#my favorite part is basically the entire exchange at the end of the fight- the part after sasori gets fatally wounded until his death | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

monocaelia · 3 years

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royalty au headcanons

what they would be in a royalty au and the sweet moments shared with them.

feat. albedo, childe, diluc, kaeya, venti

genre : fluff, slight angst in childe's

❀ albedo

albedo is the royally appointed painter of your family. he's in charge of painting all of the portraits of the royal family, which is well deserved. the blond artist's brush strokes and painting techniques make all of his works of art feel so alive, almost as if they could walk out of the canvas they were painted on and live amongst the people.

he prides in his works, always making sure each square inch of each painting absolutely perfect before presenting it to the royal family. even if they were already perfect to begin with. but, as they say, you're your own worst critic.

from since you were both young, he was hired by your family to teach you the basics of the arts as well as how to properly hold a brush.

so, you could say albedo has watched you grow from a grubby child to the elegant and refined person you grew up to be. an honor, really, to watch the stars in your eyes grow brighter and brighter with each passing year.

"ah, you've messed up the brush stroke here," albedo's gentle voice points out the mistake in your technique. your ears burn from having your mistakes pointed out, but you know it's for the best. you clear your throat and try to fix it, only to have albedo sigh from beside you.

"like this, your highness." before you can even react, you feel the heat from albedo's chest radiating against your back and your hand is encased in his own. he guides your hand with his, making the brush you're holding glide smoothly across the canvas.

his hand is cold, you think to yourself, and you wonder if he's been maintaining his health properly. but in contrast to his hand, his breath is warm against your ear as he talks you through the painting technique.

it's hard to focus when you're feeling overstimulated from the proximity of the blond painter and the rather domestic position you're in; almost as if your entire body is being embraced by the artist you grew up with.

"understand, your highness?" his quiet voice breaks your thoughts. he's close to you... so close. you gulp, praying to the archons above that albedo couldn't feel your hands shaking from this entire exchange.

"i thought you were supposed to call me by my name when we're alone together, albedo," you stutter out shakily. it's then that albedo realizes the position the two of you are in. his teal eyes widen slightly in surprise and his ears begin to burn a light pink. the artist pulls away, muttering a small apology to you.

though, albedo has to admit that having you in his arms, albeit for painting, felt so nice. from the position he was in, albedo could have counted the thousands of stars that your eyes held; and he would do anything to see them again.

❀ childe

ajax became a knight of your kingdom from a young age. he was always bored from the day to day schedule of his familial job; he wanted more and nothing could satiate the need to do something, anything that could give him the exhilaration that he needed.

which being in the knights provided for him. from learning how to properly wield a sword, to sparring with the best knights in your kingdom, to being a master at any and all weapons in your artillery, the ginger haired knight loved every second. he always felt alive when wielding his weapon, always grinning ear to ear when he's sparring for fun.

despite being a terrifying machine of war, ajax would never betray your family, let alone you. he swore an oath to protect everyone in the kingdom when he joined the knights, and that included you. the one who has watched him since he was a clumsy knight in training, fixed up his injuries, and wiped his tears away when he was frustrated with himself.

the call of ajax's name alerts him of your presence along with the quick pads of your shoes against the pavement. said male turns to look at you, smile big and bright on his face. "your highness! fancy seeing you here so late. did you miss me that mu-"

"is it true?" you interrupt him. your furrowed brows and frown etched onto your features contrast against the bright expression on the knight's. ajax's smile falters a bit when you stop in front of him, holding your arm and biting your lip in concern. "is it true that you're going to fight in the war?"

ajax blinks, stunned at your question. but he laughs lowly, not helping you in your concerned state. "of course, why wouldn't i? i made an oath to protect you, your family, and the people. it's my duty to go to the front lines."

his cerulean eyes stare into your own. you take a breath, hesitating on what to say or do next. ajax assumes you're going to scold him for throwing himself into the pits of danger, assumes that you're going to yell at him because when he fights he fights with no care to his own body. he would power on through the fight until he physically wasn't capable anymore.

"would you stay with me if i asked you to?"

your question surprises the ginger knight. out of all things that you could have done or said, he wasn't expecting this.

his finger strokes your cheek, sliding forward until your jaw rests in the palm of his hand. ajax gives you a smile, endearing yet bittersweet. he wants to stay here with you, to see your annoyed expression when he ends up hurting himself again or the huge smile on your face when he does something dumb.

but duty calls. and you know that.

his heart falls when you sigh and pull away from his touch. but it flutters again when he feels something hard press into the palm of his hand, your own covering his.

"then, promise me you won't die out there, ajax. take this lucky charm of mine and stay safe. i'll miss you."

you plant a quick kiss on his freckled cheek and run off before he could see you cry. unfolding his hands, he's greeted with the delicate, red mask you've placed in his hands.

❀ diluc

being the heir to the throne of your own family makes it hard to miss the prince of the neighboring kingdom. prince diluc is a stoic and hard to please person. every time you've seen him in passing at royal balls, he has always had a frown or blank expression on his face.

but, despite what his outer expression and appearance shows, the young prince is a kind and gentle individual. at least to you. in contrast to how stoic he is with others, his warmth is always welcoming and comforting to you. if he's being honest, you're one of the few people, if not the only person, who has witnessed the genuine yet small smile of prince diluc.

when he has the time off, he writes letters to you, often complaining about how useless the knights and how he would rather work alone. but he never fails to indulge you about the little things that have happened since the last time he has spoken to you. how he misses seeing you and that the next time you visit he would take you to a beautiful meadow he passed by on one of his scouts around mondstadt.

you, his only friend who sees the young prince as who he is, and not what the rumors, nor what his title says he is.

"thought i'd see you out here." diluc's ears perk at the familiar cadence of your voice. his eyes that held the warmth of fire flit up to look at you, and his breath is taken away. underneath the gentle glow of the moon, you're practically glowing in front of him. with rich, beautiful silks covering your body and a comforting smile quirking your lips up.

"what are you doing out here? it's cold out here, and the party's inside, [name]," he scolds you. diluc's expression deadpans when you stick your tongue out the corner of your mouth and shrug. when a cold breeze flows through and you physically shiver, the red haired prince sighs and slides off his coat, throwing it over your shoulders.

"i could say the same to you. besides, i saw you out here looking lonely and like a fool, so i thought it would be nice to join you. so you don't look so pathetic." it takes everything in the young prince to not take his jacket back from you and march back inside the palace with the intolerable guests. "i'm kidding! but not about the lonely part. are you alright?"

the playful glint in your eyes disappears in that moment, captivating diluc yet again. he could never outright tell you this, but your eyes are the most beautiful he has ever seen. filled with actual starlight and twinkling with fondness for the awkward prince.

"yeah, just a bit overwhelmed with the guests inside."

you hum in response to him. "well. why don't i keep you company then? from one royal to another. we don't have to say anything, but having someone with you is comforting, right?" ruby eyes widen when you step forward and grab onto his hands, intertwining them. he hopes his cheeks aren't as red as they feel and that you can't see his blush despite the proximity.

"r-right. as long as it's just you, [name]."

maybe the young prince will find the courage to be more forward with you, ask to court you with a bouquet if your favorite flowers and a love letter slipped in between the petals. but for now, he finds solace in your company and your gentle hand laced with his.

❀ kaeya

the origins of how kaeya ended up in your kingdom's calvary is an enigma. no one is quite sure where he had come from, nor had any idea who he trained under considering he was an exceptional equestrian and sword fighting on horseback came so easy to him. every time anyone asked him about his background or history, the blue haired knight would always brush it off and redirect the conversation to something else.

despite having a mysterious background, kaeya still ended up captain of your calvary not too long after he joined your kingdom. though, anyone could have expected it considering he easily outwitted the previous calvary captain in their own sparring sessions.

during his time there, you can't admit that kaeya hasn't caught your eye. he's handsome; his laughter and taunts while sparring with the other knights sends butterflies to your stomach. charismatic and always lightly teasing you whenever you drop by the knight's hall made it difficult to suppress the rhythmic thrum of your heart.

"oh come on, your highness. don't tell me you're getting cold feet now." the smirk on kaeya's face only grows when you send him a glare. he finds it amusing that you're still trying to stand your ground despite your evident fear of the horse in front of you. "i thought you knew how to mount a horse."

the calvary captain snickers when you tell him that you are going to, that you're just not familiar with his horse. his sapphire eye follows your movements and form a crescent when his horse turns her head to look at you.

as you try and muster out an explanation on why you were startled, kaeya takes this time to slide his hands underneath your arms and hoists you up above the horse. your leg slips over the saddle of the pure white mare and you yelp in surprise at the sudden motion.

before you can yell at kaeya for not warning you, the calvary captain climbs onto the saddle behind you. because of the limited space on his horse, the blue haired knight's chest is pressed against your back and his arms encase you so that he could properly hold onto the reins.

"cat got your tongue, your highness? there's no need to be so scared, i won't let you fall. well, unless you're being more unpleasant than usual. don't blame me if you end up on the floor."

laughter surrounds you when you yell at the calvary captain to 'stop messing around.' he can't help it; kaeya loves riling you up and hearing his name slip from your lips regardless of if it's in between fits of giggles or out of anger when he teases you one too many times.

from the position you're in, you aren't able to witness the endearing look that adorns kaeya's visage when you calm down and lean into his touch as soon as his mare starts moving.

❀ venti

there's nothing that suits venti more than being associated with music in some way, shape, or form. he's a well known musician around your kingdom; knowing at least the basics of every instrument known to man and having every song he has ever heard by memory.

rumors around your kingdom flutter around, saying that hearing a song sung by venti himself could cure almost any disease because of how angelic and healing his voice is. of course, it's not true but the young bard likes to play along with it. anything to get free drinks at the local bar, right?

there's no surprise that your family hired the bard to become your piano tutor. but cheeky smiles, poetic songs regarding the beauty of nature, and lyrical poetry of the beauty you hold make it hard for you to not fall for the playful virtuoso.

a delicate melody drifts down the halls of the castle, elegant staccato piano cords resonate in each other's harmony. your fingers deftly glide over the ivory keys, eyes closed and letting your memory guide you through the piece.

beside you, venti plays your counterpart with a gentle smile on his face. a contrast to the beautiful, yet complicated composition that was being performed.

it was his idea to learn this rather tedious piano duet; you thought it was too difficult because of the complicated melodic line and technical harmonies. you recall many nights filled with frustrated tears and crumpled silk from trying to perfect the melody given to you; and venti's gentle voice as he consoled you during those nights and urged you to rest.

before you know it, the piano duet ends with a final statement of the tonic harmony. silence settles into the room as the final chord resonates in the empty concert hall, only to be broken when you shout victoriously.

"your highness, that was a wonderful performance!" venti congratulates you with a proud smile on his lips. the percussive beat in his chest accelerates when you beam at him, the candlelight making your eyes gleam as if they held the entire universe in them.

"it's all thanks to you, venti! oh gosh, i'm so proud of us i could almost kiss you!" the statement leaves your mouth without thinking and leaves the both of you stunned. one, two, three beats of silence and on the fourth you begin to stutter out an apology with a flustered expression on your face.

venti's airy, light laugh fills your ears and echoes against the vast walls of the concert hall. you want to dig yourself in a hole and hide for the rest of your life.

"and what if i take you up on that offer, your highness? or should i call you [name] now? a kiss ending this performance of ours would be way better than a bow, don't you think?"

#albedo headcanons #albedo x reader #childe x reader #childe headcanons #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia headcanons #diluc x reader #diluc headcanons #kaeya x reader #kaeya headcanons #venti x reader #venti headcanons #didi writes #genshin #genshin impact

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solemnly-mischievous · 3 years

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rivalry (d.m. x reader)

You and Draco Malfoy have a rocky relationship, at best. It'd be better to describe it as a rivalry. But all it takes is a bit of fire from your end to finally make him snap.

(AKA: I just really wanted to write an enemies-to-lovers trope for my first fic.)

A/N: Hi! First fic. Hope you like it. :)

Contains: Degradation, slight edging, d/s elements, slight dub-con (but not really; full consent is clearly given), light humiliation

Word count: 3.9K

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Normally, Defense Against the Dark Arts would be your favorite class. The spells you learn are fun and useful; Professor Lupin is always a plus, and most importantly, you’re good at the subject—so bloody good, you’ve bested even Hermione and Harry multiple times.

But lately, you’ve been finding yourself dreading the lessons. So much, in fact, that you were half-considering asking Hermione to hex you just to get out of your afternoon class.

Why? It’s a pretty easy answer when you got down to it.

Draco Malfoy.

You’d had an ongoing rivalry with the git since third grade. He’s been terrorizing you and your friends, mostly because of Harry, but along the way the two of you had begun building a personal vendetta.

(He probably hasn’t quite yet forgiven you for hexing him so badly he’d had to stay in the Infirmary for weeks, and you certainly haven’t forgiven him for causing your friends so much grief over the years.)

This year, you’d thought you could try your best to avoid him, with your upcoming N.E.W.T.s and all. But DADA had other plans.

Professor Lupin had begun experimenting with mixing up partners for class—it was, after all, a very hands-on class—and had apparently decided that cross-house interaction would build bonds and skill. His exact words were, “If they’re your friend, you’re gonna go easier on them. In the real world, you never know who you’re fighting with—or against.”

So he’d randomized the name list. You, being Gryffindor, knew immediately you wouldn’t be with any of your closest friends—but you hoped that perhaps you’d be paired with Cedric, or Luna, or anyone but—

“Your partner is Draco Malfoy,” Professor Lupin informed you when he got to your name, and you immediately make to protest.

“Her?” a voice came just as you complained “Not him”, and the students parted to reveal Draco himself, glaring daggers at you and Lupin.

“Yes, her,” Lupin replied, unruffled. “Now, pair up, everyone. We’re practicing Stunning today.”

That day, you’d fucking limped out of the classroom. Not to say Draco had gotten it easier—he could barely stand after you Disarmed, Stunned, and hit him with a nasty stinger hex just for the sake of it. (You’d gotten detention, but it was worth it.)

Today’s your second class with Malfoy, and you’ve never wanted more to be able to commit violent actions in your life.

“Please,” you whisper to Hermione as your group enter the DADA classroom. “Just one hex. I won’t even go to Pomfrey. No witnesses. You could just Petrify me, if that’s more to your liking.”

She sighs. “I’m not going to Petrify you.”

“’Mione,” you say, scandalized. “I thought we were friends.”

“Pair up, everyone,” Lupin calls out. Your friends shuffle away and you close your eyes, already getting a headache from the thought of—

“Well, well.” That fucking smarmy voice. “If it isn’t Potter’s little friend.”

“If it isn’t Daddy’s boy,” you snap, opening your eyes and glaring at Malfoy, who already has his wand out. “Bugger off, Malfoy.”

“Afraid I can’t do that.” Draco’s eyes narrow. Clearly, he’s as displeased with the situation as you are. “What are we doing today, then? Can’t wait to knock you down a few notches. Star of the class, my—”

“Patronuses!” Professor Lupin announces from across the room, and your heart soars—Patronuses, you could do that. Harry, months earlier, had taught you how to perfect a corporeal form in exchange for tips on his Astronomy essay. He isn’t here today—maybe you could be the only one in the class to do it.

Lupin continues, “Yes, the Patronus—an essential in the world of Defense magic. We’ll be starting with just the simple basics of it. A strong flick of the wand, and the words ‘Expecto Patronum!’. Say it with me, everyone.”

You chorus the words obediently along with the class, Malfoy’s snort of derision not going unnoticed.

“Good. Good, good, now—the key to the Patronus is to think of a happy memory. It has to be strong. Remember, Dementors feed on misery—it’s the only way to keep them away. Now, go practice. I’ll be walking around to see if there’s any problems.”

“Expecto Patronom,” Malfoy repeats in a mocking voice once the classroom starts filling with the chants of fellow students. “Doesn’t Potter know how to do that one? Heard he can do a deer. Pretty weak animal if you ask me—”

“A stag,” you correct. “And it’s Patronum, not Patronom.”

He glares at you again. “Think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

“Certainly smarter than you are.” You glance at him. “Though that’s not saying much, is it?”

You give Fred Weasley, who’d circled around to hear the conversation, a not-discreet fist-bump.

“Alright then.” Malfoy spits out your last name, trying to provoke you. “Let’s see you do it.”

“You try,” you suggest, hiding your smirk. “Unless you’re too scared.”

Draco grits his teeth. Unwilling to back down from a challenge, he brandishes his wand. “Expecto Patronum!”

A thin, wispy light appears at the end of his wand—weak, but clearly visible. Classmates around you murmur as they notice it, and Professor Lupin beams as he sees Draco’s doing. “Very good, Draco! A fantastic start.”

Draco flicks his wand smugly and the Patronus charm dissipates. He smirks, shooting you an expectant look.

You take out your wand, feeling its familiar grip, and you close your eyes. You recall the memory of a weekend in Hogsmeade with your friends, drinking Butterbeer as you stroll through the snowy village, pointing out the shops and people. Unconsciously, you smile.

“Expecto Patronum!”

Light blazes so bright you can see it under closed eyes, and you open them to find a glowing golden retriever prancing out the end of your wand. It bounds around in the air joyfully, leaving a trail of light where it leaps, and circles the classroom, eventually coming back to you and wagging its tail.

Professor Lupin is grinning, utterly delighted as he takes in your Patronus. Calling your name, he exclaims, “That is phenomenal—you’ve learned fast. Very impressive job!”

You smile back, and your Patronus glows lighter in response. You quickly call it off, the light being a bit too much, and the rest of the class passes by in a haze of awed murmurs and classmates asking your advice on their spellwork. You become so preoccupied, you don’t even notice Draco’s unrelenting stare on your back.

