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justauthoring · 4 months

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the winner takes it all.

in which, leander prewett is a prick and sebastian shows him not mess with his girl.

a/n: i truly am the queen of being late to the partyyyyyyyyyyyy (ive wanted to write for sebastian since hogwarts legacy came out but just finally got around to finally writing for him :) )

warnings: leander prewett bashing because i said so :), being drugged?

pairing: sebastian sallow x f!slytherin!reader

“I don’t need to have eyes to know you’re staring, Sebastian.”

Ominis’ rather bland comment pulls Sebastian from the spiraling thoughts that had been coursing through his mind, a blink of the eye as he shifts, turning to face his long time friend with a frown.

“I’m not staring,” Sebastian argues, voice sharper than he meant it to be. Guilt runs through him when he realizes he’s being unfairly cross with Ominis, a boy that despite all has had to deal with Sebastian’s rather cross moods as of late and in the grand scheme of things, has done so with very little complaint.

“Sorry,” Sebastian sighs after a moment of silence passes, shoulders sinking. “It’s just…”

Ominis sets his hand on Sebastian’s shoulder across the table, squeezing reassuringly. “You don’t need to explain, Sebastian. I understand,” he offers softly, voice warm with what is meant to be comfort. Sebastian, despite the hurt in his heart, does feel himself ease, even if only a little, at Ominis’ words. The boy has always been exceptionally good at understanding others and knowing what to say to help someone—something Sebastian often found he lacked in retrospect. But then again, given who Ominis was, it made complete sense for him to understand and see things other’s couldn’t (even if he lacked the actual sight to do so).

“I just worry you’ll do something rash,” Ominis adds tentatively, as if afraid of Sebastian’s reaction.

But Sebastian isn’t offended—honestly, he’s been rather scared of his own limits as of late. Especially when he was faced with that mocking grin and gaze that seemed to scream; I beat you.

It all started two days ago when, instead of meeting Sebastian in your shared common room as you normally did, you never showed up. The act was odd but Sebastian had brushed it off as a simple lack of communication, figuring you’d headed to the Great Hall ahead of him for whatever reason since Anne had assured him you weren’t in your room. Maybe you forgot to let him, he figures; the possibilities of why you’d left early were endless and it wasn’t like Sebastian wasn’t capable of walking the halls without you so he’d shrugged it off and joined Ominis and Anne instead.

It was really when he entered the Great Hall that everything went wrong.

Despite his brush off earlier, the second he was in the hall, his eyes had strained to search for you, missing the familiar and comfortable conversation he could find in you. He missed seeing your face first thing and making you laugh with one of his silly quips or light teasing, watching you stuff your face full of food because you couldn’t possibly just choose one thing and rather had to have it all and—

And all of that seemed to feel a lot worse when he finally found you and saw you sat at not only the wrong table but with Leander Prewett of all people. If that wasn’t bad enough, you were practically sitting on his lap, his arm wrapped firmly around your waist as you cuddled into his side, giggling as the boy practically fed you.

Sebastian’s feet had moved on their own, despite Anne’s worried call after him and Ominis trying to grab him (because despite not being able to see what Sebastian had, he’d known the boy long enough to know something was terribly wrong). Neither of them had mattered in that moment as Sebastian blindly made his way over to the Gryffindor table, ignoring the curious pairs of eyes that watched him, marching straight up to you and Leander. The latter lazily glanced up at him, looking entirely too smug and pleased about himself as your eyes slowly flickered over to him, blinking, before smiling; “Sebastian!”

The way you’d called his name sounded all wrong. Although you looked pleased, a bright grin on your face, your eyes weren’t sparkling with the mischief he’d come to expect from you and rather you looked dazed.

Lovesick. The word made Sebastian want to throw up.

“Can we help you, Sallow?” Leander grinned, tilting his head in mock curiosity.

Sebastian’s lips part, but he hesitates, bewildered. His eyes flicker from Leander, to you, to the grip he has on you, to the way you’re holding him. “What… what the bloody hell is this?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Leander asks, voice sickly sweet. “Y/N and I were just enjoying breakfast together, weren’t we, love?” And to add to it all, Leander presses a kiss to your cheek and what shocks Sebastian most of all is that you don’t push him away or slap him or anything—you… you respond to the kiss.

Now, it wasn’t like you hated Leander. You knew of Sebastian’s… distaste towards the boy, and that Anne and Ominis in one way or another felt the same, though just not as much. You didn’t care for the boy either, as you’ve told Sebastian plenty, but you’d told him plenty of times not to be too mean or cruel or at least, try to get along with him.

Sebastian feels like he’s going crazy—was this why? Did you want him to at least try and get along with Leander because all along you’d had a secret crush on him or something?

Had Sebastian misread everything?

The walks together every morning? The late nights spent together? The lingering touches? Longing looks? Flirts and teases and…—

“That’s right,” you grin at Leander, brushing at his bright, red hair and smiling.

“But…” Sebastian swears he sounds more pathetic than he ever has… he certainly feels it. Watching you stare at Leander with that lovesick expression, smiling and touching him and… had Sebastian just never seen it? Had he been that blind by his own emotions? “You weren’t in the common room this morning,” is what he eventually manages, though it’s rather pointless.

It was obvious where you were.

“Oh,” you call out, blinking, as if you’d just remembered—oddly, that hurts the most. That you’d… forgotten about him. “Sorry Sebastian, I had such an urge to see Leander this morning and… well, I’m glad I did. Because I was finally able to tell him of my feelings,” you smile at him, cupping his cheek. “And i’ve never been so happy to hear he returned them.”

Sebastian’s lips part, his gaze shifting to Leander who’s watching him carefully.

The glare is clear. The meaning is plain.

I win.

Thankfully Anne is flanking his side before he can make more of an embarrassment of himself, grabbing Sebastian firmly by the arm and offering you a small, albeit bewildered smile and a glare at Leander before leading Sebastian away.

It had been two days since then and you hadn’t left Leander’s side once.

The only time you were alone was in the classes you didn’t share with him, and despite the fact that Sebastian had luckily shared one of those classes with you, his hopes at finding out some sort of answer had been quickly squashed when you spent the entire class in a daze. You hadn’t paid attention to the professor at all and spent your time staring off in a blissful, oblivious smile, ever so often whispering Leander’s name under your breath.

Sebastian was heartbroken. And angry. And hurt. And everything in between.

“I want to,” Sebastian admits to Ominis as he pulls himself from the memory. But, then, he sighs. “I won’t though. If… Y/N is happy, well, I guess there’s nothing I can do about that.”

Ominis frowns. “You’re not going to fight it even a little?”

Sebastian turns to him, confused; “you just said you didn’t want me doing that.”

“I just don’t want you to do anything rash,” Ominis argues, shaking his head. “It all still feels so strange to me. I mean, had Y/N given any sort of inclination about her feelings for Leander? I certainly don’t remember her saying anything and neither does Anne.”

Sebastian pauses, “well, no… I guess not. But maybe it was because we’d been clear how we felt about him.”

“Still,” Ominis expresses, leaning forward. “It’s so sudden. She went to bed fine and then woke up that morning and she’s barely spoken two words to us since. We were once her best friends, no?”

Sebastian had been so caught up in his own hurt he hadn’t even begun to think about how Ominis and Anne must be feeling. They were your best friends just as much as they were his after all and it wasn’t just Sebastian you’d steered clear of… you’d been avoiding all three of them like they were the plague.

Sebastian sighs; “I think she’s just—”

“—She’s been poisoned!”

Both Ominis and Sebastian rear their heads back in surprise at both Anne’s words and her very sudden arrival, not to mention the loud bang that echoes as she slams the box in her hands onto the table with no care for those around. Some Slytherins nearby send her glares but she ignores them, her wide eyes strictly on both Sebastian and Ominis as she pants, out of breath.

“Anne,” Ominis calls, blinking. “What are you talking about? Who?”

“Y/N,” she all but breathes, turning to Sebastian who’s sat beside her. “Y/N’s been poisoned.”

Sebastian’s brows furrowed; “what the bloody hell are you talking about?”

“Look,” she calls, pushing the box in her hands forward. Sebastian eyes it as she takes the lid off, taking in the red and gold wrapping paper, before eyeing the wrapped piece of chocolate Anne pulls out of it.

Sebastian stares; “it’s chocolate.”

Anne huffs, exasperated. “It’s laced,” she explains, pushing it to Sebastian’s face. “Smell it.”

Completely baffled but unable to resist with the way Anne is shoving the chocolate in his face, Sebastian does as he’s told. Leaning forward, he takes a small whiff, almost immediately frowning in confusion when he does; “it smells like… Y/N.”

For a moment, Anne pauses; “well, that fits,” she laughs, before pulling the chocolate closer to her. “It smells different to me. It smells like—” but she hastily cuts herself off, growing red in the cheeks as her eyes flicker over to Ominis.

A moment passes.

“Okay…” Ominis finally sighs, probably the most confused. “But what does this have to do with Y/N being—” He halts, eyes widening. “Amortentia!”

Anne grins; “exactly.”

“What?” Sebastian cries.

“I found these chocolates on Y/N’s bed,” Anne explains, “with a note attached, signed by Leander.”

The cogs in Sebastian’s mind slowly click together.

“He… he drugged her!” he calls out in disbelief, feeling a new wave of rage flood through him. His eyes snap back to his right, where he’d been staring before, where you are, coddled up next to Leander as he smiles sickly down at you, touching you, kissing you. “I’m gonna kill him.”

Anne is quick to grab onto him, “no.” And at the bewildered look he sends her, she frowns. “We need to get her to Blainey. She’s the only one who can heal Y/N and then the school will deal with him.”

Sebastian wants to argue but despite the anger radiating through him, he knows his sister is right.

Your head hurts as you blink away, the bright light above your head causing you to moan in dejection, confused.

Where were you?

Pressing a hand to your face, you try to block the light, using your other hand to push yourself up, slowly, since your whole body hurts in a dull ache everywhere. It takes you a moment to realize you’re in the hospital wing, recognizing the startling white of the room, before a set of hands are falling on you, pulling your attention to your left.

You gasp, panicked, until you see a familiar pair of warm brown eyes staring back at you in concern.

“Sebastian…” You mumble, voice coarse.

He shakes his head at you; “don’t push yourself.” He urges gently, his hand on your back as the other reaches behind you, helping prop you up with your pillows. You let him, still confused, as you glance around the room.

“How… How did I get here?” You asked, not remembering how you ended up here or why… actually, everything feels like a dull blur. The last thing you clearly remember is coming to your dorm after a long day of classes, surprised to see a box of chocolates on your bed and they’d been from… Leander!

Your eyes snap to Sebastian; “Sebastian! I think… I think I may have been poisoned by—”

“Leander Prewett,” Sebastian cuts in, face darkening as he nods at you. “Yes, well, Y/N…”

“You were given the love potion, my dear,” Blainey calls out, stepping into your view with a sheet of paper in her hands, eyes slowly flickering to meet your own with a worried frown. “Amortentia,” she nods, lips pursed. “Thanks to this young man, I was able to give you the remedy rather quickly but it looks like you were drugged for at least a couple days. Your body aches because of the antidote, so I’d like to keep you for a few hours just to make sure everything is alright but overall, there should be no lasting effects.”

Stunned, you let her words register.

Letting your hands fall numbly to your lap, you stare at them.

“Y/N?” Sebastian calls out quietly, pulling your eyes on him as he glances at you in concern. “Are you…?” his words trail, not really sure how to gauge the look on your face.

“I’m alright,” you whisper, “just… embarrassed.”

Sebastian shakes his head; “it’s not your fault—”

The door slamming open catches both of your attention, and your eyes widen when Leander comes storming into the room. The concerned look on his face is quickly replaced with rage when he sees Sebastian at your side, and Leander wastes no time; “just what are you doing—”

But Leander never gets to finish what he’s saying because in the next second Sebastian’s fist is colliding with his cheek, hard, and knocking him off his feet and straight into the ground. Nurse Blainey lets out a cry in surprise as you jump, body tensing as your eyes flicker from Leander to Sebastian, but you’re not afraid. At least not of Sebastian. Rather, his actions fill you with an odd warmth.

“I normally wouldn’t send you straight to detention for that, Mr. Sallow,” Professor Weasley’s voice rings out as she makes her way inside the room, and your eyes widen when you see Ominis and Anne trailing closely behind her. “But given the circumstances, I guess I’ll let such violence pass this once. Just don’t let it happen again, Mr. Sallow.”

Still breathing heavily, Sebastian takes a step back, his eyes easing when he turns to look at the professor. “You got it, Professor Weasley.”

“Now, Mr. Prewett,” Weasley’s voice calls out and the boy jumps as her steely eyes fall on him, scrambling to his feet as he looks around at everyone. “I believe you and I need to have a long chat.”

“B-But—” Leander sounds absolutely pathetic, his eyes falling on you as you simply glare at him, arms crossed over your chest, before falling on Sebastian who grins at him widely.

I win.

“Now, Mr. Prewett.”

Leander all but skulks out behind Weasley.

The second he’s gone, Anne rushes to your side, taking your hands in hers. “I was so worried when you started acting like a lovesick fool for Prewett of all people,” she cries, shaking her head as your cheeks burn, thinking of all the embarrassing things you must’ve been doing for the past few days. “I’m so glad none of it was real.”

Letting out a light laugh, you rub at the back of your neck; “I imagine I embarrassed myself quite a bit, huh?”

“A little,” Ominis says honestly, grimacing. “But it wasn’t your fault and the school is sure to know that when Leander is expelled for using a potion on you like that.”

His words bring comfort, even if a little.

“Y/N must be tired, guys,” Sebastian calls out after a moment. “Let’s leave her to rest.”

Ominis nods, offering you a small squeeze on the shoulder before pulling Anne with him who just grins at her brother; “I trust you’ll take good care of her for me though, won’t you, brother?”

Sebastian’s cheeks burn red and you turn away, but he doesn't argue.

Once Anne and Ominis have left, Sebastian returns to the seat he’d been in beside your bed, Blainey having left to give the both of you a bit of space. There’s a silence that swallows the both of you, and then, slowly, you let your hand fall on his.

“I’m sorry.”

Sebastian blinks, turning to you. “Why are you…”

You bite your lip, looking at your lap, cheeks flushed. “Whatever I did… I know Ominis said it already, but really, none of it was me… you know that, right?”

