing Draco with the girl he had asked to be his date broke her heart apart, made (y/n) doubt if she should go down there in the first place.

“Oh no, stop that frown”, Jasmin entered the bathroom, tugging on her friends elbow, “don’t tell me you don’t want to be my date any longer”, she pouted, finally making (y/n) smile, chuckling as she pulled her out of the room, down the stairs. By now they could already hear the soft music, the chatter of their classmates as they excitedly stumbled down the stairs.

(Y/n) couldn’t stop herself from searching for his frame, lips slightly parted as she took in the sight of his suit, the gelled back hair and that addicting laugh that rumbled through him as he spoke to his friends. He looked happy, truly did, carrying that bright smile on the lips she so desperately wanted to kiss.

“(Y/n)”, Jasmin sighed, shooting her friend a sad smile as she pushed a glass into her hand, “want to dance?”, Jasmin twirled around in her forest green dress, set on keeping (y/n) distracted, to put a smile onto her lips. Just as (y/n) wanted to reply she felt somebody pinch her sides, “may I have this dance?”, Draco patiently waited for (y/n) to give Jasmin the glass back, wordlessly taking his hand, following him to the dance floor.

“You look gorgeous (y/n)”, Draco's hand wandered down her spine, her skin burned with every touch of his, struggling to process the words he had just spoken.

The time he finally seemed to realize his feelings for her

“You know, it took me a while to realize it, to understand why my heart would suddenly begin to race as you were close, the need to touch you at every given chance. But I think I finally understand what’s going on”, Draco pressed her closer against his chest, hand cupping her cheeks, “do you?”, (y/n)s gaze fell down to his lips, how easy it would be to finally kiss him.

“I do”, Draco softly pressed his lips against hers, smiling at the soft gasp that left her, hands fisting the fabric of his suit, not letting go of him. “I am sorry that it took me this long to realize it”, he mumbled against her lips, kissing her once again before he moved away from her, twirling her around. A soft chuckle bubbled out of her, finally everything seemed to fall into place.

#Draco Malfoy #Draco Malfoy imagine #Draco Malfoy x reader #harry potter #Harry Potter imagine #five times #Tom Felton

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luminous-shifting-vibes · 3 years

Text

*sequel* to actual fucking quotes from the shiftblr coffeehouse discord server

once again, it's out of context because x1000 funnier

also x1000 longer than previous post

"ur satan is gnc af"

"Bestie I’m already having gender envy over a fucking demon please"

"O_O ODEPIJHFbavevisdpvfhzdcnjawedsidjksjdkoeirjfmkdsoeirujdksodifjndmksoidfjdksidfj ITS" NOT IN MY FRAFTS IS SPEDNT 1 hour PN THAT SHIT"

"AUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH"

"ohoho sexy"

"I am very proud of myself"

"himbo x edgy fuck"

"YOU COULD SQUISH HES CHEECKS"

"he has teefs"

"SQUASH"

"good for biting 📷"

"he's a himbo basically"

"B͂̒̄iͫ̍̈tͧ̓ͯè̄̇"

"bifth"

"i havent watched blue exorcist in years but mr okumura my beloved </3"

"MY LIFE QUESTIONS HAVE BEEN ANSWERED"

"is it important information to mention that the person i put up for my turn is the son of satan" "I know like 1 thing about everyone who isnt ranboo lmfao"

"crimes"

"tumblr sexyman"

"idk why but my first thought was cowboy onceler"

"I vibe with him but he is very long and twisty"

"steampunk e-girl"

"steampunk tumblr sexyman"

"Canonically bi crimelord I agree!!"

"OOO FRIEND SHAPED"

"ARTIST SIGHTED"

"they look like someone i would want to be friends with but is way cooler than me so i'd never actually talk to them"

"babby..... would die for him"

"honestly i probably kin him"

"i'm sure he's lovely but he looks way too much like my ex i'm sorry-"

"i'd be down for another rotation! i have another twink to show y'all"

"Also :00 blonde friend"

"Let us all infodhmo"

"Hsjagdvbs shhh im on phone"

"Nix woukd you like to joon?

"skitters away"

"I have two braincells and they both drink dumb bitch juice"

"oof wait whats the order again i have 0 memory"

"i want to bond with him over cosplay-"

"Awkwardly watches in band kid"

"One day I'm gonna a broadway star"

"which isnt to say they were bad. they were just fortnite dancing during rehersals"

"I threw it so hard my glasses flew off and slid under the stage right divider"

"anyway heres my boi"

"emo"

"haha emo"

"virgil sanders kinnie"

"he looks like he listens to my chemical panic at the fallout boy"

"Bro I bet he'd kick my ass with his deck"

"bird man my beloved"

"fuck i had so much to say and then i forgot it all"

"Birds!!"

"guiguhuh"

"crabrave"

"She sounds like someone I would end up stealing her personality"

"yess name collector gang"

"alias glass aiden haven absinthe fish brick rice"

"But I have Cypress, Remure, Genesis, Lemres, and Comet"

"And she's named after a mars candy bar bc alien"

"Hey, if plato went by plato, you can be king thief"

"im not dissing my gramma like that shfojd"

"My dad has seven legal names" "bitches be like *looks at fictional character* *steals their name* it's us we're bithces"

"coraline lowkey traumatized me but i adore it regardless"

"mmmmmm magic man :]"

"°0° green man"

"criminal (affectionate)"

"he would shoplift a candy bar from walmart and then brag to all of his friends about the sick stealing he did"

"despite the fact he's canonically been capable of overpowering a minor deity"

"i would commit so many crimes for him"

"Very babey"

"Yes please tell green man he is very pog"

"he also keeps a lot of dumb secrets"

"but I will sorely miss the chaos and energy of this here chat until I wake again" (by request XD)

"i just say words and if they're funny then they're funny"

"* or extremly chaotic either works"

"at this point we are just taking turns rambling"

"oH--"

"bc my brain has a schedule"

"Hopefully they have gyoza there or I will lose my mind"

"hehe yes spooky man"

"my ghost glucose guardian"

"the head of the undead group that lives there, and we end up dating. (yes I date a ghost, no I will not be taking constructive criticism /lh)"

"ghosts r just inherently sexy"

"i mean im becoming a squid thing so"

"Raven quirk raven quirk!!"

"ł â m p"

"łæmp"

"mothman: ooh lamp you look very nice today! do you come here often? mothman: wait shit no"

"I'd date a ghost"

"mine is still accurate, i am still sobbing (/j)"

"p e e p e e"

""@nick wilde is a tumblr sexyman" is the best thing i have ever seen"

"im sorry im cackling like a dying hyena"

"you're all 12 year olds"

"PEENIE"

"He once caused global warming on accident so he could get a tan"

"god, what a himbo. i love him"

"that reminds me of my friends kin assigned me jesus"

"Man outside of battle be like: princely crying but then in battle hes like: "CATACLYSM! DISASTER! DEVASTATION!" Chill out man"

"Every time I talk about satan it never fails to shock people it's my favorite thing to do"

"im kin assigning him roman sanders" ""Oh yeah he caused global warming because he wanted to get girls" "he what""

"oh damn i forgot satan was straight"

"twink appreciation club"

"give us the twinks"

"my first thought was bottom-"

"so many people to try and get his dad to love him"

"daddy issued"

"OH MY GOD ITS WILBUR"

"Big boy but"

"anyways janus is swagggg"

"........................."

"gib twink"

"give twink then i will share"

"holds him gentle like hamburger"

"This dumb bitch opened a book that said "do not open" and got possessed by a little bastard"

"he is. fragile creachur"

"klug is beauty klug is grace i would let him step on my face"

"If I'm playing swap and I have to hear one more "Pwanet Powew" Im gonna lose it"

"Who is to blame? Pandora or the box?"

"Bakugo isnt my type but I respect the drip"

"i say like my type isnt long-haired pretty boys and girls that look so gnc that people have a history of confusing them for men"

"hes a gremlin and i can appreciate a pretty gremlin"

"that is to say i am attracted to VFlower vocaloid. This is a confession."

"note i am a lesbian"

"You may like Schezo wegey"

"why does he have one single expression"

"soul soul eater passes the vibe check"

"magic wand"

"I Want To Hold His Hand"

"i would commit a war crime for him any war crime idc which one"

"my favorite one is when he sounded rlly gay because he said "Muscular bodies keep me satisfied""

"p e a n u t"

"Klug is a homophobic homosexual its just facts"

"grug from the croods is peak male performance"

"jaw drops to floor, eyes pop out of sockets accompanied by trumpets, heart beats out of chest, awooga awooga sound effect, pulls chain on train whistle that has appeared next to head as steam blows out, slams fists on table, rattling any plates, bowls or silverware, whistles loudly, fireworks shoot from top of head, pants loudly as tongue hangs out of mouth, wipes comically large bead of sweat from forehead, clears throat, straightens tie, combs hair Ahem, you look very lovely."

