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#but it's absolutely competent and held my interest from start to finish
keyofjetwolf · 4 months
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So far 2024 has seen me knocked flat by a cold, but hey, enabled my first book of the year to start and finish!
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icey--stars · 1 year
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Stories To Be Told: PART 4
Series Index
A shadowsinger, a warrior, an Illyrian, that's what she was. Trained by one of the most formidable female warriors. Escaped the Illyrian camps and her clipping when she was barely sixteen and is now the holder of 6 siphons. What happens when she tries to sneak into the City of Starlight? And starts down a whole new road of chaos?
A/N: next part will be posted on MONDAY! I've got to save some of these pre-written parts up so i can catch up lol
↢ 『 ☾ 』 ↣
The next morning, I left my things (except my sword that remained with me) in the tree and then flew up to the training rings.
The other females focused on me more now, having seen me twice. I felt oddly self-conscious under their stares.
“Welcome back Y/N,” Nesta said as I walked over to them. “We’re glad to have you.”
I dipped my head silently. Emerie glanced at me. Then she asked, “Whereabouts have you been? I’ve never seen you around. Seems like you popped into existence.”
“Illyria, Winter Court and all across the Night Court pine forests,” I replied. “I stay hidden.” A beat of silence, and then I added on, “I’m the one known as the Escaped.”
Emerie’s eyes flickered with recognition immediately. “Interesting. I was under the impression that she’d died. Nice to know you survived.”
I nodded, not knowing how to reply.
Cassian walked over then. “Alright. We’re doing weight training and core strength before we’re doing mitts and gloves.”
“So much fun,” Gwyn groaned.
We wandered over to a set of dumbbells stashed near the wall of training swords, and two bars with weights beside them.
It’s been a while since I’ve done weight training, but I lifted enough heavy stuff to know what I could do.
“Start light,” Cassian suggested to me. “Then test yourself. Lest you injure yourself.”
I dipped my head to show acknowledgement. I was set to do squats with the bar with Gwyn and then shoulder presses across a cushioned wooden slab.
I started light, as suggested, but quickly moved up until I found where my muscles strained just right. It was more than anyone else, I noticed after we’d finished. Besides Cassian maybe, I amended. He hadn’t participated. And Illyrians absolutely prided themselves on how much weight they could lift.
“Good, now we’re doing planks,” Cassian ordered.
“Aren’t you going to at least suffer with us for this part?” Nesta asked.
“Fine Nes,” he said with a little smirk. We each settled into an high plank position.
A five minute plank was the goal.
I held it for about 3 minutes without an issue, then my legs and arms started to quiver a bit. But I made it to 5 minutes, standing up, very relieved that it was over.
I was immediately disappointed when I figured out that core strength training meant reps of the exercises right after each other.
“Alright. Nes, how about you pair with Y/N and Emerie with Gwyn?” Cassian suggested, bringing over punching mitts and cushions.
Nesta walked over towards me.
“Do you want to block or punch first?” She asked.
“I’ll block,” I responded, picking up the training mitts.
Nesta picked up the gloves.
I braced myself against her punches and kicks, sometimes moving and changing positions. This part of training was familiar to me. Rainne and I used this type of training often. She always told me that I'd have to be able to fight physically before I could really honestly touch that sword.
After around thirty minutes of sweaty punching from Nesta, Cassian ordered us to switch.
Nesta and I swapped equipment. She surprisingly held steady against my first punch. I followed it with a smooth high kick. Nesta smirked at me while I smiled at her.
“Show me whatever the Raven taught you. Surely you have to be better than this,” she challenged.
I evened her with a stare before gathering my strength and jumping high, turning and then kicking the cushioned mitt, sending Nesta to stumble back.
When I landed, she had gathered herself to withstand a left hook.
“Good Y/N,” Cassian said behind me. “Clean kick.”
I smirked competitively at Nesta before continuing to pummel the mitts.
We finished when the sun hit noon like yesterday. I chugged down the water provided.
“Would you like to join us for lunch?” Nesta asked after a moment. “And Mind-Stilling after if you’d like.”
I paused for a moment. “Sure,” I replied hesitantly. “What’s Mind-Stilling?”
“A Valkyrie technique to calm and focus the mind,” Nesta explained. “We’ll tell you how.”
I nodded. My flying could wait, I decided.
I walked with Nesta down to the dining room, sitting down in a different seat than at dinner. Gwyn, Emerie, Cassian and Azriel sat down as well. I was tense, but remained calm on the outside. Normally I didn’t eat lunch, despite being hungry by the time the sun was about 2 hours from the horizon. I just used it as motivation to hunt usually, as a reminder that this body did require food.
Everyone settled and food appeared in front of us momentarily. I silently ate, thankful for the food. 
I followed Nesta and the two others to a room with basically nothing in it except a couple mats.
We took a seat on them, cross legged.
-----
Let’s just say that Mind-Stilling is a bit harder done than said. But I did manage to complete it, only by sheer will and spite. I did see the use for it though.
After that, I took off into the sky. Yet I stayed near the House. I didn’t know why. I had almost no reason to stay. Staying was in fact likely to cause issues. Yet I didn’t want to leave. For once, I did want to stay.
The females seemed welcoming enough. They were kind and understanding, I had noted during training. When one fell, no one giggled. They just turned to help their companion rise.
When I managed to turn my attention, I also noted that if Azriel needed to make corrections to someone’s posture, he asked permission before touching and very gently moved them back into position. This place was kinder than anywhere I’d been. Maybe that’s why I wanted to stay. I was desperate for that kindness. Desperate for a place to belong, if even temporarily. And yet, schooled somewhere in my mind, a voice screamed that I would be fine on my own, with my hard unforgiving life.
I decided to fly over Velaris today. Gazing down in wonder at the city’s beauty. Then I sat in that little corner of the House again for dinner, before resting my eyes in a tree.
I went to training again for the rest of the week, sometimes staying for lunch and Mind-Stilling. My back had begun hurting from sleeping in a tree so much, so I was ready to set up camp or…
Or take Rhysand’s offer of staying in that residence in Velaris. Distantly, that little voice screamed again.
I flew over the city now, thinking. Should I stay? It would be weird, staying in a home again, but it’d be… good. A good change. Despite what I had drilled into me.
My thoughts were interrupted by a whoop below me.
I glanced down, having been flying high above the city.
A small male Illyrian was flying with another larger one.
I drifted closer by a little bit. I recognized the bigger male. Rhysand. The little one was most likely Nyx, his son.
I saw the exact moment when Rhysand spotted me. He went from happily playing with his son to looking up at me, much more wary.
I took it as my ticket to leave, leaning into a turn to go back toward the House.
But I’d already been spotted.
Wing beats came up towards me and I turned to see both of the others flying towards me.
“Y/N,” Rhysand greeted as he came up on my side, Nyx on the other side of him. “How have you been?”
“I’ve been fine,” I replied. “And you?”
“Things are peaceful,” he replied. “This is Nyx, my son,” the High Lord introduced, gesturing to the young Illyrian flying beside him.
I smiled gently as the young male met my gaze. “It’s very nice to meet you Nyx. I am Y/N.”
Nyx smiled back. “Hi,” he said.
Rhysand was staying between us, probably for protective reasons. It was more of a silent flying before Rhysand once again spoke up.
“You haven’t left,” he observed.
“I haven’t,” I repeated, turning my head towards him.
“Do you plan to stick around then?” He asked. I gulped. Then I sighed. Rainne wouldn’t want me sleeping like a lunatic on the forest floor forever.
“Yes,” I replied. “At least for training and funds. I could probably get a physical labor job by the docks quite easily.”
Rhysand nodded. “The offer to stay at the townhouse still stands, should you want it.”
“I suppose I can’t sleep in a tree forever.”
Nyx watched us curiously, but the young child was starting to get tired I noticed. He was panting a lot heavier. He was probably undergoing a much less stressful training than in the camps. Training regardless though.
“Nyx, why don’t you head home,” Rhysand regarded his son. “Dad has a bit of work to do.”
Nyx smiled before he turned away, heading back towards a huge mansion on the river side. My heart ached. That young child was lucky. And Rhysand and Feyre likely deserved such a perfect little one.
“I’ll show you where it is,” Rhysand explained, breaking my thoughts as he turned to descend towards somewhere in the middle of the city. I followed.
He showed me to a big house. A red-headed male was on the balcony.
“That’s Lucien. He stays here, but there are more than enough rooms for you to stay here, or if Nesta finds it agreeable, you may stay at the House of Wind. Either works.”
I nodded. “I’ll speak to Nesta tomorrow and see what my options are.”
Lucien looked down at us. “Hello there,” the male greeted from the balcony. I noticed a mechanical eye and the large face scar immediately, but ignored it respectfully.
“Hello Lucien,” Rhysand said. “Y/N may come to stay at the townhouse with you soon.”
“The more the merrier,” Lucien chuckled. “I didn’t really get to meet you, Y/N, at the dinner. Nice to meet you now.”
I dipped my head. “As it is with you,” I replied.
Rhysand seemed to be pleasantly surprised for some reason, glancing at me more than once. Maybe he was surprised to find I was, in fact, able to be quite formal with my wording when I wanted to.
“Just let Cassian know where you choose to stay,” Rhysand said to me. “I’ll let you get back to flying.”
I nodded. “Thank you,” I said.
He nodded and then took off.
Lucien waved as I took off as well. 
That was the last night I slept in a tree. Nesta must have found something about me to like, because she accepted my request to live in the House without even a protest. She said to choose a room near the balcony I landed on all the time. All the ones over there were empty besides Azriel’s which was marked.
It was nice to sleep in a bed again, I decided.
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Trigun Stampede Character Thoughts: Vash
I've been putting off this write-up since I finished the show if for no other reason than whenever I go to analyze this funky little dude my entire brain just stalls and goes
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✨ Hi, Vash. Hi. :) ✨
...anyways.
Here's a quick collection of thoughts on him now that I am finally more coherent! The hardest part of this was trying to make something readable with the sheer amount of things I could say about him. Geez.
(Please note that I have only watched Trigun Stampede! As of this moment, I am starting the manga and have not seen 98 Trigun. I thought it might be interesting to compare and contrast once I've read the manga. Bear with me in the meantime!)
Right off the bat, the show introduces us to who Vash is as a character - a pacifistic gunman who, while incredibly skilled, avoids confrontation when at all possible. When Meryl accuses him of running away out of fear, it's pretty quickly made apparent that, while it is out of some semblance of fear, it is not fear for himself. Rather, his concerns lie with other people's well-being first and foremost.
Or, really, his concerns lie near completely with other people's well-being. What happens to him is of very little consequence if it means everyone else is okay.
I want to talk about three different things when it comes to Vash, namely:
His incredible skill and competence
His terrible self-image
His solidly held pacifistic convictions
Skill and Competence
Ohhhh ok. So, I can't really comment on exact positions or maneuvers (I used to do martial arts pretty extensively, but it's obviously not the same kind and I know absolutely nothing about guns or marksmanship sorry), but I can sure tell you that I loved the way the animators had Vash move in episode 1 right before he pulls out his gun for the first time. I wish I knew how to make gifs properly because I would totally make one of that part. Even before Roberto's line that "acting brave is foolish" and "he's not long for this world" had finished, I was already convinced of the exact opposite. As someone who's done martial arts. Guys. The way he moves here.
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It's a three step movement - he steps to the right, then to the left in an almost meandering way, shifting his body weight as he goes, before he grounds himself in a wide stance. It's slow, fluid, and calculated - a distinct contrast from his often jerky, exaggerated motions that we saw earlier. God I wish I had a gif. I don't think I can simply explain how insane it makes me. The animators could've just had him approach directly or run up to it - a lot of the times, with action heroes, there's a lot of flashy motion or jumping around, etc., which looks cool but isn't exactly something to be role modelling in an actual fight lol. But here? In the next episode, Nebraska mockingly says "this isn't the ballet" with regards to the dodging and spinning Vash does, but a lot of his motions... really are dance-like. He's damn near effortlessly shifting his center of gravity while remaining fluid in motion and completely balanced. No novice moves like that. He clearly has a lot of experience. For me watching, Roberto's line was refuted before he even finished it.
...which of course makes it even funnier when he realizes he's out of bullets. Oh, buddy. You looked so cool for a second there. Hjhdfnv
Really though, pay attention to the way he moves while fighting or shooting. He's always well-grounded, and the more serious the situation, the more fluidly and less exaggeratedly he moves. It's so, so cool. I don't know if I've quite seen that kind of motion in animation before, especially cgi (though it is possible I just haven't seen enough too...hehe...).
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The episode 12 fight too! Again, Vash is balanced, even as he's being knocked backwards. He falls correctly, and allows his body to move with the gun. All his motions are precise and fluid. Contrast that to Nai, who is, uh... totally unbalanced lmao.
And then the way he tucks before he jumps out the window! The animation actually convinced me of this guy's over 100 years of experience. I actually believe it.
What's nice is that Vash, too, is aware of his own skill. He moves with a lot of confidence, and he clearly has a great degree of trust in his own ability to fight and shoot without seriously harming anyone - not once does he show the slightest bit of doubt in his abilities. One might expect, given Vash's refusal to kill, that he might be worried about accidental injuries when in the middle of a gunfight - but he isn't. Ever. The only way I can interpret this is complete confidence in his own abilities, and he most likely trained hard to specifically ensure that this would never be a concern. The trope of "character who doesn't want to fight or hurt people turns out to be really insanely skilled/strong" is always cool and fun, but in this context it's really a neat take on it, since I feel it is only because he refuses to kill that he intentionally developed such god-tier level marksmanship - I am going to go out on a limb here and assume it is much easier to accidentally inflict serious injury with a gun than it is to actively avoid doing so lol. He probably worked at being a really good fighter and gunman specifically so he could avoid killing.
I also find it kind of refreshing that he never calls his skills into question, since that does tend to happen with characters who have a poor self-image or low esteem. Which, uh, takes me to the next point.
Self-Image
Yeah, Vash's self-image is kind of in the gutter. He places the blame for all the tragedies that follow him on himself, despite the fact that he always puts in his full effort to prevent them from happening.
The majority of this ties back to his feelings of culpability for the fall. I want to direct your attention to the scene where Vash is digging the tally marks into the wall in episode 8 - it can't possibly be the number of days that have passed since we see the transition of the sun only twice and Brad looks shocked when he sees the all the tallies (which he wouldn't be if they had been there for that many days). With the way Vash's tallies look a bit like crosses and the fact that he greeted the people in cryosleep on Ship 5 by name in the first episode, suffice to say, he is probably making a tally of all the people who didn't make it through the crash - people whose deaths he feels personally responsible for.
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Really, I wouldn't consider Vash even remotely responsible for any of that - he had the access codes but like. Zero intent or knowledge of what Nai was about to do with them. Regardless, Vash carries the guilt from it in the way Nai won't, because in his mind, someone needs to take accountability. Also important to remember is that the only reason any human being still lives on No Man's Land is because of Rem's sacrifice. Vash needs to maintain his belief in the capacity for human kindness and his no-killing code, because if he doesn't, her sacrifice would be in vain. He keeps her values and beliefs alive. She's in everything he does. Even hollowed out and stripped of his memories and identity, the mass of roots and flowers that engulf July take on her likeness.
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So, really, in addition to Vash just being a generally compassionate soul, his staunch pacifism is a refusal to betray her beliefs and let his mother figure die a second time. I need to fucking lie down.
With all this strain he puts on himself, it's really not surprising that when tragedy inevitably strikes, he is very hard on himself, and from what we've seen this actually manifests in a set of consistent self-punishing behaviours - I am of course referring to episode 3's "I don't deserve to cry" and his refusal to eat in episode 4 (despite apparently needing to, unlike Nai). This is very similar to what we see in episode 8 with him as a kid, where he goes somewhat blank (no crying, no anger, all his negativity directed inwards and at himself) and refusing all food except what little he needs to survive because "it's a waste".
The worst part of this though, to me, is that we see from certain throwaway bits ("one bullet is two slices of pizza/two dozen donuts!", his kid self's eagerness at the sight of the birthday cake and the spread of food, his first question on seeing the geranium being to wonder if it is edible) that he not only needs to eat but also seems to enjoy eating - so his refusal to eat is not only a denial of a basic necessity but also of one of the few things he genuinely likes that he will allow himself to partake in. In the context of Rem framing food as something to share with everyone, it also makes me wonder if his self-denial is something along the lines of "I don't deserve to share this with them". In that sense, it's really important that Luida echoes a similar sentiment as Rem (implying she wants to share this food/include him, and that some of Rem's views survive in these remaining people).
I do wonder if, because food is associated with sharing to him, that it has something to do with needing to "earn a place at the table" in a way. While I think Luida was trying her best to juggle a lot on Ship 3 behind the scenes after the fall and clearly didn't want to keep Vash locked up like that, the crew only started treating him better and trusting him after he found a way to help them. The unfortunate view that Vash receives then is: "I need to earn their trust by being helpful." Vash is a chronic people pleaser - I can't think of a single point where he does something solely for his own benefit. He has no desire to scare or harm anyone (quite the opposite!) so he goes out of his way to be as helpful and non-threatening as possible - hiding his true nature as a Plant (to such an extent that he doesn't know anything about his powers and has effectively sealed them away - he's practically human), masking his facial expressions by cleverly hiding his face or letting the light reflect off his glasses, trying to laugh off his competence as luck and his scars as embarrassing.
Is it because he doesn't want to scare people? Is it because he doesn't want to feel othered from them? It's hard to say. It's probably a bit of both.
Nai accuses Vash of loneliness and desiring love, and of seeking to fill that gap by appeasing humans. While I don't think this is necessarily wrong, it can't possibly be accurate as a core motivation, since Vash doesn't seem to really... accept a lot of positive interaction. Whether out of concern for others' safety, a lack of feeling like he deserves it, being secretive about his past and identity, or some combination of the above, Vash tends to leave a lot. He leaves Jeneora Rock's celebration early, tries to walk away from Meryl even as she's calling out to him, runs away from Home when Brad and Luida listen to the recording. He throws walls up and distances himself by laughing things off, or smiling, or simply not explaining anything.
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I mentioned this during my live blogging while watching episode 9, but as Independents, it's intriguing to me that both Vash and Nai exist outside the cycle of dependence we see between the Plants and the humans - both of which cannot survive without the other. Nai appears to revel in this detachment, but Vash also seems to self-impose a certain distance between himself and everyone else - for all his friendliness and inability to leave someone hanging who needs help, he practices a lot of recognizably avoidant strategies. He exists on the periphery, never staying in one place too long (he can't), and treating every interaction with a certain kind of resignation - an understanding that it is temporary. He seems to expect the inevitability of being chased out over and over. The slightest of kindnesses given to him he always feels incredibly grateful for. Perhaps he feels that kindness is more than he deserves.
I honestly dread to think how he'll react once he regains his memories of what happened to July. I trust that he'll keep pushing on, as he always does, but is he going to remember that he deserves to eat and smile?
I really hope so. Otherwise I will need Meryl and Wolfwood to bonk him on the head.
Pacifism and Conviction
The thing about Vash's pacifism is that it's very difficult to tell whether it is primarily motivated by love or guilt. Vash carries an incredible amount of survivor's guilt with him and he absolutely is doing his best to keep Rem's memory alive, but I don't think it can be denied that he isn't just acting out Rem's beliefs - he really does believe in them himself. He's also genuinely compassionate and does care and become invested in the well-being of others. In the end, I'm not sure it really matters. I don't think the guilt or love can be easily extricated from each other at this point; they are both powerful drivers of his actions and core to his identity as a person, and while this is not exactly ideal for getting him to be kind to himself, they both strongly feed into his continuous choice to be kind to others.
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And it is a choice, not naivety, as pacifism is so often brushed off as. Vash's compassion is something he chooses over and over again, in spite of the way he is often treated, and the way his powers hold far more potential for destruction than even Knives. Wolfwood thinks that Vash doesn't understand harsh realities and is going to receive a rude awakening but he does understand - Vash just chooses not to accept violence as the only way forward and believes that things can change and improve, and is willing to expend that energy and extra hurt into making that a reality. Nai thinks Vash is helpless and brainwashed into his belief - note the way Vash frequently appears as his child self when Nai tampers with his Gate or his memories; the implication here is that Nai sees Vash as incapable of making choices for himself and in need of protection - but not only is this horribly demeaning to Vash's personhood, it simply isn't true. Even Meryl chews him out for what looked like running away to her early on, and Roberto thinks he's going to get himself killed sooner or later. Everyone underestimates Vash, at least at first. And well, it's easy to. He's just a silly little guy! He's a bleeding heart who tries to help everyone he comes across! He talks about nobody needing to die in a world where most everyone is starving and desperate! To the people in-universe, he would look like a total fool, and far too idealistic to last long.
