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wowsoboring · 3 years

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Deconstructing Baseless Harry Potter Arguments#2 (i) : Harmione Edition

Obviously I once again do not mean to target all Harmione shippers. I know quite a few who're very good human beings and tolerant and accepting above all. However these aren't. In this case, you might sense quite a bit of levelheadedness in the beginning, however you must not be fooled as it goes south and takes a nasty turn very quickly. Don't get your hopes up, this is some of the worst shit I've ever seen, especially the way in which it progresses through its course. Naturally, for this post I have picked my own style of writing which will match that of those redditors. Reddit is the perfect breeding ground for all these weird cults, honestly. I shall be resorting to a formal language and style of conversation, very much like a debater would to sound as pretentious as these do. These posts are found on the instagram handle toxicharmonyshippers who gather such toxic musings and sayings for Harmione shippers while respecting the ones that are nice.

Oh yes, let's use words like 'vehemently' to sound smart, why not? Of course, this little tidbit of the highly stupendous post seems more or less civil at the start. They also have the common decency to say "some Romione shippers" rather than generalizing all of us. Very nice of you, how very saint like. Let's wait till they drop the act and show us their true colors. Harkening back to the argument, I have but one question for you, "where do you find these people?". Where's the proof? Who are these radical Romione shippers who worship Ron and dislike Hermione? I haven't seen any such shippers and I am surrounded by Romione shippers on tumblr, instagram and fan fiction sites as well and haven't met the people you speak of. Some point out her flaws, yes, but no one hates her or dislikes her that much. I have seen two or three Romione shippers across hundreds and thousands who're skeptical of Hermione's perfection. Skeptical. Not hating, disliking, or anything. Of course, unlike this person, I have evidence: find these pi charts for your referral (clickable): https://imgur.com/a/QfPnQbB

you can, through these, see the amount of Hermione bashing across Harry Potter fanfiction and you can see that even in Romione fanfiction there's more Ron bashing. Hermione-bashing is a non-issue. That's what it is. Regarding the "nagging" statement, where's the lie in that? "Annoying" is somewhat subjective, I personally don't find her annoying at all. Who are these people and how often do you find them? "Mary Sue" is only reserved for Movie!Hermione. I have only seen book fans call her that. No one has ever called Book!Hermione Mary Sue. The movie does paint her as a flawless, all-rounder who's also drop-dead gorgeous. Only things she's bad at are flying and divination, all of which she denounces as useless, even though flying is like biking for wizards, divination, sure, not that important. with a teacher like Trelawney, even I would denounce it as hokum.

Remember what I said about waiting for them to show us their true colors, well here they are. Bask in the glory of their senseless arguments. Why, I am from reddit, heck I have 25 thousand karma points on there, I just left because it was too stupid for me but I can argue like them very well. And in this case I would like to say that these people are under the impression that Ron is just there in the story for the sake of existence. And he doesn't work hard. That argument is of course, wrong. Because Ron (in no particular order):

1) fights a troll when he's 11

2) is willing to sacrifice himself when he's 11

3) stands up for his friends

4) makes sure Harry feels like he belongs in the family

5) worries about Harry and rescues him from literal jail

6) stands up against Draco rather than by-standing and enabling his behavior

7) tries his level best to make sure Norbert the dragon is in safe hands and carries it out, albeit not in perfection

8) is with Harry every step of the way in his confronting the basilisk

9) sends Harry and Hermione long letters and calls them often to check up on them

10) stands up on a bitten leg to defend his best friend

11) always apologizes for any of his mistakes and is forgiving when others wrong him

12) works his way to join the Quidditch team unlike Draco who most certainly bought his way in

13) destroys at least 2 horcruxes

14) finds out how to defeat a horcrux

15) has an excellent enough memory and observation to notice Harry speaking parseltongue and also using it to his benefit which proves he's resourceful

now since I have 8 more such pictures to rebut and I do have a life, I will stop. These aren't even a twelfth of the remarkable things Ron has done though, so rest assured.

oh wait what did you say about him just existing and not working for anything? If I recall correctly, he did just as well as Harry did in school and didn't score well only in subjects he didn't care about. Which is true for most people except for Hermione who has an eidetic memory which not everyone has, understandably. Rote memorization is not the best way to get by in life, by the way.

what are the "so many reasons" behind why Harry is the best fit for Hermione? Kindly share so I can rebut those too, I'm rather free nowadays, my finals have been cancelled. You say there are so many reasons but don't even give one, yet you want me to take you seriously. I'm afraid that's impossible.

Romione shipper here, i don't dislike Hermione. I haven't met or seen many people in the book!romione fandom who dislike Hermione (except for Movie!Hermione). The question of someone you like ending up with someone you dislike doesn't particularly make sense. In Friends, Chandler ends up with Monica: now I'm not the biggest Monica fan (I don't hate her but I don't like her very much either) but they are my favorite couple because they make sense. It's about compatibility and character traits, not liking or disliking because that's just a set-up for a ghastly invitation for people to pair up hideousness. "Oh yeah, I like Harry and I also like Hagrid, they should be together. I mean it would be very very disgusting but that's my logic, now, you can't fight it. "- that's how you sound. Please read what you write. Your logic is just...abysmal. That's all I can say without breaking my resolve and berating you with colorful profanities.

This is without the doubt, the easiest one to rebut. It's a delight to see such terrible arguments at my disposal. Come on, dear Harmione shippers, write something that makes me question my choices, not things that make me scoff in disbelief.

In this case, you're essentially providing us with theories. Unproved theories and speculation of what you believe because you'd say anything you like. Where's the proof of your theory, though? Where is that crazy radical Romione shipper who does this? Kindly show me these people. Oh yes, you wanna say we objectify Hermione and disrespect her and view her as a prize. This aches me, that you believe this. No one has ever insinuated this, ever, in the history of anything. What is this winner-loser theory? How do you round off Harry Potter to "an alpha-male ends up with lead-lady" trope and still say you're a fan of the series? Harry Potter doesn't fit in with that format. Ron, Hermione and Harry are co-heroes. Similar to how there's no main character in Friends or the Heroes of Olympus series or the Avengers. We're not living in the 80s anymore. Hermione will be a hero, invariably whether she ends up with Harry, Ron or no one. She ends up with Ron and that's it. Talking about her like this doesn't make you sound any better either. Now you're calling me a misogynist because I don't support the ship of two people who describe themselves as siblings. That's very mature of you. Well here's the thing- I'm not a misogynist. It's as simple as that. I believe that women are capable of anything and everything. I believe Hermione is an amazing person and she is a hero and a different person. I believe the series would be impossible without her. I believe she is no one's prize. There's no requirement of a prize. I just think, similar to canon and the truth and her romantic interest, she will have a great relationship with Ron. There's nothing complex or deep about it, really. No personal weird-thing, no psychological complex, no internalized misogyny. There's nothing deeper than what I said. I am not sexist. I am a feminist. I am all for women empowerment. I love women with the fabric of my being. I love Hermione. I think she's amazing. You only become sexist when you ship people with unstable power dynamics, a bully-victim relation or something of the sort. Neither Romione, nor Harmione are sexist. Heck if you paired Neville with Hermione you wouldn't be sexist. And I hate talking about this so much, I can't even tell you. This talk does make it sound like I treat Hermione like an object and I assure you I respect her and I normally won't talk like this unless someone just outright calls me sexist for something that's not sexist. And this is that situation.

in the case of Romione, no one is too good for anyone. Both are amazing people who're heroes and have done amazing work. That's all I have to say. There's no league, they are romantically interested in each other. I have no intention on sounding lame, but, in love there is no league. As long as you're not putting in any effort and are extremely lazy and leech off of your partner, there is no such concept and no, Hermione is not "too good" for him. Unless of course you're talking about movie Hermione, who is too good for anyone.

5) (halftime!)

oh yes they try to pull this off and wonder why we hate them. Classic. This person likes to sound british, so let's switch up our language, yeah? At least then I won't be out of my element. Let me correct ya, Ron at his best is an amazing, loyal, friendly, brave, strategic hero. There you have it. Ron and 'git' can't be used in the same sentence. Now if you talk about Ron's achievements, I re-iterate you to point two. If it's too much work, here:

1) fights a troll when he's 11

2) is willing to sacrifice himself when he's 11

3) stands up for his friends

4) makes sure Harry feels like he belongs in the family

5) worries about Harry and rescues him from literal jail

6) stands up against Draco rather than by-standing and enabling his behavior

7) tries his level best to make sure Norbert the dragon is in safe hands and carries it out, albeit not in perfection

8) is with Harry every step of the way in his confronting the basilisk

9) sends Harry and Hermione long letters and calls them often to check up on them

10) stands up on a bitten leg to defend his best friend

11) always apologizes for any of his mistakes and is forgiving when others wrong him

12) works his way to join the Quidditch team unlike Draco who most certainly bought his way in

13) destroys at least 2 horcruxes

14) finds out how to defeat a horcrux

15) has an excellent enough memory and observation to notice Harry speaking parseltongue and also using it to his benefit which proves he's resourceful

hey, see, I like Ron and I took the time to copy-paste this instead of asking you to scroll up. And I'm a lot of bad things but I am not lazy. I stick to my deadlines like Hermione. I start my homework in library class and continue it during phys ed the day its given. And I am not exaggerating. Bloody hell, I wish I was. I'm the ceo of deadlines, mate, don't tempt me! So you can see that Ron is much more than just a "nice bloke". And being a "nice bloke" isn't a bad thing either. He's all the things I said: intuitive, strategic, helpful, loyal and on top of that he's also a nice person. Yes, I do see a bit of myself in Ron. I do. I see the insecure side. I waste my time hating myself and criticizing myself and undermining myself, telling me I'm no good. But Ron overcomes that. He inspires me to appreciate myself. Is that a bad thing? Are you going to shame me for having a low self-esteem? Do you want to worsen my low self-esteem and make me feel more like shit?

Now the person who replied to your comment saying, "he isn't a nice bloke most of time.", he is. He is not being nice twice in a span of 7 years. How often do you act rudely or with jealousy? Wasn't Harry yelling at everyone in caps lock in OOTP. Now I don't condemn him for that because he's a fucking hormonal teenager like me and that would make me a hypocrite, but by your logic why don't you condemn him? Or why not condemn Hermione for saying "I only date good Quidditch players" and shoving canaries at Ron's face because someone else kissed him, while she kept using Krum and Cormac to make him jealous. She wasn't being a nice girl, then, was she? Now, once again, i don't dislike her or hold that against her because guess what, mate, I'm a hormonal teenage girl who gets jealous most of the time and would probably react in a similar fashion in the spur of the moment (Not defending her actions here, just putting myself in her shoes.) In short, Ron is a nice bloke MOST OF THE TIME.

It would be misogynistic to think that. The thing is, NO ONE DOES my dear friend! My dear daft friend. I have never heard anyone say that! why are you so hell-bent on portraying us as misogynists when no one ever says that? Stop assuming. Just stop. You are crossing a limit here, aren't you? Yes you are. You cannot say these sort of things. We never said that or believed that, no one ever said this to be a reason to ship Romione. God what is wrong with you? Literally, stop fucking ASSUMING god damn it! Do you want me to assume things about Harmione shippers? Do you want me to go there? Because I will go there! I will go there the moment you tell me to. Just challenge me.