"tag yourself im the fireworks shooting from the top of the head"

"i like essays"

"central time gang"

"11:11 pog-" (wait... is that a suprise angel number?? yes it is lovelies just for you <3)

"Then again im also a dumbass bitch who wonders what the souls in soul eater taste like. SERIOUSLY THOUGH. THEY LOOK TASTY AS HELL!!!! LIKE GODDAMN BRO YOU'RE MAKING ME FUCKING HUNGRY. Like. that shit- it's Bone Apple motherfucking Teeth. hell yea my guy. Im hongy now.... shlorp I'm seriously considering this. Like. They seem kinda like a liquid? But a solid? Are they like jello? The fuck they taste like my guy???? I keep imagining they're like sour, like sour candy maybe? Or do they taste salty? Sweet? Maybe some combo of two? Do they even have a taste or is it about the texture? The sensation? God my mouth is watering what the hell. I am starving. I think I need to go get a cookie. I'm gonna go get a cookie. Brb. I'm better. I'm still craving souls though. Which is a weird-ass cringey thing to say but I'm being dead-ass rn. They just.... look tasty???? And I wanna eat one. Thus. I am shifting to Soul Eater for the express purpose of satisfying my fucking cravings. enjoy"

"points were made"

"jello? more like helloooo schloooAHFJDSDAIDWNALDHSJKDAIDANDM"

"WAIT I THINK I HAVE AN ANIME GIRL BITING VIDEO TOO"

"anime girl voice: mmm! mm... ahhhhmp!! mmm, mmm... aaahmp!"

"i think it sounds great i'm going to start eating like that"

"several people are typing"

"do these look edible to you"

"forbidden gummies"

"when I was on lsd I couldn't eat my fruit gummies because I thought they were alive because they had little faces on them"

"oh shit yeah don't do drugs"

"anyways general consensus is puyos are edible, ty for your input everyone"

"everypony is a word so powerful it can bring nations to its knees"

"pls the self control it's taking me not to say "hewwo everypony" in gen chat when someone new joins-"

"hewwo evewrypony uwu deaw cewestia i hopwe it doewsnt wain owo"

"ive cooked up a sowution wiwth the knowwege ive acwued. they say a kitcwen time saves niwne, but im just savwing two. Ive gathewwed the inwedients to make a time sowbet. Thewe's hawdly woom fow seconds when the seconds mewt away."

"I had a ten year old sister... you know what happened to her??? very sad, very tragic... she turned eleven....."

"NIIICE"

"Guts dont say the secks word :( /j"

"watch your fucking language in front of the president"

"im so sorry lumi"

"i think you're like ehhhh 8/10 funny"

"now me???? 10/10. Hilarious"

"sometimes i have to take a step back and remember that this is the same guts i follow on tumblr /lh"

""ok every here's some good shifting advice!!! uwu have a good day" "yeah i did lsd and ate fruit gummies""

"i have one setting and it's whatever this is"

"my bitch ass cat just pushed the door open with his fuzzy face and now my sleeping dad is being lulled into dreams by Cosmo Sheldrake's 'Pliocine'."

"me on discord: nick wilde"

"me on tumblr: shifting water! haha funne! me on here: my hermit crabs are cannibals also i want to eat souls."

"im sorry yOUR VIBESA RE JUST SO DIFFERNT"

"u give off older cousin ive never spoken to but always admire at the family gatherings vibes"

"what the fuck"

"BC I HAVE LIBERTU"

"If you adopt me then yes"

"am I qualified for dad jokes???"

"we're all a lot smarter on tumblr"

"I'm like "awww... sweet... sweet little shiftlings... posting such sweet shiftling content... so pure, so wholesome... does not even know abcs....""

"can't think before you speak if you never think B)"

"I'm not responsible enough to be a mom"

"cat pet"

"show us pictures of the cat or i will do Crime"

"maybe thats me being a coward tho"

"MOTH!!!! MOTH MY BELOVED"

if y'all want I can make this a series bc shiftblr keeps giving me more content

#tw drugs #tw swearing #tw cannibalism #tw crime #tw food #tw homophobia #shitpost #out of context #out of context quotes #lumi's quotes

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sanchoyo · 3 years

Text

danny phantom, season 3 episodes 3-6 thoughts!

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-johnny was actually pretty civil with danny and left when he asked! thats nice. also, SKULKER?? HAD A FRAMED PICTURE OF EMBER?? oooo fuck wait had they established they were a Thing Before?? I dont think so. thats weird. its like that country boy/goth girl meme lmfao. I think i am going to choose to ignore this new info and pretend I didnt hear it. 100% unrelated to the jazz/ember fanart I already drew and posted....😳

-LADIES NIGHT EPISODE THIS IS WHAT ITS ALL ABOUT. wish it didnt really center around the guys or them being pissed at them, but. willing to bet this was written by men lol

-THEY ERASED ALL THE MEN??? meanwhile, jack and danny are fishing at. silent hill or something. im glad jack is trying to read a parenting book and making an Attempt. (theyre at lake erie, but, they made it actually eerie...thats fun)

-the girls alt outfits...cute. EMBER MADE A NEW SONG TOO!!! kinda. jazz being one of the backup singers and being AWFUL. NOOOO

-'how are we going to get kitty to blow a kiss?' 'she'll have to think there are still some males in town!' ...i dont know how to break it to you, but I dont know that a 100% het girl would wish for all men to Begone. I think. I mean im not a het or a girl so I dont really know for sure. she Is probably Bi tho. esp having the other ladies in town chanting NO MEN!!! excitedly............(then again, the kiss is to get Rid of men, so, she probably would have blown it at the ladies only if they were actively trying to attack/stop them, so...I MEAN. THE DRESSING LIKE DANNY BIT WAS SO EXTRA)

-I feel like an all female cast ep couldve been way way way way cooler than that was. like. why was it still somehow all about Men. ...anyway. (where was valerie...)

-next ep opens with the observants, and, way way more of them than I expected...existed? I mean I guess them being a council/jury of some kind is what I expected from their first appearance (bc at that time they were basically TELLING clockwork to kill danny, not asking,, so I figured they had SOME kind of authority) but. there were so many. anyway, here goes vlad! letting his own hubris go brrrr. releasing a weather ghost for political gain! #justvladthings

-okay say what you will about him (he IS an asshole) but having an umbrella with his own face on it and more prepared to share is SUPER FUNNY. and him being fanned by huge wads of money by his bodyguards. SO ineffective but so Dramatic. He UNDERSTANDS that if youre rich you need to be. you know. obnoxious and kinda eccentric about it! fuckign hate when rich people are boring about it. I would trust vlad with nothing except to not be a boring rich asshole who wears...fucking khaki or some shit. man knows his Presentation Skills. and that 'V' chair in his mayoral office. is that fucking embroidered?

-maddie get your MAN PLEEEEASSSE. IM SO EMBARRASSED FOR HER. the way jack stays simping for this man. in FRONT OF HIS WIFE!!!! ...my god its like a love triangle. jack clearly loves vlad, who loves maddie, who loves jack. jack fenton is at the very least bi, right................. this is an OBSESSION . 'THE V MAN COMETH'???? i...my god. (also, on a serious note, to have a friend THIS SUPPORTIVE...and still be SUCH A DICK TO HIM (TRYING TO KILL HIM AND STEAL HIS WIFE??) NOT COOL VLAD. JACK IS YOUR 1 AND /ONLY/ HYPE MAN. if someone loved and supported me THIS HARD...LIKE. CMON DUDE.

-STOMP the fucking GAS, JACK

-this would make a great shirt design, looks like a metal band design! we love The Maelstrom

-oh, so vlad did in fact get a mansion in amity park. and its purple! good color choice! not as flashy as a CASTLE or MURDER CABIN, but still pretty eccentric, which I appreciate.

-...vlad knows the difference between picasso and da vinci? in the ep last post where we were watching him fail at conquering every historical time ever he didnt seem to know history well enough to like. be effective...was vlad taking art history at college?? (was he an art MAJOR??? we never DID KNOW WHAT HE WENT TO SCHOOL FOR. I kinda assumed business because in the masters of time ep he was still rich without ghost powers so he had to have..known something about business or something, right...but also, art and or theater FITS HIS PERSONALITY. possibly also something science-y, I guess, but I always felt like he got roped into that, esp how pessimistic he was about the ghost portal in the flashbacks to college, like, i felt like he was just there for maddie and was uninterested/un-invested at the time...)

-THIS GHOST JUST ELECTROCUTED MADDIE (THE CAT) BITCH!! THATS MY FAVORITE MADDIE!!! vlad going after vortex and being ~shocked~ .....WHEN. WHEN WILL YOU LEARN. THAT YOUR ACTIONS. HAVE CONSEQUENCES!!!

-the way this random man with a camera sees the mayor laying in an alley covered in TRASH AND DECIDES TO TAKE A PICTURE HAHAH

*snap* this ones going in my cringe compilation!