Except, he has. He's around 150 years old, he's scarred to hell and back, but he's still alive and he still chooses kindness. That takes a special kind of improbable mental resilience and stubborn conviction - and that's what most of the other characters overlook. Vash is, indeed, very sensitive and emotional and an idealist - he's also much tougher and more rational than hardly anyone gives him credit for. He's an excellent judge of character too!
His ideals and that stubborn faith are everything that makes Vash who he is.
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This scene in episode 12 is the only true moment of triumph in what is otherwise a tragedy all around. Nai would go as far as to destroy Vash’s very identity to get his brother back, but at the cost of losing everything that makes him Vash. These ideals are the core of “Vash the Stampede”, and no matter how foolish they may seem or how little others understand his conviction, this is an identity he has chosen for himself. It’s who he is. And this assertion, coming directly on the heels of Nai trying to erase him and remove that autonomy, is an undeniable brief triumph in the midst of it all. Nai will always be Vash’s brother, and he will always love him I’m sure, but they diverged in their persons a long, long time ago, and Vash adamantly refuses to be an extension of or accomplice to his brother’s crusade of hatred… even if that means going against him.
Vash’s kindness is so necessary to a world like the one we see in the series, on the verge of extinction and giving up. Approaching situations with understanding and communication is really the only way to help improve understanding amongst others - and this is one of his biggest strengths; it's even reflected in his use of his Plant abilities (communicating between himself and the other Plants, the way he can open a path both to and from the higher dimension unlike anyone else). In this way, Vash is something of a necessary conduit. I just wish he'd let himself feel a little more tbh. He represses a lot - he canonically won't allow himself to cry if he feels responsible, any flashes of anger are brief, he doesn't stick around to have fun really. Personally, I'd like to see him allow himself grief through tears, a little bit of genuine letting loose and celebrating, and actually expressing things like irritation and annoyance next season. Perhaps that's wishful thinking.
I don't know how to accurately summarize my thoughts on Vash well enough other than to say, in keeping with the whole Plant thing, he reminds me strongly of dandelions. Bright, cheery, grow through cracks and root where you don't expect them to ever be able to eke out a living. Regarded as a weed by many but very difficult to get rid of. Hardy, resilient, and pop back up after being beaten down. Kids make wishes on them.
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Anyways. Hugs him hugs him hugs him x 60,000,000,000
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YOUR WRITING>>>>>
I don't know how you came up with Naga Scaramouche but I've been brain rotting for days now 😩
Do you have any ideas how'd he'd react if someone goes out of their way to look for reader after they disappeared?
Especially if they mightve been a love interest at some point or the person clearly has feelings for them 👀
(referring to this)
A friend of mine actually came up with the idea for naga scara!! Together, we fleshed out the plot. It wasn't originally a fic, though, it was just a rp that got me brainrotting afterwards. I couldn't stop thinking about the whole concept until I finished writing Hidden in the Sands. The fic literally wouldn't leave me alone unless I was working on it LMAO
I'm going to take this as an excuse to talk a bit about the behind the scenes here (you have NO idea how much I've wanted to infodump about this fic)–originally, the reader was actually my friend's interpretation of Lumine and Sanad was originally my Alhaitham. I also played the part of Kuni himself. It was a bit awkward, actually, because Alhaitham and Kuni had to talk to each other a little bit and it felt like I was talking to myself.
I've changed the personalities of the reader and Sanad greatly, as you might have already guessed, since Sanad behaves nothing like Alhaitham; Sanad's more like one of those "prime examples" that Alhaitham talks about when he says, "Book learning alone is not enough to cultivate intelligence." Sanad is, intentionally, a very flawed but still reasonably likeable character. I want to talk about him too. Oh boy, looking back on this I sure did talk a lot about an OC I don't think anyone genuinely cares about.
I wanted to make him come off as normal, like an actual human person. He really is just a regular dude, he's just been kinda brainwashed by the Akademiya, as shown by the lines, "The Akademiya has declared them to be just baseless nonsense, so of course I don't think they actually exist." and "Desert dwellers tend to be... fearless." He's absorbed many commonly held beliefs (and biases) in the Akademiya, a textbook example of someone who's been taught what to think rather than how to think. I wanted him to be realistic. However, he's still funny, charming, and overall good-willed, even if he's spineless and very easily led.
I've greatly changed the fic from the original rp, and only the base premise (yandere!naga!scara and the whole "commissioned to find the culprit for some strange murders in the Hadramaveth") remains the same. It went through several versions at first. In fact, before I came up with Sanad, I was going to have Cyno replace Alhaitham! But ultimately, I realized Cyno was actually competent and I might have had to write a proper fight scene, which I did not want to do. You can still see a remnant of the first draft I chose to leave in (from when Cyno was the disposable companion) in the bad joke Sanad tells at the beginning of the story.
Using Sanad also had other benefits that I feel helped pull the fic together!! His cowardly nature gave reader a chance to endear themselves to Kunikuzushi, for refusing to abandon Sanad even after he (frankly, understandably) ran away. Even this early on, I had decided that whatever backstory naga Kuni might have had, it absolutely had to revolve around betrayal since canon Kuni's backstory is so deeply tied to it.
It's a really minor pet peeve of mine, and it doesn't bother me too much, but I usually don't really like it when the yandere starts to fixate on the object of their obsession for no reason than, like, "love at first sight" or "they simply caught my eye for some vague reason I cannot put into words." It's not bad, per se, and it's not even a solid rule of mine! I can think of several fics I love that don't give a solid reason, though the characters in those have such a dynamic that you still understand why one became so interested in the other to begin with... (I'm making this more complicated than it is, I think, but I'm beginning to think it's just I just don't care for it when the MC has the depth of a piece of paper.) Anyway, I'm getting derailed again, but I chose to give Kuni a reason to empathize with the reader in the form of Sanad and his "betrayal" because of this preference of mine.
However, and I think I've touched on this a bit in a previous post, this wasn't the only reason Kuni decided to spare them. In fact, even after he decided to leave you for last, he still thought he was going to come back to kill you. What really interested him was your insistence on saving Sanad even after what Kuni perceived as a betrayal. Why would you try to help someone who didn't even make an attempt to help you? It doesn't make sense. You're too soft, it's endearing.
Whether or not Sanad's actions are justified is debatable, though I personally understand them. He's never fought in his whole life. If you, the experienced monster-fighting adventurer couldn't do it, how could he? He doesn't even have a sword. It's certainly cowardly and rude to say the least, but given the circumstances, I think it's the choice most people would make in that situation. Of course, it's absolutely something Kunikuzushi could have (and did) twist into something completely different. I think I made it pretty obvious, but contrary to what Kuni said, Sanad had no such malicious thoughts when he left you there. Kuni is extremely jaded; his perception of the world has been mostly shaped by the betrayals he's experienced, and he's no different in this AU. As I said before, Sanad's not a terrible person, just terribly average. If he had survived, he absolutely would have had survivors' guilt.
Anyway!!! I'm not sorry about the infodump, thank you for giving me the slightest reason to tell you all about it. Here's what you actually asked for.
Kuni views most people as inconsequential, little more than helpless ants. He doesn't care about them in the slightest. If anything, they irritate him. So when someone shows up–an old friend, a crush, anyone–his first thought is to get rid of them if they venture too far in, and especially if they see him. Even if he doesn't know that they know you. If he lets them go, more will come. If he finds out they're looking for you, specifically... well, it doesn't really change his plans. He's going to kill them no matter what.
It does motivate him though, to be a bit crueler, to make it last a bit longer. What they are to you doesn't change the outcome, but it might sour his mood a bit more if they were anything more than friends or family. It's not likely that he'll leave them be long enough to find this out, though. Logically speaking, they're probably not going to tell a monster like him all about the friend/family/crush they're looking for in this desert, especially not when he's clearly unfriendly.
It's not totally impossible, though. This hypothetical person would have heard all about the strange attacks (as mentioned in the fic), so seeing a large half-snake person could make them realize that Kuni was most likely the cause for your disappearance (even though they'd assume it was murder and not kidnapping). Even so, I doubt they'd have a little chat over tea about who all Kuni has murdered recently.
Anyway, I digress. Assuming he figures it out somehow, whether or not he tells you about them depends on his mood and your behavior. Unfortunately for you, dealing with people irritates him. Especially when they're specifically looking to take what's his from him.
He'll come back covered in blood either way, but if he's in a bad mood, or you haven't been on your best behavior, he'll tell you all about what they looked like. He makes sure to mention that they were looking for you, and describe in detail everything he did to them.
"I'm going to leave his corpse out to rot in the sun," he hissed into your ear, pulling away to look you in the eye, "for the vultures and serpents to feast on. It serves him right. He was on a fool's errand; it's impossible to retrieve what's lost to the sands."
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hinatastinygiant · 8 months
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1 | A Literary Affair
Pairing: Sanzu x Fem!Reader
The Book of Salvation
The red carpet stretches out before you like a river of shimmering lights. You stand in the spotlight, side by side with your two closest friends, Nairobi and Amaya. Cameras click constantly, capturing the heart of the fleeting moment.
Nairobi, a vibrant presence on your right, has her hair woven into two buns, flaming her face like a crown. Reddish-brown glasses sit across her nose, adding an intellectual edge to her style. 
A reporter approaches Nairobi, a microphone held out like an offering. "Nairobi, your influence in journalism and activism is undeniable. What's your next battleground for change?"
Nairobi's smile is a sunbeam breaking through clouds. "Thank you. I'm turning my attention to giving voice to the LGBTQ+ community in African and Asian societies. Their narratives deserve a spotlight, and I'm committed to shining a light on their journeys."
Amaya, standing on your left, is a portrait of elegance. Dark hair cascades down her shoulders like a waterfall against her skin. She radiates an air of quiet confidence, a visual effects virtuoso in her own right.
A different reporter turns to Amaya, their curiosity evident. "Amaya, could you share the intricacies of your recent project?"
Amaya's eyes gleam with pride. "My recent venture involved crafting intricate digital landscapes for a film. The challenge lies in translating the director's vision into pixels while honoring authenticity which I'm so glad I was able to accomplish."
The reporter's intrigue then lingers. "And if 'Dawn of a New Era' makes its cinematic debut, would you weave your visual effects magic into it?"
Amaya's gaze shifts to you, a knowing smile playing on her lips. 'Dawn of a New Era' is your book, your baby, and she'd be more than thrilled to get to be a part of it. "Absolutely. If the stars align, I'd be honored to lend 'Dawn of a New Era' a touch of visual marvel."
Amid the sea of camera flashes and applause, lenses begin to swivel towards a towering figure entering the scene. Amaya gasps softly, her eyes widening like a child's. Following her gaze, you see what the paparazzi are so excited about- Haruchiyo Sanzu, the heartthrob of Earthpig, the new musical sensation everyone's talking about.
Nairobi leans toward you, her voice a playful tease, "He's a fine sight, isn't he? If I were even in his league, I'd be swooning."
You smile at her comment. "He is, but what's all the fuss? Did they drop new music or something?"
Amaya shakes her head. "When the rising star in the music world dyes his hair back to pink, everyone wants to get the first look."
Sanzu's eyes meet yours for a moment, and your heart stops. It feels almost silly to have such a moment, but he truly is quite handsome. But then Amaya breaks the spell, causing you to look away. "Aw, Nairobi, you are in his league. If you're interested, you should totally go for it."
Just as she finishes speaking, a reporter redirects your attention once again. "Could you please remind us of the premise of your recently published book, 'Dawn of a New Era'?"
"Of course," you smile. "It's a romance thriller set in an apocalyptic world," you then add, managing a composed smile despite the flash of the cameras competing for your attention.
As you continue to answer questions, Sanzu's ability to move through the reporters as if they were transparent draws your gaze. But then, another reporter seizes the opportunity to ask, "Did you mean for your book to come to a rather predictable ending?"
Your words falter, the unexpected question catching you off guard. Luckily, you haven't had to face much criticism for your new book, but right now you're starting to get overwhelmed. You look toward your friends who are now a small distance away, both in their own small interviews.
Then, another question comes. "Did you steal from Miki Okawa's 'Gomorrah'?"
Your reply to this one is swift. It's not the first time you've been accused of something like this. "No. I would never do that."
Your gaze involuntarily returns to Sanzu, his eyes locked on yours once more. This time, however, he's making his way in your direction. Your heart quickens, and a gulp passes your lips. Suddenly, the weight of the situation dawns on you.
"Sorry, that's all the time I have," you manage to say, feeling the nervousness creep into your voice. All you want is to return to your friends' side.
However, the swarm of reporters inches you away from your friends. Panic bubbles up as you struggle to manage the stream of questions and the relentless camera flashes.
Before you can fully exit the frustrating situation, a comforting hand lands on your shoulder. You turn, and there he is – Haruchiyo Sanzu, the heartthrob of Earthpig, standing by your side.
Sanzu's presence immediately instills an unexpected calm within you, even as your heart races because the commotion of the event just landed on your shoulder! You're too aware that this moment will be all the talk for weeks to come.
In a move that both unsettles and strangely comforts you, Sanzu slides his arm around your shoulder and places his hand on your arm. The cameras continue to click relentlessly, capturing this moment from every angle. You manage a tense smile, feeling the pressure of the cameras and the curious eyes of the crowd.
You can't help but voice your confusion quietly, "What are you doing?"
With a gentle firmness, he spins you around so his back faces the paparazzi, effectively shielding you from their intense surveillance. "I saw you struggling out there," he admits, his voice carrying a genuine concern.
You scoff, trying to dismiss the unexpected assistance. "This isn't my first red carpet, you know."
A small smile tugs at his lips, a hint of knowing in his eyes. "I'm aware. I've seen you before. But I've never seen you get this much heat for your book before."
"I guess you've got a point there," you scoff. "Sometimes I wish it didn't get that popular."
Although you speak aloud to him, heat rushes to your face as you slowly begin to realize what he's just admitted to you. But before you can address it, his attention shifts back to the crowd. With an authoritative tone that surprises you, he addresses the photographers, "Give us some space, please."
It's strange. His voice carries a rare combination of authority and kindness, momentarily mesmerizing the photographers. Much to your surprise, they begrudgingly comply, creating a buffer between you and the relentless flashes.
In the brief moment of silence, you find yourself face to face with Sanzu once again, your chest nearly touching his. "Thank you," you say softly, still shocked that the idol from Earthpig has come to your rescue.
"You're welcome," Sanzu replies. Without hesitation, he then takes your hand and leads you away from the chaotic red carpet, guiding you to a quieter corner of the venue. Concern is etched on his face. "Are you alright? Damn, those photographers can really be relentless."
You nod, appreciating his concern. "Thanks to you, I am now."
His smile is reassuring, but your thoughts linger on the touch of his hand, wishing for that warmth again.
As the conversation flows, Sanzu extends an invitation that catches you off guard. "You know, there's an afterparty at my place. Would you be interested in joining?"
You pause for a moment, then grin. "Only if I can bring my friends."
He chuckles. "The more, the merrier."
You hand him your phone, and he smoothly texts himself his address. With a wink, he gives you a playful smile. "I'll see you then."
Just as he walks away, your friends appear, practically squealing with excitement. Nairobi's eyes widen. "This is amazing! I can't believe he was flirting with you."
You laugh, your disbelief mirroring theirs. "I can't believe it either."
Amaya's curiosity can't be contained and she asks, "So, are you gonna... you know, hook up with him?"
You shake your head, a grin playing on your lips. "Of course not, that'd be gross and weird, especially since I've got his number."
Amaya gasps, her eyes fixated on your phone. "Oh my god, I can't believe it."
Nairobi's playfully accusing tone enters the mix. "You bitch! How did you manage that?"
With a shrug, you admit the truth. "Honestly, I have no idea. But if you're in, we can all head to his afterparty later."
Simultaneously, both Nairobi and Amaya exclaim, "Of course!"
The Book of Salvation
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roscgcld · 3 years
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HEADCANON + GOJO SATORU || the gojo twins
request: HELLO^^ so I’ve been wondering this so long but do you think it would even be possible if Gojo had a twin sister that also has the sixth eye ? Probably not but, I’d kinda want to know what the clans higher ups and curses react to 2 sixth eye user.
note: I am glad I am not the only one thinking about this lol. like what if they were two gojos? absolute chaos the world has ever seen. i love it, this entire prompt lives in my head rent free lol
pronouns: she/her
gojotwins!au masterlist
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imagine the other clan’s reactions when they learn that not one, but two of the gojo clan’s newest heirs were born with the highly coveted Six Eyes?
gojo satoru and y/n - the newest members of the gojo clan, twins that are born with the Six Eyes. a first case that has ever happened in the family’s history. it was this monumental moment when the higher ups realise that things are going to be interesting
by the way - you’re the older twin lol. just so you can poke jabs at gojo for the rest of your life by using the line. “i’m the older sibling here!”
“only by like, two minutes!”
that being said though, over-protective twin brother who will scare all your boyfriends/girlfriends the first time they meet because of his height and overly nice personality that scares people even more
you’re just as bad though - if any girl or guy walks out of his room after a night of fun you will probably be a little bitch and make them feel awkward until gojo wakes up
“can’t you be a little nicer to them?” gojo groans after the person he slept with last night quickly left after an awkward cup of morning coffee with you. “I actually liked them a lot.”
but it’s all done with love, and if the other realise their significant other makes them happy, they will back off
the moment you two entered jujutsu tech, then yaga-sensei was about to hand in his retirement slip early with the sheer chaos that his year of students were bringing him 
ieiri was delighted that she wasn’t going to be the only girl at school; geto was amused how you two were basically copy and paste of each other, just in different genders
surprisingly enough, think you’d be the one who’d be the more studious and definitely more interesting in learning how to hone your skills better - gojo probably still has this ‘i am the strongest’ mentality that the elders planted in him because ✨misogyny✨
but he loves to compete with you - and you’re the only one who’d he ever admit defeat to, and will defend your honour whenever the elders talk down on you because you’re a girl. and to them, girls are just meant to be ‘a pretty face with strong genes to bring a strong generation into the world’
he’s probably the one who talked your elders out of arranging a marriage between you and an heir to another important family like the kamo clan - because there is no way in hell is he going to let some random ass man take you away from him
probably joking told you that if all else fails, to marry geto on the spot - and let’s be honest here, who wouldn’t? Geto looks so damn fine both the anime and especially in the Gojo Past Arch. rail me daddy-
*cough cough*
anyway - ever since that comment, geto and you might pretend to flirt with each other to get gojo riled up. playfully brushing your hand along his arm, playing with his hair between your fingers whenever you two talk, geto leaning close to you to whisper something in your ear with a smirk, or him resting his hand around your waist whenever he leads you about
it always gets gojo riled up, and he’d get in between the both of you; whining for you to give him attention instead
you probably sneak into his room, even as you got older, to hide in his arms whenever you have a nightmare - and he’d wordlessly just hold you close and cuddle you to sleep again no matter how old you two are
both of you share the same braincell - same reactions, expressions, and sometimes even finishing each other’s sentences. sometimes you two even say the same thing at the same time, to which you two just high five each other with a laugh 
freaks everyone out a little, since it’s just so random and natural for the both of you to do it 
nanami hates it whenever he has to accompany you two - as his senpais, he can’t complain much. he does learn a lot, yet at the same time, he can’t stand it when the both of you are sent on a mission together 
with you he’s fine; but he barely tolerates gojo 
ijichi loves you, since you compliment him on the smallest of things, or smile at him warmly whenever he does something right; may have a crush on you that he refuses to reveal to anyone
both of you probably have shopping trips every weekend; don’t tell me you two don’t splurge on clothing when you two can charge whatever it is you want to the gojo clan account 
you two probably got a lot of those roadside modelling offers - and sometimes you’d probably even joke about leaving the whole jujutsu world behind to become a model instead
“i mean - it pays. and all i need to do is sit and look pretty.”
a lot of ‘did not!’ and ‘did too!’ arguments all day long 
you two love to taunt the Curses together before you kill them - it makes them only more scared, but the ‘chase more fun’
“say, toru - it looks so weak for a semi-first, no?”