Ron is not a perfect best boi , the reason why so many of us like him is that he's imperfect and tries to become better through the course of time. You are once again assuming and I am once again asking you to stop.

Ron might be an ordinary wizard. He might be poor, sure, but he's a pure-blood and won't face much if he chose not to fight. But he did. He fought. Now I identify with Ron's attitude a fair bit, but I am also likely to spend my day in a library without noticing. People aren't one dimensional. Stop trying to act like you're a psychologist, i know you're not. I don't even think Hermione's overbearing at all! You just insulted someone you're a big fan of. Jesus.

Both Hermione and Ron are strategic, jealous, passionate, feisty, argumentative, intellectual...

that's like 6 similarities. They aren't polar opposites in the slightest. Their differences are just: workaholic, not workaholic. Nerd, not a nerd. Like that's fucking it, man!

being relaxed doesn't make you less independent or driven. A relaxed and levelheaded Hermione will think through things, not be impulsive, not panic etc. She doesn't need Ron. I don't understand your obsession with acting like we ever insinuated that. Then she doesn't need Harry either lol. Stop shipping her with Harry, then or like shut the fuck up. Being a bit relaxed won't stop her or anyone from hitting great strides. Just don't get relaxed to the point you're lazy and casual about everything, that's it.

What do you mean? Ron is balanced. He does finish his work on time. And even if he does procrastinate, she could also help him not and be more driven. Of course, this is an open invitation for you to call me a sexist bitch because I said that she could help him and now you'll think her goal is to help him become better yada yada yada. Fuck off. Defeating the horcrux taught him enough. He respected her. He remembered about the elves when she didn't. He begged to be tortured instead of her. He wouldn't need it because school work and jobs are different and the same person might perceive those differently. Calmness and relaxation doesn't hinder your potential. Not caring and laziness does. You can't function if you work and are stressed 24/7 with zero breaks. Period.

10)

No i do not want (nor does anyone want) Hermione to become Ron. Being slightly calmer doesn't change up your personality. I'm sure many people dislike those sort of fanfics without a doubt. I hate OOC and I don't want Hermione to lose her intellect with Ron because that makes no sense. Ron himself is intellectual and loves arguing with her. They'd boost each other, more like it.

-------

okay thats it i am exhausted as fuck. thanks for reading, i appreciate it. notes and reblogs are appreciated, this takes work.

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thran-duils · 3 years

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Use All of Me (P.9)

Title: Use All Of Me (Part Nine) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Steve Rogers. The Avengers are heroes saving the world but in this AU, they are also permitted by the powers in charge to have less than favorable business underneath their guise of mere superheroes. Steve and Tony are at the helm, keeping their empire’s wealth in check, both devious and perilous if crossed. Steve takes a liking to the reader at a party and it may be her undoing to her autonomy choosing to go home with him. Words: 2,440 Warnings: Dark AF, angst, emotional/mental abuse, smut, breeding, death

Part Eight || Part Ten || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Steve was downstairs in the Avengers compound working on something with Bruce. He would not tell you what it was, but you had a feeling it had to do with their drugs. You had overheard him on the phone, which confirmed that they were involved with shady business. He had left you upstairs, letting you mill about on your own. It was nice to be out of the house. You had taken the opportunity to walk outside along the waterfront. It was tranquil by the water away from the building. You wished you had brought some bread to feed the ducks.

Instead of taking the elevator, you had elected to take the stairs back up to the communal areas of the facility.

When you arrived back in the main room, you were breathing heavier than normal. You were already getting winded far easier now, which was annoying. Bucky was in there now and he noticed your discomfort when you walked in. You tried to look normal, but he had already seen it.

“Y/N, here,” he said coming over to you and putting an arm around your shoulder to lead you to the couch. “What happened?”

“I took the stairs,” you told him, laughing uncomfortably. “Not boding well for at home… staircases and all.” You let him sit you down.

“You cut your hair,” you said to Bucky, giving him a small smile.

He ran his hand over his far shorter hair, returning the smile. “You like it?” You nodded. “I was getting tired of the upkeep. Far easier to manage in the shower now.”

Your own hand ran over your stomach – a habit that was becoming common – as you chuckled. “I can imagine. It does look suave though.”

“That’s what I am always going for,” Bucky said jokingly. “Do you want some water?”

“Sure.”

He fetched you some and the two of you made small talk until your breathing and heart rate was back under control.

“I do feel I should work out more. Steve has a gym. I just have only been using the treadmill.”

“You think anything more than a treadmill is smart the further you get into this?”

“People work out all the way up to giving birth,” you told him. “But I’m sure I’ll need to get the okay from Dr. Kamal before Steve agrees to any strength training or the like.”

You stood up to return the glass to the bar, Bucky watching you with caution. You walked past him, stretching out your legs. On the way back to the seating area, you passed the table. It was glowing around the edges and you frowned slightly. Curiosity got the better of you.

Your fingers ran over the table and as Bucky warned, “Y/N, don’t—" suddenly a hologram popped up. You jumped back seeing all these equations you did not recognize. Bucky sighed, pulling you away from it just as a door slammed down the hall and loud voices echoed down the hall to the room the two of you were in. Tony stormed into the room with Clint on his heel.

“I don’t give a shit who gets the blowback! I almost got fucking SHOT, if you happened to miss that!” Tony was practically shouting.

Clint started, “I get that, Tony, but—”

“Who touched that?” Tony barked, turning an accusing look at you and Bucky, cutting Clint off.

The way Bucky slightly stood in front of you, sheltering you from Tony’s melting glare was all he needed. He advanced on the two of you and Bucky pushed you even further behind him.

“The next time you put your hands on something that doesn’t belong to you, I’ll put a bullet between those pretty eyes!”

“Tony!” Bucky barked at him now, standing his ground. “She just touched the table as she was walking by. She wasn’t snooping. Back off!”

Straightening up, Tony had a stare off with Bucky, the tension in the room thick.

Tearing his gaze away from Bucky, Tony told you, “Sorry. I’m not frustrated with you.” He whipped around and looked at Clint again. “Who I am frustrated with is that idiot.” He clicked something on the table, turning it off, the hologram disappearing.

“You already killed him,” Clint pointed out. “I don’t know what more you want to do to him.”

“Defile the body? Chop it up?” Tony suggested wildly as he strode over to the bar. He grabbed a bottle of Wild Turkey and poured himself a healthy amount. He took a long drink before smacking his lips and leaning on the counter. The other three of you were watching him with unease, wondering what he was going to do next. After a few moments, he looked up and demanded, “Where the hell is Nat?”

“She was making sure the shipment got through,” Clint answered.

“I know that,” Tony said strained. “But where is she now?”

“Hopefully on her way back.”

“What happened?” Bucky finally ventured to ask.

Tony snarled, “Adrian was trying to get some revenge. We gave him a fucking chance to work for us and he decided that wasn’t going to work for him. Well, now his face is kicked the fuck in, thanks to yours truly. You know, I am ready to just wipe out the rest of his stupid little shit stain of a crew – his fiancé included because if that little bitch tries to squeal—”

“Tony,” Clint said sharply, catching his attention. “Y/N doesn’t need to hear shit like that.”

Waving at you wildly, Tony snapped, “She’s in it now. She’s gonna hear shit sometimes. Right, sweetheart?” He directed the last at you and your mouth fell open, unsure of what he wanted you to say.

“Um, yes?”

“Right. See, Clint? I’m sure Steve has said some shit in front of her too. It happens. I’ve done it to Pepper plenty of times. They’re the side pieces. Which is why his bitch needs to get gone. Now. She’s a liability.”

Bucky tried this time, “We can talk about that later. You just need to relax. Have some more whiskey.”

Tony shook his head at them trying to shut him up, but he did all the same, taking another large gulp of his whiskey.

You sat back down slowly, resting back on the couch, taking in what you had just heard. You knowing even the slightest about their operation made you a liability apparently. It made whatever Bryce said the other day truer: you would have the whole team after you if you tried to leave and they would want to find you because they would not want you to talk about anything. It compounded the risk of running away.

Tony refilled his glass and came over to the couch, sitting down near you. “You mind if I turn on the TV?” You shook your head and he chucked you underneath the chin. “Good girl. I just need to watch some people knock the shit out of each other. There was a fight card last night and I missed it.”

Natasha appeared, closely followed by Bruce and Steve. She looked upset and Tony held up his finger. She stopped, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Uh uh. The three here got me calmed down, stopping me from exploding my artificial heart. I need a few. Just tell me yes or no, did the shipment go through?”

“Yes.”

“Perfect. I will discuss the bullshit later. I need a little bit of time before we plot on the next move. Actually, if you have questions, Barton or Barnes can take you out into the hall and give you the basics of what I want to do. Y/N and I can sit in here and watch Holloway hopefully knock this joker out.”

You locked eyes with Steve and gave him a slight shrug, sinking back down into the couch. His hand rested on your shoulder as he leaned down to give you a kiss on the top of your head.

“I’ll be back then, love,” he said before following Bucky out of the room.

<> <> <>

‘This is going to be your favorite!” Yua announced.

“Is it from you then?” you teased.

Natalie and Yua had arranged a baby shower for you. When they brought up the idea, you had proposed to Steve it be done here at home. He was more receptive to the idea presented that way. You had pushed your luck, suggesting he should not be home while the party was going on, mentioning it was a baby shower, typically for the ladies. You believed he was relieved you were excited about the idea at all, extending it towards the idea of being a mother, because he agreed quite heartily.

He was not quiet about it to the team, and you found yourself having three more guests added to the list: Natasha, Pepper, and Wanda. You were surprised at Natasha, she did not seem the type to enjoy such a get together but you kept that to yourself. She had been enjoying herself well enough, passing Natalie, exchanging looks.

Your friends insisted on you staying upstairs while they decorated and only allowed you to come down once they were finished.

Yua smirked, “Maybe.”

You laughed in return, opening the gift, the one of many more to go.

A little while later, you managed to pull Natalie aside while everyone was distracted with passing out prizes for a game. She followed you away from the room and let you lead her to the bathroom. You closed the door behind the two of you and turned around quickly.

“Can I use your phone?”

“Sure,” Natalie said, looking at you curiously but handed it over.

Googling, you tried to see the time it would take if you were to follow through with what you wanted to do. In seconds, your hope was dashed.

It was three hours at least – and that was with good traffic – to Grand Central Station. There was no way you would be able to get there in time before Steve realized you were missing. Even if you managed to knock Bryce and Patricia out with sleeping pills, Steve would more than likely check in and see them unresponsive.

You numbly handed the phone back to Natalie.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, seeing the look on your face.

“It’s nothing.”

“Y/N.”

Tears welled up and you wiped at your eyes, shaking your head. “If I tell you it will wrap you into it and I don’t want that. I don’t want you to be unsafe.”