Sebastian flips his hand, taking yours in his and squeezing. “You have no idea how reassuring that is to hear.”

Your eyes snap to his, lips parting.

He shakes his head. “Even when Anne discovered you’d been drugged, there was still a part of me that… I–I guess, it’s just… seeing you act that way with him, kissing and holding and-and being with him like that… It made me terribly uncomfortable.”

You shift, leaning closer to him; “just uncomfortable?”

“Jealous.”

He glances up at you, and you meet his eyes, hand still in his as your free hand reaches forward, daring yourself to brush your fingers through his curls. Sebastian lets you, eyes watching you, before suddenly he’s leaning forward and then his lips are on yours, soft and warm albeit nervous, pulling away too soon as your lips part and you stare back at him.

“Incredibly jealous.”

You smile softly, “I didn’t mean any of it.” You whisper, emphasizing the words. “I didn't mean any of it with him because I wanted it to be with you, Sebastian.”

He grins, his face easing for the first time since you’d woken up and the sight of it is enough to fill you with warmth.

Then, Sebastian’s lip part and he’s grinning a little too widely; “that’s a relief because it was almost embarrassing for me to see you fawning over—”

You cut him off with a sharp slap to his shoulder, one he gasps in response to, holding the offended spot but the grin never fades from his lips as he smirks over at you.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”And of course, his eyes sparkle with glee; “nope.”

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian x reader #ominis gaunt #anne sallow

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gffa · 8 months

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Both Kanan and Ahsoka are Jedi of the prequel era, they were both raised in the Temple and by other prequels era Jedi, they both lived through the Clone Wars and they both still miss and trust Jedi like Obi-Wan and Yoda. It's really fascinating to think about because these are two Jedi (or close enough, in Ahsoka's case) who have had to adapt to a galaxy where the demands of the galaxy are different on them, they have to hide who they are, they have to be more ruthless, but they also have to stick to the values that they were taught as children, because you can't be a Jedi and only think about yourself, the Force just doesn't work that way. For Ahsoka, it's important because she never hated the Jedi Order--she loves them, they're her family, she looks back and still sees Obi-Wan and Yoda as figures who so, so often had the answers she needed. She's older, she knows they're not perfect, they're fallible in the way all people are, but there's still a deep well of love there, a deep respect for who they were and what they taught her. She loves Yoda and Obi-Wan. For Kanan, despite so much of his path as a Jedi being forged in this crueler galaxy, he still turns to the wisdom of the prequels Jedi that he grew up with. When he needs an answer he can't figure out for himself, his own suggestion is to go to Master Yoda and ask him for help, because he still believes in Yoda's wisdom and help. Both Kanan and Ahsoka often get propped up as Jedi who are "true" Jedi, who realized how terrible the old Jedi Order was, but when you actually watch their scenes, they both love the old Jedi Order and still turn to those values and those teachers for advice. Kanan's teachings for Ezra are modified somewhat to fit the circumstances they find themselves in (they have no community to fall back on for help, they have to take a lot more risks because stakes are so much higher, etc.) but they're still firmly rooted in, "Well, what Master Yoda used to say was..." or "When I was your age...." and Ahsoka's voice is so fond when she speaks of how they had answers for her. Not just "seemed to" have answers for them, but did have answers. Anyway, AHSOKA AND KANAN LOVE THEIR FAMILY AND WOULD WANT THE JEDI OF OLD TO BE PROUD OF THEM AND HOPE THEY'RE HONORING THEIR LEGACY.

#lumi.txt #star wars #ahsoka tano #kanan jarrus #jedi order #meta

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dark-and-kawaii · 2 months

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Chaos

Raphael & His Daughter

⋆˙⟡♡ Sunmary: Raphael’s daughter causes chaos through the house, much to Raphael’s dismay.

⋆˙⟡♡ Notes: This is a little gift for a very lovely person, @octarinecat xoxo I hope this puts a smile on your face love and that you feel better ♡

⋆˙⟡♡ Dadphael

Prt 1. - Prt 2. - Impsy

His daughter, the heart of the house, darted through the grand halls with Impsy at her heels. As they played their little game, she collided with one of her father’s prized golden statues, a self portrait, no less.

The statue wobbled perilously before succumbing to gravity, setting off a catastrophic cascade of falling pedestals and statues, each one toppling into the next with the precision of a rehearsed performance…

Frozen in the midst of the chaos, his daughter could only muster a, "uh oh..."

Impsy quipped, "Nice knowing ya, kid. There's not enough of your mother in you to sweet talk your way out of this one..."

The ominous silence that followed was broken by the heavy footsteps of Raphael emerging from his boudoir. His eyes swept over the scene of destruction, the line of his fallen statues a testament to the chaos that had unfolded in his absence. His gaze landed on the two culprits.

With a silent accusation, she slowly extended a finger toward Impsy.

"I know you aren't pointing that little thing at me, girl."

Raphael's presence loomed over them, his composure a thin veneer over the rising tide of his displeasure. "Chaos in this house is not something I will abide, even if caused by you," his voice controlled but edged with anger.

Impsy, undeterred by the gravity of the situation, tried to interject. "Oh come now, Raph, can't you see? She did you a favor, the things were gaudy!"

Raphael's eyes narrowed, and without raising his voice, he uttered a single, resonant word, "Enough." With a snap of his fingers, Impsy vanished, banished from the scene.

Turning back to his daughter, Raphael's scowl deepened. "I've given you free will when running through this house, yet you still wish to act like a little tyrant? Your actions have consequences, and it is high time you learn what that means." The disappointment in his voice was perhaps more cutting than any punishment he could devise.

As the echoes of Raphael's condemnation faded, the silence held a weight of its own. His daughter, his little treasure, felt a pang of guilt heavier than any of the golden statues that lay in ruin around her. Her eyes, so often aglow with joy, now shimmered with the sheen of unshed tears.

"Father, I..." her voice was a mere whisper, a stark contrast to the earlier clatter of her play. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

Raphael's features softened marginally as he took in the sight of his daughter's remorse. The anger that had been so near the surface was now slowly fading with her genuine regret. He knelt down to her level, the ruler of the house not too proud to meet his child eye to eye.

"Actions, my child, come with consequences," he started, his voice gentler now. "But the intention behind the action also matters. You did not mean to cause this damage, and that, at least, is a start."

He sighed, surveying the disarray before him. He often wonders if the pursuit of legacy through an heir is worth the sacrifice of peace and quiet. But then…

She wrapped her arms around his waist in a tight embrace, her small form seeking forgiveness in the only way she knew how.

Raphael felt the tension leave his body as he returned the embrace. This little child of his, though chaotic at times, was nothing but loyal to him.

And in that embrace, he found his answer.

His little treasure, his daughter… When the time came, she would help him rule well. Raphael realized that, despite the toppled statues and the occasional chaos, having an heir, having her as a loyal heir was indeed worth his time.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #raphael the cambion #dadphael #raphael x reader #raphael x tav

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twi-liight · 8 months

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Hello gorgeous! I love the way you write Astarion :) could I please request a fic where the reader (female or non-binary your choice!) has a nightmare and comes to our favorite vampire for comfort? Love you work, I totally understand if this doesn’t spark inspiration!

Phantom Heartache ❣

Brave, sad Alfira. All she yearned for was to carry Lihala's legacy to Baldur's Gate, but thanks to the Dark Urge, the furthest she went was to Tav's camp. That was all she could ever amount to. Slay a thousand enemies. Be pierced by a million blades. Nothing ever compares to the pain of her loss at their hands. ❥ DarkUrge!Tav spoilers for Act 1. ❥ Astarion/Tav. ❥ They/them pronouns for Tav. ❥ Tav is the nickname for the oc/reader insert. Their real name is up to you!

At the crest of their slumber, when inky tendrils drag them gently into the arms of deep sleep, Tav comes home to her.

Dreams cannot fool them easily. Too many have come and gone with promises of power and blood for them to dismiss them as simple yearnings of the mind when they are fast asleep. They know, on a shallow, muted level that this is a dream, that this isn't reality. That none of this is real and it doesn't mean anything.

But there Alfira stands, nothing like the day she left this world. Her purple locks drift in the waters around them. Despite the depths of the ocean, sunlight pierces through the darkness and glitters on her.

"Alfira," they croak out. They speak her name into existence and their heart splits in two.

"Tav," Alfira whispers. Her brows furrow the same way she did whenever she thought too hard. Her lips pucker and set like she's recited these words too many times before. "You have to know something. Something important. I-... Please, just listen."

When they reach out for her, she takes their hands. They wander the ocean depths with no true purpose or destination. It hurts so much. The guilt could crush them before the inevitable dooms along the horizon. It takes all of their strength to say, "I'm so sorry, Alfira."

She shakes her head. Sunbeams catch tears welling up in her ocher eyes. "I know you are. I know you." Alfira clasps their hands tight, warm and comforting, filled with assurance. "You've done so much for us. Thank you, Tav."

Silence overwhelms Tav at that moment, crushing their neck in one fell swoop. They can't breathe. It hurts, and they can't breathe.

"I'm sorry, too. For all the love you gave me that I can't repay, I'm sorry." Alfira whispers, her voice breaking in too many places. The warmth from her hands disappears, and they realize she's letting them go.

"Tav," she says one last time, their last image of her reaching for them as the distance grows wider and wider.

Tav. Tav. Tav. Tav. Tav. Tav. Tav!

"Tav!"

Astarion breaks the connection. Suddenly and all at once, they've surfaced from the waters back to reality, where air is shoveled into their drowned lungs.

All at once, faces and voices. They heave, doubling over as they push themselves upright. Nausea hits them fast and hard but they don't care. Shadowheart, Gale, Karlach, Lae'zel, Wyll - a few paces behind them, Jaheira and Halsin gaze down at her with a somber expression. Closest to them, with his hands closed around their inner elbow is Astarion.

"Tav," he says, softer this time.

Tav, Alfira chokes out. Tav. I'm so sorry.

No. "No." No, no, no, sorry for what? Come back, Alfira. What are you apologizing for, I was the one who-

The vision tightens around their skull like molten iron. The tadpole squirms, receding from the shameful memory of Alfira's corpse, defiled and destroyed. In her eyes, they see themselves.

They were her friend. And they let her die screaming and alone.

"Away," Tav breathes out. It's so weak that it's just a whittled breath, but the strength behind them gives pause to everyone around.

Astarion's hands flinch back, but by then it's too late. It's too much. Their tadpole activates a defense mechanism and power crumbles from the depths of their mind. They struggle away from their companions, roaring out, "I commanded you!"

Waves of ilithid energy break through their portcullis - Karlach audibly yelps in pain, struggling against the barrage of mental energy. "Tav-- damn it, we're trying to--" Wyll's hand lashes out to steady her, only to recede as it flies back to clutch his head in pain. "-- Help you!"

"Gale!" Shadowheart cries, nearly buckling to the floor as the full weight of Tav's prowess pours into her mind, threatening to snap it in two. "Can you-- is there a--"

They lock eyes with Gale, who shoots them a pleading look. "Enough," he begs, holding up his shaky hands as a sign of surrender. "Tav, enough. It's alright."

"It's not," they whisper. It's hard to speak when their breaths are too fast, too raggedy, too stuttered to be anything but a cornered animal floundering for air. They don't notice it. They choke on lungfuls of breaths as they wrap their arms around their waist.

"It's not," they repeat again. Something shifts in the air. Power. Arcane power snapping to Gale's fingertips. Their tadpole twists with alarm. He's trying to hurt you. He doesn't want to understand. None of them understand, they're just using you.

Gale points his finger out, aiming for something behind them.

Enraged, they reach deep into the recesses of their mind for the reservoir of power. To sink their fingertips deep in it feels so alien but familiar. Like pushing their hands into a pool of thick blood, warm and fresh.

Wait. No. No, this is not the tadpole's power. This is...

Kill them, Tav. Before they hurt you. Before you hurt them.

Like what you did to me, Alfira whispers in their ear.

Something inside them breaks into two. It shatters into pieces and pulls out everything they have been hiding; the misery, the weight, the guilt, the howling wail that rings in the air as they crumble in on themselves. Hot, wet tears run down their cheeks, and it's too much.

They can't bear it. It's too much.

"Hey hey hey hey, shh shh shh," Astarion's hands cup around their ears. The remnants of Gale's magic outline him in a misty purple. When had he gotten to them so fast? They don't know. They don't understand. "Look at me, sweetheart."

They can't. Everyone around them is looking at them like they're a stranger. Shadowheart's shell-shocked expression sends a ringing ache down their spine; she is looking at them with pity and concern and fear.

"Let them breathe," Jaheira commands. When no one moves, her voice comes out sharper. "Go! Now. Ready yourselves for a long rest and give them space. You will only make it worse for them. Astarion-"

"I can handle this," Astarion murmurs. Jaheira nods, leading the companions away from the bedrolls.

"Please," Astarion pleads, rubbing circles into their cheeks with his thumbs. "Look at me. Why the tears? You know I hate tears. It is unbecoming of you to tarnish your otherwise candid expression with that face. You go from beautiful to an ugly little duck in less than a second."

"I can't," they choke out. Sobs push in between breaths and words, and they shake their head, suddenly just as afraid as the rest of them.

"You can," he murmurs. "What are you so afraid of, darling? It's just me."

It is just Astarion.

Tentatively, they lift their eyes. When they gaze into him, they find no fear or judgment. There is no anger, either, despite what they had just done and what they were going to do. His stare is forlorn and quiet. His noble brow furrows slightly, contemplative, trying to find something in their eyes.

"There you are," he says, his voice so gentle it could have been a trick of the wind. "Tav of mine."

An aching, dull pain spreads across their chest, and their body seems to understand that the only way to relieve it is to cry. Their shoulders shake, and their lungs are sore, but it doesn't stop the biting sobs from pushing out.

"Astarion," Tav begs, hands catching his wrists and holding onto them tightly. "I hurt her, I-- hah-- hurt, Alfira-"

"I know," Astarion croons.

"I killed her."

"I know."

"She was my friend and I--"

"And you betrayed her." He kisses their knuckles tenderly. "I know. Shh, shh. Oh, gods below. I dreaded the day I'd see you cry. You know why?"

"Because I'm ugly?" They hic-sob, pathetically.