-vlad 'if we're going to defeat vortex, we're going to have to do it together!' *immediately dips after dropping danny off in front of vortex* JKASDFHKJHJKN

-DANNY CAN DUPLICATE!!! ...he couldnt even attack with it, but he DID IT!!! INTO (4) OF HIMSELF!!! SO PROUD!!!!!!!!!!

-'THE ROLLER COASTER EMOTIONS OF A TEENAGER THREATEN MY PLANS!' ...0 self awareness of his own dramatic moodiness. incredible, how dumb this man is. its very close to circling around to endearing, if he was less of an asshole. at least its very very funny to see danny shooting him with tiny lightning bolts anytime he's even slightly irritated! vlad you should be nice to danny anyway. this is what you GET

-...making sandwiches and ice cream and playing video games with your nephew is a totally normal thing. WHY is vlad acting like this is the end of the world. if you were a GOOD UNCLE YOU WOULD ALREADY BE DOING THESE THINGS!!! bitch I make my nephew food all the time and dont forget what he does and doesnt like. if u didnt know danny didnt want tomatoes, thats on u. if u, a grown adult, are gonna piss of the 14 yr old by not letting him win, u deserve to have to pay for the arcade machines he ruins because he now has uncontrollable storm powers because YOU THREW HIM INTO A FIGHT WITH THE STORM GHOST. fuck u vlad. paypal me $400,000 while ur at it tho. (also, gamer vlad confirmed)

-VLAD CAN COOK THOUGH???! I assumed he had...people working for him that did that. I mean. billionaires usually dont do that. then again, we've only seen those vultures working for him (and I guess the dairy king was AT his old mansion, but it was never really clarified if he worked there...I think he probably just Hung Out and they Enjoyed Cheeses Together. thats what I think, I dont think a KING would be working for anyone and also the dairy king was nice <3) but then again he would be a private person and we cant have anyone accidentally finding Ghostly Things, so...still, that's hilarious. pour one out for that really cute banana split that got ruined 2 seconds later

-vlad just fucking picking danny up and THROWING HIM AT VORTEX TWICE WITHIN LIKE A MINUTE. JUST ABSOLUTELY LAUNCHING HIM. BITCH THATS MY SON BE CAREFUL!!! HES GOT ORGANS AND THINGS!!!!

-danny seeing those animal commercials and feeling sad is the biggest 2000s throwback so far. i legitimately had to change the channel or walk out of the room when those came on bc id CRY AND BE SAD ABOUT THEM FOR DAYS AFTER. fuck those commercials and fuck that IN THE ARMMMS OF AN ANGELLLL song 😭

-'vlads ego almost got the town destroyed!' yes danny thats the entire episode. the entire series anytime vlad shows up honestly. this episode was just him being really embarrassing the entire time, and, me laughing about it. 10/10 would laugh at him again

-NEXT EP WE HAVE A SHAPESHIFTING GHOST?? I've said it before but shapeshifting is the power I would want when asked those 'what superpower do you want' questions...its the Best power! this guy looks like a homestuck character. ive never read homestuck but thats the vibe

-I love every time we see tuckers family, they are by far the most functional family. and dash has a lil chihuahua!!! named pookie!!! i am crying (I've had 3 chihuahuas, so I am very biased, but...) AND HE WATCHES THE ROMANCE CHANNEL WITH POOKIE. POOKIE I WILL DIE FOR YOU YOU SWEET LITTLE BABY.

-danny can lift a bus! I shouldn't be surprised, but i am proud of my son. hes got lil kid fans. i am going to cry about this

-JAZZ KEEPS A SCRAPBOOK WITH DANNY'S LIL HEROICS AND NEWSPAPER CLIPPINGS!!! we've actually seen it on her floor before, but I didnt realize it was a scrapbook!! thats sooo cute.

-...and danny has to stand there listening to his parents saying danny phantom sucks and is a 'filthy ghost' and calling him egotistical...i am once again stealing their kids!

-THIS GHOST RIPPING JAZZ'S SCRAPBOOK!!! ILL KILL YOU. SHE WORKED HARD ON THAT!!! BITCH

-yes, maddie, the one with red eyes is For Sure Actually Your Son. ignore the, red eyes... (CLEARLY she hasnt watched the other 2 eps where danny has been evil, she doesnt know red eyes= evil!!!)

-'billy fenton'.......................

-danny being stuck as phantom in his own house, no way out is a fucking NIGHTMARE. his parents pointing giant weapons against him and SHOOTING AT HIM. THIS IS A HORROR MOVIE.

-NINE INCH NAILS POSTER.

-this is the most screenshot of all time

-amorpho turning into mr. lancer because hes 'someone no one will want to be around' BUT HES WRONG, I WOULD BEFRIEND AND HANG OUT WITH MR LANCER SO FAST.

-tucker dressing as danny, now I have the full Tucker set of him being sam and also being danny. also saying 'the ghost...uh...RIPPED MY FACE OFF.' and then running. SMOOTH. NOT AT ALL CONCERNING TO ANY PARENTS.

-sam accepts the toast from jack. and then 2 seconds later is like 'why am i eating this.' THIS SHOWS HUMOR IS SO UNEXPECTED SOMETIMES ITS REALLY GOOD. and then the scene after, mr lancer running into his ghost doppelganger and being like 'YOURE GORGOUS' THEN FAINTING. I AM CRYING. AND DASH FAINTING TOO.

-sam disguising herself as danny again to help tucker run from the fentons. but leaving him shirtless in the streets. incredible. 'plEASE DOnt NOTice MY FACELessNESS I MUST LIVE IN EXILE' this episode is destroying me the humor in this show is exactly my brand of corny and cheesy

-the impromtu story made up by danny and amorpho to explain stuff to the fentons. my god they are both such bad liars. but amorpho is a good egg. wish danny wouldnt have said he didnt wanna see him in town again!! I want him to be reoccurring. not that thats gonna matter since I'm almost done with the series, but the idea of this being the Only Time We See him is :(

-NEXT EP SAYS STARRING MARK HAMILL??????!!! hello ! mr . joker....mr. star wars.... I feel like I should be. idk. taking off a hat im not wearing in respect. I shouldnt be surprised tho bc hes in a lot of cartoons as a very good voice actor, and dp has already had a lot of talented ones so I've been looking out for ones I might know, but....mr. hamill....

-sam has her own greenhouse, names all the plants, and says thank you to them (in the languages from where the plants are from) whenever she harvests from them. thats SO cute. and her lil gothy lunch box...

-and danny's lil red fuzzy lined jacket!!! ive said it before but every time the characters get alt outfits im like :D

-danny has ice powers now!!! THATS WHAT FROSTBITE MEANT. HE KNEW SOMEHOW WAY BACK THEN

-THIS SHOW NEVER LETS YOU FORGET VLAD IS A BILLIONAIRE, HUH.

-danny's lil 'holy hibiscus!' first off the 50s batman swearing is hilarious. 2nd. my username is from the flower sanchoyo hibiscus, so, shoutout to ME this ep. hi :)

-EURGH UNDERGROWTH MAKING EVERYONE PLANT ZOMBIES. HIVEMIND PLOTS SCARE THE SHIT OUT OF ME. and this dude made the city SO overtaken so quickly like how long was danny asleep?? oh god

-evil fucked up sam! now the whole trio has gone evil at some point! the voice actress did a really, really good job with making her sound like a zombie...

-frostbite's paws are so so so big compared to danny. oh my god. i want to hug the snow dog...

-the far frozen has an advanced medical stuff!!! very cool. very smart snow dogs

-im so glad danny has a friendly ghost snow dad to explain this new power and teach him!!! this is so sweet. DANNY'S GHOST SENSE WAS A PART OF HIS ICE POWER?? OOOH. COOL. we love a training montage!!!

-danny saying if he cant defeat overgrowth, that he'd want to stay with frostbite...oh my god...do you think this is the first real supportive adult figure in his life (I am NOT counting his parents because they threaten him on the daily even if they dont realize it.) I mean mr lancer is a Teacher, but he was also nice but this is different, but this is a GHOST WHO IS WILLING TO HELP HIM with his powers and also will help him when hes injured and is so so nice and comparatively so much more mature than 90% of the adults in this show!!!! god. dad frostbite is my everything.

-the framing and lighting this episode, and all the angles...they went all OUT and it looks really really good. this is my nightmare scenario, tho. like, FUCK zombies and dead city zones and hivemind shit. and using the humans as 'nutrients for the children' i am going to THROW UP.

-MALEFICENT VIBES WITH THE HORNS AND GREEN EYES! this costume kicks so much ass. sam is now mark hamills daughter, I guess.

-danny's ice powers making his eyes blue!!! thats neat. and him going for the roots underground was SO SMART. i will not stand for danny ever thinking hes stupid, hes SO smart.

almost done with the show... :"( thats a sad thought!!!

