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bluerosefox · 2 years

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Danyal, Danny, Phantom.

Part 1 (Where the idea came from, very bare bones)

Okay wow, wasn’t expecting so many people wanting a part 2 tbh, also thank you for the follows as well (although IDK why you’d want to follow me, I’m random and rarely post sometimes.)

So before I get into this part 2, I just wanna make a few things clear.

I’m still new to DC/Batman most I know if from the animated series and I haven't seen it in ages, I have been able to get bits and pieces here and there though.

ANYONE is welcomed to use these ideas/concepts, just let me know, send me it, allow me to read it please. If anyone wants to draw some the ideas too that’ll be amazing, just let me know! I wanna see!

Also, I might, keyword MIGHT, actually write this idea into a story too, idk yet maybe. its been years since I wrote an actual fic tbh so I’m a little rusty. (You can actually see I used more of my writing style on this one compared to the last one tbh)

Also the reason I split these idea/concept into parts is the fact I tend to ramble and I knew if I wrote it on part 1 it would had gotten so long so here’s a fresh page with the rest of the ideas...

So the reason why I had this idea is because I read some fics where Ra’s always knows about Danny being either the Ghost King or a Halfa, or can fight him cause he has knowledge, I wanted a story where even Ra’s can be surprised and realizes there will ALWAYS be a ‘bigger’ fish even for that old ‘immortal’ (especially if Danny is Ra’s “failure of a heir.”)

Sorry this took a while, I wrote Part 1 at the end of me being sick by Covid, had to catch up on a few RL things, and legit a few days later my AC unit upstairs broke during a CA heatwave and it was pure HECK being in my room.

Danny is a little out of character but this is how I feel he'll be like with a year of being the Ghost King could be, along with the fact he has help from his friends and ghost friends as well. He's learned how to rule and has grown.

Oh be prepared, this is what happens when I’m allowed to ramble on ideas. This... This got rambly. (You should had seen this and part 3 together, it was so rambly)

So, a few things to note about Danny before we begin.

His name was is Danyal al Ghul (Wayne) Daniel “Danny” Fenton.

He was also known as (Ghost Boy, Ghost Child, Ghost Punk, Halfa) Danny Phantom

He also had other names as well such as The Great One, or Savoir of the Ghost Zone

But... for the last year he has been known as...

Ruler of the Infinite Realm, His Royal Highness King Phantom. Or as he would rather be simply referred to as (when he’s forced to have/use a title)...

The Ghost King.

...King Phantom also worked.

Simple yes, but Danny preferred it. (Again only when he’s forced to use a title, which sadly since being crowned the new King is most of the time now and only those close to him still call him Danny or at the very least Daniel (coughClockworkcough).

SO.... Its had been a year since Danny had been crowned the new Ghost King, sure he was still a teen and it was honestly very hard in the beginning. Learning the ins and outs of the royal courts, setting up his inner court (aka those he trusted), dealing with entitled nobles, and how to handle the the weight of the crown he now wore but he knew he didn't have to face it by himself. Well not all of it, there was a few things he did on his own in order to prove he's a fair King, but Danny honestly loved it when he could get together with his inner circle (more like family) and discuss the recent news of the Infinite Realm (which Danny learned was the actual name of the Ghost Zone, he long since switched to using that name over the one his parents coined), problems needing to be addressed, and upcoming important festivals or days (Danny knew of the Holiday Truce but he didn't know of any other Ghost holidays/festivals until his ghost friends explained them to him) along with a number of his Kingly duties. This was just barely touching the surface of what Danny had to do nearly daily and again it took a while but he eventually was getting the hang of being a King.

Funny enough one of those duties turned out to be healing the oozing scars the old Ghost King left on the Mortal Realm during his reign... because those scars eventually became the Lazarus Pits and had they been causing harm in the Mortal Realm.

By the Ancients, the Lazarus Pits.

That was something Danny hadn't been expecting to hear so soon after regaining his memories from before living with the Fenton’s. And when Clockwork explained it to him, a small smirk on the always age changing beings face, that all the Pits would eventually dry up thus they would no longer be able to revive the dead once Danny started healing them...

Danny had laughed when he had been told this information.

He laughed until he had started to cry. He had even laughed so hard he changed back from his ghost form to his living one and then back again because he lost breath from his laughter. (It actually concerned his friends, Dani and Jazz when this happened tbh) It took a while but when Danny’s laughter finally trailed into hiccups, light coughs, and deep breaths, Clockwork merely floated over and asked with all-knowing smirk on his face “Quite done Daniel?”

You see the reason why this was funny to Danny was the fact that he was finally getting revenge on his ex-grandfather for... well for everything. And he was going to enjoy ruining Ra’s al Ghul treasured little Lazarus Pits with pure glee. The amount of pure joy he felt knowing this even surpassed his feelings for when he’s able to mess up Vlad’s evil plans for the month.

As mentioned before, Danny had no memories upon waking up in a hospital after nearly losing his life from wounds no child should ever have on their bodies. It wasn’t until the night after his crowning that as he dreamed of his past, it was in these dreams he had finally remembered everything. When he had woken up he had instantly went flying to Clockwork’s lair to speak with the time keeper, especially when he had remembered the last thing he had saw before waking up in the hospital.

[“Why?” that was all Danny would ask when seeing the ageless ghost, not bothering to say hello or even small talk like they normally would do, if he had been his living form he would had been breathing heavily from the speed he flown to get there.

“It hadn’t been your time, your Highness.” was the only reply before the ticking of clocks in the room filled the silence between them.]

He had been Danyal al Ghul, the second heir to the Demon Head Ra’s al Ghul, the League of Assassins leader and his grandfather, son of Talia al Ghul, and twin brother to first heir Damian al Ghul.

Talia, his mother, was a stoic woman. A true Assassin. Beautiful yet deadly. Someone Danyal could see now who would do anything to stay in power if he was to be honest with himself. But she did love him and Damian in her own way, only showing them this parental love when they were alone, away from servants and other assassin’s eyes. Some of his fondest memories of the woman had been her cupping his face and speaking softly of how much he looked like her “Beloved”, their father. His eyes, and hair (and his 'soft' heart) were the only things he knew about his father, the only thing he has been allowed to know.

Damian, his twin brother, both of them mostly sharing the same face with small differences and build at the time, his other half, the one that he had came into this world together had, was, is the one Danyal would die for. And he did. His brother was the prefect heir, the prefect budding assassin in the eyes of the others in Nanda Parbat. Much like their mother he tended to try to hide his emotions behind an emotionless mask, he always carried himself stronger than Danyal would, despite them both being five years old they had been born into this life and learned very quickly how to survive that place. But behind closed doors the two would often talk in whispers, of the what ifs of their lives, how their day was, etc etc. Danyal’s fondest memories of his brother was them sneaking out to watch the stars late at night and making a promise to always face any problem together as they held hands and lightly tapped each with their fingers.

His grandfather, Ra’s however was a ruthless and cold man. An ‘immortal’ due to the Lazarus Pits that always brought him back to life, and he had always hated Danyal. No matter what Danyal would do it was always a failure to his grandfather, it didn’t matter if he tried his hardest to be a ‘perfect’ little assassin like his brother, everything he did in the older man’s eyes was a mistake. Any mistakes Danyal did was often met with punishment and pain. He had no fond memories of the man, only a deep seeded mutual dislike if anything.

And it was with this hatred for Danyal, that had caused Ra’s to summon both his grandchildren one night to the combat room and demanded for them both to fight for heir ship. A fight that would end in one of them dying, something all of them in room knew it would lead to. A fight two five years did not want to do but had no choice. Not even Talia’s disbelieving single protest to the fight could not stop Ra’s command.

As the Demon Head, his word was law.

In the end, Danyal couldn’t wouldn’t harm his brother (his grandfather always hated how ‘soft’ his heart was, "to much like his father" was often said with a tsk). They were both only five years old, they were brought into the world together, they told secrets behind closed doors and whispered dreams under the endless sea of stars they would sneak out to see, they would lightly tap messages with their fingers when the other would have bad days and didn’t wish to speak about it but wanted some sort of comfort.

He wouldn’t do it. He wouldn’t harm his brother but Damian... Danyal knew Damian would follow the order to fight despite not wanting to as well, Damian always followed orders with little to no fuss unlike Danyal who always second guessed with whys and questions, Danyal also knew Damian would believe he would fight back in defense at least...

But he didn’t.

Some of the few things he remembered was Damian’s eyes widen in horror, his mother’s uncaring mask and body twitch for a moment, and his grandfather ‘tsking’ at him before he fell onto the cold stone floor. After that his memory became hard to remember, foggy but he knew of this.The pain he felt hurt and he tried so hard to stay alive for a few moments more, he could barely hear anything over his own harsh and deep breathing, his body felt heavy and his hands felt wet from the blood seeping out around him. Danyal could barely hear his grandfather’s voice, and could barely make out Ra’s leaving while his mother guided Damian out of the room, she did not look back and Damian moved like a puppet on a string being pulled away. Danyal barely registered hands lifting him up and carrying him out of the room, his vision slowly fading as he was carried in the dimly lit halls of his ‘home’. His memory became very spotty after that, barely noticing he had been left outside the compound to die and as he took in a harsh breath in an attempt to get air, he could hear two words as clear as day.

“Time Out.” and the only sound following those two words was the ticking of clocks while the last thing he saw was the always changing form of a ageless being.

After that Danyal would be found outside of a random hospital in America, far from his place of birth, far from his mother and brother, barely hanging as doctors rushed to save this five year olds life. He would awake weeks later, with no memories of his own to speak of, and then one night a strange star plush/pillow would be gifted to him with the name Daniel on it. He would be bounced around foster home to foster home after he was cleared to leave the hospital and the cops had no leads on who or where he came from.

Daniel would eventually meet Jazz at the park and later her parents and worm his way into their hearts, he would later be adopted by them and live a somewhat normal life (as one can be with ghost hunting parents but at least he got Jazz as an older sister, even with Jack and Maddie’s rather unhealthy... obsession with ghosts he knew they loved him)

Ra’s failed second heir was no more, his name and life no longer mentioned in Nanda Parbat, Danyal al Ghul (Wayne) was by all intents and purpose dead to the man and to the League.

Now Daniel “Danny” Fenton lived in his place...

Up until that fateful day when he was fourteen, after that he was only half alive and once again became someone kind of new. A halfa this time. Danny Phantom.

And who would had guessed (not Ra’s that's for sure), he later would become The Ghost King, the Ruler of the Infinite Realm.

So imagine Danny’s surprise when as he had left his house for school one morning, he may be a King but hey he still needed his education according to Jazz (and Clockwork), when he had been ambushed and attacked by some assassins from the League and knocked out... (Shush his own assassin training was rusty and he hadn’t had time to practice them too much, his last major battle had been that all out brawl a week before his coronation with him vs his enemies, fun times. He also rarely got kidnapped since his crowning, half awake due to his Kingly duties and studying for Mr. Lancer’s 70% final grade test (Fun fact I had an actual teacher who did this) that Friday and honestly Danny wasn’t expecting assassins from the League to show up since the whole being pretty much declared dead to them thing)

Only to later slowly wake up on the familiar rough stone ground in Nanda Parbat (the smell, the sounds, the stonework. He often saw them in his dreams and memories but knew it was real this time) his hands bound and his body aching from laying motionless on the hard ground for a while. He put on a confused look on his face as he slowly rose and groaned in pain as he subtly took a moment to look around.

Thank the Ancients Danny still knew how to fake an injury, and play dumb/confused from his time tricking some of the his more annoying ex-enemies? (Skulker, Walker, etc.) even though it had been a year since he last had to do so with them (besides Vlad, he’s still his enemy no matter what and still seemed really salty Danny was a King now and was treated like an outcast by most ghosts, none wanting to be the opposite side of their King so hey perks). It had been a good way to make them drop their guards if they thought Danny was still at his ‘weakest’ when they caught him by surprise. It still pretty funny when Vlad tries though, this act always catches that fruitloop off-guard no matter how many times.

It was a Lazarus Pit room judging by the smell/feel of it at first and later confirmed when he noticed the green toxic ooze nearby. Ugh just being on this side of the Realm and sensing that stuff was disgusting, it wasn’t as bad in the Infinite Realm due to the fresh and clean ectoplasm around it masking most of the bad smell but boy did it reek on this side.

Danny blinked a few times to sell his acting, whispering a confused “Where am I?” under his breath, and looked around before his eyes landed on someone in front of him and flinched back a bit, no acting needed this time.

Ra’s was in the room sitting on a throne chair staring at him with that ever burning hateful glare yet Danny could see another emotion, an emotion he was very used to Vlad having on his fruitloop face. His ex-grandfather had a plan and it was gonna be painful or annoying for Danny to deal with, he knew it...

And...AND was that knocked out Batman and Robin also tied up in chains and guarded by few assassins in the room as well?! WHY IS THAT A THING?!

-x-x-

Heyyyyy so... umm I decided to split it into another part cause it was getting mega long again when all together and I was like roughly halfway done with it and just... I wanted to write out so much, also Tumblr almost made me loose the WIP of this many many times so I’m being careful. Good news almost done with it (and it won’t take as long as this part did promise)

This is basically Danny’s side of things of being King, his inner thoughts, his past relationships with the al Ghul’s, and snippets how he had grown into his King self tbh. Probably didn't need to do this but as an old school writer I wanted to make a base so to speak. The best and fun part is up next. and to prove it, here’s the title and a sneak peek for it.

Summoning a King (Or alternatively: It was at this moment, Ra’s knew he F’d up.)

Yeah as said before it took ALL of Danny’s training not laugh in hysterics. Oh the irony. Sacrificing the Ghost King... to summon the Ghost King.... Danny honestly wanted to say something, the words on his lips being a sarcastic “You sure that's gonna work out for you, you moldy old fruitloop?” but Danny bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from doing so.

TAGLIST:

Also I’m starting a tag list so if anyone wants on it for the next part please let me know asap so I can add you.

[EDIT: Taglist now closed until next update! Sorry!]

@sxnkisses @thenerdycupcake @sealover89 @remydumb @moonscat @fuck-you-too-world @hecate-hollow @ae-vixrose

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms · 2 years

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You Don't Love Me Anymore?

Words: 4139

Warnings: angst, references to sex, breakup, hair long enough to run hand through?

STRANGER THINGS Masterlist Main Masterlist

I almost named this "Like We're In Love?" because of Steve saying it to Nancy in Season 2 and this was lowkey based off of it.

Can be read as a Part 1 for I Still Love You (Part 2) and 1,000 Yellow Daisies (Part 3)

This also was originally written for my OC Drew Henderson (Find info on her/original story on this account @imnotobsessedwfictionalchracters )

I also know that this isn't that well written, it was done on my phone when I was *lowkey* overheating in my moms car while driving to my friends DCI competition last Friday (the 15th)

Steve and other characters are PROBABLY OOC (as I suck at not being able to keep them from being OOC)

Anywho, enjoy

Y/N rolled her eyes at Robin’s comment on the Return to Oz. “Yeah, it was ‘scary’ and ‘off putting’ but that’s what I liked about it Robin.”

“Y/N, the evil-lady literally took her head off. How the hell is that not horrifying enough to not watch the film?”

“Robin, let us remember that I actually enjoyed The Black Cauldron. Unlike the majority of audiences.”

“Sometimes I seriously wonder how you and Steve get along. You two like completely different things it seems like sometimes.”

Y/N glanced over to Steve, who was checking a customer out. “Yeah...so do I.”

“Hey,” Robin’s voice was full of concern, “I know it’s like, none of my business, but are you and Steve okay? Things have seemed tense between the two of you lately.”

Y/N looked back at Robin and shot her a small smile, “Yeah, everything’s fine!”

And she could tell that Robin didn’t believe her by the look on her face, but Y/N chose to ignore it. “Okay, if you’re sure Y/N.”

Y/N nodded, “Yeah, I am.” She looked at her watch and cursed as she saw the time. “Damn, I have to go Robin.” She placed the movie in her hand where it was supposed to go quickly and quickly ran into the break room to clock out for her break. She grabbed her jacket and keys and raced out the door, but as she did, she gave Steve a smile, “I’ll be back in like an hour with Dustin.”

Either he didn’t hear her or he ignored her as he didn’t make any acknowledgement to her comment. She tried to ignore the sting it caused her to feel as she opened the door and ran out, trying not to slip on the snow ridden ground. She ran to her car and unlocked the door, she plugged the key into the ignition to start it. After turning the heat all up, she tossed her jacket off and left the parking lot of Family Video and made her way to the High School.

By the time she finally made it, she was nearly an hour late. She was meant to pick him up between 3:10 and 3:20 and it was nearing 4 o’clock. She groaned as she saw her brother standing with his friends in front of the school. She pulled up in front of them and opened her door, got out, and walked over to them.

“Shut up, shut up, shut up. I know I’m late. I got sidetracked and completely missed the time!.”

“If you would’ve been a few minutes later Elder Henderson, I was going to kidnap your brother.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and Eddie’s comment, “Oh and I’m sure that Dustin would have loved it.” She turned to her brother, “I’m seriously sorry. A bunch of people decided to return their movies today so Robin and I were stalking the shelves.” She gave Mike and Lucas a smile, “You two good? Have a ride home and then to Hellfire?”

“Actually, Nancy’s sick, so could you take me to Hellfire?”

Y/N ran a hand through her hair, slowly becoming aware of the cold air around her. “Yeah, yeah I can. But I can’t take you home beforehand.”

“I don’t mind staying in the back of Family Video!”

She sighed, “As long as you’re sure.”

He nodded, “I am.”

“Then you two get your shit into the car.” She looked at Lucas, “You good, Sinclair?” He gave her a look and she rolled her eyes, “Alright. Follow the other two.” And as he went to put everything in the back she looked at Eddie. “You didn’t have to stay with them.”

Eddie shrugged, “True. But what kind of idol would I be if I did?” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, “Besides, it’s fucking cold outside. Didn’t want them to freeze to death due to someone's negligence.”