The class ends fast, the bell tolling to signify the start of what would be a study period for you. As students trail out of the classroom, chattering happily, Professor Lupin calls you over.

“Listen, I want you to know that what you did today was truly impressive,” he says, seriously. “I assume Harry laid out the groundwork, yes?”

You nod. He smiles. “You and Harry both are very accomplished students, then. But truly—I doubt many Aurors could’ve managed what you did today.”

“Thank you, Professor.” Your words are sincere.

“My pleasure.” Professor Lupin shoots you an apologetic look. “Now, I’m terribly sorry, but I have off-grounds business to attend to—would you mind setting the classroom to rights? I’m afraid I had to push the desks and chairs back for our class, but I don’t have time to put them back. I’ll write you a note, if you—”

“Oh, no, Professor, don’t worry, it’s a study period. I’d be glad to help.”

“Thank you,” he says, relieved, already heading out the door. “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow, then. I’ll bring chocolate to compensate!”

“Goodbye, Professor!” you call, and he echoes it, and then he’s gone. You look around the classroom, seeing all the desks in the back, and you crack your knuckles. Time to get to work.

“Well. Quite the teacher’s pet, aren’t we?”

Merlin’s fucking beard.

“Bloody hell, Malfoy,” you mutter, turning around to find him leaning against the classroom doorframe. His blond hair glints silver in the sunlight, and his entire outline—his uniform, his stance, his dark gaze—is just… honestly, unfairly attractive.

So maybe your first impression of Draco Malfoy, years ago, wasn’t that he was a self-entitled git. Maybe, just maybe, you’d thought he was the prettiest boy you’d ever seen.

And maybe that feeling never went away.

Not that you’d let him know that.

“What are you doing here?”

“Study period.” He starts walking towards you, shutting the door behind him. “Couldn’t help but be curious as to what Lupin wanted with you.”

“What’s it to you?” you snap. Malfoy doesn’t reply.

“Why do you insist on being so difficult?” he asks instead, and you blink.

“Me?” you splutter. “Difficult? Fat lot of sense that makes, with you fucking insulting me at every move I make—”

“As I recall, our first interaction was you hexing me in third-year.” Malfoy sounds amused.

“You pushed Harry into the lake,” you snap at him. “You bloody well deserved it.”

Draco laughs. “Good times.”

“Malfoy, what the bloody hell are you doing here?”

“You’ve got quite a mouth.”

“My mouth is also capable of jinxing you three ways to Friday, so I suggest you leave me alone, yeah?” Your fingers twitch towards your wand in preparation, and he only looks on with derision.

“I’m just frightened,” Malfoy sneers. You barely notice him slipping off his rings, pocketing them. “Potter taught you that Patronus charm, didn’t he?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Nothin’. Just wondering what else he taught you.” A vengeful mood seems to have taken Draco. “You seem to hang out with him an awful lot.”

“It’s called having friends,” you snap right back. He looks as though he’s about to retort, but you push on. “Unfamiliar with the concept? Wouldn’t be surprised. Crabbe and Goyle don’t seem like the best conversationalists, are they? Just a couple of goons. Wonder why you don’t have better friends. Friends you can actually talk to who operate with more than one braincell.”

“Shut—”

“Maybe it’s because no one wants to be near you,” you continue, years of pent up frustration spilling out in a vitriolic spiel. “Because you’re a miserable bastard who doesn’t know how to be happy, aren’t you? You drive everyone away and then you go after more because you’re lonely and sad and fucking pathetic—”

“Shut up,” Malfoy repeats with a vehemence.

“—and it’s too fucking late to repair the damage you’ve done—”

“Shut up,” Malfoy snarls, and you stare into his narrowed eyes.

“Fucking make me,” you snap back, and he lunges.

You’re pinned against the wall of the classroom, Malfoy’s wand to your throat and a hand fisting your robes to render you immobile. Draco flicks his wand, ever-so-slightly, and you hear the classroom door lock with a wordless spell.

“Malfoy,” you whisper, but he cuts you off.

“Shut the fuck up or I swear you’ll bloody regret it,” he hisses.

“Draco,” you begin, and he curses.

“Fuck it.”

Gripping your robes, he leans in and kisses you.

It’s rough and demanding and you think he’s trying to hurt you, with how much his teeth scrape against your bottom lip and bite down gently, but you’re not pulling away, he’s not pulling away, and you find yourself leaning into the kiss, arching up to meet him—

He breaks away and looks at you, smirking.

“If I’d known that’s what it would take for you to shut your bloody mouth, I’d have done it years ago.”

“Let me go, Malfoy,” you say shakily, but even as he loosens his grip slightly, you show no sign of moving.

“If you’d wanted to leave you’d have Stunned me long ago,” he states, truthfully. Your wand is fully in reach. You know how to do wordless spells. And yet you let him kiss you.

“Shut up,” you grumble, still not moving.

“I think, perhaps,” Draco murmurs, glancing down at your body, “you’re enjoying this.”

“No,” you argue, and his wand digs into your neck—not enough to hurt but enough to register.

“Shh,” Draco hushes, almost condescendingly. “Be quiet, now. That’s a good girl.”

Involuntarily, you shudder at his words. They made your legs weak, and you fight off the urge to audibly whimper—what the hell’s gotten into you?

Maybe he won’t notice. Maybe he hasn’t noticed.

Of fucking course he notices.

“Oh?” The shit-eating smirk on his face is enough to make you glare absolute daggers at him. “Don’t give me that. You shivered. You liked it.”

“Shut up,” you say again, with no real strength.

“Don’t you want to be my good girl, sweetheart?” he teases cruelly, and you have to close your eyes to fight off the blush. It doesn’t work, and your face grows hot with embarrassment and arousal.

“Dear me,” Draco says mockingly. “What happened to the spitfire from minutes ago, hm? Still feeling like saying those words to me? Still feeling like being bad?”

Inadvertently, you shake your head.

“Who’s pathetic now?” he mocks, grinning, letting his wand trail a cold path down your neck, over your collarbone, until it rests on the top button of your uniform. “May I?”

The question sounds mocking, but he meets your gaze and you know he’s honestly asking for permission. And you give it to him, nodding, even as your blush deepens. Draco undoes your buttons, one by one, with tiny flicks of his wand, until your shirt is fully unbuttoned and you’re exposed to his gaze.

Draco shoves his wand into his belt and pushes your bra out of the way with an almost laughable urgency, getting a full, appreciative look at your breasts. “So fucking pretty,” he murmurs. “Shame they belong to such a fucking headache, hm?”

You grumble some sort of an insult, and Draco pinches a nipple, which shuts you up effectively. “That’s what I thought.”

His hands trail down to your skirt, and instead of undoing the button he leans down and scoops the fabric up. “Here, be good and useful and hold this for me.”

The indifferent praise and the degradation combined has you obeying immediately, hoisting your skirt up and baring yourself to him, which only adds to an eddying swirl of shame and arousal pooling in your gut. Draco looks at you, stares, really, and it’s with a predatory grin that he reaches over to caress you through your panties.

“Soaked,” he observes, sounding both amused and satisfied. “You always get off this much to being treated like a right slut, then?”

“Draco,” you whine, bucking your hips up into his almost phantom touch. “Come on.”

“Is that how we ask nicely?” Oh, this bloody git. You’ll never be able to look at him again—he’s going to be so fucking smug around you.

When you don’t answer, he withdraws his touch completely, and you make a sound of protest. “No, no, please.”

“Go on.”

“Please touch me,” you try, but it’s hard to focus when you’re so goddamn wet you’re soaking through your panties.

“Not quite,” Draco muses. He’s palming himself through his trousers, and the sight turns you on impossibly more. “Come on, then—convince me.”

“Draco, please touch me,” you beg. One of your hands drift down to your panties but he slaps it away immediately, shooting you a warning look. “Please!”

“Touch you where?” He wants you to say it.

“Touch my cunt, please, Draco, fuck, I’m so wet it hurts,” you beg, and it’s true—you’re aching with arousal, and if he doesn’t touch you within the next few seconds you think you really just might combust. “Please, please touch me, I’ll be good, I’ll do whatever you want, just touch me.”

“If only the school could see you now,” he sneers, but even he seems to break his self-control and he tugs your panties down harshly, all but ripping them off. “Baring yourself to me and begging to be touched like a whore.”

“I’m not—oh,” you gasp, his fingers pressing into your cunt immediately and his thumb working on your clit, sending waves of pleasure so potent you almost double over. His fingers are long and thin, which is why he can press two in without preamble, and the stretch is barely noticeable.

“You’re not what? A whore?” Draco laughs. “Please. Look at yourself.”

“’m not,” you insist, but you clench around his fingers at his words and he raises an eyebrow.

“I think you’re lying.” He presses a third finger in and you whine, little sounds of pleasure escaping your lips as he works you open. “Quieter, now, or I’ll have to gag you.”

You bite your lip, and Draco thumbs your clit as a reward and incentive. “Now, tell me what you are. Be truthful, or I won’t fuck you. I’ll leave, leave you here with your shirt hanging open and your skirt up, the doors wide open. Maybe the next bloke who stumbles in might help you.”

Your eyes widen—he wouldn’t. But his gaze is dead serious. “Say it.”

“I’m a whore,” you breathe, and he thrusts his fingers into you, hitting that right spot. “Draco!”

“Say it louder,” he orders, angling his fingers and curling them.

“I’m a whore,” you moan out, bucking your hips upwards—you’re close, you’re so close. “Draco, I—”

He stops moving, and his other hand pinches your clit harshly. “No.”

You let out a gasp of shock and hurt, reeling from the denial and pleasure. “But—”

“You’re not fucking coming until I say so,” Draco hisses, undoing his belt and pushing his trousers down. “And I’m not saying so until I properly fuck you into a bloody wreck.”

His cock is already hard, and he positions himself right at your entrance. You can feel him, his tip pressed against your wetness, but not pushing in. “Draco—”

“I think,” he muses, and you want to scream, “one day I’ll drag you into a broom closet. Fuck your throat so hard you won’t be able to talk for the day. You’ll look pretty, don’t you think?”

“Please—”

“Or I’ll bring you back to my dorm, so I can fuck you until you’re screaming yourself hoarse,” Draco says thoughtfully. “Your dorm works. So long as I can ruin you.”

“Malfoy—”

“Because it’s just so—” and he pushes into you in one swift movement, fucking into you immediately with a fast and rough rhythm, “—fucking nice to see you being a slut for me.”

“Fuck!” You grind your hips along with his rhythm, feeling the tightness of your cunt around his cock, and you clench as he hits your sweet spot with the right angle, almost shaking with the pleasure that it gives you.

Draco groans your name, fucking you brutally as he chases his own release, already pent-up from the teasing and the sight of your wrecked state. “’m gonna come on your tits, would you like that? Get it all fucking messy, maybe get some into your mouth, get you fucking ruined?”

“Please, please, fuck, please let me come,” you plead him, feeling your impending orgasm barrel towards you—you couldn’t last, you can’t fucking last—

“Fucking hold it,” Draco snaps. “Hold it like a good fucking girl, you understand?”

You let out a mournful sound, but you nod—yes, I’ll be good, I’ll be good, please—

“Salazar, I’m fucking close,” Malfoy breathes into your ear, his voice rough and strained. “You feel so good, love, so bloody tight.”

“Please,” you whimper, not even sure what you’re pleading for at this point. Draco exhales shakily and curses, pulling out and pushing you to your knees with such a force that you drop down, your skirt being the only padding.

“Wh—?” you try to ask, but Draco is already pumping his cock and then he’s coming all over your face, some of it dripping down to paint your breasts as he’d promised. Draco leans down to gather some release on a finger and pushes it into your mouth, eyes darkening as you suck and swallow around it.

“Good girl,” he praises, and you almost come right there.

“Draco, please,” you beg, still on your knees and still absolutely fucking desperate for release that he’s been denying you for the past half hour. “Please let me—”

“Alright, spread your legs, c’mon,” Draco guides, and you obey and then he’s there, thumb rubbing steady circles around your clit and two fingers pushing inside you once more. You whine and grind into his fingers, his touch, hips following his movement as he pushes you closer—closer—

“Fuck!” you sob as he senses your impending orgasm and stills his hand. “No—no, why?”

You sound like a petulant child and Draco laughs at you, and it’s an unfair move and a mean sound but it somehow turns you on even more. “I’m just messing, sweetheart.”

Fuck you, you badly want to say, but somehow you feel like that won’t get you what you want.

Draco starts moving again, his fingers gaining speed, and the sound of them pumping in and out of your soaked cunt sounds delightfully dirty. You’re quickly pushed to the edge again, and amidst your pleasure you eye Draco distrustfully.

“Please,” you whisper, and he smirks at you.

“Well, since you asked so nicely.”

And he thumbs your clit and you’re coming, gasping with the pleasure and shaking as he eases you through it. His fingers don’t stop moving, even after your orgasm has faded, and you squirm in discomfort as he overstimulates you.

“Stop—please—”

“Promise me you won’t be a bloody pain again,” Draco levels at you, and you want to glare back but his fingers curl inside of you and you yelp with pleasure and pain. “Promise me, or I’ll keep going.”

“I—I won’t be a pain,” you mumble, trying to squeeze your thighs together to get rid of his touch, but he perseveres, flicking your clit mercilessly.

“Say you’ll be good.”

“I’ll be good,” you manage, so close to sobbing from the frustration. “Please, Draco, I’ll be good, be good for you, please stop.”

He relents and you feel him draw his hand back. You close your eyes and you hear him tug his trousers back on, buckling his belt. You feel strangely empty without him—without his fingers, his cock, his touch.

Draco produces a handkerchief from his pocket and wipes the sweat, drool, and cum off your face, helping you button your shirt back up as well. “You alright?”

“Never better,” you reply, opening your eyes to see him staring at you in concern, all traces of the cruel tease earlier gone. Outside, the sun is setting, casting orange hues into the classroom, and you suddenly remember. “I—oh, bloody hell, I have to arrange the desks for Lupin—”

“I’ll do it. Stay here.”

Draco stands up and takes out his wand, flicking it twice in quick succession. A wordless spell. As you watch, the desks and chairs slide back to where they used to be, neatly arranging themselves in rows.

You’re impressed as he comes back. “What spell is—hey!”

He’s flicked his wand once more and torn your panties clean off your legs.

“Draco—what in Merlin—”

“A souvenir.” Malfoy smirks, stuffing your soaked panties into the pocket of his trousers. “And payment for the desks.”

“You’re a bloody prick,” you say, leaning your head back against the wall.

“Careful now, love. Remember what you promised.” Draco’s tone is playful, but warning. “I’m a man of my word, so you should choose yours carefully. Next time I won’t be as gentle.”

Caught off-guard, you can only nod obediently, which seems to please him. But you can’t promise you won’t slip back into old habits the very next day. Whatever the case, one thing was clear—there would almost certainly be a next time.

------

Requests & asks are open! Here is the guide on requests, if you'd like to check that out first. Hope you enjoyed!

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy smut #draco x reader #draco x y/n #harry potter #golden era #hp #draco imagine #draco smut #draco malfoy x reader smut #draco x you #draco oneshot

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mishasminions · 3 years

Text

The Last Time I’ll Write a Long Post About Supernatural (15x18-15x20)

15 YEARS OF WATCHING THIS SHOW. 11 YEARS OF RUNNING A BLOG ABOUT IT. IT’S BEEN QUITE A RIDE.

[15x20 Speculation + evidence at the bottom]

First off, I just wanna come clean and say, after all these years, I still think they should’ve ended at Season 5.

If you’re going to come at me with “Then why’d you stick around to watch it if you didn’t like it?”, your question is immature, and the answer is simple: I just want to know what happens next (I also love the main characters and their actors too). You can watch a show and still think it’s shit.

Call me a clown, but despite all the disappointment and trust issues that this show has given me, I would still look forward to the day where it might just turn itself around and bring back the quality it once had, or realize the potential of each story it was trying to tell, or at the very least, do justice by my favorite ship.

Never happened.

They’ve had a few good episodes here and there. I can’t imagine the SPN Universe without The Man Who Would Be King, The French Mistake, and Scoobynatural. Seasons 6-10 were enjoyable at times. I blocked out most of 7 & 11-15.

If you’ve been following this blog since its heydays in 2010-2014, you’d know I’d try my best to defend Destiel and this show’s decisions regarding it no matter what.

Because you know what, as a CONCEPT, this show is good. If you take a look at all the worlds its storylines have birthed in fanfiction/fanworks, you’d see how much Supernatural has wasted its own story arcs. The writing got shittier as each season progressed, and they’ve obviously given up in production as well because the quality in the execution has noticeably gone down too, but if you take a step back and take a look at the bigger picture, you’ll see that this show still tries to make sense of itself.

[If you’re still following this post, please bear with me, I know this is long, but I just want you to understand how jaded and pessimistic I am with regards to this show, so maybe you can buy into whatever hopeful thing I’m about to say later on.]

SO LET’S TALK ABOUT DESTIEL

Never in my wildest dreams did I think that they would give us Castiel’s “I love you” speech. To the point where, if I weren’t so desperate for it, I would argue that it was completely out of character for him to word vomit the way he did (but I’m not gonna diss on that right now because I’ll take what I can get).

I’ve valued every meaningful and obscure exchange that Dean and Cas have had in the earlier seasons, and I was willing to accept their relationship as just that--undefined, without any clear boundaries as to what they really are. And I think that was beautiful on its own.

But now, they’ve chosen to define it.

After they’ve driven every possible wedge between Dean and Castiel in seasons 11-15, to try to explain away their feelings as something they offer to a collective.

Dean can’t mourn and pray for JUST Cas, he has to mourn and pray for EVERYBODY--even Crowley, even some chick he just met, because god forbid he cries about just the guy who has given up everything for him--that would be “too homo”.