#sanchoyorambles #dp thoughts #danny phantom

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perhapsthanatos · 3 years

Text

03:13 am with renjun ♡

nct's renjun x gn!reader (inspired by his recent photoshoot)

alternate title: death is an early bird

genre: angst. fluff. non idol au. angel of death!au.

word count: 670~

playlist: how to fight by eartheater, so humble the afternoon by julia holter & for those who patiently endure by lauren auder.

warnings: violence & death. lowercase intended. not proofread.

a/n: i know i just published that johnny fic this morning, but i have zero self control & wanted to get this out there even if its literally 2 am :D originally, this fic was supposed to be a witch!au but i didnt know where to go with it so i headed another direction AHAHAH this fic was inspired by a video of someone rewriting the last season of game of thrones & redoing the long night episode wayyy better this time (YES IM STILL MAD & YES IM STILL SALTY THAT THE SHOW WAS RUINED) but i dont remember which one though bc ive watched too many, but if i do come across it again, i will add the link! also happy bday renjun bb <3

the night is cold, but it has only begun. you try your very best to focus on the battle ahead of you, attempting to aim your arrows at the opponent’s men from the top of the dark castle. you only have one goal, and one job. you have bent the knee to the queen and now you fight for her and for your home. but that is all quite a challenge when your only guide is the the first quarter moonlight and the occasional hot bursts of flames, as well as the sounds of screams ripping through from below. you take the tip of the arrow to the flame of the torch that you've kept by your side. taking a sharp breath, you strategically shoot it through the fog and watch as it directly pierces the heart of a soldier who then bursts into flames in one fell swoop. you and your running mind only get more numb by the second. yes, you are alive, but you are devoid. you’ve seen far too much innocence get destroyed in a matter of seconds, fragile souls getting wounded or even end up dying in pain. but death does not have much care or time to dwell on that.

there is no time to think about that now, though. this has begun to be a survival for the fittest now. you know the night will remain to be a long one, for only the victors will bring the dawn and will reign successfully. but will you even be able to get through this long enough to see the daylight?

the chaos ensues, the fighting spilling from all over now, violence being the only option.

but death may not even be that bad, right? after all, you would admit that he’s kind of cute even. because from a distance, you see the color violet flying your way.

wait. no, no, no, no. it can’t be.

your jaw clenches. your time can’t possibly be up yet? isn’t it too early? but you aren’t even finished?

when the name of death spills through someone’s lips, one may picture him to be a demon or a monster of sorts, but that was far from the truth. rumor has it (and much contrary to the common belief) that he is not but a mere boy who has the most gentle touch making death feel like a small state of slumber. books depict him to be mostly seen in blood red hues with razor yellow teeth ready to consume you. but you remember your previous mentor saying before he passed that he ran into him many times in his travels and that he was wearing a calming dark violet color and was not at all a child of satan’s.

you see him getting closer. you would dare say that he is indeed handsome however the panic settles in. your shallow breaths fail you as a deep and intense fear roots and implants itself down on the bottom of your lungs, leeching and draining you of yourself. now you really wonder if you are truly dead and if this is your real fate. you pray that he made some sort of mistake, arriving too soon.

the angel, the demon, the messenger, the god, the personification, whoever he may be — he finally lands beside you, your shaking hands dropping your bow, suddenly noticing the arrow on your chest.

“you got shot,” he speaks, sounding otherworldly and motioning to the arrow sticking out of your stomach. his loose violet blouse and light brown wavy hair flows with the wind.

you feel more blood rushing out your body. your legs start to give out, but he catches you in his arms. it didn’t feel cold, instead it was warm and gentle.

“you have the best story yet, you know that?” he coos at you, admiring your features.

“do i? really?” you rasp out, eyes getting heavier.

“mhm. you’ll go down in history, my love,” he assures, ready to take flight to the sky with you in his arms. “now, come on,” he whispers tenderly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “let’s get you home.”

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agentrouka-blog · 4 years

Note

When Jon think about wanting winterfell and it's Lord he felt hunger which he later connect with ghost's hunger. Do you think that passage is implying something?

Hi anon!

I think the passage has many layers when it comes to symbolism and foreshadowing.

ASOS, Jon XII is a fun chapter. Jon’s been through a lot. His trip North of the wall left him traumatized and disillusioned in a way that’s hard to sum up. Anything he had hoped to be proud of in life was obliterated, he suffered serious injury, has been separated from ghost, learned that all his family are dead or missing, fought a viciously cruel battle, feels responsible for the death of his stockholm-syndromy abuser, was stripped of all respect and honor by his superiors, and he got to see a woman die in childbirth. Now Stannis and Mel are squatting at Castle Black, and the threat to the North keeps looming.

Life sucks.

We’d been introduced to some options that were denied to him in life:

His lord father had once talked about raising new lords and settling them in the abandoned holdfasts as a shield against wildlings. The plan would have required the Watch to yield back a large part of the Gift, but his uncle Benjen believed the Lord Commander could be won around, so long as the new lordlings paid taxes to Castle Black rather than Winterfell. "It is a dream for spring, though," Lord Eddard had said. "Even the promise of land will not lure men north with a winter coming on."

If winter had come and gone more quickly and spring had followed in its turn, I might have been chosen to hold one of these towers in my father's name. Lord Eddard was dead, however, his brother Benjen lost; the shield they dreamt together would never be forged. (ASOS, Jon V)

“If the boy shows any skill with sword or lance, he should have a place with your father’s household guard at the least,” Jon said. “It’s not unknown for bastards to be trained as squires and raised to knighthood. But you’d best be sure Gilly can play this game convincingly. From what you’ve told me of Lord Randyll, I doubt he would take kindly to being deceived.” (ASOS, Samwell IV)

One fails because of the seasons, the other was prevented by Catelyn. The Watch has been a soul-destroying nightmare, Ygritte’s offer of taking over a Tower “after” is not even worth a moment’s consideration to him. Every hope he ever had about his life has been disappointed.

Jon’s just about sixteen and is completely done. Sam notes how much time Jon spends in the training yard, even though he’s injured and off-duty for the title of turncloak. He does not bother voting in the Lord Commander election. A maligned outcast again. Forever.

The warg, I’ve heard them call me. How can I be a warg without a wolf, I ask you?” His mouth twisted. “I don’t even dream of Ghost anymore. All my dreams are of the crypts, of the stone kings on their thrones. Sometimes I hear Robb’s voice, and my father’s, as if they were at a feast. But there’s a wall between us, and I know that no place has been set for me.” (ASOS, Samwell IV

He is lonely. Even Ghost is gone, his one proof that he belongs to something.

Stannis alienates Jon by talking ill of Robb, but he offers Jon recognition for the things he did right, a rare thing, and then he offers him legitimization. Basically, “You proved your worth and you have the Right blood. All you ever wanted can be yours. For the small price of breaking your oaths for real and of your own volition and forsaking your gods.” Downright mephistophelian.

Jon is torn, can’t sleep, fights. For the first time he has a real choice. He remembers the traumatic incident where his bastardy became a true concept to him.

That morning he called it first. “I’m Lord of Winterfell!” he cried, as he had a hundred times before. Only this time, this time, Robb had answered, “You can’t be Lord of Winterfell, you’re bastard-born. My lady mother says you can’t ever be the Lord of Winterfell.”

I thought I had forgotten that. Jon could taste blood in his mouth, from the blow he’d taken. (ASOS, Jon XII)

And Jon’s response is a near black-out rage against his sparring partner. All his suppressed feelings of grief and anger and longing and loneliness are just broiling inside him.

Why am I so angry? he asked himself, but it was a stupid question. Lord of Winterfell. I could be the Lord of Winterfell. My father’s heir.

Jon soaks in the hot tub and thinks of Winterfell, mulls restoring it versus not belonging and destroying its soul in the process

When Jon closed his eyes he saw the heart tree, with its pale limbs, red leaves, and solemn face. The weirwood was the heart of Winterfell, Lord Eddard always said … but to save the castle Jon would have to tear that heart up by its ancient roots, and feed it to the red woman’s hungry fire god. I have no right, he thought. Winterfell belongs to the old gods

The tree is almost described like a person. A person with Tully coloring, like all his siblings save Arya. Like Sansa. The hot springs in Winterfell have a potential link to his decision to join the Watch, or at the very least to his siblings in general. The castle of Winterfell is juxtaposed with the heart, with the purpose and point of it all. Save a structure by destroying what made it a meaningful place? Betray his family in his heart, the person whose castle is truly is, betray all his values and his gods?

He takes a walk past sites of all his recent experiences and North the Wall over the recent battle field and just sits to think.

Ygritte wanted me to be a wildling. Stannis wants me to be the Lord of Winterfell. But what do I want? The sun crept down the sky to dip behind the Wall where it curved through the western hills. Jon watched as that towering expanse of ice took on the reds and pinks of sunset.