He scoffs, but it sounds oddly fond. "No." Pause. Slight amusement in his wine-red eyes. "Well, yes, in this moment, you are a travesty."

They sob.

"Oh, but don't take that the wrong way, you know I can't stand to see you so hurt. What am I supposed to do, hm? Hold you until the morning comes?" His hand guides their head to the crook of his neck, where he hides them from the rest of the world.

No prying eyes can find them, now. No judgment. No words to say about the hell that they unleashed. Into the shadows, where they're safe in his embrace, where he will keep them until they decide it is time to go.

"You know I will," he murmurs into the crown of their head. "I would hold you through it all, my love. You could become the most hateful monster, covered in the blood of the undeserving, your ledger as red as an apple..."

Astarion shuts his eyes.

"... And still, I would hold you and vow to never let go. Shed your tears for the wrongs you have committed. The blood you have spilled. I don't care. So long as are my Tav, that is all that matters."

They close their eyes, tears spilling down their cheeks. Their dreamless sleep is peaceful. It is empty.

❥ Additional links: kofi | ao3

#hello lovely <3 #thank you for your support and kind words #asks #baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x you #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 x you #baldur's gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #shadowheart #gale #wyll #karlach #halsin #jaheira #lae'zel #bg3

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annabelle--cane · 3 months

Note

so I don’t have the knowledge of details that you have (complimentary) but is there anything in the computer code Colin looking into being written in German and Jonah Magnus’ buddy living in the Black Forest and finding that crypt that one time? Or is that Too far a reach?

vibrating at the speed of sound. so there are a couple of floating details around from the podcasts, the arg, and some promotional materials that may point back to germany having particular relevance. some of this is absolutely me going full pepe silvia, but there are enough threads here that I feel like it has to amount to Something.

so. germany.

archives 'verse:

-> point 1: johann von württemberg. while staying with his nephew in the schwartzwald in 1816, albrecht von closen finds an old mausoleum with the inscription "johann von württemberg" over the door, and it is guarded by a man with no eyes who nonetheless seems to be able to see. in a deep chamber well beneath the ground is johann's coffin, and the room is completely lined with books so old that they'd all rotted through and fused together, the marble shelves they're placed on having little carvings of open eyes all along them. the only two objects in a good state are an illuminated manuscript in arabic that had been kept apart from the rest of the books, and a gold coin with an engraving of a young man with flowing hair, the initials "JW," the year 1279, and the words "für die stille" (google translate tells me that’s “for the silence”). albrecht asks around for any information about johann because the name is unfamiliar despite his quite good knowledge about local history and nobles, and someone says they remember him being called "ulrich's bastard," likely referring to ulrich the i or ii, two counts of württemberg from the 1200s. with that information, in the present day jon is able to find some historical records that point to ulrich i having a son out of wedlock in 1255 who was rumored to keep the company of witches.

-> point 2: the von closens. it seems that a servant nicked the coin albrecht found before he could go home with it, and that was probably for the best for albrecht, because that servant Died Badly from what was ruled to be an animal attack. albrecht did take the book with him, however, and presumably went on to show it to jonah magnus. he then must have gone back for the rest of the rotten books at some point, though, because when doctor jonathan fanshawe visits his estate in 1831, albrecht has a full library of recently re-bound books that he tells fanshawe he got from the tomb, and owning them has done terrible beholding-esque things to him. fanshawe, in his capacity as a doctor, says they should return the books for albrecht's health, and they do so, but just as the last book is returned, albrecht dies, and fanshawe realizes that all the books were blank and finds out that jonah arranged to have them all swapped out by the book binder. when fanshawe performs an autopsy on albrecht's body, all of his insides are covered in eyes.

in his statement from 1816, albrecht says he and his wife carla have been unable to conceive, though in 1831 fanshawe mentions that all of albrecht's sons were away at school when he came to visit. not something that's impossible, they could have managed to have children shortly after 1816, but it does make me raise an eyebrow. magically blessed fertility? dimension shenanigans? fanshawe does mention a tree being burned on the von closen estate that feels remarkably similar to the tree on hilltop road.

anyway, wilhelm, albrecht's nephew, has some children, and the family stays in germany for about another century, but one branch eventually moves to england, and their descendants include mary and gerard keay. according to gerry, mary was big into mythologizing about the von closens and really tried to get him to continue her idea of a legacy for the family, but he thought most of what she said was made up.

protocol 'verse:

-> point 3: colin's comment about source code being written in german. nothing much to explain here, just that it's Weird that source code for some Weird bespoke program for the british civil service is written in german, right? Bit Odd.

-> point 4: the usenet forum. okay so I'm an avatar of the idiot and only read up about the arg after it was already over and don't know anything about code and whatnot, but as best as I can understand: on the OIAR's official website, if you try to submit a form, you get an error message, and if you look into the source code for the error then you find Some piece of code with an IP address shaped hole in it, and there's an IP address hidden in an OIAR advertising video, so you put that IP address into the code, do something else (???), and then find yourself at an old defunct usenet forum from the 90s/00s for people who left east germany.

(it is from here that I got too verbose for my own good, so the rest is under a cut)

notable things about the forum: most of it is pretty normal, and, naturally, it was pretty much all in german, massive shoutout to everyone who helped to translate all 21k words of it. there are threads about finding work in various countries, weird cultural idiosyncrasies, resources, reminiscing about berlin, yknow, normal stuff. the mod “SandmannS” (translates to exactly what it looks like) ran the forum with a bit of an iron fist, which I guess makes sense, it’s the kind of forum that attracted people who wanted to say some heinous stuff and he was really serious about not letting anyone solicit personal information, but he was also kind of overzealous about keeping threads on topic and locking any discussions that he thought were “pointless.” he was eventually strongarmed into opening a thread for cat pictures, and that’s as good an opening as any to talk about some of the Weird things about the forum.

one of the cat photos was posted in february 1994 and shows a cat standing in front of the thames, with what looks like the completed o2 arena in full view (great choice of a red flag landmark to include @ whoever chose it. nice big landmark that was called “the millennium dome” when it first opened, a handy reminder that it was made to celebrate the turn of the millennium and construction wouldn't even have started in 1994). several comments across the threads are dated as earlier than the comments they’re replying to, one person references the content of the phantom menace a few months before its release, and several comments were somehow made after the mod locked the forum in dec 2001/jan 2002.

and okay. the forum locking. I’m going to condense this to all hell because this is already [redacted] words long but basically, “einsamernarr” (translation: lonely fool) was an active user of the forum with a big conspiratorial streak, real paranoid about “the government” spying on him, always getting warnings and just dodging getting banned just before going too far, yknow, a Type of Guy. in december 2001, he mentions in a book rec thread that he was trolling through some databases and found a bunch of old records and he can’t tell if they’re fictional or not, but he’d like to share them if he can. about five days later, he starts posting in several threads that he did something really dumb, people are after him, the meetup they were planning is not safe and this forum is being watched, people should look for him if he doesn’t come back within a week, and he’ll try to leave some info behind for them just in case. a few days later, a couple of people post worried messages asking if anyone’s heard from einsamernarr and that they’ve been getting weird cryptic emails about an “institute” from him, and sandmanns says that he did everything he could, but he can’t keep doing this, and he closes the forum.

marina “avatar of the idiot” annabelle--cane showing my face here again, I don’t know how this next part happened, but it’s possible to retrieve the email einsamernarr sent, open it with a password found in colin’s code repository (that’s a whole ‘nother thing), and find inside: 1. some pictures of bonzobucks, 2. a weird pdf of an old german book on alchemy with a lot of symbols and codes in it, and 3. a spreadsheet of the names, ages, and test results of the hundreds of children the protocol 'verse magnus institute was performing psych studies on. which finally brings us to our next, much shorter section.

-> point 5: “gerard kaey” (sic). gerry’s name is on that spreadsheet, which I think is relevant to this conversation given mary’s obsession with the von closen legacy. archives ‘verse mary keay resented the magnus institute for what she felt it stood for comparison to what she felt she stood for; she saw jonah magnus as a thief who stole away her family’s honor, so what might be different about the protocol ‘verse situation? why would mary keay in this universe send her only heir to go get scrutinized by a bunch of self-important academics?

-> point 6: the berlin dead drop. more arg stuff, we’re getting into things that I’m sure probably have more to be said about them than I’m capable of saying, but from some clues in a picture of cookbooks that einsamermarr posted in the cat pictures thread of the usenet forum to annoy the mod, and a voicemail on the OIAR’s telephone line, people found out the date and location of the first irl arg event, and it was for somewhere in berlin. a newspaper covered in alchemical symbols was found in a bookshop, and from that people somehow derived coordinates, and those coordinates lead to the last irl event where a battered old video tape with a video of a creepy ritual was found (note: the tape was too badly damaged, so another copy of the video came from an arg affiliated tumblr account).

-> point 7: klaus.xls. from a floppy disk found in the second irl arg event, klaus.xls is a spreadsheet originally written in german with about 100 dates and times of potentially paranormal sightings. a lot of it is corrupted and unreadable, but there are columns for category, rank, “TSHU,” and notes. translated into english, notes sections that aren’t corrupted say things like “mr. b,” “war people,” “avoid, “unhappy child,” “ink,” “lady m,” “cats lol,” and “I hate witches.”

-> point 8: albertus magnus and the philosopher’s stone. right, this is where I go a bit off the rails, and credit to this post by @misfitmagpie for discovering some of this. first, nearly every official visual we’ve had for tmagp has been covered in alchemy symbols. they’re all over the logo, they’re all over the in-universe OIAR and magnus institute websites, they highlighted hints in the arg, they’re everywhere, and the end goal of alchemy was the pursuit of the mythical philosopher’s stone, a substance that could turn base metals into gold and produce an elixir for eternal life. the tmagp logo/the coat of arms for the OIAR is centered around an upside down alchemical symbol for the philosopher’s stone, a circle in a square in a triangle in a larger circle.

albertus magnus (aka saint albert the great) was a bavarian philosopher and scientist who did some writing on alchemy and has been widely rumored to secretly have been a master alchemist, mainly as a result of a lot of people attaching his name to writings about alchemy that he never touched. some have credited him as discovering the actual philosopher’s stone, and while he never made that claim in any way that survives, he did record that he’d witnessed seeing base metals be turned into gold. something of which to take note is that he didn’t go by the name “magnus” during his life, that was appended to him posthumously, it’s just another way of calling him “the great” with a fancy latin word, but it does kind of remind me of that edmond “reimer” halley -> maxwell rayner thing from mag 140. if you discovered the elixir of life and became immortal, you would probably need to nab a new identity at some point, and if people have already been nicknaming you “albert the great,” well…

anyway, the thing that’s really cemented his potential relevance in my mind is his birth and death dates: c. 1200-1280, lining up perfectly with the time period of johann von württemberg (thought we’d moved on from him, didn’t you?). I know magnus timelines are notoriously a bit unruly, especially the further back into the past we get, but it’s scratching at my brain. besides that, I think it would be a really cool move if the magnus this podcast is named for was a completely different person than the magnus the last podcast was named for.

if albertus magnus isn’t directly relevant then I’ve got another theory about the title that I’ll be posting in a hot minute, but it’s not germany related and this ask is already long enough.

just, to sum up, a lot of protocol content so far has been germany-adjacent, and even if nothing more comes of it I think there are a lot of interesting threads here to speculate about.

#tmagp #answered #anons #tmagp spoilers

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iliektehhaxs · 10 months

Text

Words Unspoken, Actions Taken

Pairing: Clive Rosfield/Reader (AFAB, female pronouns. no Y/N) Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors DNI Word Count: 1.9k words Summary: After Clive returns from another mission battered and bruised you finally give him a piece of your mind. He doesn't take too kindly to your words. Read on AO3! Warnings: Dom! Clive, angry sex, elements of degradation, p in v actions, unprotected sex, fluff (if you squint) Author's Note: Hey y'all, the world was sorely lacking in Clive fics, so I'm doing my part to change that. I love this depressed man and his slutty little waist too much to NOT write for him. Spoilers for a certain character's death, so if you haven't gotten that far, don't read ahead. Update: There's a sequel now!

You’re not surprised you ended up like this, quite the opposite in fact. Clive Rosfield, also known as Cid, your faithful leader and the very symbol of hope to every lost soul who found their way under his wing. A beacon to guide them towards a better life, and to change the world for the better. The very same leader who regularly risked his life for the greater good, much to your dismay, without so much as any concern to himself.

He was already somewhat of an errand boy when you had first met him, but after Cid died it grew tenfold. The hideaway, the resistance, the increase of bearer violence, it was all too much. He told you as much after you found him one night drinking alone in his room, a hushed confession under the cover of night that without you he wouldn’t have made it this far and you’d be a liar if the memory didn’t make you feel some kind of way. Despite that, he kept on shouldering more and more responsibility, to the point that it was commonplace to have him leave for days on end, returning one day only to be gone the next. It was concerning to the other residents, but most of all to you.

You admired his efforts, truly. It was noble, but eventually it would catch up to him. You tried to tell him as much, but he would just wave you away and reassure you that he can handle himself.

You’ve seen him fight, you’re well aware of his talents with a blade, but all the training in the world can’t substitute a good night's rest. What happens if he worked himself to death, found himself behind enemy lines and never returned?

You couldn’t stand to think about it. You worried about him, and in your worry you found yourself growing resentful of his apparent ignorance towards his own well-being. But you held your tongue, forced to keep your emotions to yourself because if nothing else, having him worry about you would only serve to be another item on his long list of responsibilities. You tried, you really did. And then he came back from a mission beaten to hell. Tarja, talented as she was, only barely brought him back from the brink. He was in bed rest for weeks before he was allowed to leave, and in that time your resentment grew to anger. Was it immature? Yes. Did you care? Not particularly. Your attitude change was obvious to anyone in the Hideaway, most of all to Clive, but he figured you were just in a mood, maybe something had happened while he was recovering. In any case, you two were close, you would tell him eventually. It was only after he returned from his latest life-threatening mission that he realized that you were mad at him. Again, you tried to hold yourself back, but when you saw how ignorant he was you couldn’t take it anymore. Words were said, some of which came from a place of genuine care. The others, however… “You’re an idiot if you think I’m going to stand by and watch you kill yourself—” You hissed at him, pacing around the floor of his office. It was there the two of you stood, a back and forth with no end. “I need to carry on his name, his legacy—” He raises his voice before stopping himself to take a shaky breath. “I need to live up to his dream. Don’t you understand that?” “Oh I understand plenty,” You fume. You’re not quite sure where this malice came from, but it was all consuming, ever burning. “Don’t you know that I—we need you here? Alive?” He shakes his head and he says something about his duty and his obligations and you’re completely over it, obviously anything you say is going in one ear and out the other. “Do you think Cid would want you to work yourself to death?” You ask, concern written on your face. “Do you think he’d be proud to see you take no care to yourself?” He doesn’t even look at you anymore, his head bowed. “If it’s for the good of the cause—” You interrupt him before he can say another word. “If you genuinely believe that then you’ll end up dead, and his sacrifice would’ve been for nothing.” The silence that follows is deafening. His footsteps ring heavy in your ears, moving closer and closer. “What did you just say?” The anger in his voice is apparent. You’ve never seen him like this before, a rage normally reserved for his enemies directed towards you.

