#and acting upon assumption can be dangerous

[kay-jaye]

bit on the side?

bit on the side?

crowley doesn’t know what the fuck that even means. ok, yes, he’s familiar with the deluge of terms humans have concocted to define the complexity of their relations to each other.

side piece. sneaky link. friends with benefits. fuck buddies. situationship.

crowley knows what it means. he does. but when nina speaks the phrase to him, crowley can’t seem to recognize a single language, alive or otherwise dead, in which the words she says make sense. he briefly wonders if this is his version of aziraphale’s french.

because she’s talking about aziraphale.

aziraphale, the angel. the angel who likes his tea without sugar, but his wine with company. the angel who claims to have a distaste for “bebop,” yet crowley has caught him mouthing the words to queen’s “good old-fashioned lover boy” more than once in the bentley. the angel (bastard) who enjoys subjecting crowley to his magic act antics that under no circumstances would crowley ever admit to finding amusing or, satan forbid, endearing. the angel who popped into paris during the reign of terror because he got peckish for crepes, and even the threat of guillotine in that damp bastille cell could not deter him from baked goods in the end. the angel who still insists on dragging crowley to see productions of shakespeare, despite both being present for the original opening nights of almost every play the man wrote. the angel who is what heaven is supposed to be incarnate—pure and kind and too good for his own good, really.

and crowley is a demon.

he doesn’t think any of the typical labels apply. they’re not human, after all; it couldn’t be that simple. crowley can’t pinpoint exactly when it started or when it changed. 6,000 years is a long history to comb through. it was more than the acquiescence of two immortal beings to the familiarity of each other in a world full of temporary creations. it was more than a bloody arrangement at this point. crowley doesn’t know how it can be more than whatever it means to inhabit the other’s body and walk right into fatal danger, but they are. he’s inclined to cut his losses and say he knew—because deep down, he did know—he’s been fucked since eden and the damn wall and the damn rain he can’t help but associate with revelation.

other people’s love lives, nina had said. love lives. she’s projecting, crowley knows that. whatever’s going on with her and…lydia? linda? they say love makes you blind, but crowley would argue you see plenty of things. every passing glance between sips of champagne; every smile at the crisp sarcasm rolling off a forked tongue; every brush of fingers over the exchange of a briefcase full of books, the shaky grip on a tartan thermos, the drunken grab for another glass of wine across the table. silly things. things that aren’t there. for all the times aziraphale has implored him to read more, crowley swallows the urge to say he already reads into things more than he should.

he’s imagined it before; what it would be like to have more. a fair share of people have made assumptions about them in the past, though he’s not sure whether aziraphale has picked up on it, but that’s not why crowley suddenly feels as though armageddon is upon them once again. never has someone alluded to anything as…intimate as “hooking up.” crowley can brush away the implication that they’re together, but something screeches to a burning halt the moment nina insinuates what crowley’s only ever allowed himself to think about when he’s laudanum-level drunk and lonely because he has a greater chance of not remembering in the morning.

he remembers though. that’s usually when the guilt kicks in, when he’s hungover because he forgot to miracle the alcohol out of his system before passing out, and the headache pulses with the constant reminder that aziraphale is pure, pure, PURE. nothing he imagines on those nights is pure.

what gave him away? and if nina can see it, can aziraphale?

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #i'm writing look at that

[adiluv]

❥ MERCENARY + HOMEMAKER SPOUSE HCS. ˚⊹꒷

☁️୧・꒰word count꒱ 1158.

🌼୧・꒰warnings꒱ takes place pre-manor.

🦆୧・꒰adi moment꒱ request here! these were originally supposed to be combined into one post, though i decided to split them since they ended up full length regardless, lol. i had a lot of fun writing this, i think it's a super adorable scenario! hope you enjoy! ꒰˵•̀⤙•́˵꒱૭

you can find eli's version here!

꒰🗡️꒱・Naib isn’t exactly accustomed to how peaceful life is with you, having gone through most of his entire life without any opportunity to relax. First, it was the war, which—for obvious reasons—proved to be a rather heavy strain on the man, both physically and emotionally. Even after he’d decided he’d had enough of the bloodshed and defected, living within Britain certainly wasn’t cheap, and he was still unable to seize the chance to step back—though he now had his job as a mercenary to blame for that one.

꒰🗡️꒱・I’d imagine that Naib would prefer to live in a more rural part of Britain, perhaps in a cottage not too far away from the city. Not only does he benefit by encouraging your aesthetic preferences ꒰which is for the best, considering he’s got no taste for design, himself꒱, but he also manages to keep you safe. Two birds with one stone, really. Of course, while living outside of the city does make his line of work slightly more tedious, he’s more than willing to deal with commuting than to move you anywhere closer to such prying eyes.

꒰🗡️꒱・That is to say—he kills, and he gets his assignment done. It’s simply business, as cruel as the reality is. But who’s to say that those close to the victim won’t try to seek ‘reimbursement’ of their own? He’s seen the way that people act when they’re desperate, and he’s seen just how far down they’ll stoop to achieve their goals. For this reason, he’s incredibly protective over you and the life that you share. The thought of anything happening to you is one that he actively despises, and he’s always on the lookout to make sure that nobody’s following him back home.

꒰🗡️꒱・You’re in no real danger while Naib is around, at the very least. He’s got years of experience killing and protecting under his belt, so it’s safe to say that most attackers prove to be of little to no threat to him. Sure, there are occasions where he’ll receive a couple of scratches every here and there, though those tend to be the only signs that anything had even occurred. You’ll patch them up upon noticing them, gently scolding him for attempting to hide his injuries, yet he’s always really preferred to be discreet about such occurrences. In his mind, there’s no need to worry you over a pest that’s already been dealt with… But he is thankful for your concern.

꒰🗡️꒱・As an extension of this, he’s very much insistent on accompanying you whenever you head out—a habit you’d only receive explanation for well into your relationship. Finding out that your partner is a mercenary certainly is quite the shocker, especially when it re-contextualizes the instances in which he’d depart whilst citing ‘work’. Even still, I’d say that Naib was even more shocked when you’d decided to stay with him—under the assumption that there would be no more major secrets kept between the both of you. Regardless, he still couldn’t help but be confused when he’d awoken the next morning to see that you were still sleeping soundly to him. He’d truly expected to lose you. 

꒰🗡️꒱・Although he sends some of his paycheck back to Nepal, you’d be genuinely surprised by the amount that he has left back. Whether it be just by his lack of desire to splurge or simply due to how lucrative his… career choice is, the man is rich—far more than you’d ever guessed. You’ll never be without anything that you need, considering that Naib is perfectly content to allow you to decorate the house and buy anything that catches your fancy.

꒰🗡️꒱・He’s got enough in savings to comfortably retire from his duties as a mercenary, something that he’ll do if you express discomfort with the job. It takes him some time to fully realize that that chapter of his life has finally come to its conclusion—and he’ll be eternally grateful if you attempt to help him ease the transition. Practicing for job interviews and reminding him of what excuses to use should anybody question the sizable gap in his resume does eventually help him snag a new job of his own—free from all the bloodshed of his past!

꒰🗡️꒱・One of his greatest struggles in re-adjusting to an average job would easily be working alongside other people. It’s something that he hadn’t really done since he was in the army, and even then—thinking about his old comrades had the tendency to leave a bitter taste in his mouth. His general introversion does nothing to help him, either, with him preferring to keep entirely to himself or a select handful of trusted individuals. There’s also the added factor of his coworkers just… pissing him off for no reason, as well. He just can’t seem to understand why they’re so incompetent—surely, such simple tasks can’t be all that difficult?

꒰🗡️꒱・Considering his background, you’ll have to admit that it’s quite interesting to see him getting so heavily worked up over something that’s so mundane, though you’re aware that his lack of options wasn’t any fault of his. You do listen to all of his ranting and raving, something that you’d initially recommended to him as therapeutic, though he’d only come to understand why until that first gossip session. He’d ended up getting really into it, and… I don’t think he can go back, honestly.

꒰🗡️꒱・Naib tends to get progressively cuddlier as time goes on, but I’d also say that his desire to cuddle with you is also rather dependent on his mood. It’s relatively safe to say that he’d prefer to be the big spoon—the just something satisfying to him about having your curled up, and safe within his arms—though he’d also still love to be held by you every now and then. Especially so when it feels as though he’ll drown within the memories of his past.

꒰🗡️꒱・Even if he decides to quit his job as a mercenary and return to the life of an average civilian, the pain that he’s felt—and inflicted—isn’t something that just… goes away. There are times where it’ll haunt him, where it’ll break down his walls and make him feel like a microscopic mess. It will claw at him, tearing him down and turning him into a shell of himself, where he just wants nothing more than to be rid of such terrible memories—and you wish that there were a way for you to remove them.

꒰🗡️꒱・He loves you, and he’d never hurt you, but he’s absolutely terrified that he might. Please hold him, please reassure him that you’re there for him. Reminding him that he’s got a whole life ahead of him to live, and that he’s far from alone—that he’s safe, at least now—it helps him… And he appreciates it, more than you could ever know. So, no, he’s never quite understood what it means to have a peaceful life… but if it’s with you, then… He doesn’t mind learning.

i have a taglist, which you can sign up for here!

#꒰📍꒱﹕my writing ⋆ #identity v #identity 5 #idv #id5 #idv mercenary #idv naib #naib subedar #identity v naib #naib subedar x reader #identity v x reader #idv x reader #identity v headcanons #idv headcanons #identity v headcannons #idv headcannons

[eldritch-spouse]

The cleric genuinely interest me, especially about that one post dragging a human down to keep them. Does it have any emotions at first or does it learn while it’s active? If he does drag a human down with him, what happens to the human when the cleric is inactive? Does Krulu do anything if he notices his creation got attached to someone? I also wonder what texture its body has. Most importantly, how does the cleric feel when it shags someone lol. I imagine it learns to like the activity a lot whore

[That's specifically a scenario where reader's an outsider, and though I don't necessarily consider it to be canon, preferring the idea of the Cleric being more likely to flock to its maker and vessel, I can sort of work with it.]