There’s an essay I could write about walls, Tyrion, Jon and Sansa (the sun to Arya’s moon) and how they all interact in the books, but let’s say just like this word play, the fact that Jon answers his own question is not an accident:

"Close your beak, crow. Spin yourself around, might be you'd find who you're looking for."

Jon turned.

The singer rose to his feet. (ASOS, Jon I)

The singer rose. Lyanna, his mother, the riddle. But also Sansa, who unwittingly took up her mantle. One unlocks his path to the other and everything that follows in his imagination:

I would need to steal her if I wanted her love, but she might give me children. I might someday hold a son of my own blood in my arms. A son was something Jon Snow had never dared dream of, since he decided to live his life on the Wall. I could name him Robb. Val would want to keep her sister’s son, but we could foster him at Winterfell, and Gilly’s boy as well. Sam would never need to tell his lie. We’d find a place for Gilly too, and Sam could come visit her once a year or so. Mance’s son and Craster’s would grow up brothers, as I once did with Robb.

He wanted it, Jon knew then. He wanted it as much as he had ever wanted anything. I have always wanted it, he thought, guiltily. May the gods forgive me. It was a hunger inside him, sharp as a dragonglass blade. A hunger … he could feel it. It was food he needed, prey, a red deer that stank of fear or a great elk proud and defiant. He needed to kill and fill his belly with fresh meat and hot dark blood. His mouth began to water with the thought.

Jon paints a picture of recreating his own childhood with his wolf pack at Winterfell, only this time there are no outcasts, and he is the Father. He gets to be Ned. The Lord of Winterfell with a lady’s love. And a son, something he had, apparently, dreamed of until he stoppped.

He has always wanted this thing that he has no right to and it filled him with a guilt strong enough to concern the gods. But he admits it to himself, lets himself truly feel it. The feeling flows through him the same way the rage did earlier. powerful and all encompassing.

Like a dragonglass blade. There we have some lovely foreshadowing for a) potentiall the origin of the Others, b) Jon’s paternity, and c) his own death when his desire to abandon his vows and head to Winterfell is met with, you know, some blades. Not to mention d) his desire to have these things.

Each of these is answered by his primal hunger response. Which is of course, his connection to Ghost. The wolf he has so woefully said goodbye to, that he missed deeply and bitterly, chooses this moment to reappear. This moment where Jon returns to his own feelings, his true self.

a) the answer to the Others are the direwolves, the Starks, their magical connection to Winterfell and what happened way back when.

b) the answer to Jon’s paternity is a violent embrace of his mother’s side.

c) the answer to his own stabbing will be warging into Ghost and biding his time in there, becoming more wolf than he ever anticipated.

d) the answer to his heart’s desire...

It was a long moment before he understood what was happening. When he did, he bolted to his feet. “Ghost?” He turned toward the wood, and there he came, padding silently out of the green dusk, the breath coming warm and white from his open jaws. “Ghost!” he shouted, and the direwolf broke into a run. He was leaner than he had been, but bigger as well, and the only sound he made was the soft crunch of dead leaves beneath his paws. When he reached Jon he leapt, and they wrestled amidst brown grass and long shadows as the stars came out above them. “Gods, wolf, where have you been?” Jon said when Ghost stopped worrying at his forearm. “I thought you’d died on me, like Robb and Ygritte and all the rest. I’ve had no sense of you, not since I climbed the Wall, not even in dreams.” The direwolf had no answer, but he licked Jon’s face with a tongue like a wet rasp, and his eyes caught the last light and shone like two great red suns.

Red suns. Arya’s wolf has golden coins (haggling for death, faceless men coins, spinning fates), Grey Wind has molten gold (like a crown that kills you).

Jon’s wolf has red suns. Like the colors that the sun painted on the Wall. The direwolf in heart tree colors, inverted bastard colors of house Stark, Tully colors, Sansa colors.

Red eyes, Jon realized, but not like Melisandre’s. He had a weirwood’s eyes. Red eyes, red mouth, white fur. Blood and bone, like a heart tree. He belongs to the old gods, this one. And he alone of all the direwolves was white. Six pups they’d found in the late summer snows, him and Robb; five that were grey and black and brown, for the five Starks, and one white, as white as Snow.

He had his answer then.

Not the red gods, not fire. The old gods. the heart tree, the wolves. He may be a Snow, but the old gods gave him Ghost. His own wolf. His white wolf. His place was made by their will.

There is honor in that choice. No matter what anyone else says, Jon knows who he is and he has that power: to reject betraying his heart.

How does this choice led by Ghost fit the layers?

a) The answer to the Others: don’t steal, don’t trick. Be honest. Accept what was painful. Not the Wall matters, the answer is in the heart tree.

b) The Dragon father does not Need to guide his decisions. He can let that go. He is a Snow.

c) Being in Ghost will lead him back to himself. Not fire, not Melisandre. The old gods.

d) Well... What does Jon want? What IS his answer?

Jon is filled with sudden energy. He strides back, rejects Val in his mind, stalks dramatically into the dining hall and is suddenly voted Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. We close on this:

So Jon Snow took the wineskin from his hand and had a swallow. But only one. The Wall was his, the night was dark, and he had a king to face.

Jon’s answer? We never hear it in this chapter.

We hear it in ADWD, Jon I:

"By right Winterfell should go to my sister Sansa."

And ADWD, Jon IV:

Jon said, "Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa."

The chapter is followed by? Sansa. Rebuilding Winterfell out of snow.

When Jon lets go of pretense, honestly asks himself what he wants, shame or not, his wolf takes over and helps him find the answer and the path. The answer is not in taking the Castle and creating a mimicry of what it was, it is in honoring what it truly was and truly means. The heart over the structure.

And in giving supremacy to the heart, to the red-white heart, he unknowingly paves the way for his own place: Winterfell built of Snow. He doesn’t have to steal the castle, he will be invited to belong.

That’s my own humble interpretation, anyway.

#asoiaf #jon snow #ASOS #Ghost the direwolf #asoiaf speculation #layered symbolism #foreshadowing #jonsa #Starklings

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f0rever15elf · 4 years

Text

I Just Need Five Minutes: Part 1

Part 1 of the Maxwell Lord “I Just Need Five Minutes” Series: Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4, Part 5 (Coming soon) Pairing: Maxwell Lord x f!reader Wordcount: 2,325 Rating: G Warnings: Death mentions Part 2 (Coming soon...)

Summary: Lord Corp has become the top business contender on the global stage, lead by none other than Maxwell Lord IV. His rise to glory has taken him from the lives of those he once loved, and you can only watch as he slips further and further out of reach. You had to stop it, before it was too late. You had to get inside.

A/N: This story is going to call a little bit on the comic book backstory of Maxwell Lord IV, most of which can be found in his wiki article, if you’re interested. I’m excited to write for Maxwell, his character has so much potential. And hopefully this will tide me over since the movie release has been delayed again.

Masterlist | Ao3

He was a genius. Shrewd, cunning, and charismatic. His way with words had everyone coiled tightly around his finger; he could sell holy water to the Pope if he wanted to. And with that silver tongue, that guise he wore to stroke the egos of those who ate from his palm and were none the wiser, he continued to climb higher and higher. More and more power fell into his grasp.

But a glass can only hold so much, and as his brimmed and spilled over with power and influence, so did he lose his humanity.

“Maxwell...what have you done?”

~~~~

The sun shines brilliantly in the summer sky over the wide yard in front of the Lord estate. In the lush green grass, two children play, no more than five or six years old. A boy and a girl, giggling and laughing over jokes and stories told in funny voices. It is the picture of innocence, purity. The little girl picks up a flower from the small pile they had collected, tucking it behind her ear before finding a matching one, tucking it behind the boy’s.

“We match now!” she beams in a way only a child can. “It means that you and I will be together forever!” The boy blushes at her words, soft blonde hair blowing gently in the summer breeze. His face is gentle and kind, shy even as he watches her with bright brown eyes that shine in the light. Tentatively, he sticks out his hand to her, pinky finger extended.

“You gotta promise! It doesn’t work if you don’t promise!” His serious voice makes the girl giggle before she makes a serious face, wrapping her pinky around his tightly.

“I promise! Forever and ever.” The boy smiles and nods as she says so, repeating her words back to her before they both erupt into giggles. From the balcony, the mothers of the two children look on fondly over their cups of tea. The sound of the children laughing danced on the warm breeze, pleasant in their ears. If only things could stay like this forever.