You probably should’ve stopped, but you didn’t. “I said, if you truly believe that then you’re wasting the chance Cid gave you.” You look up at him unwavering, consequences be damned. He needed to hear this. Clive stood unmoving, an unknown emotion swirling in those vibrant blue eyes of his. “Be careful of what you say next.” And then it broke. The dam holding everything you held back before shattering into pieces and before you knew it you were awash with emotion. “You’re a bastard Clive, if you truly can’t see how you’re hurting the people around you by acting like a complete fucking idiot, then you don’t deserve his legacy or his name.” You wanted him to get mad, wanted him to feel the way you’ve felt for a while now. What happens next is a blur, limbs entangled and skin exposed, but based on how fast the front of your body met the desk, you met your goal. “Couldn’t just keep your mouth shut, fuck—,” He hisses above you, but you’re too far gone to care. You have been for a while, too lost in the feeling of his hands against your hips, his cock dragging against you deliciously. “Just had to keep testing me—” It’s almost embarrassing how easily you let him have his way with you. Your body completely under his control, every gasp of his name only serving to feed his ego, encouraging him to go faster, harder, more, more, more—

“Clive—!” “That’s right, say my fucking name—” If the squeaking of the old wooden desk he’s taken you on wasn’t already a sign of what was happening in the room, the shameless moans escaping your lips would be. “Let the entire hideaway know whose cock you’re begging for.”

You do, without any thought to how loud you may be.

The force of his thrusts are brutal against your backside, your body aching and yet you can’t stop moving, desperately trying to meet his every thrust. It’s hopeless, but he seems to enjoy your attempts at least, a wicked chuckle escaping him as he watches your body move on his own. “Is this what you wanted, hm? To be used like a pleasure girl?” His body is pressed against your back now, the full weight of him blanketed against you. Your breath catches in your throat, his lips whispering absolute filth into your ear. “Upset you couldn’t have me all to yourself? Don’t worry, I’m right here.” His tone is cruel, mocking. “I’ll make sure you never have to worry again.”

He doesn’t stop moving, how could he when you sound absolutely debauched below him, a picture perfect image of sin to be molded by his own hands. He fucks you just as he fights, ferocious, unyielding, unrelenting, finding every single one of your weaknesses and taking advantage of them until you cry out that it’s too much, that you can’t take it, and doesn’t give you a moment of reprieve. A glutton of your own making. He laughs, a sound so far separated from his normal self that you almost don’t recognize it as him. “Come now darling, you were ready to spit venom at me before, where’s all that fire gone?” He breathes unevenly, a hand moving to push your head further down. He’s taunting you, dangling your own shameful display in front of your very eyes. Even if you wanted to respond you couldn’t, the sound of your hips meeting, echoing through the room proved answer enough. “Clive—fuck—please ‘m sorry—” Your body is racked with shudders, whimpering when he runs a single hand down your spine, forcing you to arch even further and have him reach that spot inside you that has you seeing stars. “What was that? I don’t think I quite heard you.” He sneers from above. You mumble into the desk, unable to bring your head up to speak. “I’m sorry, please, can’t take it, too much, pleasepleaseplease—”

A hand around your throat silences you, his lips grazing against your ear once more. “Oh no, I don’t believe that for a second.”

He lets you go, only for that same hand to grab your face, fingers pressing against your cheeks. He forces your tear-rimmed eyes to gaze at him from below, a contrast to the sinister look in his own. “Can’t take it? Too much? I don’t think that’s true—” Another hard thrust has you keening, back arching, a fog of lust clouding your brain. “—I think you’re going to take everything I give and more.” He’s right of course, and you do, graciously. Your legs threaten to give out, shaking, barely holding on, and in an act of mercy he grabs your weakened limbs with a strong hand. Practically a rag doll at this point, he lays you onto the desk, legs wrapped around his body to bring him as close as possible. You can see him in this position, see the way his brows crease and furrow every time you clench onto his cock, the pleased grin that lingers when you grab onto his arms, seeking purchase. It’s filthy. Clive doesn’t think he’s seen anything more beautiful.

To watch his advisor fall apart at his hands, to drown in waves of pleasure begging for more, please, I need more—

It’s addicting, sadistic in ways he never thought himself capable of. He can’t get enough. A painful dance of give and take. He gives pleasure and takes your very sanity with it. He takes and takes until you’ve nothing left to give, until you’re a writhing mess of slurred words and half-mumbled promises. He can barely understand you at this point, your mind far away, but he doesn’t need to. He can understand your body well enough. “Clive, please—” You gasp, nails dragging deliciously against his back. You don’t have to speak, he knows what you want before you do. Without another second of hesitation his fingers move vigorously against your sensitive nub, and if he thought you were gone before the feeling of his deft hands working against your sex send you to new heights. The choked noise that escapes you is downright heavenly. “Gods above—!”

He’d be flattered if he wasn’t so busy fucking you into next week. Sweat clings onto your skin, and for a moment he conjures up an image of an angel, the sheen highlighting you in such a way you almost seem to glow. And then he watches your eyes roll, feels your pussy clench against his cock and you fall over the edge with his name on your lips like a prayer, and thinks to himself that you’re more of a devil than a saint. Your breathing is ragged, completely spent, nearly delirious with desire.

But nearly is not enough for him.

So his hips still grind against you, and you’re far too weak to resist him, not that you would have in the first place. A give and take, and Clive was always a little greedy.

“We’re not done yet, my dear. Not by a long shot.”

#final fantasy xvi #final fantasy 16 #Clive Rosfield x reader #clive rosfield x you #Clive Rosfield smut #angry smut #dom!clive #Robo Writes #clive rosfield #your honor he's babygirl coded #final fantasy xvi smut

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writingstreetspirit · 11 months

Text

This Family Is Our Fortress

Summary: Years after the war against the sky people, your family have found peace

Pairing: Jake Sully x Fem!Na’vi!Reader

Warnings: Reader is a mom of soon to be 4, pregnancy, reference of war

Word count: 0.9k

A/N: I had a craving for something tooth achingly sweet, so a Sully family piece was born. In this Neytiri is essentially replaced by you, sorry. I love you Neytir, maybe next time. Thank you all for reading! If you enjoyed reading, please like/reblog/comment/follow to support me and to let me know if I should do more of this type of content! 🥰🫶🏻

—

You had many things that you felt grateful to Eywa for. Some where your clan - your family - the Omaticaya. For your Sa’nok (Mother) and Sempul (Father) and their love for you. For Eywa’s love for everyone and everything, for her allowance for you to to breathe and walk on her planet.

You were thankful for Jake Sully. Former human, a sky demon, who came to Pandora and learned the way of the People, and in turn becoming one. You were thankful for Turuk Makto (Shadow Rider) who brought peace to Pandora by defeating the humans, despite having worked for and been one himself. You were thankful for Jake Sully, who became your mate.

What you were the most thankful for was the blessing of your and Jake’s children. Neteyam was your first son, who was conceived just before the battle against the sky people. His birth was a beacon of hope and new beginnings, and the start of a family that would eventually become six.

Around that same time came Kiri, the sudden and unexplained daughter of Dr. Grace Augustine. Grace had been part of your life since childhood, and her tragic death was a heavy loss on the clan. But her passing would then reveal itself to not be the end of Grace’s legacy. Jake and you took Kiri in without doubt the second you knew of her existence. Sweet little Kiri, your daughter in all but blood.

After Kiri was the second and last son of yours, Lo’ak. His birth was a joy for the whole family, and a great happiness for his brother and sister that would become older siblings. With your second itan (son), you and Jake though that the family was officially complete. That was until you feel pregnant once again when Neteyam and Kiri was 7 and Lo’ak 6. You were currently almost halfway through the pregnancy, and you and Jake couldn’t be happier of your big family.

”Alright kids, it’s bath time!” Jake called out for Neteyam, Kiri and Lo’ak who were running around playing in the mud outside of the hammock. You were preparing the last of the food that you’d eat after the children had bathed.

They slowed down, Neteyam and Kiri pouting while Lo’ak full out whined at the news that playtime was over. ”But Sempul (Father)! Please, just a few more minutes?”

Jake shook his head, hands on his hips. ”Nope. Come on, food’s almost ready.”

They collectively groaned but obeyed their father, to which you smiled. With one glance at them, you realized that today Jake would need your help to bath them if you wanted the meat to still be warm when they were done. So with that you rose up onto feet and followed them down to the body of water, Kiri’s little hand creeping itself into you own.

Bath time took a little longer than usual due to the excessive amount of dirt and small sticks in-beaded in your children’s hair, but with the help of Jake you all made it back to the kelku while the food was still somewhat warm.

Dinner was as usual a time where everyone shared about their day. Lo’ak, Kiri and Neteyam did most of the talking, excitedly telling vivid stories of all the adventures they had during the day. You and Jake offered played out reactions to spur them on, asking followup questions to hear more of their excitement. That exited retelling steadily faded away to slow blinking and yawns escaping their small mouths. You smiled, getting the small ones to bed wouldn’t be hard this night.

”Lets get you all tucked in now.” Jake fondly said to the kids, and they did not complain this time. They instead nodded and rose from the floor. Kiri and Neteyam rose up their arms in request for their Sempul (Father) to carry them, which Jake did. Lo’ak looked up to you, arms asking for you to also pick him up. You did so with a coo, pressing a kiss to the boys forehead.

Jake and you carried the children to the place your family slept, cuddling up into a nest of tangled limps. It wasn’t every night that you all slept tangled up like this, what with your children growing older, but tonight was one of those night.

”Goodnight Ma’ite (My daughter).” You cooed, pressing a kiss to Kiri’s little head, which Jake copied. She smiled, murmuring a goodnight in return. You then did the same with Neteyam and Lo’ak. ”Goodnight Ma’itans (My sons).”

”Sa’nok (Mother), can you please sing?” Neteyam requested bashfully, Lo’ak going in with small pleading and Kiri nodded enthusiastically also in agreement. Jake laughed a little at the familiar request they had asked so many times before. You smiled warmly, agreeing instantly. ”Yes, Sa’nok (Mother) can sing.”

The children settled back, relaxing into their parents warm embraces as you started to sing the same lullaby that you’d sung over a thousand times by now. Barely halfway through the song, your children where peacefully asleep. Your voice faded away as you and Jake shared a loving smile.

Jake lend his neck down to kiss you softly. You hummed against his lips, as content as can be. You relaxed back against his strong shoulder, closing your eyes. Jake’s hand settled gently against your swollen stomach, where it would remain as a protective blanket for the rest of the night. ”Night, [Name], sleep well. I love you.”

”Goodnight, Ma’Jake. I love you too.” You whispered before letting yourself fall asleep, safe and happy in the arms of your family.

#avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar x reader #avatar neteyam #avatar 2009 #avatar kiri #avatar lo’ak #avatar x navi!reader #jake sully #jake sully x reader #jake sully x na'vi reader #avatar x na'vi reader #avatar x y/n #avatar jake #the sully family #the sullys #platonic sullys x reader #the sullys x reader #writingstreetspirit

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apompkwrites · 2 years

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imagine... (sibling edition) || dorm leaders

masterlist characters: riddle, leona, azul, kalim, vil, idia, malleus genre: angst contains: unhealthy sibling relationships, reader being compared to siblings, feelings of self-worth summary: a series of ideas involving the dorm leaders' possible relationship dynamics with a younger sibling. notes: so twst huh? i kinda wanna elaborate on some of these but only if you guys want it? i know it's not the normal stuff i write but twst brainrot has me good. also insp by luxaryllis :D

imagine being riddle's little sibling that becomes entirely reliant on their family's rules. you are so used to being told what to do that you never develop the skills to make decisions for yourself. you've memorized your mother's rules as well as the queen's in nrc's by heart. you live by those rules and once your brother (post overblot) tries to establish a real relationship with you, you don't know what to do.

cont. rules of a roseheart

imagine being leona's little sibling that is completely overshadowed by the two elder kingscholars. falena is highly praised for being the heir to the throne and the "most well-off kingscholar child". leona is often scolded and gossiped about being the lesser sibling, the one that shows no interest in the throne along with the ability to bring about a drought at will. and you, the last kingscholar that is scolded for not being as good as their older brother falena and for not being better than leona. all you know is comparison with no real sense of identity.

cont. the lesser kingscholar

imagine being azul's little sibling that forced themselves to grow up fast. you grew up watching your older brother hate how he looked and so you, in turn, hated how you looked. you forced yourself to grow up fast in the hopes that a) you would no longer look the way you did and b) protect your older brother from the people that bullied him relentlessly.

cont. the ashengrotto octopot

imagine being kalim's little sibling that, despite being spoiled just like the rest of your siblings, felt like you were nothing but a face in the crowd, both to kalim and your parents. not much you could do in a family with 32 children. no matter what you did, it was overshadowed by another of your siblings. you grew up believing that, whatever you did, there was always someone better than you.

cont. one of the asims

imagine being vil's little sibling that grows up despising the attention your family name gave you. you're expected to live up to your older brother's legacy, only to fall flat when they realize you lack... well, everything that he has. you try your hardest because you want to make your family proud, but no matter what it's always demeaned and you're told you won't amount to your brother's success.

cont. schoenheit stardom

imagine being idia's younger sibling that often hears how they should be more like ortho. you're told that you need to be the model child just like ortho is. and when you don't meet their expectations, you find yourself wishing that, whatever happened to ortho, happened to you instead. maybe then you could be a good child.

cont. the unwanted shroud

imagine being malleus's younger sibling that saw their brother as an untouchable figure. you grew up hearing that he was a terrifying person. he was terrifying in two ways, one being his magic and the other being his status. of course, it wasn't really your choice. it just sort of turned out that way, what with the duties he has.

cont. the royal draconias

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland angst #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader

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serpenera · 7 months

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One of the things that most irks me in the HP, and especially Snape discourse, is the misinterpretation of the meaning of the patronus. The general consensus seems to be that the shape of the patronus indicates one’s true love but that is a massive oversimplification that creates numerous inconsistencies. In other words, when we look at it like that, the patronus makes NO SENSE. Except the patronus makes PERFECT SENSE. Just let me explain.