“must be a new born - how pathetic.”
bags of candies all over the place - somehow he got you addicted to candy as well, so whenever you two travel, you always buy different candies and different treats 
when geto betrayed you all in your third year, gojo turned to you as his pillar of familiarity; even more so when he was force to kill his best friend a few years later. the both of you leaned on each other as you start to pick the pieces of yourselves once more
both you and your brother share the same idea of changing the jujutsu world from the inside out, so you two decided to take up teaching together under the command of now principal yaga
poor man is deciding if he now regrets accepting both of your applications 
you took in megumi as your own by the way - so megumi respects you a lot since you’re like the mother he never had. but at the same time, he wouldn’t be surprise if he heard that you do something stupid with your twin brother
feel like gojo and you will spend your free time probably trying to unlock more secrets of the Limitless and how to use your Six Eyes better - and Gojo will teach you how to probably use Hallow Purple and how to use Reverse Cursed Techniques with the held of ieiri as well
you took in maki, inumaki and even panda as your own kids as well - teaching them whenever gojo is forced to go and solve some issue the higher ups throw at him; making the kids super protective of you
even when yuta came, you didn’t care about the special grade curse that was stuck inside of him; treating him like an actual person and training him up and build his confidence once more
when you heard what happened to the special-grade cursed object that megumi was tasked on taking the following year, you laughed your ass off for 10 minutes while megumi tried not to show his annoyance
“y/n-sensei, i almost died. it is not funny.”
but you still took yuji in as your own child, and when you were giving him a tour around campus, you raised an eyebrow when a pair of lips appeared on the side of his cheek
“even though i want to kill that white haired bastard, i might spare your pretty little face.” 
“hello to you too, sukuna.” you greeted with a smile while yuji slapped a hand over the mouth, apologising to you with a wild blush on his face. you just laughed and reassured the poor boy it was alright
when nobara came, you adopted her as well; and she loves you, and loves how in tune with the trends you are. you two even have a girl’s night where you talk about everything that happens and have a few rants about boys
all in all - highkey chaotic, but with more common sense then your younger twin brother gojo and knows how to act professional whenever you need to. you also tend to adopt all the students that walks through your doors, and they view you as a parental figure as well. you and your brother are a menace together, but you two get things done and no one can really complain
gojo is protective, but when it comes to you it’s worse lol. but you’re just as bad when it comes to making sure ‘your baby brother’ is safe. you two tend to be super sassy and throw shade at each other, but when it comes down to the basics, you two love each other a lot and will go the extra mile to make sure that each other are safe
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© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform
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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years
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Hi <3 I'm not sure if you're comfortable writing this but I'll try :) Smth where Buckys girlfriend suffers from a lung illness and normally he supports her whenever she feels bad, but one time he's on a long mission where he cant be there when he struggles breathing. Then the other Avengers at the compound take her to the hospital and call Buck who immediately rushes home to be by your side and it's all cute and fluffy in the end? :) Thank you very much <3
Trapped Air
Pairing | Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary | whilst on a mission, you suffer with your breathing problems, leaving all to panic as you have air trapped in your lungs.
Warnings | breathing problems, angst, mentions of death, swearing, mentions of torture
Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬
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There had been no call back from Bucky; he was on a mission far away, and deep undercover, and the fact that you had no response did not surprise you, however, it was impossible not to feel overcome with worry.
From what you knew, he was somewhere in Austria with Steve, and most likely irritated by the company of Sam. The thought of them together, waiting for further intel made you smile, and so you sat up on the sofa; the place where you had fallen into a rural slumber late the previous evening. That thought also made you lightly snicker to yourself, and had you grasping your chest in agony at the action.
You adjusted your seat on the sofa, kicking the blanket under your legs as you tried to relax your entire body. To subdue the worry for your love that you had and were experiencing, you and Nat had watched a movie, your head running with thoughts of the danger that your boyfriend was possibly under.
It was no doubt that James Buchanan Barnes, the White Wolf and former Winter Soldier was a fine fighter; he had endured and survived wars, achieving victory in the vast majority of his battles. But still, he was nothing more than a man, with a veil of serum coursing through his veins, and whilst it made him much stronger, he was still sustainable to injury, and worse.
Countless times had you seen him braised in bruises, and kissed along the seam of his scars, and though he had lived through decades, and still appeared unscathed considering the circumstances, he was a mortal man, able to die and it was far too clear for your scared eyes that he wouldn’t be able to survive every fall.
An emptiness peeled away inside of you as you placed the phone down, resting your head upon the arm of the sofa of where you had done so priorly. Taking a deep breath, you wheezed, feeling nothing more than internal pain, and it was not just for your longing to see Bucky again. It was indeed something else, a condition that you had grown used to over the years.
It had taken everything from you; the job that you had so well partook in was diminished to being unsuitable for your health. Being an avenger had once been your only purpose, but it had been the one thing that had broken you. From all the rubble and other pesticides that you had breathed in, it had tampered with your lungs, and made you to be nothing more than a victim, a fallen hero.
The worse thing about being fallen in such a way was that you had not died on the job, instead, you were being tormented every time you watched your friends leave the compound, carrying a duffel bag that had all the necessities that they could possibly need for the gruelling months ahead on the missions that they had been sent on.
Knowing that if you weren’t so inwardly broken and that if that were the case, you could have easily accompanied Bucky and the others on their uncover op made you feel worthless, and disposable. As your chest raked the air that surpassed its roots, it waded a feeling through every limb that was attached to you.
Large gulps from the air machine that was beside you usually helped, but as your brought the medically introverted oxygen mask to surround the lower half of your face, the torturous sensation failed to fade. It remained, stuck in the collapse of your airways, refusing to allow air into your defined bloodstream.
The factor alone had you panicking, and as you went to stand, there was a pounding fire coursing through your head. Your eyes got dreary, fluttering as you reached out to grasp for the side of the seating area to stabilise your steps. But it wasn’t enough, all of your weight leant to one side, and a loud and colossal smash echoed through the room.
You helplessly laid there, having no ability to get up, as the shards of the glass table that had tried to break your fall, and had ended up breaking instead, stabbed mercilessly into the canvas of your back. It made you feel like a dartboard, free to the attempts of anything that put a bet on to try. This was your final fall from greatness, and if you weren’t to survive this, that would be o-
“Y/n.” A voice rushed out, as footsteps scrambled to come to your side. The silouhette of a blurry man knelt beside you, sickened with their own scheme of panic. “Nat!” He called out towards the kitchen, you hearing the pitter patter of her assumed footsteps that were toed in competent heels.
“Clint, what happened?” She asked, but giving him a break to compose his answer as she called warily out for FRIDAY, relieved when the AI answered her order. “Get one of Stark’s cars ready to go to the hospital, inform who needs to know. Y/n’s just had a nasty fall, and I assume more.”
“She was like this when I got in here.” Was the archer’s delirious response. His hands raised your head out of the cracked pieces, gently picking the sharp crystals out of your hair. He was sick with worry, he knew that you were touring a difficult road, one that no one else on the team could fathom to understand, but despite all that, he was still there for you, as were the numerous others.
Wearing his priceless suit, Tony rushed into the room, his brown eyes blown wide as he scoped the scene. “She’s losing consciousness.” Nat informed the pair, focusing on how your eyes barely had the strength to stay open. Your breathing was laboured, and the choke emitting from it was audible, making all witnesses wince from the threatening sound.
“My car is ready, on our way to the ER, give Barnes a call.” He held the keys to his vehicle, swinging them around his finger, as he watched Clint and Natasha hoist you up, and support you through the journey to the front of the compound. Nat stroked your hair as she bit back her own tears, combing tenderly through the slightly bloody tresses to soothe her own present anxiety.
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The mission was turning out to be a bust, they were tracking Zemo after his great escape; hence why their departure was classified. It was unknown why the once Baron of Sokovia had fled to the country, but all prior intel had supported the idea that he was searching for a partner to help finish his work, if he were to ever get caught by the American government again.
Bucky hated being away from the place that had slowly become his home. It made him feel lost, but if he wanted to remain within said area to continue his life, he had to follow Fury’s orders, or else the panel that had granted him freedom for all his past actions, may happen to change his mind.
The gig of being an avenger was more of Steve’s expertise, he was loved by the country, and had never tried to break its order down piece by piece. Before he was cleared to join the team, and the debate that lead to Steve and Tony siding against one another, he was nothing more than a tense ghost story.
All knew he was real, but most were too scared to admit that the Winter Solider was an assassinating figure in existence. To everyone’s dismay now, following rule number two, he was no longer HYDRA’s pet weapon. He, for the first time in his life, had some kind of clarity on who he was.
His identity, was James Bucky Barnes, the White Wolf, the protector of the world and a renounced ally of Wakanda. And he was happy to be known as such, in a way, the new him cleared his red ledger, and that faded away with that damned red book.
No one had the power to control his mind again, all of his actions were now completely up to him. At first, with the reign over himself, he had been unsure on how to start with this new and invented soldier that he had become. He was no longer taking refuge behind the facade of T’Challa’s country anymore, for he was no a wanted man of the state.
But Sam enjoyed prodding at his ‘cyborg brain’, driving him to certain frustration. Though, it did not matter as much, for he found the peace he had been searching for after that little bit of calm that he had experienced on his hideaway.
You. A retired avenger, that had kicked his ass, and continued to brag about it to this day, when he was under Pierce’s demeaning orders. Though, it saddened him, to have the knowledge that you no longer had the ability to pin him down on a training mat, or throw his best friend’s shield in his silent face.
There was no longer an ignition of strength to fight left within you, you were weak from the condition that had and was holding you hostage in its devastating grasp. The debts of your god deeds had wormed their way through your body, destroying it bit by bit.
Whenever he was away, missing the presence that you had once accompanied him with, he was unable but to do anything but worry about your struggling health. He feared that one day, he would get a call claiming that you had experienced a traumatic accident, and as he sat in the small and cluttered motel room, the vibrancy and life that his phone was off putting had him nervously on edge.
“It’s Fury.” He claimed to his rugged partners, putting the man that had regained control of his empire on loud speaker, awaiting for the patch wearing associate to respond to his acceptance of the call. A moment of silence had him standing, the next, caused him to pace. Steve frowned, well aware that Fury only went silent, and did not barking affirmative orders when something had happened.
That man was an absolute whore for the dramatics, he had even faked his own death on multiple accounts. There was nothing the man could fathom not to do, and this sure as hell, in the name of Goose, was not the first instance he had informed his recruits of shocking factors. Steve remembered when the dark clothed man informed him that he was in the 21st century, and to this day, it remained to be the greatest shock that he had experienced.
The second had got to be the reveal of Bucky’s survival, that heart stopping moment had gone in slow motion, as the soldat whipped his unmasked face around to face his opponents, and he was quickly recognised. You had been there to ease the confusion and the humongous shock that wired his brain. And not to mention, to soothe the wave of emotions, you had prompted at jokes at about kicking his best friend’s fine ass.
That had only been the start to a long road ahead, it had all seemed like your quad of rebelling would go on forever. Sam Wilson was your best friend, and the first to be told of your failure to continue your raids on missions, and to say that he was holding back fountains in his eyes, was a casual understatement. The Falcon had felt angry at himself for not realising the increase in coughs that fled from your sassy mouth, or how quickly you would get tired.
He put some of that blame upon himself, claiming that he should have been the first to notice the signs. It was his idea, before your struggles were revealed to anyone else, to refuse your aid on missions, which lead to conspiracies from the team. For a couple of weeks, the members that you had fought alongside for so long had speculated that you were pregnant,and even Bucky had even began to fall for that idea.
In the end, they had all wished for that to be true, a child would be a gift, whereas instead, you were bestowed with a curse. Sam had offered for you to stay with Sarah and the kids, but upon your insistence, you remained in the compound, organising files and watching cinematic classics for the thousandth time.
But anyone could see, that every time they discussed the missions, of left to endure them, your face fell, appeased by the thought that you’d never share that experience again. They all tried to distract you, Thor had even taken you on a vacation to New Asgard so that you could relax and play video games with Korg, yelling frustratedly at Noobmaster69 as the kid tried to spite your friend and his gaming skills.
That though, had not ended well, and instead, the noise had brought you insufferable pain, and you had to be taken home. But what was home anymore? You hardly felt as though you belonged upon the army of your friends, or the guardians that they were aligned with.
And so, it was very understandable why Bucky was inclined to worry. All his dragged our life, he had watched people die, or awakened from cryo to find them gone, and the split moments that he were required on missions, was another moment that he had lost with you.
He gulped as he waited for Fury to say something, anything! And when he did, he wished that he could go back in time, and stop you from ever having been an avenger. “It’s agent Y/L/N, something has happened...”
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It had been hours of no news, and Stark tapped his well dressed foot. He had requested, - no, insisted the best doctors to tend to your internal and external injury, claiming that if your condition was made any worse, he would personally make sure that they never tended to another patient again.
He was not usually one to be so aggressive, but he feared loss, it was a great flaw and attribute of his. Possibly, in some people’s judgemental eyes, he cared too much, but he never thought so. To him, the billionaire was human, no matter what the citizens over the world thought of him.
Sure, he wore an iron suit to protect the world, but beneath all the metal, he had a heart. And he’d be damned sure that he used it, and that it beat for a purpose. Natasha and Clint were either side of him, the assassins on her phone as she read the captain’s well written message.
“They’ve entered the country.” She spoke, referring to Sam, Bucky and Steve. It was a relief that they were going to be here soon, then they’d all look sane in comparison to Barnes. It was doubtful that he was holding himself together well, these hours had been torture to all of them, but he had actually been tortured in multiple gruelling occasions, but it was nothing in comparison to this.
One of the country’s best and devoted doctors opened the door to the room that you were being stabilised in, leading to all eyes waiting outside to stare hopefully at him. It was an intimidating thing, to have three avengers leaving him with one of their owns lives in his hands, he was not a hero. But to them, he was to be, they trusted him and the various recommendations that had suggested that he would be best suited to the deed.
The fact that he was the man in charge in this situation was to be great steak in his career, though, he would never be able to anyone, not even family, that he had saved the life of an avenger. Due to doctor patient confidentially, he was bribed into silence by the philanthropist himself, who was certain that he was fine for paying for the entire service himself.
Money had no importance to Tony, not as his friend was the patient that could have died. The man removed his sunglasses, sternly looking up at the kind doctor with pleading and urgent eyes, wanting to scoop every detail that he could from the eccentric medic. “How is she?”
The doctor gulped, well aware that there was a weight apparent on his shoulders, even when delivering any news. But this, was a whole new experience, he knew that you, the woman hoisted up in the hospital bed, had saved his coursing during the battle of New York. He was grateful, for everything that you had done, but simultaneously, felt the need to be careful with any tactic that he used to save your life.
“Well,” he licked his dry lips, watching as the Black Widow herself stared into his soul, “she’s stable, for now. And it would be okay if one of you went in, she’s currently in the midst of waking up. However, she is going to be unable to give much in the verse of a conversation, the oxygen mask that she’s wearing has to stay on, and it will not be a good if she tries to waste the breath she’s being given to talk.”
He was interrupted by the sound of competent running down the hall, it was as though the men dressed in their gear ignored the no running rule. But it was understandable, seeing as Bucky’s eyes were wild and wide, as he came to a stop and asked what was going on. Clint stood, bracing a hand upon his shoulder, before informing him the details they had just been given. “I think you should be the first to see her.”
Bucky didn’t argue with Clint, and instead, walked into the room, ensuring that he shut the door behind himself. He smiled painfully at the sight; there were so many tubes, and all the surrounding machines were lit up with statistics that he did not understand. Nevertheless, he looked towards the vacant seat beside your bed, and claimed it for his ass that you had once kicked.
Your eyes watched as he looked down upon you, your hands reaching to remove the mask, but he placed his hand upon your own, and replaced them to be upon your chest. “Shush darling, no talking, doctor’s orders.” He spoke, rubbing your cheek with his right hand, feeling the corner of the mask against the inside of his palm.
“Had me so worried doll, thought I was gonna lose you.” At the thought, a grimace presented itself of his woeful face, and to comfort him, you placed your fingers around his own, absentmindedly playing with them as you listened to his sincere voice. “On the way here, I spoke to Shuri, we are going to see if she can help you in anyway, as long as you’re okay with that. Does that sound good baby?”
Fluttering your eyelashes as you looked through their webbed curtain to stare lovingly at him, you nodded your head, ignoring the spiteful pains that emitted from where the glass had shallowly penetrated your scalp. “Alright, I’ll let her know. And I was thinking...” he waited for a moment to continue, being encouraged by the crease between his brow line.
“What if we stay in Wakanda, and we leave all this behind? We can still see people when they visit, and we can just, have some calm to ourselves. No missions, no aliens to fight, and no Zemo to chase. Or I was thinking, we go and live by Sarah, you love those kids, they’re basically your nephews, and we could take boat rides during the middle of the night, and help the people who live there, and...”
At his rambling, you smiled beneath the plastic system that was around your mouth, listening to him talk and talk about your future together. Yes, you missed missions, but you would give all that up for a normal and easy life, with Bucky Barnes.
590 notes · View notes
restlessfandoming · 3 years
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“the president and the troublemaker” (part 5) (chilumi fic)
“Lumine is the student council president and Childe is the school’s number one troublemaker. They cross paths more than they’d like. Especially when Childe finds out Lumine’s big secret. Highschool AU à la Kaichou wa Maid-sama.”
[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4]
hey all so sorry for the delay—i was playing through dragonspine and got busy with the holiday season too ;__;
[Fic Masterlist] // [AO3 Link]
the president and the troublemaker (part 5)
“You sure you got proper training?” Childe asked Lumine as he circled her, noting her various fighting forms. 
“I got training,” Lumine said, her muscles feeling shaky after holding her form for so long. “Proper might be stretching it.”
Childe raised a brow, and Lumine sighed, relaxing her body. “Classes are expensive,” she explained. “Even if I wanted proper training, I wouldn’t have been able to pay for it.” 
“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m teaching you for free,” Childe said. “Out of the goodness of my heart.” 
“Thank you, O Kind One,” Lumine said sarcastically. “Proper training didn’t even matter in Kaeya’s arena. It was kind of just like a free for all.” 
“That won’t pass here. The fighters here aren’t just some thugs off the streets; these people have had that proper training, and are going to quickly outclass you if you don’t get that training in as well.” 
“I thought you and Kaeya both said I was good at this?”
“Talent is one thing, but it will only get you so far. You’ve still got to train and hone your skills if you ever want to progress further and better yourself.” 
“You sound so wise.” Lumine tilted her head. “If only you could do this at school too, you’d stop causing so much trouble for me and my student council.” 
Childe shrugged, a smirk on his lips. “Where’s the fun in that?”
She rolled her eyes. “Alright, c’mon. This is the only time where I have to listen to you, so let’s get it over with.”  
With enthusiasm, he walked her through various forms of punches and kicks—foot placements, weight distribution, where to send her strength—and soon enough Lumine was sprawled on the soft gym floor, all of her muscles aching and sweat pooling on her skin. Childe sat a few feet away from her, stretching. 
“You’re not even breaking a sweat,” Lumine said between gasps of breath. 
He smiled. “Been doing this a long time.” 
She sighed. “I can’t wait for my first fight next week.” 
“You’re not nervous at all?”
“Of course not,” Lumine answered with a scoff. “I’ve been waiting for that paycheck for a while now.” 
“How interesting,” Childe said looking around the gym. “Your little Vice President brother not here today?” 
“No, he’s covering some student council work for me while I’m here,” she replied. 
“Oh? Finally delegating your work instead of doing it all yourself?”
“Yup. If there’s anyone I trust to do the work as competently as me, it’s Aether.” 
“You two are really close, then.”
“He’s my twin,” Lumine said. She glanced at Childe who in turn was looking out one of the large windows. She realized she knew nothing about him—except that he liked to stir up trouble wherever he went. “Do you have any siblings?” 
A small smile. “I do. Too many, in fact.” He held up his hand. “Five siblings.”
“Oh god.” Lumine grimaced. “There’s five of you running around out there?” 
He laughed. “C’mon, Pres. I’m not that bad once you get to know me, right?”
“I don’t know you.” 
“You wound me,” he teased. There was a slight pause. Then, “Two older siblings: one brother, one sister. Then three younger ones: two brothers and one sister.” He started counting them off on his hands. “Alexei, Misha, Anthon, Tonia, Teucer.” 
“So you’re the middle child,” Lumine noted. “Is that why you do all this? For attention?” 
“Nope,” he replied, shaking his head. “Haven’t I told you already? This is all for fun.”
“Fun,” she muttered. She was doing what she had to for her family; would it be so horrible to enjoy it along the way? Childe seemed perfectly happy where he was. Could she ever be the same way? How does he do it?
“Trying to figure me out, Pres?” Childe smirked. “I’m flattered.” 
She looked at him, at his glinting blue eyes, and rugged orange hair—scars running up and down his arms and legs. 
Don’t get too involved with him. Aether’s words rang out in her mind. 