She grasped your shoulders and forced you to look at her. “Y/N,” she repeated. “What’s wrong?”

“I just…he – Steve – wants 5 or 6 kids,” you told Natalie tearfully. Her eyes widened in shock and you hissed, “I know!”

“He said that?”

You nodded. “I haven’t even had the first two.”

“Did he even ask you what you thought about it?”

You shook your head now. “Of course not.”

Natalie’s shoulders fell and you sighed heavily, wiping at your eyes again, “He loves me. I know he does in the form he believes it to be true. But it’s… it’s suffocating. I can’t eat anything not approved for my health by my nutritionist and the babies healths. I didn’t have any say in that, he made that decision for me. I don’t leave without him and if I want to, I have to tell him where I’m going so he knows where to go if something ‘goes wrong’ and he can find me quickly. I’m afraid to google anything that might be suspicious because I’m afraid he’s going to ask to check my phone. He hasn’t ever but the fear is there if he ever got suspicious, you know?”

Slowly, Natalie said, “No. I don’t know. that’s not normal, Y/N.”

“Right. And I mean, he forced me to move in with him, sell my apartment, he quit my job for me—”

“Hold on. He did that?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you wanted that.”

“Are you joking me? I told him I could work. I’m pregnant, not disabled I believe were my exact words. And he said he didn’t want me working and I was going to end up not working at all anyway if I was with him.” Natalie rose her eyebrows and you shrugged helplessly. “I…I wanted to leave. I asked Bryce – my security – first and he told me he wouldn’t help me and made me promise I wouldn’t try to leave. So, then I wanted to take a train. Somewhere. Anywhere. It would be hard to track a train route if I took someone’s ticket at the station rather than being on camera and buying my own. I could manage on my own. Find a church to take me in and I could work to make up for their hospitality. I don’t know. That’s why I wanted to see your phone. See how far away it was.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a plan, Y/N.”

You burst into tears and she immediately grabbed your shoulders. “Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“It’s not rude, it’s true. I’m… fucked!”

“If you’re that miserable—”

“I’m not miserable all the time,” you cut in.

“But you want to leave.”

“Yes, but more so I want to be able to breathe! If I could just do that…” you breathed shakily. “If he gave me space, I would be satisfied. I would be okay being with him. I just don’t see it happening… and I hate it because I still want it to work as I want to run away at the same time.” Rubbing your stomach, you looked around the bathroom. Sniffling, you said, “All the baby gifts are so nice. I could make the best of this.” You cradled your stomach closer, and said, “You don’t have to say it. I know you warned me. I was just smitten… so very smitten. And he was so sweet. I didn’t care about the danger.”

Natalie pulled you into a tight hug, cradling you close, electing to stay quiet.

<> <> <>

Outside the bathroom window, Natasha ground her teeth. She had been doing rounds around the grounds, wanting to get air from the tittering women inside. The bushes had done enough to hide her from sight. She heard Y/N and Natalie speaking and gotten curious why they were both in the bathroom. When she was able to hear clearly, Y/N was talking about having to sell her apartment because Steve ‘forced’ her too.