The patronus, as we know, is a charm that repels Dementors - an anthropomorphized representation of clinical depression. Keep that in mind as this is important. You conjure it by focusing on a happy memory or should I rather say a happy thought.

Memory is the word Lupin uses when he first explains the patronus to Harry and I’d argue this is the reason why Harry initially fails at conjuring one. He remembers his first time on a broom and winning the house cup. Both happy memories to doubt but “not powerful enough” as Lupin puts it. So what makes a powerful memory?

Harry tries again and succeeds by focusing on the memory of finding out he was a wizard and would be leaving the Dursleys and going to Hogwarts. What makes this memory different than the other two is that it wasn’t just that of a fleeting moment of glee but of an event that marked a major change in Harry’s life, a change for the better. Yes, it was a moment from the PAST but one that influenced Harry’s PRESENT and FUTURE.

See, this is the key to understanding the patronus. The trick is not to remember a happy past long gone, it’s to find something in the past that gives you a reason to move forward. Anyone, who’s ever been depressed to the point of wanting to off themselves will know what I’m talking about here. And those who don’t, good for you.

Anyway, back to Harry. When he conjures his first fully corporeal patronus at the end of PoA, he thinks of going to live with Sirius. And when he uses the spell again in GoF he thinks of celebrating the end of the Tournament with Ron and Hermione. In both cases, he doesn’t even recall an event of the past but projects into the future. And note that regardless of whom or what he thinks of (and not once does he think of his dad), his patronus stays a stag. Even after his love and admiration for James falters due to the discovery of SWM, his patronus stays a stag. This is because the stag, while visually traceable back to James, does not represent James as a person but rather a concept that James himself is a representation of. The stag stands for family, legacy, and a sense of belonging. What keeps Harry moving forward despite all the obstacles is not the mere memory of having had a dad once, it’s the realization that he’s not alone in the world, that he has friends who care about him, and that he’s part of a community.

If we look at the patronus through this lens we can logically explain the shape and origin of all the major ones present in the books.

Snape is often accused of being a stalker incel and whatnot because (apparently) his doe patronus is the same as Lily’s.

First of all, did you pull that information out of your ass? ‘Cause I checked and nowhere in the book(s) does it say what shape her patronus was. The same goes for James. He was a stag animagus. We don’t know what shape his patronus was. That, assuming they both even knew the charm. Although, as Order members, they probably did. If they hadn’t learned it at school, Dumbledore or another Order member would’ve taught them.

Okay, for the sake of this argument, let’s assume that James’ patronus was in fact a stag and Lily’s was a doe and also that the animals represent them respectively. People will argue that the fact the patronuses match (they don’t actually cause they’re two different species of deer but never mind) implies they were each other’s soulmates. To back that argument they will cite Tonks’ patronus which changed into a wolf after she fell in love with Lupin. At the same time, they will argue that Snape’s doe indicates an unhealthy obsession with Lily. Can you spot the issue with this reasoning?

Snape’s and Tonks’ cases are analog: their patronuses turn into animals related to the other person. And yet in Snape’s case, it’s obsession, and in Tonks’, it’s love?

Lily/James and Tonks’ cases are opposite: Lily/James patronuses turn into animals related to themselves while Tonks’ turns into one related to her love interest. But in both cases, it’s true love?

If Snape’s obsessed with Lily then Tonks is obsessed with Lupin and Lily and James are just obsessed with themselves. Contrarily, if Tonks loves Lupin then Snape loves Lily, and Lily and James, again, just love themselves respectively. Moreover, if you follow either logic, Harry is obsessed / in love with James and Dumbledore with Fawkes.

See how none of that makes ANY SENSE whatsoever? Also, no, it’s not a plothole. Y’all are just looking at it wrong. Now let’s rewind and analyze all of these the same way we did with Harry’s at the beginning of this rant.

James’ case is very straightforward. Similarly to Harry, James finds meaning in the traditional idea of family, clan legacy, and belonging. Remember how on the train to Hogwarts he says he wants to be a Gryffindor just like his dad? That, in my opinion, is already very telling, and considering that right after school James marries the girl he decided would be the future mother of his children and promptly gets her pregnant we can easily deduce what he values and what he believes his higher purpose to be. When facing a Dementor and being consumed by despair, perhaps remembering the loss of his parents and perceived betrayal of his best friends, in order to push through he certainly focuses on his wife and especially his son.

Lily’s doe patronus has nothing to do with Snape. Or with James for that matter. Instead, it has everything to do with Harry. See, many real-life women who find themselves at the edge of despair for one reason or another declare they only push forward because of their children. I think Lily is no different. I mean, she did die trying to protect her child. So I think that facing a Dementor, she thinks of Harry. Her wish to be there for her son and protect him is what keeps her going forward despite everything. She has to be strong because she is needed and that is what her doe stands for.

The doe and the stag, somewhat complementary animals, both symbolize family-related but very different concepts. The stag carries a distinctly masculine meaning, that of the passing of legacy and prolonging the bloodline. The doe has a more feminine feel, that of nurturing and protecting.

Snape’s patronus is the same animal as Lily not because he loves her or is obsessed or even just friends with her. It’s the same because both these characters find purpose in the same thing: being needed.

While for Lily this mindset seems to stem from her motherhood, for Snape it seems to have always been there and for very a different reason. The severe neglect he experienced in his early childhood conditioned him to always seek external validation. It’s as if he couldn’t find value in himself unless someone else found it in him. This is why he was trying so hard to be useful to Lily when they first became friends. This is why he got himself groomed by the Death Eaters. This is also why he was so easily manipulated by Dumbledore.

Speaking of Dumbledore, he has to have taught Snape the patronus charm and it must have happened sometime between his defection and the Potters’ death. Now imagine what that might have looked like.

Dumbledore explains how the patronus works. Snape tries, recalling one of his happy childhood moments with Lily, and fails. He chooses another memory and fails again. Dumbledore tells him it has to be something really powerful. Snape is out of ideas, the only happy memories he has are of his childhood friendship with Lily but that friendship is over, it has been for a while, she’s married to his bully and having his child, and on top of that, she’s being targeted by Voldemort and it’s all his fault. Reminiscing their past together is nowhere near enough to fuel the patronus. Then Snape projects into the future in which thanks to him, Lily is safe, she forgives him for his past mistakes and they make up. This time he successfully conjures his trademark doe.

I imagine that, after Lily died, Snape would have had trouble producing a patronus. That would be until Dumbledore pointed out how even in death she still needed him to protect her child. He would then focus on a future in which Voldemort is defeated, Harry is safe, his debt with Lily is paid and his sins are redeemed.

Dumbledore knows that Snape’s doe patronus is related to Lily but it’s probably because he taught him the charm himself and in doing so he learned that it was thoughts and memories of her that fueled it. Not because it was (presumably, mind you) the same shape as hers.

That said, I’m firmly convinced that if Snape had survived the war he would again have had trouble producing a proper patronus, not because of any change in his feelings towards Lily but rather because with Harry safe and Voldemort gone, he’d find himself lacking a purpose. If, for example, he got himself involved with someone else, someone who would make him feel needed, he might be able to produce a patronus again but it would most certainly remain a doe.

Tonks’ patronus is an interesting one because it actually changes its shape in the course of the narrative. We know it became a wolf after Tonks fell in love with and started dating Lupin.

Yes, it’d be easy to assume that the wolf represents the character whose name is literally Wolfy McWolf and who’s also a werewolf but that would be both shallow and inaccurate.

Tonks’ wolf, not unlike Lily and James’ stag and dear, is symbolically tied to the concept of family and friendship. We don’t know what drove Tonks forward before she became involved with Lupin but we can easily deduce that what drives her afterward is the thought of being with him. When she conjures her patronus, she probably thinks of a future in which they have a proper relationship or perhaps start a family. When Snape makes a dab at her patronus he isn’t just being mean. Knowing Lupin, he probably expects him not to take responsibility for his actions towards Tonks and wiggle out of the relationship the moment things get a little bit too serious for his liking. In saying her patronus is weak he’s trying to warn her not to put her faith in Lupin.

In the end, I’d like to mention Dumbledore’s patronus. Just like a phoenix is reborn from its ashes, Dumbledore rises up from the pit of his troubled youth. When in the vicinity of a Dementor, he must be plagued by thoughts of his misplaced aspirations, of Ariana’s death, and his fall out with Grindelwald. The thought I believe he focuses on in those moments is that of having rehabilitated himself in the eyes of society, and having ultimately become a champion of the light.

#harry potter meta #Patronus meta #Patronus

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inamindfarfaraway · 6 months

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The Morality of Mabel and Dipper Pines

Warning: Dipper Levels of Overanalysis Ahead

I’d like to make it clear at the start that I love both of these characters equally and they’re both good people, just in different ways. But I’ve seen a lot of criticism of Mabel’s flaws and less of Dipper’s, so I’d like to contribute to the discussion of their respective characters by exploring a divide between them I haven’t seen talked about much.

Mabel really wants to be a moral person. She places a lot of intrinsic worth in the concepts of ethics, like kindness and fairness and the wellbeing of others. Being a bad person could be considered her worst fear. It’s definitely up there with her other greatest fears of losing her relationship with Dipper and the inevitability of change, and those fears developed later largely in response to Ford and the baggage he brought with him.

Dipper just doesn’t care about that as much. That isn’t to say he’s a bad person! He's compassionate, selfless, brave and unquestionably heroic by the end of the show. They both are. But it sticks out to me how differently they think about ethics. For example, Dipper literally kills Wax Sherlock Holmes, while Mabel is so averse to hurting someone’s feelings that she can’t bear to break out of a false, one-sided relationship with Gideon until Dipper's life is at stake. You see what I’m getting at here? But I have more evidence! Buckle up, this is gonna get long.

Compare how they treat their rivals, Pacifica and Robbie. These are ordinary humans with no real authority over them who, age and class gaps aside, they're basically on even footing with in confrontations, so this is a good metric for how aggressive they are when upset and how much they hold grudges in mundane situations.

In “Irrational Treasure”, Mabel is deeply hurt by Pacifica’s mockery to the point of giving up her silly identity, and sets out to prove her wrong that she can be competent. But at the end, when presented with the opportunity to destroy the Northwest family’s fake prestigious legacy that they use to justify putting others down, she declares, “I’ve got nothing to prove” and lets it go. She’s secure in herself. Her motivation is satisfied. Why bother putting more pain and strife into the world? It’s Dipper, who has been only been hurt by proximity to Mabel, who insists on exposing the truth specifically to spite Pacifica and takes away that “Man, revenge is underrated. That felt awesome!” Revenge is arguably a form of justice, especially in this sense of revealing an unfair lie, but still, he takes great pleasure in bringing an enemy down for the sake of it, not to fix the damage they did.

In “Fight Fighters”, Dipper’s vindictive streak returns. He manipulates the ridiculously powerful Rumble McSkirmish into brutally beating up Robbie on the fraudulent charge of murder, threatening Robbie’s life. He didn’t realize Rumble would try to kill Robbie, but he was fine with him severely injuring him. Rumble is a fighting game character, a superpowered master martial artist. Robbie is a normal fifteen-year-old. This is not a sportsmanlike matchup. By the end Dipper learns his lesson and takes responsibility, but so does Mabel about hurting people to try to have a perfect life and people still complain about that!

In “The Golf War”, Mabel is again the twin with a bone to pick with Pacifica, but Dipper takes her rivalry more seriously than her and is more willing to be mean about it. He encourages her to cheat when she doesn’t want to, justifying it because Pacifica is “cheating at life”. Understandable, but still underhanded. While Mabel bonds and buries the hatchet with her rival by the end, outright declaring their rivalry to be stupid, Dipper holds onto it, refusing to forgive Pacifica at all and disapproving of Mabel's offer to give her a ride home afterward despite the pouring rain and her absent parents. He still wholeheartedly considers her “the worst” (and tells her so to her face) at the beginning of “Northwest Mansion Mystery”, even though he saw her and Mabel help and protect each other in their fight against the Lilliputtians and Pacifica thank Mabel and accept her apology.

In “The Love God”, Mabel’s compassion is on full display. She makes it apparent that she wants everyone she knows to be happy, to the point of making a chart to show her friends’ feelings with stickers, and goes out of her way to help Robbie just because she doesn’t think any human being should be so lonely and sad. Dipper initially has no sympathy for Robbie’s misery and sees the twins and his old friends leaving him to rot as a good thing.

Dipper just invests more emotionally into hating people and is more willing to play dirty. Mabel prefers to see the best in people, forgive, deescalate conflict and turn enemies into friends whenever possible, and has more respect for honour and sportsmanship.

Compare the insecurities they highlight in "Society of the Blind Eye". These could have been their last words spoken with their memories of the summer, so they are fully candid and vulnerable.

Mabel confesses, “I only love some of my stuffed animals and the guilt is killing me!” She reprimands herself for not having sincere affection for all the people in her life… who are inanimate objects, hence this being a joke about how immature and overly sentimental she is. But she’s telling the truth! Not being honest about your feelings toward someone who loves you (as toys are assumed to love their kids) is wrong. It’s something a bad, or at least flawed, person would do. We also know that it’s something Mabel can do with real consequences - she loves Dipper unconditionally, but her frequent teasing of him instead of letting this on damages his self-esteem more than she intends and often realizes - and when she does realize as in “Little Dipper”, she’s ashamed of herself. Her guilt is that she’s failing morally, that she hurts the people around her despite her good intentions.