“Absolutely not,” she said, quickly getting up off the floor. “Well, I think we should call it a day. Thanks for the training today.” 
As she was leaving the gym, she couldn’t help but feel like she was disappointing Aether somehow. 
But it was natural right? Childe was going to be coaching her for the foreseeable future, and they were bound to get closer. It didn’t mean she was going to become involved with whatever delinquent activities he was doing. She was just learning from him. 
She clenched her fist. Just...learning....
* * * 
The student council room was abuzz as the members rushed around, finishing their end-of-month reports: budgets, expenses, cataloguing—anything and everything that needed to be tracked. 
Soon enough, the room was flooded with the orange hues of the sunset, and the council treasurer, a soft-spoken student named Noelle, timidly walked up to Lumine’s desk. 
“Madame President?” she asked. “Some of the members were wondering if we could go home soon?” 
Lumine blinked. “Is all your work done?”
“Ah, n-no,” Noelle responded. She clasped her two hands together. “W-we just wanted to get home before it got too dark.” 
Amber came up beside Noelle, a worried expression on her face. “Yes, there have been reports of some creeps targeting high school girls and assaulting them at night.” She pursed her lips. “I know there’s still a lot of work to be done, but I think it’s safest if all of us leave earlier than usual.” 
Bennett stood up, thumb pointing to his chest. “No worries! Me and Xiao will do our best to protect you ladies! Right, Xiao?”
The council historian, Xiao, glanced up from his own paperwork. “Yes,” he agreed simply in his usual monotonous voice. 
“Hey, where’s Aether anyways?” Bennett asked Lumine. 
“He got called into work right after school today,” she told him. She looked at Amber and Noelle. “I agree, it would probably be safest if we all leave now.” Then, she pursed her lips. “But, like you said, there still is a lot of work to be done, and the deadline is the day after tomorrow…” 
“We can try finishing it all tomorrow then!” Amber suggested enthusiastically. 
Lumine shook her head. “It’s too much, even if we tried finishing it all tomorrow.” She stood up. “Okay, everyone is dismissed. I will stay behind and complete some things to make sure we can finish by tomorrow.”
“B-but, Madame President! What about you?” Noelle protested. 
“Don’t worry about me. My priority as your President is to make sure you all are taken care of.” Lumine gave them a small smile. “If I can’t protect you guys, and step up when you all need me, what kind of President would I be?” 
“I’ll stay behind to protect you!” Bennett offered. 
Lumine laughed. “Thank you, Bennett, really. But I need you and Xiao to make sure these ladies get home safe, okay?” 
Her council was all looking at her, expressions worn with worry. 
“I promise you, I will be okay.” Lumine walked to the door, gesturing out of it. “Now please: your President is ordering you all to go home.” 
After much reluctance, all the student council members were on their way: Bennett walking Amber home and Xiao walking Noelle home. 
Eventually, as the sky turned darker and darker, Lumine finished up enough work to ensure that her council could finish by their deadline. 
She walked through the school gates as the last of the sunlight was dipping below the horizon, and a little inkling of worry bubbled in her gut.
She shook her head. I’ll be fine, she thought, shaking out her hands to loosen them up—just in case she needed to throw out a few punches later. 
Walking a bit further, she mentally ran through all the forms Childe had taught her yesterday. For this kick, I need my right foot forward, then my arms need to be—
A hand clamped over her mouth from behind. 
An arm wrapped around her waist, trapping her own arms to her sides. 
Shit! Is this the attacker they were talking about earlier?!
She clenched her jaw. I’ll stop you right now, you creep!
Lumine brought her foot up, and slammed down on her attacker’s foot with all her force. They stumbled a bit, loosening their grip on her, which gave her the perfect opportunity to break out of their grasp, elbowing them in the gut. She heard them fall on the ground behind her. She spun around, raising her fists, ready to strike—
“Childe?”
The tall ginger let out a sheepish laugh while holding his side. 
“What the hell are you doing?!” Lumine blurted. 
He slowly stood. “Playing stalker, I guess.” He rubbed his side. “God, your elbow is strong.”
She clenched her fists. “Anyone else would report you to the cops right away.” 
“You need to be more aware of your surroundings,” Childe said, ignoring her comments. “Haven’t you heard the news recently?”
Lumine threw him a glare. “I have heard about it. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that attacker is you.” 
“Just keeping you on your toes, Pres.” He smiled, but something about it was...off. A little more strained than usual. 
“A simple warning would have been fine,” Lumine said. “I could have seriously injured you.” 
“Ah, but you didn’t,” he retorted. “If I was actually the attacker, you would have been knocked out by now.” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Let me walk you home.” 
Lumine gripped the strap of her school bag, walking away. “No thank you. Especially not after what you just did.”
“Lumine, wait—”
She stopped in place. He hadn’t ever said her name before, she realized, and her heart fluttered at how it sounded coming from him. Too close for comfort.
“Don’t you dare follow me,” she said through gritted teeth, continuing to walk home. 
After a bit, she glanced back, and Childe was still standing there, hands in his pockets, looking back behind at the school. 
Lumine trusted her brother more than anyone in the world. She knew he wanted the best for her, and she knew the best thing would be to do what Aether said: don’t get involved with Childe.
Then...why did it hurt to push him away?
* * * 
The next day, the student council was again in a hurry to get their work done on time, before the sun set. After stacking piles upon piles of papers on Lumine’s desk, the council collectively let out a sigh when the last stack was put down. 
“Aether isn’t here again?” Xiao asked. 
“Someone at his store quit suddenly, so he’s been called in to cover their shifts for now,” Lumine explained. “He sends his apologies.”
“Well, let’s get out of here quickly,” Amber said. 
Soon the council was walking through the hallways, towards the entrance, ready to part ways.
“Amber and I have to rush to the store before they close,” Bennett said, him and Amber already running down the halls. “We gotta get some supplies for our Outdoors Club!”
“Bye! Thank you for your work!” Lumine called after them. She turned to Noelle and Xiao. “Are you good to walk Noelle home, Xiao?” 
Xiao nodded. “What about you, Madame President?”
“Hey, I survived last night,” she said. “I’ll survive tonight as well. Plus, I have to help lock up anyways.” 
The boy frowned slightly. “If you insist.” 
“I do insist,” Lumine said quickly. “Thank you both for your work also. Get home safe, okay?”
“Thank you, Madame President,” Noelle responded softly. 
Xiao and Noelle walked away, and Lumine started to make her way around the school, locking up all the entrances. She had been such a stellar president that all the administration trusted her with this task if she and her council had to stay late into the evening. 
As she locked the last entrance, she heard footsteps behind her. 
She turned quickly, eyes scanning the entire hallway. 
But there was nothing there. The hall was empty, and it was silent. 
She let out an exasperated sigh. Maybe she was overworking herself again and her brain was playing tricks on her. She made her way towards the front gates. 
BZZZT!
The lights above her flickered then went out, plunging her into darkness. 
What?
“Don’t move,” a voice said behind her. 
“If you listen to us, we won’t hurt you,” a second voice added. 
Something plastic pressed into her back, and she recognized it as a taser. Then, someone started to wrap her arms in duct tape. They put a piece of tape across her mouth. 
They walked around her, looking down at her. One of the men was short and stocky, wearing glasses, while the other man was tall and thin, glassesless. 
“We’ve been watching you for a while, Lumine,” Glasses said. “And we’ve really gotten to know you. We know you’re such a good student council president.”
“Yes, so diligent and selfless,” No Glasses added. “Just relax, okay? We’ll show you a good time as your reward.” 
As they rambled, Lumine’s mind ran through all the possibilities of how to absolutely pummel them. 
The only thing stopping her was the taser, currently in Glasses’ hand; she couldn’t be hit by that, otherwise she was done for. 
She knew what to do. Now to just wait for the right moment. 
* * *
She’s taking longer than usual, Childe thought, leaning against the wall of the school building. A while had passed since he had seen the rest of her student council leave, which meant she was all alone now. 
Sure, she was going to be mad at him for coming here again, but he needed to. His thoughts wouldn’t settle unless he saw her get home safe. 
He knew she was more than capable on her own. She wasn’t weak. 
But she was human. And there are some bad people in the world, ready to do anything to hurt you, Lumine. 
He sighed, starting to walk away. Maybe she already left and I just missed it…
“Lumine.”
Childe froze. His head snapped to the door, eyes wide. He had barely heard it, but someone had said her name. Inside the school. 
He didn’t move a muscle, straining to hear more. 
“...so diligent…” another voice spoke. 
Two. There were two attackers.
Feeling the muscles in his body ignite, Childe quickly moved to the nearest window. 
An icy dagger ripped into his heart. 
Kneeling on the ground was Lumine, her arms bound, her mouth sealed, and two men were standing before her, one wielding a taser. The two men started walking towards her.
Childe’s face twitched, like he was subconsciously suppressing a snarl. 
He stepped back, winding his body up, ready to kick through the window and go flying in. 
Just as his foot shattered the glass, Lumine stood up, ripping through her bindings. 
Huh?
* * * 
Glasses and his friend started walking towards her, practically drooling. 
Now!
Lumine stood up, pulling her arms apart, and breaking through the duct tape bindings. She ripped the duct tape off her mouth.
“You know me?” Lumine shouted as the two men watched her with wide eyes. “You don’t know a single thing about me.”
Using their shock to her advantage, she kicked the taser out of Glasses’ hand, then grabbed him by his collar, easily throwing him over her shoulder. She turned her attention to No Glasses, who was still frozen in shock. She easily swung her fist at his face, and he passed out on the floor next to Glasses. 
Standing over their bodies, breathing heavily, a loud burst of laughter sounded behind her. Leaping back, ready to strike another attacker, she stopped when she saw who it was.
“Childe?!” she cried between heavy breaths. 
Childe continued laughing hysterically, then wiped at the corners of his eyes. “Just...wow,” he managed to get out. 
Lumine looked past him. Her jaw dropped. “Th-the window!”
Childe blinked, then looked behind him. “Oh. About that…”
* * *
After giving their reports to the police, Childe and Lumine stood side by side as the police car drove away, the two perpetrators locked away in the back of the cruiser. 
“You’re really going to pay for the window?” Lumine asked, breaking the silence. 
“Of course. I broke it.”
“It’s going to be expensive.” 
He shrugged. “A small price to pay.”
Lumine bit her lip. 
He came to my rescue. Again. She looked at the shattered glass on the floor. He was really ready to save me.
All she had done was push him away. And yet, here he was, by her side, coming to her rescue again. 
“Thank you,” Lumine said softly. 
Childe looked at her, his eyes slightly widened. Then a smile, just as soft. “Anytime.”
She returned the smile, and it felt okay. It felt right. 
Maybe Aether was wrong. Afterall, he wasn’t the one spending time with Childe and learning more about him. How Childe could be caring and selfless and so patient with her.
Yes. Aether, I think…
...I think you may be wrong about Childe.
* * *
[part 6]
241 notes · View notes
kodzukenscorner · 4 years
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Ushijima, Sakusa, Iwaizumi, and Kita with a swimmer S/O
anon asked: Hii 🥺🥺 can I request a professional swimmer! Fem Reader x Ushijima, Sakusa, Iwa and Kita. How would they support them when there s/o have a competition but the boys are busy and just watching thru mobile or tv? Like there s/o is competing for gold medal and she won. I’m quite curious on how this’ll turn out. Thank you so much!!!
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Ushijima
He is your workout buddy whenever you need him
He’s not very talkative but he shows you how much he cares by always being there for you
He also does his best to try and give you advice and even send you videos of different swimmers to help you out and give you some inspiration
Greatly admires you and is always extremely supportive
He’ll even start swimming a bit to help him with his fitness and in exchange he teaches you some volleyball moves
Absolutely loves being with someone who is an athlete because you both understand how much work and effort it takes
Unfortunately that means that your schedules sometimes overlap and you can’t always make it to each other’s games and competitions
But he always makes sure that if he can’t be there in person, he still watches your performances 
Even now when he’s stuck at practice, he’s still watching your competition on his phone, his whole team surrounding him and watching over his shoulder 
He points you out when the camera pans over to you with an unheard of amount of pride in his voice 
The second you dive into the water, he’s holding his breath until he feels like he’s about to pass out
No one seems to notice how tense he is though
The second you win and he realizes you won gold he takes his first breath
Everyone else is busy cheering and patting him on the back while he just stares at you getting your medal with a rare smile on his face 
He finishes up his practice with a flawless performance until he can finally head home and see you again
When you come home with your medal after a long day of competitions and interviews he welcomes you into his arms
It’s a bit surprising since he isn’t usually so affectionate but you’re not complaining and hug him back, relaxing in his hold
“The whole team watched, I’m so proud of you”
You smile at him before giving him a peck on the cheek
“I’ll be watching when you get your gold too”
Sakusa
He doesn’t say it a lot, but he is so ridiculously proud of you
But he shows you through his actions instead
He’ll make sure you’re feeling well, he’ll work out with you, and even send you articles and videos he finds beneficial to help you out
And when his team brings you up he is surprisingly chatty
They love to tease him about how whipped he is for you but he honestly doesn’t even care about what they have to say 
He can actually go on and on about you and his team knows if they want to get him talking, all they have to do it bring you up and he won’t shut up
It’s a very interesting change of pace but if there’s one thing he’s good at it, it’s bragging about you
Even if he doesn’t enjoy crowds he goes to all of your competitions if he can because he loves you
But he can’t make it to all of them
One of your competitions took place right after one of his matches and there was no way he could make it in time so he watched it on his phone in the locker room
Sakusa is usually one of the first ones to leave so the team was surprised to see him still in the locker room on his phone
That is until they all noticed he was watching your competition and everyone got silent
They all watched with anticipation as you swam your way to gold
Then the locker room erupted into cheers and Sakusa wasn’t telling anyone to shut up
He was instead smiling under his mask like a goofball, and everyone could tell from the look in his eyes
He wasted no time after that and made his way to where you had just finished your competition and interviews
You were surprised to see him there but you were so overwhelmed with emotions that you just ran into his arms
He usually chastised you for PDA since he wasn’t a fan of it but instead he just held you close and whispered about how he was so proud of you and how all your hard work had paid off
You looked up to him with tears in your eyes and just couldn’t help pulling his mask down and kissing him
He normally would’ve pushed you off, but he could make some exceptions for a gold medalist
Iwaizumi
This mans...loves you so much
He doesn’t brag much but when someone brings you up he will literally not shut up about how beautiful you are and what a great athlete you are
It’s actually very cute how much he loves you but don’t tell him he’s cute or he will get very blushy 
But when it comes to you training and practicing he is like a mother 
He will make sure your form is perfect and that you’re properly stretching, eating, taking breaks, etc.
The last thing he wants is for his angel to hurt themself
And honestly you can’t complain because you know he just has your best interests at heart
And he also gives you massages when you’re feeling sore 
His hands are out of this world 
So it absolutely breaks his heart when he finds out he can’t make it to one of your biggest competitions ever 
He had to go out of town for a volleyball game and has been kicking himself over it 
He apologizes so much and sends you good luck texts the day of and reminds you to eat well and stretch properly
He holes himself up in his hotel room alone so he can watch you on TV in private 
He cheers so loud that the person in the room next to him had to text him and ask if he was okay
But he did not care one bit
He was over the moon to see you win gold and when he saw the tears prickling in your eyes, he nearly started crying too
He immediately facetimed you and the second you answered you were already in tears
He was dangerously close to crying himself but he kept it together long enough to congratulate and tell you how proud he was of you
“You were so amazing babe, I knew you could do it! I can’t wait to see you again. We’ll go out to celebrate when I’m back ok?”
All you could do was nod and wipe away your tears as you stared into his loving eyes
You really were lucky to have him in your life
Kita
Normally, Kita is a very quiet kind of supportive
He’ll make sure that you eat well and that you’re staying healthy and definitely not overworking yourself 
He loves you and supports you and is definitely very proud but he doesn’t always show it in the most obvious ways
But the way he makes food for you, tells you to take breaks and everything he does shows you just how much he cares
And even better, when he goes to your competitions he is swelling with pride and joy
He’s telling everyone that you’re his girlfriend and talking about how amazing you are
If anyone casually brings you up in conversation he gushes about how incredible you are and that he’s so proud
You’re actually a little glad he doesn’t do that all the time because it would definitely make you a bit flustered to be complimented so much 
He loves going to your games but when he can’t make it to one he always watches you without fail
He felt terrible that he couldn’t make it to your big competition but made do with watching you on the TV at Osamu’s restaurant 
He even invited his grandmother, who adored you, to come and watch 
Most people were focused on eating and mindlessly watching you swim every now and again but Kita’s eyes were glued on you
When you won gold he turned around to everyone, pointing at you on the screen
“Did you see that? Did you see my girlfriend? Isn’t she incredible?”
He calls you immediately afterwards and tells you that you were phenomenal and he knew you would win
“I even invited my grandmother, she thought you looked great too. I’ll pick you up soon and bring you onigiri okay? You must be starving”
Even now he was still worried about your wellbeing and that is exactly why you loved him
He made you feel like the most important person in the world
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bastillia · 4 years
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First Lesson (NSFW)
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Summary: Commander Kylo Ren needs a competent officer to accompany him on an important mission, and he has requested you specifically. When he discovers that you don't know how to pilot a TIE fighter, he takes it upon himself to fix that. Turns out cockpits are good for other things, too. 
Rating: Explicit
Words: 7.4k
Content Warnings: possible dubcon, choking, spanking, inappropriate use of the Force, rough sex, minimal aftercare, cockwarming… yeah. 
A/N: Wow so this is officially my first published work after lurking in the fandom for a good 4 years??? Holy shit. I'm super nervous, but hey, I've got to start somewhere! I've had this silly idea gnawing around in my little rat brain for fucking ever, so it feels good to finally pound it out (heh). I have... literally never written smut before, sooo I welcome any feedback. Thank you for reading this!
"Take a fighter. Follow me to the surface."
The commander strode powerfully over the gangway, dismissing you with a flick of his gloved hand as he approached the yawning cockpit of his TIE silencer. Engineers scrambled aside like rats to sunlight as he moved, conveniently parting a clear path for you to follow the rippling tower of black robes across the platform. You stumbled and jogged slightly to keep up, your gaze shifting nervously along the sinister row of TIE fighters. They sat anchored to the dock, still as a cavalry line at dawn, each black durasteel destrier awaiting its chance to charge into battle. But there was no impending fight here. Why weren't you taking the command ship?
"Commander. Sir, w-wai-" You collided with an unyielding wall of black, having not been looking where you were going. Ren had stopped and was now turned to look at you, posture stiff, eyes burning with impatience. You straightened sharply and jumped back, shying away from your next words as your cheeks burned under the dark beam of his stare.
"I... I don't know how to fly one. S-sir." You managed to say, and your heart plummeted into your stomach with the admission. It seemed childish. Silly. But-- what would he think of you now? You had always admired the commander more than you'd ever admit to your peers, and if you were honest, you found him wildly, dangerously attractive. There was something about the way he barely held back. The fire that shone behind his dark eyes like they were the only living part of a face cast in carbonite, that made you dare to wonder what he would look like if he let go. The power that radiated from him was always so visceral, yet restrained. Except, of course, when he had his outbursts. You only ever saw the aftermath: a shredded, glowing control panel, a dazed and heaving officer slumped against the floor after being Force-choked within an inch of death over a particularly inconvenient mistake. You'd be lying if you said such unbridled evidence of his power didn't stoke a flame of intrigue. And perhaps something else.
You had only recently been promoted to lieutenant general, but you had a feeling Kylo Ren had watched you closely for some time. You saw it in the shift of his eyes whenever you passed him by, the particular burn of his stare when you delivered reports on behalf of your superior general. You'd never known a commander to hold such a piqued interest in the drabble of stormtrooper reconditioning scores. Or why he had to fix his gaze so intently on you that you could swear he was trying to turn your blood molten. 
You knew that you were more than competent in your position, yet you couldn't quell a desire to impress the commander. Whether it was with your sharp aptitude for command, tactical maneuvers, or securing risky strategic alliances, you always tried to establish presence. To command the room, intimidate both your peers and subordinates with your sharp wits, and earn those rare, blood-branding stares of approval from Kylo Ren when your steel confidence washed a hush over the room. What you'd never admit was how that steel later melted down into gushing whimpers under the forge of your sheets, imagining the kinds of things that your commander might do to you. 
You'd had to forcibly smother your elation when you received the order for your aid specifically on this mission, not even knowing until a few minutes ago that it was you, and only you, that Kylo Ren had requested to come along. It sank like a cold blade into your gut now to know that your ineptitude would make him think less of you. The knife twisted with the realization that you would be left behind on the only opportunity you might ever get to spend some time alone with the commander.