“Well that someone has a fucking job.”

He lifted his arms up in defense, “Didn’t mean to upset you.”

She sighed, “You didn’t, Munson.”

“You seem stressed. Everything good? Need anything?”

She rolled her eyes at the last comment. She had already known Eddie before Dustin joined Hellfire. Bought some weed off of him her Junior and what would be his first fail at a Senior year, a few years ago. “I quit that, Munson.” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair, “But I’m good. Just tired and shit. Y’know, the holidays and things.”

Eddie nodded, “Well, need anything, I’m open Henderson.”

She gave him a soft smile, “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” He looked behind her, “Probably should let you go. Don’t kill my protége with your driving.”

She rolled her eyes and she began to walk away from him, “Yeah, I would be killing my brother in a car crash. That is not how I plan on killing him.” She dropped into her car, “See you later, Munson.”

He smiled at her, “See you later Henderson. And you too Henderson, Wheeler, and Sinclair. Don’t be late tonight.”

And on Eddie’s final words, she pressed the gas and drove back to Family Video. She numbly listened to her brother and his friends talk about Hellfire and the end of their recent campaign being tonight. Her thoughts were more focused on what Eddie had said. Was it really that obvious that everything with Steve has stressed her out from hell? But what showed it? She knew that her makeup hid the dark circles that she had gained due to the lack of sleep from worry. And the tear stains weren’t visible because of the makeup, once again. And he hadn’t thought that she had lost much weight from barely being able to eat. But maybe she was wrong. Maybe that was it. Maybe she looked smaller than normal.

She found it funny. She was perfectly healthy. But if Junior year her were to have seen what she looked like and weighed, she would have had a heart attack. Would have said she was ‘overweight’ and that she had to run to the bathroom. It sucked. And it was ironic that Steve was who helped her. He always did. That was how he was. Always helped her when she needed it.

She felt like shit. Just like she did 3 years ago, just before her Sophomore year. When she lost Steve. God did she just hope that this feeling would go away and that she wouldn’t feel this way forever. And that nothing bad was going to happen with her and Steve. That everything would be okay.

But God did she know that would be a lie.

The second she pulled into the parking space she knew she was gonna get yelled at. She went 5 minutes over her break time. But she honestly could care less. She knew full well that they weren’t gonna fire her over that. She made Dustin grab her jacket as she shut her door. When they all entered, she tried to hide the pain when she saw the large smile on Steve’s face when he saw Dustin.

“Henderson!”

“Steve!”

She sighed and walked to the back, but when she went to clock herself back in, she saw that she already had been. She turned back and walked over again. She was going to ask what happened since it was only her, the kids, Steve, and Robin in the store, but she saw the look on Robin’s face. She shot her friend a grateful smile and mouthed ‘thanks’. To where her friend merely shrugged.

She walked over to the kids, “Alright, backroom children. Don’t wanna get in trouble cause of y’all. I get off at 6. So I’ll take you guys back for Hellfire straight after.” She ignored the protests from both her brother and boyfriend and gave Dustin a look that literally told him to listen or else he wouldn’t like what she would do. As the boys exited into the backrooms, she smiled at Steve. “So I was thinking, we get off at the same time, and I’ll have time before I’ll have to pick them up after Hellfire, what if we rented a movie ourself and have a little movie night?” She pushed a strand of hair from her face, “We haven’t done that in a while.” And she tried to keep the pained look from escaping when he flinched away from her hand that was moving to touch his arm. “Steve?”

“I--probably not. I have things that I need to get done when I get home.”

“Oh,” She tried not to sound disappointed, “Right. Yeah. Um...what about Christmas? Are you gonna come over?”

He shrugged, “Maybe. Not really sure.”

She nodded, almost numbly. “Okay...well I’m gonna help Robin finish stocking the films.”

He didn’t even acknowledge her final comment and she just nodded and walked away. She tried to keep the tears in her eyes, but couldn’t help that a few fell as she silently restocked the rows. Thankfully it wasn’t enough to mess with her makeup, but it was still enough that it messed with her mood for the rest of her shift.

But even unknown to her. The three Freshmen sitting in the backroom saw all of that. Lucas turned to Dustin, “Is everything okay between Y/N and Steve?”

Dustin shrugged, “I don’t know. He hasn't been around as much, which really sucks. Plus, she’s rarely on the phone with him, which is weird! I’m used to them being on the phone until mom yells at her to get off of it cause she either needs to use it or it’s getting late.”

“Did they break up?”

Lucas looked at Y/N as she placed the movies on the shelves, “I don’t think so. I mean, y’all know how it was whenever Max and I did. This is different.”

“I love Steve, but if he hurts her, I will not hesitate to murder him.”

And on that note, Lucas and Mike stopped talking about how tense everything between Y/N and Steve were. And for the last hour and a half of her shift, Y/N did all that she could to avoid looking at Steve. She talked to Robin some, but not much. The most she spoke was to a customer asking which movie she should rent for her and her kids to watch over Christmas. Of course Y/N suggested A Christmas Story. That movie had a soft place in her heart. Her, Jonathan, and Nancy took their siblings (plus Lucas) to see it when it came out 2 years ago.

But when she looked at her watch and read that it was 6, she quickly walked into the backroom and clocked out. She didn’t even tell the kids that it was time to go. They just knew from her walking in and grabbing her keys. She waved goodbye to Robin as she exited the store. She unlocked her car and just like it was when she left earlier, she made sure the car warmed up and made her way to the school.

After she dropped her brother and his friends off at the school and made sure they made it inside, she drove home. She noticed the lack of her mothers car in the driveway, signaling that she still wasn’t back from her work trip yet. She sighed as she unlocked the front door and was instantly greeted by the angry meows of Tews. She leaned down and pet the cat affectionately as she shut the door.

She dropped her keys in the key bowl and walked into the kitchen and silently made Tews his supper. One she did that, she walked into her room and shut the door. She clicked the power button on her radio and the sounds of Christmas songs began to fill her room. Currently it was the middle of Christmas Wrapping by The Waitresses. She dropped down onto her bed and buried her head into her pillow.

She had no idea how much time had passed when she heard the shrill ringing of the phone. She groaned and leaned over to grab it. “You’ve reached the Henderson household. This is the daughter Y/N Henderson speaking.”

“Hey, it’s Steve.”

And any inattentiveness quickly faded away and she made sure she was fully listening. “Steve. Babe. Hey. What's up?”

“Could you come over?” His voice sounded slightly desperate.

“Thought you were busy?”

She heard him sigh over the phone, “That was a lie.” She heard shuffling, “So, what do you say? You gonna come over? I just wanna talk.”

Talk. Oh God. He was going to break up with her.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, “Y-yeah. I-I can. Just give me a few and I’ll be over there.”

“Okay. Good. See you in a few.”

“Yeah, see you in a few.” And after a quick second she began, “I love--” But was cut off by the sound of the other line being dead.

She ignored the pain she felt and sat the phone back down on the receiver. She got off her bed and as she exited her room, turned off the radio and the light. She shut the door and walked into the living room. She rolled her eyes at Tews, who was sitting on the couch. And muttered a “Lazy cat.” as she grabbed the keys to her car and her wallet.

So once again, she was waiting for her car to warm up before she left towards the Harrington home. She hummed along to the songs playing on the Radio. She drove extra carefully due to the snow falling from the dark sky onto the already slick road. The normal 10 minute drive turned into a 30 minute one due to her caution.

As she drove up the driveway, Last Christmas by Wham! was playing. Which should have told her enough to just turn back around and not do this. But she ignored it and turned off her car and got out. Immediately cursing herself for not bringing her jacket with her. She quickly ran to the door and knocked. Jumping from left to right in an attempt to not freeze to death.

When the door opened and revealed Steve in the soft blue sweater that she had bought him last year for Christmas she smiled. But not a fake, forced one. A genuine one that she didn’t realize had grown on her face until it was there.

“Y/N, get in here before you die of frostbite.”

She had forgotten how cold she was due to the warmth she was feeling from seeing him. “Oh right.” She slipped past him but stayed near as he shut the door. She placed her keys and wallet on the little table next to the door. She turned back to him and the two stood awkwardly in the foyer.

He coughed, “Wanna go upstairs?” She nodded silently and as he turned to go to the stairs. She instinctively reached for his hand. And this time, when her fingers grazed his skin, he didn’t jolt away. No. In fact, he flicked his hand to slip it into hers. The warmth from her body never fading. Any hint that she was just freezing from just being out in the snow, was gone as her hand laid in his and they walked up the stairs to his room.

Once they made it to his room, she acted out of instinct and sat in his bed. And God had she wished she missed the look that had flashed over Steve’s face. The look of someone who was about to do something incredible stupid. The look that someone would give if they knew that they were going to regret what they were about to do.

But she still ignored the pain in her chest. Screaming at her to leave. Screaming at her that if she stays, she needs to do it first. The warmth that she had felt moments ago, it was still there. But it was slowly fading away and she was struggling to grasp onto it.

And now it was her turn to cough in order to stop the tense and awkward silence. “So what did you wanna talk about, Stevie?”

He sighed, “I don’t think that this,” He motioned back and forth from him to her, “Us, can work anymore.”

She tried to hide the hurt, “What do you mean, Stevie?”

He looked at her desperately, “Please Y/N. I know you’re not dumb. I know you know what I mean.” She refused to look at him now. She dropped her head and stared at her hands. She felt the bed dip and soon saw his hand reaching for hers. She flinched away and ever so slightly moved further away. “YN, please. Say something.”

The tears were threatening to fall from her eyes. “This is bullshit.”

Either he actually didn’t hear her or he needed to hear what she said again since he asked her, “What was that?”

Her voice, barely louder, spoke again. “This is bullshit.”

“What is?”

“You doing this.” She finally looked at him again. “You, pushing me away for weeks on end, calling me that you want to talk. Open the fucking door wearing a different fucking shirt than you were at work. You-you wearing the fucking sweater I bought you for Christmas last year.” She sniffed, “It’s fucking bullshit.”

He looked away. “I’m sorry. I’m just tired of pretending, acting as if we were in love.”

Any resolve she may have had to fix them faded away. That warmth she had clinged to following it. “As if we’re in love?” She stared at him. Hurt, betrayal, and pain was all that could be seen on her face. “You-you don’t love me anymore?” He said nothing. But she knew from the look on his face that he meant it. And she tried as hard as she could to keep her voice from cracking. “How long?” He stayed quiet. “How. Fucking. Long. Steve.?”

And now his own voice was barely above a whisper. “Since around Thanksgiving.”

She nodded. Since their stupid fucking fight. “So you haven’t loved me for nearly a month now?”

“No.”

“No? You haven’t? Has it been longer? Have you never loved me at all?” Once again Steve stayed quiet and she stood up angrily. “Or do you not know?”

“No. I don’t know.” And as she went to walk away he spoke again. “Not that I didn’t love you! I did! I-I did love you! I just don’t know when I stopped.”

She nodded and walked over to his bedroom door. Her hand floated above the doorknob. She turned back to him as the tears finally falling from her eyes. “Fuck you, Steve Harrington.” She opened the door, “Fuck you.” And she slammed it behind her. She ran as fast as she could down the stairs. She went so fast she didn’t even register that she forgot to grab her wallet.

She felt like fate was against her cause the moment her Radio turned on, Wonderful Christmastime by Paul McCartney was playing. The same fucking song had played a year ago when she gave him the fucking sweater he was hearing.

Y/N laid her head on Steve’s shoulder. Their backs against the couch. The sound of Wonderful Christmastime playing in the background. She smiled as Dustin opened the gift she got him. It was a new DnD dice set. One he had been begging their mom to buy him. He smiled at her and attacked her in a hug. She smiled and wrapped her arms around him.

“Now that Dustin got all of his presents.” She turned to Steve, “It’s your turn.”

He smiled, “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

She smiled as she grabbed the small wrapped box. “Yeah, but I wanted to.” She handed it to him and he carefully unwrapped it. Once he got down to the box, he took off the lid and she spoke again. “You mentioned how you needed a new sweater. And I was out with Nance and I saw it and thought you would like it.” She bit her lip nervously, “Do you like it?”

He smiled and kissed her. “I love it babe.” He pulled away from her slightly. He looked around, her eyes ended up following his. Dustin was already on the phone with someone and her mom was asleep. He kissed her again and she smiled into it.

This time when they pulled away, they laid their foreheads against the other. And the words fell out of her mouth before she could even think. “I love you.”

She felt herself biting her lip the second she realized what she had said. He brought his hand up and ran his thumb over her lips, lightly pulling her teeth off of them. “I think,” He looked into her eyes lovingly, “That I love you more, sweetheart.”

She smiled and kissed him again and then whispered against his lips. “I highly doubt it.”

She was confused as she opened her bedroom door. When had she gotten home? She shook her head and went to the phone and dialed the number for the Wheelers.

It rang for a few minutes before she heard Nancy and Mike’s mom’s voice over the phone. “This is Karen Wheeler.”

“Hey Mrs. Wheeler, it’s Y/N. Dustin’s sister.”

“Y/N! Is everything okay? Is Mike alright?”

“Yeah, I-I think so? He was when I dropped him off for Hellfire.”

She heard the elder woman let out a sigh of relief. “Then what do you need dear?”

“I really hate to do this, but do you think you could bring Dustin home when you pick Mike up? I’m not feeling well, I might’ve caught whatever it is that Nancy has.”

“Oh! Of course, dear! Does he have a key?”

“He should.” She sighed, “Thank you so much Mrs. Wheeler.”

“Of course dear. I hope you feel better. And don’t hesitate to call if you need anything. I understand that your mom is out of town.”

“Of course, Mrs. Wheeler.” Y/N ran a hand through her hair. “I’m gonna go now. Probably sleep some. Have a nice night.”

“Yes, get rest. I’ll pick Dustin up and make sure he gets in safely. Get better soon.”

Y/N didn’t even mess with saying anything else and just dropped her phone back down. She didn’t even change and just closed her eyes, falling asleep fully clothed. Completely tired of everything that just happened

Tired that she had basically just wasted the past month hoping that he would get over their stupid fight. Tired that she shouldn’t have ignored her gut. Tired of being tired.

Y/N groaned as she heard a knock on her door. “Y/N!” It was Dustin, “It’s 3! Aka when you were gonna take me to get presents for my friends!”

Her eyes snapped open and she turned her head to glance at her clock. Sure enough Dustin was right. She stumbled out of her bed and opened her door. “Give me like, 30 minutes, got it?”

Before she was able to close her door, he spoke again . “You look like shit.”

“Wonderful observation.”

“Like you’re hungover. Wait, are you hungover? Is that why Mrs. Wheeler picked me up yesterday?! You got drunk?!”

“I did not get drunk, Dustin. I was dealing with my own fucking shit.”

“Like what?”

She sighed, “It’s none of your business, Dustin.”

“What? Was Steve here and you two slept together or something?” She felt the tears prick her eyes when Dustin mentioned Steve’s name. She saw the look of surprise on his face. “Woah! You okay? Did something happen? Are you pregnant or something?” His face turned to one of horror. “Oh please don’t be pregnant. I’m too young to be an Uncle.”

She shook her head and wiped away the tears. “No. I’m not pregnant.” She wished she was. That would be easier to explain than the truth. “Steve um...Steve and I broke up.”

“What?”

“We broke up last night, Dustin. It...it was mutual.”

“Sure as fuck doesn’t seem like it.” He placed a hand on his hip, “I may love Steve, but I’m gonna best his ass for this.”

She laughed at her brother's comment. “It’s okay Dustin. I knew it was coming anyways.” She gave him a small smile, “I’ll go get dressed and then we can go out.”

“No! I’m calling Robin. You two can have a...girls day?”

She laughed again, “Nah. I’d rather spend the day with my little brother.”

His mouth broke out into a large smile, “Really?!”

She nodded, “Really.” She started to shut her door, “Give me an hour, tops.”

“Yeah, yep!”

She smiled as she shut her door. Yeah, she was heartbroken over Steve, but at least she had her brother to cheer her up.

#steve #harrington #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #stranger #things #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #x reader #imagine

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marvelmusing · 1 year

Text

In Another Life

Part Eight

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x Alternate Universe!Reader

Summary: The Winter Fete goes smoothly, a perfect evening followed by a foiled assassination. A few days later, you and Aleksander journey into the Fold.

Warnings: canon level violence, minor character death (not graphic).

My Masterlist • Series Masterlist • Next Part

Music and conversation fills the ballroom of the Little Palace, as noble men and women mingle amongst the Grisha, all decked out in their finery for the Winter Fete.

The people are still buzzing with excitement after Alina’s performance. The power of the stag has given her a new burst of confidence, and you’re glad to see her step into her power.

Aleksander appears behind you, his head tilted down to speak directly into your ear.

“The matter has been dealt with.”

When you had warned Aleksander of an assassination attempt on Alina within the walls of the Little Palace, you know he had been upset. The thought of any of his Grisha not being safe here must be distressing for him. As a result, you had left the issue with Aleksander.

You nod, raising your drink to your lips as you murmur your response.

“Genya and Marie?”

“Both safe and unharmed.”

“Alina?”

“With Fedoyr. He will not leave her side unless she is with either of us.”

“And the perpetrator?”

At one point, you might have thought all your questions would annoy Aleksander, but now you know that he would never look down at you for being prepared.

“In custody. I will see to him later this evening.”

“I’ll join you.” His lips part, as if he’s about to protest. “Please. I want to know if I’m right about his motive.”

Aleksander nods slowly, though you can see the reluctance in his eyes. You wouldn’t be in any danger, but perhaps he doesn’t want you to see him while he interrogates someone. As if that would ever drive you away.

“You look incredible, might I add.” He says in a low voice that has a shiver running down your spine.

Warmth spreads over your cheeks, and you look down at your outfit. You and Genya had collaborated on the design, and you are very pleased with the result. The material is wonderful, and it fits you perfectly.

“I see you’ve brought your summer colours out early for occasion. A bold move.” You tease, referring to his black kefta. The same kefta that he wears every day. He narrows his eyes at you, and you take another drink.