Dipper admits, “Sometimes I use big words and don’t actually know what they mean. I mean, I’m supposed to be the smart guy! If I’m not the smart guy, then who am I?” He primarily thinks of his worth in terms of competence. Dipper is generally not that confident, at this point in time. He has an intense drive to prove his worth. He is acutely aware of his physical and social shortcomings. But the one thing he knows that he does well is analytical, deductive and strategic thinking, and so to always have value he’s built his entire identity around being particularly intelligent. He’s the planner, the mastermind, the guy with the specialized knowledge and important big words who people have no choice but to respect and listen to, because a lifetime of loneliness besides Mabel has taught him that given a choice, they probably won’t. Except just like Mabel’s all-loving attitude, there’s an element of performance. He doesn’t know everything; he’s inherently irrational to a degree like everyone else. So he tries to seem smarter than he is. His guilt is that he’s failing intellectually and practically, that he isn’t contributing enough to be worth something.

This is where Dipper diverges. He wants to be ethically good less than he wants to be good AT things, and respected for it. But they both beat themselves up when they don’t live up to their self-assigned archetypes of All-Loving Hero and The Smart Guy, when they aren’t good enough by their own unreasonably high standards.

"The Last Mabelcorn" deconstructs Mabel’s fixation on her moral perfection. Celestabellabethabelle, who I will henceforth call C-Beth for short, manipulates it to keep her out of the unicorns’ way. She makes manifest Mabel’s fear that she isn’t good enough no matter what she does. We see Mabel push herself further and further to try to prove herself, much like Dipper in episodes like “Dipper vs Manliness”, and emotionally unravel until she’s miserable, self-loathing and openly listing her vices in a way never seen before. But this isn’t productive! Wallowing in shame doesn’t motivate her to be better! She needs to learn that although she isn’t perfect, the virtues she has are good enough to work with to both get out and kick C-Beth out of her head. She decides to stop worrying about meeting an impossible ideal of goodness and just focus on doing good, by using efficient (if violent, and therefore immoral under certain paradigms) methods to protect her family. Her plot in this episode has its detractors and I understand the criticisms that the message wasn’t handled as well as it could have been. But I think it does okay. Mabel definitely reevaluates her need to feel like a good person here. She switches from prioritizing what’s important to her, the validation of being "pure of heart", to what’s important to others and in the bigger picture, simply getting the unicorn hair to keep Bill out of the Mystery Shack.

Finally, compare the twins’ disastrous errors in judgement in “Scary-Oke” and “Dipper and Mabel vs the Future”, when they both accidentally unleash terrible forces of evil upon the town and set in motion a local apocalypse.

Dipper recites an incantation from Journal 3 that causes the dead to rise as bloodthirsty zombies, desperate to prove to the government agents before they leave that the supernatural is real and warrants their help investigating, driven by both his desire for knowledge (his tool to feel secure in himself) and more immediately his fear of being dismissed as unworthy. He is emotionally vulnerable, but still creates the dangerous situation on his own initiative. Since he doesn’t need a blacklight to read the spell and the beginning of the episode established that he’s already familiar with all Journal 3’s visible entries, he knows what the spell would do. He doesn’t realize how many zombies will appear and how dangerous they’ll be. But he is aware that there are risks. Plus, the Shack is hosting a party full of innocent civilians and Mabel has explicitly asked him not to interfere with weirdness. The one thing she told him not to do that night was raise the dead! And what does he do? Raises the dead.

Mabel is actively deceived and manipulated into giving who she believes to be Blendin Blandin, an expert in time-altering technology, what she believes to be an item of such technology, with the intention of warping time to extend the summer for the town. This is a selfish choice. But on top of how emotionally compromised she is, sobbing in despair after “the worst day of [her] life”, consider her internal logic: the end of summer is going to mean the trials and tribulations of growing up for both her and Dipper, and they won’t even have each other if he gets his way; Wendy is already going through that and has told her how awful high school is; she overheard at least some of the Stans’ conversation at the end of “A Tale of Two Stans”, meaning she might know that Stan will have to give up his home and business once the summer is over; and she and Dipper both have true friends here who they will miss and be missed by, as opposed to their memories of Piedmont where we only see them supporting and comforting each other and never hear of any friends. And it isn’t like she’s the only one having fun! Stan is happier than ever, Ford is back home, Dipper’s come into his own more than she could ever have anticipated. He’ll still get to delve into the mysteries of this town that he loves so much. But she’ll be there too. If you want more Gravity Falls, you can see where she’s coming from. She genuinely thinks that “just a little more summer” would be a positive experience for everyone, with plenty of good reason. Yes, she’s recklessly messing with powerful forces that she doesn’t understand. Yes, she isn’t nearly as suspicious of this sudden miracle solution as she should be. But she has no evidence that this would harm anyone.

Their responses after making their mistake are also noteworthy. They’re both horrified and remorseful. But Dipper expresses no concern for the agents for the rest of the episode when it looks like they’ve been killed due to his actions. He even nonchalantly remarks that he thought they were dead when he sees them again. Mabel, however, reaches to stop Bill and begs him to “wait” before he knocks her unconscious. Then she’s imprisoned in Mabelland, which is designed to make her never want to leave and based on how it only occurs to her after she renounces it that the neon colours and repetitive background music are too much even for her, may additionally have a direct, if subtle, influence on her mind. So she’s a little distracted from her guilt. But by risking her life to fix the repercussions of her actions and save the town, she shows much more responsibility for the townspeople’s lives than Dipper showed for the agents he’d tried so hard to impress. He just happily went about his business for weeks believing he had two people’s deaths on his conscience. Never even looked into whether they survived.

These differences in their personal moral philosophies add another layer to the parallels between the two generations of Pines twins. Typically, Dipper parallels Ford and Mabel parallels Stan. But less so here! Like Mabel, Ford very staunchly believes in abstract moral theory, namely that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. He holds a grudge for weeks against Stan saving him from being lost in the dimensions through the portal, because it endangered the rest of the world by creating the Rift. It was a good deed with good intentions… but it didn’t only make life better for everyone. To Ford, that means it isn’t good enough. Hmm, which younger twin has a problem with judging anything short of ‘pure good’ to not be worthwhile? Also like Mabel, Ford’s self-righteousness is often hypocritical, considering his pride, selfishness and willingness to disregard the possible negative consequences of his actions, e.g. trusting Bill and building the portal in the first place.

Like Dipper, Stan is willing and ready to use underhanded methods to win against his enemies, to lie, cheat, steal and leverage assets he doesn’t really have the right to. He’s more inclined to be aggressive, spiteful and smug. As for holding grudges, even to an unreasonable extent, he personally despised a nine-year-old child even before he knew that the child was a bad person. He would absolutely summon Rumble McSkirmish to attack a rival for him. He prides himself on his cunning, another form of intelligence, and prioritises being good at what he does best over holding the moral high ground. He is shown to have lifelong insecurities about Ford being better than him in other fields (and thus explicitly valued more by their father); so his pragmatism is his way of trying to always be useful to the people he loves, and indeed a key way he shows them his love.

#gravity falls #mabel pines #dipper pines #pines twins #gravity falls analysis

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orobaxis · 1 year

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Hi omg I loved ur ominis work I’ve been dying for any drop of anything 2 do with him since the game came out. Could I request some established relationship ominis x reader fluff? Maybe they’re studying together or they’re hanging out in the undercroft? Tyyy🫶

i could recognize her by touch alone, by smell (i would know her blind) -

ominis gaunt x f!reader (hogwarts legacy)

what is a day in the life of ominis gaunt? a lot less games of gobstones than he wants, a lot more nagging to study for his owls, and a lot more love than he ever had

no plot, just vibes

words: 2393

ominis has come to expect constants in his life. for one, every day he would find you waiting for him at the grand staircase, greeting him with a cheerful “good morning!” and looping your arm around his. he can never get used to the feeling of you being so close to him, feeling the heat radiating off your skin and smelling a scent that is so undoubtably you. he especially likes being able to be with you so early in the morning and having breakfast together.

it’s early enough that the great hall isn’t bustling with students yet; with a few early risers moving about here and there. you sit by the slytherin table beside him and help yourselves to some hearty breakfast.

“so,” ominis starts, “what have you got planned for us today?”

“hm, not much,” you tell him, “we do need to get that herbology homework done, though. i don’t want to spend any more time with it than i have to.” you look around the great hall, “sebastian didn’t want to come?”

ominis sighs. his friend has been…odd lately. you are both concerned for him, sebastian is getting more desperate to find a cure for anne, his twin sister. it also doesn’t help that the new fifth-year student has been following him around, seemingly encouraging his search and directing him to research more on the dark arts. “no,” he replies, “well…he wouldn’t wake up when i tried to. i think he’s exhausted from some escapades he’s been doing with that new student…”

you make a disapproving sound at that. “i’m also wanting to send an owl to anne. maybe get her some treats from honeydukes from when we last went,” you ponder.

“i think she will appreciate that,” he tells you with a smile, and he can almost sense you smile back in gratitude. he feels you push him gently with your shoulder, affectionately resting your head on his shoulder before sitting back up to resume eating.

you have become a real constant in his life. ominis admits that it took him longer to warm up to you than with anne and sebastian in your first year, but when he did, he didn't just 'warm up', he melted. the feelings he has for you are stronger than the ones he has with the sallows, treating them as the siblings he never had (rather, the siblings he wishes he has). everything with you though is more intense, and before he knew it, he was falling hard and fast. he still wonders if your mind is a bit of a mess because you seem to feel the same way. despite this, ominis thinks he doesn't mind it one bit.

“the headmaster is acting quite odd today.”

you look up to see ominis with a curious look on his face. he plops down beside you with a sigh before pulling out his parchment and quill. you both agreed to meet up in the greenhouses to do your homework.

“what, you mean he's not his usual awful self?” you ask him with a raised eyebrow. he rolls his eyes at that, “no, that's not what i mean. i mean...his attitude is still a troll’s, but he was going on about bubotuber pus as moustache paste and whatnot...i couldn't understand him.”

"hmm, maybe he was just feeling particularly chatty today,” you remark, “and maybe gave us hints on what questions they will ask us in our O.W.L.S.”

"i doubt that," he huffs. he stands in front of his potting station, sighing when he realizes the venomous tentacula he planted seems to have wilted (it didn't try to reach and devour him), "is my venomous tentacula dead?"

"oh no, it's still alive," he hears you walk over to stand beside him, "just sulking a little, i think. you haven't visited the greenhouse in a bit and i think it got hungry, although it did try a weak chomp when i first arrived," you giggle when ominis makes a face, remembering the last time he came to check up on it, it started chewing on his robes. "nothing a few pieces of meat can't cure."

"good, because i doubt professor garlick would appreciate it if i turned in a decaying plant," he mutters in relief. "i would barely pass the O.W.L.S. this year, i doubt i would have any chances of finding a good job in the future."

"stop that," you reprimand him softly, moving to grab his hand and guide him away from the table. the venomous plant hisses from its spot, clearly not appreciating not being fed. "you're a smart wizard, ominis. one of the smartest. if not THE smartest--"

"now you're just making fun of me," he tells you half-heartedly, lips twitching up into a smile when he hears your giggle. your hand moves to ruffle his hair, but ominis quickly stops you with a gentle hand to your wrist. “don’t mess up my hair.”

“you have to let your hair down sometimes, ominis!” you exclaim, “i like seeing your hair all disheveled.”

ominis laughs but says nothing, dropping a quick peck on your wrist where your pulse point lies. he drops your hand and returns to his parchment and starts dictating, his quill writing down his words. he pretends not to hear the gasp you made and your flustered breathing as you return to your station to resume your homework.

"well?" he turns his head slightly to your direction, "just gonna sit there in shock?"

"shut up!" you exclaim, before returning to your homework. you work quietly while ominis dictates for his quill, enjoying the peaceful (as it can be, with ominis' venomous tentacula) atmosphere of the greenhouse, until ominis' quill stops writing resolutely.

"all done!" he says triumphantly.

"oh, i'm almost done too!" you say, hurriedly scribbling on your parchment. once you're satisfied with it, you start to clean up and put away your things. when you tell ominis that you're good to go, he extends his arm to you, his hand waiting, "let's go then."

you slot your hand into his and he tangles your fingers together as you walk out of the greenhouse.

not that professor binns minds, but ominis doesn't really hide how boring he finds history of magic. he would sit there beside you, his chin on his palm, with almost a relaxed smile on his face.

"you could atleast pretend to listen, you know," you tell him. ominis turns to you, and the smile on his face widens,

"why should i? this is the most boring class we have. i'd rather be playing gobstones."

"well, first of all, we will still get tested on the goblin rebellions of the 18th century," you remark, whilst also trying to stifle your yawns behind your hand, "and it wouldn't look good if we get like a 'T' in history of magic. and secondly, you're not at all good at gobstones! you always lose to me!"

"i doubt we would get a Troll in this class," ominis tells you nonchalantly. "and you only win because i let you! you can be such a sourpuss when you lose! i've seen you with sebastian and anne, and not to mention zenobia!"

"well, zenobia is a reigning champion at gobstones!"

with his chin still propped up on his palm, he uses his other hand to reach for the pocket of his robes, "here, have something sweet."

you can see that he is offering you a candy, probably something he got from professor ronen's class. trying to hide a grin, you ignore his outstretched hand and ask him teasingly, "what something sweet? a kiss?"

it's like you can almost see the moment ominis processes what you said, and you trace the flush from his neck to his face, until he becomes redder than a tomato. he huffs, tossing you the candy, mumbling under his breath, "shut up!"

when professor binns ushers everyone out of the classroom to look at ancient relics, you end up playing gobstones against ominis after all (you win again).

ominis pretends it bothers him, but you begin to suspect that there may be some truth to what he told you about letting you win. ominis however, may have lost the game, but hearing you laugh really makes it a win-win situation.

on your way to the undercroft, ominis stops you. “i have to go to my dormitory,” he tells you, “i left something there.”

“oh, alright,” you reply, “do you want me to come with you?”

he sputters in surprise at your question, “w-what?”

“to the dormitories?”

“no!” ominis flushes at the thought of you being in his dormitories, and in his bed? his cheeks reddening even more at the thought and his neck heating up in embarrassment, “no, i’ll be quick. i’ll see you at the undercroft.”

“are you sure?” you ask him. “the walk doesn’t bother me.”