They’ve even set Cas on a path to abrupt fatherhood just so he can care about something other than Dean. Make it seem as if Dean wasn’t his purpose through and through.

And after all these years of this stupid show trying to deny it, they choose to acknowledge it at the worst possible circumstance, at a time where they’ve been so far apart, that it seems so foreign for them to suddenly come together.

But here we are. And they’ve chosen to tell us.

Chosen to tell us that everything that Castiel has done leading up to his death, he has done it because he was IN LOVE WITH DEAN WINCHESTER.

Chosen to tell us that the ONE THING THAT WOULD MAKE CAS HAPPY IS DEAN WINCHESTER.

Chosen to tell us that BEING WITH DEAN WINCHESTER is something that CAS WANTS BUT KNOWS HE CAN’T HAVE.

And they’ve also chosen to tell us nothing about how Dean feels.

Sure, finding out your angel made a deal, the stipulations of said deal, his newfound happiness philosophy, his long-winded monologue of why he loves you and why you’re worthy of his love, and to top it all off he tells you that being in love with you is enough to make him happy while he subtly hints that he’s always wanted to be WITH you romantically, was a lot to process in the 5 minutes after you’ve just had an existential crisis.

It’s whatever, right? Let’s culminate 11 years worth of tension and feelings in 5 minutes. Let’s waste the entire episode with cringey expository dialogue, and irrelevant sequences. The whole season was a waste anyway.

You know what Supernatural? FUCK YOU FOR THAT. They deserved better. WE deserve better.

And I would love nothing more than to hurl every possible insult your way,

But for the last time, I’m going to HOPE that you’re finally going to try to make it better for the fans that stuck by you all these years.

No more baiting new viewers, no more placating casual viewers, no more excuses. 15 years. Bring it home for the people who have actually been around.

SO HERE’S HOW I THINK 15x20 IS GONNA GO

There’s two ways this series is gonna end. Horribly or Spectacularly.

First let’s all take into consideration what Andrew Dabb says about it:

So, let’s start with

ENDING HORRIBLY

In this scenario, Misha is telling the truth about his last day of filming being 15x18. His “camping trip” during the last few days of filming 15x20, was actually a camping trip. He doesn’t go to Vancouver to shoot.

Jensen wasn’t “being careful” during the zoom interviews that it was just him and Jared quarantining for the shoot, it really was just him and Jared (althought most of these were done pre 15x19) Supernatural isn’t smart enough to do misleading PR, and they’re once again oblivious to the potential of their own story.

Misha hasn’t posted a “Goodbye Castiel” tweet because he’s probably saving it for last episode or he forgot because it was overshadowed by the Destiel trend that night.

So what we get is:

Sam and Dean are on the road again, up against the monster of the week. Only their world no longer has actual Supernatural beings anymore, so the monsters they’re fighting are humans.

Humans end up killing the Winchesters (despite having gone up against literally every powerful being imaginable INCLUDING God himself). Dean and Sam end up in heaven and relive their greatest hits.

Meanwhile, Castiel rots in The Empty because he died after realizing that he was happy and gay. Jack doesn’t bother rescuing him—his surrogate dad, the guy who made this specific deal to spare him—even though it was so easy for him get Cas in and out of The Empty when he had a fraction of the power that he has now.

Dean never speaks of Castiel’s confession because despite all the hints of a profound bond in the earlier seasons, and the fact that Dean has never cared for anyone (who isn’t his actual brother) as immensely as he does Cas, Supernatural just can’t have its main macho character be “suddenly bisexual” because that would hurt the male ego or some shit.

His heaven would probably be living happily ever after with his family. “Family” meaning Mary and John Winchester--two of the shittiest parents ever (but they’re not going to include them in this episode like they were supposed to because of Covid) and Sam.

Sam also gets a dog. As usual.

I wouldn’t put it past Supernatural to do this. After everything they’ve pulled, this would be right up their alley. I actually expect this ending.

Anyway, onto the next possible ending

ENDING SPECTACULARLY

In this scenario, Supernatural tries to stick the landing, and Jensen’s whole “It didn’t sit well with me at first, but then I took a step back after talking to Kripke, and realized that I had to view it from an audience perspective, I am now really excited about it” (DC Con 2019) anecdote about his thoughts on the final episodes, were actually about Dean potentially ending up with Cas. (Which would totally make sense because Jensen at first didn’t see Dean as anything but hetero, but as of late, he has been throwing in Destiel jokes of his own, so he seems to have warmed up to the idea)

Backed with Misha’s tidbit (DLConline 2020) that he and Jensen had conversations about Destiel, and that they wouldn’t have gone through with it if Jensen wasn’t onboard with it, but Jensen didn’t push back at all. (Why would they need to check with Jensen if it was just Cas going all in?)

Robert Berens (writer of 15x18) also wrote the script at the beginning of Season 15, but made Misha privy to the concept a year prior (Season 14), so they went into this season knowing about Destiel going canon.

This one’s a reach, but this scenario also supposes that Misha was lying about his whereabouts during the filming of the final episode, and him saying that 15x18 was his last episode is part of the diversion to avoid taking away from the weight of Castiel’s death.

And that Supernatural is actually self-aware of its own material (similar to how they have wrapped things up in the past—lots of expository dialogue, poor execution, but fulfills the story arc)

Since Season 15 is basically a Meta Season (Chuck/God as a writer, pretentiously calling out how he created the worlds, its characters, and basically invalidating the past 14 seasons), and 15x19 is supposedly the finale for Season 15, written by two of the worst Supernatural writers, Brad Buckner and Eugenie Ross-Leming (Bob Singer’s wife), then we can assume that 15x19 is where the shitty writers kill themselves--as Chuck, of course.

So we get a badly written episode that produces a bad ending, or as Becky put it, “All action, and no Cas”

So we get the bad writers season ending at 15x19.

And 15x20 is where Sam and Dean write their own stories, and where the cast had a hand in pitching ideas for it.

Dabb has mentioned that 15x20 (Act Two) is a SERIES finale, where they try to resolve the characters’ journeys.

Because as everyone has acknowledged, Supernatural isn’t about the story, it’s about the characters.

So here’s what we can get out of it:

With no more Supernatural beings left to fight, Sam and Dean are in a stalemate. They’ve resigned themselves to fighting to the bitter end, but the “end” has passed, and they’re still standing.

So they try to figure out who they are now, and what they want out of the life they still have.

Sam still wants a normal apple pie life. Before Dean dragged him out of college to go hunting with him, he had a whole life planned out for him. Become a lawyer, settle down with a nice girl, and get a dog. He gave all that up because they had work to do, but now the work is finished, he can finally go back to wanting that for himself again.

Dean finally realizes his self-worth after Cas saves him again. His prayer to Cas in purgatory may have helped him come to terms with his anger, but the whole “you’ve done everything you did for love” speech finally put him in his place, and he learns not to hate himself anymore.

But of course, he cannot fully reconcile with himself if he doesn’t get Cas back, and tell him how he feels.

Because Dean actually wants something for himself this time. Something he knows he can finally have if he can just salvage it.

So maybe this time around, with the help of Jack (off-screen), Dean saves Cas. Grips him tight and raises him from perdition.

They bypass The Empty deal by turning Cas human, and he lives the rest of his days with Dean.

Dean and Cas know they deserve to be saved, and they know that they deserve to be happy.

(Wishful thinking, maybe they kiss a little)

Anyway...

I’m just saying, there’s NO WAY that they’d have Cas go through that whole rushed speech, if they weren’t going to do anything about it later on.

But again, after 10 years of disappointment, I wouldn’t put it past Supernatural to pat themselves on the back and say, “Okay, we sort of gave them what they wanted. We’re good now”

If that’s the case, Supernatural, I’m sorry I wasted my time on you.

Here’s to hoping 🤡

#THE LAST TIME I'LL CLOWN FOR THIS SHOW #SUPERNATURAL #DESTIEL #15x20 #15x19 #15x18 #UNTAGGED #INSIGHTFUL INSIGHTS

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teeterarting · 3 years

Text

here's a list of things i love about PSMD for no reason other than i think it deserves appreciation (spoilers)

the hero gets adopted by a nuzleaf. Hero, a young child that doesn't know why they were brought into this world, attacked by beheeyem, scared and alone, finds someone that takes them under his wing and gives them a home. it's really sweet that once Nuzleaf brings them to the Village, Hero's not alone anymore.

yes it was all a trick, he deceived you. but being betrayed by your father figure hits so much harder. it's much more personal, especially when both Hero and Partner are kids. and when Nuzleaf goes through all that ordeal in the post game, then gets accepted back into the village?? And his little speech to Hero????? it's heartbreaking and incredibly touching at the same time

everything is just so cute!!!! you go to school with your new friendo and you're friends with the schoolkids, and you make the trip to school every morning taking in the scenery, the smell of dew and fresh grass, and the sun on your face... and you take classes about Mystery Dungeon mechanics, and principal Simipour is a big BRO, the school nurse Audino is super kind and helpful... and you get to play with your pokemon friendos in summer vacation, and explore a dungeon with 'em... AND your bond with your Partner begins to form, getting stronger and stronger from then on. PSMD's beginning arc is so warm and pleasant, it's like reliving childhood memories all over again, when things were happier and you didn't have to worry about how cruel the world is. this story section's one purpose is to get the player used to the game's mechanics, as well as foreshadowing. unfortunately most of the school kids get forgotten later on, but I still love this part for everything it is, even if unintentional.

it's not just the beginning that's cute. PSMD'S ENTIRE WORLD IS ADORABLE. It's just filled with life every town you go. there are a bunch of pokemon locals and they all have interesting things to say, in the main story and the post-game. there's a point where their comments get repetitive, but that's bound to happen in any PMD game. Even then, the days are never the same. one morning you wake up and the Lively Town locals are exercising, then the next they're having singing lessons, and then they're practicing martial arts. and you get to connect with (or recruit) some of them just by.... chatting!!! Sitting next to that big ol' venusaur and sharing stories, laughing and having fun. it's good stuff.

Sometimes you find travelling pokemon in dungeons and it's jsut the coolest thing. Imagine you're exploring a dungeon, then your Connection Orb notifies you there's a fellow explorer in the floor. First thing you do is try to find them, and when you do - oh dang a travelling Archeops!!!! And then they just,,,, exchange their experiences and thoughts on exploration and how hard it is to fend off those enemies and the cool treasure they found the other day (the game calls it "[Team Name] and [Traveller pokemon] compared notes"). then the traveller heals you, fills your belly and restores your PP. and they go on their way. idk man it's such a cute interaction. explorers chatting, empathizing and helping each other, bc their job is not an easy one...

PSMD Partner is the most developed Partner in any PMD game yet. They start off as this naive, hyperactive kiddo, then stuff happens, and worse stuff happens, and you get to see how they grow and change and by the end they're a different person than they were before (in more than one way ...). It's just so nice to be by their side, from the beginning to the bitter end, and watch their growth. in contrast, Hero is a little unbalanced in that their backstory is not explored as much, and their personality is kind of a blank - probs meant to be vague so the player can be in their shoes. to me this just gives you the opportunity to shape their character however you want, so you can have tons of different hero/pardner dynamics.

The music is rlly flippin' good. Some of the tracks are recycled from previous entries, but when they go original??? it's a blast!!! "Echoes of the Mystical Forest" is one of my favorites in all four entries, it has no right being so amazing for a random dungeon. "Time to Set Out" makes me cry immediately (also i think it would be a better fit for the parting ways scene at the end...). Don't even get me started on "Second Dark Matter Battle", it has everything an epic climax needs and MORE. the Partner remix????? absolute genius

speaking of which, Dark Matter ITSELF,, is freaking amazing. Its actions were foreshadowed in the very beginning, though they were not blatant through the game. i do think they could have done a better job at showing the pokemon's negativity raising in the world, as well as negative feelings in the characters... but it's not like Gates did a good job at it, either (outside of cutscenes, all the locals in Post Town are incredibly nice to you and fights didn't "break out often". it's like the game tells you the world is a dark place, but what it shows in gameplay doesn't add up). so i'll cut them some slack. Still, I find Dark Matter a more compelling villain than the Bittercold for several reasons. it is sentient. its speech is a jumbled amount of voices all talking at the same time - the anguished voices of the world. It actually concocted a plan to hurl the planet into the Sun, using pawns like Nuzleaf and Yveltal to do its dirty job. in the Voidlands, Hero and Partner discover its past, and how it'll come back after defeat, like a cycle. when Partner accepts Dark Matter, they accept negative feelings as something everyone has within themselves. Most of all, the fact that Dark Matter is a manifestation of negative feelings doesn't make it just a generic threat, a final obstacle to be defeated so the world can be saved. It makes Dark Matter - negativity itself - a natural part of the world, the yin to its yang. and that's why I LOVE IT SO MUCH DANG IT EVEN THANKS PARTNER FOR THEIR ACCEPTANCE

The fact that Dark Matter can possess pokemon that have "even the smallest amount of darkness in their hearts". it makes me think of Mr. Nuzleaf and what he might have gone through in the past to make him so easy to be controlled. Did he hold a grudge against someone?? Did he commit a crime?? Had Nuzleaf always been malicious???? And if so, is this why he shows so much remorse in the post-game??????? because he had always been this vile fiend and then he met this small kid and got attached, but still carried on with his evil actions because his malice was still stronger than the positive feelings and Dark Matter's hold on him intensified?????? I don't know!!!! and as much as i wish the game could have given us that sweet mr. Nuzleaf backstory, it's pretty fun to have freedom to come up with your own version.

Everything about Super's climax is just phenomenal. Every single flippin' legendary is there to help you. Arceus is in the game. MEWTWO IS THERE. and when things are looking hopeless, they really seem hopeless. First the Tree of Life is dying, then your allies get turned into stone and sent to hell The Voidlands, Arceus gets turned into stone, the entire world is stone (except for several mon' that are still safe and holding onto hope, but they're so few). Your Harmony Scarves stop working and you and your Partner are back to your feeble, basic stage forms. You are bordering exhaustion, you have no Emeras, it's just you and your Partner against an eldritch abomination that's killing the life on the entire planet like a parasite, devouring all hope. but you still fight back. Given how adults in the game always discourage the village children from going adventuring, that they cannot do this or that because they're so little and fragile, it's awesome how Hero and Partner beat Dark Matter as tiny kids.

PSMD is not a flawless game. in fact there's plenty of things that hold it back and i even mentioned some... but it's still full of love put into it and it resonates w me more than PMD Explorers of T/D/S and Gates to Infinity (Rescue Team is a close second). its my all-time favorite PMD game.

#pmd #pokemon mystery dungeon #psmd #pokemon super mystery dungeon #Teeter rambles #long post

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vyeoh · 3 years

Note

this is your chance: wax poetic about an Empires or DSMP character of your choice to a fan who is new to both. Explain why I should love them. I need guidance in this new and meme-populated land.

okok this is a lot of pressure haha. Spoilers for EmpiresSMP and DreamSMP below, obviously. I wrote a lot so prepare yourself, anon

I watch a lot of empires POVs but the ones I most anticipate every week are Scott and Sausage.

c!Scott (I'll call him Smajor for the sake of simplicity) starts off the series chilling, not really getting involved with the rest of the server, and staying aggressively neutral. After all, he's an elf. He has lived far longer than most of the other rulers already, and will most likely outlive them for many years. So, the best thing is to stick to his mountains and not get invested in the dealings of mortal affairs, maybe sometimes causing problems on purpose and dipping because what's life without a little spice right.

But then, this demon comes to the server, Xornoth. He's going around causing havoc and wants to send the world into an eternal winter, but he doesn't bother the kingdom of Rivendell much so Smajor stays tentatively cautious but ultimately unbothered. But then, the puzzle pieces start falling together. The first thing that the audience noticed was was Xornoth sounded like Smajor, but we mostly thought that this was just due to cc!Scott voicing both of them and there was nothing more to it. However, then, the people the demon starts possessing start chanting in elvish. The demon hates mortals, and the elves are conveniently one of the two confirmed not fully mortal races in Empires.

This culminates when Smajor stumbles across a cave that contains the backstory of the patron god of Rivendell, Aeor. Basically, there's two opposing forces, Aeor and Exor, and both have a champion. In a previous life, those champions were two brothers, where Aeor eventually prevailed and banished Exor. In this life though, the champions are - you guessed it - Smajor, and the demon Xornoth.

So now Smajor is like. Well fuck. It's my literal god-given destiny to be responsible for defeating this demon who is technically my brother, and if I fail the server gets plunged into an eternal winter. And I have no fucking clue what is happening because I've just been here on this mountain actively trying to stay out of the issues outside my kingdom. We watch him panic and teeter on the verge of spiraling for an entire episode, and when the followers of Xornoth go to the End to kill the dragon, releasing Xornoth's full powers, he fails to stop him. Smajor is a character who was used to being the smart one, the prepared one, the one who has the least deaths on the server. But he's also a character who runs away from his problems and ignores them. Before and during the dragon fight, we hear the desperation in his voice, as he's thrown into a situation he is wholly unprepared for, and it's bigger than him going to the Cod Empire to kill their king, or assisting in other people's plans to kill the codfather. He can't run from this. cc!Scott plays this scene so well as well, as I've said before, one of the best parts of Scott's acting is how he's never super dramatic, but he's so effective in the little things like inflection to make you feel, viscerally, the panic and dread.

So after the dragon fight, Smajor realizes, I can't do this on my own. I've tried and failed. So he gets allies. We watch him, someone who has so strongly been an isolationist, learn the benefits of allies and watch him learn to trust others and watch him learn how to get that trust in return.