“Your fiancé is approaching.” You nearly choke on your drink in alarm.

“What? Why?”

Once your gaze lands on Vasily, you see that he is indeed heading in your direction, and you turn to Aleksander with wide eyes. The corner of his mouth quirks in amusement as he answers.

“I believe he wants to dance with you.”

You place your glass down on a nearby tray, and begin to fidget with the chunky emerald ring on your finger.

“Oh no.”

Genya had helped to teach you the basics of all the dances that would be held at the Fete, but you’re far from confident. Certainly not confident enough to dance with a Prince - let alone the Crown Prince that you’re engaged to.

“Your Highness.” Aleksander greets him with a bow, and you do the same. Vasily smiles politely at you both.

“Might I steal your assistant from you, General Kirigan?”

“I’m off duty tonight.” You remark, and Aleksander sends a look at you, no doubt reminding you to pretend that you’re enjoying your engagement.

“Then I am most lucky.” Vasily says with a smile that looks incredibly forced. You mirror his smile, and decide to show Aleksander exactly how good you are at pretending.

“I believe I’m the lucky one, Your Highness.” He inclines his head.

“Vasily, please.” He insists. “Would you care to join me for the next dance?”

First name basis already. You are engaged after all, but the two of you have only exchanged a handful of conversations over the last month, which has been quite a relief.

You have the distinct impression that he’s only asking you to dance because of his mother’s insistences. Looking down for a brief moment, you smile and offer him your hand.

“I would love to dance with you, Vasily.”

He takes your hand, leading you through the crowd, and you cast one final look at Aleksander before he disappears from your view.

Vasily leads the dance, and you misstep on a number of occasions, your face burning with embarrassment every time. The conversation isn’t too awkward, despite several pauses as you go through the motions of the dance.

He asks you a few questions about yourself, and your answers don’t require too much thought. Remembering his interest in horse racing, you decide to mention the subject. For the first time, his face lights up, and he explains about his most recent purchase.

You know very little of horses, only what Aleksander has taught you, but you try to follow his explanations as best as possible.

Once you finally get into the flow of it, you think you could enjoy dancing. Only as soon as you start to think that, the music draws to a close.

When you step off the dance floor, the two of you linger beside one another for a long moment. You wonder whether he wants you to stay by his side now. Then someone calls out his name, and he turns in their direction.

Looking back at you for a brief moment, he gestures towards them.

“Please excuse me.” He says. You nod, bowing your head politely.

“Thank you for the dance.”

A slightly apologetic smile tugs at your lips as you remember the small wince on his face when you had accidentally kicked his shin. He takes your hand in his own.

“Have a wonderful evening.” He tells you, rather distractedly, pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles. Then he steps away, melting back into the crowd.

The eyes on you soon find something more interesting to look at, though you still feel the weight of them as you weave through the crowd back to Aleksander.

He smiles softly when he sees you, finishing the last of whatever drink he had secured while you were away.

“How was it?” He asks, and you breathe out a small laugh.

“I’m sure Zoya found it very funny. She’s usually the one I’m tripping over during combat practice.” He frowns slightly as he places his empty glass down.

“Fedoyr told me you were doing well.” Now it’s your turn to frown.

“He must have been exaggerating.”

“Very well then.” He holds his hand out to you, and your brows lift in questioning. “Show me these atrocious skills of yours.”

With a small sigh, you take his hand in yours. There’s no arguing with Aleksander, though if you weren’t in public you might have tried to. But he has a reputation to maintain, and people would question your relationship if you openly defied him in such a manner.

“I can understand why you might have some difficulty dancing with His Royal Highness.” Aleksander muses quietly as he leads you through the crowd.

“Because I’m a poor dancer?” He shakes his head.

“On the contrary.”

Raising a brow at him, you wait for him to elaborate as you take your position on the dance floor. Nerves fill you once again, at the thought of making a fool of yourself two dances in a row.

Aleksander’s hand settles on your waist, pulling you flush against his chest, and you look down quickly to check your feet. He hooks a finger under your chin, raising your eyes to meet his, and the pad of his thumb grazes delicately over your cheekbone. His next words are a low murmur that sends a thrill through you.

“You need to trust your partner.”

Then the music begins.

Aleksander leads, and every step you take is synchronised with his own. Not once do you tread on his toes as you spin around the ballroom in his arms.

With every turn and dip, you find yourself unable to look away from him, or to fight the smile growing on your face as the music sweeps you up.

“Is the Fete living up to your expectations?” He asks you. Your smile widens and you nod.

“It’s more than I ever dreamed of.”

Something softens in his eyes as he spins you around fully. You’re glad Aleksander had asked you to plan the Fete. It had been nice to think about more trivial things, like having the chandeliers polished or commissioning an ice sculpture, rather than tracking down a mythical creature or fighting a war.

There’s a moment of silence, before you decide to bring up what’s been lingering in the back of your mind all day. This is the first time you and Aleksander have truly had the chance to speak with one another today.

“Are you certain Baghra won’t try anything tonight?” Aleksander’s brows crease together for a moment.

“She shouldn’t. But I have my men keeping an eye on her, as a precaution.” You nod.

“I meant to ask you about it before, but with all the preparations going on, it slipped my mind.” He nods in understanding, and you smile almost sheepishly as you add, “I may have created my own contingency plan, just in case.”

The corner of his mouth quirks with the edge of a smirk.

“I’m hardly surprised to hear such a thing.” He spins you, pressing your back flush against his chest for the next few steps. His lips graze your ear as he asks, “What is it?”

Turning your head, your gaze settles on his lips before they drift up to his eyes, and you remember that he had asked you a question.

“Alina will be spending the night with Nadia and Marie. A Winter Fete sleepover. That way Baghra won’t be able to find her, or get her alone, and Alina remains unaware.”

“An excellent idea.” He praises, and your cheeks flush as he spins you back around to face him.

“Thank you.”

There’s a small smile on his lips as he observes your reaction.

“I believe I should also be thanking you.” At that, your brows draw together in a small frown.

“What for?”

“Tonight. You’ve made everything… quite perfect.”

A comfortable warmth settles in your chest, like the glow of the summer sun over your skin, and you watch his expression carefully as you speak your next words.

“I know you don’t particularly enjoy the Fete.” His lips part, as if he’s about to make some sort of excuse. “I can understand why. Grisha are people, not party tricks. You shouldn’t have to prove your value to anyone.”

There’s a moment of silence between you both, where the sounds of the ballroom fill the lack of conversation. Aleksander’s eyes move away from yours as he assures you in a small voice,

“I can’t tell you what that means to me.”

Once his eyes meet yours again, you see the emotion in them, and you’re surprised you don’t stumble over your feet. A soft smile touches your lips, as you respond in an equally low tone.

“I already know.”

Aleksander smiles.

“Of course you do.”

»»---------------------►

Zoya leads you and Aleksander down the rough stone stairs, your footsteps echoing.

“Has he talked?” Aleksander asks her.

“A lot of lies. Ivan’s with him.”

The iron gate swings open with a screech, and you follow the two of them down into the catacombs underneath the Little Palace.

Stone walls encase you, the small space illuminated by a plentiful number of torches, flickering their amber light over the shadows.

Ivan stands straight with his hands folded together, and beside him a man sits tied to a chair. The man has a shimmer of sweat glossing over his features, some bruises already forming on the side of his face, and his clothes are crumpled, evidently from a struggle.

“I’ve been swindled. Hoodwinked.” The man says, his wide eyes looking at each of you as you approach him.

“My guards tell me that they caught you at the scene of an attempted crime.” Aleksander states calmly, his hands resting unclasped on either side of him.

The man opens his mouth, gaping for a moment, his eyes frantic.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shakes his head, stumbling over his words. “I’m an entertainer. Oskar. Oskar Krepkov.”

Aleksander raises a brow at you.

“My assistant here organised every aspect of the Winter Fete. Including the entertainers. Does Mr Krepkov’s name ring a bell?”

Keeping your eyes on the man in front of you, a crease of feigned concentration crosses your face before you respond casually.

“Funnily enough, it doesn’t.”

“How peculiar.” He muses, walking slowly towards the bound man.

Grasping hard onto his forearm, Aleksander pushes the man’s sleeve up to reveal a series of black tally marks tattooed onto his inner arm. Each mark represents a successful trip across the Fold. There’s a startling number of them.

“Well that certainly is entertaining.” Aleksander says, his fingers pressing hard into the man’s skin. “You are the Conductor, Arken Visser, are you not?”

Visser swallows hard, trembling under Aleksander’s gaze. Once Aleksander releases him, he steps away, his jaw tense and his eyes dark with anger.

“You smuggle Grisha out of my palace.” Aleksander snarls furiously.

His frustration is tangible in the air, prickling over your skin. When Visser looks hopefully back at you, whimpering a quiet plea, your resentment rises to the surface and you snap.

“You profit off frightened children and desperate families. Don’t look to me for sympathy.”

If Aleksander is surprised by your outburst, he doesn’t show it.

“Would you like to hear my theory?” You ask lightly, but don’t wait for a response before you continue. “I think, a certain West Ravkan General has ambitions to rule his own country. To do so, the Fold would need to remain intact, which is where you come in, Mr Visser.”

The facade of frightened innocence slowly falls from his face with every word of your accusation. When you finish, Aleksander continues, circling Visser with a dangerous look in his eyes.

“You made a deal with him.” As Aleksander passes Ivan, the heartrender wisely moves out of the way. “You put on a disguise. And you played at being assassin.”

Visser straightens, staring back at you both with a resolute expression as Aleksander returns to his place beside you.

“That’s right.” He says. “Zlatan offered me a million to kill the sun summoner. So, give me half that. I can get close to Zlatan.”

Aleksander turns his head aside, and Zoya unfolds her arms, turning to leave. Ivan pauses for a moment, before he follows her.

For a moment, Aleksander’s eyes meet yours, a mixture of questioning and acceptance lingering there. He’s expecting you to turn away. You remain at his side. As their footsteps recede, Aleksander says quietly,

“No. I think I’ll handle that myself.”

With that, he steps back, turning on his heel, and you do the same. Aleksander brings his hand up, curling his fingers lightly as he calls forth the shadows.

“But I can help.” Visser calls out as the two of you walk away. “Tell me how I can help.”

Aleksander pulls his hands together, cupping his fist for a moment before he releases his right hand. With two fingers pointing upwards, he flicks them back in a tossing motion as he remarks in a low voice.

“You already have.”

Even without looking, you can sense the shadows swarming from the depths of the catacombs, creeping towards Visser. You hear him struggling to break free, panic in his movements, as the shadows lengthen around him.

Aleksander holds the door open for you, as Visser chokes out his final breath in the shadows.

»»---------------------►

“You should rest.” Aleksander insists from where he’s sitting at the head of the makeshift bed in his tent. “We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

You shake your head, continuing to pace beside the foot of the bed. Tomorrow, you journey into the Fold. Hopefully, Alina will be able to fend off any volcra that come for you, but you’re still worried.

“Too much to think about.” You argue, but you still decide to lie down on the bed beside him regardless. Together you stare up at the ceiling for a long moment.

“Are you certain our plan for Zlatan will work?” He asks you. Mulling it over in your mind once again, you nod.

“If he’s coward enough to not risk crossing the Fold himself, a scare tactic like this will be enough to startle him and his followers. It’ll give us a time advantage to gain the upper hand. A show of strength, with limited casualties.”

Aleksander nods along with your reasoning, but you can’t suppress a small sigh as you run a hand over your face.

“I just hope I’m right.”

That isn’t the only thing weighing on your mind, and Aleksander seems to know this. His thumb rubs a slow circle against your bare forearm, that you’ve cast up over your head.

“Are you afraid of the Fold?” He asks softly.

There’s a pause before you admit,

“A little.”

He breathes out a small laugh.

“You don’t have to say only a little to spare my feelings.”

“Are you afraid of it?”

He goes silent at your question, but his thumb doesn’t stop its comforting motion. You wait patiently for whatever response he is considering.

“Did I ever tell Alina about Luda?”

There’s a softness in his voice, making his words feel fragile, and you study his face as you shake your head.

“She was a healer. The only healer we had at the time. There were less than twenty of us, in hiding, together.”

“When was this?” You ask in a near whisper.

“During Anastas’ rule.”

He nods grimly when he sees your expression sadden knowingly. Anastas was the King who placed a bounty on Aleksander’s head, dubbing him the Black Heretic, which eventually led to the creation of the Fold.

“She opened up a clinic, it was only a small cottage in the woods, but she wanted to help people.”

Looking up at Aleksander, you can see how distant his gaze is, lost in his memories.

“Ravka was growing worse for Grisha, day by day. I begged her to join us in hiding and she agreed, albeit reluctantly.”

His eyes darken, and you know the story is about to take a painful turn.

“The King’s guards found us before we could leave. Together, we tried to hold them off but Luda was wounded.” His jaw tenses. “I killed them all. But I couldn’t save her.”

Turning your body over to lie on your stomach and face Aleksander, you take his hand in your own. There’s a small smile on the edge of his lips, but he looks down sadly.

“She died because of me.”

You shake your head, and immediately try to comfort him.

“All you did was try to protect her.”

“And I failed.” There’s a sharpness in his eyes as he lifts his gaze up to meet yours. “I couldn’t stand it any longer. Watching my people die. Seeing them frightened and helpless. My grandfather thought merzost could be used to control people.”

The mention of merzost has your stomach plummeting. You hope that Aleksander will never have to resort to such measures again.

A different version of Aleksander, scarred and pale, exhausted by the creation of shadow monsters, fills your mind. An Aleksander you hope you will never see.

“I faced the King’s army alone, buying the few Grisha left enough time to get away. I tried to bend his army to my will.”

“Instead you created the volcra.” You say in a low voice. “Merzost always comes with a price.”

He nods slowly.

“My price was the Fold. Though I’m not the one who continues to pay for it.”

You can’t imagine how he must feel. Accidentally creating a blight that scars your country for centuries, claiming hundreds of lives. How heavily those losses must weigh on Aleksander’s shoulders.

“Alina never finds out how the Fold was created.” You tell him quietly, your thumb tracing over his knuckles delicately. Aleksander’s eyes are on you, as you watch the movement of your digit. “I think she just believes what Baghra tells her. That you created it in a mad ploy for power.”

“Did you ever believe that?” You shake your head.

“I always thought there was some sort of explanation for it.” Your eyes lift up to meet his. “Thank you for telling me the truth.”

“Thank you for staying to hear it.”

Neither of you speak after that, simply lying beside one another until you both fall asleep.

»»---------------------►

The next morning is bright and cold, despite the first signs of spring arriving. Pulling your cloak tighter around your body, you follow Aleksander and Alina as they walk through the camp at Kribirsk.

All around you, First Army soldiers stop and stare. Some kiss their saint tokens, while others pray openly for your safe passage. You don’t believe in the saints, but a small part of you hopes that prayers still carry some weight.

The rest of the passengers have already boarded the skiff, so the moment you set foot onto the deck, the final preparations are made. Alina stands at the head of the bow, staring the Fold head on with Mal at her side.

“Are you ready?” Aleksander asks you, coming to a stop at your side.

“I think so.”

He turns his head, looking up at Zoya. With a simple nod, he orders her to move the skiff. A breeze ruffles your hair as she calls forth the wind to fill the sails. The skiff moves forward, plowing resolutely towards the Fold.

No turning back now.

The darkness engulfs your vision, and without thinking you reach blindly for Aleksander. Even in the pitch black, you find him. His hand is warm, and he provides you with a comforting squeeze as his fingers curl tightly around yours.

Your eyes adjust slowly to the darkness, and the light of the blue lantern at the centre of the skiff provides you with some assistance.

As each second passes by, you grow more and more nervous. Alina’s hands remain at her sides, and the volcra cry out in the distance. Sickening screeches, that you’ve only ever heard in your nightmares.

“What are we waiting for?” You ask in a whisper.

Aleksander turns his head to look at the ambassadors and dignitaries assembled behind you. They shift nervously, looking around for any sign of movement lurking in the darkness.

“Building the anticipation.”

“As well as my stress levels.” You mutter, and Aleksander dips his head down to respond with amusement in his voice.

“Don’t worry, Ivan will keep an eye on your heart.”

How can he be joking at a time like this? Then he nods at Alina, and she casts her arms out.

Light blossoms out from within her, illuminating the deck of the skiff, and you breathe a sigh of relief. She channels her power into a long pathway, lighting the way for Zoya to guide the skiff onwards through the Fold.

In the distance you can see a bright dot of sunlight - Novokribirsk.

The sight of it brings some of your nerves back, as you remember what is to come - the rest of your plan.

Volcra continue to scream from within the Fold, and at one point a crooked talon reaches through the barrier of light, though it retreats with a whimper as the sun scorches its rotten skin.

The passengers seem much more at ease, and some even move to the side of the skiff to stare into the Fold.

Before you know it, you’ve reached the edge of the Fold, and the port at Novokribirsk is visible over the stretch of sand that covers the distance between you and Zlatan’s men waiting to ambush you. As Aleksander had ordered her previously, Zoya brings the skiff to a stop.

At your request, Aleksander had informed the Grisha about your plan. If things went awry, you wanted everyone to be on the same page - knowing that Zlatan is the enemy not Aleksander.

“One more demonstration.” Aleksander calls out, and the people behind you stare with a mixture of curiosity and confusion.

In the book, Aleksander uses Alina’s power to push the Fold outwards. Because of you, he doesn’t have access to Alina’s power. But you still have hope.

In theory, Alina’s light has carved out a space within the Fold. That darkness still exists, her light has only moved it, and you’re hoping that Aleksander has the strength to redirect the darkness towards Novokribirsk.

There’s a small familiar rumble, as Aleksander begins to summon the shadows.

“You’ve all seen what the sun summoner can do. Now bear witness to what I can do, now that the Fold is ours to control.”

He brings his hands together.