Does it have emotions?

Emotions are always there. From day one.

What happens is that the Cleric doesn't have the maturity and reflection necessary to not only identify emotions and feelings for what they are, but also understand how to express, conceal, or process them in a way that is socially acceptable. Or minimally healthy. It initially appears devoid of feelings, especially to you, but that assumption doesn't last too long, as you specifically inspire overwhelming emotion in the Cleric. Something it can't conceal, can't control.

There are no directives telling Cleric what to do here, so it doesn't have to act a certain way, communicate within guidelines or present itself in a very firm mold. You're privy to their most raw, unfiltered emotions and impulses, which not only reveals just how emotive this being is but also how dangerous of a mental state they're in.

Naturally, the Cleric is able to learn and absorb new information. As someone who they care about, your words and actions mean a lot to them, meaning you can fill in the blanks that Krulu left, so long as they're not immediately contradictory to the higher's rules. Cleric exhibits the same discrimination towards humans as the rest of the people in the establishment do, so it can often take some of your words and reduce them to unimportant human blabbering.

What happens to you when Cleric is inactive?

Chances are Krulu stumbles upon you upon his return. Since the Cleric made a specific room in a floor inhabited only by you, to which there is no elevator access in or out- Only the siadar can see it. He's extremely confused upon noticing you, immediately removing you from the strange mockery of a room and activating the Cleric once more so it can explain why the fuck it's hoarding a human.

Nothing in its innate directives should lead to this type of scenario. While you might be too traumatized by the presence of a god to speak, Keyhead McGee will attempt to explain, in logical terms, why you had to be kept in a room. You're unpredictable and new and it... It had to. Why? It just had to keep you. They can't provide a satisfying answer, and although the Cleric stands before its master dutifully, it knows it could die at any moment.

It's the flip of a coin.

If you don't get over your terror and mutter anything, Krulu will crush your head and dispose of you like a crumpled sheet of paper. If you can say something intriguing enough, you're kept alive so Krulu can study why his creation is drawn to you. You get a room modeled to your liking, courtesy of the Cleric's work.

In a way... He almost sees himself and Admin in you two. The very early stages of his and his vessel's bonding.

What is the Cleric's texture?

Rough and dry, for the most part. The thorns on its hips, thighs and knees are particularly sharp and hard. Extremities such as the hands and feet tend to be softer.

Their head has a glass-like feel to it, light emanates from within it, emotions will cause said luminescence to heighten or diminish. The key is dense and heavy to the touch, metallic, though easily supported by them.

What does it think about sex?

The Cleric is no stranger to sexual activity. It's some of the most common acts performed within their walls. They know what desire is, they've seen carnality and all sorts of genitalia, they know what an orgasm looks like and what is involved in one.

There is curiosity in them regarding the acts, but arousal only emerges when they come in contact with you.

Everything they feel towards you is so intense that, at first, it doesn't even register its own attraction to you. Then the Cleric gets to touch you openly, feeling shivers of delight coursing their entire body -The first hints of pleasure- And it understands. It wants you. It can have you, open you, fuck you.

But first, they have to discover their own body. Because, hilariously, the Cleric doesn't even know what type of genitals it has. They know they have something, because there's a slit on its pelvic area, but what lies within is a total mystery. They know what you have, at least.

You... You can help them with this, right? That's how it works. You're supposed to touch each other.

You'll soon find the Cleric has several long but thin tendrils for genitals, all quite dexterous and able to perform a variety of strange sexual motions.

Naturally, the first time they come is explosive. You may find the room around you spazzing into different shapes and colors as the entity's control over its own form wavers in their ecstasy. Perhaps, a couple floors above, several things got displaced- Chairs are now glued to the ceiling and the bar got thrown into the wall, the lab acquired a bottomless hole Patches almost sunk into, etc...

They want to do it again. And again. And again.

#Cleric oc

[wedonthaveawhile]

The Serpents Hold // Chapter Fifteen

Summary: When Sebastian turns to dark magic to cure his sister, Nova and Ominis find themselves reluctantly thrust into a partnership to aid him. Amid the disapproval of Ominis' family, Nova wrestles with her growing feelings for him and also with the nagging suspicion that Ominis knows more about Anne's condition than he's letting on.

AO3 // Masterlist

"Anne?" Nova's voice was nearly drowned out by the howling wind as her knuckles rapped incessantly against the weathered door. With one hand clutching her hood to prevent it from being whisked away, she trudged through Solomon's flower patch to peer inside.

A solitary candle on the dining table cast a weak glow across the empty kitchen and vacant living space, though it fell short of the beds in the remote corner of the room. Nova strained her eyes to discern even the faintest hint of movement. Her breath hitched as she caught the sound of a muffled cry. Tumbling her way back to the front door, she grasped the doorknob and found it to be unlocked.

"Anne?" Nova whispered as she crept inside.

"Nova, is that you?" a frail hand weakly reached out from one of the beds.

"Yeah, it's me. May I come in?" Her words felt somewhat redundant considering she had already broken in and now stood shivering in the entryway.

"Sebastian... needs help," Anne's chest rattled as she pushed out each word.

The gusts of wind hammering against the window panes made it difficult to hear her soft voice.

"Where is he?" Nova shuffled closer, summoning a dim lumos and allowing her soft light to fall upon the ailing witch. She fought to stifle a gasp.

Anne's skin had paled to an almost bluish hue. The once dark purple circles under her eyes had deepened into inky black with raised veins snaking out from beneath them, pulsing visibly with every strained effort she made to sit up.

Anne surrendered to her exhaustion and slumped back against her pillow. "He’s… not at Hogwarts?"

"No… I don't think he's been at school for some time," Nova said, her concern overriding her manners as she began to sift through the scattered papers on Anne's bed. "And what about Solomon? Is it wise for you to be here alone?"

"He's work-" the words jammed in Anne's throat, and she convulsed with guttural coughs.

Nova shoved the blank pages aside and rushed to the kitchen, wrenching open every cupboard until she located the glasses.

"Here," Nova kept the cup steady as Anne took slow sips, pained whimpers escaping with each gulp.

"Soloman's working... taking on extra shifts," Anne breathlessly smeared the water that had trickled down her chin. "Could you... please... go get him?"

"I'm sorry, I can't explain in detail, but we can’t mention Sebastian or the catacombs to Solomon. It could put Sebastian in serious danger."

"What? No... He needs help. We can't... let this continue."

"We won't," Nova placed a comforting hand on Anne's arm, trying her best to hide her reaction to the clammy layer of cold sweat. "We'll find a way to help him, I think Ominis has a plan-"

"You think?... Ominis hasn't been here... he doesn't know how Sebastian's been acting. He... needs help now!"

"I understand, but if you could just hold on a little longer..."

"No!" Panic pierced through Anne's pain as she mustered a meagre cry. "Does it look like I can wait longer?!”

"Alright!” Nova pinched the bridge of her nose. “Just give me a moment to think." She was led to believe Anne was the less explosive of the two, but she could have definitely given her twin a run for his money when she was at full health. "When was the last time you saw him?"

“Not... not long ago. Told him about the letter... I sent you." Anne gestured to the papers strewn across the foot of her bed. "He sent a letter too... assumed it was for you… then stormed out."

"If the letter was for me, I haven't received it," Nova said as she picked up the quill and ran the feather between her fingers. "Is it a reasonable assumption that he's down in the catacombs?"

"That's my... best guess.”

Nova groaned into her palm. She’d endeavoured to block out any memory of her previous venture to the catacombs. Every time she found herself in a confined space or even a closed room, her mind was plunged right back into that cave with the acromantula.

"If I go and find Sebastian, can I count on you not to inform Solomon?"

"It's dangerous," Anne mumbled weakly, her protest lacking the passion of her previous objections.

"I've been there before, I should be able to find my way around without much trouble. I’ll bring him home," she said, though a twisting sensation in the pit of her stomach made her distrust her own words. If Sebastian was half as unstable as he had been in the Undercroft, trying to reason with him would be a lost cause.

"Where's your owl?" Nova grabbed a scrap of parchment and scribbled a note.

 

Ominis,

Sebastian's in the catacombs and I'm going after him. It’s the only way to keep Anne from informing Solomon. Need you here.

Nova.

 

 

The jagged edge of the cavern bit into Nova’s skin, but she was certain it would swallow her whole if she dared to loosen her grip. Her eyes darted through the darkness, desperately searching for any sign of Sebastian lingering near the entrance, but there was nothing but shadows.

The biting wind made her eyes water as she glanced back down the path she’d clambered up, briefly considering waiting for Ominis. However, she knew he would likely insist on going in alone and it would end up becoming a drawn-out ordeal. That thought spurred her on and she took a clumsy step forward, channelling her fear into a blinding lumos.

A disillusionment charm offered some comfort but couldn't mask the retch when she came upon the decomposing acromantula. Her stomach churned with bile as her wand's light played tricks across the walls, making it seem as if the spider was stirring back to life. Fear might have rooted her in place for a while if it weren’t for the sound of footsteps snapping her back to reality. The inviting warmth of candlelight spilling from the adjacent chamber encouraged her onward, but it was Sebastian's voice cutting through the tunnel that soothed her unravelled nerves.

"Down here!"

Nova dispelled the charm and burst into the chamber in a billow of dust. Peering through the suspended candles from her vantage point, she spotted Sebastian pacing a tight circle around the sarcophagus.

His eyes widened as they locked onto hers. "Nova?"

She shot down the ramp and crashed into him. He felt unusually thin as she wrapped her arms around him, and he was shockingly pale. The dark circles under his eyes were evidence of sleepless nights, but he was safe.

"I'm so sorry for everything, I never wanted us to fight. Where have you been? I've missed you." She babbled as she clung to him.

"Why are you here?" He tensed, his fists clenching tightly at his sides.

She blinked in confusion at his response, given that he had summoned her into the chamber only moments ago. Her relief faded sharply when she pulled back and noticed the wild fear in his eyes.

"Were you expecting someone else?"