My favorite thing about Smajor's characterization is that he's an incompetent protagonist, but not in the way of the "plucky young adventurer". He's capable skill-wise, and fairly jaded and very pessimistic. However, his issue is that up until recently, he did not care about the rest of the server at all, and by the time he learned to, it was way too late.

Also, in 3rd Life, cc!Scott and cc!Jimmy were canonically married and they reference it sometimes in Empires. Like, Scott goes over to the Cod Empire every so often both in and out of character to kill and/or flirt with Jimmy, the ruler of the Cod Empire, which may develop as a secondary plot into the future who knows. So ty Scott for giving the gays what they want o7

Now onto Sausage: his is a story of Icarus, his hubris and ambition being his downfall. He's one of the two followers of Xornoth, who promised him endless power in exchange for his servitude. He started the series being eccentric, but not outright unhinged, but slowly gets more and more extreme as the series progresses, as he gets brought more and more to Xornoth's side.

One of the best parts of Sausage's character, in my opinion, is how his gradual corruption affects the people around him. Initially, he got into a conflict with the Cod Empire and was allied with two other people in the Witherrose alliance. They were allies, but also close friends. The fandom liked to joke that the three had sibling energy, and I'm pretty sure the ccs played to that even more lol.

It was painful to watch the other two members, Gem and fWhip, watch Sausage get corrupted right in front of them, and see them desperately clinging on to this old idea of Sausage in their head because if they faced the truth, it would mean that their friend was gone. Eventually, they do finally cut him out of the alliance, leading him to fully commit to the side of the demon. Sausage felt very clearly betrayed by this, and declared the remaining two Witherrose alliance members to be enemies.

He gets more and more possessed, and we even see the other Empires, his enemies even, slowly realize that something is very wrong with the ruler of Mythland. He starts doing more and more evil things, like killing people more, making sacrifices to the demon, and eventually helping to kill the dragon to free Xornoth. So things are good for Sausage, for a bit. He won, and is more powerful than ever. Then he finds out: he's going to die. Xornoth's possession is slowly killing his soul, and eventually, his body going to be fully taken over and he himself is going to be trapped in the spirit realm. So how do you react to this? Over the next few episodes, we watch Sausage struggle between "the demon is literally killing me" and "the demon has given me so much, and I love it", all while Xornoth takes over more and more of him. We hear him exclaim that "don't worry!! I'm still about 15% there!" while trying to downplay every time Xornoth completely takes over his body. We watch him willingly oppose anyone who is trying to end the thing that is killing him.

My favorite thing about Sausage is that he is undoubtedly evil and proud of it, but he's also undoubtedly human. If you like to watch evil characters go absolutely feral, he's the guy for you. He makes the deal with Xornoth in the beginning, knowing and fully embracing the evilness of the demon, but at the same time he knows what he's doing is detrimental to both himself and everyone around him, but he's gotten in way too deep at this point, and to be fair the demon has held up its end fo the bargain, right?

Also, I would be damned if I don't talk about cc!Sausage's editing. Every one of his videos is like a movie. The way he does camera angles and uses music is so skillful- every lore scene feels like something out of a high fantasy action saga (think: LotR). Every big lore event I always wait in anticipation for Sausage's ep because his editing truly takes lore to another level.

I'm just generally very excited to see where this series goes. Empires is such a good mix of talented builders and good lore. Part of the reason why the series is so immersive for me, beyond any other lore smp, is that they have the settings to back it up. There is a certain charm to the DreamSMP's objectively terrible builds (with a few exceptions) but in Empires, the settings help sell the plot so much.

Another part of why I love EmpiresSMP is how much the ccs are involved with the fan community. I'm sure you've seen the memes about Scott being on tumblr, and Sausage regularly goes through the EmpiresSMP fanart tag on Twitter and likes art, even ones not related to Mythland. Most of the ccs, in fact, have brought up tumblr content on stream at some point or another. Like, several ccs have said that they read tumblr lore theories and hcs and stuff and sometimes take inspiration from them. Fun fact: Rivendell's church was inspired by my pinned drawing; confirmed by Scott Smajor himself. It's just such a good cycle of ccs and fans being excited about each other.

As for DreamSMP, I'm gonna be honest here, the only person I really am invested in in Technoblade. I started watching when he joined the server, and he's the only person whose lore I keep up to date with.

Techno's fun to watch because he's like the Deadpool of DreamSMP. Virtually unkillable, very skilled and scary, but consistently cracks jokes and breaks the 4th wall during plot. His POV is just fun. Like, he does wild plans and gives speeches and some of the stuff that happens to him should be called deus ex machine if it wasn't for the fact that Technoblade is the one who's doing it, and all the stuff is grounded in the fact that cc!Techno is just that good at the game.

However, the fact that he rarely takes anything seriously makes the few times Techno is 100% serious so much more impactful. His whole character has a basis in being perceived as inhuman and being treated as such, and therefore in return trying to hide his humanity. So, when he shows that humanity, whether that's fear, anger, or genuine love for his friends, it really makes you go "oh shit."

Techno's often said not to have character development, but I'd argue that while he remains steadfast in his moral code, he develops leaps and bounds as a person. Like, at the beginning, he's brought onto the server to help Wilbur and Tommy overthrow a government; them knowing he's 1) an anarchist and 2) very very powerful. His character was more of a plot device at that point and was treated as such in the canon. Wilbur and Tommy straight-up lie to him about their plans to establish another government after they overthrow the current one, while he was led on to believe that they were abolishing all governments in the area. But he isn't a plot device. He's a person, as much as he only shows the terrifying, blood god side of himself.

After the establishment of New Lmanburg (the new government its a long story), his friend Phil joins. And for the first time, we see him be fully human with someone and we see someone treat him like a human. Like, we saw glimpses before, with Wilbur and Tommy in Pogtopia, but Phil is the first person we noticeably see he trusts 100%. Then Doomsday happens, and Techno essentially retires to the tundra. During this time, we see Techno learn to be more human, first with Ranboo, then Niki when he establishes the Syndicate. In fact, the two of them, along with Phil, canonically throw him a birthday party, which is a far cry from his treatment in Pogtopia.

Techno's development is one of a god learning to be human, and I just think he <3

#vio.ask #empiressmp #empires smp #dreamsmp #scott smajor #smajor #smajor1995 #mythicalsausage #mythical sausage #technoblade #to be clear i am not an apologist for any character #i fully realize that they are doing wrong and I like to watch it happen #minecraft roleplay got be in full character analysis mode #long post

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thevindicativevordan · 3 years

Text

On Livewire

You know Leslie is probably the most popular and well known female Superman Rogue mainly because they use her so heavily in outside media.

Which makes sense given her debut in Superman: The Animated Series, but it still kind of fascinates me. They didn't bring her into comics continuity until 2006 apparently, with Gail Simone and John Byrne (Byrne of all the creators!) being the ones to finally fold her in. Even after they brought her in, they still have never given her that much attention or focus which is a disappointment for me frankly, because Livewire is honestly fantastic in Scott McCloud and later Mark Millar's Superman Adventures runs, and I would say with complete sincerity that those two are probably her best writers. "Millar writing a female character well?" you scoff at in disbelief. I know, I was shocked too! But she's funny, clever, and a huge pain in the ass for Supes. Reading how she was used there, and rewatching her STAS incarnation recently, really made a big realization for the character hit me like a lightning bolt (couldn't resist):

She's basically an evil superpowered Lois Lane! I know I can't have been the first one to realize that, although I haven't seen anyone else actually outright state it anywhere, but c'mon it's so obvious! She's a reporter of a sorts as well thanks to being a disc jockey, her debut in STAS even has her interviewing Lois and Clark! She's got strong opinions on Superman that conflict with the general opinion about him (Lois being pro-Superman when everyone else is more hostile towards him at first, Livewire being anti-Superman when everyone else has embraced him as their hero). She's rude and abrasive, and doesn't care if her opinions offend people, which sure does remind me of Lois at her meanest.

Livewire to me is an examination of what Lois would be like if she abandoned her morals or never really had them in the first place. Leslie doesn't care about the "truth" which is the big difference between her and Lois. Lois can be headstrong, willful, and outright rude, but it's all in service of her pursuit of higher ideals. Livewire doesn't care about that, she carries about getting people to pay attention to her, and getting the recognition and wealth she believes she's owed.

What I'd Do With Livewire

It wasn't until I had that big realization about Leslie that I figured out what role she should play with regards to Clark: She should be Clark's old college ex who was the one who got him into journalism in the first place.

Clark's college years are unexplored territory narratively, typically we jump from his childhood in Smallville right into his debut in Metropolis. Now I know Clark dated Lori that mermaid back in Pre-Crisis during his college years, and while that's a fun bit of trivia, it doesn't really add anything meaningful in the same way that I think Leslie and Clark dating could. So I'd rather go with Leslie because I think she makes for a better foil for Clark and because the two of them would benefit from having a deeper connection established, plus Leslie could get fleshed out as a character more.

I like the explanation that Clark chose journalism in part because it challenges him in ways his powers can't, but in the comics they've rarely bothered to explain how he chose that field in the first place. I would have meeting Leslie at college be that big moment where he starts to figure himself out. She's assertive and confident, and Clark is attracted to that for similar reasons he's attracted to Lois. Leslie would start out as an optimist and idealist in the same way Clark is, and the two would bond and go into journalism together, with Leslie being the one who really believes in the field initially. They'd both be big believers in the duty of the press to inform and the presses ability to shape public opinion, with Clark attracted to investigative journalism and Leslie attracted more to broadcast and digital journalism. They start to date and for a moment, Clark seriously wonders if this is the one.

The big break between them comes when Clark and Leslie go on a trip around the world during their senior year of college. That trip would be where both of them learn how crappy the world is. Clark always had some idea of how bad things were because of his powers, but the trip is where he really starts to realize that there is a real need for someone of his powers to step up, and that there are hard limits to just how much he can accomplish as a member of the press. That same realization is what shatters Leslie's idealism and optimism. She loses faith in the ability to make a difference, to punch through the wall of public indifference, and as a result she gives up that dream. Instead she decides that if you can't beat them, join them: she switches instead to telling the masses what the powers that be want them to hear in exchange for money, to saying whatever the masses will give her attention and prestige for, embracing tabloid journalism that prioritizes clicks and engagement over information. Ultimately it destroys the relationship between Leslie and Clark with her viewing him as a sap and him viewing her as a sellout.

I think that origin really would help flesh out her worldview and motivation a lot more. She's a former idealist who has been broken by the world in a similar way to Poison Ivy. Leslie thus acts as a foil to Clark and Lois in that she's someone who let the world rob her of her idealism and sold out on the truth in exchange for material success. She's what Clark or Lois could've been if they took Lex's offer to work for him, and they should recognize that to some degree. Clark should have conflicting feelings for her, not romantically that relationship is dead, but in terms of sometimes he wonders if he's just wasting his life trying to fight for truth and justice. So few people seem to care about those principles, why hold on so tight to them? Why not just look out for his own self-interest the way everyone else seems to? It's the refusal to give up even when it looks pointless that makes the two of them different, and makes Clark a hero and Livewire a villain.

How I'd Like Livewire To Operate

There's a lack of imagination in how Livewire is used on the comic side as I see it.

Like most Superman Rogues the typical Superman writer doesn't seem to have a clue what to do with her beyond generic "villain" stuff, but that does a disservice to what Livewire brings to the table. Livewire does want to fry Superman to a crisp, but that's not what her daily goal is to accomplish. More importantly, she wants respect and she wants money, and the way she gets both is not by trying to rob banks, it's by leaning into her background as a media personality combined with her new powers. Unleashing electric bolts is honestly the least impressive part of her powerset in terms of her ability to manipulate anything and everything technology.

The Internet? Livewire can crash the entire thing with ease, or restrict access to portions of it. She can do the reverse and smash through firewalls and encryption like it's made of paper. Imagine Livewire shutting off the power grid or causing it to explode, secretly using your "smart" tech to record your every move, uploading ransomware to every piece of technology in Metropolis, emptying the bank accounts of anyone who annoys her, or bringing Metropolis to it's knees thanks to the "City of Tomorrow" being a test ground for the Internet of Things, so everything is connected and thus easily manipulated. Smart cars crash into each other, elevators randomly drop, trains are unable to stop and simply accelerate onward unceasingly, plans attempting to land find their instruments on the fritz, anything and everything is Livewire's to control. But terrorism, while entertaining and occasionally profitable, isn't Livewire's main focus either.

One of my favorite Superman Adventures stories with her had Livewire manipulating TV broadcast signals so that any time there was a male news reporter on screen, the signal wouldn't come through. Stuff like that, where Livewire is making life hell for people in a way that isn't immediately life-threatening is what I envision as her day to day operations, but her bread and butter is fake news. What Livewire is REALLY good at doing is manipulating the public due to her journalism background plus her powers. She can make fake videos that look totally authentic, fake articles that seem to come from credible sources, fake voice recordings, she can make anyone appear to do or say anything through the Internet, and then she can upload that to the devices of every single person in Metropolis.

You can get stories about the mayor being framed for taking bribes, local activists cast as grifters, and supposed upstanding citizens such as Lois Lane and Clark Kent appearing to take orders from criminals like Intergang on what stories to run. Basically you lean into the journalism aspect for Livewire stories where Clark and Lois have to investigate to see whether what Livewire is putting out there is fake or legit, with peoples lives and reputations at stake (including frequently their own).

And when Superman and Livewire actually do clash physically? I don't care how it gets justified, Livewire simply being that powerful, her lightning being "special", she has the ability to manipulate Superman's bioelectric field, whatever: she can hurt him. When she hits Supes with lightning, it burns. It's painful as all hell. Livewire needs to be a threat and I'd like her to be treated as a powerhouse since I don't see a reason why that shouldn't be the case. Livewire is a really cool Rogue, there's a reason she's managed to keep getting used long after the DCAU ended. I hope the comics creators start utilizing her to her full potential.

#superman #livewire #lois lane #dc comics

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captnjacksparrow · 3 years

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if you had to rank your fav naruto characters how would it go? love your blog btw!!

Hmmm... Complicated ask, anon.😂

[My personal life would be splashed here and there. Please bear with me]

Before 5 months, if you asked me about Naruto, my response would be ‘What the fuck is that?’. I absolutely had no idea such a treasure existed. For me, it started out like a blockbuster movie for the sheer variety of fights and the resulting emotions it brought within me.

However, there was a point I stopped and thought, ‘Wait a fucking second. This resembles my family dynamics. This person is speaking the exact same lines I spoke to my parents few years ago. This person’s situation resembles mine. Did this creator a time traveler?’. Naruto is the only piece of media that gave me such feel. Am not even exaggerating, believe me.

I really liked so many characters very much but am going to try my best to list just 10.

The only characters I hate in this series are Danzo, Sakura and Hinata in no particular order. Meaning, I absolutely cannot see any positives in them. They are crassy, cringey and completely detestable.

FAVOURITE NARUTO CHARACTERS

10. Killer Bee

HaHaHa :-) Just seeing this character makes me smile and light-hearted.

It’s a pity that he is the only character who don’t belong to Konoha in my Top 10 rankings who was developed well apart from Gaara.

I loved him from Frame 1 onwards and I sincerely wished Team Taka should be packed up with their ass beaten up mercilessly. And that’s what happened.

Despite being a Jinchurikki, he never bothered to mind his surroundings and filled his heart with love from his over protective Brother alone was nice to watch.

He makes a great Tag Partner with Naruto next to Sasuke. No doubt.

The way Killer Bee treated Team Taka like some annoying flies and his cool and don’t care attitude was top notch. It’s not just with Sasuke, Bee treated Naruto with the same IDGAF attitude at first.

Best Moments:

Lariat punch to Sasuke (TBH, Sasuke deserved it. LOL)

Blasted off every member of Team Taka like a doll

His entire conversation and fight sequence with Kisame (Their banters and exchanges are way too hilarious)

His dynamics with his Elder Brother (God!!!! Whenever Raikage gives him an Iron Claw.... What a hilarious duo!!!!)

9. Hatake Kakashi

Kakashi was my most favourite character when I started the series for simply being ultra-cool with the way he conducted the Bell-Test and taught a valuable lesson for those bratty kids in Team 7 called ‘Team Work’.

Best Moments:

Kakashi vs Obito Hand-to-Hand Combat (the best in the series)

Kakashi in the Gaara retrieval arc (His fight with Itachi & Deidara gave a good start to the shippuden series. His Mangekyou reveal was surprising).

Kakashi & Guy teaming up with Naruto to reveal Obito in a twisty and tragic way. (Kakashi couldn’t handle the truth at all and neither did I)

Kakashi vs Zabuza (That’s when I realized that the series was getting real serious)

8. Jiraiya

Jiraiya was my next favourite to Kakashi during my Part 1 days. His open perversion and his entire dynamics with Naruto was one of the best things during the Chunin Exams arc. Taught Naruto about Chakra Control and about the way of a shinobi by just enduring. Naruto follows this even today.

Best Moments:

Kuchiyose No Jutsu training (Man, I never expected him to push Naruto off the cliff)

Rasengan Training (One of the best arcs in part 1 and it was soo satisfying to see Naruto punching his first Rasengan on Kabuto, He also acted like a quasi parent to Naruto... heartwarming)

Jiraiya Vs Six paths of Pain ( 6 vs 1 was always doomed but still he had the guts of a shinobi and plunged ahead)

7. Uchiha Madara

Geez. What is there to not like him??

Everything he did was absolutely wrong ever since he broke up with Hashirama in a romantic way much similar to how couples break up in my country.

I am an Uchiha. You are a Senju. I wish it had been different.

This roughly translates to how 75% of lovers break up and marry someone else from their own clan in my state. (Duh!!!)

I am from XXX clan, you are from XXX clan. So we can’t love each other and my parents won’t accept this relationship. So let’s break up.