A frightening storm of darkness surges forward, heading towards the town. Even from this distance, you can see people running away in terror. With any luck, Zlatan will be one of them.

Aleksander’s brows are furrowed in concentration, and for a brief moment you worry that he might not stop. Then he drops his hands. The darkness halts in its wake, skirting the edge of the docks.

Silence falls.

The Grisha and soldiers surrounding you grin wildly, shock and delight filling their faces. Ravka is no longer a deadbeat country, fighting wars it can never hope of winning. For the first time, in a long time, the people have hope.

Aleksander turns to the ambassadors.

“Take what you have seen back to your own countries. Tell the Shu Han. Tell the Fjerdans. The Fold is no longer the burden it once was for Ravka. We are entering a new age.”

You’re reminded of something Aleksander should have said to Alina, when they had journeyed to Os Alta at the beginning of the book. The age of Grisha power is coming to an end.

Aleksander looks back at you with triumph shining in his eyes.

The age of Grisha power has only just begun.

»»---------------------►

marvelmusing Tag List: @dreamlandcreations @blanchedelioncourt @idaofinfinity @slytherheign @ellooo0ooo @vixenofcourse

In Another Life Tag List: @parabatai-winchester @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @jambolska-grozdova @mxacegrey @budugu @cynthianokamaria @scarlettqueen190 @eloquentree @sharp-cheekbones-locked @sorrow-and-bliss @biblophilefox82 @tartiflvtte @rainbowgoblinfan

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BB Characters Tag List: @rachlovesactors @noortsshift @aikeia

#in another life au #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling x you #the darkling x y/n #the darkling au #shadow and bone #shadow and bone au #shadow and bone x reader #in another life chapters

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zwy01 · 3 months

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Blood Moon AU!! Part 1 - Nobles

Time for a second major AU yayy!! I’m still working on Millennium AU as usual, though I want to get started on another one that’s been on my mind since years ago but never really got the chance to put on paper.

So here we are. I’m calling this Blood Moon AU. The nobles and werewolves basically have a race swap in an almost brand new setting. Lukedonia and werewolf island still exist; it’s the characters that have changed.

All characters reference their canon counterparts to various degrees. Some are similar or even near identical to the original, while some are vastly different. This could apply to names, looks, personalities, heritage/family, moral alignment… etc. It’s gonna be fun! I’m going to let myself get crazy with this and change things up quite a bit, haha.

As for the story. To be completely honest, at this point I just want to start off this new AU as more of a simple artistic approach. Right now I’m much more interested in designing and drawing the characters rather than writing the story itself. Maybe I’ll come up with something much later but it won’t be nearly as complicated as Millennium AU, and it’ll be fairly straightforward. Even then, I don’t want to rush it so that’s for the future. If I end up liking this new AU more than I do right now, maybe I’ll give the story an honest shot and turn it into more of a long-term project, but time will tell.

(Fyi “Noblesse” does not exist in the world. Too early for details but they either never existed, are a now permanently extinct special type of noble, or they simply peaced out and ditched Earth and returned to their special heavenly realm… etc. Honestly doesn’t matter. In this AU’s setting, they are absent. “Raizel” and his brother do exist but they’re both human. Actual normal human beings, with a normal life, currently students at a normal high school, stuff like that. Just your average human. The trio are also unmodified normal human beings. They are scattered across the world and never meet each other. Basically, unlike their canon counterparts, their existence is minimal and contribute to almost nothing in this universe. It’s weird, I know! That’s just how this AU is set up)

I’m going to split the noble and werewolf characters into two parts. Doing the (originally werewolves) nobles first! Posting the werewolves in a future post aka. part 2.

The characters!

Lucretia Natalina “Lunark” Drosia: Leader of the Drosia Clan. Kendrick’s twin, and on-and-off lovers with Julius. A rather carefree woman who is primarily interested in having fun, and shows little to no concern for the future of Lukedonia as a whole. When it comes to her people, she is a decent Clan Leader and manages her family efficiently. Lucretia’s efforts only apply to her clan, and her interests in other noble affairs are almost nonexistent. She has a habit of ditching meetings and whatnots. Sometimes, she even tries to ignore the Lord’s summons but ends up going anyway because her lovely daughter makes her show up. The only thing that can get Lucretia’s blood pumping with true passion is an offer to spar. Lucretia is an excellent fighter. People have to be very careful to not interrupt her fights unless they want to unleash her wrath, because she hates it when people invite themselves into her business. She also likes to flirt with her opponents during spars. Lucretia has a bit of a weird relationship with Julius, who is the father of her daughter. They seem to have positive feelings for each other, but that’s only when both of them are very bored and have nothing better to do.

Kendrick Tian-Chen “Kentas” Ru: Leader of the Ru Clan. Lucretia’s twin. A prideful, stubborn man who believes that the stronger should rule the weak. Like his sister Lucretia, he likes to fight and enjoys a good spar. Sometimes, people can choose to settle a quarrel with Kendrick by offering to spar with him and he would gladly accept. You can trust him, because he’s a man of his word. No more grudges, no hurt feelings. Done. In a way, he’s quite simple. Unlike his sister, Kendrick does care about the future of Lukedonia. He has a strong moral code of his own, but that can be overridden by his belief of submitting to the strong. That is why Kendrick is extremely loyal to their Lord and never questions him even if the latter makes some controversial decisions. As of now, Kendrick has no children.

Marcus Duruvan “Maduke” Siriana: Leader of the Siriana Clan. Erica’s older brother, and the Lord’s advisor. The only person who truly has everyone’s best interests at heart. You can say he’s the most “good person” leaning guy in this entire AU. Marcus is quite worried about the future under their Lord’s reign. Life is pretty comfortable inside Lukedonia, which is by itself very isolated from the rest of the world. However, Marcus foresees the destruction of planet earth if no one stops the Lord, since the latter doesn’t care about other races and is only concerned with the prosperity of nobles. Though, he doesn’t want to overthrow the Lord and instead wants to convince him to step away from his current path of darkness. He believes there is still hope. Simultaneously, Marcus is secretly gathering followers and supporters who all share his beliefs and formed his own organization. Together they work to transport resources out of Lukedonia and deliver them to humans and werewolves in need because the Lord refuses the share.

Marcus is struggling to plan for the future of the Siriana Clan, in case the Lord gets tired of him and decides to kill him one day for “meddling” too much, because his younger sister Erica is insane and cruel which makes her the worst possible candidate for the next Clan Leader of Siriana. Marcus loves her, but also fears her. He doesn’t know what she is capable of. Marcus is trying to look for ways to bypass his sister and hopefully be able to hand over both his position and Soul Weapon to another pure-blooded Siriana who isn’t his sister.

Marcus had a son, but he was assassinated sometime after his coming-of-age ceremony and now Marcus is once again childless and without an heir. To this day no one can figure out who the culprit is.

Erica Siriana: Marcus’ younger sister, and next-in-line for the position of Siriana Clan Leader. Wife of Lord Maximilian, and mother of Ashlynn. Erica is a ruthless, bloodthirsty woman. She is actually the person who orchestrated her nephew’s assassination. She made sure he was killed, then got rid of his killers, whom she sent, with her own hands. No one is going to suspect a thing and they’ll never find out no matter how hard they try. Erica did this to eliminate brother Marcus’ heir so she can regain her position as first-in-line. She’s been after her nephew ever since he was born, but waited for two whole centuries before doing the deed. To Erica, she’s just getting back what she’s entitled to, which is the full power, control, and privileges of a Clan Leader. Marcus is trying to be discreet but if Erica ever finds out that her brother intends to bypass her and give his position and Soul Weapon to someone else, she might actually just kill him and take over the clan immediately. Erica is truly a terrifying, power-hungry woman who will do anything to reach her goals. She does not care for anyone aside from her daughter Ashlynn and husband Maximilian, whom she genuinely loves. As messed up as Erica is, she is capable of being very loving and committed to whom she treasures. She and her husband are absolutely addicted to each other and he would let her do anything her heart wishes for, even if she continuously breaks Lukedonian laws.

Vivienne Branwen Di Ashlynn: Name means “lively and blessed raven of dreams”. Daughter of Erica Siriana and Lord Maximilian, and the next Lord of Lukedonia. On the surface, Ashlynn isn’t as straightforward as her mother despite their similarities. Ashlynn is just as ruthless and bloodthirsty as Erica, but the former puts on a facade in front of her people and pretends to be a sweet, altruistic future Lord. The perfect angel princess. And she’s very successful at it. Ashlynn is energetic, talkative, and empathetic around her subjects. She always tells them about how she wants her father to teach her power so she can protect not only her subjects, but also people around the world so they don’t have to suffer from hunger and war. In reality, she doesn’t care about any of them and she honestly thinks of them as a burden. They’re nothing more than cockroaches to her, and she’s only doing this because she enjoys deceiving her people and pulling on their puppet strings. She welcomes the love and respect they give her, and at the same time pities them for not knowing better, for she’s had them fooled this entire time. The world is her stage, and she’s the center. Ashlynn only drops her act and returns to her true self around her parents, who not only tolerate, but also accept and even encourage their daughter’s behavior. Well, their entire family is insane. Erica and Maximilian are totally overindulging Ashlynn while being completely aware of the fact that she is just as insane as them with no attempt to correct her, because she’s their little princess and hey, if she wants the world, then they’ll give it to her. Like Erica, Ashlynn doesn’t care about anyone who isn’t her family. Ashlynn loves both of her parents to the moon and back, and she might as well kill anyone who dares to speak ill about either of them. No one is allowed to disrespect them in front of her. Not a single word.

Ashlynn has a crush on Dominic and wants him for herself one day.

Eutimio Friedrich Di Maximilian: Name means “good-spirited and peaceful ruler of the greatest”. The current Lord, husband of Erica Siriana, and father of Ashlynn. Maximilian firmly believes that nobles are the most supreme beings to exist on this planet, and that they have a right to rule over every other species. Humans, werewolves, whatever… well, for now he’ll let them be for as long as they’re still useful. He won’t hesitate to unleash his power on them if he loses his patience. From a world view, Maximilian would be categorized as “evil”, but he doesn’t think of himself as such. In fact, he believes that he is doing good for his people, who are his priority. Which is true from a certain perspective, especially to the nobles who share their Lord’s vision. To them, Lord Maximilian is the greatest Lord in all of noble history. To others who strongly disagree with him, he is the most terrifying and coldblooded Lord in existence. Maximilian is only concerned with the prosperity of Lukedonia and doesn’t quite welcome the idea of distributing resources with the rest of the world. He doesn’t want the nobles to simply exist alongside other species; he’ll make sure the nobles are on the very top of the food chain. Everyone else is irrelevant and they’re all at his mercy. Generally, opinions are very divided and you either side with him, or you don’t. Life is very, very comfortable inside Lukedonia, and indeed, to some nobles, that is all they care about. Those with more empathy see beyond the obvious and are concerned with what goes on outside Lukedonia. The thing with Maximilian is that despite showing neither mercy nor any sign of remorse for his deeds in the outside world, he is actually quite lenient and loving with his subjects. You can say he has two extreme sides to him. He’s very kind to his nobles, but only them. He doesn’t mind if Lucretia skips meetings; he’d let her be. Or when his servants make mistakes, when someone does something offensive, etc... it’s alright, no big deal. In a way, Maximilian’s Lukedonia is teeming with freedom like never before under the rule of his predecessors. This is where Marcus comes in. He is just nervous and overthinking about getting killed if he says the wrong thing, but in reality Maximilian doesn’t mind voices of objection. He’s not going to give anyone a treason sentence or kill them for saying what they really think of him. You can tell him you disagree with him, he’ll just shrug it off and laugh. Say all you want, he knows you’re trying to persuade him, he doesn’t care. He’ll just keep doing what he’s always been doing. Maximilian knows he’s the Lord, and ultimately it is his decision to make. Just don’t let Ashlynn know, because she’ll come after your head if she figures out that you had doubts about her precious Daddy.

Maximilian is a very loving husband and father to his family. He is obsessed with them just as much as they are obsessed with him. On a personal level, while Maximilian himself doesn’t crave for the blood of his own kind like his wife and daughter do, he doesn’t mind letting them do whatever they want for the funs and thrills. Erica and Ashlynn are free to break the law all they want. Though, they’re smart and strategic with it and don’t commit murder in broad daylight. Still, Maximilian is aware of his beloveds’ occasional killings, and he lets them be. He’s the type of person who would let them burn down the entirety of Lukedonia to nothing more than a pile of ash if that is what they wish to do. It’s no big deal, he’ll just rebuild Lukedonia to be even grander and more luxurious than before! To Maximilian, they are the only two existences in this world to come before Lukedonia. How sweet.

Zivon Tradio: Leader of the Tradio Clan. An elderly sorcerer who is quite the hard worker, and spends most of his time studying existing spells as well as coming up with new ones. He’s from the previous generation of nobles, and he stayed behind because he’s just too damn cool to die. Just kidding, his love for magic is why he’s still rocking it. It’s still too early! Zivon’s ultimate goal is to push the boundaries of noble magic and to create what has never been seen before. A true spectacle to behold. Zivon is one of Lord Maximilian’s favorite subjects and the latter even has an entire wifi system built and set up in Lukedonia as a gift just because the former has the hobby of streaming and likes being an “influencer”or whatever the humans call it. Zivon is quite an internet celebrity and Lord Maximilian is supportive of his work of “spreading superior noble influence over humans”. Zivon is also Princess Ashlynn’s tutor, who calls him “teacher”.

As of now, Zivon has no children.

Julius Loyard: Leader of the Loyard Clan. On-and-off lovers with Lucretia. An elegant man who is well-received by his fellow nobles. Julius is a man of few words and usually doesn’t express himself beyond the bare minimum required to be polite. While Julius does admit to enjoying the lavish lifestyle that was a gift from the Lord to all nobles, he is beginning to see why this is a problem for beings outside Lukedonia and starts to sympathize with them. It isn’t easy for him immediately to give up what he’s been used to all these years, but he’s starting to steer away from that lifestyle in support of the less fortunate. Julius was one of the first members to join Marcus’ secret organization of smuggling resources out of Lukedonia to help those in need. Currently, he’s responsible as the leader of the food distribution sector. In his free time, Julius is a jewelry designer and Lord Maximilian is a fan of his work.

Julius’ heir is his son whom he had with Lucretia. He is fond of her but doesn’t entirely agree with her rather carefree personality. They seem to have positive feelings for each other, but that’s only when both of them are very bored and have nothing better to do.

Giada Agvain: Leader of the Agvain Clan. Like Kendrick, she is extremely loyal to their Lord. She’s been by his side since the beginning, and they are childhood friends. Everyone knows that Giada used to feel one-sided love for the then-Maximilian and now Lord Maximilian, but what they don’t know is that she is still in love with him. Well, maybe it’s better for them to continue to believe that she has gotten over him. It’s not like he’ll ever like her back anyway, and you’ll never know what Princess Ashlynn will do if she finds out that anyone other than her precious Mommy is “coveting” her beloved Daddy. Giada is one of the few people who knows about Ashlynn’s true nature despite the latter’s angelic facade. While Giada does love Max on a personal level and is loyal to him, she doesn’t agree with his actions. She is also one of the first members of Marcus’ organization. Currently, Giada is responsible as the leader of the money distribution sector. In her free time, Giada tends to a small spider lily garden.

Giada’s heir is her daughter whom she had with an unnamed noble woman.

Dominic Raffaello “Dorant” Blerster: Leader of the Blerster Clan. A calm and rational man who remains unfazed in extreme situations. He is also the youngest to become Clan Leader, because his mother and predecessor saw so much potential in him, she passed over her title and Soul Weapon to him as soon as he came of age. Dominic pretends to be fairly neutral, and most people think he isn’t dedicated to anything or anyone, but he’s actually Lord Maximilian’s right hand man in the shadows. On the surface, he is simply Clan Leader of the Blersters and does a good job of managing his clan. When he no longer needs to act as Clan Leader, Dominic goes to the castle and reports everyone’s moves to his Lord. Dominic is actually a member of Marcus’ secret organization and oversees the medical distribution sector… as a double agent. His allegiance is with the Lord and he’s only there to watch what everyone else is doing to report back to his master. That includes a long list of who is working with Marcus, what resources they have been smuggling out of Lukedonia, who is on the receiving end… etc. Every. Single. One. So Lord Maximilian is very much aware of Marcus’ “betrayal” thanks to Dominic. Curiously, Lord Maximilian tells Dominic to just let them be. Perhaps he finds this to be amusing. Nobody knows what he’s thinking. Dominic, on the other hand, is in total awe of his Lord for his immense generosity for the “traitors” even though they clearly don’t deserve it.

Dominic doesn’t know that Ashlynn has a crush on him.

As of now, Dominic has no children.

Undine Mergas: Daughter of the leader of the Mergas Clan. A woman with a short temper who is also easily provoked. Undine’s father, the current Mergas Clan Leader, believes that she is unfit to become Clan Leader due to her personality and tendencies to boss the knights around instead of being a responsible and respectful leader like she is supposed to, but he is hopeful that she will change one day. Undine is best friends with Mimi and the two of them are almost always seen together. On one of her travels to the outside world, Undine met a human named Michael Travis Osborn by chance and she has had a crush on him ever since. He’s pretty cute. Maybe the Lord will let her capture him and bring him back to Lukedonia, she thinks.

Mimi Elenor: Daughter of the leader of the Elenor Clan. A woman with a similar personality to her best friend Undine, but less impulsive and more calm. That’s why they get along and are best friends because they have much in common. Mimi has an older brother so she likely won’t become the next Elenor Clan Leader, but she’s fine with that. In fact, she’s glad she won’t become Clan Leader because all those responsibilities, hassles, sitting in meetings all day, blah blah blah… ew, just too much work. She just wants to have fun, so her brother better be competent so she won’t have to bother with her clan at all. Mimi, like Undine, also has a crush on Michael Travis Osborn. They chat about how cute he is. Both of them want to capture him and bring him into Lukedonia. They’re thinking about discussing this with the Lord. If Lord Maximilian hears about this, he’d approve of the capture and tell them to go ahead and enjoy themselves because of course he wants all of his nobles to get their hands on everything they wish for. Plus, these two remind him of his daughter Ashlynn so he’d be even more generous towards them.