He looked at you for a moment, expression unreadable. How had your command training not included basic piloting by default? A brief flash of anger lit his eyes and set his jaw tight as he thought about whoever's incompetence he would have to deal with later when he reviewed the training program. But for now, there was no time. 
Your eyes were fixed to the metal grate of the floor, stomach knotting, as you steeled a calm mask over the disappointment that tightened your throat. You began to speak, your voice coming out smaller than you intended. "I’m sorry, Commander. I will inform mission control that you are in need of--" Before you could finish, Kylo Ren clamped his arm around your waist, pulling you firmly to his body as he leveraged his hips in one fluid motion to drag you with him into the small cockpit of the TIE silencer.
Your brain reeled, a small yelp escaping your lips as your ass landed firmly into his lap, one of his arms anchoring you there while his other hand reached to flick a control above him. Before you could stammer out the question of what the fuck he was doing, the cockpit was already hissing closed around you both. 
"First lesson." 
Your pulse was a flurry. He began to flip the controls absently, looking easily over your head as you awkwardly adjusted yourself on his thighs. The space was so small, there was absolutely no position you could assume that didn't involve your ass planted into his hips, your back against his broad torso, and your calves draped around either side of his ridiculously long legs. Your head spun. The thrusters hummed to life. Fuck. Everything was moving too fast. His gloved hand began to point individually at each control he had just engaged.
"Auxiliary." 
His voice was dead even as he pointed to the first switch on your left, the movement of his arm making his chest ripple under your shoulder blade. Your brain was a mess of thrill and panic. Was this really happening right now? Heat flowed in a river down your spine and pooled in the roiling cauldron of your belly. Whether it wanted to wash you away, or pull you in like a rip current to his body, you couldn’t decide. His hand moved to a lower control panel where the second switch sat, affording you little time to take in what he was saying. 
"Compressor." 
You tried hard to focus on his words, blinking the spinning confusion out of your eyes as you dumbly studied the path his hand had just taken. You blinked again, hard. Auxiliary. Compressor. Okay. You forced yourself to bid the controls to memory, trying to catch up as he moved along. Four adjacent switches to your right had been next. 
"Ignition," 
His gloved finger drew languidly against the curved switch in a way that suddenly made your skin light up against every solid line of his body pressed flush to yours. Your thighs tensed. Heat climbed your neck as you struggled to hold onto a fragile thread of focus. 
"Thrusters." 
He gestured to the final three buttons. Fucking breathe. Ignition, thrusters. Okay. Simple enough. You sobered yourself sternly and nodded your understanding as you flicked your gaze along the control path that started the engines, internally repeating it several times as your heartbeats became distinguishable again. It was quick. Concise. Fitting, you thought, for a state-of-the-art starfighter prototype that might need to get airborne in a hurry. It was certainly far less brain-scrambling than the orchestrations you'd seen performed upon the control panels of freighters to wrangle them towards liftoff. Why don't they label anything in those damn ships anyways?
"Now," Ren’s hands gripped your hips, instantly shattering your moment of composure. Stars, why did he have this effect on you? And why did a part of you never want it to end? He adjusted your seat, pressing you slightly straighter against him, and you could feel the warm, solid contour of his abdomen flex under your spine. You swallowed hard.
"Steering is intuitive." His palms smothered the backs of your hands as he picked them up, guiding them to grasp the vertical steering grips. Your blood felt uncomfortably hot in your veins. He kept his hands wrapped firmly over top of yours, arms encircling you like a gigantic fucking scaffold, coaxing you to lift the handles very slightly upwards. The craft lurched to life in response, and you were suddenly thankful for his hands holding yours steady as your heart threatened to explode from your ribs. 
It was intuitive, you'd give him that, even if your intuition felt starkly absent from your brain at the moment. The body of the craft lifted smoothly, almost sentiently, with the subtle upward press of the handles. Still, the sudden g-force of liftoff sank you firmly into the commander's lap, amplifying an alarming and far too pleasant stir that agitated the pit of your belly. 
You breathed slowly, trying to stay as still as possible on top of him, your brain still coming to grips with what the fuck was occurring right now. You thought maybe you'd had a dream like this once. Come to think of it, the enigmatic commander had starred in many of your most pleasant dreams -- with or without the mask. Oh, stars. You screwed your eyes tight, inwardly cursing your useless fucking brain. Did you really have to think about that right now? You were definitely blushing. A puff of breath hit the back of your neck. Wait- Did he just chuckle? 
You didn't have time to figure out the answer as his gloved hands flexed over the top of yours and your eyes flew open, finding that the fighter was now hovering a comfortable distance from the hangar floor. He pressed your joined hands forward, and the ship responded gorgeously, accelerating towards the mouth of the docking bay in a smooth departure that made your veins flutter with a thrill of adrenaline. Vacuous darkness swallowed the viewport as the Supremacy was left swiftly in your wake, and you released a lungful of air you didn't know you had been holding. An unexpected calmness suddenly blanketed you as everything fell to the periphery. As your wide eyes adjusted to the void, a spattering of stars slowly blinked into view, decorating the expanse. It was... silent. Still. Breathtaking. 
Ren pulled the grips under your hands back like the reins of an obedient steed, and the craft responded as such. The only indication that the fighter had stilled was the slightly quieter hum of the idling ion thrusters vibrating softly through the air of the cockpit. Your respite was brief. The tranquility of space was magnifying your far-from-tranquil realization that you were now decidedly, irreversibly alone with the commander, and your insides folded in half. 
You hardly dared to breathe, let alone move, your senses suddenly augmented and trained sharply onto Kylo Ren as you sat pressed into his lap. His lap. Maker, have mercy. Your clean-pressed uniform suddenly felt tight and stifling around your neck, and you swallowed thickly. 
"Take over." 
He spoke curtly into the silence, almost making you jump as the baritone rumbled close to your ear. Stars, everything he said was a fucking command. You couldn’t deny how much you’d always enjoyed the rich color of his natural, unmodulated voice, taking secret reverence in the way he could paralyze a room with it. Nor could you ignore the way that every word he spoke was now having the opposite effect, riling up that dismayingly persistent heat between your legs. 
He slid his hands off of yours, leaving you in full command of the sleek starfighter. Nerves needled a patchwork in your gut as you stared disconnectedly at your own bare hands gripping the controls. They might as well have been someone else's entirely. Two palms settled over the tops of your thighs, and the gesture pierced all the way to your brain.
By the void, calm the fuck down. You grounded yourself sternly, tightening your grip around the contoured handles and forcing yourself to feel their texture, the ridges that dug into your skin, the tension that rippled up your arms and into your shoulders as you squeezed them. Breathe. There was a reason you'd been promoted so fast: it was your aptitude toward levelness and situational control under pressure. You could do this. Just... treat it like another test. Taking a steadying breath and fixing your brow in determination, you pressed the grips forward. 
If you thought takeoff was intuitive, now that you somewhat had your frayed wits about you, this was like an extension of your own consciousness. The silencer handled like a dream, and you quickly got the hang of its basic movements, almost forgetting your strange predicament as you took surprising delight in steering the agile craft through the vacuum of space. Kylo Ren hardly moved beneath you. He seemed to be letting you feel the ship out on your own, but his hands occasionally flexed over the curve of your thighs, his fingers splaying into a wide grip that pressed heat into your veins. An alarming reminder, each time, that he was paying attention. Always paying attention.
You cut the silencer back towards the Supremacy after a short while, and were surprised to note that the stifling mega class dreadnought seemed much… smaller, from out here. It felt strange, looking upon the massive vessel that encompassed your entire life, whose halls and chambers you had meticulously memorized, as if it were no more than a distant memory. The perspective settled a quiet feeling inside you that you couldn’t quite formulate.
Also in view, and framing the silhouette of the star destroyer impressively, was your ultimate destination. A large planet, twinkling with tiny rivers of light between clouds, and crowned in a halo of white flame from this system's central star. The planet would be the site of your mission, which, you noted -- the commander still hadn't even briefed you on. You funneled the nervous pang at the thought into determination as you caressed the controls again, considerably braver now about handling the craft.
In a moment of spontaneity, you locked the arches of your feet under Ren's calves and accelerated sharply, whipping the silencer into a tight barrel roll. A breathy, delighted laugh swelled in your chest before you could catch it as you righted the ship to its initial orientation again.
"Good," Ren murmured into your hair, a large hand sliding up to your belly as you reined the ship smoothly to a halt. He pressed you slightly tighter to him with a splayed palm, his strong nose grazing your ear, and the responding thrill between your thighs set your brain back to spinning. You suddenly became aware of a firm knot under your seat that you hadn't noticed before, and your breath stopped. You'd been so distracted maneuvering the ship, you couldn't be sure. You cocked your hips slightly, daring to shift against him, and with the movement it was undeniable: Kylo Ren was hard as a rock. 
You gasped, and the moment you tensed, a gloved hand snaked up to slam into your throat and pull you roughly back against a solid chest, breath hot and immediate in your ear. 
"Don't think I haven't noticed..." His voice was dark and dangerous as his free hand slid to your inner thigh, gripping the sensitive flesh there, your airway closed tight. You trembled, pulse galloping, as a spear of adrenaline ignited each of your most primal instincts at once. 
"...How you can hardly keep those eyes to yourself around me." His lips were warm against the shell of your ear as his nose grazed the baby hairs at your temple, the feeling adding a confusing tingle to the sharp claws of terror that gripped you. Your pulse was deafening, and you struggled to find either breath or coherence under his iron grip. His hand on your throat loosened slightly with a creak of leather, and the sweetness of air crashed into your lungs.
"I could say the same," you breathed without thinking, suddenly wondering if you actually had a deathwish. His hand flexed threateningly on your throat and you flinched, but he simply breathed a dark chuckle into the hollow of your ear. Oh. That made you fucking shiver. 
"Observant." He slowly ground his hips up into you, more or less fucking his prominent erection against your ass. Needles of fear laced confusingly into a wash of desire as a soft noise escaped you, and you bit your lip to catch it in its tracks as he continued. "But I know every thought you've ever had about me, lieutenant." Oh, stars. Fuck. You knew he’d paid attention to you, but not that closely.
"It's pathetic, really… " He continued to grind torturously against you, his broad hand pinning your thigh the same way a predator might hold down a piece of live prey that it wants to toy with for a while before killing. "...The way you try so hard to impress me." His growl bottomed out on the emphasis with a decisive roll of his hips that sent an electric shock careening to your core. You squirmed against him, but his grip on your neck and leg had you on an axis that allowed precious little freedom. His hips continued their disciplined pace as he spread his knees slightly, forcing your own to follow, and his thumb traced electricity into the tender patch of thigh just below your most intimate parts. You clenched at the closeness of it.
"But…” he purred, tone shifting slightly.
“The things that cross your mind at night?" You froze with dread, wishing the ice in your spine would somehow percolate into the space around you, freeze it into stasis so that he wouldn't continue with his next words. But Kylo Ren was a furnace, burning the unlimited fuel of your fear, and he rumbled on. 
"When you touch that wet little cunt, and think about me?" He lifted his palm away briefly - the predator's illusion of mercy - before delivering a hard, stinging smack straight to your inner thigh. Your cunt convulsed. 
"Filthy."
A silent pause filled the cockpit, allowing both the word and the impact to sink into your nerves before he slowly circled his glove across the tingling flesh under his hand. Your bones went gelatinous, and, stars, you whimpered. It was a sound so foreign to even your own ears, that you startled yourself. 
His straining cock pulsed against the curve of your ass, and he swore darkly, sliding his hand on your thigh up to cup your sex through the fabric of your pants. You were already wet and aching, you could feel it, but the slight pressure of his hand over your sensitive heat drove your need to a frenzy. Another whine leaked unbidden from your lips. 
“Tell me, lieutenant, how do you prefer me?” His voice was cruel and dark, drawing out your torment as he began to tease your slit with a pressure so light you thought you might die on the spot. 
“With, or without the mask?” He pressed down, rolling his forefinger over your clit in a firm motion that sent sparks into your brain. Your mouth fell open in an obscene moan that echoed around the cockpit. Kylo Ren stiffened, tightening his grip on your throat and stilling the pressure on your aching bud.
He didn't have to say anything for you to know in your gut that an answer was required. Your stomach quivered. This was his game, and you were going to have to play at it if you wanted any of your deepest, most secret desires to come to fruition now. And stars, you wanted it bad. You found a few breaths, collecting fragments of your voice. 
"Any w-way you'd have me, C-commander." Your voice was hardly intact, but you managed to breathe the words out through your daze of terror and need, finally pushing your own ass back into the motion of his hips. He released a warm huff of breath into your ear, seemingly pleased. Thank the Maker. 
"That's right."
His soft hair dusted your ear as he dipped to latch a hot kiss into your neck, pulling your head slightly aside for better access. His tongue was molten and wet against your skin, and the feeling sank straight to your core. You reeled and whined as he sucked a bruise into your throat, taking his time tasting you, his hand over your pants drawing an embarrassing volume of wetness from your aching cunt already. You dropped your hands beside you and sunk your nails into the fabric over his thighs, need overflowing from your skin and into his body. 
Kylo Ren sucked a breath through his teeth and slipped the hand on your throat upwards, gripping your jaw instead and pushing the leather pad of his forefinger through your lips. You accepted it a little too eagerly, sucking it in delicately and running your tongue across the ridges in the supple material as you relished the expensive taste. He hummed and slid a second thick digit into your mouth as his lips and teeth continued to worry the tender skin of your neck, and you were sure you would bear the dark purple evidence of his possession for at least a week. You didn't care. 
His ministrations had your body pliant and wanting in no time, and your thighs had involuntarily begun to relax, falling wider around each side of his lap even as the sharp edge of a control panel dug into your leg. You felt the rigid hilt of the saber on his hip as well, a sensation that paralyzed you for a moment with a new spike of fear and thrilling desire. He ascended from your neck with a sharp nip. 
"So eager, lieutenant." He clicked his tongue once and landed a sharp spank straight to the mound of your pussy. It made you jump, and clench hard with a small, leather-muffled yelp. He deftly switched hands, removing his fingers from your mouth as his other hand closed around your neck. His moistened digits dipped below the waistband of your pants, and you felt his own breaths quicken underneath your shoulders, exciting you. The smooth, warm leather slid easily down your folds, drawing a gasp from you as he collected and spread your arousal. Now, this, you had definitely dreamed about before. He circled slowly across your clit, slicking it over in a motion that sparked white ecstasy through your nerve endings, and you whined pathetically. 
"What would your superiors think," Kylo Ren's deep, mocking voice dripped through you as he slid one finger down to tease your entrance. Your hips bucked, trying in vain to draw him in. "If they knew what a desperate little whore you are for your commander?" 
Your brain stuttered then. An involuntary smirk pulled at your lips as you conjured the image of your superior general, and how his eyes always seemed to darken when they wandered a little too far down your uniform. You didn't consider the fact that your mind was on full display to Ren before the brat center of your brain produced one clear thought. 
They'd envy my commander.
You bit your tongue hard the second the thought formed, as if you could banish it with the flash of pain, hoping desperately that he hadn't read your mind. But the way that Ren’s whole body went rigid suggested otherwise. Maker damn your smart ass. 
His hand fisted into your hair, wrecking your neat bun, and he wrenched your head to the side, forcing you to look up at him. Your brows knitted together in pain, but you dared not whine about it as you met his stare. His eyes were black saucers, clouded with such a tenebrous fury and lust that it made your walls flutter in time with your stomach.  
"Is that so?" The ice in his voice squeezed your veins. 
Gone was all that confidence that you prided yourself on in your profession, all the poise and tact and sharpness of wit. It slipped as easily as water through your fingers now as you drowned in the inky depths of his stare, fear anchoring your words to your diaphragm with no means of escape. 
Ren studied you, embers flaring in the pits of those live irises, framed by the beautiful stone hearth of his face. He moved your head back and forth a bit by his grip in your hair. You winced, but your muscles might as well have been liquid, unable to resist him in the slightest. He was testing your pliancy, considering. 
"Open your mouth." 
There was no warmth, no tease behind the words, and as if they flowed straight into your neurons directly, you obeyed. Your jaw fell open, your pink tongue pushing slightly against the pillow of your lower lip as it rested over your bottom teeth. He spat into your mouth, holding your stare in the tight space as… Oh. He sank two thick fingers straight into your soaking core, stretching you full, holding them rooted inside you. You might as well have been vibrating. 
"Swallow." 
The command was deadly. You snapped your jaw shut and complied, heart thrumming with fear and a hot, blooming need originating from the delicious ache that now filled your walls but refused to move. You whined, trying weakly to shift your hips for any amount of friction on his hand, but his hold on you tightened, immobilizing you. 
"Impudence will get you nothing." He uttered warningly, never breaking your stare as his fingers began to pump slowly, agonizingly inside of you. You could feel yourself dripping around him now as the ridged leather of his gloves did something delicious to your walls. "Don't you want to come, little whore?" 
You were putty in his lap. "Yes, Commander, sir." You managed to groan out quietly, embracing the pain that screamed through your scalp. His plump, gorgeous lips were parted slightly, a signal of desire to underlie the tempest of his stare. You relaxed more into his grip, hoping your show of submission would drive him just a little more wild, just a little closer to... Yes.
He yanked you closer and stroked his hot tongue into your mouth in a fucking vulgar kiss that spun your brain like a top. You suppressed a sigh as the taste of him filled you, his plush lips divine and remarkably soft against your mouth as you melted into the heat of his possessive kiss. He jerked you away by your hair long before you'd had your fill of his taste, a thin string of spit connecting you as you squeaked a pathetic sound. Your disappointment was fleeting, though, because his fingers were now curling faster against a heavenly spot inside of you that was beginning to coil you tight. 
"Then be good." 
You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, bit down, and nodded as well as you could with his fingers rooted into your follicles. He watched the ecstasy blossom across your face as his thumb began to pass in quick circles over your sensitive clit. A cry fell from your lips as your pleasure began to overtake you, his fingers building you towards a crescendo that threatened to split you clear in half with a galaxy between. You didn't even have to try to keep your mind blank now as he consumed your every nerve ending in rippling pleasure, and soon you were barreling towards the event horizon of climax with every stroke of his digits and every slick pass of leather over your delicate pearl of nerves. Sparks flowed like hot plasma to your extremities as your walls began to flutter tight. You whined the warning of it as your brows drew together in restraint, pleading silently for the commander to send you halfway to hyperspace with the orgasm that teetered in your core. 
"That's right, cum for me, little whore." His voice was harsh and cruel and delicious and everything your reeling brain needed to send you barreling over the precipice. Your orgasm split you, blanching your vision as your walls slammed down around his fingers and you sobbed out the waves of your release. He didn't slow, drawing out your climax to an impossible length as each clench sent you spinning and wailing again. Ren groaned and cursed under his breath as he watched you come apart, leaning on the familiar edge of desperate self control as his stiff cock twitched violently under the confines of his trousers.
He slowed and withdrew his hand from your pants, allowing you to come down with shallow breaths. He brought the hand up to taste you slowly from the glistening leather of his fingers, eyes never leaving yours, and the sight made your insides combust. He hummed a low, appreciative sound before shoving the cum-slicked digits roughly into your mouth. The sweet tang of your juices flooded your senses as he sat you back up against him, such that you faced the viewport again. Impossible as it realistically was, it suddenly felt as if the entire Supremacy may as well have just watched you cum like a trained whore around Kylo Ren's fingers. The thought tickled your belly as you laved your tongue over his glove, still warm from your cunt, your body thrumming with the high of post-orgasmic ecstasy as you diligently cleaned the ridges. Your insatiable pussy clenched hard when you felt his length grind against your ass, reminding you of its presence, and you suddenly ached to be filled again. You whimpered into his hand as you rolled your hips.
"You want my cock?" His voice was ragged in your ear, hardly restrained as he fucked his bulge against you. You nodded with an obscene whine, clutching the sides of his thighs and using them as leverage to grind yourself into his throbbing length. He cursed. 
"Filthy girl."
Ren released you, withdrawing his fingers from your mouth and hair, and you collapsed back against his chest, panting. He shoved at the waistband of your pants, and with a thrill, you lifted your hips as far as you could to allow him to yank them down around your thighs, panties and all. 
He propped you forward slightly, bringing a hand behind you to wrestle with the clasp of his own trousers. He unleashed his cock and sat you back over it, so that it rested thickly between the flesh of your thighs, flush with the swollen line of your wet slit. You looked down and gulped. Stars, he was big. Not that you expected any different -- you'd be the first to admit that this man carried himself like he was packing. Still, you couldn't suppress a twinge of nerves as you looked down at the fat head of him, swollen beautifully at the end of a thick shaft and leaking a bead of pre cum between your thighs. He rocked his hips up, and the thick, velvety length of his cock parted your lips, coating the top of his shaft in your wetness as it slid against your tender folds.