“no, i insist,” ominis calms down now, the heat in his cheeks dissipating. you have known each other for some time now, yet he still couldn’t help being flushed with words that you say and the things that you do. he is entirely enamored.

“alright, if you say so,” you answered in a sing-songy voice, making him smile. “i’ll see you at the undercroft.” with any luck, you hope to see sebastian somewhere in the defense against the dark arts tower or hopefully even in the undercroft. you haven’t spent as much time with him as you used to, with him usually being too busy running off with the new student. you just hope he eventually comes back to his senses.

when he gets to the undercroft, you call him over to the sofa that you had conjured. ominis sits beside you, his eyebrows raising, "i thought you'd've conjured a desk or something. and start nagging me to study."

you roll your eyes. "well, i would...but i got sleepy. the undercroft isn't the best place to study you know, it's dark and i hate that i can't see anything--"

"that must be so terrible for you," he remarks, receiving a gentle slap to his chest.

"i didn't mean it like that!" you say defensively, "and i just thought i could take a short nap instead of studying. we did do a lot of studying this week."

"hmm, if by a lot, you mean, 'doing the very bare minimum and completing our homework', then i'd say we did quite the studying."

you cross your arms and glare at him playfully, "ominis gaunt, i'll have you know that i study too outside of school hours. i go to the library and read up just before going to bed. and what about you? how are you preparing for your O.W.L.S?"

"you mean to tell me listening to you read the books isn't going to be enough?" he jokes, laughing at your 'horrified' gasp. you both try to get as much work done since O.W.L.S are coming up closer by the day, and you would jokingly nag him to actually do some revising instead of 'making you read' books for him. he loves the sound of your voice, and you like the relaxed look on his face when he listens to you.

ominis had been thinking about giving you something. it is something he had been keeping. he showed it to sebastian, who had been telling him to give it to you for some time now. he had been a bit nervous, though, and decided that maybe today is the day he will give it to you.

"i have something for you," he starts, "that's why i went back to my dormitories."

you sit up in surprise, turning to him. "what? ominis, love, you know you don't have to give me anything--"

"i know," he tells you, "i want to."

in his hand, he offers you a necklace. you gasp, hands flying to your mouth in shock. it looks beautiful! so elaborate, and yet, simple, its sheer elegance shining within the dark halls of the undercroft.

"ominis...it's absolutely beautiful," you run your fingers on it, still in ominis' hand. "where did you get this?"

"an old lady in hogsmeade...turn around," he instructs, "i originally wanted to give you something that is a gaunt heirloom--

"ominis!"

"sebastian wanted me to, said it's more elegant. but...i didn't want to give you something from that horrendous family," he huffs, "i believe you deserve better than that. so, i took the heirloom and traded it for this one, the old lady seemed very happy and in awe of it."

"i know i'm not so good with words," ominis starts (he immediately hushes your protests), and i would only be teasing and sarcastic to you. but i hope you know...y/n, there isn't anything that i wouldn't do for you. i really hope you know that and if not, i'll prove it to you every day."

you sniff, trying to stop the tears from falling down your cheeks, "oh love, i do know that. and i want you to know that i would do anything for you too."

he clasps the necklace around your neck, running his hand softly on your neck and a bit further down, making you shiver in delight. "you might think me silly for saying this," he clears his throat, "but i think, it's you for me, you know. and it's silly since we're so young and..."

"ominis," you began, but he interrupts you--

"you may not feel the same way, but i really think it's you. i dream of you, you know. all i do, is dream of you."

you finally turn, reaching to grasp his hands in yours. "oh ominis, of course i feel the same! if you still have doubts, then i will have to do my best to make sure you know that. every day, i will remind you." you hands fly to touch the necklace, skin still tingling from where his touch burned you, "thank you so much. i don't know what to say...how could i ever repay you?"

ominis chuckles, "it's a gift, silly. i gave it to you without asking for anything in return. although,"

"hmm? what is it?" you ask.

"i wouldn't say no to 'something sweet'."

hope everyone is doing well! i finished the main story, 70 hours in! still have some side quests to finish <3

thank you so much for all your replies! it really warms my heart!

also if you sent a request and i have replied yet, please know that im working on it! <3

and sorry if there's a weird formatting, i was working on both pc and phone!

#ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt imagine #hogwarts imagine #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy imagine #hogwarts

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eggymf-archived · 1 year

Text

hogwarts legacy headcanons + imagines: how they fell for you and how they ended up asking you out

ft. sebastian, ominis, garreth, and amit with gn!reader

themes: a lot of fluff, sfw, slight crack lmao idk

warning: not proofread; unedited

masterlist

sebastian sallow

he will most likely (and unknowingly) dig his own grave by "harmlessly" calling you pet names and not-so-subtly flirt with you the moment you manage to catch his attention

how did you catch his attention? when he finds you sneaking in the restricted section when he himself was also sneaking into the same place (spiderman meme moment lmao)

contrary to popular belief, he's probably not flirty to most people, preferring to hit the books and practice his spell-casting. the people he wouldn't mind snogging or more though? hmmmmmm

then there's you, who's astonishingly immune to his charm and suave words. he finds that alluring but in actual reality, you're probably just too unassuming to realize he's making moves

he most likely fell for you either the moment you whooped his ass during a duel, or when you effectively saved his ass in some way from either battling spiders, poachers, or goblins

he didn't realize it at first though, until it slowly started to sink in that spending time with you gives him some sort of addicting glee deep down

that's when he realized that he can't mess around anymore with the casual pet names and flirting, so he stops doing those the moment he becomes aware of his feelings

he tries playing it cool regardless along with denying his feelings. he settles for that painful pining, however (damn that crucio must've done something to him to push through with this sort of pain--)

ominis would've probably smacked him in the head for being an oaf and overcomplicating things for himself

but just as he's not so subtle with his flirting tendencies, it's the same with his jealousy and shattered ego

"leander wants to invite who out for a date?!"

"(y/n). i overheard him and weasley talking about asking (y/n) out for a date later in hogsmeade. don't see why that should matter much to you though," ominis shrugs, casually popping a flavored bean into his mouth.

"it's leander for merlin's sake! leander fucking prewett - the mandrake-looking moonmind who lost to me multiple times in a duel!" sebastian hissed, angry jealousy and disbelief evident in his tone.

"oh i see what's going on now."

"the last time i checked, you're blind, ominis."

"i'll pretend you didn't say that, sebastian. but least leander prewett isn't on the verge of stealing my significant other."

"they're not my significant other-"

"oh, but you want them to be. how about you stop lying to yourself and just ask (y/n) out before he does? simple solution for a simple problem, unless you want prewett to do it first."

sebastian stormed off, heading towards a confused-looking (y/n) while ominis was smirking triumphantly.

he "forgot" to tell sebastian he was just pulling his leg. whoops.

"you. me. three broomsticks. today. after class."

ominis gaunt

we all know he's baby, but boy he's really snarky at first and you were kinda scared of him

you've probably been crushing on him since the first day you met him despite his bark (bitch pls who wouldn't be?)

everyone in your year is hyper aware of your crush towards him 'coz they actually see what you do for him in secret whenever you could (such as countering any hex or jinx his older siblings would try to cast at him in hallways when they were still students in hogwarts)

you didn't really want to offend him in any way hence the secrecy of your actions. he's rather adamant that he can handle it all on his own, but you just do it voluntarily as an act of love.

during potions class is when you look out for him the most. when you weren't in the same table as him, you'd adjust the flame for him using your wand from a considerably long distance whenever you noticed that weird swirls were coming out of his cauldron.

professor sharp noticed this eventually, so he ends up assigning you to the same table as ominis every school year primarily for safety reasons (or maybe he finds the one-sided pining rather painful to look at)

you were more open with giving your help to him from that point onwards, telling him if he grabbed the wrong ingredient, handing him over things, if the potion looks wrong, etc.

ominis' grades in potions improved thanks to you!

he shares his treats with you and occasionally teaches you new spells in the undercroft as a form of reciprocation

little do you know, ominis actually knows what you've been doing all these years. he just doesn't feel he deserves someone as kind as you are, much to sebastian's chagrin watching the both of you pine for each other

he always has been rather attracted with how gentle and caring you are (i mean, you did prevent his cauldron from exploding at his face at several points), and he fell more overtime as he got to know you. he's just extremely subtle about how he shows his feelings.

"seems like i'm running low on ingredients," ominis mutters, shaking his nearly empty jar of crushed moonstone.

"we have been using alot of them lately, haven't we? i'm running out of quite a lot of ingredients too actually," you said.

now's definitely ominis' chance.

"how about we go to hogsmeade later after class to buy the ingredients? and perhaps have some butterbeer or go to honeydukes after. my treat. if you don't mind, that is."

your face burned at this. he asked you out. merlin, he actually fucking asked you out.

"s-sure! i'd be glad to. l-let's meet at the bell tower entrance later! see you!" you sputtered rather embarrassingly as you gathered your things before scampering off to your next class. a faint smile and a blush graces ominis' usually stoic expression.

"would you look at that. you finally had the guts to ask her out on a date," sebastian drawls, elbowing lightly at ominis' rib.

ominis scowled, his face flushing dark red both in embarrassment and annoyance, earning a teasing chortle from his brunette-haired best friend.

garreth weasley

you're both partners-in-crime: best friends since childhood to be precise

however, this dork initially sees you more as a gorilla than an actual human being *monke noises*

you can't blame garreth though - you both went through the childhood stages together and he's so comfortable with your presence and vice-versa

despite your mischief with him and both of you landing yourselves in detention quite often, you've actually roped him out of trouble several times from flunking his grades. surprisingly you're pretty smart for a troublemaker

gryffindor loses alot of their house points mostly because of you two especially during potions class

thanks to the both of you, a cauldron lid lodged itself to the ceiling of the potions classroom after a huge explosion. professor sharp has never removed it as a grim reminder of both of your "shameful" behavior during class (or perhaps he was actually amused by the incident). both of you got a week's worth of detention from that as well.

special mention to garreth completely burning off one of sebastian's eyebrows (a/n: watch this tiktok for the context)

how garreth realized he loves you: partner-in-crime? check. loves your personality? check. will probably die if you're not around? double check. he hates being away from you? CHECK. he would do all sorts of things to make you happy? check. you're an actual human being? surprisingly, after careful evaluation and contemplation, check.

and then realization dawns upon him that all this time, he's been in love with his best friend for years and counting. however out of fear of ruining the friendship, he decides not to confess

potions class - your absolute favorite. garrett, however, isn't looking particularly excited today - he absolutely dreads today's particular lesson: amortentia - the love potion.

garrett was determined to stay out of trouble today. getting professor sharp's attention is the worst thing that could possibly happen. unfortunately, violent sparks flew from his cauldron after he accidentally dropped his whole bottle of powdered moonstone due to his jitters.

"ah, perfect. mr weasley, please come up here. instead of blowing up another cauldron yet again, perhaps you should tell us what you smell?"

"a-ah. right, sir. um.. i smell..."

garreth took a whiff. his senses went into full overdrive as a familiar, comforting array of scents engulfed him. long story short: his brain short-circuited.

“... (y/n)!” he blurted out of pure nervousness, causing an eruption of gasps and wolf whistles while you flushed pink at his sudden and rather public confession. garreth was absolutely mortified upon realizing what had happened as he rushed back to his station. as soon as potions classes ended, you approach garreth who was looking dejected.

"garreth, i-"

"yes, (y/n). i've loved you since we were kids-"

"wait. let me-"

"i know it took too long for me to realize-"

"garreth-"

"but it was always you and i got scared-"

he was cut off from rambling any further as you gave him a peck on the lips. the ginger-haired male was stunned, whispering an "oh" in realization as he slowly beamed.

"faculty tower after class? let's go to honeydukes."

you smiled, nodding in agreement.

amit thakkar

oh boy, where do i even start with this one

long story short: it was love at first sight for him

but with how skittish he gets especially when he's around you? he avoids you like the plague to avoid making a fool out of himself

you bring out his dreamy, poetic side

he's a writer, so he secretly writes poems and stories about you as an outlet to express his love in some way

he keeps those several pieces of parchment sandwiched in between his thick books. whenever he secretly gets bored of the class, that's when he starts writing down those little (and unfortunately unsent) love notes

but alas, he can't avoid you forever. you were both assigned in pairs to map out several star charts for your astronomy class

he discovers that you do have a fascination for the cosmos just as he does, and that you're an avid listener to his enthusiastic ramblings about the said topic

eventually he starts to be more comfortable around you

he was content with this platonic set up actually - just you and him chilling under the night sky. hell, he feels lucky to be even graced by your presence

however, all hell broke loose because of everett clopton teasing him after he found one of his romantic literary snippets, thus resulting in the unconsented confession of his feelings towards you

amit has been avoiding you eversince that incident after charms class with everett clopton reciting one of his cheesy poems about you after taking his charms textbook without his permission. in a fit of embarrassment, he actually ran out of the classroom, ignoring your calls. for once, he didn't care about his time table, opting to retreat himself to his favorite corner at the library's 2nd floor as a means of consoling himself with the peaceful silence.

lately all he does is to drown out his racing thoughts by either reading one of his more complicated books or burying himself with extra work. humiliation aside, he really didn't know how to face you now. he thinks he has permanently lost you even as a platonic friend, and that's what crushed him the most about the situation.

he failed to notice the soft footsteps approaching him as he buried his nose behind a book once more.

"amit?"

he jolted up at the sound of your voice calling him and the both of you stared at each other in silence briefly. you were visibly rather nervous, playing with the dry skin of your fingertips - a mannerism amit had noted that you did whenever you get nervous.

"about charms class-"

"(y/n), don't worry about it. we don't have to-"

"no, please let me finish."

amit stilled, listening attentively.

"i got the book from everett when you rushed out of the classroom. i'm sorry, but i did read some of the other notes. but you have no idea how happy i was when i read them, amit."

you took a step forward, finally mustering enough courage to take his hand lovingly - a shy gesture of proclaiming your adoration towards him.

"could you make more of them, please? for me?"

it took a second or two for your rather cryptic confession to sink in. but the moment it did, amit was brimming with so much happiness he could burst anytime in that moment, wide smiles and all.

"yes, of course. but only after a date with you."