Kushaal Kertia: Leader of the Kertia Clan. Cousin of Galileo. A respected fighter known for his immense speed and agility even amongst the Kertia. Kushaal is also honorable. He dislikes dirty fighting and is fairly open to acknowledging his own weaknesses and strives to become even stronger and faster. He has heard about a certain blonde werewolf warrior who is the fastest of his pack, and wishes to fight him one day. While Kushaal enjoys and supports the luxurious lifestyle given to him by their Lord, he believes that humans and werewolves could use some help from Lukedonia. After all, if they’re all gone, he’s not going to have anyone interesting to fight with anymore. Kushaal would love to spar with the werewolves, so he hopes that they’re doing well. In his free time, Kushaal likes to collect rare werewolf artifacts to display in his home because they feel familiar to him, for some odd reason.

As of now, Kushaal has no children.

Galileo Kravei: Son of the leader of the Kravei Clan. Cousin of Kushaal. A man who has a bit of an inferiority complex because his abilities seem to have hit a wall, and he can’t get stronger with his own strength. Galileo is probably going to get by just fine, even though he himself is more impatient than anyone in terms of wanting to gain strength. Other than that, no one really knows much about him since he tends to keep to himself. In his free time, he plays with his three supernatural pet aquatic snakes: Ramen, Ramyeon, and Lamien. Galileo has a huge love-hate crush on Kendrick, and people will tell you he’s both extra mean and extra nice to him. He sends him cheesy “let’s fight” love letters written on rose scented paper. Yeah. He’s totally in love.

And that’s it for now!

Again, very open to questions and discussion. Quite happy about my second major AU! While this post only touches the surface of what I have in mind, I have a feeling that I will grow to like this AU even more. Maybe I’ll even create brand new OCs specific to this AU lol.

Thank you for reading and stay tuned for future posts!

#noblesse #manhwa #myart #fanart #kori’s blood moon au #alternate universe #lunark #kentas #maduke #erin #muzaka #zaiga #ashleen #juraki #garda #dorant #gayare #kuharu #urne #mirai

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pinktom · 5 months

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Hi, what do you think about the recent rise of tomarry haters who ship bellamort?

I have a feeling this one won’t go over as well as my anti-Tomione post.

However, what the server wants, the server gets. 🐍

If you like Bellamort, if you will be offended by opinions that are anti-Bellamort, do not expand this post.

I am not putting this in the tags; I am not shoving this in anyone’s face. Don't click it. Don't send me pissy anons about it. Unfollow me and move on.

Background context

First of all: a concession. I know every Voldemort-related passage in Harry Potter like the back of my hand. If you don’t think Bellamort can be found in the subtext, you’re either biased or due for another close reading. Unlike Tomione (which almost always depends on a complete fabrication of their personalities) and Tomarry (which requires a significant tone shift from the books), you can easily write Bellamort as an extension of canon.

I don’t hate Bellamort because it’s nonsense. I hate it because it is not nonsense; it feels very real. Voldemort’s and Bellatrix’s relationship, in the canon text, is that of Master and Servant—and for me personally, any such dynamic between a man and a woman is disgusting and I have absolutely no desire to read it.

Here's some specific icks it gives me.

Fanon Bellatrix is bullshit; her real form is repulsive, whiny, and pitiful

There’s this common fanon misconstruction of Bellatrix that portrays her as a thoughtful femme fatale who enjoys a close, intimate relationship to Voldemort on nearly equal terms. I find this tacky at best.

Really, Bellatrix is a pathetic, sniveling wimp who would crawl around on her hands and knees and bark like a dog if Voldemort asked her to do so. She’s not strong; she’s weak-willed and pathetic. She's the kind of pathetic woman who accompanies a man on his killing spree and kills her own kids for said man’s affection.

This passage from Order of the Phoenix pretty concisely captures their dynamic.

Also, Tomarrymort writers love to make her past love of Voldemort and (*pukes*) it makes my tummy ache

Ever find yourself reading a fascinating Tomarry fic only for—midway in—Voldemort to reveal his true love is Bellatrix?* Or wax poetic about how beautiful she is, how special to him she is?

It's 2024. I immediately close the fic when this happens. If I’m reading a Tomarrymort fic, I don’t give a fuck about Voldemort’s past domestic abuse trysts with the most spineless woman in the entire HP series.

And the kicker is . . . for what? Because Bellatrix proved herself to Voldemort by licking his boot and wiping his asshole? Please do not try and convince me she is a sinister spooky gal, she plainly isn’t. She’s an embarrassing blithering pissant who does not foil any of Voldemort’s traits.

And PLEASE do not try and convince me she offers Voldemort something Harry doesn't in terms of being an equal partner or someone he respects, because I cannot fathom how the woman who squeals "MASTER MASTER PLEASE I'M SORRY DON'T HURT ME - I'll wash your anus with my tongue, PLEASE master!" is somehow more respectable than brave, upright, dignified Harry.

*I’m NOT referring to a specific fic. I have been in this fandom since 2011, and I have read it dozens of times, on FF and AO3 alike.

Lastly - they're not a pretty picture

I'm just going to say it... you know those people you kinda knew in high school who now post about their kinky sex life on Facebook? The girl who posts "Daddy 🥺 ?" and the dude responds "Yes, kitten?" in the comments? The chick who has no shame in posting her wolf-tail butt plug or joining a bunch of kinkster groups?

The girl who later ends up getting the shit beaten out of her by said repulsive scrote (no shock) and posting about it on Facebook only to repeat the cycle again and again?

That's literally what Bellamort makes me think about. It's not even like it's deeply upsetting so much as it's disappointing: A reminder of the lowest very promising, very beautiful women can get for men who ought to be curb-stomped and thrown in a ditch.

Tbh the best ending for Bellatrix in canon would've been if she disemboweled and slaughtered Voldemort for ruining her fucking life with his ridiculous tacky cult. He's my baby, but he's a vile scrote first, and I wish Bellatrix had realized what a toxic, life-draining narcissistic psychopathic moron he was. But alas, she too was a pathetic worm.

#anti bellamort #shipping wars #server #asks #i have covid and i'm really mean rn #tw domestic abuse #tw brutally mean #tw anti men hate speech

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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animeyanderetalker · 3 months

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Not including either Chrollo or Hisoka, which Phantom Troupe member(s) do you believe to have the highest probability of being yandere, and which ones do you think could have a healthy relationship. At least, as healthy as you can get when at least one of the people involved is a remorseless criminal.

I’m only counting in the Phantom Troupe members that were introduced in Yorknew City Arc.

High probability to turn Yandere if they gain feelings for someone:

I think her short-term memory loss would be quite interesting to consider because imagine Shizuku not forgetting anything that is related to you. Since you are one of the few things that can stay on her mind, she would think nearly all day long about you because of the limited amount of people she can actually memorize. She’s quite airheaded so she probably won’t even realize for a while her feelings for you but other members can pinpoint that you must be special because Shizuku is able to remember you. Her forgetfulness is what makes her quite dangerous though because it sometimes feels like she is selectively forgetting stuff that would be unpleasant to remember. If you have already a partner for example, she’ll have it forgotten within a few minutes already and would kill them as soon as she sees them displaying affection to you because they’re a stranger to you. If we wanna crank it up even more just imagine how frightening it would be if she at one point conjures up memories that aren’t even real and starts believing that she is your girlfriend.

In a way I can see Shalnark being a similar case as Chrollo. Shalnark is one of the most cold-hearted individuals of the Phantom Troupe. This is a man who rarely loses his composure and refers to the people he uses as toys. So actually caring about someone in a sincere way is a new experience but an exciting one nevertheless that would capture Shalnark’s attention completely and make him quite obsessive over you. He’s going to be such an online stalker who has hacked all of your accounts and has managed to be able to permanently track you down. Shalnark just needs to know everything about you, he needs to know what it is that makes him feel this way about you and he doesn’t care about controlling people to his own advantage to get to know you better. What is posted online is eternal so Shalnark wouldn’t even be above digging up dirty secrets or artificially creating false comments or videos to blackmail the people around you or you yourself.

“Healthiest” relationship:

I’m not going to claim that this women won’t put a bullet in someone’s head if they’re messing with her darling or the relationship but she is reasonable enough to do her best to keep her life away from you. Pakunoda is loyal to death to the people she cares about and besides the Phantom Troupe that would also be the person she has fallen in love with if that would happen. She’s grown up in Meteor City and her past has been filled with hardships and her current life is still filled with danger. So if her darling just happens to be a normal person, she’s just going to be happy for them. It isn’t like she regrets the life she has right now because doing so wouldn’t change anything anyways but if you at least have the possibility to lead a normal life, she sees no reason to hinder you from doing so. Instead she is going to be quite supportive for as long as you don’t do anything that would put your life in danger and will do her best to separate the life she has with you from the life she leads as a Phantom Troupe member.

Nobunaga is usually quite relaxed and laid-back if the circumstances allow him to do so that can be translated to a relationship as well. Now, just like Pakunoda he is also going to be protective and is fully capable of slashing someone with his sword but he isn’t someone who is plainly sadistic like Feitan nor loves a good fight like Uvogin. He’s just going to vibe with his darling in their daily life and he sees nothing wrong in doing so. The fact that you are just a plain person with no Nen abilities or sadistic tendencies is such a fresh breath of air for a man who is normally surrounded by desensitized criminals. Obviously he is no hypocrite, he knows that he is one of them too but you don’t have to know that and you shouldn’t have to know that either. He just wants to enjoy the time he can spend with you when he isn’t with the Phantom Troupe without you knowing who he is and what he does.

#a talks #yandere thoughts #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere hxh

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risingscorchingsuns · 15 days

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Hi Leon!! It’s princeblue but my main acc!! Dropping into ask what you think Genya’s and kyojurous, and maybe even senjurou’s dynamic would be like? You said you interested in being moots sooo I’m taking an opportunity to have a convo hehe

omg hello!!!! thank u for sending this i literally have no idea how to start conversations lmaoo

i think it depends on how much they know about each other/where Genya is in his character development! there’s a LOT of factors here so im gonna try and turn it into a formula because that’s my favorite analysis format lol

i don’t know if this is going to make any sense because I don’t know how to do actual math but breaking things into variables makes it easier to sort them in my brain

let’s say K = kyojuro and G = genya. x = how much kyojuro knows about genya, and y = how much genya knows about kyo. a = pre-tanjiro genya and b = post-tanjiro genya. (i assume this would make a difference bc tanjiro makes him less aggressive lol.) Going to leave Senjuro out for now because that’s too many variables for a post that I don’t plan to cross-reference 💀

There’s also the fact that canonically, post-Tanjiro Genya would never meet Kyojuro, but I didn’t think about that until I was nearly done with this post so I’ll leave that variable in as a hypothetical. aG in this scenario can be a control group I guess lol

let’s take (K)x + (aG)y as a base formula, and solve for the dynamic there. assuming x is “Kyojuro knows nothing except Genya’s last name”, and y is “Genya knows Kyojuro as a Hashira and nothing else”, it’s safe to say their dynamic would be mostly professional. Kyojuro, knowing Genya’s last name, would no doubt link him to Sanemi. But Sanemi fervently denies having any siblings, so Kyojuro would likely try to probe Genya for info, due to his brotherly instinct. He’d want to know if something was wrong, so he could help if possible. Assuming we’re dealing with aG, Genya would shirk away the questions, and Kyojuro would back off out of respect. I don’t think Genya would be too rude about it due to Kyojuro being a Hashira, but definitely a bit more irritable and snarky than bG would be.

bG would feel hurt at the mention of Sanemi, but I believe he’d be more open to talking about it. If Genya opens up to Kyojuro, I think they have high potential to form a brotherly relationship given enough time. Kyojuro would feel protective of Genya, and, whether consciously or not, may link him to Senjuro and begin to act brotherly and/or protective of him as well. If Kyojuro knows that Genya eats demons to make himself stronger at the cost of his own health, he’d probably be horrified- food is very important to Kyojuro and he would be mortified at the idea of eating a demon to gain its powers, especially if it hurts the consumer. I’m not sure if he’d try to stop Genya or not, but he’d definitely be concerned about him.

Either way, I think the key variable here is whether or not Genya lets his guard down long enough for Kyojuro to learn his story- then I think their relationship would evolve from professional to a lot more brotherly. Kyojuro can’t entirely help it- it’s in his nature to protect, it’s literally been taught to him since he was old enough to understand. He would want to protect Genya regardless, but learning his story, his sacrifices, and his actions going forward, Kyojuro would almost certainly take him under his own wing if given the chance. I believe Genya would remind Kyojuro of Senjuro- someone who doesn’t fight traditionally, but is so so strong in their own regard. They aren’t exactly the same, but they have enough similarities that i believe Kyo would definitely associate the two.

how knowing Genya would change his perception of Sanemi is also an interesting concept but I’m going to save that for another post lol

anyway pls feel free to plug in different variables for me to analyze???? id like to do them all here but unfortunately i am writing this post so i can procrastinate on my schoolwork so im gonna call it here lol

#did i just figure out how to do algebra by doing demon slayer analysis #i almost failed algebra what the fuck #leon askbox #kny analysis #leon rambles #demon slayer #genya shinazugawa #kyojuro rengoku

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soapdish290 · 2 years

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The Tower.

Okay. So we have this:

https://twitter.com/SpankMeSilly/status/1570020419150950401?s=20&t=tbQfUWRqmqXO9IXbcWPwBg

We have Ianthe and ‘Kiriona’, described by Ianthe as ‘The Tower Princes’ (Nona, pg 210). I don’t know the significance of this, but we haven’t had John describe things as ‘Tower’ anything before, so it’s definitely SOMETHING. More easily parsable, we have whatever Judith / the 7th RB is talking about on page 393:

“They concoct their own vengeance,” said the Captain. “Their justice is not my justice. Their water is not my water. I came to help. I am made a mockery. The danger is upon you, and you do not even know … they are coming out of their tower, salt thing. There is a hole at the bottom of their tower. I will pull their teeth. I will make it blank for you.”

Harrow also sees this at the end of John 5:4, when she decides she’s heard enough, turns from John (turns from god, both literally and metaphorically), and heads out into the river (there’s more on this tying in to how we leave her after her ‘death’ in Harrow, but that would be it’s own thing and should be rather obvious if you look at all the pieces now):

Before her, the waters parted, speared-through and mute, for the enormous lance of a tower—a tower that had never been there before; a tower that soared, impossible and deadly grey, out of the waters—a tower of grey bricks, lurching out of the River as though gasping for air. An impossible, cone-capped tower—a belled tower; she could see the steeple, but the bell cot was too far from shore to see the bell. “I’ll start there,” she said.

Nona et al also see it, again in the river, and it scares Nona shitless on page 440. This is a long one, I’m sorry:

The tower was so big—as the megatruck approached she began to realise how big, as big and as broad and as tall as any crane or building in the city—stretching higher than their Building at home, even. There was a clear mark where the water reached up it, where the stone was wet black rather than the dry-stone grey above. From inside the megatruck, she could not see how high up it went. For some reason this tower scared Nona’s top and bottom thoughts so terribly that her heart went ker-CHUNK in her chest—there was a terrible pain in her side and all the way down her arm. The pain was good, because she couldn’t think about anything but the pain. The more she thought, the more problems she had. “The hole,” said the Captain, “the hole in the road, the hole, the hole, the hole.”

I don’t know what this tower is. I’m not particularly well read and my memory isn’t worth shit, I’m not catholic, I’ve nothing I can pull from to reference with to try and understand this. If it’s eluded to in previous books, it isn’t done so by name.

I CAN say with some confidence that it’s known to the souls of the planets. The 7th RB is familiar with it, and Nona’s entire body nearly stops working - she has what is described as a fucking cardiac event when she sees it. And, because she’s Nona and she can’t be a useful narrator even once, she refuses to think about it loudly enough to actually answer our questions.

It’s tall. It protrudes far out of the river. (was it once IN the river? Related to the Stoma in some way? I’m going to need to re-read Harrow) And, whatever the fuck it is, it’s REACTIVATED.

Edit: FUCK! I just found something else!

When Nona et al find the tower, Judith says something (pg 440):

“He left them too long—you left them too long, my salt thing.”

And Nona DEFINITELY knows, but won’t let herself think:

There was a thought above and below that knew what it was, but the moment she looked at either thought she’d lose the game.

and whatever it is “scared [her] ... terribly”.

I think this might be related to the souls that weren’t resurrected. Something has happened - possibly related to the shitshow at the end of Harrow - which has put things into motion. I imagine the Stoma is similar. The ‘otherside of the river’ might be similar. fuck, the entire river might be these souls - we don’t really KNOW enough yet. But I think these are what’ve been left too long. And I don’t think they’re overly sympathetic.

Alecto herself also says something that implies that the river is made of the souls of those John didn’t see fit to resurrect - on page 477 it mentions it !was grieved to find [the river] yet dead.

This also makes me think about something I just made another post about - Nona draws something called a ‘Cradle Creature’ - saying “When first it was born it used to live in a river, but then it got cold so it had to get large.” (pg 251) and the Tower just seems reminiscent of that? This last is a SUPER reach, but ‘he left them too long’ is definitely a sentence that has teeth. Pardon the pun.

#Nona the ninth #nona the ninth spoilers #tlt

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pochipop · 2 years

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＃ GENSHIN IMPACT !! ♡ — A FELINE'S WISH FOR A BIRD OF PREY (AYATO X READER).

#. synopsis! — accompanying ayaka to a masquerade ball becomes an increasingly more difficult endeavor when you realize just how differently you've lived compared to your wealthy, noble counterparts. not to mention that ayato suddenly asks you to dance with him .

#. characters! —ayato .

#. warnings! — angst , mentions of/references to class disparity .