~~~~

Your pinky twitches as you stand before the gilded doors of the Lord Building, looking up at its windows, blinding in the sunlight. You would get in. You had to. Things had been put into motion that you need to stop, but the only way to do so is from the inside. With a shake of your head and a sigh, your turn on your heel, heading down the street towards home. It seems that nearly every screen you pass on your way has Maxwell’s face on it, selling empty promises and loaded bargains. And every time you see his eyes, they look a little less like the boy you use to know.

~~~~

“Max can’t meet you today, dear,” your mother says, petting your hair. To an adult familiar with grief and loss, the tightness in her voice would betray the tumultuous emotions she feels. To you, she just sounds uncomfortable, and you tilt your head in confusion. Fourteen years doesn’t provide much time to become familiar with the concept of loss, so you shrug, saddened you wouldn’t get to see your friend today.

Gone were the days of sitting in the grass to play, tucking flowers into each other’s hair. Maxwell was always busy helping his father to run the family business, and you would go months without so much as a word from him before he would show up at your door with a lily, smiling that dimpled smile at you. Promises always poured from his lips that it wouldn’t be so long next time before he came to see you.

But today… Today would change everything. Today, Maxwell’s father died.

~~~~

The door to your apartment slams shut behind you with a thud, shutting out the hustle and bustle of Metropolis. It’s small, but cozy, filled with your plants to bring a little life to the drab living room and kitchen. Taking a seat in the living room, you pull out your computer from your bag as you flip on the TV. It’s Maxwell’s face again, smiling at you with the look of a used car salesman who swears he wants only the best for his favorite customer. You know it’s not a real smile. Maxwell has a dimple when he smiles, and this charade didn’t. You shake your head as his promises of whatever you want in this perfect future fill the room, your eyes refocusing on your laptop, refreshing your emails. One meeting...that was all you needed.

~~~~

You let out a frustrated sigh as the door slams closed, your mother letting out a cry of surprise at the sound before coming to find you, resting a concerned hand on your shoulder as you throw yourself onto the couch.

“He still won’t see you?” Her gentle words just cause your heart to ache further and you nod.

“His mom greeted me, invited me in and made me tea. We chatted, but as soon as I asked about Maxwell, she stood up and ushered me from the house, asking me to not come by anymore since I couldn’t seem to stop asking for him.” You turn to look at your mother, tears in your eyes. “Why won’t he see me, Mom? Did I do something wrong?” Your mother’s heart shatters at the broken light in your eyes. She knew how much Maxwell meant to you, and that having him refuse to see you was tearing you apart.

“My sweet, you’ve done nothing wrong. Maxwell has a lot of responsibility to take on now that he’s running his father’s company. He’s very busy and doesn’t have as much time to see friends as he use to.” She brushes your hair behind your ear with delicate fingers. “I’m sure he still cares about you.”

“I miss him, Mom. I miss my best friend. It’s been three years since I’ve seen him...” Seventeen years of life and you still struggle with keeping your emotions in check, especially when it comes to Maxwell.

“I know sweetheart...When the time is right, you will see him again…”

~~~~

The alert from your inbox pulls you from your reverie, your eyes refocusing on the screen. As they do, your heart stutters in your chest

‘To Whom It May Concern,

We graciously thank you for your interest in Lord Corp. Mr. Lord has personally reviewed your product and would like to arrange to meet you on Wednesday at 3 p.m. You will have thirty minutes to make your sales pitch and answer any questions he may have. The front desk will direct you when you arrive. Please bring a valid photo ID and copies of your pitch for convince. Do not be late, Mr. Lord’s time is incredibly valued.

Cordially,

Sam Preston

Personal Assistant to the CEO’

You had gotten it. That moment you needed on the inside...you had finally gotten it. A relieved smile graces your lips as you begin to amass your files. You had one shot at this, it had to be perfect.

~~~~

You stand alone in the cemetery as you watch the caretakers laying new sod over the fresh grave. Your heart feels hollow, and only the black lace veil conceals the tears streaming down your cheeks from the world around you. Today was beautiful; cool and still with the birds singing in the trees as the sun warmed the earth. It was too beautiful for a day filled with such grief.

As the caretakers pack up their tools, one stops to rest a hand on his shoulder, passing along his condolences before continuing on his way. You nod gratefully before kneeling beside the headstone. It is modest, small and simple with a delicate engraving of a singular rose by your mother’s name. Black-gloved fingers trace along each petal and letter, your shoulders shaking with silent cries. You were now well and truly alone.

You shouldn’t have had to be alone. He should have been there with you, you had made a promise to one another. You were there when his father passed, and his mother. He didn’t even have the time to attend his own mother’s funeral, but you did. You mourned for him as they lowered a woman close enough to be your second mother into the ground beside her husband. So why were you alone now?

Where are you Maxwell?

~~~~

Your hands work to smooth the front of your dress down before you enter the lobby of Lord Corp. Slate gray with a simple black belt that held nicely to your figure but didn’t reveal too much. Professional and classy, with a dash of sexy. Nothing beyond anything any self-respecting company owner would don. Head held high and the bag you specifically reserved for important business trips and meetings over your shoulder, you make your way inside, up to the front desk.

“Welcome to Lord Corp, where the future is yours, do you have an appointment?” The intern who greets you sounds like every last bit of his soul has been sapped from him, and you pity him. Giving him a sad smile, you nod, pulling out your ID.

“I do, at 3 pm with Mr. Lord.” You give him your name as he takes the card, looking you up in the system before nodding, handing you back your ID and a visitors badge which you quickly put around your neck.

“Lily Solutions, you’re still on schedule. I’ll have you head down the hall. Take your first left, you’ll find the elevators. Take it all the way to the top and have a seat on the bench outside the double doors at the end of the hall. Sam will come and get you when Mr. Lord is ready for you.” You smile sweetly at the young man, thanking him before following your instructions. Your ears pop on the way up and you grimace, pulling out the folder with your ‘sales pitch’ inside, flipping through to make sure everything is in order. As the doors slide open and you make your way down the hall, you sigh. This floor was so much more opulent than the ground floor and you feel so out of place. Floor to ceiling paintings like the walls, depicting grandiose battles. Priceless vases and sculptures sit along marble pedestals. It’s like walking through a museum rather than an office, and your jaw clenches as you think about how he had come to acquire some of these items. When you reach the bench, you take your seat and cross your ankles to wait, trying to calm your racing heart.

“Lily Solutions?” The voice that calls out for you immediately grates on your nerves, high pitched and nasally. Looking to your right, so you a man in a pressed navy blue suit make his way towards you, and you stand to meet him, taking his extended hand. “I am Sam Preston, Mr. Lord’s personal assistant. Did you bring your requested documents?” The way he looked down his nose at you makes your blood boil, but you paste on the sweetest smile you can, nodding as you hand over the folder.

“You’ll find copies of all requested articles inside, neatly labeled for yours and Mr. Lord’s personal convenience.” Sam makes a disinterested sound in the back of his throat, snapping the folder shut before checking his watch.

“Very good. This way.” He strides past you and as soon as he is in front of you, you drop the sweet smile. Maxwell, why hire someone like him? You shake your head as Sam opens the door at the end of the hall, getting your salesman smile in place. “Mr. Lord, your 3 o’clock is here from Lily Solutions.” Sam ushers you inside and you are taken aback once again at how over the top the design of the office is. Floor to ceiling windows line the whole back wall with arguably the best view in Metropolis and the curtains that hang every so often are of a rich red velvet with gold filigree. The marble tiles cause the click of your heels to echo as you make your way to the center of the room beside Sam, your eyes locked on the man sitting at the large mahogany desk.

It’s been seventeen years since you last saw Maxwell, and your heart ached for the man who appraises you with shrewd and cunning eyes. With a wave of his hand, Sam nods, leaving the folder on the desk to make his way out of the room. The large oaken door closing echos ominously through the room as Maxwell stands, coming around his desk to face you, hands in his pockets. If he recognized you at all, he didn’t show it.

“Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Mr. Lord. I realize your time is very valuable, so I won’t keep you long.” Maxwell chuckles humorlessly at your greetings, leaning back against his desk.

“You say that, but you bring me this fake, garbage company in an attempt for a sales pitch?” His voice is rough and hard as flint, no trace of that gentle sound he once had. “What game are you playing?”

“No game, sir.”

“I don’t believe you.” He pushes off of his desk, walking back around it. “Everyone has a game they play, and if you’re not going to tell me yours, I’ll have you escorted out.” When he picks up the phone, your heart leaps into your throat and you dart forward pressing down on the receiver, cutting it off. He glares at you in disbelief. The audacity, he thinks, is astounding and he would make sure you suffer for it.