#sebastian sallow x reader #ominis gaunt x reader #garreth weasley x reader #amit thakkar x reader #hogwarts legacy headcanons #hogwarts legacy imagine #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #garreth weasley #amit thakkar

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sweetbutpsychobutsweet · 6 months

Text

Anger Translator

Chapter 3

Thorin Oakenshield x AFAB!Reader

Summary: Thorin's stubborn pride threatens to derail your entire quest before you even reach the Lonely Mountain. Your frustration leads you to question why you were deceived into joining the company in the first place

Warnings: angst, no use of y/n, Thorin being Thorin

author's note: I'm down with a super nasty cold rn so I'm cranking these chapters out pretty fast this weekend. Thank you all so much for your support on the last few chapters.🙏

Word count: 1531

“We have a map we cannot read, Lord Elrond could help us!” Gandalf pleads.

“He’s right,” you agree. “If anyone will know how to read the map it’s Lord Elrond. I know he would be happy to help us.”

Thorin looks between the two of you with disgust.

“Help? A dragon attacks Erebor, what help came from the elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls, the elves looked on and did nothing! And you ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather, betrayed my father?”

“You are neither of them. I did not give you that map and key for you to hold onto the past.” Gandalf reminds him, but it only serves to anger Thorin further.

“I did not know that they were yours to keep.”

You roll your eyes in frustration at his stubbornness as Gandalf storms off in a huff.

“Everything all right?” you hear Bilbo ask, but you’ve already turned your attention back to Thorin, who is still sulking in the remnants of the farmhouse.

“I don’t expect you to be happy about it, but like it or not we are not going to make it very far on this quest without a little outside help.”

“I will not jeopardize this quest by letting these items fall into the hands of elves,” he spits.

“Fine,” you place your hands on your hips, “then what exactly is your plan? To journey all the way to the lonely mountain only to realize we still have no idea how to make it inside Erebor? You’ll have wasted our time and put our lives at risk for nothing, Thorin!”

“And what would you have me do?” he snaps. “Fall on my knees before an elven lord? Disgrace my father’s and grandfather’s legacy?”

You roll your eyes in exasperation, feeling the two of you starting to slip into an oh-so-familiar argument.

“You would not be disgracing anyone Thorin. Yes, it was kind of shitty of them to turn their backs on us like that, but can you blame them? Can you honestly tell me that if the roles were reversed, you would risk the life of a single dwarf to fight a battle that had nothing to do with our kind? If Smaug had attacked Rivendell instead of Erebor would you have offered help?” He remains silent but keeps his fierce gaze locked on you. “And I can assure you there will be no groveling or begging required. Lord Elrond is a friend of mine, he would be happy to help us for nothing in exchange.”

Thorin takes an abrupt step away from you, and you instantly realize that was probably information best kept to yourself for now.

“A friend?!” He scoffs and moves closer to tower over you. You force yourself to stay rooted in place. “I see now where your allegiances truly lie. Tell me was he a patron of yours? Did you entertain your friend with private performances?”

Your hand reaches up to make contact with his cheek with a sharp slap.

“How dare you! In case you’ve forgotten I am a dwarf as well Thorin.”

“Half dwarf, you mean.”

He knows how deeply those words wound you, but you refuse to let him see how they’ve hit their mark. You turn sharply on your heel and storm away before hot, angry tears can escape the dam behind your eyes.

You hear Thorin call your name but you ignore him as you allow your feet to carry you through the thick brush, letting yourself become lost in the woods.

It makes you so angry how easily his words can get to you like that, and he knows it too. Despite the years spent apart, you did grow up together, you’ve known each other your entire lives, and he knows exactly how to get under your skin.

After all, when the other lords and ladies of Erebor forbid their children to speak to you, and the other dwarves your age called you names and refused to let you play with them, Thorin was the one who would comfort you and wipe your tears away. Anyone who dared to utter the words ‘half breed’ would find themselves with a bloody nose or a broken limb. After a while, the two of you became inseparable. You were such close friends that not a soul in Erebor would dare to cast you so much as an unkind glance or risk the wrath of their young prince. He never cared about your parentage. As far as he was concerned you had just as much a right to call Erebor your home as anyone else.

Until Erebor belonged to no one. No one but Smaug. Leaving you with no home, no family, only Thorin.

But not long after that, Thorin was gone too.

You push deeper into the woods, determined to find a tree for your sword to take out all the pent-up frustration.

But rather than a tree you find a wizard.

Gandalf sits on a stump, pipe between his teeth, clearly needing just as much of a break from Thorin as you do. You should find comfort in the fact that your frustration is shared, but instead seeing him only adds fuel to your fire.

“You are on good terms with plenty of elves yourself,” you snap at him.

The wizard raises a brow in question and takes another deep inhale from the pipe.

“You could easily gain access to Elven libraries and seek help from Lord Elrond without me, so why force me to come along?”

He lets out a low laugh followed by a small cloud of smoke.

“Well you are quite right about all that my dear, but no matter how begrudgingly you may have joined the company no one is forcing you to be here. And do you really think that’s the only reason I wanted you here? To be an elven emissary?” he laughs and your brows furrow in confusion. “It’s true you will undoubtedly play a large role in helping us gain assistance from the elves, and I do not believe there to be another soul alive who has studied as much dragon-related literature as you have, but none of those are the true reason you are needed in this company.”

The gray wizard makes room on the large stump and motions for you to join him. You continue to let your confusion and annoyance show as you slump onto the spot next to him.

“Thorin Oakenshield will make an excellent king, that much is certain. He has already done tremendous work for your people and that is all without a crown, a throne, or even a kingdom.”

Despite your differences, you know he is right. Thorin is a great leader, although you would rather be burned alive than admit it aloud to anyone.

“But,” Gandalf continues, “No king is without flaws. And his stubborn pride will be the downfall of us all if it doesn’t change. He needs someone to keep him grounded, level headed. An equal that will tell him the truth even if no one else will. He needs you.”

You open your mouth but can’t seem to form any words. You simply blink up at the wizard in confusion.

“The others respect him as their king, and while a few may attempt to reason with him when he isn’t allowing himself to see clearly, they don’t interact with him in the same directness you do. You are not afraid of his anger, you don’t shy away from challenging him, and above all, he values your opinion. He respects you.”

You let out a laugh of disbelief and push yourself out of your seat to fully turn and face him.

“I don’t know what you have in that pipe, but whatever it is you’ve clearly been smoking far too much of it. Thorin does not respect me, he sees me as a burden. He left me to fend for myself when I needed him the most. I am not here to be his anger translator, I only agreed to come along so I could see my homeland restored once again and finally give my parents a proper burial. The second I have accomplished that I am leaving and never looking back. I intend to put as much distance as possible between Thorin and myself as I can for as long as we both shall live.”

Gandalf picks up his pipe again and fixes you with a stare that seems to say he doesn’t quite believe you. “Well then,” he says, rising to his feet. “It seems your mind has been made up.”

You cross your arms over your chest in confirmation.

“Have you informed Thorin of these plans, if I may ask?”

“Oh yes,” you scoff sarcastically, “because I run all my important decisions by him.”

The old wizard sighs in defeat.

“The sun will be rising soon,” he says, rising from his seat, “and I do believe our companions are about to be eaten by trolls. Perhaps it is best if we intervene.”

You follow after him with a nod, before the full statement clicks

“Wait! They’re what?!”

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@mrsdurin

#thorin x y/n #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x reader smut #thorin oakenshield smut #the hobbit #thorin oakenshieldx fem!reader #thorin oakenshield x afab!reader #thorin #thorin fic #thorin x reader #the hobbit fanfic #thorin x fem!reader #thorin oakenshield angst #thorin oakenshield x y/n #thorin smut #thorin angst #thorin oakenshield x reader angst #thorin x reader angst

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3thansl4ndry · 1 year

Text

never felt so alone

pairing - ethan landry x fem!reader

summary - ethan's conflicting emotions come out to play when he realises what he has to do to avenge his brother.

cw - canon violence, intended lower case, angst, character death, swearing

a/n - my first ethan landry fic im so fucking terrified, i kinda hate but also love this.

word count - 1.5k

ethan knew that he didn't want to kill you. his sister, quinn, had picked you out for him, you would be ethan's first real kill following on from what had happened in New York - you would also, as it turns out, be his first real girlfriend. you were the perfect first kill, you lived alone; your parents were killed in a car accident when you were 12, and since they had burned all of their bridges with their extended family members, you were left to the broken foster care system, of which you were released when you turned 18 - it was perfect, ethan would kill you, and no one would miss you. that was the initial plan, until ethan found himself getting attached to you - he didn't actually love you, did he?

he knew he loved you when he realized he couldn't end your life the way that his father and sister wanted him to. he knew that there was no one in your family that would miss you, but he would - he would miss the feeling he got in his tummy when he would fall asleep in your bed with you beside him, he'd often wake up with your arm in his face from the way you sprawled out when you slept, but he never minded. he would miss the way that you make jokes about his geek-ish interests, about how you never understood the order of any of the star wars or the marvel movies he loved - and despite all of your jabs at his interests, you watched every single movie with him, even if you were bored to death, his excitement at the little details made your heart warm.

it was all of these things that made what ethan was about to do all the much more difficult. he really, really didn't want to kill you. but he had to. he had to do it, to finish of his brother's movie and honour his legacy - to try and make his father proud. however, ethan wasn't sure if all of those factors were worth your life. before he could rethink his choices, he crouched down by the wall of your apartment building, holding onto the railing of the fire escape as he pulled out his phone - double checking that his caller id was off, if it wasn't, he wouldn't do it - and called your number.

you looked over at your desk as you heard your phone vibrating, shoving your laptop off of your lap and pushing your duvet off, you got out of bed to go and investigate who was calling you, your brows furrowing as you saw that the number was withheld. you unplugged your phone, letting the cord drop to the floor as you held the device to your ear, accepting the call.

"hello?"

ethan poked his head up, making sure you were focused on the call, but he couldn't think of anything to say to you, opting to stay silent as he tried his hardest to quietly break into your apartment. guilt was starting to eat at him, he had told you he couldn't hang out with you tonight, saying he had econ and he would see you the next day to make it up to you, even though he knew that the likelihood was that you would be bleeding out by the next day, dead in your apartment. when you heard nothing but radio silence on the other end of the line, your heart rate picked up, along with your adrenaline levels - you had seen a lot of horror movies, and claimed you would be smarter than any of the girls that they portrayed in them, this was the moment that you know that all of that was out of the window.

"This isn't fucking funny," you scolded the person on the other end of the line, you didn't have time for childish bullshit like this. you turned around, swallowing hard as you saw the figure of a ghostface standing on your fire escape, the dark figure illuminated by the streetlight and the light provided by the moon. acting fast and on your pure adrenaline, you reached for the knife you kept tucked in between your mattress and bedframe, gripping it tightly in your hands. you jumped back as the figure threw themself through your bedroom window, smashing the glass into pieces as they fell to the floor with a grunt before quickly picking themselves up before charging at you. you sprinted out of your room and down the hallway, where the masked person followed you to. "What do you want?" you tried your hardest not to show how terrified you truly were.

ethan knew that you were scared, but he wanted this over with. he would make it quick for you, hell, maybe he'd even tell you it was him, maybe it would make it hurt less, but there was something not right, he watched as your fear turned into...excitement? what was going on? he moved towards you, only to be met with a picture frame smashing over his head, the glass shattering as it fell to the floor.

"stay the fuck back. i'm warning you," you waved the knife in front of the ghostface's mask, noticing they had dropped their weapon in your attack. "you think you can come in here and just try and kill me? yeah, nice try. the last people who tried that ended up in a car wreck, brake failure." ethan's heart dropped. you had killed your parents? now it all made sense. your reluctance to talk about what had happened was not merely a trauma thing, it was a murder thing. ethan now realised he was now both the prey and the predator, either one of you could be the crime scene in the days following, this was yours and his game now. before he could react, you shoved your knife through ethan's shoulder, forcing him onto the ground, you pushed through his back, driving the knife into the floor of your apartment. acting upon an adrenaline rush, ethan pulled your knife out of his shoulder, anger flooding him - you were going to kill him?

no, he couldn't have that. he had something to prove. suddenly, the entire way ethan felt about you changed - your life to him was no longer of any importance. his anger took over as he discarded the ghostface mask, you didn't deserve to die thinking that he loved you anymore.

"ethan?" your voice waivered. no. no no no no no. ethan, your sweet, dorky, nerdy boyfriend was trying to kill you. you no longer felt as confident as you did, your heart breaking as ethan got up onto his feet, gripping your knife. he chuckled as he pointed your own weapon at you. "no. what...what are you doing?"

"what do you think i'm doing? you think i'd show you my face if i was gonna let you live? oh, you sweet, dumb thing," you were convinced this was another ethan, this wasn't your boyfriend - this was just a monster that possessed his body - he told you that he loved you, no one had told you that before. you trusted him more than anyone in the world. you struggled in ethan's strong grip as he held you, your back to his chest. "you know, i really did love you," he told you. "well, that was until you tried to kill me, bitch."

before you could react, he drove the knife into your stomach, twisting the offending weapon as he plunged the knife further into your abdomen.

"ethan! please stop!" you begged him, your hand covering his as it held the knife which stuck out of your stomach. you screamed as he dragged the blade up your torso, cutting into and slicing through your intestines. "please! i love you!"

he started to feel guilty again. but he had committed now, what would you say at the hospital if he let you go? the police would take a statement, you would stick him into the cops. no, he had to follow through now. he pulled the knife out of your stomach, and took a minute to look at your blood on his hands - bright red and a stark contrast against the paleness of his hands, the blood loss from the stab wound on his shoulder. ethan held you up since you had started to slump, the life draining out of you along with all of your blood. he jerked you back before plunging the knife into your chest repeatedly, you didn't have it in you to beg or plead anymore, blood trickling out of your mouth as your boyfriend made hole after hole in your torso. feeling you go limp, ethan dropped your lifeless body onto the floor, still bleeding out from the holes in your chest and stomach.

ethan watched you lay there, blood spilling out from your body and onto your white carpet. his heart broke this time, the realisation of what he had done hitting him. he had killed you, and you loved him, you trusted him and loved him, and he did this to you.

#ethan landry #ethan bailey #ethan kirsch #ethan landry x reader #ethan bailey x reader #ethan kirsch x reader #scream 6 #x read #ethan x reader #angst #scream fanfic #jack champion

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