She glanced past him to the stone carving they had uncovered using the Imperius curse. With a clearer state of mind, she now noticed the intricate details. Her finger ran along the carved skeletons that held it up, noticing divots and faint trails of blood marring the stone.

“You shouldn’t be here.” Sebastian's bloodied fingers clamped around her wrist in a bruising grip as he attempted to drag her toward the exit.

"You shouldn't be here," she echoed, her fingertips brushing his bruised knuckles and broken nails, evidence of his erratic attempts to obtain the relic. "You need to come home."

"You don’t get to tell me what I need to do.”

Nova planted her heels firmly into the cavern's dusty floor, the abrupt halt causing both of them to stagger. She drew in a deep breath before addressing the topic of his sister. It was a risky choice, but the only one that might garner his full attention.

“Sebastian, I don’t think Anne has much time left, you should make the most of the time you have with her."

"You have no idea what you're talking about, I could save her if you stop fucking intervening!" Sebastian’s readied wand crackled with anger.

"I'm just trying to help. Could you come home for a little while so we can discuss this? Ominis is on his way-"

"Why did you involve him in this?" Fury tinged his words as he closed in on her. "I asked you not to, time and time again."

Nova resisted the urge to retreat and instead took a step forward. "You're not well, Sebastian. You need help."

Sebastian's forthcoming protest was stifled by a sharp crack.

A commanding figure loomed beside the stone coffin, dust settling at his feet. With an air of unruffled composure, he removed a speck of lint from his impeccably tailored black suit jacket and cast it to the ground, as if his sudden apparition were the most natural thing in the world.

Nova shrank against Sebastian as Marvolo's cold stare locked onto hers. It took a moment for him to recognise her, but when he did, his face twisted with disdain.

"I explicitly instructed you, in rather precise terms, to be alone," Marvolo hissed, his voice dripping with venom. Nova lurched back as he advanced, her words reduced to fragmented syllables as she struggled to form a response. Marvolo’s sharp eyes flitted to Sebastian. "Explain.”

"I... She followed me, and I, I didn't mean to..."

Nova’s mind raced a million miles an hour, yet she couldn't grasp a single coherent thought. Her fingers made a barely perceivable twitch towards her wand, but Marvolo's hand moved like a blur. In an instant, she was disarmed, her wand sent tearing across the chamber and clattering to the ground.

He closed the distance between them with measured strides, thrusting the tip of his wand into her throat so forcefully she feared he might draw blood.

"I don't appreciate being summoned," Marvolo snarled, pointing a trembling finger toward Sebastian. "Are you under the impression your time holds greater precedence over mine?"

"No!” Sebastian staggered backwards, nearly losing his footing. “I'm sorry, my sister started involving others, I didn’t have much time.”

"That is not my concern. Now, we have this situation to resolve." A pained whimper was wrenched from Nova's throat as he drove the wand deeper.

“Y-you can let her go, she won't say anything. Nova, tell him… Tell him you were never here."

Marvolo arched an eyebrow, "Do you honestly believe you can ensure her silence?"

She shot a desperate look at Sebastian, but he remained silent.

She couldn't fathom why Marvolo was here, but she was certain that Sebastian wasn't aware of his role in cursing Anne - he was acting far too passive. His hot-headed reaction upon discovering her and Ominis together in the aftermath of the fire made her believe if he were aware of Marvolo's actions, one of the two would likely be dead already.

"He cur—" Nova tried to voice a warning, but it was curbed as her body slammed to the ground.

Marvolo jammed his wand into her temple. She could feel herself screaming, but the sound was muffled and distant. Pain sliced through her mind as he tore through her memories with ruthless precision, unravelling every moment since she last laid eyes on him.

He watched her fight with Ominis on the bridge and her subsequent realisation that the Gaunt’s cursed Anne. He searched for any evidence she had divulged this information to Sebastian but found none. Instead witnessing her and Ominis agreeing to keep it between them, their night in the Undercroft, and their kiss the following morning. He skimmed through her weeks of heartache, suffering the absence of her two friends. He ripped away the legilimency spell when he reached her scribbling a letter to his brother, directing him to meet her in the catacombs.

She slumped to the floor, feeling as though he had flayed her brain and left it permanently damaged. She wanted to shout at Sebastian to run but couldn't even summon the strength to cry.

"What are you doing to her?" Sebastian's voice fluctuated in volume as her vision slowly cleared. "You don't have to do that."

Marvolo grabbed a handful of Nova's hair and jerked her face upward to meet his. Her eyes rolled back as she fought to sharpen her focus on his face. "I can't wait for my brother to discover the mess I'm going to leave behind," his hot breath hissed in her ear. He quietly muttered a silencing charm before allowing her to crumple to the ground.

Sebastian took a cautious step forward, but Marvolo's sharp snap of fingers brought him to an abrupt stop. "Tell me what we're doing here."

"I detailed everything I could in the first letter I sent you," Sebastian blurted out, grabbing the opportunity to occupy Marvolo's attention. "My sister has been cursed, and no one has been able to help her."

Marvolo cast a glance toward Nova, ensuring she was paying attention. "Go on, I’ve quite forgotten."

"I've been researching curses, and there's a relic in this chamber that could be the key," Sebastian explained. He stumbled over to the carved chest, pressing his palms against it as he swayed from exhaustion.  "It holds a type of ancient magic capable of bestowing and lifting dark curses. I need to cast a killing curse to open it, but I can’t do it. Ominis has told me stories of your seventh year… how you killed a centaur?”

Marvolo's nostrils flared, unnerving Sebastian to the point that he pressed back against the cold cave wall.

"That's just what I've been told... Sir," Sebastian's eyes darted up and down Marvolo's imposing figure as if he had only just realised how unhinged this plan was. "If you help me gain access to the relic and use its power to heal Anne, you can keep it. I just want to help my sister."

Nova tried to scream through the charm, but it only made her throat burn red-hot as the magic stifled her attempts.

A cruel glint entered Marvolo's eyes as they locked onto her face. "An intriguing proposal," he drawled with a menacing smile. "What, or whom am I required to kill?"

"I've brought a Mooncalf!" Sebastian's face lit up, blissfully unaware of any underlying threats.

The malevolent wizard threw back his head and erupted into a scathing cackle.

"What?" Sebastian snapped, his hands clenching into tight fists as he bristled at being the object of mockery.

"What makes you think a beast would suffice?"

"I... The books did mention the curse needed to be directed at 'someone,' but I assumed casting the curse itself would be enough…"

"Do you believe Salazar Slytherin, the greatest dark wizard who ever lived would truly accept the notion that killing some insignificant creature would be a worthy sacrifice?" Marvolo sliced open the nabsack that lay at Sebastian's feet, releasing a rush of wind that sent long-abandoned cobwebs snagging across the chamber walls. In its wake, a Mooncalf tumbled out in a dishevelled cloud of dust and fur.

The bewildered creature clambered to its feet, braying as it scampered around in sheer confusion. Nova recognised him by its heterochromia, it was one of Hogwarts' beasts, Poppy's favourite. She managed to gather some strength and reach out a twitching hand in an attempt to soothe the nervous animal.

"Avada Kedavra," Marvolo's wand moved with a rigid flick.

The vicious flash of emerald lightning tore through the chamber. Nova's vision swung between pitch black and a smoky, scorched blur as she heard a mournful neigh and felt something keel-over lifeless at her feet.

Sebastian bolted toward the stone chest, slamming his fist down on it with a brutal crunch upon finding it remained tightly sealed. He unleashed a primal growl of either pain or frustration as his surge of hope vanished, his shoulders slumping as he sank to his knees.

Marvolo watched in amusement as he tucked his wand back into his pocket. "It needs to be a human…"

Nova stroked the velvety fur on the Mooncalf's neck with jittery fingers. Her clouded mind struggled to remember the name Poppy had given the creature, and it was that thought that finally unleashed the tears and wrung a strangled sob from her throat.

"…It's fortunate you brought one along."

Nova's teary stare slowly met the sinister grin on the Gaunt's face.

"What?" Sebastian's voice cracked as he positioned himself defensively in front of her. "No, not her. Absolutely not.”

“Do you see an alternative? This is the path you've put yourself on, and now, you must walk it.”

"You could, I mean... There must be someone else, someone more... more deserving. Surely, you know someone like that."

"Don't pin your moral dilemmas on me." Marvolo's furious strides closed in on Sebastian. "Your choices led us here. You summoned me before you were fully prepared, before your research was done." Marvolo raised Nova with his wand, lifting her off the floor so she hung suspended.

Sebastian swallowed hard, "I just... I can't make that choice."

"Are you suggesting you value the life of this half-breed more than your sister?"

"I'm saying she doesn't deserve to die," Sebastian whispered.

His lack of conviction made Nova's stomach churn, her screaming pleas suffocated by the grip of the silencing charm.

"Deserve is subjective, and I'm pressed for time, you don't get the luxury of a moral debate."

A surge of adrenaline heightened Nova's focus. The gleeful sparkle in Marvolo’s eye was all she needed to conclude this was nothing more than a cruel game, a prelude to his final strike. Sebastian's decision in reaching out to the Gaunt’s regarding his cursed twin had undeniably crossed a line and they’d found it necessary to silence him.

"I'd terminate her existence in an instant for my brother," Marvolo shot her a mocking flash of teeth.

He was toying with them before butchering them both and abandoning their lifeless bodies for Ominis to stumble upon.

If she could speak, she might have bought time until Ominis arrived but questioned whether he could face Marvolo, and likely unstable Sebastian, single-handedly. Ominis was no duellist; his wand was a shield in times of danger, but it leaned toward defence, not offence. She needed to find a way to push Sebastian into action and secure their rescue.

Her pleading eyes met his wild gaze as it darted around beneath his sweat-soaked curls, “Let me talk to her.”

Yes, Sebastian.

There was a brief, tense moment when she feared his request might be denied, but Marvolo stripped her of the silencing spell with a self-assured grin.

Nova felt as though she were vomiting words, her trapped thoughts tumbling out in a wild torrent.