Natasha left the bushes when they fell silent, careful to not make any noise.

~~~

Tags: @imsonick , @alexakeyloveloki, @kvzctam, @ironlady1993, @taintedgenre, @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters

#steve rogers x reader #dark!steve rogers #dark steve rogers #marvel fic #dark marvel fic #my shit

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moonyblackwerewolf · 3 years

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The Letter Ch. 3 - Sirius Black

Betrothed Ch. 3

Sirius Black x fem!Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: Sirius and Y/N meet at a family dinner and have some fun, later she finds out she is betrothed to some pureblood boy so Sirius comes up with a mental idea to save them both.

Warnings: Kissing, hints of sex, 'aggressive' parents, underage drinking, idk my writing and English? lol

a/n: I don't really know how i feel about this, so i hope you guys like it. Feedback is always welcome too :)

Xxxx

Ch.1 Ch.2 Ch. 2.5 Ch.3 Ch.4 Ch. 5

The exams were now over, Y/N and Lily were at the Great Hall eating breakfast, the smell of bacon and fruits invading their noses, they could enjoy the morning Saturday sun and the pancakes without worrying about the exams.

“What did you think about the Potions test? I can’t stop thinking about that last question I think got it wrong” Lily mumbled while picking up an apple.

“Oh Lils, you are so cute” Y/N laughed at her friend’s worries. “I can’t remember, but we can go to library today and check, but I’m sure you got it right, Slughorn has his reasons for inventing you for his little club” Y/N/N pointed out and Lily nodded, while looking at her sister who was staring suspiciously at her “At least you got in for pure talent, not because he wanted to suck up to your father” she chuckled, trying to avoid her sister’s gaze.

“That’s a lie, you’re one of the best Potions student Y/N/N i’m sure you-” Lily was cut off by Diana standing by her sister’s side.

“Got your mail yet Y/N/N? I’m so delighted for you, when Mother and Father told me I started planning the party already, Slytherin common room Sunday 8 p.m, also if you need help getting your hair done you can ask me.” Y/N was scared, her sister was never this nice to her, something was going on.

“Why Sunday?” But she was interrupted.

As if Diana knew when the letter would arrive, an Elegant snowy owl showed up carrying a letter from her parents. “What’s that” she was now genuinely scared as she saw Lucius looking at her from the Slytherin table. Lily who has calmed her down on several sleepless nights after the Malfoy incident looked between the two girl worried, connecting the dots about the letter’s content, as her friend read the letter and stormed out of the Hall. Lily tried to follow her but she just vanished. She looked for Y/N everywhere but she seemed to be nowhere to be found, she was feeling scared and even desperate, what could’ve made Y/N so upset, her family of course, but what did they do?

Y/N was in the only place in the castle Lily didn’t look for, the Hufflepuff common room, her friend Amos Diggory, a handsome boy, who would was loyal and would do anything for his friends, let her in and stay in his room, since it was Saturday and everyone was outside. She laid in his bed, heart racing threatening to jump off her chest, she felt sick and completely and utterly alone and unloved, she felt stuck in a life she never asked for and an inevitable future, this feeling of despair was too much for her to hold, like she would always do. Y/N buried her faced in Amos’ pillow and cries the life out of her, she couldn’t believe and in the same time she always knew this would happen, but it didn’t make it all less painful.

“Hi” Amos knocked on the room’s door delicately earning a jump from the girl. “I’m sorry, but you seem like someone who desperately needs a friend” he said with a sympathetic smile.

She smiled warmly at the boy and let him sit by her side, he offered her his shoulder to cry on, soothing the girl, even though he didn’t know why she was so sad. Eventually she told him everything and he was as disgusted as she was, his heart ached for his friend, he couldn’t imagine what was like to have her parents and go through what she was. He could only help.

“You should go tell your friends, they never leave your side, they’ll probably want to know about this, you should trust them Y/N/N” he suggested with a reassuring smile, wrapping her in a hug. Y/N loved that on Amos, he was so sweet and helpful and never asked for anything in return, he was a true Hufflepuff, she always teased him.

“But I don’t want them to worry, it’s not really easy for me to trust people and it’s nothing really, I don’t want to be dramatic” she sighed looking troubled.

“Y/N/N, i can assure you, you’re not being dramatic” he paused looking at her with a concerned smile “You have all the right to be upset, i’d be too in your situation, i’d demand justice for me and the other person too, it’s not fair, but you should tell your friends, they must be really worried”

“You’re right badger, thank you for letting me stay here, if you ever need something you know where to find me” she mumbled quietly still trying to hold her tears desperately.

It was nighttime by the time she was heading to the Gryffindor tower. The marauders were at the empty Gryffindor common room, they had just finished packing and were siting by the fireplace talking, Lily looking worried whispering to herself places she might’ve forgotten to search, when y/n entered the room the girl stood up fast and wrapped her in the tightest hug she could give only letting her friend go after her arms became sore, y/n mumbled a thank you hugging Lily again and then gave Sirius a kiss on the cheek and laid on his chest, she was looking completely broken, that made the boys get concerned too.

“Hey guys” she said with voice of someone who has been crying. Sirius started caressing her hair, the group was now completely quiet until.

“Y/n-” Remus Lupin said softly “What’s wrong? Have you been crying?” His question made everyone look at her and she shifted in her Sirius lap a bit, his hands still caressing her hair patiently waiting for her answer, Lily was sitting next to them in the sofa, she grabbed her friend’s hand reassuringly.

“I got this letter from my parents today- at breakfast” she said, her voice completely numb she sounded like someone who had abandoned all hope. She then took a letter with a fancy wax seal with an “W” from her coat, she couldn’t say it so she handed it to Sirius. The seal was already broken from when she read it earlier and the parchment had stains that suggested crying, he started reading the letter, Lily peaking too, while the other boys were curious and he’s blood was boiling with anger.

He stood up abruptly and screamed “No way they're making you do this- Over my dead body, Y/n”. Sirius’ reaction startled the boys, but he was so angry he didn’t even notice James taking the letter and reading it aloud.

Dear Y/n,

Your father and i are delighted to inform you that after a few meetings with family friends, we have decided, together with the Malfoys, that you and their son, Lucius, are now engaged and the marriage will happen soon after your graduation.

Lucius has already talked with his parents and he is more than happy for taking your hand in matrimony if you accept him, in our meeting with Abraxas Malfoy this evening, he has told us how Lucius cares about and wants to protect you. Therefore we were shocked to hear that you’ve been spending many nights in the Gryffindor tower and been ignoring your fellow housemates including Lucius.

In light of theses events we’ve decided that you will be spending Christmas break in the Malfoy manor, so you and Lucius can seal each other’s promise contract and get used to each other and future married life.

Now Y/n, you are going to listen very carefully what i’m going to tell you, young lady, you are going to behave AND accept this proposal, the Malfoys are a very respectful pureblood family, they were extremely delighted to know about your interest in their son. The Watson name carries weight in our world, I don’t want you doing anything that could compromise that. Now you are going to sleep every night of the rest of your years at Hogwarts in the Slytherin dorms, we already talked with Lucius and he is going to stay with you the whole night if necessary.

With Love,

Charles Edward Watson and Louise Helena Watson

“Holy shit y/n/n” James gasped “I’m so sorry, I can’t believe your parents would do that” he paused pondering if he should joke or not, and figured it could help “but is that their way of making you shag Malfoy?, Godric they’ don’t even try to be subtle” y/n chuckled humourlessly.

“Really? because I do, that’s what all these crazy purists families do, they breed their children, they don’t care about love or anything of the sort, I can’t believe how much time I spent putting up with their shit, pretending to agree with them” she hissed starting to sound more angry, she couldn’t believe it herself she just couldn't admit.

“Y/n we won’t let that happen” Remus reassured her grabbing other her hand “we’ll do anything to help you” all the boys and Lily agreed, except for Sirius that was on a weird kind of angry trance. Lily jumped from her seat and hugged her best friend with all the love she could give again.

She was happy to see her friends helping her, she didn’t feel as alone as she felt this morning, but still, reality was rough, she’d have to marry that prick Lucius Malfoy that she and the Marauders hated so much, he was a real blood purist just like their parents and that made her feel suffocated.

Suddenly Sirius burst out of his trance and went to his dorm, which scared the remaining group on the common room, making Y/n follow him. The common room went silent. After she left they sighed “I can’t believe she’s having to go through that, she doesn’t deserve it, this year she’s been nothing but a good friend, she even helped you study Moony and she became your best friend Lily, we all know you talk about us when you’re alone” James sighed “I wish we could do something for her”.

“Yes, we sure do Potter” Lily shrugged a bit absentmindedly, wondering what was happening in the other room.

“Siri, what’s going on with you?” She asked a bit startled by his sudden weirdness, while standing in the threshold. He was searching for something frenetically in his trunk. “What are you searching for Sirius?”

“Y/n/n- Y/n” he turned to her seriously “there’s no way i’m letting you marry Malfoy” he stared so deep into her eyes that she felt a shiver run down her spine.

“Thanks you Sirius, I love you for that, but there's nothing me or you can do to help, believe me i’ve been trying to find a way out since i read that letter, but there isn’t” she sighed her voice cracking “All I can do is enjoy the little time i’ve left before i’m Mrs. Malfoy” she ran her hand in her face and looked at Sirius “But I appreciate your efforts” Sirius made his way to where she was and caressed her cheeks looking at her with a determination Y/n couldn’t understand.

“I’m going to do everything i can to help you- even if I’ll have ask my monster of a mother for help” he revealed.

“What?” She gasped, surprised and confused at his revelation to say the least.

“I hate to say it out loud but- I’m still a Black, from the Noble house of Black” He paused and Y/n began to catch up with his plan, still a little shocked “I bet it’ll be easy to convince my mom, if i Sirius Black, her hopeless case of a son, tell her he wants to marry Elena Watson the daughter of the Royal house of Watson, she would finally be at least pleased with me”

“WHAT?! No way Sirius, no- no! absolutely not” she almost choked on her words, shock written all over her face. “I’m not letting you ruin your life for me! No way! Do you even know what you’d be doing? You’d be committing yourself for the rest of your life and you know your parents AND mine wouldn’t let us divorce till the day they die at least! There is no going back and they certainly won’t let us escape, never” She was not going to let him ruin his life too.

“I know that perfectly well, but would it be that bad? we’re best friends and it’s not like we never slept together before” Y/n was in shock, left without words, Sirius Black wanting to commit with someone, he truly was a good friend but she looked at him with a gaze that said ‘no’ “Y/n… if you don’t accept this, then i’ll help you escape” he grabbed her hand and held it tightly in his chest, for a moment he wondered what about it made him feel so angry, angrier than the other boys, he felt this urge to protect her so much it almost hurt “I- just- i can’t stand seeing you suffering from this and being forced to sleep in the same bed as Malfoy- it makes me so angry, i want to protect you- I promised I would protect you, you’ve became one of my best friends this year I can’t let you go through this” he was looking at her with desperate eyes, almost imploring her to let him help her, it made Y/n’s heart jump from her chest.

“I don’t know what to do Sirius” her eyes were filling up with tears again, she was trying hard not to cry, as a wave of courage hit her and made her stop, she needed to grow up. “But I can’t escape my home, my parents would find me and probably-” she paused reconsidering if telling Sirius about her parents’ ways of parenting was a good idea, remembering Amos’ words, but even though she decided against it, she didn’t want him to worry more then he already was “I’m going to be okay, everything’s going to be fine. I’m going home and i’ll tell my parents that i won’t oblige, that I won’t be a pawn on their sick game of blood purity” she finished, more determined than she had been during the day, knowing that it’d be a foolish mistake, but it was confrontation or marriage.

“Are you sure Y/n? You want me to go with you?” He asked concerned, not feeling confident in her idea, it seemed dangerous and reckless, normally he’d love a little danger, but the fact that she could get hurt made him opposed to it.

“Yes, you don’t need to come with me, I think its better if I go alone, my parents can get- irritated. I’ll send you letters and i’ll keep you updated i promise” with that she kissed his cheek.

“Y/n/n are you really sure? I don’t think it’s- I don’t know your parents but I know mine and they wouldn’t react really well if I confronted them that way” Y/n knew what Sirius meant, but she had to try, so she whispered a yes burying her head in his neck as he wrapped her in a tight hug.

They both returned to the common room, updating their friends about what had happened and then they tried to have a pleasant last day at Hogwarts, the boys reassured Y/n even more and promised they’d be there for her if she ever needs them. The rest of the day they tried to forget all of their problems and talked, James kept trying to invite Lily out and she kept saying no while everyone laughed at the boy, Y/n laid in Sirius’s chest enjoying this little interactions while she still could. Sirius’ plan never left the back of his mind, he wasn’t sure if she’d be able to convince the Watsons, they didn’t strike him as understanding people. Little did he know how right he was.