Alright, my first shipping couple in this series is HashiMada for this exact reason. (I started shipping SNS only after episode 478).

Just like Hashirama, Madara had an extensive build up right from episode 1 where Kurama compares Sasuke with Madara. And flashbacks from Itachi and Tobi spiked my curiosity and I wanted to see his face so badly ever since.

But the moment he landed gracefully like a diva in episode 321.... Woaahhhh!!!! He literally danced in the battlefield and ate up 100′s of guys with just a fucking Sharingan.

Best Moments:

Going Shirtless before 1000′s of people with Hashirama’s face, no less (Well, I literally went heart-eyed for 5 minutes. Sorry Sasuke, your ancester was way much sexier than you in the Orochimaru hideout and beats you by a million points).

Screaming Hashirama’s name like a cockatoo for 300 times even till the very end (Sorry Naruto, your obsession towards Sasuke for about 6 arcs is pale in comparison to Madara’s obsession which was established in just 6 or 7 episodes.)

I have 25 clones now. Do you want me to put Susanoo or not? You can’t answer. The answer is yes. (Man, his I don’t give a fuck attitude is just an alien level thing)

Openly admitting Only Hashirama Can Beat Me (Say what you will about Sasuke, Madara has no qualms about accepting his inferiority in terms of power. An absolute Straight Forward diva-queen)

Awakening Sharingan for breaking up with his ‘friend’ rather than for his 3 dead brothers. (Geez, Poor Soul. He is the forefather of a Romantic Uchiha. That romantic blood still flows in Sasuke)

6. Senju Hashirama

Man, I would have placed him somewhere in top 5 if only he was introduced early or had more scenes. I started watching Naruto only because of this very name. There is a local podcaster in my state who goes under the alias of Senju Hashirama and in his podcasts, he hinted about this character and how he was inspired by his ideals. I just googled and saw that this character belonged to Naruto series and I considered watching it. Here I am, making analysis on that very series.

There was this excellent build up for him right when we got introduced to Captain Yamato. He was constantly referred in flashbacks from Itachi and Tobi especially.

But the moment he was reanimated again..... Geez..... It was an hilarious ride all throughout. Out of all the flashbacks we got from this series, Founders Era flashback was my absolute favourite.

From where I come from, we are still under the stupid influence of Clan infrastructure and are not growing up in many aspects like people in western countries do. For me, I hope, one day, someone like Senju Hashirama appears in our state and change our lives for better by uniting all clans as one and treats everyone equally without the shitty favouritism for their own children, friends, parents, siblings.

That’s why this dialogue struck a thunder in my heart

“Be they a friend.... Be they a sibling.... Be it even my own child. I will not forgive anyone who threatens the village.”

Because the clan leaders in our place are absolutely selfish, trash bastards who serves their own needs with no regards for other people from other clans. For a person like me, Hashirama is not just a fictional hero, he is someone who many aspires to become. No wonder that podcaster chose this name as his alias.

He rightfully deserved the title ‘God of Shinobi’. And no one can surpass him, not even Naruto.

Best Moments:

Wood Style vs Eternal Mangekyou sharingan + Kurama powered Madara (He just beats Madara’s ass by a wide margin. This shows he was a whole fucking different level than Naruto + Sasuke combined. In terms of strength, nobody surpassed him YET. Sorry Naruto and Sasuke, you guys are no match even now with your Rinnegan and Kurama lost forever).

His entire banters with Madara (ROFLLLL. Without him, it would have been just another lifeless arc.)

5. Senju Tobirama

Hmmm, let me tell you something about him.

First off, he is not a racist or fascist as many hardcore Sasuke fanatics claims. He is one of the best hokages according to me. He is abso-fucking-lutely practical, rational, logical and holds no grudge. And Sasuke resembles Tobirama with all these characteristics as compared to soft and naive Naruto. If only he had more screen time, he would be easily in my top 3.

Just because he didn’t lick the boots of Uchiha (many people’s favorite clan or may I say the only clan that was given any shit about in this series), it doesn’t make him a racist or fascist.

No, he never persecuted the Uchihas. Danzo, the crass bastard, driven off the Uchihas only after the Kyuubi incident. It was explicitly mentioned in the databook and was clearly explained in the series.

He literally gave the highest position in the village for the entire clan. That is, a military power inside a military village. ‘Shinobi who can cause crimes can only be stopped by shinobi who are even better’. In my state, if a powerful clan decided to persecute another clan, they simply start by cutting off basic amenities like Water and Electricity. Compared to what I’ve seen, Tobirama did nothing but given the Uchihas, the highest position in their village.

Orochimaru only said giving such a power made them conceited (arrogant). Tobirama had a trusted subordinate called Kagami, an Uchiha in his team. He suggested Kabuto to help Sasuke and even teleported him on his request. He even spited Madara for killing Sasuke, an Uchiha. He openly claimed Uchiha clan exceeds Senju in terms of Love. He openly appreciated Itachi and Kagami as someone who sees beyond their clan. In what world, would a racist or fascist do all this for a clan he hates???

Yes, he was cautious of Sasuke at first because he saw him with Orochimaru and even went full-on battle mode because of Sasuke’s carefree threat to destroy the village. But once he decided to go to the battlefield to fight Madara, he simply forgot everything that happened before and started to work with him as a comrade, and even helped him twice. In which world, a racist or fascist behave this way?

Believe me, a person like me who was grown with these clan politics surely can say who is a fascist. He was not. He was just cautious of them because of their ability to attain superpowers with just emotions alone. Let me ask you all this, ‘Would you be okay with people getting crazy powers whenever they are depressed?’. Being cautious is not racism. It really disrespects people who faced real oppression under fascism.

What Madara and Danzo did was a classical example of fascism.

And No, Izuna didn’t die only because of Tobirama. He died because Madara was too arrogant to instigate war with Senju clan. And this was way before forming Konoha. If Tobirama killed Izuna after the alliance between Uchiha and Senju, I would agree that he was a racist. Izuna lost his life just like any other Uchiha and Senju soldiers in that battlefield.

Just because he shitted your beloved ‘Sasuke-Kun’ doesn’t mean he is a racist too. Tobirama saw Sasuke along with that scoundrel Orochimaru who once used this very two hokages to destroy the very village they strived hard to create and protect. What will you do, if you were in his place?? Please don’t lie and say ‘I wouldn’t be judgemental’.

And Imagine you are Tobirama, Sasuke is threatening to commit genocide against the entire village who had no idea about this coup detat instead of going against those old hags. Will you sit quiet as a Hokage??

He was the first person to suggest his brother, Itama, that Revenge against Uchihas are futile. All we need is an agreement to make truce. That gave the idea for Hashirama to pursue his dream. And Tobirama was happy to follow that dream and very supportive.

It’s because of all these reasons I placed him above Senju Hashirama.

Best Moments:

Amazing power display against Sasuke & Co with just an index finger (It was a pleasure to see everyone’s face trembling with mild sweat including Sasuke).

Acted as a decoy to save his young subordinates. (The way he sacrificed his life saying young wills of fire must be protected is just Woow!! I wish his subordinates listened to his words and passed the mantle to the younger ones rather than playing game at such an old age and screwed up many lives. Pfft!!!)

Any time he says ‘Shut Up’ to Hashirama (ROFL)

His absolute ‘I don’t give a fuck’ attitude to Naruto, Sasuke, Hashirama, Minato and Madara (He trolled them all mercilessly and I love it)

4. Senju Tsunade

It hurts me to say that Tsunade is the only female character in my list because every other female characters were written in a much more piss poorly way. Only Konan came close to Tsunade but her role was very short.

Despite her character’s purpose revolved around another male character (Dan) and a blatant objectification of her breasts, I liked everything about her other than those mentioned above.

She is the Second Best Hokage who took Konoha right after the destruction made by Orochimaru, excellently handled the aftermath by making friendly relations with Suna (Sand village), provided her best medical support to Konoha in the Pain Arc and successfully handled the fourth Shinobi world war.

She is such a badass who developed her own original jutsu called Byakugou no Jutsu, which can heal herself.

She is just way too amazing and it’s a pity that we got very less scenes in Shippuden.

Best Moments:

Took 25+ stabs from Madara’s Susanoo like a piece of cake (Man, I simply couldn’t describe that scene. All the other Kages were shocked and even Madara too)

Lifted her advisors like a cabbage sack (Those fucking old hags deserved it. Those shits should’ve died)

Her index finger flick assault on Naruto (Aww, Naruto was definitely bratty in his first meeting and Tsunade didn’t hold back at all)

Played Orochimaru like a basketball (In that same arc, she fought Orochimaru mercilessly like a devil left and right. Someone who claimed to have surpassed Tsunade never even dared to fight Orochimaru’s student and crying for his attention after just receiving one stab from Madara. Just saying)

3. Uzumaki Naruto

Naruto is the titular character and your emotions evolve along with him. He surely deserves a spot in Top 3. The only reason I didn’t place Naruto even more higher is because he didn’t experience something very important which many characters in this list faced. That is, Losing a loved one before his eyes. Every villain in this series became what they are because they lost someone important before their eyes like Nagato, Obito. (Nope, I don’t count Neji as his loved one). I think this tests the mettle of any character and Naruto failed to experience this. The only person he ever lost was Jiraiya and that too from off-screen. That’s why I felt his journey to his dreams seemed little easier compared to the rest of the characters.

His best block of episodes will always be the part 1 Episode 1, 2, 3. Episode 1 is the character defining episode for Naruto and what he learned there will be applied everywhere till the very end of the series. He learned 3 things

Forgiveness, Empathy and Acceptance

Talk-No-Jutsu

Kage Bunshin no Jutsu

From then on, this boy wins many friends to his side, not only from Konoha but from other villages too and even made them to acknowledge his strength only through his sheer hard work.

However, there is this person, whose acknowledgement he wants the most. That person is his most important bond along with Iruka Sensei. He is none other than Sasuke. One day, Sasuke left him alone for some unavoidable reason at the end of part 1 which left a huge scar in him and he vows to bring him back to the place where he belongs. That becomes his ultimate goal rather than becoming an Hokage.

The way he goes to any extent to protect the people he cares about is just simply entertaining to watch.

Every time he makes an heroic entry to save the day was never boring, not once.

Best Moments:

Sobbing from his heart after hearing Iruka Sensei acknowledging him (It just makes me feel heavy for no reason. The anime team did an awesome job to capture his emotions convincingly)

Awakening Kyuubi Mode for the first time after seeing Sasuke die in his arms (Man, out of all the collective hatred he got from the villagers, this moment affected him a lot speaks volumes)

Punching Neji from the underground to win the Chunin exams (God, I honestly believed Naruto lost but he just surprised us heavily from nowhere. And that failure speech was just pure bliss to watch even today)

Pain Vs Naruto (One of the best arc for Naruto. Because unlike other arcs, where Naruto fought with a team, this arc he was all alone fighting a person with Rinnegan. Be it the exuberant landing from the frogs with a dramatic kabuki music, creating multi-step attacks, coming up with novel solution in that difficult situation, finally ending the conflict without killing the enemy, becoming an hero. Superb journey. The only thing I didn’t like in that arc is some shitty selfish proposal. PUKE!!)

Bearing the burdens of his most important person and die along with him (This boy always shouts he will never die until he becomes an Hokage. But for Sasuke, he was ready to die along with him in order to not leave him alone proves how much he loves him. This shows his emotional maturity rather than shouting at Sasuke like he always did before which never reached his ears. This time it did)

Final Good Bye to Minato (Honestly, I was bawling just like Naruto in that scene no matter how many times I watch it. It started out slow but as he speaks more and more, he simply couldn’t hold back and wept a sea of tears 😭😭😭)

2. Uchiha Sasuke

One of the well written characters in this series, with all the flaws and positive stuffs which makes him more of an Anti-Hero. He always subverts my preformed opinions and never ceased to surprise me.

Despite being aloof and cold, his warmer side will always be exposed towards Naruto. This is evident by many things he had done for Naruto which he don’t have to or no reason to. Starting right from roasting Sakura, offering lunch, asking for tips, enquiring about breakfast, protecting him many times and dying for Naruto.

Why I placed him above Naruto is because of his unavoidable decision to tread in a complicated dark path primarily due to the trauma he carried and was stirred up again by collective factors such as Orochimaru’s cursed seal, Itachi’s arrival and Naruto’s growth. Compared to Sasuke, Naruto had an easier path because he never saw anyone die before his eyes and hence he don’t carry any trauma which can divert his path.

Even after watching his entire clan and family members murdered before his eyes at an age 8, he managed to pull himself and never snapped out like many other good characters does. But the moment when he found out that Itachi was good all along, he simply couldn’t tolerate the truth and gave himself to Vengeance. Because, he loved his brother more than he hated him all these years. This shows he loved his brother more than his parents. His resolve to destroy Konoha was perfectly understandable. But is it good? Nope. He can kill Danzo and those old hags but killing other people was never justifiable.

But still, his resolve to have his vengeance was diverted by Naruto and weakened by Itachi, at some point. So, he decided to know the truth and when he heard it, he understood the Hokages also sacrificed many precious things to protect this village just like his Brother Itachi. He understood the mistakes of his clan and decided to protect the village which he swore to destroy. [Many Sasuke fanatics think that he succumbed to the Government and Kishi wrote Sasuke to bootlick them. Their idea was to tackle genocide with another genocide. What a stupid idea!!!!]

And No, I don’t consider him trying to kill Sakura, Karin and Kakashi as his bad moments (though I feel bad for Karin). For the simple reason being, he became a monster by losing himself in the darkness who lost the rationality to differentiate friends from foes. Much similar to how Naruto lost himself to Kyuubi’s hatred against Orochimaru and in Pain Arc. It’s so hypocritical to ignore Naruto and accuse Sasuke here. Plus, Sakura had no business to be there otherwise Sasuke would not have tried to kill her.

But does it mean Sasuke did nothing wrong???

Nope.

He definitely shouldn’t have joined Akatsuki and hunted Killer Bee like an animal. Because, he knew that Tobi was the one who helped Itachi massacre the clan. When fighting Itachi he specifically vowed to kill Madara (Tobi). On top of that, Itachi passed on Amaterasu in his eyes specifically to stay away from Tobi. Why did he ally with him? Plus, Sasuke was one of the few characters who was exposed to the name ‘Akatsuki’ in part 1 itself. He clearly knew that this organization targets Naruto, his closest bond. Why did he join there? This is where the stupid part of Sasuke came out. I was grunting... ‘Oii Where did that clever Sasuke, who faced 1000 soldiers without killing any of them, went??’.

And his plan for Revolution???? I thought it would be reasonable. But his vision was eerily similar to Danzo’s vision. Grrr..... Danzo also wanted to create his ideal village by destroying the current Hokage. He wanted to unite the Five Village and put himself on top of everyone as evident from the Kage Summit arc.

I appreciate him that he finally adopted the Will of Fire, by wanting to protect the village at all costs just like Itachi and Hashirama did. But his methods are not very democratic. Plus, he wanted to do it alone. I was screaming at him... ‘Grrr, Sasuke, did you listen to Itachi at all???. He failed because he did everything alone. Why can’t you understand????’ This is also another instance, Sasuke’s stupidity glanced out.

I am happy Naruto knocked some sense into him by telling him not to do it alone but together.

Many fanatics also ask, ‘What did Sasuke do wrong to atone for his sins at the end?’.

I was like ‘Reallly????’

He joined Akatsuki, an organization which terrorized all the 5 villages and he hunted someone like an international criminal.

He spoiled the Kage Summit and attacked Raikage who lost his arm because of him. I know what happened over there is not Sasuke’s fault. But these are the kages who was loved by many people in their own villages. How can the world forget it and simply let him go?

It’s exactly because of all those lovely stuffs he did in Part 1 and all these mistakes he did in Part 2 but willing to correct his mistakes by sharing the burdens of his other half in the end made him more interesting, complicated and exciting and that’s why I love this character.

I also have a personal bias to love this character sooo much because of the character on top of my list.

Best Moments:

Defending Naruto before Sakura (Awww!!! Such a good boy he was. Eventhough I thought he was a typical arrogant K-Drama hero, he just subverted my opinion in that one scene. I always have a thing for people who stands up for someone even though they don’t have to. This is where I started to like Sasuke)

My body moved on its own. (Is there anything that trumps this scene in terms of emotions and love in this series?. This moment is where I understood the depth of Sasuke’s emotions towards Naruto).

What is a Clan? What is a Village? What is a Shinobi? (I was really hoping for Sasuke to question himself something similar to this. Because he was so self-absorbed in his hatred and failed to look outside him ever since he left the village. It was so gratifying that he did that)

Killing Orochimaru (I always thought Sasuke will kill him only after he tries to take over the body. Never imagined that he will strike the snake first)

Killing Danzo (Man, what an amazing battle!!!. It was so gratifying to see such a crass bastard die many times over and over).

His dramatic confession through his monologue (After the mystery of Who is this Tobi, Sasuke’s obsession towards Naruto remained a mystery for me. Why did he listen to Naruto under the bridge? Why did he protected Naruto in the War? I got the answer only after this confession. It was so heartwarming to see this mellow side of Sasuke)

1. Uchiha Itachi

I could write pages about him. The foremost reason I like Itachi and earns the top spot in my rankings is because he shockingly resembled me in many ways. As I already said, I come from a place where clan politics plays a major role and when I see Sasuke’s flashback in part 1, I was simply dumbstruck by such a detailed similarities.