"He cursed Anne—" Nova immediately realised she shouldn't have begun with that, but it was too late. Sebastian stumbled backwards, evidently not hearing the rest of what she was desperately trying to convey. "Noctua brought him to the scriptorium, he killed her, and he followed the same path as you. He already has the relic. He's here to kill you, he’s going to kill us both, you have to get us out of here, Sebastian, please!"

Sebastian's ferocity resurfaced in the blink of an eye. "You're lying," he spat.

"Of course, she's lying," Marvolo's lips curled into a sardonic smile.

"Sebastian, you have to believe me. His family thought Ominis and Anne were involved in something that could tarnish their bloodline. He used that same curse as a threat against me."

"You're insufferable," Marvolo lifted her higher above the ground. "I won't endure this any longer. I'm leaving, and if you have any sense, you won't dare to contact me again."

"No, wait, please." Sebastian grabbed Marvolo's arm, but he hurled him to the ground in disgust.

Sebastian's knuckles whitened as his fists disappeared into the tangled strands of his hair. He gazed up at Nova, still on his knees. "She's my sister. She's everything I have."

Marvolo derived perverse delight from watching Sebastian's mounting pain, intentionally pushing him to the brink of hyperventilation.

Nova was assaulted by a profound sense of defeat. Even if, by some miracle, Sebastian didn't choose her over Anne, Marvolo intended to erase all loose ends, they were both dead regardless of the outcome. She reluctantly accepted the only way to put an end to Marvolo's sadistic game and alleviate Sebastian's suffering was to allow him to make the choice with as little emotional turmoil as possible.

I can't wait for my brother to discover the mess I'm going to leave behind.

She clenched her eyes shut and whispered a tearful apology to Ominis, grateful he wasn't present to witness this. "Do what you have to do, Sebastian," she choked out, her voice trembling. "It's alright, I understand."

 

A thunderous crack signified the impact of a spell before a searing pain ripped across Nova’s back.

Her eyes snapped open, and she found herself staring up at the floating candles swaying erratically, their flames flickering in and out of focus. She could hear shouting, but it felt miles away, drowned out by the ringing in her eardrums. The explosions of landing spells rocketed around her as she tried to crawl for cover, but her efforts to rise up were met with stubborn resistance.

"What do you think you’re doing, boy?" A fierce voice roared from the entrance of the cave.

Marvolo deflected an aggressive spell, crimson sparks erupting in a fiery blizzard around him as he propelled it back towards the gruff voice.

Nova thrashed in a frenzied panic, her chest heaving as she fought to push off the oppressive weight that was pinning her down.

"Keep your head down," Ominis chided, firmly grounding her shoulder while the other deflected spells that threatened to ricochet their way. Her mind lagged behind and she simply stared at him, his words flowing straight through her.

Marvolo skilfully redirected another spell, steering its erratic trajectory directly towards them. Nova wrenched herself free and shrunk into Ominis, red sparks grazing her cheek as he returned the spell, striking Marvolo square in the chest.

"What's he doing here?" Ominis took her wrist and ushered her behind the sarcophagus, using it for cover. His hands glided over her face and threaded through her hair, inspecting for any signs of injury. “Has he hurt you?”

A tsunami of potential responses crashed down on her, leaving her struggling to articulate any of them. Sebastian conspired with your brother. I told him everything. He was going to stand by and let Marvolo murder me. “He killed Poppy’s mooncalf,” she broke down in anguished sobs.

Ominis clasped both of her hands firmly in his. "I'm going to get you out of here, alright? Do you think you can run?"

Nova twisted her legs more out of instinct than with clear intention, managing to cough out a feeble confirmation.

"Alright, good. I’ll need your help detecting an opening.”

The cave trembled as the dark wizard and former auror continued their furious spellcasting. Debris pelted them from above as young acromantula scuttled across the ceiling, disappearing into the rugged crevices of the rock.

"Soloman, please stop! Listen to me, we need him!" Sebastian pleaded, brushing away beads of sweat that threatened to blur his vision as they dripped from his furrowed brow into his eyes.

"You've crossed a line this time, Sebastian. She's beyond heali-" Soloman's words came to an abrupt halt as he was forcefully blasted into the wall.

Ominis hauled himself up leveraging his wand to snatch hold of Marvolo and unbalance him with a forceful tug. He tumbled backwards, crashing unceremoniously to the ground. As he grappled to regain his composure, Soloman raised his wand, preparing for the decisive strike.

“Expelliarmus,” Sebastian instantly disarmed his uncle.

In that fleeting moment of shock, Marvolo conjured a searing bolt of emerald lightning and directed it at Soloman from his position on the ground.

Soloman's body convulsed with electric energy as the spell struck its mark. He went rigid, folding in on himself, and then lurched forward from his elevated position, crashing violently to the ground just inches from Nova and Ominis.

Nova felt Ominis' fingers tightly interlocking with hers. He might have been shouting something, but she wasn’t sure.

The lightning surged over Soloman's body one last time before shooting toward the locked box held up by carved skeletons. Sebastian stumbled over his own feet as he crashed to his knees and wrenched it open.

It was empty.

Taglist: @glimmering-darling-dolly @wedonthaveajiffy @slootmagix

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts oc #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #ominis gaunt #ominis x mc #ominis x reader #hogwarts houses #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #ominis gaunt x mc #ominis gaunt headcanon #ominis gaunt fic #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x you #ominis gaunt fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow x reader #dark sebastian sallow #hogwarts mystery #soloman sallow #anne sallow

[waywardwhump]

Tw: main character death, car crash

You know those RPG maker horror games? Ib, Mad Father, Witches house?

I've had a concept idea for a while. Probably not going to get much further, but fun to think about.

Trio of friends, one works in an underground science facility, one is a detective, one is a baker. They've been friends since childhood and remain close despite their wildly different career paths.

The scientist is doing illegal stuff. The detective is unknowingly investigating them.

The game starts with the baker following the detective in her investigation. She thinks it will be helpful to have a new set of eyes, and given that the detective hasn't had any luck thus far, lets her come, breaking the rules but doing so under the assumption that they aren't going to find anything anyway. The detective's been at this for years, the trail is cold, but at least this lets the baker feel like she's doing something helpful.

A few tutorial segments later, whoops, the baker successfully helps the detective find the underground science facility.

The scientist heads them off before it can really set in what they've stumbled across. They haven't entered yet, they're just outside, but the surveillance system caught them a while ago.

The scientist is supposed to report to her boss, which would see them captured for expiraments. But they're her friends, so instead of doing that she comes out and it very quickly devolves into a shouting argument.

The baker tries to calm them down, she hates seeing her friends fight. The two of them, the scientist doing a criminal act and the detective looking to bring her(and the lab) to justice, snap at the baker to just go. She's a civilian. This is dangerous. Leave. In the heat of the moment, they aren't exactly kind.

She leaves. The argument goes on for a bit. Before the detective can call for backup, the screen blacks out and all three of them wake up somewhere else.

Very science fiction mixed with horror; the lab was working on a machine that can hook brains up to a dreamscape, and was illegally experimenting on humans to do so. The boss, having realized that the scientist was essentially betraying them by not reporting her friends to security, sent out a pulse that dragged everyone within a certain distance of the facility into the dreamscape.

Now the trio is stuck and they have to fight their way out.

A lot of the dreamscape is based on their own fears, something of a silent hill thing going on, idk. They make progress and work together, but the whole time the detective and the scientist are fighting.

The baker tries to get them to stop, but she seems distracted. She tries, more than once, to ask the scientist about something, but the other two are arguing so much that whatever her concern is keeps getting talked over. She gives up after about the third time, somewhat early on, and focuses on trying to keep the group together.

The plan is, of course, to escape the dreamscape, wake everyone up, and go for help.

They get to the end, and they're about to leave.

The baker says she's not going to follow them.

Upon being asked why, and upon them finally giving her a chance to talk, she says...she'd gotten in her car after they'd yelled at her and driven away. She'd been upset, of course, and was driving fairly fast, and then the dreamscape pulse got her and she woke up in the computer.

She'd been in a speeding car when they'd all fallen unconscious.

She's uh, pretty sure she's dead.

They part, the scientist and detective leave her there, and the last level of the game is them escaping the lab to call for backup and get the whole thing shut down.

It ends without direct confirmation that the baker is dead, but it's highly implied. The other two(the scientist especially) has to live with that now.

#whump #mine #tw: death #tw: car accident #tw: car crash

[ruinaimagines]

Hello, hello! Quite happy to see you back, was getting a bit worried seeing you be inactive for so long! That aside I was curious what your thoughts would be on how the Sephirah would react to an employee teaching nothing there to shitpost!

These poor poor sephirah… And thank you for the concern! I assure you that even if I depart I am likely a-okay. This was a fun one, hope you enjoy

Sephirah Reacting to an Employee teaching Nothing There to Shitpost Headcanons:

Malkuth would be absolutely baffled upon hearing whatever ungodly things you taught this aleph to mutter. It’s enough to make even a workaholic like her freeze in her tracks with sheer confusion. Why.. Did you teach it to say that?? She imagined that an employee capable of repeatedly working with such dangerous abnormalities would be a bit more mature.. Her assumption was wrong. She might scold you a bit but I think she’s too fascinated with it to actually care too much. Usually she always has something to say.. But this? No words. Kind of thinks some of the bizarre things you taught it to say are funny but would never admit that because she does not want to tarnish her attempts at being the prime sephirah.

Lord, I think you would send Yesod into cardiac arrest. Probably calls for a meeting to figure out who’s responsible for this and chastises their immature behavior being unbefitting of a corporate employee. It depends on how good you are at keeping a poker face because his pure seriousness about this is absolutely priceless. You’d think he was yelling at you for kicking his dog or something. Sighs with a really stressed tone and probably utters something under his breath as the meeting ends. If you are found out you’re likely going to get a huge scolding and have to work overtime. It’s worth it though.

Hod is sort of nervous first and foremost because she is concerned about the safety and potential repercussions you can experience for training an abnormality in such a way. After seeing how much fun it is for you though she’d support it considering the place is usually so dark and dreary.. It’s a nice contrast to see some people enjoying themselves. Doesn’t understand half of the things the meat dog is saying, but over time you may find she is gradually developing a quiet sense of humor towards the stupid things you do.