The next day went by fast, everyone finished packing and met at the train station. The group left the Hogwarts Express and entered platform 9 3/4 everyone said their goodbyes, hugging and wishing Y/n worried good lucks, then heading to their respective families.

“I wish you could meet my family, Y/n/n, expect my sister, she’d be mean to you” Lily pouted as Y/n hugged her tightly for the last time in two weeks. “I’m gonna write you ok? with the names we planned” the both best friends chuckled, they had created nicknames so Y/n’s parents wouldn’t suspect about Lily.

“Oh Lils thank you, I’m gonna miss you so much, wish you could visit me” Y/n whispered sadly leaving Lily’s embrace after she said she would miss her too, heading to Sirius.

“Hey beautiful” Sirius murmured while wrapping her in a hug and lifting her making her laugh. “Wanna meet mommy and daddy Black, they’ll love you?”

“Of course” she chuckled in his lap, being so close to him made her heart jump faster, she didn’t want to let go, never “And of course they will, how could they not like me” she joked.

Sirius put her in the ground slowly, heart jumping too, grabbed her wrist and the two of them walked to where his parents and brother were waiting, he hated his parents but he wanted an excuse to spend more time with her. “Mother, Father, this is Y/n Watson” he mocked his parents, who were clearly shocked their son had perhaps grown some sense into his head.

“Miss Watson, what a pleasure to see you again, darling, how are your parents doing?” Mr. and Mrs. Black asked politely. Walburga was a tall raven haired woman with an elegant appearance and stern face, she was quite scary, Mr. Black looked just like his wife but older and more serious.

“Suck ups” Sirius whispered in her ears making her giggle, she could feel his breath against her ear and it made her shiver.

“They’re alright, thank you Mr. Black, how are you?” Y/n asked, looking so much like her mother that it scared Sirius, he had to hide his laugh.

Before Mr. Black answered, Mr. and Mrs. Watson showed up, with angry faces. Mrs. Watson grabbed Y/n’s wrist strongly making her wince, pushing her to their side.

“Walburga, Orion, what a pleasure to see you” Mr. Watson offered his hand to the couple, softening his face a little, Mrs. Watson smiled, while whispering.

“Y/n, where is Lucius? Haven’t you been seeing him? You should be here with him young lady” her mother hissed at her, angry with the lack of effort from her daughter to make the marriage happen.

Sirius looked at Y/n’s wrist and suspected, he felt angry at Mrs. Watson, something was wrong, but he couldn’t do anything in front of their parents, so he just looked reassuringly at her.

“Pleasure to see you too Charles, we hope to see you and Louise at the Rosiers later this week” Mrs. Black politely suggested.

“Of course” with that the Watsons said goodbye and the both families headed their separate ways, breaking Sirius’ and Y/n’s grasp on each other.

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elliemarchetti · 3 years

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The Most Macabre of Scenes, The Most Terrible of Nightmares

As I hope the few souls reading this have already guessed, requests are open for anything on LOTR and The Hobbit. However, in this chapter the journey of the Fellowship continues, but various shadows loom over their safety and the hearts of its members.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Words: 2643

The attack was short and violent, but fortunately no one was injured. It was about midnight on their eighth day of travel when the Orcs stroke, a raid planned down to the last detail, one might say, as they had took advantage of the current, the crescent moon that lit up the sky and the abundance of strangely bright stars, reflecting like torches on the River’s surface. Their black-feathered arrows had fallen like lethal rain upon the Fellowship, but except for a few torn cloaks, there had been no damage. Hidden among the ferns of the western shore, as awake as they could be, everyone thought about what they saw in the sky after their enemies had unexpectedly retreated, trying to give a name to the great winged creature, blacker than the pits of the night, which had emerged from the south. Fierce voices rose up to greet it from across the water, and Elva could still feel the chills running through her and clutching at her heart, deadly cold like the memory of an old wound. She had killed it, with a single shot from the bow she had received as a gift in Lorien, but she was sure there were others, and she wanted nothing more than to get as far away as possible from that irreparably corrupted land. After that vision, Haldir had no longer spoken, but he was frowning and his mind was probably in Lothlorien, lost in calculating how long such a beast would take to reach the ends of the mallorn’s forest. Lying next to him, Elva wished she was able to say out loud that he could return, if he wished, that no one would’ve wanted him any harm for placing his homeland before a mission that didn’t even belonged to him, and that Galadriel herself would’ve probably been grateful for the warning, but selfishly, she couldn’t, so she hugged tighter her knees under the cloak, a reassurance and a way to fight the changing of the weather. When the day came, the mood of the world about them had become soft and sad. Slowly the dawn grew to a pale light, diffused and shadowless. There was mist on the River, and white fog swathed the shore, making the far bank impossible to see.

“I can’t abide fog,” said Sam, “but this seems to be a lucky one: now perhaps we can get away without those cursed goblins seeing us.”

“Perhaps so,” said Aragorn. “But it will be hard to find the path unless the fog lifts a little later on, and we must, if we are to pass Sarn Gebir and come to the Emyn Muil.”

“I don’t see why we should pass the Rapids or follow the River any further,” said Boromir. “If the Emyn Muil lie before us, then we can abandon these cockle-boats and strike westward and southward, until we come to the Entwash and cross into my own land.”

“We can, if we are making for Minas Tirith,” said Aragorn, “but that’s not yet agreed, and such a course may be more perilous than it sounds: the Entwash’s vale is flat and fenny, fog a deadly peril for those on foot and laden. I wouldn’t abandon our boats until we must, for the River is at least a path that cannot be missed.”

“But the Enemy holds the eastern bank,” objected Boromir, “and even if you pass the Gates of Argonath, coming unmolested to the Tindrock, what will you do then? Leap down the Falls and land in the marshes?”

The tones were heating up, and Elva thought it was time to intervene: “It’s not the way of the Men of Minas Tirith to desert their friends at need, and we’ll need your strength, if ever we are to reach the Tindrock.”

The mortal seemed satisfied with those words, and decided he would go as far as the tall isle, but no further.

“There I shall turn to my home,” he announced, “alone if my help hasn’t earned the reward of any companionship.”

Elva prayed that someone had decided to pursue that mission, but in order to keep an army as powerful as that of Boromir's father, if everyone chose to follow Aragorn, she would be the one to separate from the rest of the companions, this decided a long time ago, perhaps at the very moment Gandalf had chosen her for the Quest. That gloomy possibility, which was so far from her ideals, prompted her to wait for the mist to rise in silence, even as she and Haldir went exploring forward along the shore, while the others remained by the boats. She hoped to find some way by which they could carry everything to the smoother water beyond the Rapids, but even if the elven boats wouldn’t sink, that didn’t ensure they could come through Sarn Gebir alive, for none ever done so yet, and no road was made by the Men of Gondor in this region, for even in their great days their realm didn’t reach up Anduin beyond the Emyn Muil.

“There is a portage-way somewhere on the western shore, if I can find it,” revealed Haldir, so softly that for a moment Elva hardly noticed.

"I didn't tell the others," the elf went on, "because I was afraid they wouldn't believe me, after my miscalculations pushed us towards the Orcs attack; besides, I fought those creatures for a good part of my own adult life, and I could’ve imagined their simple but ingenious plan."

"No one was injured, that's the important thing," Elva replied, thinking that if anyone had risked being hit, it would’ve been him, as an arrow had ripped off both the cloak and the skin of the jacket from his shoulders.

"But if that had happened, the fault would’ve been mine alone, and whoever had accused me, even if only in grief, would’ve been right: you have already lost the Istar, and before I should’ve warned Aragorn it wasn’t wise to continue at night as he suggested, but I didn't, and now I don't want to deceive anyone until I’m sure that my memory doesn’t deceive me," he replied, resolute in the bitterness of someone who can't forgive himself.

"Why are you telling me, then?" Elva asked, unable to stop.

"Because I'm sure I can trust you, and I know you’ve faced the guilt, same or not, even if I still don’t know what you’re carrying it for,” he replied, with a naked and vulnerable honesty, which hit right to the point. She didn't like talking about her past, much less what she felt about it, yet he must’ve seen a difficult life in her eyes, a life that perhaps could’ve been more like his, if only she had been born in another realm. Like Lorien, Mirkwood was a wonderful but tricky place, where growing up as a half-breed wasn't easy at all, especially when you needed to do it by yourself. Getting to know Legolas, and later becoming his confidant and friend, had been a blessing, and she kept telling herself that her true life had begun the day a young prince was bewitched by the ability of a simple recruit with a bow and with words. She hadn't treated him well, weary as every orphan is, and perhaps that was precisely what had intrigued him, since at court no one spoke to him as an equal, much less had the courage to say what they really though, too busy trying to win the future king’s favours, since with the one in charge was so hard. Speaking of Thranduil, he had welcomed her as if she were his own daughter, instructing and having her instructed in the best possible way; but the king was a cold and distant father, rigid in his manner and limited in his displays of affection, not exactly what a girl without parents desires most. If loving Legolas as a brother had been simple, as natural as breathing and almost a matter of survival, the same couldn't be said of the oldest of the Greenleafs, but she had learned that too, and with it the art of concealing her heart, although with Haldir it was so difficult.

"And how can I know I should have the same trust in you?" she asked, her heart heavy. She needed to believe that he wouldn’t leave the Fellowship, even if she followed Boromir and everyone else went by water, and she needed to know if he would understand her decision, or if he would end up misinterpreting it.

"You can't, but to convince you otherwise, I'll tell you something that I'm sure should’ve remained a secret: Galadriel's Mirror showed me three visions, three possible futures, I find myself believing. I still don't want to talk about two, because it doesn't seem wise, but the most macabre of scenes, the most terrible of nightmares that I thought I could have, I feel like sharing: I don't know if the Fellowship had failed in its intent, or if it's the fate that awaits my homeland anyway, if events should take that turn, but darkness had fallen over the forest of golden trees when a flock of huge winged creatures, like the one you killed last night, swept over Calas Galadhon. The Lord and the Lady fought side by side with every common citizen, and a shower of arrows capable of obscuring the stars was sent from each talan towards the sky. I don't know how the battle could end, as my vision was limited to that, but I have seen you fight with us, and defend our young and old as if they were your own. I don't pretend to understand what those images meant, and why the Mirror decided to show them to me, but I believe it was the beginning of Lorien's Winter, the first day of a downhill road to inevitable ruin, yet you were there by our side, and I don't think you'd fight for the land of someone you don’t trust,” he concluded, just as enigmatic as his ruler. Did he meant he understood her malfidence towards the Galadhrim, or was it really just his way of assuming that she would always trust him, to the point of risking death for a place that did not belong to her? There was no way of knowing but asking, and it didn't seem appropriate, fearing that he too might ask her what the Mirror had shown her. Death, she might’ve replied, no matter it was the mallorn’s, his people’s or Haldir’s himself, but she didn't want to talk about it anymore, she just wanted to forget his pale skin in the moonlight, the dust, sweat and blood surrounding her like a sea that smelled of the Enemy's wickedness instead of salt, so she fell silent.

“It cannot yet have perished,” muttered Haldir under his breath, after a while. “Light boats used to journey out of Wilderland down to Osgiliath, and still did so until a few years ago, when the Orcs of Mordor began to multiply.”

“Even if we find the path, peril will grow with every mile we go forward, for it lies ahead on every southward road,” replied Elva

They found what they were looking for just before noon, with the head of the Rapids half a mile below them: a track leading to a good landing, a little more than a mile long, was still serviceable, not far beyond the stream clear and smooth again, though running swiftly. The hardest task was to get the boats and baggage to the old portage-way, lying well back from the water-side near which they were camped, and running under the lee of a rock-wall, a furlong or more from the shore. “I fear we must leave the River now, and make for the portage-way as best we can from here,” said Haldir, once back.

“That wouldn’t be easy, even if we were all Men,” said Boromir.

“Yet such as we are we will try it,” Aragorn replied peremptorily.