You whined, your walls screaming to be filled, to be stretched, and you strained your pelvis down towards his dick, but the angle was all wrong for you to have any control. His glove snaked into your hair and fisted it roughly, yanking you immobile again as you gasped. 
"Beg." 
Your pussy throbbed, dignity a distant echo in your brain as you keened and clenched around nothing. You'd never been known to beg for anything in your life, but with the way that every nerve ending in your body felt like it was curling towards him, trying to take root, to feel him in every way possible, you were sure you'd do anything to earn his cock now.
"P-please-" it came out in a whisper, your voice absent from your chest, and he jostled you by your scalp sharply. Pain shot through your nerves, somehow only kindling the flames of need that were licking up your spine and you yelped, the roughness punching your voice back into you.
"I can't fucking hear you." He growled through his teeth, breath crackling in his throat as he fought his own restraint. The sound shot a thrill through you. Oh, you were gone. 
"Ple-ase, s-sir, please f-fuck me," you moaned louder, and your voice sounded foreign through the ring in your ears. Your thighs strained against the hobble of your waistband as your body tried to spread and arch back for him like a bitch in heat. Thoroughly carried away, heady pleas continued to pour from your mouth. "I n-eed your cock in me, Com-commander, please." He huffed a pleased sound, pulling you back until his lips grazed your ear. 
"Good girl."
He released your hair and gripped your hips hard, lifting you up just enough for the head of his cock to slide down towards your entrance. You found yourself pressing your palms eagerly into the seat, pushing yourself up to give your commander better access. You tipped your hips until you felt the swollen head of him perfectly align with your soaked entrance, and-- Oh, fuck.
Even thoroughly lubricated with your own cum, it was a tight fit as he began to sink you down. You whimpered as the angle forced you to take the entirety of him, struggling to relax your tight walls through your descent. You were sure you'd never taken a man nearly this big, sure that your body might break open around him, and yet you were determined to withstand his challenge. He hissed slowly through his teeth as he buried into you inch by steady inch, until you finally sat flush with his lap again, keening from the pleasant sting of complete fullness. 
Ren choked on a stifled groan as you reached the hilt of him, his grip bruising your waist as he held you there for a moment. He shifted you both forward, allowing him to brace you up with his arms, and pumped his hips once slowly to test the position. The feeling of his thick cock sliding tight against your walls until it pressed your cervix was as obscene as it was delicious, and as he buried himself again, you couldn't hold back the wanton moan that tore itself from your diaphragm. 
"Fuck," You heard Ren mutter raggedly behind you as he adjusted his grip. He began to rut his hips up into you at a punishing tempo, and your thoughts evaporated as his cock slammed over and over into the epicenter of your core. You cried out, voice hitching from his pace and ferocity, as you wildly clutched at the side of a control panel for stability. Somehow the pain of taking him over and over began to morph into blinding oblivion, and the viewport swam before your eyes as you lost yourself in the furious rhythm of his cock. 
Ren grabbed your neck and arched you back against his chest, slowing his pace enough to allow shards of air to fight back into your starved lungs. The slower thrusts, the slick feeling of every ridge and vein of him, sent a spike of voltage through your limbs that jump started your senses again. 
"Was I wrong to assume you could handle me, lieutenant?" He purred breathily as he slowed to nearly a stop, though clearly not intending to cease his torment altogether. You whined your dissent and tried to roll your hips down into him, hoping to fuck yourself on his cock, to feebly prove that you could take him. "No?" His voice dripped warm with mockery. "We'll see." 
His grip anchored you fast. You gasped, almost panicking for a moment as a foreign pressure began to flit and squeeze around your clit. It wasn't his hand. One was controlling your neck, the other a vice on your hip. You didn't have much time to register the fact that he was using the Force until his hips were moving again, his cock filling you whole at a steady pace as that strange and wonderful pressure swirled faster at your bud. 
Then suddenly his hand was closing like a leather serpent around your neck, slowly, expertly constricting your pulse. A primal burst of adrenaline blinded you for a moment. He could kill you. It rang between your ears, imploring you to resist, but your body was so pliant, so wholly under the spell of submission, that the thrill melted into something warmer. Something perhaps like trust, but with a much sharper edge as it cut a path through your veins. He squeezed your arteries steadily until your hearing began to fog and inky motes crossed your vision. Pressure swelled in your head, the cockpit beginning to drift away around you until all that grounded you to reality was the steady pumping of the cock inside your cunt and the Force at your clit shooting effervescent waves of pleasure into your darkening brain. 
Just as the cusp of total unconsciousness began to seduce you, the pressure vanished. Ren slammed his length into you, and you gulped a massive breath of air as the Force jetted against your clit. Your orgasm crested hard, and shot you over the edge faster than you'd have ever thought possible as he held you steady and pounded into your core. You screamed as your release tore through your body in a perfect harmonic overtone to the oxygen flooding back into your brain, and the combined relief washed such a powerful bliss through your nerves that in that moment, you felt as if the very fabric of space could part for you.
"That's it, fuck, good fucking girl." Ren’s snarls were filthy and delicious in your ear as he continued to fuck you hard, the pace of his cock refusing to let your body come down from the orgasm. You keened and moaned in an incoherent stupor as he slammed up against a spot inside you that was somehow, impossibly, pushing you towards the edge again already. Another orgasm ripped through you, this one singeing your nerve endings as you felt his thrusts become unsteady. Ren bellowed through gritted teeth as he came, cock pulsing inside you while your quaking walls milked him through his release. He pumped you slowly through your aftershocks, tensing with each clench of your cunt around his oversensitive dick, until your bodies stilled in a tranquil beat of silence and shared breathing.
You didn't know at what point he had wrapped both of his arms around you, but you snapped to the realization that Kylo Ren was now holding you tight, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he came down through shuddering breaths. You blinked, slowly bringing the geometric planes of the viewport back into blurred focus, and then beyond it, the distant Supremacy. 
It hung suspended like a leviathan in the void, a staunch and silent voyeur to the star-shattering sequence of undoing and accretion that you had just experienced here at the hands and cock of your inscrutable commander. You couldn't be totally sure this hadn't all been another dream, but the feeling of him now was so real, so warm, so human in the depth of his breathing and the slight dampness of his skin against yours, that you were sure no version of Kylo Ren you'd ever conjured in your dreams could feel like this. 
You didn't move, didn't dare, but simply felt him encase you, afraid to break whatever spell was holding you in this moment. In a place where maybe, maybe, you could pretend that you weren't just a rank. Or a strategist, or a minuscule pawn in the grander scheme of First Order rule. Here you were a body, yes, but a body that intertwined with something beyond material. Something that laced gently with the threads of humanity behind the frozen carbonite mask of Kylo Ren, which now seemed to thaw for the smallest moment as he held you wrapped in an embrace that could almost be mistaken for tenderness. 
Almost. 
Your high descended on clipped wings as he finally stirred, settling colder in your stomach as he loosened his arms and you waited for whatever would happen now. He was still inside of you, and half-hard at that, but even so, you felt filled to the brim with his cum and stretched tight around him. Your body bemoaned the idea of vacancy, but if time was up, then it was up. You weren't about to push it. You started to move, shifting to lift off of him.
"No. Stay." He murmured against your neck, and you almost questioned whether your brain had shorted out and you'd misheard him. He coaxed you back against his chest with a press of his palm, and you hesitantly allowed the gentleness of it to malleate your rigid spine. Your brain misfired again as you felt the soft brush of his thumb running slowly up and down the contour of your ribs. Your pulse skipped into your throat. You didn't dare allow your body to think that this was anything akin to intimacy. You had been starved of it for so long that if you let it believe so, you might fully lose sight of the fine line you were now walking. And if you fell, it would be straight onto a saber's edge. The vibration of your body fighting against its own tension ricocheted to the walls of your pussy, and as you squeezed him slightly, you felt his cock already beginning to harden again inside you. Your breath hitched. 
Kylo Ren made no acknowledgment of the exchange as he peeled his face from your neck, straightening slightly. He reached his long arms around you to grip the controls of the silencer, but didn't move the craft. He sat still. Contemplative, perhaps. 
You were leaned back against his shoulder, forehead resting just by his jaw, and you dared to let your face tuck gently towards him. You waited for a reaction -- to be pushed away, for some signal that you'd overstepped. But he was still. You cautiously nestled the bridge of your nose against his neck, feeling the steady thrum of pulse there, the soft currents of breath that drifted from his nose down to trickle across your skin. You tried to memorize the warm, masculine scent of him that drifted up from his collar, magnified by body heat, stirred by the gentle tide of his breathing. Oh, how long it had been since you'd had this… 
The oxytocin-riddled valleys of your mind echoed with a sudden and deadly urge to tilt up and press a soft kiss under his jaw, but a harness of fear held you still as you remembered your place, and the fragility of whatever this was. Instead, you squeezed his cock with your warmth again, a flame of lust already flickering against your belly and providing a welcome distraction from the confusion that was drawing and quartering your brain. 
Ren's chest swelled with a soft "mmph" as he seemed to come out of his own trance of thought. You wondered if he'd even been listening to yours at all. He rocked his hips once, the slide of his stiffening cock making your walls leak, and you sighed. Yes. This was fine. This was simple. He pressed his hands forward, beginning to guide the craft towards the twinkling planet in no particular hurry. You gripped his thighs and rolled your hips, squeezing and riding him slowly so as not to break his concentration as he guided you both through the silent expanse of space. 
Yes, it was best just to enjoy the simplicity of this. Of two bodies exorcising your respective tensions through the physical release you could pull from one another. And soon it would be over, and the chaos would resume around you, and you'd carry on like your spirits hadn't just fused like two atoms -- for a microsecond -- within a supernova of passion in the middle of space. And that was fine. That was for the best. 
So you fixed yourself on that tangible goal of physical pleasure, on the rhythm of your hips, on keeping your commander nice and hard and ready for whatever he decided was next. 
Because if you were good enough, then maybe. 
Just maybe. 
You'd earn yourself a second lesson. 
***
Update: Part 2 here.
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Text
The Best Potioneer (pt. 1) — Harry Potter x reader
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***not my gif***
Request: “Hii, I love your work! I was wondering if I could request a Harry x Slytherin!reader, maybe set during the last year at Hogwarts and enemies to lovers? Thank you 💚”
Summary: You despise Harry. Your Slytherin friends seem to have strong opinions of him already, but during your sixth year, you also seem to have found a reason to absolutely hate the boy. But when you’re forced to work on an assignment together and stay up all night, is it possible for those feelings to change?
Word Count: 2.6K
A/N: Thank you so much for the request @obsessedwithrandomthings ! Ahhh, I really hope I did it justice!! I’m sorry I had to split it up into two parts because it turned out *way* longer than I expected it to! It was so hard to come up with a valid reason to hate Harry, he’s such a sweetheart, but I tried my best lmao. Anyways, I had such a fun time writing this and I really hope you enjoy!! And stay tuned for part 2!
__________________
You crossed your legs as you nodded politely in agreement with something that Professor Slughorn had said. In all honesty, you had had no idea what he was rambling on about, no one did, really, but still your face held a bright smile as you nodded once again. Your head of house, Professor Slughorn had invited you, among with various others, to his newly formed club.
Your eyes briefly surveyed the others that were sat at the table with you, all listening -- or at least, pretending to listen -- to the Professor about some very rare ingredient that he skillfully was able to find in some remote region. To your right sat Blaise Zabini, a fellow Slytherin, and to your left, a Hufflepuff that you had never talked to before.
All of them were here for one reason, of course; they seemed to show that they were extraordinarily skilled at something. Or, they were related to someone who was. You hoped it was the former in your case.
You liked to believe that you were here not because of your extremely famous Potioneer father but because of the talent you, yourself, possessed when it came to Potions.
Potions had always been your favourite. You liked other things, of course, but none of them satisfied you like Potions did. The feeling of accomplishment as you gaze down at a finished recipe in your cauldron bubbling, to you, was exhilarating, and you couldn’t seem to get enough of it.
Evidently, this was also the case for your father, who after graduating Hogwarts, had gone on to become a Potioneer, brilliant in his field, and make a name for himself. You hoped that you would be able to do the same.
“But enough of me blabbering on,” Slughorn chuckled heartily, “I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities to hear me talk about myself.”
You met his gaze and smiled politely, making sure that he knows you’re paying attention.
See, Snape had always been fond of you. Snape, as the Potions Professor, gave you brilliant marks (which you deserved, in all fairness) and didn’t even try to hide the fact that you were his favourite. While others got a cold and disapproving glare from him when they had made a mistake, you received helpful insight on where you went wrong. Snape gave others a monotone sentence of approval at their success, while he gave you… Well, he gave you the same thing, really, but you could tell it was more heartfelt. As heartfelt as it gets, coming from Snape and all.
You were determined to impress Slughorn as well. You had decided that sheer talent can only go so far; teachers were human, too, after all. It was with no doubt that you concluded that every teacher ought to have a favourite, someone they will always favour over the next. And, similarly, every teacher has one student they would never think twice about, someone they didn’t even notice. While you were certainly grateful that you weren’t the latter, you weren’t exactly pleased at your position in the middle. It had always been all or nothing for you. You wanted to be the favourite. The best there can be.
But, that was proving to be a little difficult and unexpectedly, it was because of a certain raven-haired, bespectacled, and utterly clueless -- in your humble opinion -- Gryffindor boy.
You had never paid much attention to Harry. He had always been insignificant in your life, having only shared a couple classes with him over the years. And, even in those classes, you had only exchanged a few occasional words. The bottom line was, you didn’t hate Harry and you didn’t like him. He was just… Harry. A Gryffindor.
It was almost as if the universe saw this and decided that this wasn’t enough. Just like you disliked your mediocre position in Slughorn’s class, the universe disliked Harry’s mediocre presence in your life. After all, you were always one to go big or to go home.
It was as if Harry had been pushed onto the stage that was your life, forced to play a role, as soon as your sixth-year Potions classes had begun. And, Harry might be a hero to some, but in your play, he was easily the opposite.
All because Harry had started doing exceptionally well in Potions. You didn’t know what it was. His potions always turned out perfect, capturing Slughorn’s praise. Praise that you wish you were receiving. Naturally, before you knew it, it turned into a competition, both determined to out-shine the other. You couldn’t let him beat you.
A recent occurrence annoyed you, in particular, just a few weeks ago, when Harry was able to brew a draught of Living Death perfectly, and in record time. You were close, of course, but Harry had managed to do it before you, resulting in him getting awarded with a vial of Felix Felicis and getting praised relentlessly by Slughorn. Harry, being aware of just how much you resented him doing better than you in Potions, sent you a small smile as he stood at the front of the class, holding up the vial of the luck potion. It was clear at this moment that you had to be better than Harry. There was no other option. Excelling at Potions was in your blood.
However, the sole reason behind your undying hatred for the boy was not just the fact that he had magically turned into a brilliant Potioneer. No, it was also because of your friends, who were mainly Slytherins, had told you all about their interactions with him over the years when you brought up how he seemed to have claimed your spot at the top of the class. Since you only got a one-sided testimony from your friends, you were always led to believe that Harry was in the wrong.
If Harry were being honest, he wasn’t exactly sure why you hated him and wanted to beat him so badly in Potions. Regardless of the reason, Harry certainly wasn’t one to back out from some (un?)healthy competition. A part of him only seemed to want to compete with you on principle; a typical Slytherin vs. Gryffindor feud. He certainly didn’t take this little competition as seriously as you did.
But this ‘competition’ for you meant a lot more.
“Ah, Ms. [Y/L/N],” Slughorn directly acknowledged you for the first time that evening, “how lovely it is to have you here!”
“It’s a pleasure to be here, sir,” you replied kindly.
“Tell me, how is your father doing?” Slughorn questioned with genuine curiosity, “I haven’t heard from him in ages! Correct me if I’m wrong, Ms. [Y/L/N], last I heard, he was running some sort of experiment trial with sleeping potions?”
Your heart sank. You couldn’t help but think you were only here because of your father. You despised the thought. You caught your smile from faltering and took a breath in.
“He’s doing well, Professor,” you nodded, ���And yes, he is running an experiment with sleeping potions. Unfortunately, he hasn’t shared much about it with me just yet.”
“Oh, yes, yes,” Slughorn said to you, “He was always quite the expert at sleeping potions…”
He paused at this before smiling and turning his gaze from you to Harry, sat directly across from you, “But of course, we have another emerging sleep potion expert in the room!”
At this, you grudgingly turned your head to Harry as well.
Great. Just the thing you needed this evening; to be reminded of your failure to brew a sleeping potion, one that your father would easily be able to brew in his sleep.
You continued to try to smile politely as Slughorn once again, started to praise Harry for his perfect potion. Harry smiled and accepted the compliments quietly, but he shot you a few glances in between, which only made you angrier.
“Quite remarkable, indeed,” Slughorn praised, “Wouldn’t you agree, Ms. [Y/L/N]?”
“Yes,” you agreed, still smiling, although you knew that everyone could tell it wasn’t genuine, “It is quite interesting how much Harry has been able to improve this year.”
“Indeed, indeed,” came Slughorn’s response who nodded and smiled at Harry.
“In my opinion, it just seems too good to be true,” you continued, your smile turning more into a grimace, as you shifted a little in your seat, “how exactly did you manage to brew a potion like the draught of Living Death so brilliantly, even though you could barely manage to brew a draught of Peace just last year, Harry?” You tried to keep your tone curious and casual, but you failed as a few murmurs broke out amongst the table, clearly picking up on the tension in the air.
“Well,” Harry began, holding your gaze keenly and smiling slightly, “I just followed the recipe.”
“Of course,” you said as you nodded slightly, patronizing him, “but was crushing the sopophorous bean in the recipe?”
“I--” Harry tried to reply as he, too, shifted in his seat. His smile had vanished.
“And,” you continued as you rested your elbows on the table, “Is ‘following the recipe’ a newly acquired skill?”
“No,” Harry kept his calm as you struggled to do the same.
“Because, if I recall, you couldn’t simply ‘follow the recipe’ last year,” you accused and narrowed your eyes. You had stopped pretending to be polite. More whispers and murmurs broke out while Slughorn watched this scene unfold in distress, “Or the year before that, or--”
“Are you trying to imply that I cheated, [Y/L/N]?”
“How lovely of you to finally catch on, Potter.”
Slughorn seemed to have decided that he had seen enough. “Alright! That’s enough, Mr. Potter and Ms. [Y/L/N]! Everyone, help yourself to this delicious chocolate cake! This ought to calm some of you down a notch...“
You and Harry kept your gazes on each other, both unwilling to break first as several people around you finally started to talk again, instead of listening intently to the heated interaction between you two.
Finally, Harry was first to break, looking away from you and picking up his cutlery.
__________________________
If it wasn’t already clear to you that this year just was not your year, it became clear when Slughorn declared that your class would be working with partners on the next assignment.
It became crystal clear, however, when you got partnered up with none other than Harry Potter.
You groaned as you walked back to your assigned seat beside Harry after arguing -- respectfully, of course, -- with Slughorn for fifteen minutes straight on just how well you could do on this assignment by yourself. It would be an understatement to say that you were severely displeased when Slughorn repeatedly suggested this was a two-person job.
You took a seat beside him with a frown set on your face, as Harry glanced at you from the corner of his eye. He was dreading this as well, of course, but certainly not as much as you seem to be dreading this. Was it because you hated that he was a Gryffindor? Perhaps you thought he was lesser-than because he was a half-blood? Or because he hung out with the Weasleys and Granger, both considered to be near the bottom of the wizarding social status hierarchy? He decided that it most likely was a combination of all of these, judging from the green and silver on your robes.
The truth was though, you couldn’t care less about what house he was in. Or, who his friends were. And, you certainly didn’t give a damn about his status. You resented him because he was doing better in Potions than you were, but you hated him because that was just the norm. You were expected to hate him. Only now, you actually had a reason to.
But now, because he was paired up with you, his failure was your failure. His success was your success. You couldn’t one-up him this time… you would have to actually cooperate with him. Interact with him. You scrunched up your face at the thought.
“Memory potions!” Slughorn clapped his hands as he started to tell the class about their upcoming assignment, “Who can recall what those are?” He chuckled slightly at his own joke.
Hermione Granger’s hand shot up.
“They’re exactly that, sir,” she informed, “They can boost one’s memory for up to six hours, depending on the dosage.”