#. word count! — 4.6k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @yyolkchi (reblog/spam) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

Duty swept Ayaka away a while ago, leaving you in the Masquerade Hall alone. You’ve got a vice-like grip on the once-pristine glass you’re holding that’s now riddled with sweat from your clammy palms and squished fingerprints from your constant fidgeting. You haven’t taken a single drink from it the entire time, instead holding it just to feel more like those around you. This was a bad idea from the start. And the worst part of all is that you knew it was a bad idea, but couldn’t bear the thought of turning Ayaka, your newfound best friend, away.

So you went along with it. You found an outfit elegant enough for the occasion, —the occasion being a Masquerade Ball for nobility and high-ranking government officials from all the nations of Teyvat, held in bustling inner-city Fontaine,—you chose a mask upon arrival (and were stuck with only two options, one being a slightly cracked, oddly colored fox, and the other being the obvious choice of a falcon with intricate, vine-like designs,) and you took a deep breath, hoping to simply grin and bear it.

You’re hardly an individual who can be considered “from nobility.” You come from a family of miners: hard-working, but not exactly high on the list of social status, especially in a place like Inazuma where titles often hold much weight. You don’t exactly fit in here, either. Though you spent a fair amount on your outfit, it’s painfully obvious that yours would be considered cheap if you were to compare it to anyone else’s here. It’s then that you passively start to regret not having let Ayaka have an outfit made specifically for you as she’d offered many times over. . .

“Don’t go to the trouble! Everyone will be focusing on you and Ayato, —not me. The way your outfits look is much more important!” You’d insisted at the time, and even now, you agree with the heart of your assurance.

But everytime someone so much as glances in your general direction, you fear they’re then turning back to their wealthy comrades to snicker about how “unfortunate” you must be to have shown up in something so lackluster. After all, the most expensive thing adorning your body at the moment is your earrings that aren’t even yours to begin with. Ayaka lent them to you as a last minute touch up, happily clipping them to your earlobes while mentioning that she’d never worn them before because they never seemed to match her outfits properly, “but they match yours perfectly!”

You weren’t so certain about that, but again, didn’t have the heart to turn her away.

“Care to dance?”

You nearly jump out of your skin and drop that fairly sullied glass held tight in your hand when Ayato approaches you with that request. He notes the way you flinch and quickly apologizes.

“I’m sorry,” he says, but a dangerously amused smile seems to play ever so gently on his lips just below the hem of the silver, gem-adorned cat mask that rests atop the upper half of his handsome face. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

To say that Ayato makes you nervous would be a grave understatement. You know much of him, but have spoken to him personally very few times. Of course, being close with Ayaka has afforded you sneak peeks into parts of his life from time to time, but you’re certain that admiring him from a distance and truly knowing him are two completely different things.

It doesn’t help that you have a crush on him, —one that Ayaka thankfully has yet to pick up on, as far as you know. She likely wouldn’t be mad, but as her elder brother, Ayato feels beyond off-limits. You often feel guilty for harboring any feelings for him in the first place, so there’s no telling just how much worse that would get if you ever indulged in that attraction actively. . . Although, you doubt someone of Ayato’s status and admittedly high-levels of handsomeness would ever glance in your direction. There’s distance there that need not be filled, as far as your perception of it goes.

“That’s okay,” you manage a coherent reply before explaining: “I’m a little on edge is all. I don’t come to events like this often.”

But you’re sure he’d already deduced as much from your clothes.

“I try to avoid them when I can,” he admits in return. “The idle chatter is a rather tedious endeavor.”

You’ve heard that sentiment from Ayato before.

“I imagine it gets tiring being someone of your status at gatherings,” you acknowledge.

“Ah, you know who I am, then?” He says, almost sounding saddened by it.

Huh. . . ?

Did he really think that a simple mask would be enough to hide everything else? It’s not as if he and Ayaka both don’t stand out amongst a crowd. Even with their faces covered, it’s nearly impossible to not notice them each in their own regard. Ayaka’s giveaway is her long, powder-blue ponytail that bounces ever so slightly when she walks, as well as the way she seems to glide across the floor like she’s dancing sometimes.

And Ayato. . . His giveaway is not only his hair that might as well be sparkling under the dimmed lights of the hall, but his voice; so melodic and sweet, but confident all the same. The voice you’ve heard in passing a million times before when he enters the Kamisato Estate and you hear him walking by through the halls from Ayaka’s bedroom. He moves in ardent strides and drips with security. He lives in a completely different world from you.

“. . . Kamisato Ayato,” you say, answering his question.

His amused smile seems to falter into one of melancholy.

“Correct,” he confirms. “Being from Fontaine, I’d just assumed I’d need to introduce myself properly.”

He leaves out the part about assuming your lack of nobility or high status based on your clothing. While he can be tactless at times, he knows much better than to mention something so careless. Just as well, he still thinks you look lovely tonight, even if your outfit hadn’t been hand woven to match your every dip and curve.

“Being. . . From Fontaine?” You inquire further, feeling hopelessly confused.

Although, you must admit that it makes sense he wouldn’t recognize you. He traveled with Thoma rather than his sister after he learned that Ayaka would be bringing a friend along, so he hadn’t a clue what you’d be wearing or what mask you’d be donning. Not to mention the fact that most conversations between the two of you have been quick and in passing, Ayato simply stopping and greeting you to be polite rather than out of genuine interest. He’s busy, always rushing about from place to place, or locking himself away in his office to complete stacks of paperwork that might as well be tall enough to reach the ceiling.

It makes sense that he doesn’t really know you well enough to pick you out of a crowd, especially with a mask on the upper half of your face. Unlike you, he likely hasn’t memorized your voice. He hasn’t looked on as you grace his presence with your own, heart thumping a little faster.

“The falcon masks,” Ayato elaborates, “they’re quite popular among citizens of Fontaine, no? Perhaps I assumed too quickly.”

You should tell him. You really should. But the opportunity to be someone else before him is just so enticing that it’s hard to resist. Impossible, even.

“You’ve got a good eye,” you tell him.

It’s not really lying if you don’t outright deny his suspicions. Lying by omission, sure. . . But not simply lying.

He laughs, low and charming.

“I must agree,” Ayato answers, but somehow, it doesn’t seem to be the case that he’s referencing the falcon mask’s connotation.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was flirting with you.

“The offer to dance still stands, by the way,” he says, offering his hand for you to take. “If I may?”

Without fully thinking, you begin to reach up, but stop yourself halfway. There’s a lot wrong with this situation, and you’re beginning to worry that you’re going to wind up in over your head. What if Ayaka sees? Although, that’s unlikely considering that she’d been ushered away by some very talkative businessmen from Liyue to another room entirely, and if her luck were to rear its ugly head, she might well spend the rest of the night getting an earful from them. And you know better than anyone that she wouldn’t be the type to interrupt or easily find a way to remove herself from the situation.

I should tell him.

You open your mouth to make the confession, but another spills out entirely.

“I. . . I’m not a very good dancer,” you say.

For what it’s worth, that is true. In a setting like this, you haven’t a clue how to move your feet or dance with someone else. Ayaka had offered to teach you some simple steps, but you’d insisted that it wouldn’t be of any use, and if not for Ayato’s startling request, you more than likely would have been right.

“I’m not much of one myself,” he notes, almost playfully so, “but I can lead a few choppy steps, if you’d give me the honor.”

He’s persistent, but not pushy. You know you can decline and he won’t be upset. . . But his hand is right there, outstretched to you of all people, and it’s hard not to feel like the luckiest person in the world.

So you take him up on his offer and let your fingers softly grace the flat of his palm. He offers you another smile, although you can't seem to read between the lines of this one, and he places your sullied glass on a passing collection tray. As promised, he leads you in an easy dance, whispering to you the directions you should step the first few times as he seeks to ease you into the movements.

"You're a natural," he compliments, though you're sure he's only being polite.

You gaze up at him through the wide slits in your falcon mask, quickly finding his eyes behind the holes of his own. Even under the shadow cast from his feline disguise, you can see the bright, heart-melting periwinkle sparkle of his irises. You've never before had the opportunity to gaze up at him like this, but you quickly subvert your gaze to the ground, pretending to watch your feet as you move slowly in his wake. He's so. . . Perfect. So much so that it's driving you wild.

To dance with someone like him at an event like this is a dream come true; but in the back of your mind, you know it wouldn't ever truly last. He'll move on, find someone of higher status, whether by way of choice or pressure to do so. He'll never think twice about you once this night has passed.

"Your eyes are beautiful," he says in a low, whispered voice.

Your heart all but palpitates at the compliment. It feels so sincere, —like it's not just something he's saying because he wants to have a fleeting love affair with someone he thinks to be from another nation. This behavior of his, if a bit reckless, is genuine. . . Maybe even devastatingly so.

"I-I don't know about that," you answer with a brief stumble, quickly finding your verbal balance once more, "—but thank you. That's nice of you to say."

His fingers, once loosely hooked around the tippy top of your hip, relax to a semi-firm hold. Like it or not, every touch is melting you down even more, and even the thought of being caught by Ayaka has completely slipped your mind. You don't have the will to fight these feelings away for the time being. It's hard to not live in the moment when every graze of his fingertips electrifies your nervous system and leaves you tingling from head to toe.

As you dance with Ayato to the soft, violin-heavy music that plays in the background, you lose yourself. You can't help it. Everything is too intoxicating, and though you've purposefully avoided all the alcoholic drinks tonight, you've found yourself lost and delirious all the same.

Kamisato Ayato. . . It's all your fault. . .

"If I may," you request softly, "why did you ask me to dance with you? Out of everyone else, I mean."

His answer is quick and concise, as if he didn't even need to consider it. Or, perhaps it was more so that he'd been waiting for such a question all along.

“You seemed to be the only person here who wanted nothing from me at all.”

It’s hardly difficult to imagine all the people that have likely approached him tonight in need of something here and another there. . . Ayaka began dealing with very similar things the moment she entered the hall. You’d been on your own for most of the night, chatting with her in between the exhausting conversations about politics, foreign affairs, and other things you have little to no experience with outside of being her companion. You know little more than the average person even still, as Ayaka prefers to keep business and friendships as very separate endeavors.

“It must be rough,” you acknowledge, “. . . I doubt I could manage even half as well as you do if I were in your place.”

“You flatter me,” Ayato smiles again, “but I’m hard-pressed to believe you. I have a feeling you could manage just fine.”

Again, it’s so genuine that it almost stings.

“Beyond that,” he continues, reaching up with a single hand to push his mask up to the side, revealing his full face to you, “I’m interested to know more about you. What brings you to this event?”

Your sister.

“Um. . . Nothing really in particular,” you reply vaguely, hoping to leave it at that.

He doesn’t press it, though he is curious as to what your answer means. Something about the way your kind eyes flicker up at him, and then quickly away again almost sheepishly, is familiar to him somehow. . . Not that Ayato is any stranger to nervous eye contact.

“Might I ask for your name then?” He inquires.

Your heart begins to race. What are you to do in this situation that you’re completely and utterly unprepared for? If you’re honest, what happens if he recalls the day you introduced yourself to him officially? It’s not much of a longshot to assume that Ayaka has spoken of you to her elder brother, and though he may not know you personally at all, he likely knows of you. But you’re drawing a blank and can’t seem to think of any fake names to offer him that don’t sound completely and utterly ridiculous. The silence between the two of you, while having only lasted for a few seconds by now, seems deafening.

Just when you’ve decided to succumb and let the pieces fall where they may in order to avoid the long-term embarrassment, a saving grace seems to swoop by with slicked back hair and a gaudy suit on. A man you’ve never seen before approaches Ayato and all but pulls him away from you, as if you had never existed in the first place. . . And maybe in their world, the one Ayato lives with the rest of his wealthy, noble counterparts, you never truly did. He’d interrupted you as if you were little more than dirt on his shoe.

“Mr Kamisato, it’s been quite a while! I’ve recently heard news that the state of affairs in Inazuma has been faring quite nicely since you were given a higher position. Though I’m sure the work is tedious, I imagine the results have been pleasing for both yourself and. . .”

You’re out of earshot before the man finishes, having slipped out of Ayato’s grip and back into reality. With murmured apologies, you slip through the crowd and into another room altogether, spotting Ayaka in the far corner. You can tell her smile is strained, but there isn’t much you can do to help her. In fact, there’s really nothing you can do at all. So instead, you slip out onto the balcony of the building, desperately in need of some fresh air.

It’s cold out here, and though lots of people are mingling inside, you feel alone, —completely isolated in your own little prison. You slip the mask off your face and hold it in your hands, trying your best to hold back tears as you crane your neck to look up at the sky. Stars seem to twinkle amongst the inky expanse above, but their joyous concert falls on deaf ears. A small sob bubbles up your throat.

To make matters worse, you reach up to hastily wipe away your shameful tears, only to find that one of your earrings is missing. One of Ayaka’s earrings. You know you have to find it, but you can’t will your legs to move. Even more so, you know you don’t exactly look your best right now, and the thought of letting anyone see you this way is completely humiliating.

You resign yourself to huddling against your knees, back pressed to the wall in the far corner where you can’t be seen from the inside. There, you let yourself cry for a few minutes, —allowing yourself to feel every inch of sorrow and discomfort, thinking maybe it’ll make you feel better. It doesn’t. . . At least not really, anyway. So much had been right, and then so much had been wrong. Or, maybe everything had been wrong the entire time and you were just too caught up in the moment to realize it.

By the time your tears stop flowing and you’ve leveled your breathing out, someone has joined you on the balcony.

“Y/n?”

His voice is familiar, almost comforting in the moment. You draw your gaze up to meet his eyes from where you’re sitting.

“Thoma. . .”

“Is everything okay?” He inquires, softly adding: “if there’s something you need to talk about, I’ll be glad to lend an ear.”

You give a bitter laugh, mostly at yourself. He’s just being kind, as he always is, in true Thoma fashion.

“I just don’t think I belong here,” you tell him.

“All the fancy clothes and all the jewels, —all the people with more Mora than I’ll likely ever see in my entire lifetime. People who’ve lived most of their lives well off, doing things I can only do now because of my friendship with Ayaka. . . And even then, it’s clear that I just don’t fit in. The divide between myself and everyone else is wide enough to swallow me whole.”

Thoma gets it, probably more than you might expect. With how well he’s integrated himself into the Kamisato siblings’ way of life, it’s almost too easy to forget that Thoma is much like you. He often accompanies the two on various trips, aiding in their schedules, sometimes taking care of the finer details. His official title is that of a housekeeper, but he does much more than just that behind the scenes of it all.

“I understand where you’re coming from,” he tells you gently. “I really do. It’s not easy sometimes, even for me, and I’ve been to dozens of events like these.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you reply with a soft smile, “you look the part, and I’m sure you play it well enough.”

“I certainly didn’t at first. I was completely overwhelmed, and probably feeling a lot like you are right now. Completely lost and afraid to make any mistakes, worried that everyone was judging me no matter what I was doing, as if everyone could see right through the nice suit I was wearing and the smile I was trying so hard to keep plastered on my face.”

“And it’s like everyone just knows somehow that you’re not meant to be here, that you’re not cut out for this kind of environment, and they’re all just standing around waiting for you to mess up and completely humiliate yourself or something,” you add bitterly.

“At the same time though, you seem to be invisible,” he continues. “People maneuver around you and disregard your existence sometimes, —as if you’re so insignificant that they couldn’t be bothered to give you the time of night.”

“Exactly,” you sigh deeply.

“But,” Thoma says, optimistically so, “a lot of that is all in your head. Most people don’t come to these kinds of events to poke fun at others, and the rude people only stand out because you’re already focusing on all the negatives. At the end of the day, someone like you. . . People like us, —we have just as much a right to be here as anyone else.”

“I do believe that’s true,” you acknowledge.

“I just. . . Wish that everyone else believed that it was true as well.”

“Well, whether certain individuals like it or not, here we are,” he says candidly.

You smile.

“Thank you for talking with me, Thoma,” you say.

“My pleasure,” he replies, eyes slitting into little crescent moons as he gives you another smile.

Just when he’s about to comment on how chilly it’s gotten as the night has deepened and suggest that the both of you head back inside, another man steps out onto the balcony.

“Thoma,” Ayato says, “have you seen Ayaka by any cha—”

He stops himself mid-sentence when he realizes that you’re sitting in the darkest corner of the balcony, arms wrapped around your knees.

“Nevermind,” he withdraws his previous question, “. . . would you mind giving us a bit?”

Thoma asks no questions, simply nods his head and does as was asked of him. He slips back inside and moves away from the entrance to the balcony, just to be clear that he has no plans of eavesdropping on whatever conversation is about to take place.

You have a hard time even looking up at him now, nonetheless meeting his eyes. It’s far too late to pull the falcon mask over your upper face again, so with no hope of hiding your appearance now, you take a quick breath in and resign yourself to whatever outcome is waiting on the horizon.

Ayato seems as calm, cool, and collected as he always does. It’s almost intimidating now.

Before he speaks, he offers his hand to you for the second time tonight. Once more, you take it. It’s warmer the second time around. . . He helps you to your feet and doesn’t mention that your eyes are puffy or that your face is a little tear-stained.

“It’s a bit cold,” he notes, slipping the jacket of his suit off in order to drape it over your shoulders.

It smells like him, and you don’t have the will to hand it back. Your shaking hands grip at either side, pulling the jacket around yourself a little tighter.

“Thank you,” you say in a voice barely above a whisper.

“I suppose I did presume too quickly that you hailed from Fontaine,” he comments.

There’s no hint of bitterness in his voice, —in fact, there’s little more than a silent understanding. You’re not certain of how much he’s been able to grasp from your brief interaction, but you have a sneaking suspicion that your feelings for him are no longer a complete secret. Which is embarrassing, of course, but. . . It could always be worse.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, nearly choking on the words as they bubbled up from the back of your throat. “I know that I’ve put you in an awkward position, and that truly wasn’t my intention, I just. . .”