“Maxwell, please.” His eyes flash at the use of his first name, something in the way it sounds in your voice bringing him to pause. “I just need five minutes.”

~~~~~

Taglist is open! Requests are open!

#Maxwell lord #maxwell lord x you #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord x f!reader #wonder woman 84 #ww84 #my fic

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icollectyoursins · 4 years

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Ive got a humble little request for some Speedwagon appreciation? 👉👈🥺 I love him so much but nobody gives him the love he deserves. What about one where reader (f) has a GIANT crush on him, like, full on giddy schoolgirl puppy love. 🥰 And since its, well, Victorian era, she's never really had a "crush" on guys before, so she thinks she's really good at keeping it hidden but she's NOT lmao. Like always looking for excuses to sit next to/compliment/hug him and is super obvious and cute? 🥺🥰

Oh yeah, we stan Speedwagon in this good Christian house. He is best boy. 100/10. He 100% needs more appreciation.

Just for context, this takes place in the time before he goes to help Jonathan in part 1 (Phantom Blood). He’s met Jonathan, but not gone there just yet. It’s implied at the end that he leaves to help him at the end of this.

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: slight violence (not a lot maybe like 2 paragraphs), wholesome Speedwagon content.

Word Count: 929

There was something about Robert E. O. Speedwagon that you just couldn’t resist. It was something about his smile and the kindness in his eyes that had you head over heels. It was an odd feeling for you, men and boys never really interested you when you were younger, liking a good book or a soothing walk more. And then there he was.

You were cleaning up your family’s shop when he walked in, all smiles and laughs. He started asking you about the little charms your family made, making general conversation, then he left with a few things. You thought nothing of it, until he kept coming back. Slowly, but surely, you started to develop what your friends would call a crush on this man that, at this point, you didn’t know the name of.

You’d see him on the street, this kind mystery man, he’d smile widely at you, occasionally giving you a kiss on the hand if he was feeling more gentlemanly. Every time, you’d blush like a fool, giggling like a school girl. He made you feel something, like butterflies in your stomach, making your heart skip a beat.

One fateful day, he came in the store, looking for something for his friend. You were feeling rather brave that day and, as you were showing him around for the umpteenth time, you asked him what his name was.

“Oh! My name is Robert. Robert E. O. Speedwagon,” he funnily exaggerated the last name, making you giggle more than you probably should have. He told you that it was a mouthful to say, so you can just call him Speedwagon. You smiled. Speedwagon. Stupidly, you thought of what your name would be like if you had his last name. (Y/N) Speedwagon. It sounded nice.

The rest was history. Occasionally, you’d ask him if he wanted to go on a walk, but then he’d start coming by every day for a daily walk. He’d walk you home after you finished cleaning the store, which made your heart flutter. Soon, you were looking for every excuse to be with him, to hear him talk, and laugh. Reminding him every chance you got that he was amazing, complimenting his hat or his coat.

He would always laugh, tell you thanks and then compliment something on you or say that “you’re too kind, (Y/N),” or “how do you have the capacity to say such things to someone like me?” You’d always blush like a fool and tell him that you just like making people happy. Which, wasn’t wrong, but more specifically, you want to make him feel happy.You didn’t know a lot about him, but there was something about him that made you feel like he needed a reminder every now and then.

Your parents would give you a knowing look when he’d come over to the house. You were always confused when they did so. Were you too obvious? Oh, no. What if he knew? Was he being nice so you wouldn’t get hurt?

The thought made you love him more, in a self-pitying way. He was so kind, even if he wasn’t interested in you, he’d still laugh with you, make you smile. Whoever his wife was or would be, you envied them. You knew that no matter who he was with, he would make them feel more loved than ever before. You wanted that. A lot.

Speedwagon was walking you home one day, when some rude assholes decided to try and steal your bag. Two large men with knives in their hands and alcohol on their breath cornered you, threatening you with the edge of the knives. He was quick to punch them, fending them off while you ran away down the street. You found yourself in an alley way, panting, clutching your bag close to you. Did he really do that? Did he just risk himself so you could get away?

The sound of footsteps running got closer and closer to you. Panic began to set in. What if he didn’t get away. Tears started rolling down your cheeks as you began to imagine the blood pooling on the cobblestone, washing down the drain in the rain.

You held your breath as whoever was running came around the corner.

“(Y/N)!” It was Speedwagon, thank god. “(Y/N), are you okay? They didn’t hurt you, did they?” You shook your head no, you were fine thanks to him. He smiled thankfully, pulling you into a giant hug.

You were shocked, but didn’t push him away. It was greedy of you, really, to want to take him away from everyone else, but feeling his arms around you, holding you closer than anyone ever had. You never wanted this to end. Your arms snaked around him, pulling yourself into him.

He stayed there for as long as you wanted. You needed this. So bad.

“Thank you,” you said weekly. He pulled you back slowly, brushing your tears away gently with his thumbs. He smiles at you, filling you with warmth, making you do the same.

“Hold on to my arm, I’ll keep you safe the rest of the way home, that’s a promise,” Speedwagon offered you his arm and you clung to it, thankful for the stability next to you.

Finally at home, he walked you up the steps, then stopped. “(Y/N),” he said, holding your hand in his. He was visibly struggling to find the words to say. But, he smiled, then just pulled you towards him, kissing your cheek gently, catching you off guard. “Stay safe for me.”

#speedwagon jojo #reo speedwagon #what a good lad #10/10 would recommend #speedwagon x reader #robert speedwagon #robert speedwagon x reader #ask #answer

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navypine · 3 years

Text

Tags/Writing Masterpost

Summaries of all my original works/characters and the blog tags associated with them.

Bottom of the River

[heavily inspired by the tv show Hannibal]

Clara comes home to find her mother murdered by what the police believe is an emerging serial killer. Clara vows to find this monster and exact revenge. Finding woman killers is easy, finding the right one is harder, but Clara finds she shares the talent for patience, hunting, and slaughter with the man she is hunting. As the bodies pile up, Clara doesn’t realize how close she is to her goal until it’s too late.

(includes tags c: the darkness I became & otp: no rest for the wicked)

In the Midst of Zarahemla

Recent college grad Eliza returns to her small Utah hometown while she searches for a job. The smothering parents, stifling social hierarchy, and scorching sun were all things Eliza expected. But something darker is simmering under the surface. A rampant drug scene. An economic recession. Whispers of cult activity. Eliza struggles to understand the horrors around her as well as face the generations of trauma that are coming to a head within her family.

(includes tags c: I have a lot of regrets about that)

Into Darkness

[basically inspired by a time I rewatched The Ring and thought “what if we had a movie from Samara’s point of view]

Samantha Ives died at age 15, forgotten in death just as she was in life. But her death wasn’t the end of her story. She awakens as something she doesn’t quite have a name for. Not living. Not Dead. She can walk unseen. Travel wherever she wishes. She chooses to use her second life to do good. She learns all she can, experiences all she can, helps all she can. Her work as a guide to other murder victims leads her back to her own demise and a horrifying conspiracy.

(includes tags c: I don’t think there’s a word for what I am & c: gift from god)

The Kids Aren’t Alright

[Star Wars AU, basically just an excuse for me to write about complicated brother/sister relationships]

Breha Solo is the second child of Leia Organa and Han Solo. Her relationship with her parents and older brother, Ben, is tumultuous at best. But when she witnesses her uncle Luke nearly kill Ben in his sleep, she chooses to follow Ben to Snoke’s First Order. Because her connection to The Force is much weaker than her brother’s, Snoke deems her useless. But her skill with a lightsaber is undeniable. Caught between not wanting to abandon Ben and not knowing whether her parents would let her come home, Breha tries to find her way in the galaxy. Her answer may come when Ben comes back to her with a cut open face and word of a girl from Jakku.

(includes tags brotp: god’s gonna cut you down, c: we’re the things that love destroys, otp: we almost made it)

Blessed and Cursed + The Terror and the Horror + Arise Guardian

[these are all set in the same universe and are a part of one giant story]

Blessed and Cursed

[set in a fantasy, ancient history setting]

In a small corner of the world, two young children prayed to their small, regional god. The boy, Dmitri, asked for the power to protect those he loved. The girl, Selene, prayed for the power to destroy her enemies. Their god answered them by giving them the same world altering powers. Powers that they could pass on to their children and grandchildren. The children of Selene used their power to install themselves in power to conquer and rule. Dmitri’s lone child decided to use her power to become a Guardian of the powerless common people. The story follows this large family as they navigate their power and self-assigned destinies.

(includes tags: blessed and cursed, c: I rise with my red hair, c: messenger of the old gods, c: born of ash)

The Terror and the Horror

[set in a fantasy, medieval setting, several thousand years after Blessed and Cursed]

Elaena is the second daughter of a royal line in decline. After decades of her father leading their dynasty into the ground, he finally dies. Her sister rises to the throne and begins the work of restoring their house to its former glory with Elaena’s help. Their half-brother, angry that a girl would inherit over him, begins a bloody civil war. This story follows first Elaena, then her niece Helena as they try to keep their family from falling into oblivion as Kings and Queens rise and fall around them.

(Includes tags c: matriarch, c: fear and devotion, brotp: sorry about the blood in your mouth, otp: doubt not my love)

Arise Guardian

[set in a modern-day fantasy setting, several hundreds of years after TTATH]