“Yes!” Slughorn seemed pleased at the answer, “Yes, Ms. Granger! Memory potions are very powerful, indeed… I had a particularly nasty experience with those once…” He trailed off into telling his very underwhelming anecdote that no one really cared much for.
“Oh no,” you whispered, not particularly to anyone, as you realized it’s going to take Slughorn a while to actually get to the point.
“We’ll be here a while,” Harry whispered back, which surprised you. It was a very rare occurrence for you two to whisper to each other, and even more unusual for you two to be agreeing.
“But never mind that!” Slughorn said finally, “You lot will be brewing memory potions!”
Almost instantly, you grabbed a hold of your Advanced Potions book to examine the recipe. A few others did the same and Slughorn visibly noticed.
“Ah,” he said, “You won’t find the recipe in there. You will have to find the recipe yourselves.” He smiled. “After finding the precise list of ingredients and measurements, I would like you, with your partners, to brew the potion.”
You furrowed your eyebrows in concentration. Find the recipe?
“This assignment is, of course,” Slughorn went on, “a competition. The first pair of students to successfully brew a memory potion with effects lasting for precisely 7 hours will receive an O on the next essay!” He smiled as his eyes moved around the room. “You have until next week, but this potion can be done in a day...” His smile grew, waiting for a reaction from the group.
The students in the room all had no idea how to proceed. Find the recipe? 7 hours? This assignment seemed like way too much work, all for an O on the next essay?
“Alright! Get to work, you lot,” Slughorn urged as he laughed and walked back to his desk, failing to elaborate.
You looked around the room to find that everyone had started to talk to their partners, trying to figure out how they would be going about this peculiar task.
“We need to stay up all night,” you said quickly, turning your head to face Harry.
“What? Why?” he questioned with confusion in his eyes, “We have a week!”
“Zabini and Greengrass will most definitely stay up all night,” you told him urgently, “I know it. We need to beat them.”
“But--” Harry tried to reason with you. Spending all night working on potion with you? He wasn’t exactly looking forward to it.
“Look, do you know where we might be able to do this?” you ignored what he said previously, turning to get a fresh piece of parchment, “I was thinking of an abandoned classroom, but Filch will easily catch us.”
Harry did know a place. But did he really want to work on a potion all night? With you, no less?
“Fine,” you sighed as you once again turned to face him, “You need to sneak me into your common room then.”
“What? No!” he exclaimed, alarmed. He was not about to do that. For all he knew, this was all just some clever ploy to get back at the Gryffindors for beating the Slytherins in the Quidditch match last week.
“Where else would we go?” you question irritably.
“What about your common room?”
“No. I already told you Zabini and Greengrass will probably use it to brew their potion tonight.”
“But, I can’t sneak you in.”
“You have to!”
Harry was conflicted. He couldn’t sneak you into his common room, and he didn’t even want to think about what would happen if he were caught in your common room.
“Fine, okay,” Harry said as he fixed the glasses on his face, thinking, “I might know a place.”
“Okay?” you said, getting incredibly frustrated at his cryptic response, “Please enlighten me, oh Chosen One.”
“Just meet me on the seventh floor tonight.” He ignored your clever response and gave you a straightforward one. Like he always did.
“But there--” you tried to protest. The seventh floor had no classrooms that you could use.
“Just--” Harry also seemed to be getting frustrated as he insisted, “Just do it. Alright?”
“Fine,” you crossed your arms and leaned back into your seat.
You expected the night to go horribly. You expected a dreadful night, filled with insults. You expected your hatred for Harry to only have increased in the morning. What you didn’t expect was what actually happened.
(Part 2 has been posted!)
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haro-whumps · 3 years
Note
Hey how do you think that would be a reverse version of GW? Like, instead of Galo getting the whumpees, the seven of them somehow, through a legal technicality, get a Galo that was Bethany's slave?How donyou think they'd all be, in this situation?
I would like to clarify that Galo and Bethany are NOT related in this version.
--
"... an old paramour," Greyson stated, hedging an explanation. Bethany had been, well, significantly too old for him, at the time. But he'd liked that.
Even so, he wasn't exactly chomping at the bit to disclose his past questionable relationships with his housemates.
"And what did she leave you, exactly?" Evan asked, wearing his joggers and leaning against the doorframe, Lilah dressed similarly and walking past him with a deep pull from her water bottle.
"Your guess is as good as mine," Greyson said, passing him the letter. Lilah propped her arm up on his shoulder, only to be dislodged as he propped his arm up on her head. The two leaned in and read the letter together, their faces screwing up at almost the exact same moment.
"Well that's cryptic," Lilah said, taking the page from Evan's hand and flipping it over, checking the blank back. She handed it back to Greyson, who nodded his assent.
"So my bet's on bird," Evan said, ganking Lilah's water bottle and finishing it off.
"Evan!" Nyla called from the other side of the house, "Have you sent me your portion of the mortgage yet?"
"I thought the point of buying a house was to get away from landlords," Evan muttered to Lilah, who snorted.
"Evan!"
"Doing that now!"
Sasha entered and gently shoed the athletes out. "I n-need to get st-started on dinner."
She placed her hand on Greyson's shoulder. "It'll be fine. Maybe it's j-just a dog?"
Greyson shrugged, sighing. He wondered why he'd even been IN the woman's will at all.
"N-now move. I'm cooking."
Greyson smiled playfully back, bumping his hip to Sasha's, and left. He found Nyla rifling through the rest of the mail.
"Are you sure that's all they sent you?"
"Unfortunately."
Nyla huffed, letting the letters smack against her skirt. "Why couldn't they have had a lawyer write to us or something? Anything to save a dime, and I have no idea what I'm supposed to be preparing for!"
"We can run to a pet store the day it gets here. If not, a night in the garage won't kill it," Greyson assured. Also, wasn't HE supposed to be the one preparing? He set his hand on her shoulder. "You worry too much."
"I worry exactly the right amount, thank you," Nyla said, whapping him with the mail. As she walked towards her office, she called out, "Lilah, you'd better have put those in the hamper!"
"Does it bring you joy to endlessly nag?!"
"I live in a house with four other people!"
Greyson chuckled. He was also probably overthinking this. It was weird, and definitely unexpected, but it would all be fine.
--
That was a human person.
Tall, with choppily short hair, kneeling in their front entryway between Evan and Lilah's running shoes and the narrow side table Nyla used for mail and key rings.
That was a human person.
They all looked to each other, wondering what to do, and this was technically Greyson's problem, which meant he was the one who should do something about this. Why. Why this. Why him?!?!
When it became undeniably obvious that the other four were waiting on him and the silence was stiflingly uncomfortable, Greyson cleared his throat and stepped forward.
"Hello?" He hadn't meant for it to sound like a question.
"Hello master," the slave returned, skirt fisted with shaking knuckles.
"I am Greyson," he cleared his throat again, "What's your name?"
"...Galo."
Oh Greyson was so out of his depth.
"So uh, you're Bethany's pet? Ex pet?" Evan asked, and Greyson was relieved someone else had said something.
"Yes master."
"This is weird," Lilah stated, shifting anxiously from foot to foot with jittery energy. "This is fucking weird. Why did your ex girlfriend give you a slave? Why were you dating someone who likes slavery?! Greyson what the fuck!"
"Okay deep breaths!" Nyla ordered loudly, everyone complying instantly. "This is. Unexpected," she agreed. "But let's not get out of hand. Galo, sweetie, would you please stand up?"
"Yes mistress."
"You don't need to call anyone master or mistress."
"Ma'am?"
"Ma'am is fine. Let's get you settled in. You can probably stay in Sasha's room at the moment, who'll sleep with me?"
Sasha nodded.
"Okay, good. Are these all of your belongings?" Nyla asked, gesturing at Galo's duffle bag, who nodded again.
"Okay, great. This way."
Greyson was so, so grateful to know Nyla. So glad she was in his life. Her competence was unparalleled.
"I-I'm going to make d-dinner."
--
Galo followed his mistress, who he wasn't going to call mistress, to a baby blue room with impressionist paintings hung from the walls, leaned up against each other, stacked against the desk and dresser. Canvases were just about everywhere, but it didn't seem messy. Just full.
"This is Sasha's room but you can stay here until we figure all this out. Oh! My name is Nyla, sorry, I spaced on that, we'll get you introduced to everyone properly once... once we settle down."
Galo bowed, hand crossed over his chest.
"This is just a little unexpected. We hadn't known you were--human."
"I'm sorry, ma'am."
"No, no, no need to apologize. Just some information lost in the pipeline. Why don't you settle in and... we'll chat more at supper."
His mistress left, closing the door behind her, and Galo was left standing in the center of a room that wasn't his.
He took a shaky breath. Well. They'd accepted his name, at least, which was nice. Maybe someday he'd tell them about... him being a man. Maybe. Definitely going to wait and see on that one, he wasn't interested in a repeat of what had happened last time he'd told an owner he was a man.
There were five of them.
Galo sank to his knees, duffle bag hitting the floor, his hands covering his mouth. There were five of them.
He was a fairly gigantic failure at keeping one owner off his back, how was he ever going to please five?!? And the little one had been so angry with his presence--he would have to show his gratitude to Mistress Nyla, later, for stepping in.
Oh god, what would they use him for? This house was no estate--maybe they would just have him clean. Yeah, maybe, maybe he could just clean for them and stick to the shadows and he would be ignored.
A hysteric peal of laughter bubbled out of him.
Ignored.
Yeah, right.
--
But for some reason, that... did seem to be the case. They ignored him. Mistress Sasha and Master Evan especially seemed to have no idea what to do with him, and would awkwardly prompt him to leave them alone if he guessed their routines wrong and ended up in the same room as them.
Master Greyson made earnest attempts to speak with him, which Galo responded to as best he could. But the conversations were stilted things. The most successful ones hinged around Mistress Bethany, and Galo always found himself stressed and exhausted after talking about her.
Mistress Lilah seemed to find him a curiosity, asking him questions and prodding him into helping her with her "Influencer Gig," which mostly involved holding light sources or cameras for her. She would occasionally do up Galo's hair and makeup, and Galo tried very, very hard not to show how miserable that made him. To smile and be grateful and not waste her product and time with babyish tears.
Mistress Nyla was his favorite. She had him help with the household chores and spoke kindly to him. She would praise and sometimes touch him. Conversations with her were... trickier, though.
Mistress Nyla has a very good memory. She would ask questions, know things he'd told Master Greyson or Mistress Lilah, gently pull his life's story from him. She would sometimes make him ask uncomfortable questions about himself, too, about his place as a slave, which--he knew better. He knew better!
She would stop, when he started shaking, though. Ask him to please go clean the kitchen or bathroom or fold laundry. It made him feel weak. A useless, manipulative slave who cried to get out of situations he didn't like.
"It's okay, Galo," she sometimes murmured, petting his hair and letting him kneel at her feet with his head in her lap. "You're being good for us. It's alright sweetie."
--
Master Evan didn't like talking to Galo. So he knew better. But one day, a couple friends of Master Evan's had come and gone, and one of them--
Not that Galo wanted to assume, or presume, but she'd. She had looked.
"Yeah, she's trans," Master Evan confirmed, looking desperately uncomfortable. Galo would find a way to apologize later. He just. He had to. He.
"And that's okay?" he blurted gracelessly, instinctively flinching back for two reasons.
"Yeah? I mean, yes, absolutely, I respect and support her 100%."
Galo fidgeted with his skirt, something Mistress Bethany had bought that he wanted little more than to burn.
"Are... do you, wanna tell me something?" Master Evan asked, also not making eye contact. "Or, maybe tell Nyla something, since I dunno if I'm really the guy to, uh." He gestured at himself and Galo bit his lip.
"The others are also, okay with, uh?"
"Being trans. Yes. It's not bad... bro? We're all chill and respectful here. Oh you know Sasha? Sasha's like, super smart, and knows all about this stuff, she could talk to you about this?"
"Yes sir," Galo said, knowing he'd overstayed his welcome the moment he'd opened his mouth.
"Cool. Chill. Yeah. Okay then," Master Evan said, and left the room quickly.
--
That night Galo had found a pair of Master Evan's sweatpants and a couple of old t-shirts on his bed.
--
The next time Lilah pulled Galo to help with her Influencer Gig, she'd done his makeup and hair and he had cried, to see a man who looked like him staring back from the mirror.
--
Mistress Nyla took him shopping. She held his hand, both literally and metaphorically, with increasing frequency as he started to transition and actually began to feel like this new house was his home. That these people weren't going to hurt him, that they maybe even liked him. Almost.
--
Mistress Sasha had him help her move her remaining belongings from the blue room. His room. They were, officially and permanently, making her old room his. Her paintings were either hung up throughout the rest of the house or set into storage in the garage. He helped her carry whatever else was left into Mistress Nyla's--now hers and Mistress Sasha's--room and organize so Mistress Nyla didn't work herself into a fit over the clutter.
"Thank you," he said quietly, crouched in front of the dresser and slipping some of Mistress Sasha's less-used attire into the drawers.
"Hm?"
"For, giving me your space, ma'am." For everything. For all of it.
Mistress Sasha crossed over to him and sat in the floor where he was, opening her arms to him. He leaned in, slowly wrapping his arms around her and pressing his face to her shoulder.
"You're part of the f-family now," she said warmly. "Of c-course."
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tiramisiyu · 3 years
Text
Tears of Themis: Lu Jinghe’s Birthday - 6.17 “Building Block Dolls”
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Translation Masterlist
Event Story: 6.13 Decision to Compete | 6.15 Personal Instruction | 6.17 Building Block Dolls | 6.19 Participating in the Competition | 6.21 Birthday Celebration
Event Story Interviews: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4
Commerce Street
MC: How lively.
A few days later, another building blocks teaching session had ended. When Lu Jinghe and I came out the classroom, we ran into an event that was being held on the commerce street. As the building blocks competition was fast approaching, fervor for building blocks had diffused throughout all of Stellis City.
MC: “Finish the works at the venue and exchange them for out-of-print components.” Sounds really interesting!
Lu Jinghe: If you like it, we can go try.
Volunteers enthusiastically led us to sit in front of the open-air work counter, with all sorts of components on the table in front of us.
Volunteer: Miss, you must be participating with your boyfriend, correct? It just so happens that our prizes today are the components of the “Lovers’ Heart” series designed personally by Mister Austin.
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Lu Jinghe: “Lovers’ Heart” series?
MC: You know this?
Lu Jinghe: Yep. Mister Austin was the creator of building blocks, and I’ve collected each set he’s designed. The “Lovers’ Heart” is a work that he made later. Both the individual components and the entire form when put together are complete polyhedral heart shapes. Its design’s ingenuity can be called absolutely unique.
Volunteer: If mister knows this much, you must be a building blocks hobbyist. That’s correct, the “Lovers’ Heart” is one of Mister Austin’s most famous representative works, and even drew in cross-border hype back then.
There was deep admiration in the volunteer’s words. After, she explained the event rules to us. It turns out that this event was a warm-up segment for the building blocks competition, and all original works could be exchanged for a “Lovers’ Heart” component.
MC: A castle, plane, teddy bear… everyone’s so amazing!
I looked at the group of people putting the blocks together around us and couldn’t help speaking out of admiration.
MC: Lu Jinghe, what should we make?
Lu Jinghe went silent for a moment and soon had an idea, picking out things from the components pile, selecting our needed parts.
MC: What are you planning to make?
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Lu Jinghe: It’s a secret.
Lu Jinghe winked at me, turned towards the work counter, and started to put something together with focus. His fingers flew, and his trained movements caught the attention of the crowds around.
MC: It looks… a little familiar.
The little building blocks doll gradually took form in Lu Jinghe’s hands, but that doll’s expression and clothes looked…
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MC: It’s�� me?!
After the finished product was displayed in his hands, I could faintly hear the whispers of the people around.
Young Woman A: Oh my god, that’s so romantic. He made his girlfriend.
Young Woman B: Handsome and talented – no surprise that someone’s got that hottie.
MC: You weren’t even looking at me, so how…
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Lu Jinghe: Because I’ve got you memorized in my heart, so I can still put it together without looking.
Only when I heard Lu Jinghe’s response did I realize that I had inadvertently spoken out my thoughts. My face reddened in an instant. Lu Jinghe placed the finished doll in my hand, a small smile on his lips.
Lu Jinghe: I’m finished, so it’s your turn now, right? Don’t be afraid, just remember what I said before.
--
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MC: S-sorry…
Half an hour later, I held up the doll that you could barely make out a human figure from, awkwardly apologizing.
Lu Jinghe: No problem, it’s no big deal if you can’t make one. Plus, I won’t have to worry about getting jealous.
MC: What?
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Lu Jinghe: What I mean is, it’s no problem if there’s no doll since you have me. After all, sometimes I even get jealous of myself.
MC: Lu! Jing! He!
Relying on Lu Jinghe’s work, we successfully exchanged it for the “Lovers’ Heart”. However, although Lu Jinghe said he didn’t mind at all, I still felt that there was disappointment under his devil-may-care attitude.
--
Home
MC: If I press on this component here… alright, done!
After that day, I focused even harder on building blocks training. Finally, before the competition, I was able to make a doll. The doll in my hand looked mostly like Lu Jinghe and had quite a frivolous aura.
MC: If Lu Jinghe saw this, what sort of expression would he make?
--
[Flashback]
Lu Jinghe: Because I’ve got you memorized in my heart, so I can still put it together without looking.
[Flashback end]
When I thought back on what Lu Jinghe said that day, my cheeks suddenly flooded with heat.
MC: So that’s… what he meant.
MC: Since I’m done putting it together, then I’ll give it to him on the day of his birthday.
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retvenkos · 3 years
Text
“i am a little bit of everything i’ve seen in my life.”
requested
MY HEADCANONS FOR THE HYBRID HARRY POTTER HOUSES...
gryffindor/ravenclaw
if you’re in gryffindor you think you’re more “refined” than everyone else, and if you’re in ravenclaw you think everyone’s a stiff
this is the person with the braincell! let it be known that they have it, but refuse to use it
they have to be a little chaotic because they know what consequences are but disregard them
these people call themselves ambiverts but it really just means they won’t talk to you if they hate you
and i say that lovingly
okay, but if they do talk to you??? best people to talk with - they can hold an interesting conversation masterfully and it’s all because their enthusiasm is off the charts
let them ramble, it’s very endearing.
and physical touch is probably their love language so cuddle with them, too
they’re sci-fi and superhero nerds change my mind
now their loyalty is really interesting because gryffindors are really loyal where as a ravenclaws are individualistic and prioritize #1, so i feel like they are very much on guard
befriending is hard - they’ll keep you at bay until they are sure you can be trusted. and they won’t be made to feel bad about it either.
but once you are close to them,,,,, they would save you or die trying
their inside jokes are god tier
i don’t know how they do it other than they know how to make people laugh using the most unexpected methods and because it was such a weird experience, people are able to remember really well?
like, they could say “nutmeg” and everyone around you starts laughing, meanwhile you’re just ???
gryffinclaws are also really interesting because they don’t do well with conflict, but drama sort of gravitates toward them because let’s be real here, they can kind of be actively seeking it out, sometimes.
i mean, it’s usually to avoid having to deal with deeper emotions or even bigger problems, but sometimes they have a hand in their own suffering....
also, these people never study if they don’t like the class. they don’t. if they dislike the subject, they procrastinate with every fibre of their being.
but if it’s something they love, they are the first to get it done and will 100% do extra research and talk about it all the time.
they say they love both cats and dogs equally, and they actually mean it.
they are most likely concerned with wanting to change the world in some way - but they want it to be a tangible way that still allows for creativity and freedom
this is also the friend who stays up wayyyyyyy too late, and when you ask them what they’re doing, all they can say is “memes”
and they really do love memes - send them some. it’s their primary way of communicating
they love going out to get lunch and chatting with friends
food + people = love
they’ll even do it in their room! just bring bread and a good conversation - they can stay up for hours
also,,,, creativity and courage??? these are the people who actually have the confidence to publish their writing/art/whatever, and i admire that.
but writers block hits them so hard... i’m so sorry
okay, but if i understand the meme right, i’d give them wine aunt status.
gryffindor/hufflepuff:
these bastards
but i say that lovingly!
this is your meddling friend - that person that knows all and you can’t hide a secret from them to save your life.
and they seem to know everyone?????
they could ruin your life if they wanted to, but they are sweet uwu children and would never - in fact, they’re appalled you would even suggest it.
don’t let them hang out with gryffindor slytherins, no matter what. they will be corrupted and then it’s all over.
“but why are they bastards?” you ask. well,,,, if you’re acting surly or really don’t want to do a thing™ they will use their knowledge against you, prodding you in the direction you did not want to be going
of course, they only ever use this power when it’s for your greater good, but it’s annoying and invasive enough to grant them bastard status.