Elder child of the family - ✅

Have an adorable younger sister who loves me more than my parents - ✅

Same age gap (5 years) with my sister as Itachi and Sasuke - ✅

Parents paying total attention on me while ignoring my sister completely - ✅

Parents constantly comparing my achievements with my sister - ✅

A sister who bear hugged me every time I entered the home after returning from my school - ✅

Despite my mom being a teacher, my sister always prefers me to teach her stuffs as she considers me to be way too better than my mom - ✅

Love my sister more than my parents - ✅

Clan-Obsessed parents - ✅

Used me as a tool for the benefit of the clan - ✅

Sending another person from my clan to spy on me - ✅

Strained relationship with my parents - ✅

Disgusted with my clan - ✅

Most importantly, this dialogue from part 1 episode 129,

Clan? Clan?

Obsessed with the organization, Obsessed with the clan, Obsessed with the name, that’s merely the detestable action that restrict yourself.

I have given up all hope in this worthless clan

Because, people obsess themselves to their clan, a thing so petty, they lose sight of the things that are truly important.

A real change cannot occur under restraints and controls

I confronted my parents with the exact same dialogue (almost 98% similar) in my own native language some years ago.

I didn’t even know the existence of Naruto series at that time. I was simply shell-shocked by all these similarities with this character.

And Yes, The moment I heard these dialogues, I knew Itachi, was a good guy, who had a very strong reason for his actions and I instantly knew Sasuke’s revenge will not bear him any happiness.

It is exactly because of all these striking similarities of myself with Itachi, and my lil’l sister with Sasuke, my family dynamics with the Uchiha family.... I could understand the magnitude of Sasuke’s love towards Itachi.

And precisely because of that, I could understand Sasuke’s love towards Naruto is not fucking ‘brotherly’ one but something that leans towards Attraction.

No wonder, Itachi left Sasuke in Naruto’s care.

Anyways to speak objectively,

Itachi is an extremely self-sacrificial person whose life is full of pain and miseries but never blames it on the world unlike other Uchiha members like Madara, Obito and Sasuke to an extent.

He did things considering the bigger picture which never benefitted himself in anyway and was willing to go to any extent even at the expense of his own family and his brother’s happiness. That is, Uchiha Clan Massacre and Joining Akatsuki. None of this benefitted him in anyways but he did it anyway, for the village of Konoha.

His ideals are shockingly similar to Hashirama, Which Sasuke pointed this out and Hashirama acknowledged that Itachi was a better shinobi than he was. ❤️❤️❤️

Now, does this means I support Uchiha clan massacre?

No way. Even Itachi didn’t.

This massacre happened because of the huge clusterfuck from Hiruzen’s incompetence, Danzo’s paranoid arrogance, Uchiha clan’s devious plan to over throw the government by force rather than approaching it in a peaceful way, say, a peace talk or a protest.

All these people acted on their own self-interest. Itachi and Shisui caught in their whirlpool, bear their burdens and paid for it with their life. Sasuke suffered for it.

But, it’s not the only reason I love this character. It’s because, the moment he decided to massacre everyone, he marked his own death by the hands of his beloved brother. I love people who owns up their mistakes and face the consequences rather than making excuses (even though it’s not entirely his mistake).

Itachi is also the only character in this series who realized his failures on his own without anyone’s interference or Naruto’s Talk-No-Jutsu.

And he apologized for everything he did to Sasuke.

Again, some hardcore Sasuke fanatics criticize/hate him for torturing their poor ‘Sasuke-Kun’ with his Tsukuyomi. I was like ‘Hmmm...What?’.

First off, Itachi apologized to Sasuke for not thinking out from his point of view and also for not telling him the truth earlier.

Second off, Sasuke never even blamed Itachi for anything (even he didn’t hold him for killing their parents). If Sasuke himself, forgiven Itachi... Why are his fans being so rabid?

Third off, for all of his supposed ‘crimes’, he paid for it by dying as a disgraceful Madman rather than a Hero who really saved the village. He is someone who should be celebrated like Naruto but instead died proudly as a Traitor of Konoha.

All in all, One of the wonderfully written character I have ever seen in the media.

Best Moments:

Itachi vs Sasuke (That battle was a pure brilliance and highly emotional especially after knowing the truth. When Sasuke released his Kirin, Itachi showed off his ultimate armour Susanoo like a badass. Seeing Susanoo for the first time gave me chills. No, Sasuke didn’t kill him. Itachi died on his own)

Itachi vs Orochimaru (Man, Itachi may look mellow but when it comes to Orochimaru he is a pure Sass. He screwed that snake up both the times by a wide margin. It seems Uchiha brothers like to fuck up Orochimaru, LOL)

Talk-No-Jutsu’ing Naruto (Geez, Naruto was being completely bratty and was full of saviour complex like he was going to bear everyone’s hatred by himself. I was almost annoyed. Thanks to Itachi, he realised. Probably he is the only character to shut Naruto using his own jutsu)

Izanami’ing Kabuto (Other than Naruto, he is the only character to go out of his way to empathize with a villain and put extreme effort to change him. I think this is why Sasuke loves Naruto, for seeing these similarities??? ).

Goodbye to Sasuke (The first time when he said ‘Forgive me, Sasuke. This is the last’ by poking his forehead and finally closing the distance by butting with Sasuke’s head softly saying ‘I will love you always’.... It always evokes uncontrollable tears in me, no matter how many times I watch it 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭)

HONOURABLE MENTION

Uchiha Obito

God, Am such a sucker for Uchiha guys individually, though collectively as a clan they fucked up big time. I simply couldn’t find the place for him in the top 10. He is a classic example of What Naruto will be like if he becomes a villain?

However, all those horrible stuffs he did just for a girl whom he had a crush on which was never reciprocated seems childish. That’s why I couldn’t put him in Top 10.

And his understandable but weird obsession on Naruto was always enjoyable to watch.

One cute thing I liked about him was, whatever criminal stuffs he may have done, he was never a cheapskate though. He had every chance to take back Kakashi’s Sharingan to activate his own Susanoo. But he never even thought of such an idea. He was a bad guy. But a good friend, no matter what.

Pure Baby!!! But lost his way!!!

Best Moments:

Importance of Team Work (’In the ninja world, Those who break the rules are scum. But those who abandon their comrades are worse than scum’. This very legacy he left to Kakashi came to defeat him later. And Naruto follows this motto even today)

Sacrificing his Sharingan (’I am giving you my Sharingan. No matter what the villagers say, you are a great Jonin. Please take it’. Awww!!! Obito. He left his Sharingan which helped Kakashi to complete a jutsu called ‘Chidori’, which is a go-to jutsu of Sasuke)

Thanks for the ask, anon. I thoroughly enjoyed writing this. ❤️

#ask #itachi #itachi uchiha #sasuke #sasuke uchiha #naruto #naruto uzumaki #hashirama #tobirama #hashirama senju #tobirama senju #madara uchiha #madara #killer bee #kakashi #jiraiya #tsunade #obito #obito uchiha

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therenlover · 3 years

Text

Orestes Fasting and Pylades Drunk (A Young Revolutionary!Zemo x Non-Binary Reader Oneshot)

(a/n: so, in honor of barricade day, have this young revolutionary!Zemo fic, which is basically just canon Enjoltaire dynamics but with a Zemo/reader twist on it, because that dynamic is literally my whole heart. Consider this a weird twisted Les Mis au if you want to, but you don’t need to know the book or musical to enjoy this, if it can be enjoyed...)

Synopsis: Helmut recalls the story of how he came to be the ruthless man he is and, more specifically, how he came into possession of his strange purple mask.

Tags: Canon Compliant, Angst, Young!Zemo, Non-Binary!Reader, Death, Enemies to Friends With Benefits to Lovers????, Implied Sexual Content, Friendship, Pining, Revolution, Speedrunning A Slow Burn

Rating: M (+16)

Warnings: Major Character Death, Implied Sexual Content, Gun Violence, Drinking, Minor Homophobia/Transphobia (it’s one sentence near the end and it’s very vague coming from Heinrich), Swearing, Survivor’s Guilt, Really Just Death Everywhere

Word Count: 10,200~

“What’s with the mask?”

The question was innocent enough.

Sam posed it while lounging on the expensive couch of Zemo’s Riga apartment, head tilted back and eyes closed in silent contemplation.

Bucky remained silent as Zemo glanced over from his place at the counter. Outside, the sun was long gone, giving way to a stunning moonrise over the city that poured through the stained glass windows and lit up the night with its glow. It was quiet, much quieter than things usually were between the trio. Still, things being quiet didn’t mean they weren’t tense.

Clenching his teeth, he took in a long breath through his nose. “I am unsure what you mean by that, Sam,”

“The mask,” Sam pushed, “you know, the one you wore during the fight in Madripoor. What’s the deal with that?”

“Ah yes. That mask,” As if on cue, Zemo took a long swig from his glass. It burned all the way down. He didn’t speak again, though, instead choosing to let his gaze fall on the elaborate tilework above his countertops, tracing the patterns with his eyes. Anything to divert himself from the thoughts that rushed back into his mind at the thought of the knit piece of cloth that sat firmly in his inner coat pocket.

Unfortunately for him, Sam wasn’t satisfied with letting the topic fizzle out. “Come on man,” he griped, rubbing a hand over his face, “we got you out of prison, so you owe us one. In fact, you owe us a lot. So, spill. What the hell is the deal with it? Were you Sokovian batman or something?”

That urged a dry laugh from the baron’s lips as he set his crystal glass on the counter with a little more force than was necessary. “Are you always so interested in your captives’ personal lives?”

“Usually,” Bucky chimed in dryly.

“I suppose I’m outnumbered,” Zemo sighed. The bile rising in his throat was easy enough to force down as he turned himself out on his stool to face the room. It wasn’t the right time for true weakness, not yet, but he couldn’t deny that painting himself in a desirable light and offering the pair honesty might give him the upper hand. So, he folded.

Slowly he retrieved the purple mask from his coat and turned it over in his hands. It still fit after all the years it had sat gathering dust in his storage unit which was a blessing in its own right. It still served its original purpose too. That mask had seen horrors beyond imagination, had been washed clean of blood more times than could be counted. Did it hold the memories of the things it had seen within its fabrics as Zemo did in his mind? Or was it as naive as he had been at the time of its creation? He let out a bitter laugh. That was a question they would have asked him.

As he exchanged his literal mask for one entirely emotional, Zemo leaned back on his stool and managed a smile. “How educated are you on Sokovian politics?”

Sam shut his eyes again, letting his head lol back once more. “I went to public school, so I don’t think I even knew Sokovia existed until it didn’t,”

“I know enough,” Bucky added. From his place leaning against the way, ever vigilant and ready to jump into an imagined battle, he turned to face Zemo and crossed his arms. “Hydra had fingers in the government there, more so than other places. There was a big power struggle in the ’90s when the king died, right? Because people wanted democracy, and they didn’t want the little shithead prince to take over,”

“Yes,” Zemo nodded, “My cousin Emil. I’m glad you’re familiar,”

A spluttered laugh escaped Sam’s lips as he shot up. “I know I shouldn’t be surprised by this stuff anymore, but damn,”

“He and I weren’t close,” Zemo waved his hand dismissively, and yet there was a strange sadness in his eyes. It wasn’t for his cousin, though. Not in the least. “But James was correct, there were riots in the streets when the king died. They were shut down quickly by the National Guard, though, who had more than a little help from Hydra’s favorite supersoldiers once they realized just how much power the citizens held. What street were you assigned to, James?”

Bucky sucked in his cheeks, eyes falling to the floor, but before Sam could butt in and defend him he had muttered an answer. “I cleared the barricade at 18th Avenue, the second largest. Those kids fought valiantly,”

Zemo hummed lowly. “And so they did,”

“Okay, what does any of this have to do with your stupid purple mask?” Sam exclaimed.

He was sitting up fully now, face turned to where Zemo had stood from his stool and begun to round the bar. His mask still sat in a small ball on the marble. It seemed to be a member of the conversation all its own, silent and sure, drawing all three men together as it weaved a story from the past into the present with its very presence.

“That mask served me well and hid my identity when I stood against the very men that were serving my family,” Zemo muttered, letting his fingers brush the fabric gently. The names of the lost sat heavy on his very soul even if they would never pass from his lips.

Hans, Andrei, Ivan, Vladimir, Anton, Lazlo, Nicholas, little Sebastian…

Y/N.

“I was young then, too young for my own good,” he said softly, “naive and hopeful and convinced that the world was able to change for the better if I simply willed it to be… so when I discovered the connection between my family and Hydra I packed up my things, emptied my bank account, and moved into a tiny apartment with another like-minded friend, Hans Perlitch,” a soft laugh escaped him, genuine and youthful and all too honest, “We preached to the hungry masses of a world free from the thumb of the elite and all the while we would return home to a heated apartment and a stocked pantry. Still, we were well-liked and gathered a bit of a following. That was when everything changed, the early fall of 1997…”

------------

“You know, for someone who claims to be as smart as you say you are, you’re quite a fool,”

The voice came from the back of the room, smoke still hanging thick in the air from the cigarettes shared by the masses of students that had packed the tiny repurposed stockroom of the bar while Helmut had given his speech for the week.

He didn’t give the interloper the dignity of his full attention as he gathered a few of his scattered notes from the table that served as his soapbox. Still, he was in a generally good mood. Almost double the usual students had shown up for the meeting and a few had even chimed in to ask questions, so he took a deep breath and resigned himself to the fact that rooting out one ignorant opposer now would mean less work in the long run. “I’ve never claimed to be smart, so I’m not quite sure what you’re referring to,”

A scoff came from the back of the room, but the person made no effort to come closer. “You can change your last name and present yourself as a member of the public all you want, but someday someone is gonna recognize that pretty face of yours, and your whole revolution is going to come crumbling to the ground,”

Now that was enough to make him pause.

“How did you-”

“How could I not?”

It was sardonic, biting and harsh in the worst of ways. Everything about the tone made Helmut’s blood boil beneath his skin. He was not one who enjoyed being threatened or outdone. Still, the play was out of his hands now, should this strange intruder choose to ruin him.

Biting his tongue, he finally turned to face them. “You have my attention, now what do you want?”

Across the room, the stranger remained unphased. They were relatively unremarkable, a bottle of cheap beer held firmly in their grip as they toasted to nothing and drank down the remaining dregs. With a smile and a chuckle, they propped their feet up on the small, round table before them. Something about that sight lit a fire in Helmut’s chest. He didn’t know who they were, or why he was there, but he was certain that he despised them already.

“I don’t want anything,” They replied, and with a certain grandness reserved for a gamin mocking the bourgeoisie, they flourished with their hands, letting their booted feet drop to the ground as they stood and bowed. “I’m just saying that if you’re trying to convince people that you’re not the missing baron while you’re pretending to be all impoverished and rallying us commoners, you might want to change more than your last name and your fashion sense,”

Helmut gritted his teeth. “So what? Did you come here just to rub my face in it, or are you going to help me make a change?”

That elicited a small snort from the stranger, but they did take the opportunity to traipse up to meet him at his table, leaning on the edge as they gazed up at him with a strange look in their eyes that he couldn’t quite identify. Their face was soft upon closer examination, alive and bright with a merriment that only came from intoxication. It made Helmut sneer involuntarily.

Licking their lips, they murmured, “Make a change? Is that what you think you’re doing?” and as they let a giggle escape their parted lips Helmut lost it.

He gasped them firmly by the front of their baggy sweater and dragged them in close. “At least I’m trying! What are you doing about it? Extorting the only person who might be able to actually make a change in this shithole of a country? That’s so much more helpful!”

Their faces were inches apart as Helmut spat his words like venom and yet the stranger never stopped smiling. It was almost dopey, the grin that made its way across their lips. Helmut couldn’t stand it.

“You know, baron,” they purred, setting down their empty bottle on the table beside them, “I like you. I might just stick around here for a little while, see what else about your little plan I can pick apart,”

Never in his life had Helmut been less thrilled for someone to join his cause.

“Why are you here anyway,” he groaned, releasing their shirt, “don’t you have something better to do with your Friday night than bother me?” and, as an extra jab, he added, “besides drinking yourself to death, of course,”

The jab didn’t land, though.

Taking it all in stride, the stranger simply grinned as if they too knew how badly they stank of cheap alcohol and was thrilled that someone had noticed. “Anton invited me. He said I should get out more, make some friends. It’s just a coincidence that I happened to recognize you while writing down an itemized list of all the things you got wrong while you grandstanded,” There was a pride in their words, a giddy energy burbling just beneath the surface of their skin, and suddenly it all made sense.

Anton was newer to their group, a poet and a free thinker, something hard to find in the slums of Novi Grad. Still, he lightened the impromptu meetings up with his smile and would often spend the hour scrawling away fervently in his notebook as he immortalized each and every word that was said “for posterity”. Helmut was sure that only someone as accepting as Anton would ever choose to spend their time with someone quite as insufferable as the person before him. Suddenly, and uncomfortably, he became aware that he didn’t even know their name.

Swallowing down a nasty barb, Helmut sighed and offered up his hand, which the stranger took after a moment of pause. “And you are?”

“Y/N,” They replied.

“Well, Y/N,” he spat their name from his mouth like a cherry pit, “I suppose I’ll have to get used to having a man like you-”

“Don’t call me that,”

Helmut cocked his head to the side. “Pardon?”

“Don’t call me a man,” Y/N replied, “and before you ask I don’t want to be called a woman either. I’m just… I’m just Y/N, at least for now I am, it’s not like I’d give a rich brat like you my legal name while we’re mixed up in all this illegal, halfway-treasonous nonsense you insist on spouting. Maybe next week I’ll be something completely different and new. Until I tell you otherwise, though, I’m just Y/N, your highness,”

“Do I dare dream that that means you might learn to respect my ideas?” Helmut sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face and choosing to ignore the sarcastic address in the hopes of letting such things fizzle and die without encouragement. Unfortunately, the goofy grin he got in return told him that was wishful thinking.