“We will!” confirmed Gimli, and although the task was difficult, it was nevertheless completed, the goods taken out of the boats and brought to the top of the bank, where there was a level space, and the boats themselves drawn out of the water and carried up, proving to be far less heavy than any had expected; at last, all was removed to be laid on the portage-way and with little further hindrance, save from sprawling briars and many fallen stones, they moved forward all together. Fog still hung in veils upon the crumbling rock-wall, and to their left mist shrouded the River: they could hear it rushing and foaming over the sharp shelves and stony teeth of Sarn Gebir, but they couldn't see it. There the portage-way, turning back to the water-side, ran gently down to the shallow edge of a little pool scooped in the river-side, not by hand, but by the water swirling down from Sarn Gebir against a low pier of rock that jutted out some way into the stream. Beyond it the shore rose sheer into a grey cliff, and there was no further passage for those on foot. Already the short afternoon was past, and a dim cloudy dusk was closing in. Sitting beside the water, they listened to the confused rush and roar of the Rapids hidden in the mist; they were tired and sleepy, and their hearts were as gloomy as the dying day at the thought of spending there another night, even if it seemed inevitable, given the general fatigue. Luckily, nothing worse than a brief drizzle of rain an hour before dawn happened, and as soon as it was fully light and the fog was thinning, they started. Keeping as close as they could to the western side, they saw the dim shapes of the low cliffs rising ever higher, shadowy walls with their feet in the hurrying river. In the mid-morning the clouds drew down lower, and it began to rain heavily, forcing them to drew the skin-covers over their boats to prevent them from being flooded and drifted on; little could be seen before or about them through the grey falling curtains but it didn’t last long, the sky above growing lighter and suddenly opening, dismissing fogs and mists too. Before the travellers lay a wide ravine, with great rocky sides to which clung, upon shelves and in narrow crevices, a few trees; as they sped along with little hope of stopping or turning, whatever might meet ahead, Elva peered forward, seeing in the distance two great rocks approaching. Like pinnacles or pillars of stone they stood, tall, sheer and ominous, creating a narrow gap among which the boats could only pass one by one. They were the Argonath, the Pillars of the Kings, vast grey figures silent but threatening, shaped and fashioned as two great kings of stone with blurred eyes and crannied brows frowning upon the North. The left hand of each was raised palm outwards in gesture of warning, while in each right hand there was an axe and upon each head there was a crumbling helm and crown. Great power and majesty they still wore, the silent wardens of a long-vanished Kingdom, instilling awe and fear in the Fellowship travelling in boats frail and fleeting as little leaves, under the enduring shadow of the sentinels of Numenor. Passing into the dark chasm of the Gates, sheer rose the dreadful cliffs on either side, while the black waters roared and echoed, and a wind screamed over them. What a horrible place it was, but it must’ve been even worse for Aragorn, a king in exile who was finally returning to his land only to see it filled with the noise of wind, rushing water and echoing stone.

#haldir x fem oc #haldir of lothlorien #aragorn #frodo baggins #sam gamgee #boromir #gandalf the grey #galadriel #legolas greenleaf #thranduil greenleaf #gimli son of gloin #lotr #the fellowship of the ring

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e350tb · 3 years

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The Owl House: A Blight on Gravesfield (Chapter Two)

Two

Luz wakes up.

So, ten Puritans walk into Connecticut. Sounds like the start of a joke, doesn’t it?

To be fair, ‘Puritans’ might not be the right word here. Most of them were, certainly, like Goodfaith Smathers, and the excellently named The-Lord-Shall-Damn-Ye-Sinners Marlowe, who seems to have insisted on his full name being used in all conversation. But then there’s the pair we’ll be talking about today, Philip and John Wittelsbane.

You’ve all seen the statue, I’m sure, but nearly all the ‘common knowledge’ about them is actually false.

See, in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth century, the Wittlesbanes were big on the whole ‘family history’ thing, but not so much on the whole ‘truth telling’ thing. The story that John Wittelsbane personally chose the site of Gravesfield, and that he personally converted a local Pequot village to Christianity? There’s no evidence of that, and indeed it seems very unlikely, because John was sixteen at the time, and Smathers was the real leader of the exhibition.

Of course, Smathers died in the Pequot War, and The-Lord-Shall-Blah-Blah-Blah Marlowe went out from smallpox in 1639. The others were illiterate, so most of the records of early Gravesfield come from the Wittelsbanes. So it’s very easy for their family to pretend they were more important than they actually were.

Now, in 1642, something very big happens. It doesn’t happen in America, but it’s effects cross the Atlantic. Can anyone tell me what that is?

The Thirty Years War? Close, that was just about ending at this time. Any other guesses?

That’s right, the English Civil War! Or the War of the Three Kingdoms, as some call it today. To put it simply, you had the Cavaliers supporting the King on one side, and the Roundheads supporting Parliament on the other. It’s a gross oversimplification but it’s all you really need to know for this class.

A sixth of all the men in New England went back to England to fight for Parliament, and most people generally supported the Roundheads. Most people. Do you remember what I said about dissenters? Fascinating people with bizarre names, like Fifth Monarchists and Muggletonians. Some of them were very egalitarian, at least for the time.

It seems the Wittelsbanes got themselves mixed up in a particularly weird form of dissension. In 1645, Philip starts writing a lot about witches - but not in the same way that someone like, for example, Matthew Hopkins, Witchfinder-General in England, might have. This wasn’t fear; it was curiosity. He and John began to believe that magic was a gift from Christ.

This was a privately held belief of cause. The war was breeding suspicion in the Puritan populace of Connecticut, and in 1647, something happened in that colony. Something that would set the course for a split between the Wittelsbane brothers that would never be healed.

It was the beginning of the Connecticut Witch Trials.

---------

It was storming in earnest now, the wind shaking the house as the sounds of driving rain pounded on the windows. It was dark enough that Camila had had to turn the lights on, although the artificial light did little to abate the sense of gloom that hung over the house.

They had moved Luz and the other girl into Camila’s bedroom - there was more room to lay them down on the bed. That had been about an hour ago, and Camila was getting more than a little restless. She sat on her chair, facing away from her desk, rapping on the wood with her fingers. Vee paced by the door, looking no less antsy.

“We should call an ambulance,” declared Camila at last.

“What’re we gonna tell them?” asked Vee.

“I… I don’t know,” replied Camila, “But…”

There was a cough.

Camila’s eyes widened as Luz slowly began to sit up, rubbing her head.

“...man, I feel like I got hit by a truck…”

“Luz!”

Camila leapt out of her chair and darted over to her daughter, instinctively pulling her into a hug.

“Cariño, I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said, her voice breaking. “I was so worried! I…”

“M-mom?”

Luz blinked; it seemed like she didn’t know how to process her surroundings. She blinked, and a few tears ran down her cheek.

“Mom!”

She returned the hug, chest heaving. Neither of them moved for some time - there was a sense of unreality, the sudden ability to see each other, to touch each other. For a brief and beautiful moment, nothing else in the world mattered; just them, reunited at last.

Eventually, Camila pulled out of the hug.

“Oh, mija, never scare me like that again,” she sighed.

“Mom, I…”

Luz’s face fell, her eyes widening.

“...wait, where’s Eda?” she asked. “Where’s King? Where’s…”

She looked to her right, her eyes falling on the girl unconscious next to her. She gripped the bedsheets, starting to shake.

“Amity?” she exclaimed. “But… but we’re in the human world! Which means there’s a portal! We’ve gotta get Amity home!”

“Yeah, about that…” said Vee, rubbing the back of her head.

Camila frowned.

“The… portal disappeared,” she said.

Luz swallowed.

“So… we’re stuck?”

“We’re stuck?” The words came out before Camila could stop herself.

Luz’s eyes widened and she shook her head.

“No, no, that’s not… that’s not what I…”

She reached out, seizing Camila’s hands in hers.

“Mami, I don’t want to leave you again, I didn’t - I never wanted to hurt you, I just…”

Camila took a deep breath, closing her eyes.

“Luz,” she said, as evenly as she could, “I think we both need to talk about this.”

Luz bowed her head.

“I know.”

She turned to Amity.

“Is… is Amity okay?” she asked. “I don’t remember her getting hurt.”

“She cast a spell, I think,” replied Camila. “Something about… sharing the pain?”

Luz swallowed, and a few more tears spilled down her cheek.

“Oh Amity,” she said. “You didn’t… you didn’t have to do that for me. You didn’t have to do any of this…”

“Amity?” Vee tilted her head. “Amity Blight?”

Luz turned and nodded.

“Yeah,” she replied. “How do you know… oh yeah, Blight family, duh.”

She turned back to Amity - just in time to see her eyes slowly start to open.

“L… Luz?” she murmured.

“It’s okay, Amity, I’m here,” Luz replied. “We’re gonna figure this out, okay? Just…”

She sighed.

“...it’s just a little complicated.”

-------

“He really believed in witches from Mars?”

The Gravesfield Historical Society had been closed for the past two weeks; this was the first time somebody who wasn’t a policeman had stepped in since the Jacob Hopkins Incident. But the Society had to keep going, and that meant the museum needed a new curator.

Enter Professor Fabian Stearne.

Stearne was an older man, somewhere between fifty and sixty, and looked every inch the prof. The tweed jacket, the blue shirt (tie roguishly discarded), the purple cardigan and the fire-engine red vans painted the picture of a charming eccentric, not hindered by his half-moon glasses, comb over, and trimmed grey moustache. He was a Gravesfield ‘lifer,’ who had rejected esteemed job offers from Yale and Harvard to head the history department at the small Gravesfield College.

And he’d never wanted to be a curator; if anyone had asked him, he’d tell them he was a researcher, preferring to dig up new theories than present old relics. Yet now there was literally no one else to do the job, so it was up to him.

“I did my PhD with him. Never thought he had that sort of thing in him.”

His assistant, Ben Frakes, was helping him clean the staff room - clearing the mess of weird conspiracy theory paraphernalia to make it a little more professional. Much younger than Stearne, Ben was fairly junior in the history department; he was convening his first course, ‘History and Myth in Gravesfield,’ a small, niche course that he nevertheless enjoyed.

Stearne and Frakes went back many years; Ben’s whole progress from history undergrad to PhD had been done under his watch. The lanky young man, brown haired, clean shaven and with a propensity for leather jackets, owed his career to Stearne, and he was always keen to give back when he could.

If that meant taking doctored photos of ‘owl beasts’ off a wall, then he was happy to do it.

“Yes, it’s a shame what happened to Jacob,” nodded Stearne. “But he’s not the first historian to run afoul of the law. Hopefully, once he’s gotten the help he needs, he can get back on his feet.”

He took the photo from Ben’s hands.

“He’s a clever man,” he said. “Just prone to wild imagination.”

“And animal endangerment?” said Ben, raising an eyebrow.

Stearne chuckled.

“What is a historian without eccentricity?”

“I’m surprised you took this job,” mused Ben, grabbing a box to take out to the trash. “You were always so critical of museums.”

“Well, there are worse ways to spend your twilight years than curating,” shrugged Stearne. “And Mr. Wittelsbane made a very compelling case. The town needs this museum. We can’t lose track of our past.”

Ben chuckled.

“Well, I’m gonna take this out back,” he said. “You need me to carry anything else?”

“No, my boy, not just yet,” replied Stearne.

“Okay, see you when I get back!”

Stearne watched as Ben walked away - as soon as he was gone, he looked down at the photograph, running a hand across it.

“Oh, my dear Jacob, so close and yet so far,” he sighed. “But worry not, worry not.”

He smiled - or perhaps it was more of a smirk.

“Redemption comes for all of us, in the end.”

#the owl house #luz noceda #amity blight #camila noceda #vee #fanfiction #writing #a blight on gravesfield

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prurientpuddlejumper · 4 years

Text

A Punchable Face That I Want to Kiss, Ch. 8

<- Chapter 7 | Chapter 9 ->

Summary: Snapshots of life with a fussy brat over the three-year time jump. Including: a few holiday specials.

3,949 words

With the lease up on your apartment, Frederick invited you to move in with him. It seemed like the next logical step in your relationship, especially considering how frequently you slept there anyway—though he had to justify the choice by saying he “could not stand seeing you live in squalor.” The house was certainly big enough for two people (or several less-wealthy families).

It was nice living with him, because you lived very different lives. Rather than finding it stifling to be trapped in the same house, it was freeing that you could spend so much of the day apart—or weeks, as it often was, traveling for cases or book promotion tours—and yet always be connected by the home you would return to at the end of it all.

You were planets of the solar system orbiting the same sun.

The stability of that was comforting. So much had changed—Will Graham left and cut ties with the FBI, Hannibal Lecter was imprisoned at the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane where Alana Bloom now held Chilton’s old job, and you were considering following Will’s lead and pursuing new career options. It made you glad to have someone familiar to keep you company, and always be there when you needed him.

For all the good, living with Frederick Chilton was not always easy. He was a shameless snob who did not believe in laundry chairs, and panicked when his state-of-the-art kitchen was filled with sugary cereals with cartoon characters on the box. There were many clashes of egos early on, some of which never fully disappeared. Now that his star was rising, he insisted you dress a certain way when you were to be seen in public together—particularly at any sort of publicity event or psychiatric conference, but anywhere really that he might be recognized. He was yours, and that meant you reflected upon him. He updated your entire wardrobe like you were starring in an episode of Queer Eye, and had your hair professionally styled.