Thousands of years after the descendants of Selene and Dmitri were blessed by their god, hundreds of thousands of people can trace their heritage back to them and possess magic powers. The office of “Guardian,” once a revered position, is avoided by most at all costs. Guardians act as peacemakers, soldiers, spies, and activists. Being a Guardian invites misery and death not only to those in the office but all those around them. Despite this, a new generation of Guardians begin their training as young children so that they may take their place when they become adults. This group navigates their way in a world that is increasingly dangerous for them.

(includes tags: c: unwitting savior, c: I was not made to be subtle, c: her mother’s daughter, c: half empty girl, c: aspiring beam of light, c: the prodigy, c: lion hearted girl, c: but a good man, c: righteous in wrath, c: the heiress, c: pinnacle of centuries, otp: we are inevitable, otp: cold and broken hallelujah, otp: I will always chase you, guardian squad)

Test of Faith

[this started as a story I wrote exclusively for my friends when I was 14 when dystopian YA books were at their height. It’s basically a giant “Found Family” story.]

A group of friends try to survive after most of the western United States is wiped out. In the ruins of a civil war-torn America, they help rebuild a new community all while wondering whether the apocalypse of their religion has come to pass.

(includes tags c: wild and lonely, c: prodigal daughter, c: I believe in us, c: bedrock, c: I’m so sorry, c: burning bright, c: full heart, promised land)

#are yall ready to feel better about your ocs and original works?#come look at how silly mine are lol #i wanted to write something but didn't know what so i did these #this is your captain speaking #some of these titles are set in stone so they might change #and i'll just change all the tags

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heyjude19-writing · 3 years

Note

Im the list anon again and boy do I have more for you but this time I also have some questions as well if your time allows and you are willing to answer of course. First with the other things I loved:

1) the fact that Ron warmed up to Draco so quickly! I genuinely think thats so much in character. Ron is not a distrustful person and as a middle child as they come is very easygoing and would for sure make stupid jokes at Draco

2) The patronus. My god the Patronus. I seriously put the phone down and made a small slow clap during that chapter. At first I was like hmmmm *insert unsure kombucha girl face* because almost all fanfics have him with a dragon patronus and leave it at that (and lets be honest at this point my expectations of you were quite high dont blame me blame your bloody brilliant writing) but then, and I dont know if you did this on purpose or not (I have a feeling you did) but the fact that the dragon was the same (pale white) wounded but still feral dragon that Hermione FREEED (!) from a bank (£££) dungeon, malnourished and used for its nature, surrounded by darkness, wealth and misery!! And it was Hermione who broke its chains!!!!! Is just *chefs fucking kiss* slow clap*

3) the way you describe sex scenes are so natural! Ive never read a fanfic or book that doesnt make me gag a little bit (I am not a fan of smut at all but ill go with it because of a good story) until I read yours. Its so simple but yet intricate and you make the entire act so intriguing and normal and intimate. Bravo.

4) I LOVE SASHA. I love that Theo fell for her head over heels and the way you portrayd her reminded me of a friend of mine who works as a sous-chef in London so I always pictured her when reading it!

5) Dracos inner voice is ON POINT. Like I genuinely think you shoud own the rights to that character now.

6) Ill say it again. I love Ginny. You should also own the rights to her character too.

7) my interest for Quiddich (even when reading the books/wathcing the movies) was on par, if not lower than Hermiones. You managed to get me interested in that too so yes another slow clap to you

7.1) Also such a clever career for Draco!! Made si much sense!

Now to some questions

A) What was the deal with Malfoy referring to Ginny as Weasly and refusing to aknowledge her Potter surname. And why did everyone kept correcting him? It was hilarious granted but I wanted to know whether the reason you included this time and time again had to do wih something deeper? Or was this included as just a funny recurring joke?

B) Why did you choose for Draco to have a “fantasy” to produce a patronus and not for example for him to have had to do that after theyd exchanged “i love yous”. Very interesting angle and i liked that it was sort of a loophole to all the ‘death eaters cant have patronuses’ but quite curious on the thought process

C) Why did you opt for Draco to remove his mark? Do you think that stands as reward for him more or for Hermione? Very smart solution by the way

D) if you have the time- Could you please elaborate a tad more on what the soul-bonding means? Why was it so taboo? At furst hand it seems like a very romantic/amazing thing to do with your partner right?

Lastly- Do you ever itch to make a second part to this? And in the most acceptable case that you dont, I always wondered what you had in mind for them in the future- because of the soul bonding thing, you mentioned that the generational curses will be erased, which means I guess that the Malfoys can have more than one child now, and girls as well. (I cannot believe im asking for this as I am the one to avoid any pregnancy fanfics but) do you imagine them with children and if yes, how many? How do they integrate muggle devices(I know youd agree wit me that Hermione would definitively bring some muggle stuff over!) and which devices would Draco really secretly like?

Pleasewriteasecondpartwhereyouelaborateyourthoughtsonthisthankyou.

Ok rant done. :D

List anon! You’re back with another amazing ask. I’ll do my best!

1.) I like to think Ron matured a lot post-war (not enough to stop making terrible jokes, though.)

2.) Regarding your beautiful analysis of my specific dragon breed for Draco’s patronus: How many points would you like for your Hogwarts house of choice? I will add that according to Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, the Ironbelly’s scales are normally a metallic grey. I will also add that I subscribe more to book canon than movie canon. In the book version of events of the Gringotts escape, Harry breaks the chains and Hermione (with eventual help once the boys catch on) destroys the ceiling so it can have a way out. The partially blind dragon does the rest of the work on its own.

3.) Thank you, that’s very flattering.

4.) Does your friend also get you into fancy restaurants and can they make salted caramel bread pudding???

5.) Thank you, it was one of my favorite aspects of writing this story.

6.) Thank you, she’s so fun to write and flesh out from her book portrayal.

7.) Haha, I felt so validated by that line of dialogue in Cursed Child when Draco tells Harry he wanted to play quidditch professionally, but wasn’t good enough.

Now to some answers:

A.) It’s definitely a recurring joke. It’s up to the reader to interpret Draco’s actions here: is he doing it to be a massive troll? Or is he genuinely not retaining the information of her married name because he considers this fact so unimportant that he does not bother to keep it in his brain? Troll, snob, or both, you can decide!

B.) I’ll address the second part of this first, because it was not intended as a loophole. I 1000% do not understand the “death eaters can’t have patronuses” thing. It makes absolutely no sense. Snape has a Patronus. But beyond that… Umbridge has a Patronus (a cat). If we’re letting that woman have a Patronus, then yeah, I think Draco can cast one. As for the vision that Draco used to conjure it… up to you whether that’s a fantasy or a glimpse of a certain ritual actually working. Draco’s thoughts on the matter: “An image of such striking tangibility that he might have already lived it, or perhaps experienced time in such a way that he lived it now.”

C.) I wanted Draco to have a choice, obviously a recurring theme for him in RN. For my characterization of him, that symbol on his arm causes him nothing but shame and self-loathing (see the end of chapter 36 during his heart-to-heart with Hermione). He’d already exercised almost every known avenue to rid himself of it before Hermione entered his life (he lists these in chapter 44). Hermione already loved him (and has told him so) by the time she’s figured out how to remove it: “I love the man you are today and I will love that man tomorrow, bare forearm or not. I simply wanted you, for once, to have the choice. It’s your body.”

D.) Ooh anon, you are tempting me here. I really hate to be coy, but you might see some future writing on this very topic.

I can at least answer the taboo part: I think soul magic in general (horcruxes, the use of unicorn blood) is quite taboo in the HP universe. As no one knows what happens after death (not even ghosts, Nearly Headless Nick says as much when Harry asks him point-blank in OoTP) I think most magical folk would think the intense ritual (blending magical cores) an unnecessary thing anyway. As Draco explains in chapter 48, since no one actually knows the effects or if it works, it’s considered a bit over-the-top since it’s probably futile anyway. It is also not a Vow with a death component; Narcissa is obviously alive in this story even though Lucius is already dead. I wrote the generational curse protection theory in as a dig at Cursed Child for the way they handled Astoria’s character.

The idea of it I think is romantic, but I will stress it is very dependent upon the intent of the two participants. To quote Draco in chapter 48 again: “To twine one’s soul to another showed a willingness to not only physically tether one’s self during your time here on earth, but to commit to a blending of your magical cores, putting faith in your magic to recognize its bonded counterpart in another life. Should other lives even exist.”

If you re-read Draco’s experience during the bonding ceremony in chapter 51 (starting from this bit: “The cognizance of his own powers never felt sharper, more familiar, but suddenly another power pulsed within to join with his.”) you might find it bears a resemblance to the trajectory of their relationship.

Lastly- I’ve left Draco and Hermione to their wedded bliss. I’ve got nothing planned for them beyond where they are in the final lines of chapter 51. I don’t have that itch to write more into their future because it would feel forced. Draco laid out his two envisioned futures with Hermione in chapter 48 when they discuss having or not having children. They are happy and content in the life they chose together. That’s all I ever wanted for them.

You will see more from this story though. I have an entire series of one-shots and outtakes from the published Remain Nameless timeline that I’ll start posting soon.

Thank you so much list anon! These were fun to answer!

#remain nameless #dramione #list anon #asked and answered

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