Suddenly, the door opened and Helmut jumped away from his newest tentative ally (if you could call them that) to find Hans standing in the doorway. At his side was Andrei, the third in command of their little posse and final member of the leading triumvirate. They seemed shocked at his lateness and he was quick to try to gather himself up lest they see him as undone as he had found himself while facing the smallest taste of Y/N’s antagonistic nature.

What had he even been doing when they interrupted him? It took him a moment to even gather himself together enough to remember. Scanning the room, his eyes fell on the papers

Oh yes, he had been gathering up his notes…

He was quick to finish the task as Y/N sauntered away towards the door, preparing to push past the two men who stood beyond it.

“You’re Anton’s friend, right?” Hans asked, back stiff. When Y/N nodded he did little more than give a noncommittal noise from the back of his throat. He had always been good with making things impersonal as he crunched the numbers and calculated probabilities. That was why Helmut liked him so much.

Andrei, on the other hand, provided a needed warmth to their leadership in his outreach.

He smiled warmly at Y/N and clapped a hand on their shoulder. “I hope we’ll be seeing more of you around,”

Y/N was quick to offer one of their signature grins before winking back at Helmut in a way that made his stomach turn. “Oh, you’ll be seeing plenty of me from now on,”

“We’re glad to have you,” Andrei replied as they passed.

Before they fully left, though, they turned one last time to shoot Helmut a final smile. “Till next Friday, fearless leader,”

Then, Y/N was gone, lost in the crowd of revelers beyond the small, smokey storeroom and, more importantly, beyond where Helmut’s eyes could follow. Somehow, despite everything, he missed having them there. He quickly chalked the feeling up to wanting to keep a close eye on people with the ability to thwart his best-laid plans and left it at that. Besides, he had no room in his heart for anything besides the betterment of Sokovia.

Attachments meant the possibility of other priorities, and other priorities got people killed. He couldn’t have that happening on his watch.

Thankfully, Hans snapped him out of his melancholy quickly. “Do you have everything sorted?”

Helmut gave a short nod before tapping the pile of papers against the table and setting out towards the door, abandoning his thoughts and feelings about his interaction with Y/N at the table as he exited the room and gathered himself once more into the man his friends needed him to be.

He could only hope that as long as he ignored Y/N’s jabs, they would soon grow tired and be gone within the month once they realized he was anything but afraid of their little games.

------------

Much to Helmut’s abject disappointment, Y/N did not, in fact, stop showing up.

They did quite the opposite.

Instead of leaving him well enough alone, they showed up to Helmut’s meetings every single Wednesday and Friday for months, always piss drunk and happy to jeer at him from the corner, shouting their unwanted opinions and throwing off every meeting with their nonsense.

It was as if they did it just to get on his nerves, and get on his nerves they did.

As the seasons changed, from spring, to winter, to fall, and, finally, to the very beginnings of summer, so did the types of jabs Y/N decided to throw.

In the beginning it was all business, comments on the idiocy of his plans for a protest based on common police routes or mocking jokes about his unending optimism when it came to fighting the national guard on a large scale, but as things began to get more and more serious on the path towards a full-fledged revolt, they seemed to aim more and more of their vitriol towards Helmut personally.

Sometimes it was a comment on his face or voice. “Ease up pretty boy,” they’d jeer, “keep talking like that and a guardsman might just do more than knock out a few of your perfect teeth,” Other times, which Helmut found infinitely worse, they’d throw a jab at his ability to lead them to victory. “The only thing that waits for us at the end of this is a painful death, especially if you’re not joking about those fucking super soldiers they supposedly have on ice,”

The worst part was that half the time, Y/N was right.

Helmut hated to admit it but it was true. More than once he had to go back and edit his plans to take into account a valid point thrown in by Y/N that he had never even considered. Hell, if it had been anyone else picking him to nothing he would have been grateful, but it wasn’t a well-meaning contributor trying to make the world a better place, it was a drunk who seemed to have one solitary life goal: making his life as miserable as possible. Perhaps that’s why they had devolved to frantic angry fucks behind crates of wine and massive cans of chocolate spread after the worst of their arguments…

Not that Helmut cared for them.

No, he didn’t do attachments. Neither did Y/N. They hated each other, after all.

It was just a way to release their tensions at the end of stressful meetings and nothing more. They were dealing with matters of life and death after all. It was only normal to seek comfort in the warmth of a companion, if he could even call Y/N a companion.

Whether he liked it or not, though, they were they to stay, even if they rarely made themself useful to the cause.

By early June, the drunkard had become close friends with all of the remaining students that still gathered at Helmut’s location for meetings instead of ending up at the offshoots that began to form once the group got too big to pile into the storeroom. Helmut loathed thinking about it, but Y/N was probably invited to more birthdays and Saturday night get-togethers than he ever was. There was something about their smile that drew people in. It made them feel wanted, welcome. Helmut hated that he never got those smiles from Y/N, only ever the mocking, blithe kind that they handed out freely to friends and enemies alike.

He didn’t have time to think about that, though. Not with so much fast approaching as the first pears began to hang from branches down in the royal orchards, soft and ripe and ready to be harvested. Their growth marked King Hugo’s daily weakening. His death could come any day, and when it did, Helmut knew he would need to strike quickly if he truly hoped to overturn the system before the coronation of his cousin. That meant every meeting, now more frequently held throughout the week, was filled to the brim with preparations and planning.

Well, preparations and planning and a healthy dose of Y/N and Helmut yelling at each other about nonsense across the room until Anton or Laszlo stepped in to pull Y/N down into their chair once more so the meeting could resume and they could all go home before things got too late and they were questioned in the street on why they were possibly out and about at such an hour.

Things were no different on that Friday meeting on June 4th.

“Is there anyone here who isn’t already passing out pamphlets in the dorms at NVU tonight?” Helmut asked the room, scanning for a hand that didn’t belong to his least favorite member of the group. Unfortunately, none came up. “Come one now, at least one of you has to be free,”

Y/N groaned. “It’s like you don’t even see my hand waving up here, oh great one,” There they went again with the ridiculous terms of address that made Helmut’s blood sizzle in his veins. He remained composed, though. At least, as composed as he could be given the situation.

“I’m ignoring you because I remember the last time I asked your drunk ass to pass out pamphlets. What round of dominos were you on by the time I showed up to check on you, five or six?”

The scalding remark was enough to get Y/N to sheepishly lower their hand, eyes downcast. It was getting easier and easier for Helmut to manage to shut them up the more frantic meetings got, and he couldn’t say he was displeased by that fact no matter why it was the way that it was. A quiet Y/N meant less chance for mistakes which meant fewer future casualties. Fewer casualties were good, it was what he strived for.

Thankfully for Helmut, a new hand came up.

It belonged to Vladimir, the oldest of the group by a year rounding out at an even 26 years old. He was dependable, definitely the kind who could be trusted to run an errand as important as the one Helmut needed to have done. The thought that Vladimir would be the one to pick up the shipment of smuggled guns was a relief. He made as much evident while explaining their next moves.

Throughout the remainder of the meeting, though, Helmut couldn’t help but feel watched. It didn’t last long, half an hour at most. Still, there was the creeping itch on the back of his neck that told him there were eyes on him that he wasn’t aware of. Only when the group was dismissed and the feeling didn’t go away did he realize exactly who was staring at him so intently.

“I hope you know I really did intend to hand out those pamphlets,” Y/N said once they were the last one remaining, the rest of the group having trickled out to get food and drinks before heading home for the night. It wasn’t unusual for Helmut and Y/N to be the last two remaining at the end of a meeting. That didn’t mean he was happy about it though.

So, instead of offering up an acknowledgment, he busied himself with plotting out a few potential spots to barricade the roads and hunker down when things got messy in highlighter on the large, laminated map of Novi Grad that had found its home on the big front table.

Y/N didn’t let up, though. They never did. “I know you don’t believe me, why would you, but I did. I just wanted to loosen them up before I started talking about overthrowing the damn government, which is a terrible plan, by the way. Have I told you that lately?”

“Only every time you see me,” Helmut sighed.

Somehow, that made Y/N smile, soft and sarcastic and all too honest. Helmut didn’t know how they managed it. Secretly, he envied their neverending veracity. He’d never say that though. No, not while they crossed the floor and offered up a large bottle of whiskey.

“A drink, dear leader?”

“Absolutely not” He griped, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How many times do I need to remind you I don’t drink?”

“Too many,”

“For once, I agree with you,”

A laugh passed through Y/N’s plush lips and, regrettably, Helmut couldn’t help but look up at them and relish in the sight. Their hair was a bit longer than they usually grew it out, a particularly unruly piece tucked behind their ear. Helmut hated that he noticed little details like that, despised the way he had come to know the soft dip of their cupid’s bow and the warmth of their palm. It was still Y/N, after all, for better or worse. He couldn’t help but allow himself those small recognitions though. It made him feel human, or something close to it.

Still, all good things must come to an end, and they did when Y/N decided to speak again. “You know, the longer I show up for these stupid meetings, the more I think you’re actually gonna try to go up against those bastards,”

Helmut should have known the barb was coming, but perhaps his better nature, if it truly existed, prevented that. Nevertheless, he sighed into his hands as he dropped his highlighter. “If I didn’t intend to actually try to change things, why would I have spent the last year of my life living in a shitty apartment and putting up with you?”

“You’d be surprised the things people do and never finish. Not everyone is as driven as you are,” Y/N huffed. They were quick to seat themself on the table once Helmut wasn’t actively working over it, smearing the highlighter away on their corduroy pants. “Nobody would blame you if you did tap out, you know. There are plenty of ways to make a change that don’t involve trying to take down the entire local Sokovian military force until they decide to give you what you want,”

“The changes we could make without a revolt wouldn’t really be changes, they’d just be the illusion of changes. You know that as well as I do,” Helmut replied with a groan.

Two of the fingers from Y/N’s free hand, the one that wasn’t gripping their bottle like a lifeline, pointed towards the closed door behind them. “Is living under our current system and knowing they have fingers in a few less-than-savory organizations really worse than leading all of your friends to their deaths?”

That struck a nerve in Helmut’s chest.

“And who says that has to be true?”

“Come on, oh benevolent and giving baron,” Y/N’s voice was light yet pointed, like a million minuscule particles of glass flying through the air, “Do you really think we’re all gonna make it out of a fight with the big guys? And even if all of us do, can you say the same for the poor kids fighting where we aren’t?”

“I never said there would be no casualties-”

“What about Sebastian? The kid is barely 12 and I know you’re going to say that if he tries to show up, you’re gonna send him home, but I think you underestimate how many people will want even someone as young as him dead if they catch him in the street. Are you really going to let him risk his life for this? A half-assed plan for you to get revenge on your asshole relatives for making your childhood shitty?”

“You know that’s not what this is about,”

“Do I?” Y/N asked, and for just a second, no, a millisecond, Helmut wasn’t sure anymore. It was only a brief moment though, nothing more. The fact that they could make him doubt himself do deeply though… it was a problem. Calling it that was an understatement, but there was no other way to put it that truly worked.

Helmut growled lowly and nodded, pushing the doubt from his mind. He was right. He had to be right. What would he be if he was wrong? A spoiled rich boy who was leading his friends to their dooms for nothing?

No.

He had to be right, so he was. It was as simple as that.

“Is there anything else you need to critique, or can you leave me to work now?” Helmut asked. His patience had long since worn thin. That didn’t matter much to Y/N, though. They liked to wear him down thin, see just how far they could push without breaking his resolve. It was a game they were both intimately acquainted with.

They played their hand expertly. “In fact,” Y/N smiled while they spoke, another mocking little grin that made Helmut’s stomach turn in the best and worst of ways, “there is one last thing I needed to ask about,”

“I shudder to think what it might be,”

“How are you going to hide your face?”

The question caught Helmut off-guard as he leaned back on his heels, letting his forearms brace against the edge of the table, his face scrunching up in thought. “What?”

Y/N gestured absently towards his face before bringing their bottle to their lips. “I’m betting that your family will expect you to be out there whenever we actually stage our attack. If I’m right, that means the soldiers will be looking for you as their top priority, and if they find you, they’ll kill everybody around you just to get a chance to drag you back to mommy and daddy. Even if they don’t kill us on sight we’ll be charged for harboring you without turning you in to the proper authorities. So, how are you going to hide your face?”

Once again, Helmut found himself thinking that, despite their drunken stupor, Y/N might just be right, and he hated it. He hated that he hadn’t thought of it first, hated that it was a valid point, hated that he had no satisfying way to answer the question they had posed. He hated it all.

“I’ll just throw on a bandana,” He managed to grumble, and that was that.

Or, that should have been that, but Y/N scoffed at the idea, setting down their bottle and leaning in close to Helmut’s face. After a moment of contemplation, they brought their hand up to his face and let their thumb come to rest on one of his largest beauty marks, the mole that rested high on the left side of his nose. “I’m afraid that a bandana isn’t going to cover up your absolutely blinding radiance, fearless leader,” There was a softness to their voice, a gentility Helmut was unused to. It made his chest hurt. He hated that too.

“Are you going to offer a solution or are you just going to sit there telling me I’m stupid,” His words were a low groan.

Much to his surprise, though, Y/N reached into their back pocket only to pass him a crumpled purple ball. It was obviously fabric, though the outside seemed to be coated in some sort of weatherproofing, and upon closer inspection, once unraveled, two distinct eyeholes became visible.

“Is this-”

“A mask?” Y/N finished his sentence for him, “Yeah. I figured you wouldn’t think about it, so I whipped something up with some old polyester-based yarn and then I coated it so it wouldn’t be a problem if it got wet. It should still be breathable, though,”

For the first time since he’d known them, Helmut looked up at Y/N and thought that they were incredibly valuable. He still hated them, of course he did. Y/N was Y/N and he was himself and they hated each other because they were, at their basest, entirely incompatible.

At his silence, Y/N looked away, almost nervous. “I hope it’s alright,”

“It’s more than alright,” Helmut said as kindly as he could possibly manage, “I hate to say this, but owe you one,”

“Could I collect on that debt now?” Minutely, Y/N leaned closer, eyes falling to Helmut’s lips.

He swallowed thickly. “You’re drunk, Y/N,”

“I know I am. Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Why would that be wonderful?”

“Because that means I won’t remember this,” And, with that, they closed the gap between the two of them and captured Helmut’s lips in his own.

Kissing Y/N wasn’t a new thing. They had kissed plenty of times during their frenzied hookups; soft kisses and hard kisses and long kisses and short kisses. Still, Helmut would never get used to the thrill of it. That was yet another thing he hated about Y/N. He could never quite get used to them. Every single interaction always felt as fresh and raw as their first.

With a fervor only he could muster, Helmut kissed back and pushed at Y/N’s hips, pressing them harder into the table below, and just as quickly as he had gained a physical mask, he had lost his emotional one.

------------

In the end, that was the last time Helmut had slept with Y/N.

They had fallen together, two sweaty half-dressed bodies laid out over the laminated map of Novi Grad, and then Y/N had gathered themself up and left with little more than one last kiss pressed to Helmut’s temple. By the time he himself had gotten home to Hans, the news of King Hugo’s death was almost an hour old.

After a few phone calls to lay the final plans and keep every sect of their band of revolutionaries on the same schedules, things rolled into motion like a finely tuned machine.

On the morning of June 5th, the barricades rose and Helmut wore his mask proudly as his people fought for freedom in the streets he had walked since childhood. Y/N was beside him.

By the early hours of June 6th, they were the only barricade that remained.

Helmut should have known that once things got too challenging that the super soldiers would be released, he should have anticipated that they’d be waiting for the backlash once king Hugo passed, and yet he hadn’t. He had blindly walked into the disaster with his eyes wide open. There was no one to blame but himself.

Little Sebastian, just one month shy of 13 years old, was dead, shot at long distance when he had attempted to grab a fallen box of bullets that had toppled over the peak of the jumble of hoarded furniture and scrap metal. Anton was dead too, taken at gunpoint while he stood guard at a side street and executed with his eyes bound and a sonnet on his lips. Even Ivan, stoic and strong Ivan who bound his knuckles in boxer’s tape and sparred with Helmut when he needed to clear his head, had been caught in the initial fire and bled out over the course of the day, dying with a smile on his face as he leaned on a discarded chair.

I never said there’d be no casualties.

His own words rang in his ears, taunted him with every bullet he shot and every breath he dragged into his aching lungs. How had he ever been so naive to believe that even one life could be expendable?

The real lowest point came at almost midnight when Helmut picked up a call from a student on another barricade only to met with screaming. “Winter is coming!” They had wailed, “Winter is coming!” and then they had died, right there over speakerphone. Helmut had the good sense to hang up once it got to the worst of it, the strangled gurgled growing to be too much for the group.

As things truly settled, in those hours so early that the world still considered them night, Helmut still stood vigilant. That’s when Y/N finally approached.

They wore no smile, not like usual. Instead, their face was stoic as they came to stand beside Helmut and waited silently for a moment. He took the chance to beat them to the punch.

“You don’t have to tell me you were right. I know you were,” I hate you for it.

Y/N offered a gentle, humorless laugh. “I wouldn’t rub it in at a time like this, but yeah, I was,” I know you do. I hate myself for it too.

Slowly, Helmut brought a hand to his face, scrubbing the exhaustion away from his eyes. How had it all come to this?

“How much time do you think we have,” Y/N was speaking before he had a chance to say anything more, saving him from having to elaborate on his admission. He was grateful. Grateful to not be alone, grateful to be spared more shame, grateful to see Y/N’s gentle smile one more time. He’d never show it though. No, he was to be the fearless leader till the end.