You couldn’t even be annoyed at the controlling implications of it—you were never great at dressing professionally, and it was exciting to see yourself looking so sharp in the mirror. You could surrender that to him. He enjoyed sophisticated things, like the opera and restaurants where celebrities eat, and now you didn’t feel so out of place when you joined him.

“You actually look quite elegant,” he nodded in surprised approval at your new attire.

You stuck out your tongue.

“Do not tempt me with that,” he said with a feline wiggle of his shoulders. “We have engagements to get to, and I do not want to re-do my face.” He wrapped the hand not gripping a cane around your hip and kissed you, coaxing your naughty tongue into his mouth with a lustful growl.

Any time he was too fussy and judgmental to the point of being unkind, you were quite practiced at flicking him back down to earth. He rarely apologized, of course, but would look up and purse his lips in thought before admitting, “You may be right.”

He was a sassy bitch, but you knew that. It’s why you loved him.

You loved him.

You did. It was strange to realize how much you loved someone you used to hate, whose traits you would normally find incompatible with your own. He was a miserable little rich boy with a self-satisfied sneer, a flare for drama, and perpetually questionable ethics, yet you would do anything to keep him safe. You wanted to stay by his side forever.

And there was something to be said about his difficult personality when you were not on the receiving end of it.

Being on his side was fun—his hand at your back as he verbally destroyed someone with a catty insinuation that left their eyes glowering with indignation. That used to be me, you thought. Now you were up on his throne with him, and the view was much better.

You wanted to stay through all the medications, physical therapy, and regular hospital visits to tweak his prosthetics and make sure his remaining organs were all still functioning properly. You wanted to stay even as you questioned how much of your affection for him was pity in disguise, as he had suggested the first time you slept with him in a fit of explosive passion—that you liked wounded birds.

If it was pity, and being pity meant you would have to leave, then you resolved to stuff your fingers in your ears and ignore it. No psychoanalysis would make you give him up. You wanted to keep orbiting the sun together.

*****

Calliope music paraded through the air with aggressively cheerful pneumatic whistles that grabbed your eardrums and pulled them screaming into the 1920s. Shrieks, laughter, bells, and shouts rushed by.

Frederick Chilton stuck close beside you and mistrustfully held a greasy paper plate like it was a venomous snake.

It seemed only fair that in return for dressing up, you made him dress down and do normal-person things, like go to the county fair and eat deliciously greasy fried foods. It was like a cultural exchange program.

“Every moment I am not writing my next book is another moment the world goes without a groundbreaking revelation on the human psyche,” he had snipped when you first suggested the outing. He barely looked up from his computer, where he sat typing in a suave leather office chair.

“Oh come on, you owe me,” you persisted. “I am sick and tired of fancy museums and fancy restaurants and fancy psychiatric conventions. Next time we’re in a hotel, there should be Star Trek costumes involved!” He straightened like you’d shoved a rod up his spine, and you chuckled inwardly at his petty aversion to being seen at that type of convention. “Come on, it’s just the fair,” you rubbed his shoulders and he groaned with annoyance. “Nobody important will be there. You’ll be totally incognito. Be a commoner with me.”

“I suppose it is the least I can do,” he caved in at last, leaning his head back to rest on your chest, glancing up at you through his eyebrows. “Since it is so important to you, I shall partake of your proletariat festivities.”

“Don’t say proletariat when we’re at the fair, you bougie dork.”

He wore a plain black t-shirt, and his hair wasn’t quite as primly styled as usual, letting a few strands fly free. The less he stood out from the crowd, the less likely a professional acquaintance or fan would recognize him.

Even living with Chilton, it was rare to see him dressed so casually, and you had expected it to be disconcerting. Instead, you found yourself drooling. He was sexy in a suit, but so was everybody with the correct fit. The unstructured t-shirt hugged his broad chest and revealed those alarmingly muscular arms that were usually a secret hidden under sleeves.

It was odd seeing your private Chilton—reserved for nights and mornings—out in the world, and a reminder of how lucky you were.

He managed to look dapper even with powdered sugar on his shirt.

“Funnel cake?” he cringed, as if the word itself was in poor taste. “Are we certain this is food?”

“You are ridiculously hoity-toity.”

“I do enjoy the finer things in life,” he boasted in a smooth, self-congratulatory hum.

You were about to sass him when you realized his admiring eyes were fixed on you, and he wore an expectant smirk on his lips. Your scowl cracked open into a tender laugh, and you linked your arm with his, giving him a playful hip bump.

His eyes widened at you in mock horror. “You would attack a man with a cane?” He awaited your answer with that same peevish smirk, but you didn’t have anything clever on your tongue, so you pulled him into a kiss instead. He melted against your lips, having gotten what he wanted.

Frederick refused to go on any rides, citing safety concerns and his delicate viscera, but you perused a hundred breeds of chickens, pet the World’s Tallest Clydesdale, watched pigs racing, browsed local artwork, and sampled craft beers which he had to admit were pretty good. You paid far too much money to shoot water guns at a spinning target faster than other carnival-goers so you could win an oversize plush of a corgi, which turned out to be filled with disappointing foam stuffing.

After finally placing a piece of sugary fried dough in his mouth, his eyes closed, and when they opened again, he declared it “not terrible.” Then inhaled it and spent the rest of the fair surreptitiously looking for another funnel cake stand.

When you got home, he confessed, with his most stern and dignified demeanor, that he may have, perhaps had fun, juvenile as it was. Then he quietly suggested that he would make an excellent Spock.

*****

“I am never going to be perfect enough for you, am I?” you cried after another petty argument over another petty thing like stacking the cups in the cupboard in precisely the correct order. “How do you live with me? It must drive you crazy.”

Months of feeling inadequate bubbled to the surface all at once. Everything he did was so controlled, so exact, you really did wonder why he would ever be with someone like you.

“No,” he frowned, and as he gently took your shoulders his heart was crumbling in his eyes. There was a sorry on the tip of his tongue, but this was not the lottery-winning occasion he would say the word itself. He didn’t need to. He would say it in other ways.

His warm lips pressed your forehead as he rubbed loving circles on your arms with his thumbs. “Do you know who was perfect? Hannibal. I would rather live with a hot mess than a cold-blooded monster. One of us should be warm, anyway,” he gave a self-deprecating smile. “I must do better to remember the beauty of imperfection, because you are perfect to me.”

*****

The front door opened well after the sun had disappeared and the stars had begun to come out. Frederick came home drained and exhausted from being on his feet all day trying to dominate professional rivals who were all, in turn, out to get him.

Conferences were invigorating, an exciting place to strut one’s superiority, make connections, and scope out the competition… until they were not, and they became whichever circle of Hell it is that makes one have to continually defend oneself to people for whom one will never be good enough.

You looked up from the book you were reading. You didn’t get up from the couch cushion’s gravitational embrace, but smiled with stars in your eyes, and called, “Frederick!”

Home.

He crawled onto the couch next to you, and laid his head in your lap. You set the book aside and ran your fingers through his hair, listening to the sweet, sleepy noises of pleasure the action evoked. Fantasies of this moment had kept him alive all day. You caressed his neck and the prickly stubble along the side of his jaw, and he turned his face into your palm and kissed it. He adored the way you touched him with your gentle, caring hands. Yawning, you reclined into the deep, plush cushions, and he shifted so you were both laying next to each other, content in each other’s embrace. He cuddled into your chest, face buried in your shirt.

“You smell like tacos.”

It was unclear how peevishly he intended the observation, so you simply replied, “I made tacos for dinner.”

“The cheap American kind that are nothing but ground beef, shredded cheese, and an insult to Mexican culture,” he said, voice muffled by the fabric.

“Mm-hmm,” you said.

“They are not real food.”

“Do you want some?”

“God, yes.”

*****

With physical therapy, Chilton was finally able to walk comfortably without assistance again.

Technically, he had been able to for a long time. The cane was a crutch—in the figurative, not the literal, sense. In the literal sense it was very much not a crutch, or even a cane. At best, it was an expensive, silver-topped walking stick. He clung to it like a security blanket, or as a prop to garner pity, or simply because it was a dramatic accessory. The threat of physical therapy simply convinced him to let go of the pretense.

Like the spiral staircases of his home, some things about Dr. Chilton were fussy and theatrical for no reason.

It was almost a shame, you thought. That thing was the epitome of his dapper style (he might as well put on tap shoes, a top hat, and put on the Ritz with Fred Astaire), and it brought to mind such kinky images.

It was not one of those lightweight BDSM canes, and therefore was far too heavy to do any spanking with, assuming you wanted to be able to sit down any time in the next month. However, you recalled with some excitement his tapping it on the inside of your heels to get you to spread your legs open, using the pommel to gently tip your chin up to him, or running it slowly along the inside of your thighs.

You would miss that cane.

You still argued sometimes—but not as often. You were accustomed to his haughtiness and felt less need to try and change it, and he knew you well enough to relax when the two of you were alone. He took your advice that life was not a competition... but only when it came to you, not to his career and public reputation.

He was still obsessed with proving his superiority to the world. Still obsessed with seeing Hannibal Lecter grow old and feeble inside a cell. Those edges were so integrally a part of him you could never smooth them out.

*****

You were good for his book tour.

Though he never raised his voice or threw insults around, Chilton still had the journalist sitting in your living room on edge. She gripped the recording device harder, nails turning white. Flanked by imposing towers of leather-bound books, he stared her down like a shark, bragging about his psychiatric achievements and describing grizzly details of the Lecter case with a heartless detachment—he smirked when the more graphic parts made her squeamish.

Dr. Chilton was (contrary to his own opinion) not the best mind in the psychiatric field, but there was one thing he was the preeminent expert in, and that was leaving people with the impression that he was a callous douchebag who thought he was better than everyone else. Which was more or less accurate.

When you entered the room, his whole demeanor softened.

“Hey honey,” you poked your head in with a plate of cookies. “Sorry, I didn’t know you had that interview today. Should I come back later?”

“Nonsense, darling, come in.”

The haughty stare he’d been giving the journalist broke and turned to a warm gaze and a kind smile as he crossed the room to escort you in, his hand on the small of your back. You sat down on the sofa next to him, and set the plate of good-will-bribery cookies down on the coffee table between you and the journalist. She politely refused, at least until the recording was over, but instantly seemed more relaxed, loosing her death-vice on the recorder. You quietly leaned your head on Frederick’s shoulder and discreetly clasped his hand on the cushion between you through the rest of the interview, which he spent blushing and unable to maintain the coldness of his stare.

You brought out a side of him few were able to see. Whenever you made an appearance during his book promotions, the article published was always just a bit more favorable.

*****

“Gotta go!” you called across the house, slinging a pack over your shoulders. Dawn was barely cresting the purple sky, and Frederick was barely awake. He didn’t even have his prosthetic maxilla in yet; he was only up to say goodbye. “I’m going to be in the field for ten hours straight today!” You thought about that for a moment, and groaned with anticipated exhaustion.

“You have water?”

“Yes, mom.”

“You cannot blame me for worrying,” he smiled with some pride at his gallant adventurer. You were wild in ways he would never understand, and it terrified as much as thrilled him. He smoothed a few wrinkles out of your shirt—a rugged garment for outdoor wear—and said you looked presentable enough for what you were doing. You kissed him, and wished him luck with the book signing he was attending that day.

He wandered into the kitchen to search for breakfast, when an idea occurred to him.

“Take some of my meal-replacement bars,” he offered, opening the pantry. He had the organic superfood detox variety that he was able to digest.

“I already did, thanks!”

He sighed with annoyance. “I noticed. It looks like an animal went through the packaging.”

“You love me,” you grinned cheekily in the doorway.

He prowled up to you, eyes narrow, trapping you against the door. He growled. He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in the crook of your neck, kissing you and sucking a small bruise just under your collar. Yeah, he loved you. You purred, arching your back so you were pressed more firmly against him, and breathed in his scent. If only you didn’t have to leave.

“Come home safe.”

*****

Halloween was your favorite holiday. Perhaps it was gauche for one involved in investigating real murders, and real dead people, but then, that might have been what made it so appealing—on Halloween, all the blood was corn syrup, the skeletons danced to 80’s rock, and the serial killers wore their identities on their sleeves and carried plastic weapons. It had been your favorite holiday as a kid, and it still was.

“No.”

“Please?” you begged, drawing out the E. “It would be so awesome!”

“No.”

“But—”

“I am a bestselling author. An esteemed expert in my field. I will not be subjected to such an undignified, childish display.”