You trail off, uncertain of what to say. You don’t really know what happened. It was like you were being swept away, completely overtaken by the way his warmth seeped from his palm to the tips of your fingers. Selfishly, when you had the opportunity to touch someone you’d long thought to be out of reach, you couldn’t manage to turn him away.

“There’s no need for you to apologize,” Ayato assures you. “I’m the one who asked you to dance, after all. It was my mistake not recognizing you much sooner. You did feel familiar to me somehow, but I couldn’t seem to place it.”

You stay silent, unsure of what you’re supposed to say in reply, or even if you’re supposed to reply at all.

“Ah,” he says, as if a lightbulb has gone off over his head, “that reminds me.”

His long, lithe fingers fumble around in his pocket for a moment or two before he removes them and holds a dangling crystal between them. Your eyes widen a bit at the sight of Ayaka’s earring, —one half of the pair you thought you’d lost for good.

“I realized who you were after you’d rushed away,” he explains. “These earrings were a gift from a member of Liyue’s Qixing given to Ayaka last summer. I recognized this one the moment I saw it on the floor at the tip of my shoe. The pieces came together easily after that.”

Ayato turns to the side, bringing the earring close to you.

“May I?”

You nod in approval, and he says nothing more, instead reaching out to brush a few loose strands of hair out of your face and tucking them behind your ear. He then clips the earring to your earlobe before pulling his hands away and returning them promptly to his sides.

You swallow the lump that’s formed in your throat.

“I really am sorry,” you tell him, “even if you don’t think I have to be. The truth is that I was happy when you asked me to dance and once I realized you didn’t recognize me, I thought that if you knew who I was, you’d have taken the offer back. So I didn’t say anything.”

“I wouldn’t have taken the offer back,” he says firmly.

“When I told you that I wanted to dance with you because you were the only person in the room that I didn’t feel wanted me to do something for them, I meant that. And I meant it when I said your eyes are beautiful as well, —because they are. Especially now. They reflect starlight like the surface of the ocean.”

You clam up in the face of such a bold compliment. Ayato makes it hard for you to breathe sometimes. And as if to emphasize his points, he offers his hand to you for the third time that night.

“Would you like to dance with me? No masks, no interruptions. . . Just the two of us and the waxing moon.”

With your heart pounding like a drum, you take him up on his offer yet again. It feels much more intimate now that you’re away from everyone else, his hands stationed along your hips and your hands resting on his shoulders. You decide then and there that when this party ends, you’re going to be honest with Ayaka about your feelings for her elder brother. Whether this goes anywhere between you and Ayato is one thing, but not telling Ayaka the truth is another, and she’s likely deserved to know all along. Avoiding it has given you a lot of grief, and with these sudden and fully unexpected developments happening as they are, you know it’s better to be honest with her now and not blindside her with this later if things end up getting serious.

Hopefully, everything will turn out okay in the end.

You have a feeling it will.

But for now, you’re content where you are, dancing with Ayato under the light of a thousand stars.

#genshin #genshin impact #kamisato ayato #ayato #ayato angst #kamisato ayato angst #genshin ayato #kamisato ayato genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact angst #genshin angst #kamisato ayato x reader angst #ayato x reader angst #ayato x you #ayato x y/n #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x you #kamisato ayato x y/n

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demigodofhoolemere · 1 month

Text

Mystery pain question for my fellow chronic pain folks:

For as long as I can remember I’ve gotten irregular pains in my ankles. I don’t know how to describe this pain, other than that it’s not dissimilar to growing pains, and for years I kind of figured it was probably just part of that. At some point after becoming an adult and clearly not growing anymore, that was obviously not the case.

Nothing ever causes this pain; it will just come on out of nowhere with no obvious reason or trigger, usually just one ankle at a time, and there’s no predicting when it will happen because sometimes I’ll go weeks and weeks without an instance of it and other times it’ll come back fairly quickly after the last time, even successive days in a row. No doctors know what the heck this is and pain meds don’t really do anything to make it stop.

In the past few years it’s extended from only ever being in my ankles. It can now present itself in any of the four limbs, in any spot throughout them. Sometimes it’ll be in one of my knees or wrists and so on, and I’ve now fairly often had it be throughout the entirety of a given limb. At the moment of writing this I have this pain all through one of my legs. Sometime in the past year it was so excruciating throughout an entire arm that I was nearly completely disabled by it, it was agony to do anything with it and I was at the point of tears, which my various chronic pains/illnesses almost NEVER bring me to no matter how bad it can get, my pain threshold is very high. This particular mystery pain is not usually disabling, more just uncomfortable than anything but I can still function well enough during it, but it’s a bit concerning that it’s become enough of a problem that that can happen now. Sometimes it will also be in multiple limbs at once in various spots which is a little annoying; rarely was it ever in both ankles at once throughout growing up so there’s little precedent for it being on more than one side (or limb, now) at the same time, but that’s where we’re at now.

I wish I knew how to properly describe what the feeling of it even is, no description of either muscle or joint pain has ever sounded quite right and I’ve only ever been able to refer to it as simply “my ankle pain” regardless of where it now chooses to present itself. It’s just… this painful discomfort that sort of sits in the spot it’s at, not exactly pulsing or radiating but just… there.

I’m thinking this may be a weird fibromyalgia thing? I’ve never been officially diagnosed with that, but my mom has been for many years now and with the benefit of hindsight she and her aunt think that her mother must have had it based on things she would describe but wouldn’t have had a word for, and as time goes on I’ve developed more and more of my mom’s fibro symptoms. She doesn’t have this same particular problem but I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s what this is and it was simply the first symptom that hit me even as a child and now it’s gotten worse into young adulthood the way that some of my mom’s symptoms got worse with time.

Does anyone with fibromyalgia understand the kind of pain I’m trying to explain and can confirm that it’s likely fibro? Or anyone with some other lesser known thing that this could be? I don’t know what to make of it anymore.

#chronic pain #fibromyalgia #fibro #ankle pain #mystery pain

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lunashiba · 2 years

Photo

A bit of a redesign for Morgan, first posted on 7-13-2022. I was very, very happy with how this piece turned out actually! It was my first time using a binary brush, so I had a small bit of a learning curve with this one. I usually paint and render, so I feel pretty uncomfortable with cell shading (but this time, it ended up alright). I’ll put some processes and such below, along with some more backstory and thoughts, if anybody is interested.

A minion is dangling on her tail on the bottom right.

Above are the sketches and WIPs I had leading up to the finished piece. I really liked these sketches, but ended up deciding to fully draw out one. Morgan was actually one of my first OCs, but her design has changed a lot over time. Back when I first started to draw, I thought that OCs were a bit too far out for me- I only ever envisioned myself as a fan artist. Nowadays, it’s quite the opposite- I don’t think I’ll ever do much art of popular media and such except if it’s for friends. The friends I made when I first started drawing all had OCs though, and that was what eventually made me more keen to the idea of making one. In my mind, having a consistent character to grind out all the time would be helpful in building my consistency and speed, so it counted as something that would help me grind- not to mention all the art stuff that went into “designing a character”.

I used to be extremely into learning art in a very methodical, nearly academic way. Everything had to be very productive and effective- I had to make sure I was getting as good as I could, as fast as I could; otherwise I’d be wasting time. I think it’s pretty easy to see my mindset at the time being unhealthy, but I don’t know if I’d regret too much of it. I enjoyed finally having a “productive” hobby in my life. With my online art friends, we decided to altogether draw something of a banner, with all of our pieces lined side to side- with this opportunity, I decided to draw the first iteration of my OC, who had no name at the time.

3-4-2018

I think that this may have also been my first piece with color? Or at least, full page of color. I think I just referred to her as “the horn girl” or “the antler girl” and based it on some crazy deer stuff. I loved the little doodles I did to the side- It’s something I haven’t done as much. I used to make sure to always put a little scribble as somewhere as a joke for anybody who looked hard enough to find it in all of my pieces, but it started annoying me because I couldn’t ignore it once I posted the piece. After this, I tried to further work on my OC, opting for different colors.

4-5-2018

I liked this design actually, but it didn’t really fit my personality. I guess I don’t really vibe that well with smug characters. I like the outfit I designed for her, but I think it shows a bit too much skin- it wouldn’t really be something I’d draw nowadays. It’d take a bit for me to realize that NSFW art or anything slightly so wouldn’t really be for me either.

4-30-2018

Things started to get refined- I kept around the ponytail, and toned down her outfit. I remember being extremely happy with the satchel and the earrings, and I kept around the thigh highs. I still felt a bit unhappy, with the design, but I couldn’t put my finger on what.

10-23-2018

If you look at the dates, you can see that it took a few months for this current design to come along. I actually extremely adore this design, and I don’t think I’ll ever fully shelve it. Disregarding the hair, this is pretty much the final design of this character. This is the Morgan that truly lives through to today. I remember drawing the shoes for over an hour- maybe two hours. I worked a long time on the line art, especially regarding the shoes, making sure that I’d get it absolutely correct in both perspective and in geometry. Nowadays I’m much less of a perfectionist in some ways (though more in others). Morgan initially had more brunette hair, but I gradually transitioned to a bit more of an anime red, and I brought back the horns that I really liked. A particular artifact of this era of art was that I used to draw little triangles above the eyes, to symbolize the little wrinkles in the eyelids. I know I didn’t make it up myself, but I’m not exactly sure where I got it from. Now, I just draw the eyelid folds. From here on out, it was more just personality growths than visual design changes.

3-6-2020

At this point, I had been accepted into art school and engineering school. I couldn’t give up either of them, so I doubled majored- as a result, what I had to give up on was time. I stopped doing as much digital art for a while, so most of what I have at this time period can be seen in notebook paper or scrap paper. I was a huge workaholic, and it started to affect my health.

3-8-2020

Morgan is gay. I came to the realization that I was pretty gay too, at around this time, and I guess I wanted to show it in my art too.

3-9-2020

The day after. She is very gay still. Here, you can see the absolute beginnings of a tiny doodle of Soone. She’d be developed later.

4-19-2020

I found my favorite marker. It wasn’t anything special at all- the tip was running dry, and it was completely blank- I couldn’t find any trace of a brand at all. The terrible paper with the texture of the marker made it extremely appealing to me however, and I fell in love with it. I don’t know where it is now, but I hope I’ll find another terrible marker at some point to fall in love with again.

Bonus Soone sketch idea. I really like this design, but overall decided to not use it- or at least, not all of it. I don’t think it’s fully gone yet though.

7-19-2020

Morgan’s character design is basically completed- She is very gay. I think at this point, she was also trans, though it was much more unspoken. It’s a bit subtle, but I stopped giving her as much indication of having “a chest”.

9-4-2020

I did a bit more work with Morgan’s horns here. It’s nothing that stays around too much, but who’s to say it won’t come back? I think I stopped drawing horns like this because I was a bit lazy with horn rendering. Also, it made the design a bit busy. This outfit is cute though, and I like it as a general vibe of Morgan. She also has a tummy piercing.

9-12-20

A little in-joke between friends.

10-7-2020

A Halloween drawing. She still has red horns. I used to always draw Sharingan on everything as a joke, but it’s faded out a bit now.

1-15-2021

I treasure this comic a lot. In a way, it helped me cope a lot, as it was based on a true story. I love this design for Morgan, kinda symbolizing an earlier Morgan, maybe a bit earlier in her transition. It somewhat aligned with my life, and the mental state I was kinda living in. I want to make more comics like this.

1-28-2021

Small doodles I had lying around on another blog.

3-29-2021

I forgot I drew this until writing this post. This Morgan was a bit of a vision of how a more confident, future Morgan would be like. Regarding her future, I think she’d end up enjoying being a professor, and I felt the vibes would be nice. Who’s to say if this is canon or not- or if there is a canon. I like having fun. Her horns are red and have ridges as well. I’d like to imagine that she’s the type of professor to have photos of her wedding on her desk, along with photos of her wife and her cats.

6-14-2021

This one was for Pride Month 2021. I should draw another piece next year, since I missed 2022′s. This is probably one of my proudest paintings ever, and one of my favorite Morgan Designs. I want to draw her like this again. I dropped the horns being red also, and moved to a more white/cream color.

8-18-2021

This one I made while I was very sad. It took a lot of coming to terms regarding my family, but this sketch helped me out a lot. I didn’t have the heart to color nor render it however, so I had posted it as is. I think for all of us, many things change, but some things may always stay the same.

8-24-2021

A bit of a happier time- a bitter sweet smile.

9-03-2021

I started to draw more of my daily life as well- this was inspired from my bus rides, where I’d constantly be stressed about school, but simultaneously wanting to draw. I’ve also transitioned from drawing wired to wireless earbuds. Technology evolving is great.

1-1-2022

Happy New Year doodles. I really like all of these designs. I don’t know what to do with this like though. I could always say “Maybe I’ll turn them into Twitch Emotes since I have space,” or “I should make some Discord stickers with them,” but I think I already I’ll be a bit too lazy to do so.

4-10-2022

This was inspired by two adorable mannequins I saw at the mall- I knew right away that I wanted to draw them in these outfits, so I took a picture right away and started a sketch I never finished. It’s around this time that I slowly started to approach the Adventure Time methodology to characters. In Adventure Time, the characters always had such varying hairstyles, clothing, and outfits that I adored- differing from episode to episode. I decided that any Morgan and any Soone will still be Morgan and Soone no matter how they looked, and actually focused on less of a central design (though I still liked the central design).

2-27-2022

A bit more of a “Realistic” Morgan and Soone. I think optimally, I’d love to draw Morgan like this more. Her design here as a more androgynous character is something I really wish I could do more often, instead of falling back on the easier to draw very-feminine Morgan. I based this design a lot on the Fate character Enkidu, whose androgynous design I’ve fallen deeply in love with (specifically, this one, which is one of my more memorable adored arts that I can think of).

4-01-2022

Morgan but ACTUALLY more real. I couldn’t get the colors right, so I left things as black and white. I’m still extremely happy with it though. I initially posted it for this year’s Pride Month, but then mentally removed it, since I felt I’d rather have a fully complete piece.

[------ END ------]

There are a few more Morgan pieces here and there, but maybe I’ll place out a few posts with them, so that I can put out the process and WIPs separately. As it stands, this post has run pretty long, and ended up being a lot more detailed than I had initially planned for. I ended up finishing the draft for this post at 4:40 AM, though I had initially posted it nearly 10 hours earlier. I ranted a lot, but I think it was nice to type all this out. Not sure who’d be interested in reading all this, but thanks for sticking through. I’m glad that I was able to write out so much for Morgan though. I also hope I can draw her more often, and post her everywhere. I hope that other people also like her as well. I hope everybody has a great day and night.

Thank you for reading.

Luna

#lgbtq #art

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elliewiltarwyn · 9 months

Text

FFXIV Write 2023 | Prompt #12: Dowdy

I'll be real I didn't really have any great ideas for this one so I sort of grabbed for a trope I've seen a lot and decided to do the opposite of the prompt?? oh well it's something ;u;

-860 words

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“Oh, thank the Fury, you’re back—I was beginning to think you weren't going to make it in time.”

“The hells are you talking about? It’s still like two hours until it starts, isn’t it?”

Mia shook her head and smiled ruefully as she straightened out her billowing sleeves and tightened some of the laces on her corset—her corset. Of all the things… “You’re right, technically, but… because we’re honored guests of House Fortemps, we’re supposed to attend with the rest of Count Edmund’s retinue so he can look all grand and impressive as the doors open. Which means—”

“We have to be there stupid early.” Ellie groaned, and Mia heard a sort of flump sound from the bed behind her, as if someone had just dropped a heavy mass of fabrics upon it. “Gods, I knew I was in trouble the moment somebody mentioned the words ‘Ishgard ball.’”

“You really should have seen it coming, the moment we began to mingle with Ishgardian high society,” Mia chuckled, now adjusting the bands on her cuffs’ straps. “And especially once we defeated Nidhogg—you thought they wouldn’t have celebrated the end of the Dragonsong War with a big stuffy ostentatious ball?”

“I knew they would. I was just hoping we’d get to avoid it.”

“No such luck, I’m afraid,” Mia mused, and as she ran the tips of her fingers under her neckline, ensuring that it wasn’t scratching at her skin or anything, she glanced over her shoulder. “No, I’m afraid you’ll have to suck it up and wear a—” And then she froze in place.

“What?” Ellie said with a sly smirk, running the tips of her fingers under the fringe of her collar. “Coeurl got your tongue? Or Lily, perhaps?”

“N-no, I—” Mia was very uncertain as to why her mouth had suddenly gone dry upon beholding Ellie standing before her dresser at full height, in a smooth, silk tailcoat, a frilly shirt tucked underneath a tightly buttoned vest, and smart slacks tucked into knee-high leather boots. “That’s just not what I was—” She swallowed, her throat suddenly scratchy as well. “...You… look nice.” Really, Mia? That’s the best you could come up with? At least go for handsome, as someone who looks good in a suit is usually referred to…

“I’m glad someone thinks so.” Ellie’s smirk turned wry as she gestured with her hand across the width of her broad shoulders, down the sleeve filled with her thick arm. “They tried to stuff me in a big flowy gown, but… I just don’t have the right build for it.”

“I- I’m sure that’s—come on, that can’t remotely be true. Of course there are dresses that suit your build.” She tamped down the urge to mention that she had been oddly looking forward to see what Ellie looked like in a long flowing ballroom gown, she does not need to know that.

“Maybe, maybe not. Either way, I’m not going to give Ishgard’s high houses a chance to spend the whole evening sneering at how… dowdy or ungainly I look wearing one of their big flowy dresses.” Ellie chuckled and tugged her glove a little tighter. “No, Artoirel suggested I borrow this, it’s one of his old suits—still had to be tailored somewhat to fit, that’s why I’m nearly late for our very early arrival… but it worked out, I think.”

“It very much did,” Mia had to admit; the more she thought about it, the more a suit did, well…suit Ellie and her long frame and broad shoulders. She glanced down at herself, suddenly self-conscious. It wasn’t like she was familiar with this style of formalwear, certainly no more than Ellie was, and she honestly felt more at home in platemail than anything else… Maybe I should’ve… “You don’t think… I’m going to come off as dowdy or ungainly, do you?”