So, he sucked in a deep breath and stared out into the starry sky. “A few hours at most. I’m surprised they haven’t made another advance after the last big push in the evening when we lost…” he swallowed thickly, “when we lost Anton,”

Licking their lips and pushing back their hair, Y/N sighed. “For what it’s worth, for a minute there I really believed you could do it,”

It was a bigger compliment than it seemed and they both knew it, but neither acknowledged it. Instead, Helmut gestured absently towards the half-full bottle of wine in Y/N’s hand. “You mind if I have a drink of that?”

A grin spread across their lips, but it was as far from mocking as was possible as they passed the bottle over.

“I never thought I’d see the day,”

Lifting the bottom of his mask to take a swig, Helmut groaned at the deep, bitter burn of it. “Don’t get used to it,” He replaced the fabric quickly before passing the bottle back.

“I’ll try not to,”

“Happy 20th, by the way,” Y/N added, “this is a hell of a way to celebrate, but it’s very you,”

Helmut froze as the realization sunk in that it was, in fact, the 6th of June, even if it had only been that way for a couple hours.

There had been a party planned. It was just an intimate thing, cake and a few card games in the afternoon with his closest friends, but that was long behind them now, forgotten in favor of the larger cause. To Y/N, though, there was never a larger cause than Helmut himself. He was realizing that slowly. In a bitter moment of realization, he laughed.

“What?”

“You weren’t invited,”

They quirked up an eyebrow. “Huh?”

“To the birthday party. I didn’t invite you,”

“Well, I’m here now, and this is a pretty good party if I do say so myself. You and me and the revolution all jam-packed together in the middle of a street. Wouldn’t it be cool if the new democracy was born on the same day you were?”

He smiled softly. “It was meant to be,”

“I got you something, you know, even though I knew I wasn’t invited to the party,” Y/N added breathlessly. “It was stupid, just some dumb sweater with a whole bunch of random ass quotes from Machiavelli all over the back, but Anton and I saw it when we visited the better side of town to hang up those fliers for the march a few weeks ago and we knew you had to have it. It’s sitting all wrapped up on my front table,”

“It’s a shame I won’t get to open it today,”

They nodded distantly. “Yeah, a real shame…”

Then, they were quiet again, staring up at the stars mere feet away from each other and yet miles apart, farther than they’d ever been.

Y/N cut through the soundless night first, but not before several silent minutes had passed, filled with only the distant chatter of their surviving friends and the gentle whistling of the breeze over the rooftops above. “When everything goes to shit… with the universe, I mean, not now. Everything’s already gone to shit now. But that notwithstanding, when the world goes kaput and the sun explodes, we’re all gonna be starstuff together, right? You and I and Sebastian and Andrei and Anton and… all of us. We’re gonna be nothing but matter and dust out there in space,”

“Is there a point to this or are you just having an existential crisis?” Helmut muttered, but there was no bite to it.

They just chuckled as their eyes scanned the sky.

“I was just thinking, if all of us are gonna be nothing more than matter and dust and star stuff, it only makes sense that someday, even if it’s a billion years from now, a little part of each of us will be together again as part of some supernova in the sky to be seen by somebody else, and, when that day comes, I think I’m gonna know, and everything is gonna be alright,”

He hummed thoughtfully, running a hand absently over the thick purple knit of his mask, relishing in the gummy softness of the coating on his bare fingertips in the cooling air. “That makes no sense,”

“Do you think I don’t know that?”

“Still, it’s a pretty thought. Anton would have liked it,”

“Yeah, he would have…”

Helmut let his eyes fall from the sky to his companion. They looked so fragile, so broken, that he could barely stand himself, because, if he hadn’t made the stupid choices to lead them here, they never would have felt that way. They’d be curled up in bed somewhere, asleep and safe, far from the cold darkness of the night at his side. It made him sick.

How could he possibly put that to words? How could he apologize for denying every nudge, every chance to turn around? He couldn’t, and it made him as bitter as the wine that Y/N sipped from absently before turning to face him once again.

“Hey, Helmut,” they whispered, and his breath caught in his throat because how dare his voice sound so sweet on their lips? How dare they keep that joy, the joy of hearing his name whispered with reverence on the early morning breeze, real and caring and perfect, away from him for so long? “Do you think I could take a chair from the barricade?”

Just as soon as it had come, the joy was gone. “Why would you need a chair?”

Y/N shrugged. “I want to go sleep,”

“Why can’t you sleep out here?”

“I don’t want to be woken up,”

“We wouldn’t wake you until the fighting was starting back up again-”

“Oh, my darling fearless leader,” their voice was empty, tinny and cold, “I don’t ever want to be woken up,”

Their words pierced Helmut straight through the heart he didn’t know he had. It made him feel so much, so many emotions he had simply not allowed himself out of a misplaced sense of self-preservation. “But we’ll need every able body ready to fight when they send in the super soldiers if we even want a chance at making it out of this,”

The smile that crossed Y/N’s lips didn’t come from a place of joy, nor did it mock Helmut for his blind and dying faith. It was simply there because they did not know how to do anything else. “There’s no making it out of this. Not for me, at least. For you, though… you still have a chance,”

Denial and anger went hand in hand as Helmut sucked his teeth, grinding his molars and letting his hand ghost over his pistol hanging at his hip.

“So you’d really rather die like a coward than take a stand against the evils in the world?” he spat, harsh and cold as the air around them. “Pathetic,”

“Don’t do this now, Helmut, not after we were finally getting somewhere. I don’t want to die with things like that,”

“I’m not the one who’s giving up,” he snapped.

He just needed… something. A reaction. A reason to keep fighting when the war was already lost. Anything. Why couldn’t Y/N light the same fire in him that they’d kindled for months? The fire that had driven him to spend sleepless nights poring over maps and plans and speeches and guns. If he just pushed a little harder, just hit the right button, they’d light it again, he just knew it.

“Please,” the word fell fragile from Y/N’s lips. Not a beg, just a soft plea.

It fell on deaf ears.

“You know what? You can take your chair!” Helmut was shouting then, loud enough that the remaining students on the barricade could hear every word. “Take your chair and leave us to fight while you die in your sleep. If we make it through the day I’ll put the bullet between your eyes myself. Now get out of here! I don’t want to see you again,” There was a cruelty to it, an edge that he thought might just push them off the edge. Still, it wasn’t cruel without reason. Helmut thought that maybe, if he was lucky enough, Y/N would simply leave.

They had no stakes in the results of the revolt, no serious lasting ties that would get them hunted down in the weeks to come if things came to a gruesome end. If he bid them to leave, to disappear from his sight, there was a chance, however small, that they would disappear into the shadows with a chance to live.

Against all odds, though, Y/N smiled one of those empty smiles again and drank down the very last of their wine.

“As your baronship commands,” they whispered, before departing to gather up a chair and disappearing into the restaurant where they had met so many times before.

Then, they were gone, and Helmut was free to sink to the ground as his heart broke and mended and broke again.

------------

As expected, the super soldiers arrived only a couple of hours past Y/N’s departure.

Their arrival was silent, only marked by the slow thud of retreating national guardsmen in the distance. They weren’t needed there anymore, and the less they saw the better.

Helmut watched his friends fall one by one in the panic, the barricade falling to ruin as the soldiers- if they could even be considered that, soldier seemed a far too human term for the monstrous creatures before him- pulled it apart with their bare hands. From there it was just a game of who was caught first in the insanity that ensued.

Nicholas; caught a bullet through the neck.

Vladimir; thrown against a solid stone wall at a speed near impossible.

Lazlo; impaled on a bit of broken wood as the wood exploded.

Andrei; shot 3 times point-blank in the chest as he held the door closed to buy Hans and Helmut a little more time with a love confession for his closest companion falling from his mouth.

Hans…

Helmut didn’t know how Hans died.

He had never asked. All he knew that the shots had come as he wailed Andrei’s name, and then there was a deathly silence in the golden light of the morning sun as Helmut stood alone at the back of the storeroom, taking in the 4 walls that had held the best year of his life.

What remained now?

A failed dream? A pile of bodies? A single survivor waiting for his death?

Helmut didn’t know. He couldn’t fathom it.

The two soldiers sent to finish the job were nameless and nondescript as they slipped through the door, armed with long, silent rifles and hidden by masks not too dissimilar from Helmut’s own. They did not speak, not a word. Instead, they simply raised their guns and took aim at Helmut as he closed his eyes and thought of-

“Wait!”

The word rang out heavy and made the two executioners snap to the side.

“I’m with him! I’m with the revolution! Down with King Emil! Down with the monarchy!”

There, hidden among the crates and shelves of canned goods and glass bottles, was Y/N.

They looked objectively awful, eyes rimmed red and hair mussed up and coated with oil. Still, it was the most beautiful sight Helmut had ever seen.

It was only right that they go together.

Slowly, Y/N made their way across the room to take their place at Helmut’s side. “I know you said you never wanted to see me again, but I assume you’ll make an exception for the circumstances,”

“I never meant it,” he whispered back, and Y/N smiled, “You have to know, I never meant it,”

“Even if you did, I never would have listened-”

Suddenly, one of the soldiers spoke, taking aim straight for Helmut down the barrel of their gun.

“Quiet,”

Y/N only paused for a moment before pressing their hand into his. “Kiss me, Helmut?”

Who was he to deny them?

Pulling off his mask, he pressed his lips to theirs and clasped their hand like it was the last thing he would ever do. When he pulled away, they were smiling one of their old, mocking, joyous smiles.

“Oh, fearless leader… I win,”

The words were a whisper of air against his lips. Before he could fathom the true meaning of them the pair was peppered in a spray of gunfire as Helmut closed his eyes to the world for what should have been the final time.

When he opened them, Y/N was struck dead at his feet.

------------

It was their final winning move, he later realized, the checkmate to a game of chess he never believed would end.

In the end, Y/N had been as correct as they always were.

All the same, he hated them for it.

Some nights, in the darkness of his room back at the summer estate where his father has imprisoned him until further notice, he wondered if Y/N had kissed him because they wanted to or if they had done it to get him to remove his mask long enough that the soldiers would recognize him and spare him. It wouldn’t surprise him. Y/N did have a tendency to be right about things like that.

Ghosts haunted him often.

Not full specters, he would wish for something so merciful. Instead, he saw flashes in the periphery of his vision. Outside his window, he’d hear a child’s laugher and be so sure it was Sebastian until he looked out to find that it was simply a group of the staff’s children playing ball. Or, when the assigned guardsman brought him his dinner, he would glance down the hall and be so sure that a man at the other end was Lazlo, preparing to face a board of proctors as he delivered a thesis he would never write. It never was, though. It never would be.

Worst of all, when he laid awake in his bed as the clock struck twelve, he would feel them beside him.

They had never slept together in the literal sense. Whatever they had shared (love, Helmut would come to realize after many, many years with Heike, painfully hollow without the same kind of flame. He had loved them and simply never known how to show it) was purely physical and contained within that bloody, bloody storeroom that he was sure would be torn down someday soon as they glossed over the casualties and stamped out the evidence. Still, he could feel Y/N beside him in the darkness despite the fact that they had never been there.

Their head on his chest, their body pressed flush to his side, their hot breath fanning over the fabric of his nightshirt, creating a patch of damp warmth in its wake…

It was maddening, an eternal punishment he was doomed to endure for his stupidity. Nevertheless, if he let his brain wander to a better place, a different lifetime, it was almost comforting to feel their ghost wrapped tightly to his side.

When he woke, though, the loss of the dream was more maddening than living through it.

Almost a month after the failed revolution, in the hot and heady days of early July when the wasps buzzed loud at the window and the skies were filled with thunderclouds most of the time, his father finally came to speak to him.

“I trust you spent your birthday how you wished to,” Heinrich said plainly. There was no question to it, just an empty sentiment.

Mockery wasn’t nearly as pleasant when delivered by his father and not his lover, Helmut thought distantly.

“On the contrary, I spent my birthday watching everyone I cared about die,” he snapped back.

Heinrich didn’t offer any sort of commiseration. He simply shrugged and continued on with what he was there to say, not that his son minded much. The less time he spent there the more time Helmut would have to himself, which was preferable to listening to his father’s droning.

“You’re lucky to be alive. The family is on thin ice thanks to that stunt you pulled, but with time we’re all sure that you’ll become an asset if you simply learn to use that fire for something more… productive,”

Who the ‘we’ was went unspoken. It didn’t need to be.

Helmut sighed and looked out the window at the rain falling on the garden. Nicholas would have loved the gardens at this home. He would have pressed every flower at least once in the little book he kept beside him filled with the pieces of the world that he collected as he passed through it. Where would he be kept and collected now that he was dead?

“I’ve called in a favor and enrolled you for military service. You’ll be tested to find your strengths, sent where you’re best suited, and trained from the ground up. Once we know you can be trusted, you might even lead your own squadron and make some friends more of your caliber,”

It took all Helmut’s strength to clench his teeth and hold back the rage he felt in his chest. “When do I leave?”

“As soon as you’re married,”

Married.

The word struck a bolt through the rage and dissolved it, giving way to pure shock. “What the hell do you mean?”

Crossing his arms, Heinrich took to pacing a 2-foot line back and forth in front of the door. “We’ve found a suitable match from a good standing Sokovian family, and they’re willing to look past your little misstep as long as their daughter becomes a baroness and is adequately involved in society. She’ll be here in three days time and you’ll have a week to get acquainted before the wedding,”

“I never said I was going to get married,” Helmut growled, “You can’t make me get married,”

His father stared down at him from above like he was a little boy again. “I can make you do whatever I want. Don’t think I didn’t hear about what happened with that freak they shot down at your side! No son of mine is ending up with someone like-”

In an instant, Helmut had rushed across the room and punched his father square in the jaw. As blood poured down the man’s face, a hiss escaped his son’s lips.

“Never talk about Y/N like that again,”

“So it had a name!”

That earned him another punch, but Heinrich escaped Helmut’s grip quickly, cupping a hand beneath his nose to catch the redness that poured from his face. As he retreated out the door, he turned to deliver his final verdict. “You have three days to get your act together, and maybe, just maybe, if you don’t fuck this up, I’ll let you know where they dumped all your little friends to rot,” And with that, he shut the door behind him and left Helmut to pick up the pieces of his soul.

------------

The tale Zemo wove was a sad one (sans most of the details about Y/N. That was a story whose finer details he would take to his grave) and as he came to a close, the purple fabric between his fingers was a tether to reality. The coating was a bit old, thinner in places than it should have been, but it had remained steady and strong for over 20 years and he didn’t know the first place to start repairing it.

Y/N would have known, they’d been the one to do it in the first place after all, but they were long gone, not even a ghost anymore. Just a name and a face forgotten to time as all the other impoverished students were, buried in an unmarked grave in a place he never learned. It was all that remained of them. The only thing that proved they were ever there at all.

“You know the rest of the story,” he added firmly. “I married Heike, climbed the ranks of the military, had my son… and they were simply lost, an unwritten page in the history of a country that no longer exists,”

Suddenly, though, a deep voice cut in through the heavy air between them.

“Ciczheni,”

“Pardon?” Zemo asked softly, pouring himself a final tumbler of whiskey and stuffing the mask back in his pocket.

“We buried them in Ciczheni,”

He nearly dropped the bottle in his hand.

Bucky was quick to continue, voice low and eyes clouded with memory in a way that only the two of them would ever truly understand. “It’s a tiny town along the border to the Czech Republic. There’s a big open field there, or at least there was, marked with a flat grave marking it as a burial site. I don’t remember the name on it, some random pseudonym, but they’re all there, all 57 dead and buried in the ground under that rock,”

Helmut gave a stiff nod. “I see,” Then, in one long gulp, he downed the whole two fingers of whiskey straight and relished in the way it burned down his throat. When the glass was empty and set down safely on the counter again he was quick to school his expression as he turned away. “I’m afraid all that excitement has exhausted me for the day. Goodnight, gentlemen,”

He was gone down the hallway into his bedroom before the pair had a chance to say another word.

Ciczheni.

As he undressed, he smiled softly, letting a few errant tears drip down his cheeks.

They had been born and raised in that tiny farming town. Sometimes, when he had let himself listen in on their conversations with some of the other members of their small, tight group, they would talk about how much they wanted to return someday, once they’d made enough money to live on for a while if they supported themself by growing a small garden and maybe keeping some chickens. The thought, even then, had always made him smile. Just Y/N and a cottage and a chicken or two.

Sometimes, if he was especially indulgent, he would imagine himself there with them. Sharing a home.

Making a family.

His biological family, the one he had created with marriage and his own flesh and blood, was something different entirely. He had loved them. God, how he’d loved them. Still, it was never the same. He was never at peace. He was never home. There would always be a bitterness there, as bitter as the dark summer wine he’d drunk the night he’d turned 20, a resentment that came with the obligation of creating a place in his heart for them when there never should have been.

For Y/N, though...

He sighed, wrapping himself in his robe and slipping on a pair of fleece pajama pants before crawling between the sheets and laying flat on his back, eyes to the ceiling.

Things wouldn’t have been happy all the time. Hell, they probably wouldn’t have been happy even most of the time. Still, they would have been where they belonged, seated firmly at his side for the rest of their long, wonderful lives.

Ciczheni, he repeated in his mind, then the memorial for Novi Grad. It was a minor detour, adding barely 2 hours more to the whole trip when he had plenty more to spare.

Ciczheni, then Novi Grad, and then, finally, peace.

Beside him, he could feel the phantom limbs wrap around his body, resting their weight firmly on his chest where the guilt and shame and terror built by the day, and for the first time in almost a decade they were not Heike’s. Perhaps, if all went according to plan, they wouldn’t be phantom much longer.

Or, if not, he would wait. He would wait a billion years to disintegrate into stardust and spread across the cosmos in search of them.

Either way, when they were together again, he’d know.

They both would.

--------

a/n: I’m not crying, you’re crying.

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