Netzach helps you. He does not care at all for this place, let alone formality, so you can guarantee he’s probably making his own suggestions. Also finds it funny to see Yesod so distressed over this. He doesn’t really interact with the abnormality itself but he will cover for you if you need it, implying it's someone else or even taking the blame altogether just so you can get away with it. You two are a devious duo and there is an impending sense of dread whenever you are in the vicinity. This is pretty much the only time he puts effort into planning things out and it’s all for some dumb humor. Definitely have inside jokes.

Tiphereth is like Yesod but worse. Huffs about how she’s the child yet you keep acting like one, doesn’t get half of the things Nothing There says but immediately knows it’s something bad, and can always tell when you are plotting something. If you work in her department with the abnormality, she has on multiple times threatened to move you out, and has even gone through with it once. It somehow does not stop you. Stares at you with the intensity of 50 suns the moment you have the audacity to step in the slightest direction of Nothing There. She has scrounged every single part of the corporation’s terms and conditions to find some rule you’re violated, and made multiple reports on why you can not keep getting away with this. Only Yesod really agrees.

Chesed is thoroughly entertained by this. He may not outright participate like Netzach, but he silently encourages it by urging you to continue telling your stories. Most of the time he’s just sitting around doing work in his office so he’s not going to say no to something new. Doesn’t really take part in your scheming but always knows when something is done because of Tiphereth, it’s his alarm that you’re up to trouble. Has hosted you in his department to hide away from the others like a fugitive before.

Gebura hates abnormalities. She does not understand why you are doing this, especially when it poses an unnecessary threat to your own safety. Overall views abnos like Nothing There as detestable creatures incapable of domestic feats like training. That said, hearing it cuss out and insult employees –even sephirah– at times is pretty funny. It says things that no man working there would ever have the courage to, and that bluntness is laughable at times. She believes that if you are going to mess around with it somehow then this is one of the least awful ways.

Hokma is too tired for this man. He’s old and too caught up in philosophical ramblings. Doesn’t necessarily tell you to stop, but if you bring it up he will turn it into what feels like a 4 hour session dissecting the implications that’s vaguely reminiscent of when grandparents go ‘back in my day’ and proceed to verbally produce an essay. You’ll be asleep by the time he’s finished and remind yourself to never directly approach him about it again. I think he would let you off easy because he totally would have thought about doing this when he was younger.

Binah’s reaction is completely incomprehensible. You’d think by the way she was staring you down with an ominous aura that she was unimpressed by your childish attempts at playing around. You couldn’t be more wrong. She is going to cease an opportunity to mess with people at any point, and will directly help you with getting Nothing There to shitpost. You think Netzach would plan things out? She has a full schedule that she presents to you to optimize the teaching process, carefully plotted out with graphs and condensed sheets of paper. You will figure out how to make it speak full sentences bordering on some revolutionary discovery all because it’s humorous. No one knows she is helping you because she is so good at keeping it hidden behind a neutral look on her face. No one would dare question Binah after all, not with her intimidating composure, which makes it so easy for her to take part (not even you initially thought she would go along with this). It’s a secret alliance between you two.

#lobotomy corporation #lobotomy corp #lobcorp #malkuth #yesod #hod #netzach #tiphereth #chesed #gebura #hokma #binah #lobotomy corporation headcanons #lobotomy corp headcanons #lobcorp headcanons #headcanons #hcs #x reader #platonic

[muu-kun]

Career Breakdowns: Muu's Employment at a Brothel Edition. Part One.

Background information pertaining to the business in which he is employed by:

Name: Cracked Saddle. It was through his own curiosity that Muu came to learn that the name is intended to be a reference to many different things. One of which includes the fact that the ongoing matters within the establishment invoke the assumption that all used and worn out in a matter akin to a cracked saddle would come about in time and longevity of usage. Another is that of the observation that saddles are prone to cracking due to the conditions presented in frequently riding a horse. The bit about riding was really all that the owner of the establishment needed to go forward with when he put his time and money into an establishment centered on men primarily servicing other men.

The Boss himself: Cracked Saddle is ran by a surprisingly very kindhearted man by the name of Bertram Wild Okabe, a born and raised third generation American who's family lineage remains distantly connected to Japan. Having spent his childhood in the deep south of the United States, he grew to form an appreciation of the aesthetics and values behind the culture Native American communities in the vicinity. Lessons taught to him as a boy by those kind of enough to take his spiritedness curiosity under their wing have carried with him as an a middle aged man who's focus in life is to tend to those less fortunate than himself. In his prime, travels about the Earth in search of meaning and home amongst the vastness of the planet, brought him face to face with witnessing the tribulations faced by young men on the streets, more lost than himself. No matter where his impulsiveness and yearning to live life to his fullest, conversations had with those in a state of adolescence that mirrored his own would stick with him the most. Enough so in fact that on returning to where he felt not just the most like himself, but also the most in tune with the heart of rhe universe around him, he took to building a property in which he could facilitate a safe space to exist for likely those some young men turned to adults after years of surviving on the streets with a limited education on much else than utilizing intimate encounters as a means for money to be spent on food and supplies for making it though the day out on the streets. For him, the goal has never been to stop sex work from taking place. Instead, he solely intends on maintaining an environment in which those in community can come seek out an avenue for their urges that doesn't include going out onto the streets to scope out the barely above children that shouldn't be out on them in the first place. If those employed under him were asked what sort of connection does he functionally maintain with all of the men working at Cracked Saddle, the answer would unanimously be that he makes each of them feel loved by him entirely. Never would he allow for any of them be subject to harm, or to venture forward with an act with an individual they did not fully provide their consent towards in the first place. While it may be an objectifying business, he himself makes no point to make those working for him feel that way under his gaze by any means. Never does he offer pity either. These are people arguably more brave than he could ever consider himself to ever be, so why would he have thought to glance upon them as if they were merely pawns to profit from? The only instances in which he has thought to send harm any of their ways is out of punishment for referring to him as a fuddy duddy. Yes, he may be a stickler for rules; however, he was once cool in the face of danger well before some of the men in his care could even walk and talk. As the person who writes out their business reports at the end of each month, was it really all that much to ask for consistent respect?

General Information of Big Bertram himself:

Name: Bertram Wild Okabe.

Nicknames: Wild Card by most, as well as Bertie / Birdy / Ram-man by a specific, strange named employee of his known as Muu.

Age: 48

Birthday: January 16th, 1976.

Height: 160cm / 6ft3in

Sex & Gender: Male. Though he welcomes all identities with open arms, he himself doesn't associate himself with anything other than being an ordinary cismale.

Sexuality: Pansexual. A self described lover of all. His preference, though, lies with women. It just remains unfortunate that he can not settle with one as his far too independent lifestyle prevents him from complete commitment. In regards to position in the bedroom for those with dirty, curious minds, Bertram is a full-fledged top. Submissiveness in that way has never been in his demeanor and he has no plans for that to change at any point in the near or distant future.

Relationship status and children: Chronically single and none that he knows of for the time being. The likelihood of such is high, but not yet confirmed. He'd love to be a parent, though, so such an opportunity would be welcomed by him should such occur naturally in his life any time soon.

#; ♡ ; cracked saddle reference

[hael987]

The more I think about Kit Connor’s forced coming out, the angrier and sadder I get. It never should have happened.

These people are so chronically online they've forgotten the dangers of the real world (as well as things like common decency, compassion and respect for privacy). They've forgotten what boundaries are, completely lost in a parasocial relationship. You’re not entitled to any aspect of him or his life. People treat him as a commodity, not a person. The disconnect from reality is astounding.

He was harassed to such an extent, he’s just a kid, barely 18! Not to mention a real person’s sexual identity can’t be “queerbait” and how the harassers co-opted that important word just to use it incorrectly to carry out harassment. Further, he repeatedly expressed his desire to not reveal or discuss his sexual identity and that - his wishes and autonomy - was just completely ignored and trampled on.

The cruelty of taking away something deeply personal to someone. A person coming out should hopefully be a moment of self acceptance, self revealing, and self celebration happening if a person chooses to, on their terms. And all of that got taken away from Kit, it deeply saddens me. They took away his control, his power, his feelings of safety (due to the harassment) and also the potential future happiness that he could have experienced if he came out on his own terms. Also the fact that he’s so young and it was forced out of him due to harassment, it truly makes me worry about the impact this will have on him emotionally and developmentally, as well as how he’ll now view and feel about the queer community that should have been a safe-haven for him (members of whom forced this situation upon him).

I know it wasn’t just queer people that harassed him, but I feel that so many people seem to have forgotten their roots and the true nature of our queer community: it’s supposed a celebration, a space of security and togetherness, not some ideology based on gatekeeping. A focus of celebrating and supporting those that are in it, instead of a focus on keeping people from/out of it. That the queer community is supposed to be exactly that - a community. It’s supposed to be safe for queer people, both out and closeted alike. Yet more and more people seem to go out of their way to make it unwelcoming - and worse, unsafe - for the latter (i.e the closeted or the questioning).

Not only is someone’s sexuality none of our business but the whole “only queer people can act queer roles/ write queer characters/sing queer songs/be involved in queer media” movement is so unsafe. Media forms have been and always will be for expression and exploration, both of the world and self. While I appreciate the sentiment probably initially stemmed from good intentions (like providing more opportunities for queer actors/voices/creators, the want for authenticity and accuracy for queer stories, etc.), it doesn’t negate the fact that these extreme totalities, this black-and-white all-or-nothing, are not only reductive* but also harmful**. These mindsets lead to this exact situation Kit found himself in: forcing someone to out themselves just to stop harassment or justify themselves. It’s truly disgusting.

[* and ** under the cut at the bottom.]

What happened to Kit Connor should never have happened. It’s sickening and disheartening that it did. It shouldn’t have mattered how he identified, it wasn’t anyones business but his own. I feel like we should all be ashamed that people thought it was okay to do so. The fact that it happened shows a very real failing in society.