Ellie blinked in mild surprise. “What? No, why would you think that? You’re gorgeous in that.”

If Mia thought her mouth was dry before, it was parched now. And from the stunned expression on Ellie’s face, as though she couldn’t believe the words that had just tumbled forth unbidden from her mouth, was any indication, the tall roegadyn was just as speechless.

Ellie did recover first, though, clearing her throat and shaking her head as she jerked her head toward the door. “Anyway, uh… are you all set? If we have to leave early, we should probably wait in the foyer or something, for everyone else…”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”

In a most ironic fashion that betrayed how she clearly had no idea what she was doing, Ellie proffered her arm to Mia with that same smirk as before. “Is this how Ishgardian gentlefolk do things? It’s something like this, right?”

With a small giggle and a warm smile, Mia threaded her hand through the crook of her friend’s elbow, resting it upon her forearm. “Something like this, yeah. Don’t worry, though; whether or not you’re doing it wrong, I think you’re going to be the best looking one there.”

“I don’t know,” Ellie said knowingly with a wink, “I think I have some pretty stiff competition.”

#ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2023 #my fanfiction #ffxiv fanfiction #as a makeup point to this one feeling kinda meh i at least hope the gpose is cute #i do like putting ellie in suits...femroes in suits do be handsome #very much not really familiar with the “big formal ball” tropes tbh despite the sheer number of ishgardian ball oneshots i've seen lol

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world-of-fire-and-flight · 1 year

Text

Mirth's Ebenezer: Part 14

A/N: OMG I think I can see the light at the end of the tunnel😲 Now the longest standing series on my blog, I’m throwing it back to part 4, part 5, and part 6 in the hopes of tying up some loose ends like who the mole is and how Supervillain got them to leak the holiday schedule. You know, the truly important stuff (though at some point I should probably figure out this love triangle thing. Maybe I should make a poll?? You know what yeah: drop a comment about whether you’d like to vote for who Mirth ends up with and I’ll make a poll for it 😊)

Warnings: reference to past violence, reference to past betrayal, reference to past murder and bodily harm, fleeing, reference to past home invasion (well, safe house invasion😉)

My Masterlist | Taglist Info or Taglist Request Form | Mirth’s Ebenezer masterlist

Mirth let her eyes fall shut and her head go limp, leaning against the cool windowpane of the truck’s rear passenger seat as Superhero and Baron discussed which of their potential suspects was actually Supervillain’s mole.

“I’m telling you, it has to be Agent,” Baron was saying insistently, leaning forward over the center console with one hand dangling over the empty passenger seat and the other over the driver seat. “Who else had access—”

“There’s still Civilian to consider, the H.R. assistant, and as much as I hate to say it, the H.R. director herself, Carole.”

“Well if we’re just going to keep throwing names at the wall, we might as well as add Other Agent to the list too.”

“No,” Mirth finally said, peeling herself away from the window and straightening in her seat beside Baron. “They’re too loyal even if they are a little dimwitted.”

Superhero caught her eye in the rear view mirror, their brow arched in question. Before they could say anything, she added, “I do think we need to consider Judge Whitmire or someone in his office though.”

Baron glanced at her. “Why?”

“Because who else knew where the safe house was?”

Silence descended upon the car. Baron slumped back in the seat and finally buckled himself in. Mirth turned her head back toward the window, watching the forest pass by as Superhero sped through the narrow dirt roads and took the already sharp turns a little too vigorously. Her stomach roiled from the suddenness of the car’s movements and sliding around the backseat with every high speed turn they took. Acid simmered in her gut from both the jerky ride and the fresh memory of Supervillain’s attack on the safe house.

Taking a long breath in through her nose, Mirth tried to focus on anything other than the snap of bones in her ears as she’d slammed henchmen into trees or threw her fist at their faces.

None of it made any sense. How would Civilian or Carole know where they were serving Baron’s house arrest at? But how would anyone in Judge Whitmire’s office know which heroes were scheduled to work during this past holiday season?

Unless…

“What if we’re all right but also wrong?” she started, forcing her eyes to focus on first Superhero’s reflection in the rear view mirror and then Baron beside her. “What if there’re two moles?”

Superhero slammed on the brakes, bringing the truck to a careening stop that had Mirth nearly emptying the contents of her stomach as she flew forward and nearly slammed into the back of their seat behind the wheel. Baron cursed, rubbing his head from where he had actually hit the seat in front of him.

“A little warning would’ve—”

“Then the courthouse isn’t safe either,” Superhero said at the same time, interrupting Baron’s snide remark.

“Then where are we supposed to go?” Mirth asked, rubbing her ribs from where the seat belt had pulled a little too taunt in its effort to prevent her from flying forward at Superhero’s sudden braking.

“I know a place,” Baron said quietly. “Just promise me it won’t violate the terms of my Rogue Trial?”

Superhero’s jaw visibly clenched. “Why would we need to promise that?”

“Oh please,” Baron shot back, “would you trust the system if you were in my position?” Superhero didn’t respond, and in their silence, Baron visibly tempered himself, slumping back in his seat and closing his eyed for a moment. “Let me drive, it’ll be easier that way.”

“No.” Superhero didn’t leave any room for argument, but Baron persisted.

“Look, we don’t have time to fight or for me to direct you to my last safe house, so just let me drive before Supervillain catches up to us.”

“And what makes you think they’re even—”

“Because what we just did? It’s a blow to their ego and they’re going to want to prove that they’re still on top of things, so unless you want to help prove that, let me drive.”

Begrudgingly, Superhero reached for the door handle and undid their seat belt. “Fine. But if I even suspect you’re leading us into a trap—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Baron said flippantly, “you’ll kill me.”

Mirth rolled her eyes. At least their pathetic squabbling hadn’t been impacted by Supervillain’s surprise attack on the safe house. And so much for their near deaths bringing them closer together. Resting her head against the window, she let her eyes fall shut again as Superhero sat in the passenger seat and Baron took the wheel.

Hopefully, Baron’s last-resort safe house actually proved to be secure and safe and they could take a breath before tackling just who the mole was—and how many there actually were.

Mirth’s Ebenezer Taglist: @heroes-villains-side-blog @selene-stories @violetcancerian @kaiwewi @averyconfusedhuman Just let me know if you’d like to be added or removed (no reason necessary!) You can also add yourself using this handy dandy form 😊

#my writing #heroes and villains #hero x villain community #hero x villain #hero x superhero #Mirth's Ebenezer series #writeblr #writing community #hero x villain drabble #hero x villain snippet

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ceruleanmusings · 1 year

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curve ball // inconsolable au

because @theblerdbox gave me the confidence to dive into writing more au ficlets/fics, this au happened. and that the last two paragraphs of stanley's "after cgl" section of his survival guide book when he talked about his life in high school exists. so thank you blerd and thank you louis sachar.

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Mickey sat at the top of the bleachers again.

It wasn't that he looked for her but, well, no one else was around so it was noticeable. She was noticeable. Even when she kept her head down, facing her drawn up knees where she doodled or did homework or something in the notebook she always had with her. She didn’t come every time, but every time she did he noticed.

Stanley messed with the brim of his cap, pulling it lower on his forehead, his curls puffing out from beneath it at all sides like a cloud. Though not quite like the light, fluffy ones dotting the blue sky above. People actually paid attention to those. Liked them, too.

Fidgeting with his hat again, he lowered the brim enough to block out the screaming glare of the sun. Unlike Zigzag who seemed to make it his mission to keep constant eye contact with the sun back in the outfield. Though he wasn’t alone in his idle distractions: Twitch gnawed on the excess lace of his glove as if attached to an infinite length of noodle and Barfbag lie back on the grass as if working on his tan. He may as well, they didn’t have much else to do while waiting for someone to get a hit.

So far all of X-Ray’s pitches hadn’t gone back to him, a feat he pointed out every time Magnet or Armpit whiffed with a loud guffaw followed up by some sort of taunt. Usually commenting how bored he is and if he wanted to give his one arm a workout he could just be spending his time at home. Squid stood quietly nearby, jaw working on the large wad of dark gum rolling in his mouth.

“We’re lookin’ at a power hitter.” Stanley nearly jumped when Hector spoke, even if his words were directed down towards the clipboard in his hands than up at him. They still commanded attention, only because words came so few and far between. Even though their tutoring sessions Stanley did most of the talking. It wasn’t until a few weeks ago Stanley knew Hector could speak at all. And that was to correct him on being referred to as Zero. The entire B-team bestowed each other with nicknames within a week after returning from a training camp. Judging by the stats collected in Hector’s small and tight handwriting, they would have benefited from less time ragging on one another instead. “Armpit’s good when he can land one, but otherwise...” Spelling and grammar may be difficult for him, but math and numbers all but poured out of his soul. They didn’t think twice putting him in charge of keeping track of stats, for them and their opponents.

Stanley nodded, going back to rubbing polish on the metal bat X-Ray insisted on using. There was nothing different about it compared to the others, though X-Ray claimed the bat length was just slightly shorter than the rest of the regulation ones handed out to their team, which meant his swing speed was superior than the others. If only that helped his lack of control on the hit. He could pitch well but he lacked when it came to landing hits in the right places, namely not directly into the opposing team’s gloves. His claims of his large glasses allowing him to see the field better than everyone else didn’t hold as much punch as it used to.

“C’mon man, let me have a turn,” Magnet said from where he leaned against the entrance to the dug off.

“Not until i get a hit,” Armpit replied, stomping his cleats into the dirt at the plate.

Magnet rolled his eyes. “So I’m never gonna get a shot then, huh?”

“Man, shut up.”

“Why don’t you give up? You’re never gonna get it. You’re always gonna strike out, like with that Tatiana chick.”

“Man, I told you to shut up!”

Magnet said something back in Spanish, which either wasn’t the right thing to say or Armpit just didn’t understand him; either way, the two ended up chest to chest within seconds, yelling in each other’s faces. Their coach could’ve intervened if their couch wasn’t passed out in his truck in the back parking lot. They didn’t have to check on him to see if that were actually they case, he was a coach in name only. The A-Team got the dedicated coach. The A-Team got everything, the better bus, the better jerseys, the better equipment, the school’s respect.

And the attention. Not that Stanley particularly wanted attention, he wouldn’t know what to do with it if he ever got it. People looked through him or past him so often it still surprised him if a teacher called on him in class. And attention from girls? That was a pipe dream. Besides, he didn’t even know what to do if one ever said ‘hi’ to him. They’d have to know he existed first.

“Bro, I’m takin’ a break,” Squid said, walking past X-Ray towards the stands. He spat out a long, thin stream of dark liquid as he went, the bulge in his cheek bouncing. X-Ray also left the mound, heading straight for Armpit and Magnet. Zigzag and Barfbag remained in the outfield but Twitch took off running, diving nearly headfirst into his bag once off the field to grab some sort of tubed candy. Not that he needed the extra energy.

“What do you think?” Hector’s large eyes bored into Stanley.

Stanley didn’t have a chance to ask about what—perhaps if they should forfeit the season before it even started?—when vibrating rumbles against the metal bleachers grabbed his attention and his breath lodged in his chest when he realized Mickey had descended and now stood nearby. She leaned against the fence, extending a gatorade in Squid’s direction, a half-open backpack hung off the crook of her elbow.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” he stated. The bite to his words softened a little due to the tiniest hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth when he took the bottle. He downed half of the bright blue liquid in two gulps.

“It’s not babysitting when you’re waiting on your ride,” she said.

Squid brushed the liquid running down his chin off with the back of his arm. “Speaking of, I gotta drop Zig off on the way back. That cool?”

“Fine. As long as he keeps his shoes on this time.”

“My car, my rules.”

Her head tilted back, amplifying her anguish. “Dude, I’m not drowning in boy stink again!”

Squid shrugged. “Open a window.”

“Your windows stick.”

“Well I’m sorry it’s not a horse-drawn carriage, Princess.”

“It’d smell better.”

A wicked gleam appeared in his eye. “Let’s compare.” Despite her shriek of protest, Squid lifted his arm and pulled Mickey’s face into the pit. “Yeah, get right up in there.”

“Oh my god, you’re so gross!”

Squid chuckled as she squirmed free, taking another big swig of gatorade just as the metallic smack of a ball vibrated across the field. Twitch dropped the bat by his feet and it rolled harmlessly away as the ball sailed through the air towards Barfbag’s position in the outfield. He jumped to his feet and shuffled backwards while Hector added new numbers to the chart on the paper he’d been keeping track of. Leave it to him to take even the practices into consideration. He certainly left no stone unturned.

Stanley lifted his eyes only to nearly drop X-Ray’s bat when they landed on Mickey only to see her looking back. Her face remained blank for a second, and then she blinked and she smiled. He turned, glancing over his shoulder, only to look back and see her eyes still on him, smile growing a touch wider, enough to carve dimples in her cheeks.

Air squeezing out his lungs, Stanley forced his eyes back to the filed just in time to watch Barfbag dive for the ball and end up crashing along the ground, head over heels.

The thudding of his heart against his chest jumped up, now sparked with a different kind of fear and something told him it had everything to do with Barfbag clutching his leg and Stanley was sure it wasn’t supposed to bend like that.

#my writings #holes fanfic #inconsolable au #another au to add to my collection #they're in high school no cgl obvs #and they're all on the b-squad of their school's baseball team #stanley's the equipment manager #zero tracks stats #and the rest of d-tent and some others are the players #this was supposed to be short #oops #holes 2003 #curve ball

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donner-mathis-official · 1 year

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(HI pretend that I'm sending this from @tldconvictdatingsim) do you have any Donner headcanons or just general thoughts abt him? if so, please share🤲 I'd love to hear them!

@tldconvictdatingsim you have given me such a gift I am going to go insane now I have been thinking about this through an entire day of airline hell.

First of all, I see Donner as being the youngest known Long Dark character. I usually put his age somewhere between 19 and 23 (Jace is a grad student, so she’s probably in her mid to late twenties). He’s got Issues, and doesn’t know how to feel about his dad coming to bust him out. I also think that pre-solitary Donner and any Donner we would see in the game’s time span are almost entirely different people. I won’t get into my views on prison as an institution because I don’t know enough about the Canadian penal system, but I am of the stance that solitary confinement is a form of torture. Donner is almost definitely not a new inmate at Blackrock, and has likely been in solitary for at least a few months. Even for someone who was in a good mental state going in, that would be rough. Donner definitely was not in a good mental state.

To me, Franklin’s comment that Donner is new-school, a different type of crime than Mathis, is very telling. The way I see it, Mathis is a career criminal like you see in movies and video games. I’m not sure if I would go so far as to say charismatic, but that’s certainly what he tries for. While it would be really funny if the fact that Donner is a more modern criminal meant he was a cryptobro or something, that’s definitely not it. When I was playing through it for the first time, my brain went to mass shooter pretty much immediately. Though honestly I think that what exactly he did doesn’t really matter a ton at the end of the day. I will say that I also think his trial was a huge media spectacle. He was a conventionally attractive young man who committed a major crime, and there is no small number of people who get really amped about that kind of stuff.

I think his relationship with his father is an interesting one. We know Mathis has spent a good amount of time in jail. I’d need to rewatch the cutscene where Heller and Vachon talk about Montréal, but I believe Heller refers to that incident as having occurred a few years prior. I think Mathis goes in and out of jail, and that’s sort of a blessing and a curse for Donner. On one hand, Mathis is very mercurial and explosive, meaning that when he’s angry, he’s enraged. That’s not really a good look on a parent, and it makes for a more relaxing time when the parent is not there. But also, we see that Mathis cares very deeply for his boy. He goes to nearly the end of the earth for him. So I’d imagine that, when not mad, he would be a very loving and supportive father. And while I do think that we see Mathis in a very high-strung, tense situation during the game, he strikes me as the type to find excuses to be tense, because if he slows down he might think of all the things he tries not to think about.

I think Donner’s mother is very distant if she’s present in his life at all, just because Mathis is so present, and his absence is felt so clearly that I think it just doesn’t make sense for his mother to also have that larger than life personality. Mathis likes to surround himself with followers (his in game description specifically says he likes to think of himself as a leader of men), and I don’t think he would be any different in searching for a romantic or sexual partner. So Donner’s mom really isn’t helping to blunt the effect of Mathis’s outbursts, or fill in the spaces he leaves when he’s gone. She’s at best just kind of there.

Donner’s upbringing taught him that there were two ways to get attention: either be clever and charming, or cause problems. Being charming is preferable because it doesn’t get you in trouble (and he’s seen the kind of trouble his dad gets into), but it doesn’t always work. Prior to solitary, he’s the kind of guy where most people who know him are like “but he’s so sweet!” and are horrified how he could do what he did, whatever it was. Someone particularly insightful might have seen the way he looked at people, analytical, and maybe understood a hint of what was lying beneath, but it would have been difficult. Unlike his father, I think Donner is very rigid, very put together. He saw the outbursts in his father and said “i won’t do that”, and so he’s this incredibly composed dude right up until he… isn’t.

After solitary, though, I think that changes. He loses some of the charisma, some of the ability to interact with others, but that comes with those walls coming down a bit, the tightly laced image of himself that he portrays loosening up a bit. Keeping up that kind of a front takes constant practice and adaptation and when you haven’t spoken to another person in months, you lose a lot of that. He comes across more like his dad, which I think he has really mixed feelings about. He tries to keep it together, but he can’t, and that upsets him more and makes a real nasty feedback loop.

Also I think he’s gay but super repressed and it freaks people out bc they’re like “a young man with no interest in women? That’s fucked up.”

#the long dark #tld #tld donner #abuse mention #prison mention #torture mention #shooting mention #gonna be honest here I have no idea how to tag this #oh wait hold on #long post #meta analysis #maybe?#this might be entirely incomprehensible but I spent four hours dealing with air canada’s bureaucratic horseshit this afternoon #so I really don’t have the brain power to fix it

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