10/10 the mom friend.
even has the mom stare.
you know - the whole “you’re being irrational and you’re going to do this no matter how you hate it” stare
they have the  m o s t   energy and i honestly admire that
and they’re so hard working and dedicated that motivation isn’t a problem? it’s really just trying to get a solid, coherent thought that plagues them.
someone please get them a planner - they are constantly running late, but excited to be here!
100% have cottagecore vibes, or at least naturecore or adventurecore
point is, they want to be outside, doing things
they most likely want to make change in this world, but on a smaller level - with the people they care about, or the place they live
they really want to see what this world has to offer, but they are deathly afraid of being lonely
ngl, they probably get hurt by people a lot. they’re a little too trusting and go in a little too deep and when that other person leaves it does irrevocable damage.
it’s kind of like idealism and optimism, but at what cost?
100% smother their own feelings with a pillow and then preoccupy themself with the problems of others to not deal with their own
get them someone to talk to, please. they deserve it.
most likely they are an extrovert and surround themself with people so that they won’t have to feel loss as hard
spoiler alert: loss is always crushing.
gryffinpuffs believe in people - it’s their greatest gift and worst downfall
and they cannot live without them
do they have the braincell? sometimes. most of the time they share it and forget to ask for it back.
they probably like to do tangible things - like sculpture or knitting, baking, caring for plants....
something they can hold close
and if they read, they 100% finish books in one sitting. they just binge and it’s very iconic of them
probably a romantic, idk
they want a meet cute in real life and read all of the marriage fanfics
gryffindor/slytherin:
now these are the people who smile when you call them a bastard
and are most likely to be called a bastard unlovingly
at first glance they might be a little low on the empathy scales, but if you make it into their circle they would kill, die, and resurrect themself for you
BUT! all things come with a cost.
these are your friends with shifting loyalties. they are loyal until they feel your loyalty toward them fade, and they can and will shift against you for self preservation.
and they won’t feel bad about where their loyalties lie.
but please love them because if you really do believe in them they will feel it and it will rock their whole world
and if your feelings are strong, you’ll be surprised how quickly they can turn to you for guidance
if you haven’t noticed, this group is extremely intuitive - they can just sense what everyone feels about them
all that intuition... and quite a lot of tact
maybe it’s the cunning or the self preservation in them, but they can read a room really well - only bested by the hufflepuff/slytherin - and can sway everyone to their side
you want someone to give oddly accurate motivational speeches? this is the person you’re looking for!
slytherdors.... you either love them or you hate them
but no joke these are the people that the gryffinclaws and slytherclaws are constantly fighting - and the slytherdor is ready to throw hands at any given moment, someone pLEASE send a ravenpuff (huffleclaw?) to save them
if you wanted someone to embody teenage angst, HERE YOU GO!
it’s either that or they are extremely competitive and not afraid to call someone out
if there’s a dueling club, someone please put restraints on these children
as you can imagine, these people have a lot going on, and what they really need is just some quiet stability.
they need to see this world isn’t constantly out to get them.
they absolutely love music, so listen to songs with them! they have the best spotify playlists with the most obscure vibes, and it’s very aesthetically pleasing
also! listen to them in any group setting - they make the best, dry comments under their breath
if you laugh at them they will reach into the heavens and give you the moon and the stars
they really want the ~found family~ and definitely seek it out
they crave redemption arcs
they give me baby wolf vibes - they are wild killers, but they’re at that tender age where they’re still vvv similar to a puppy, when given affection
their slytherin side has tamed the impulsivity of a gryffindor, but the level of tactician a slytherdor is varies wildly. you never know what you’re going to get, and they are actually really good at covering it up
kind of like on those alignment charts where it’s like “looks like they could kill you but is a cinnamon roll” except it’s “seems competent, but is really an idiot”
they really need an animal companion, probably a cat or tarantula
the slytherdor probably doesn’t feign to study - they either do or they don’t and if that’s bad for their mental health then they’ll fight god himself
i get a lot of vibes of zuko screaming at the sky in that lightning storm, where he’s like, “come on, strike me! you’ve never held back before!”
maybe i’ve been a little negative, but uh,,,, their love language is sitting in the dark, holding hands and talking about the lamest part of their day
also, they hate meaningless endings to tv shows - they just want to see everyone be happy or die trying
ravenclaw/hufflepuff:
you mean the adjusted ravenclaw?
maybe that was mean, but what i really mean is that they are the most emotionally intelligent of all the ravenclaws
these ravenclaws know how to use conflict resolution skills, and they are very much needed in ravenclaw tower
they’ve been coaching the gryffindor/ravenclaws, but good luck maintaining their attention if they don’t want to listen
they also have patience! that means they get along well with slytherins.
even if they’re tired, they’re a good sport about it
light academia aesthetic, or just soft vibes in general.
they are probably the only artists with a coherent schedule that they keep up on, while still remembering to stay hydrated and function like a normal human being
they lowkey crave structure - the unexpected is not for them
riddles? those have a right and wrong answer - they absolutely hate it when the gryffindor/ravenclaws or ravenclaw/slytherins give an answer that is “technically” right
they probably don’t tell anyone, though
passive-aggression? yep. i can feel them seething from here.
like, they can solve minor problems and can get over bigger ones in time, but if it’s a huge slight, they are never going to let go
and it’s super palpable when they dislike you because they are so kind to everyone else
they probably have a passion for poetry but can’t seem to write any themself
definitely still keep a book of it hidden under their bed, though
and if they are good they vehemently deny it but continue to write anyway
the biggest thing they struggle with is knowing their direction in life - who do they want to be?
abstract thinking is an art form, and these ravenclaws ponder existence in the most intangible ways you’ve ever seen
10/10 lay on the ground and stare at the ceiling for like 3 hours straight
they can vary wildly on the introvert-extrovert scale, but they are never in the middle. extremes only.
you can get close to them out with acts of service - they give so much, please just treat them ONCE
they attach themself to so many people, though. even if they’re an introvert, you’d be surprised with their connections.
they’re so level headed and yet, they can feel so lost
kind of reminds me of 50′s moms who seem perfect on the outside but have existential crises while making a roast in heels
they don’t necessarily want to be “known” - they probably feel like that definition is changing all of the time, so it would scare them to put themself in a box
i guess they’re kind of free spirits - maybe more like the aunt who does yoga with baby goats and collects crystals and pretty shells
they are great at conflict resolution, yes, but don’t expect them to be your therapist (that’s the hufflepuff/slytherin)
they have absolutely no idea when it comes to deep feelings - they barely understand their own
probably paints, tbh, or at the very least loves to go to museums w/ really abstract art.
they actually have the braincell! they keep it a lot of the time and can be stingy with it.
they either wake up really early in the morning or stay up until the sun rises because it gives them “clarity” or something.
ravenclaw/slytherin:
they’re definitely the blunt friend who will just say things as they see them
yeah, tact is lost on them
they also love to claim that they “don’t need” people, so they butt heads with the hufflepuff/slytherin and the ravenclaw/hufflepuff a lot
they have quite a bit of stratagem up their sleeve, so people can be weary of them
their attitude does nothing to solve this, but it could also be that the slytherclaw has this idea that flattery gets them nowhere
they are so divisive in their individualism,,, good luck befriending them
but if you do befriend them, you have a powerful friend in your corner.
they are 100% that distant relative that you think hates you but you aren’t sure if that’s just the way they are
but let me tell you a secret,,,, their love language is words of affirmation and if you stroke their ego they’ll grow soft
while slytherclaws may not be very persuasive on their own, they actually work really well in teams. they know everyone’s strengths are are unafraid to take charge and tell people what needs to be done and how
they’re also really good at logical thinking, so you definitely want to be lab partners with this one
and schoolwork? they do it and they take good notes. a really great student
and their ambitions and competitiveness means they are unafraid to go far, and they will do it in style, too
this is the epitome of dark academia. 
and there is very little that is chaotic when it comes to them - the slytherclaw is an excellent planner
maybe they desire more out of life - they never feel like they are quite getting what they want
they are cynical, but they they have such high hopes for this world
when they are let down, they’re not surprised but disenchanted nonetheless
they ponder the meaning of the world and what this world could be far more than they ponder their own life
they tend to see a bigger, more sweeping picture
100% they love the odyssey and definitely think it’s better than the iliad
they adore high fantasy with every fibre of their being and can really get into period dramas
i would say that a gryffindor/ravenclaw would be a good friend for them - we all know a gryffinclaw can talk, and sometimes a slytherclaw just needs to hear someone else’s take on this world
and, of course, it helps when anyone shows appreciation
okay, but they love sweets - chocolate, liquorice, peppermint, caramel... it’s one of the few childish things they allow themself to have.
they are actually relatively quick to trust? the fastest slytherin, actually
they keep their group small, but they get vibes about people and once you show them loyalty they trust you entirely.
i suppose they guess you don’t have any games because they don’t have any
ooh, but if you betray them??? they are a mess, emotionally, and will not hesitate to lash out.
but they are caring in their own way, and will do little things like reminding you to drink water or bringing you toast if you haven’t eaten and it’s very sweet
hufflepuff/slytherin:
so i know we have this idea of the slytherin sweetheart, but a slytherpuff is so much more than that
one of their strongest traits is the intersection of ambition and hard work - they will not stop until they are the best (in their mind at least)
it’s almost a petty form of competition. a bit of schadenfreude when they win.
and everyone’s immediate thought is that a hufflepuff/slytherin would be the most trusting slytherins but no.
not even close.
slytherpuffs are guarded at first, while holding a secret soft spot for you in their heart. but they won’t act on it until they are 100% sure you won’t hurt them. they are suspicious, but really want to like people.
it takes a lot to break down their walls, but when you do they already have a steady foundation for your trust to grow on, and it’s the strongest thing in this world
because of this they can often come off as cold or distant, but once you’re in their circle, oh yeah. there’s the hufflepuff qualities you were searching for.
a good contender for the mom friend position, but they aren’t overt enough to be so.
they’re not getting into your business or being slightly invasive like real mom friends, but if you need advice or a hug,,,,, this is the friend to go to.
they’re like the nice aunt. vvv comforting, but only if sought out.
oh, they have the strongest moral code i have ever seen - it cannot be shaken or swayed.
but! it can often go against the rules, so you do have a bit of chaos working beneath the surface.
i 100% believe that their love language is quality time, and most of that can be spent quietly, just sitting in the other’s presence.
i feel like 90% of their conversations is hand gestures or subtle facial expressions, so it make take a while to be able to read them, but it also means they are soooo good at reading other people
seriously, if you need a therapist in the group, this is your person. they know people so well. their intuition is off the charts.
BUT ALSO,,,, their levels of introvertedness are sky high. i feel like this is a given, but they can be in your orbit for 5 months and speak to your twice and think that is a decent amount of exposure.
please get them an extrovert. they need the exposure.
sEcReTS??? this slytherin probably has some, but you have to be like at level 50 to unlock their tragic backstory
they also have academia vibes and do really well in school work, but whether or not it’s dark academia or light academia is disputed. maybe grey academia? (is that a thing?)
they struggle with wanting to be known and yet wanting to hide parts of themself they find unattractive or unwanted
probably feel like they’re pulled in too many directions and overthink their choices just a bit too much.
everyone knows they have the braincell, but whether or not they use it is unsure
it’s so easy for their friends to coax them, they probably give it to someone else and never ask for it back even though they should be in sole custody of it
AND FLUFF ENSUES. (i realize some of these are kind of aggressive, so... vibe check!)
-- taglist: @musicallisto, @theletterhart, @locke-writes, @randomfandomimagine, @brokenandheadoverheels, @timeofmadness, @writerdream22 // message me if you’d like to be added to the taglist!
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revasnaslan · 2 years
Note
Can I be nosy and ask why you don't like Queen of Shadows? I actually loved that one so I'm super curious
Short answer: bad pacing, aelin in general, relationship drama being drawn out because I guess dorian being held by a valg wasn't enough, it took me two and a half months to read
Long answer:
Okay so, one of Sarah J Maas' biggest weaknesses in her writing is her pacing. It is so bad that all of her books are a slog to get through, and that's the reason it's taken me almost two years to get through her bibliography. I have to take self imposed breaks in between each book (and have been since I finished the acotar series) because otherwise I'd send myself into a reading slump. For reference, I just started reading the stormlight archive by Brandon Sanderson, and those books are all over 1000 pages and I have to physically restrain myself from requesting the next one from the library so I can read other books on my tbr. It's not a page count issue at all.
Her pacing is just... so bad? And it's absolutely gotten worse over time, probably because she's been given her auteur license and the ability to blanket reject editorial suggestions. I hypothesize that Queen of Shadows is from around the time that she had recently gotten that license, although you can kind of see it a bit in Heir of Fire too. I didn't like Heir of Fire either, but I liked it marginally more than Queen of Shadows. In a flaccid attempt as positivity I will admit that at least Heir of Fire had an *adventure* going on during it, there was an entirely new location, with new characters. Yeah those characters weren't particularly *good* but it was new. Queen of Shadows basically takes place in an apartment when we're with Aelin, and we don't even get to see half the stuff that happens while she's running around? It was such a bizarre choice because that's way more interesting than her relationship drama with Chaol and Rowan.
I will admit that Manon and Elide's whole subplot was... I wouldn't say good because I really hate her worldbuilding with the witches and how she decided to write the whole We're Being Used As Baby Factories subplot. However, the mystery there was so much better written than Aelin pulling out a new Chekov Gun that we, the readers were seemingly not privy to considering how many times I was left scratching my head. That happened so often it was laughable and irritating to an outrageous degree, and it comes off like Sarah J Maas doesn't trust Aelin to come off as competent based off her own merits, so she has to make her the most competent person in the room instead.
Seriously Dorian's subplot with the wyrdstone collar should have been the MAIN focus, but it felt like it took a backseat to Aelin/Chaol melodrama, Aelin/Rowan's will-they-won't-they, Aelin being Hyper Competent, whatever the fuck was going on with Arobynn (hey Sarah, why did you decide to change him from being Aelin's father figure as was said in book one to being creepily obsessed with her??? hey Sarah I just want to talk)... oh and the aedion/rowan drama with the warrior bond thing?? Hated it, found it pointless.
My last point is that if a book takes me two and a half months to finish, that says something about the pacing and writing. My usual time for prose novels? 2 to 3 days for a 400-500 page book. I can read a 300 some page book in a day if I get really into it, I regularly read 300 page history books for fun in roughly a day. Queen of Shadows is about 650 pages it probably should have taken me about 5 days(ish) to read. And it's not that I was in a reading slump, I read about 10 other books in those two and a half months, including a Jennifer L Armentrout book which was about as bad. I also just finished Empire of Storms in about 5 days and that book is about the same length.
In short, it was a lot of things 🙃🙃🙃
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sir-subpar · 4 years
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Will You Date Me?
*Innocent!Henry Au Prequel*
       Felix let out a frustrated sigh, running his fingers through his hair as he walked home. Henry, his culinary classmate, had barated Felix for his lack of basic cooking knowledge earlier that day. Felix admittedly couldn't really blame Henry for being frustrated with him. After all, he managed to set fire to spaghetti. While it had water in it. Yeah, Felix didn't know how he managed to do that either. It was a mystery to everyone. He wasn't frustrated because Henry yelled at him, no he was frustrated with himself. Because once again he had made a fool of himself in front of the guy he was trying to impress.
     "Ugh. Why do I always do this!?" Felix shouted to himself. He had been wanting to get closer to Henry for a while. He was hoping to eventually date Henry. He tried to be "smooth", with flirting, partnering with Henry during culinary class, bringing him little gifts, etc. It's not like Henry hated him, on the contrary, they hung out pretty often as friends; but Felix wanted to be more than that. Gosh, he was infatuated by Henry. He adored him. He loved how Henry was proud to be himself, how absolutely shameless Henry could be. He adored Henry's talent in the kitchen (the cupcakes he made were freaking awesome). He enjoyed learning about Henry's other interests, like video games or gemstones (apparently emeralds were his favourite). He just loved Henry, he wanted to be all romantic and sweep Henry off his feet… but he always ended up looking like a doofus. Every time he came close to asking Henry out, he ended up making some sort of mistake and completely failing. Why did asking people out have to be so hard!? Despite these difficulties, however, Felix wasn't a quitter. He was gonna keep trying until he got acceptance or rejection. 
      Felix continued to walk when he noticed a certain small someone a decent distance in front of him… Henry Stickmin. Now was his chance to try again! Feeling suddenly giddy, Felix started running. "Henry! Wait up!" Henry paused, turning around to face Felix, watching said teenager run towards him. "I wanted to ask-" Felix started, too excited to notice the sizable crack in the sidewalk until his foot was already caught in it. His running pace suddenly interrupted as he was thrown into the concrete face first. Henry watched Felix's face become acquainted with the ground (wasn't hard, Felix was, like, maybe seven feet away from him). Henry stood with his heels together, dramatically gesturing towards Felix's face down body. "Here lies Felix White. He ran fast, and died an idiot." Henry said jokingly. "Mmmf hmf hmm!" Felix objected, although it was muffled and impossible to tell what exactly he said, considering he still had a facefull of gravel. "Ah nevermind, he still lives!" Henry joked again. Giggling slightly, Henry leaned down to be closer to Felix. "Seriously though, are you okay?" Henry asked. Felix finally moved his arms to prop himself up, looking towards the other. Henry gasped. Felix's face was covered in blood and already swelling up. His lip was busted, his nose was bleeding and there was a scrape on his cheek. Henry immediately helped Felix up to his feet. "C'mon ya doofus, I have a first aid kit at my house." Henry commented, half teasing as a way to keep some feeling of leavity. 
     The two of them got to Henry's house, staying in Henry's room. Felix sat on Henry's bed as his wounds were being treated. Henry cleaned the blood, scrapes, and the cuts that plagued Felix's face. "Ow ow ow!" Felix muttered, his face stinging from the peroxide. "I know it stings, but I can't clean your wounds if you keep flinching away like that. Just try to sit still." Henry instructed, he held Felix's head still with his unoccupied hand, his hand on his cheek. Felix, without thinking, leaned into Henry's touch. It wasn't awkward, seeing as Henry surprisingly didn't react to the sudden intimacy, it was quiet, and calm. Felix enjoyed Henry's comforting warmth, it was a pleasant distraction from the pain in his face. 
     Henry broke the silence. "So are you gonna finish telling me what was so important you had to eat the gravel?" Felix nervously chuckled at Henry's joking tone, then he sighed, realising that he once again failed to be romantic. That had gotten really old, really fast, and Felix was done with it. Felix took a deep breath. " I...wanted to ask you something." Felix closed his eyes, feeling nervous. "What did you want to ask me?" Henry questioned as he gently placed bandages on Felix's face. "I've been trying to ask this for a while. I originally wanted it to be more romantic than this, but uh, you saw what happened out there." Felix chuckled before continuing. "I just want to say that I really like spending time with you! I have so much fun when you're around, and I'm constantly learning new things with you. Even though you tease me, I know that you care. And I appreciate your willingness to help me in culinary class even though I'm basically just a walking liability. That being said though, I would- uh, well. I- err.. I want.." Felix grew frustrated as he nervously stuttered. Darn it Felix! Just ask him! It shouldn't be this hard! Stop acting like you forgot how to be a competent human being! Ask him! Felix internally shouted at himself. "I… uh… want to be more.. Than friends…" Felix managed to say, not confidently as he wanted, but at least it was something. "Felix White, are you asking me out?" Henry asked in a cheeky tone. Felix nervously chuckled. "Ha ha… Yeah." He admitted, feeling slightly relieved. "Do you have any particular idea for a date you want to do or…?" Henry questioned. "Oh! Right, uh.. I'm not sure, honestly. I was kinda thinking we could just go to that little 'make your own' bakery you like? Make some sweets together and whatnot but uh… I've come to realize that I'm a walking liability in the kitchen. So, I'm open to suggestions." Felix rambled slightly.  "You got that right." "Henry! I was trying to be sincere! You ruined the moment!" Felix whined, Henry only chuckled playfully. "Alright, alright, I'm sorry. Tell you what, I'll go on a date with you, if you promise that you'll practice your culinary skills. Does that sound like a fair deal?" Felix's eyes lit up with excitement. "You mean it?" Henry nodded. "Yes. I mean it, Felix." Felix smiled, his busted lips making the action slightly painful. Worth it. He wrapped his arms around Henry, pulling him into a hug. 
"Deal!" 
"Also, try not to make out with the sidewalk next time."
"Henry!"
"Hey, you asked me out. You want this apparently."
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