Not to mention the biphobia of the whole thing. It seems it stemmed from that he, a man (actually an 18 y/o boy), supposedly had a girlfriend/is attracted to women. How incredibly biphobic that is. People saw/assumed “girlfriend” and somehow their first instinct was to automatically assume “straight”, get pressed over their own unfounded assumptions, and then demand he prove otherwise. Like why wasn’t the assumption he’s someone attracted to multiple genders and then just drop it? It’s the rampant monosexism/ bi/pan-phobia as well as erasure and invalidation. But if I get started on that point I’ll never stop so I’ll just end this little piece here.

People saying he wasn’t outed because he revealed it himself so it’s ~fine~ are really missing the point. He’s just a kid, how could he withstand that pressure and vitriol being spewed at him online all day, every day. He was left with no other option if he wanted to stop the harassment, his hand was forced. If his options were a) stay silent and suffer horrendous harassment indefinitely or b) out himself to stop the harassment, was it really even a choice? If you cut off all other avenues and leave but one option you can’t then frame that as a “choice”. I guarantee he experienced the same feelings of violation, fear, and loss of power/control that come with an outing.

All in all, I’m so upset by the situation, and my heart really goes out for Kit. I hope he takes time for himself and is surrounded by supportive loved ones. I wish nothing but the best for him going forward.

*reductive:

To enforce such a mindset is oversimplifying things immensely. A person may relate to the role/story/song in some other significant way. It might be an opportunity for someone to understand and explore queer mindsets, struggles and lives. A medium for empathy.

For lack of a better example, as I can’t come up with one spontaneously rn: suppose instead that Kit was Questioning (instead of bisexual). He could have then found acting as Nick - who also goes through the experience of questioning his identity - relatable, or that the experience of studying the character, understanding and acting out the role and mindset incredibly helpful to his own personal journey. Even if he then ultimately discovered he was straight, it was still worthwhile for the role to have been played by such a person. (That was all just an example, not intended to offend or discount his real bisexual identity)

Someone could relate to the struggle of finding, discovering and/or expressing their true self despite not being queer.

Someone could be using it as a form/means to better understand and empathise with a queer person in their life.

Reality/lived experience is never so easily separated, distinct and insulated like some people seem to believe.

**harmful:

It puts someone in a dangerous situation and opens them up to homophobia/transphobia and hate crimes. It jeopardises their future career opportunities (because sadly we are still in a homophobic society and this is a very real risk). It plants the idea that a person’s sexuality is any of our business in the first place thus feeding into a harmful parasocial mentality.

These are but just a few examples and points but there are so many, many more.

#I’m incredibly ill rn so I won’t be engaging with any argumentative interactions I just don’t have the energy #but I’m also so angered and upset by the situation that I had to vent #kit connor #heartstopper #heartstopper cast #long post

[scribbledonausednapkin]

I’ve been researching the relationship between playing cards and tarot cards to see if the cards the group pulled during the ceremony actually meant anything. So far I would say there could be a connection. Here’s what I got (a lot of the descriptions aren’t my own words just paraphrased so don’t come for me):

Clubs/wands- action, passion, inspiration

Hearts/cups - emotions fulfillment, love & loss

Spades/swords - thought and communication

Diamonds/pentacles - material world, money, work, home

Clubs:

-Travis (Ace of Clubs): Symbolizes a pivotal act or fateful step that set loose a chain of events leading toward your desired goal. -This speaks for itself

Hearts:

Van (Jack of Hearts): The taste for adventure is exhausted - there is no more romanticizing of battles. Attitude of being disconnected but also older, wiser. -This gives me more 2021 Van vibes

Melissa (3 of hearts): Agreement, mutual support, and teamwork. -Makes sense since that’s all she does. Also three girls including her hold back Travis

Natalie (Queen of Hearts): Often portrays a sensitive, vulnerable, omniscient person who offers unconditional love. Empathetic - sometimes to a fault. Her caring nature can expose her to everybody’s emotions and needs.— Wow, just wow

Spades:

Akilah (Seven of Spades): Mental fortitude. A canny warrior, someone who works smarter, not harder. Has a thorough grasp on the situation and succeeds through skillful preparation. -Akilah was not down with the card pulling or Javi’s death. That was clear from her facial expressions; idk how this will apply but it sounds like her

Tai (Six of Spades): A person with special knowledge, an insight into sophisticated techniques that may be powerful enough to help in dangerous times. -Sounds like evil Tai will be back

Javi (King of Spades): The adjudicator, a mediator who helps parties in conflict discover common ground and build upon it for the greater good. Examines underlying assumptions and brings clarity to the darkness; questions situations and comes to his own conclusions. - His death did end the hunt & he was going against the “authority” which was not only the group but also the Wilderness

Diamonds:

Misty (Eight of Diamonds): The feeling of overworking oneself, refusing to ask for help or delegate. The person can become consumed with their work. -Misty is a workaholic but her work is her friends and they’ve tried to fire her multiple times

Shauna (Four of Diamonds): Placing too much value on material possessions. Becoming too attached to the material and losing sight of what’s most important. - This is not exactly adding up for me. I’m thinking about Shauna and her being overly attached to Jackie’s necklace.

#is this anything #yellowjackets #yellowjackets theory #jackie taylor #shauna shipman #natalie scatorccio #misty quigley

[ospreyeamon]

the current in the river is not the current in the sea

In SWTOR we are given a Sithly equivalent to the Jedi’s iconic parting well-wish "May the Force be with you" in the form of "May the Force serve you well." This illustrates an obvious contrast in the ways the Jedi and Sith view the Force and their philosophies more generally. The Jedi emphasise the importance of selfless service and hold the Force in religious veneration; the Sith prioritise personal goals and consider the Force as more a neutral aspect of existence rather than intrinsically divine. However, I think there is also a very practical reason for these different modes of engaging with the Force.

When the Jedi say they serve the Force and follow its will, they mean the Light-Side of the Force. Not the Dark-Side. If you asked them about allowing yourself to be guided through the galaxy by the Dark-Side of the Force acting out whatever you believed its will to be, you would be hard pressed to find any Jedi who would tell you that was anything other than a terrible idea. From that perspective, the Jedi’s difference of opinion with the Sith is as much about which aspect of the Force to engage with as how to engage with it, if not more.

The Sith would broadly agree with the Jedi that allowing yourself to be directed by the Dark-Side of the Force is a bad idea, though their explanations as to why it’s a bad idea would probably be quite different. The Sith don’t consider the Dark-Side to be some grand wellspring of Evil (barring the occasional fallen ex-Jedi in possession of Serious Issues). Rather the Dark-Side is, shall we say, wilful. A current that, if you don’t watch and correct for it, will pull you into a riptide and cast you out to sea.

Moving more into headcanon, I think most Sith believe the Force to be a thing of many wills rather than a single unifying one. The Dark-Side in particular is a giant overlapping patchwork; living people, dead people, living planets, dead planets, temples, artefacts, memories, fates, and a host of other things all reaching out through the Force exerting themselves on the universe. Some of these wills may align with your own, some of these powers will be helpful, but others are antagonistic or dangerous. Which ones depends on who you are and what you want – navigating, bargaining, and coercing your way through this landscape is a tricky business. Ultimately, the safest part of the Dark-Side to tap into is nearly always going to be the part connected to yourself, fuelled by your own passions, because the emotion and will are yours.

Following the will of the Force in this context is following the siren call of the creepy holocron whispering that you should pick it up, succumbing to the corrupting aura of the Dread Masters, or drowning in the final wishes of the restless dead. If you can’t impose your will on the Force, you run the risk the Force might impose its will on you. You need to have a firm grip on who you are and what you want if you plan on channelling the power of the Dark-Side.

That lack of the assumption of the Force’s benevolence is why the Sith’s farewell can be interpreted as "good luck staying on top of that tiger you’re riding". It doesn’t make sense to call upon the Force for guidance and protection if you believe you might have to fight the Force or whatever’s living inside it for your soul at two in the morning.

#Meanwhile in a Galaxy Far Far Away #star wars meta #swtor meta #the dark side of the Force #Sith philosophy #the Force #star wars the old republic

[spitxlfields]

Writing a Character with DID -- Part 1

I would like to eventually make a big master list, but that takes more organization and thought then I am currently capable of, so I’m going to post these little snippets and then eventually put them into one big post/document.

*Disclaimer -- I am not a doctor, not do I even play one on TV, however I have been officially professionally diagnosed with DID and am undergoing therapy for it. I have done a lot of research on the subject, and am also the expert on my own experience, but there may be times when I get things wrong or word things in a way that unintentionally lead them to be misconstrued. 

You cannot tell when someone has DID.

Overt DID is pretty rare. Huge oscillations in accent, affect, clothing choices, etc. in quick succession are the exception and not the rule. This isn’t Clark Kent going into a phone booth and coming out as Superman. Most cases of DID present themselves as covert. However, even in overt cases, most people’s first thought will not be “Oh, this person has DID.”, it will be “Oh, this person is really weird.” You are much more likely to be branded by the average Joe in the street as a rogue theater kid than someone with a dissociative disorder. On that note, when it comes to people noticing changes, most people really don’t care to pay enough attention, and when they do think something is up, the human mind is amazing at brushing it off as literally anything else. There are tons and tons are just weird and wacky people in the world who don’t have DID, who change their looks and likes with every passing fancy because that’s what happens to make them happy. Do you want to know how many times even well before I got diagnosed that I have been called ‘eccentric’? I can’t count that high. Unless you are a trained professional observing a client over an extended period of time you as a lay person cannot tell who has DID.

Specifically looking at the majority of cases that present as covert, you are not going to be able to tell when someone switches. This is not the dramatic eye rolling and head nodding you see on TV. It’s more like several moments of dissociation (hence the name of the disorder), maybe a few blinks of confusion, and then back to whatever they were doing. I think most people have had the experience of walking into a room and completely forgetting what they came in there for. It’s similar to that, but with mild to intense episodes of dissociation and happens a lot more often.

DID is a disorder that specifically tries to hide itself from the host/main fronter. Most people who have DID don’t know they have it, and don’t find out they have it until being professionally diagnosed. That’s not to say that you can’t have an inkling that you have DID and then find out you are correct, but most of the time it’s not until psychiatric intervention (and usually after being incorrectly diagnosed with everything else under the sun). Because DID forms in early childhood, the missing time, the identity alteration, the feeling of lacking an identity, the dissociation, etc. becomes your normal and you don’t notice it. And again, the human mind is really good at making up excuses for itself. Many times, a person isn’t diagnosed or thinks they might have the disorder until they are finally out of the dangerous and trauma inducing situation that they are in and are in a safe space. Upon being in a safe space, sometimes alters will act up or act out because there former ‘job’ has been uprooted.

Too add to all of this, surmising whether or not someone has DID is really gross and literally none of your business. Not only are you making assumptions about a person’s trauma, it is also literally none of your business. It also feels very much like trying to clock someone as trans -- there is not exclusively trans look, and there are no gross details that can tell you for certain that someone has DID. DID is also a highly stigmatized disorder, and openly claiming that someone has it can be detrimental to them. Also did I mention that it’s none of your business. I love to be nebby as much as the next fellow, but you need to learn to draw a hard line.

In conclusion -- if you are writing someone with DID, someone who just met them, or even someone who has known them or awhile, are not going to be able to tell they have the disorder.

#dissociative identity disorder #writing tips #did #osdd #moon knight #moon knight rp #rp

[irishhorse-blog]

Okay, just a moment for a little sanity check.

I’ve been having a great time swimming in the Jikook ocean, and it’s a lovely place to be 98% of the time. That being said, I still think that some of my overly-invested comments and the facts of the matter at hand need to be addressed.

1) My commentary

I love Jikook. I love the idea of Jikook. I like to talk about and act as if they are 110% verified grade-A Korean BL drama made real. I like to talk about fan theories and expound upon them as if they’re gospel truth because, let’s be honest, it’s fun. It’s also a fun way to get involved in something that doesn’t involve my father’s cancer, my past, my long Covid, my very sick cat, my work, or any of the other things that make real life a raging migraine. It’s escapism.

2) The facts at hand, as I believe them to be

I believe that Jikook are real. I believe that all BTS members love all other BTS members to distraction. I believe that when they say we can trust them, we can. I also believe that I have healed more in the time I’ve been ARMY than I did in all the years up until I found them. 

3) The facts at hand that we don’t know

The truth is that we don’t know anything about BTS’s private lives. We don’t know their sexualities, their personal plans, their travel agendas, their hopes or their dreams. We don’t know if they’re dating, and if so, who their partner is. We don’t know anything they haven’t directly told us. 

A lot of fanon (fan canon) depends on certain assumptions, some or all of which might be complete nonsense. This is why fanon and real life ARE NOT THE SAME. Don’t get it twisted, and don’t confuse the two. I fully enjoy my fanon and the things that I believe, but I don’t take my belief to equal absolute truth. As they say, there’s my side, your side, and the truth is somewhere in the middle. The same applies to shipping and supporting couples and fandom in general. We will never know what’s real. We should never assume that we do know what’s real, or that we know what another person’s thoughts, feelings, or intentions might be. That’s dangerous to do with someone you know well IRL, and even moreso with someone you’ve never met, will never meet, and will never know except through videos and recordings. 

I know who I think the boys are. I know what I want the boys to be. But just because I want something doesn’t make it so.

But right now, Jikook may or may not be real, and our sandbox is a fun place to play, and as long as we don’t lose sight of what is verifiable and what is wishful thinking, it’s okay to play. Just keep one foot in reality. 

Sorry for preaching. Here endeth the lesson.

#jikook #we don't know anything for sure #belief is not the same as knowledge

[yukidragon]

U know? Actually we always talk about Jack or Alice having a happy family, seeing their ups and downs or their actions towards the pregnancy and the baby.

But in reality we have never stopped to think if the son of Jack and Alice feels about having a ghost father which only he and his mother can see and touch. Wouldn't this create some kind of conflict for the child? I mean, it's great to have a supernatural dad but no one except your family can see or touch him, it's great that you can do tricks like "fly" or "have telekinesis" but after all everyone think you don't have a dad.

Other than that, the boy would gain his father's powers? It would be half human half ghost hybrid? He would be unlucky enough to meet Ian and he told him: "I should have been your father"? What consequences do you think this would generate for the child and what would be its advantages?

This is an excellent line of questioning. There's so many possibilities that are involved, especially since we don't know how the game's story is going to go. For all we know, there might be a happy end route where Jack becomes human again... or maybe a route where he becomes something else and keep his powers while still being able to be seen by others.

My previous pregnancy headcanon posts were done with the assumption that Jack's ability to affect reality stays the same since there's so many variables involved if it changes and how he might settle into living as a normal person. This was to keep things simple for me. It also offered some interesting storytelling ideas, like Ian seeing Alice and her kids talk to empty air, yandere Ian watching Alice get yanked away from him, Jack carrying his baby and (deceased) sunshine out of the hospital, Shaun having to drive Alice to doctor's appointments because Jack can't, and of course what would happen if Jack drove while unseen by others and using his spooky ghost(?) powers on a speed radar.

Personally, I do believe that Jack becoming real and tangible to others is going to be part of the climax of the game... for good or ill depending on the route.

Still, it's fun to consider how the kids might deal with having a dad that only they and their mom can see. It would be something normal to the kids. If anything, they might get upset at people treating them like they're lying and making things up. Alice and Jack would have talks with them early on that Jack is special, so only they (Alice and her kids) can see/hear/touch him. Jack pipes in that it's because they're even more special. Cue a proud papa pulling them all in for cuddles.

It would be a strong source of frustration, but Alice and Jack wouldn't have children without considering that problem. They would've practiced how they would explain it all in a way that would impress upon the kids that it's better not to mention that their dad is a ghost(?). I figure the official story Alice would tell people she can't trust with the truth about Jack is that her partner is shy and reclusive (which was hard for her to say with a straight face the first few times). He is camera shy, and he prefers to only show his face with people he trusts.

Alice would even try to get her family and friends in on the act. The more people who claim this is true, the less likely it seems to be a lie that's been made up. The kids would be encouraged to avoid talking about their dad with strangers or people that aren't close to them, like the family.

I don't have too much in mind yet for their eldest son, but I can imagine him wanting his dad to carry him so he can "fly" and impress other kids. Jack would have to explain that would get the bad kind of attention.

If there's one thing Jack would impress upon his kids, that would be stranger danger. He has reason to greatly distrust "other people." Sure, he's managed to open up more thanks to Alice, but she's a pretty guarded person herself.

Though Jack will compromise and let his son pretend to be a superhero and fly around when playing with his cousins. They know about uncle Jack after all, and were also told to keep it a secret.

Kids being kids, chances are one of them might tell someone else anyway. Even if rumors spread... who is going to believe it that a classmate's dad is an invisible clown? The parents would just tell their child that whoever told them was just making it up. It would be something Jack and Alice would've cautioned their kids not to do for this reason after all.

It would be a complicated situation, one that would require a lot of talking about, but ultimately Alice and Jack would emphasize that some people are just really special. Not everyone will be able to understand things like that, and that's okay. They have each other, they love one another, and they take care of each other. That's what counts.

As for powers... I really like the idea of the kids getting some sort of supernatural power out of the whole deal. I'm not entirely sure what exactly. Hell, maybe if they hold Jack's hand or hold onto him, he'll be solid/visible/audible to everyone who sees him. I mean... they're half of Alice and half of Jack. If they have some of his supernatural abilities and Alice grounds him to reality, what if they could, even unknowingly, do the same thing even more effectively?

It would fit with the idea that Jack would become more real the more his sunshine loves and needs him. His kids would be born needing him.

Aside from that, I'm not entirely sure what their powers would be. I'd be inclined to have them all have different abilities related to the things Jack can do, but not all of them. They're decently powerful, but not as powerful as he is. There's so many possibilities here that I'm not sure where to start. I'd have to give it more thought.

As for a bitter Ian telling their son that he should've been the father... That would confuse the hell out of any kid. Then there's Jack and Alice's reactions...

Alice, when she's a mother, will have strong mama bear instincts. They'll be enough to make her push back strongly against even Ian for her children's sakes. If she overheard Ian saying that, she would snap at him, telling him coldly that no, no he would not have been. She then would tell him to get the hell away from her son and never talk to him or any of her other kids ever again.

Jack's reaction would be worse, naturally. While he would have mellowed by this point to be less violently yandere... Ian would be having nightmares for quite a while to pay him back for that and to scare him away from Alice and the kids. At minimum.

Depending on how hard Ian pushes his luck, he might push Jack into deciding that he really does need to be taken care of... permanently.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #sdj #swwsdj #Headcanon Ramblings #Ask

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Peter Boghossian

Published: Feb 25, 2020

Social Justice is a dangerous, illiberal ideology that is taking over society. Although often associated with “liberalism” in the United States, it is explicitly anti-liberal. One of the core pillars of Critical Race Theory, upon which one dimension of Social Justice ideology rests, is a critique of liberalism, where “critique” is meant as Karl Marx used it and “liberalism” is the broad philosophy of individual liberty upon which the United States was founded.

One of the easiest ways to understand how illiberal Social Justice can be is available to anyone who attempts to criticize it. Those who criticize Social Justice are not thanked for helping to improve its tenets. Rather, they’re called bigots, homophobes, Nazis, grifters, misogynists, or, the trump card meant to silence all conversation: racists. 

Proving its commitment to illiberalism even further, when the accused denies these accusations and demands evidence to substantiate claims that they’re racist, this denial is taken as evidence of guilt. To ask for evidence of racism is considered a form of willful ignorance of racism, according to Social Justice. Then, when the accused points out the obvious, that name calling isn’t an argument and they’d like to have a conversation about the manifestation of Social Justice that led them to be accused in the first place, nobody comes forward to converse. In the Social Justice ideological paradigm, conversing with someone who’s been accused of being a racist, sexist, or bigot would be acting in complicity with racism. (There’s even a word in their lexicon for this, “platforming.”) So conversation is a priori ruled out. 

But Social Justice’s illiberalism is actually far worse. In many situations, because nobody comes forward to speak with the accused—in spite of the fact that he has pleaded with adherents and enforcers of Social Justice ideology to have a conversation—a narrative is then constructed that paints the accused as someone who does not want to have a conversation with anyone with whom he disagrees. Moreover, this is often reframed as the accused being unwilling to have a conversation about racism!

And this is exactly what has happened to me. I have called out Social Justice ideology for being dangerous, illiberal, and unjust. I have stated that it’s an ideology for which not only is there at best scant evidence for its particular claims, but there is actually an entire body of established scientific literature (biology, up against gender studies and queer theory, for example) that contradicts many of its underlying assumptions (e.g., that differences between men and woman are entirely social constructs). I have asked my colleagues and the administration at Portland State University, where I teach, to provide evidence for policies and practices that may be institutionalized (trigger warnings, safe spaces), and I have sent them evidence (Scott Lilienfeld’s or Jon Haidt and Greg Lukianoff’s work) that contradicts these policies. I’ve either been ignored, or ridiculed, or told I’m committing a microaggression and making people feel unsafe. Requests for evidence have even been characterized as having caused them trauma.

From the outside, of course it looks like I’m not having conversations with those who have substantive disagreements, but this is because in Social Justice communities if anyone has a conversation with me they’re contributing to a platform where their claims about reality can be questioned and where alternative views can be explained. And why would they want to do that, given the moral certitude they place in their conclusions? They wouldn’t, especially because Social Justice has been remarkably effective at spreading throughout the society—government (see Benjamin A Boyce’s videos on YouTube), media, tech (note the controversy around the infamous “Google memo”), and, quintessentially, the academy. 

The unwillingness of Social Justice adherents to speak with me—or others who challenge their doctrines—does not stop them from accusing me of not wanting to speak with them. In fact, it escalates those accusations. This is because the primary method of Social Justice is to accuse, whether true or false, sensible or insensible, and to manipulate everything that follows into further accusations.

Sadly, this is exactly the response one would predict given that Social Justice ideology is highly aggressive, intrinsically political, and completely in conflict with science, evidence, and reason. If it were backed by science, evidence, and reason, science evidence and reason would be presented in conversation and there would be no need to call anyone names or accuse people who want to have conversations of not wanting to have conversations. The Social Justice canons would also not need to build an infrastructure that insulates itself from criticism and uses name calling and accusation as the primary tool to dispense its ideological enemies. Rather, it would encourage dialogue, conversation, and even debate. Instead, it sees discourse not as an effective means for determining truth but as yet another political project to oppress people.

Social Justice cannot continue to be taken seriously on its own terms, which it has literally made up. It must be taken seriously in terms of the threat it poses to liberal and civil society, which it is actively undermining and seeks to destroy. I am just one man, of course, but the problems I’m facing are becoming commonplace throughout society—in workplaces, schools, academia, hobby groups, online, and even in churches. As Social Justice creeps into everything and rewrites it with illiberalism, accusations, unfairness, and a conspicuous refusal to have a reasoned conversation about anything it proposes, we put ourselves and our societies at tremendous risk of losing the norms civil society needs to function. We must stand up to Social Justice ideology. We must fight. New Discourses is helping us do exactly that.

==

Remember when people were still saying this wasn't happening, and anyway, if it was happening, it wasn't happening outside the academy? Ah, the days before the Summer of Riots. Good times.

#Peter Boghossian #social justice #criticial social justice #anti science #authoritarianism #woke #wokeness #wokeness as religion #cult of woke #wokeism #illiberalism #liberal ethics #liberalism #religion is a mental illness

[nomniki]

disoriented ━━ kim seungmin ⟡ seungmin didn’t feel he was fit to be an outrider for the knights of favonius; you disagreed.

genre﹒fluff word count﹒933 warnings﹒none!

an﹒i was debating on whether to post these or not but…clearing out my drafts so i am! here is the first installation of my very short skz genshin au series 🙃

to say you felt disoriented didn’t even begin to describe a fraction of how you were feeling. your bottom half was uncomfortably damp, dried only partially by the warm sun that shone high above your head. you didn’t have a clue how long you’d been walking, having been traipsing around in a fairly dense woodland since a little after you’d woken up.

quelling your worry over your missing sibling was difficult, aided only by the worries you had over the uncomfortable lack of awareness and knowledge about your surroundings. another cursory glance around you revealed nothing out of the ordinary, although, the large orange fruits you’d been seeing around were looking more and more appetising.

“uhm, hello.”

you yelled, undignified and shrill, throwing yourself backwards and away from the sudden voice. he, the voice was definitely a males, didn’t approach. you scrambled to your feet hastily.

“sorry. i’m seungmin, outrider for the knights of favonius.”

you weren’t listening, trying desperately to catch your breath after the fright he’d given you.

“sorry again. i’m not very good at this. i should’ve known better than to startle you like that.”

he didn’t seem to post much of a threat upon first glance, although you were still wary of the bow slung over his broad shoulders. in lieu of a response, you surveyed him. brown leather boots were laced up to his shins and long socks that reached to just below his scabby knees. around his middle was a maze of more leather, an intricate web of laces and the fastening of the cloak around his shoulders. under your scrutinising gaze, he fiddled with the goggles around his head, responsible for pushing back his tawny brown hair.

“you can come back with me to the city, or i can direct you to somewhere else, although you don’t look decked out for travel.”

he paused, seungmin, you reminded yourself, and you watched as his lip caught between his teeth, presumably a nervous habit employed in the face of your silence.

“uh, i’ll come with you, into the city.”

you spoke apprehensively, slow and wary. that all dissipated as he perked up, eyes wide and sparkling and smiling widely in a way that was frankly disarming. for all his awkwardness and the frightening beginning to your meeting, seungmin didn’t seem nearly as bad at his job as he was insisting.

“by the looks of it, you don’t know where we’re going. sorry for making all these assumptions based on your appearance, i know that’s kinda rude so, y’know, correct me if i’m wrong.”

you approached him with all the confidence of a baby deer, ready to bolt at the slightest inkling of danger. hesitantly, you fell into stride with him, appreciative of the careful distance he kept and training your eyes on his gloved hand, swinging between your bodies.

“you’re in mondstadt, the nation of freedom. we aren’t far from the city now. i know i’m not great at the whole introductory thing but chan insisted. he’s the acting grandmaster, which basically means that he’s in charge. he’s really nice, he isn’t from around here either, but everyone loves him, so you will too. where are you from? you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to but i’ve never seen anyone who looks quite like you.”

he gave your clothing another curious glance and you frowned, unable to stop yourself from voicing the question plaguing your mind.

“…no one who looks like me?”

“nope,” clearly something in your demeanour gave away your disappointment, because he was quick to add, “wait, should i have? i didn’t mean to offend you or anything.”

you shrugged, “it’s fine, you don’t need to keep apologising. i just…”

seungmin offered you a soft little smile and inhibitions aside, you continued.

“my sibling. they were taken. i guess i was just hoping you might’ve seen them.”

it was clear that you were upset so seungmin began talking again, “just because i haven’t doesn’t mean nobody has. once we get to the city, i’ll take you to minho. he knows everybody, he’s sure to know something.”

you nodded along with his assurances, content to nurture the flame of hope flickering in your chest.

“normally i don’t talk this much, if it's bothering you, you can just say so. i guess i'm just used to being around loud people so the silence feels a little weird."

"i don't mind."

he seemed visibly relieved and you figured the least you could do was reciprocate his efforts to upkeep small talk with you.

"i'm normally not this quiet either, i'm just...disorientated. thank you for being so accommodating, seungmin."

he flushed at your earnest thanks, looking away with a shy smile.

"oh! you never told me your name! unless, that was on purpose and...you don't want to—"

"it's yn."

"...that's a really pretty name, it suits you."

"tell me more about those people you mentioned. the ones in the city."

you prompted, watching in abject fondness at the way his whole face was lit up by his smile alone. even with sand stuck in the creases of your clothes and the slightly damp material clinging to you. even disorientated, both by circumstance and the disarming nature of seungmin's puppy like personality, you couldn't imagine there to be anyone else in the world you would've preferred to run into than seungmin.

although seungmin seemed begrudging about his position as outrider for the knights of favonius, you were glad that chan, whoever that is, had appointed seungmin.

when you reached the city, you'd have to thank him.

✦ to my masterlist

#kflixnet #ficscafe #kim seungmin x reader #kim seungmin oneshot #genshin oneshots #kim seungmin x you #seungmin scenario #seungmin imagine #skz seungmin #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids seungmin #skz oneshots #skz scenarios #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz x reader #genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin au

[victorian-robot]

Fandom rant:

Zuko asking Azula to shoot lightning at him knowing she was a merciless and unstable person was not smart, but isn’t the dumbass move people make it out to be.

Zuko can deflect lightning, it’s something he’s grown rather good at. He’s trying to goad her into giving him the ammunition necessary to end the fight quickly and in his favor. His mistake is primarily that he believes his honor, specifically his tendency abide by agreed upon terms and promises, is not unique to him. His assumption is that Azula is a terrible person who will abide by the rules of the Agni Kai and only attack him. Attacking him with lightning gives him a potential to turn the fight in his favor by putting in an attack he can turn against his opponent and that Azula herself cannot defend against. Azula attacking Katara, the underhanded and dishonorable move, was not something Zuko thought was in the cards and forced him to take the attack in a more dangerous manner than he would if Azula attacked him.

Zuko’s stupidity wasn’t that he was unaware of the danger. The move even had the potential to be strategic. He just had faith that Azula wouldn’t compromise her own honor, the winning of a fair fight which would do more on a selfish level than winning a thrown fight in terms of her dignity. Azula up until this point has been a liar and a strategist, but has not acted in any way considered dishonorable by the fire nation.

His fatal flaw wasn’t pure idiocy, it was a single misunderstanding of the nature of his sister.

#Alta #avatar the last airbender #zuko #Azula #katara #analysis