“But you would have the best costume and nobody would know!”

He wasn’t sure how you talked him into it. It must have those adorable pleading eyes he could never resist, or the enticing appeal to his ego that it would be an extraordinary costume, certain to leave everyone guessing how the effect was done. Somehow, he was walking into a Halloween party as a zombie. Without his contact lens or prosthetic jaw.

He frowned. It was humiliating.

You were dressed as an apocalypse survivor with an infected bite, and were hamming it up, telling the other guests you were fine, totally fine, with a shaky panic-edged voice and a tremor in your limbs. You had done an impressive job on the makeup, too, giving your complexion a sallow haze and reddened eyes. The bite itself was a gory masterpiece constructed from latex and tissue paper, with dark veins spider-webbing up your arm.

He didn’t have to ham it up. He only needed to walk in the room and Shrek and Fiona, Pennywise the clown, and a sexy velociraptor all gasped in horror at his face. How was that meant to make him feel?

“So cool!” someone said before he could turn on his heel and walk out of there. Words like, “There isn’t a contest, is there? I should have put in more effort,” and “did you hire a movie SFX artist? No fair,” started to get tossed around—including toward costume elements that you had designed and had nothing to do with his natural grotesqueness. Then they offered him a drink and moved on to the next impressive costumes and regular party chatter.

You were right. Nobody knew it was real, and while it stung to be stared at and called grisly—you would later apologize profusely for being too gung-ho and not thinking through what would happen—he had never imaged being able to have a normal conversation in public with his real face exposed. There was something daringly vulnerable about it. He had never imagined not being ashamed, but at least in this niche context, his old injury made him the leading man of the evening.

By the end of the night he got so into it, he was chasing you around snarling for your brains, and getting a kick out of scaring trick-or-treaters.

*****

He took you to Paris for Valentine’s day. Last time it was Italy, and you strangely suspected he was touring the shadow of Hannibal Lecter as much as he was trying to impress you. You had suspected, that is, until you asked, and he rather bluntly admitted to it. He hadn’t expected you not to notice by the time you got to Florence, although Venice had been purely about romance (he loved all those touristy gondola rides that he swore he hated and were just for your benefit).

Now that he finally had the chance to lavish his considerable means upon someone, he was throwing himself heart and soul into the holiday, and would not stop until he had spoiled you senseless. When he was single and accustomed to spending the day alone, he used to loathe February 14th—Valentine’s had seemed a cruel joke directed specifically at him. He couldn’t even spitefully ignore it by staying late at work, because the more perceptive inmates always took notice.

“You do not know hell,” he told you, “until a man convicted of raping his mother’s severed head taunts you about your lack of sex life.”

This year, he treated you to everything Paris had to offer: the Louvre, Notre Dame, an opera at Palais Garnier, a morning stroll through the gardens of Versailles, delicious bakeries, cafes, chocolate, and macrons. You insisted upon seeing the Catacombs, of course.

When you went to the Eiffel Tower and he showed up with roses and dinner reservations for sunset in its refined first-floor restaurant, your gut clenched. You were terrified he was going to propose. Of course he would make a grand gesture! You carefully inspected every champagne glass for hidden engagement rings, but found only bubbles. After dinner, when you ascended to the top of the tower to watch Paris light up at night, you knew that was when the proposal was coming.

But it didn’t. And you found yourself disappointed.

You had never talked about it, so there was no reason to assume it was something he wanted. It seemed far too soon to you, too, until it was snatched away and you realized that after three years together, you still couldn’t imagine wanting a life without him in it.

Arriving home at last, you breathed a sigh of relief into the still air. Paris was exciting and rich with history, but you were glad to be home in the peaceful familiarity of that snobbishly oversized house with its ridiculously spiraling staircases and its somewhat-less-fastidiously-pristine rooms, which now accommodated both of your things. All of the picture frames that once held impersonal stock photos displayed real snapshots of your lives together.

You weren’t even going to shower. You were so tired, you just wanted to rip all your clothes off and drop into bed. Frederick pulled his tie off. Hair frumpy from the long plane and taxi rides, his fingers worked to undo the top buttons of his shirt as he lumbered to the bath. He stopped at the door and turned back. You were taking a sip of water before leaving the cup on your nightstand.

“Marry me?” he said.

#Frederick Chilton x reader #frederick chilton #Hannibal #Raúl Esparza #my writing

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botslayer · 4 years

Text

Octodad: Not-so-dark theory

From top to bottom, Octodad looks like a fairly innocent game, A simple story about an Octopus trying to survive in suburbia. But, through subtle hints and references, and inconsistencies with that premise, it is revealed that Octodad is no mere cephalopod. He is, in fact, something far more horrifying, on paper at least... What do I mean?

Octodad is not, in truth, an Octopus, He's a Cthulhi. For those not familiar with the works of H.P. Lovecraft, Cthulhi are also called "The Starspawn of Cthulhu" and "Xothians," and are a race that looks like Cthulhu who's true origins, as with everything in the Cthulhu mythos, are debatable and vague as sin, the only things known for a fact are that they look like Cthulhu (Or, in their first appearance, like Octopi), worship him, followed him from their home dimension/universe into ours, and then perished en masse while what remained of them went into a death-like sleep, same as Cthulhu.

Now, Star Spawn aren't often seen in the works of Lovecraft, but they do have a sliver of popularity in the fandom. Not as big (in the popularity sense) as Deep Ones, but not as unknown as the humble Penguins of Leng. Now, again, it's worth noting that common interpretations of Star Spawn are basically baby Cthulhus, just tiny versions of their dark and malevolent master, but to start with, they were described as "a land race of beings shaped like octopi and probably corresponding to the fabulous pre-human spawn of Cthulhu," in the story "At the Mountains of Madness."

Octodad highly RESEMBLES an octopus, but with some interesting tweaks. Namely: His eyes, two of his Tentacles, and something we'll talk about in just a minute. But let's talk about Octodad's anatomy when compared to another octopus, namely, the one in the "Wold of kelp" at the Aquarium.

Now, this is Octopus is a giant, climbable sculpture one might see at a water park, so in a technical sense, some liberties could have been taken with its anatomy, but it looks semi-accurate to real octopi, down to the slit-like pupils and the tentacles all being at roughly the same spot despite them spreading out for kids to climb on. Now, if you pay attention, a patron of the Aquarium will note that the "World of kelp" was something else before it was the world of kelp, though they THINK it was "Squids or something" before. Based on how the section played out, I have to believe the whole affair was either cephalopods in general given how many bases of just kelp they went over, or just Octopi because HOLY CRAP there are lots of octopi out there. Failing that, I don't think the statue was a squid to begin with, the eyes are far too forward on the head, what can be seen of the tentacles makes them all look the same, and most species of squid have circular pupils and irises, not slits/rectangles.

Octodad, in contrast to the sculpture, has vertically ovular pupils, far rounder than the slits on the larger statue, on top of that, his eyes take up a slightly larger portion of his head. Then we take a look at Octodad's tentacles, namely the two that form his mustache. These two tentacles are set away from the other six in a way that makes no real anatomical sense for an octopus. Not to mention that the two are preposterously shorter than the others, it's less like another pair of tendrils and more like a strange growth coming out of the middle of his head. Moving on from that, there's also a certain disparity with his other limbs, his "arms" are shorter than his "legs" when he stands, however, when he enters water, his limbs, save for his mustache, are all of equal length, this strange effect carries over to when he's buck-ass naked, so no, he isn't just scrunching two up while he's in the suit... Speaking of naked octodad:

What the hell is that THING in the midst of his tentacles? It's a lighter color than the others, he's still using two tentacles per leg, one per arm, and his mustache is basically vestigial. Octodad's anatomy makes no fucking sense unless you consider the idea that he has some level of shapeshifting power... and wouldn't you know it, Cthulhi have just that. To what end is a little shakey, as with most things in the Lovecraft universe, but still.

Also worth noting is the church Octodad got married at, a Church dedicated, at least partly, to Cthulhu himself. Now, we only see one window with any kind of figure on it, Cthulhu, wereas the others are all decked out with a strange symbol, as are a few paintings lining the walls of it. These paintings may be of religious significance to the practitioners of this particular faith, but a lot of it looks like some minimalist "If you get it you get it" kind of stuff, and then one is literally a crayon drawing of a child with a smiling balloon. The last vaguely Lovecraftian thing in the church is the treasure chest Octodad gets his wife's ring from, all the coins within have a squid/cuttlefish-like creature printed on them, In the story "Shadow over Innsmouth," the people of a town called "Innsmouth" start breeding with fish people. They did it specifically for the undersea gold the fish people (called Deep Ones) give out for the service. Deep Ones worship multiple gods, cheif among them are their great parents, Mother Hydra and Father Dagon, though worship of Cthulhu isn't against their laws or anything.

The game takes a break from the hints of Eldrich horror while the family is at home, though it is worth noting that we don't REALLY know where Octodad's children came from. Hell, the game makes a joke about it at the end, Tommy asks, plain as day, "If dad's an octopus... Then where did me and Stacy come from?" While his parents laugh the question off, it has a few possible answers: The two of them (Or just Tommy) are leftover from a failed relationship/marriage Scarlet was a part of before Octodad came in, the two (Or just Tommy) are adopted, or, in a manner not dissimilar to deep ones, Cthulhi may just be able to breed with humans in this universe.

Now, I say Tommy may be adopted/Not Octodad's specifically because Stacy says something concerning in the "Deep sea" exhibit at the Aquarium. She apparently has dreams wherein a deep, dark spot in the ocean seems to call to her. This turns out to be a sea horse ranch. Cute as that is, dreams are a recurrent theme in Lovecraft's work, sometimes compelling people into the service of Great old ones like Gla'aki, for example. Or there was that one story when a guy met Yog-Sothoth, the omniscient and omnipresent god of the universe just because he dreamed that deeply. Also "The Dreamlands" are a place in Lovecraft's fiction. I could keep going down that rabbit hole, but I'm lazy and I think that point is made.

There is also another reference (Possibly) to "Shadow over Innsmouth" and "Dagon" with the character of Chef Fujimoto. Now, Fujimoto himself is not a reference to anything in particular, but his backstory has some Lovecrafty bits. Namely, Fujimoto was once a soldier (Dagon) who cut open a combatant. Instead of human guts, "Piles of fish" were inside. (Shadow over Innsmouth.) This one might be a little more of a stretch but remember that Fujimoto is OBSESSED with Octodad and believes very firmly that there are fish people everywhere. ("Why is everyone fish!?") There are several Lovecraftian stories where the character feels he is being pursued or is surrounded in some way. Call of Cthulhu ends with one of the characters feeling that the cult is gunning for him, partly because some dude looked at him funny, and Dagon ended with the main character fearing that a servent of Dagon was coming up his stairs after him, so he threw himself out a window. The crippling paranoia experienced by Fujimoto is another hint that SOMETHING Eldrich is happening in the universe of Octodad.

Also worth noting is that a magazine entitled "Inquisitor" can be found at Gervason's, Octodad is on the cover, and they think he's an alien. Which begs the question: Why is it that most humans will let an obviously strange man do things without much concern at all? Hell, there are three lines present in both the main game and one of the extra shorts that imply EVERYONE sees something is wrong with Octodad. And I quote/paraphrase:

"I thought he was a lawyer?" "He's slimy enough to be one."

"Is it just me or did the captain look jigglier than usual?"

"Hmmm, I don't see a blurblerulb on the list."

These lines imply on some level that people recognize SOMETHING is wrong or different with Octodad but they don't carry the thought far enough to do anything with it... Unless perhaps at a distance, hence that cover of “Inquisitor.”

Another thing that tends to happen in Lovecraftian horror is the mind not making proper sense of things. For example: Canonically in the mythos, the image of Cthulhu mankind sees, humanoid body, octopus head, draconic wings, etc, is not what he really looks like, it's just our perception of Cthulhu because our minds aren't equipped to comprehend the real deal. Looking too long at just what we can see of Cthulhu will unravel your mind, causing both insanity and death if exposed even longer. I think that's part of Octodad's effect. When he's dressed, the humans around him perceive what their mind makes sense of. He's in a shirt and pants, therefore he is appropriately dressed as a human, therefore their minds SEE a human even if he's not QUITE right. We see, rather obviously, that he doesn't have human hands, he has tentacles with suckers, but Scarlet refers to it as a "Hand" still, this implies she and others see his appendages as hands or feet when he's disguised or doing something "Human enough." Only really undone if he's naked or does too many strange or seemingly malicious things like accidentally smack someone with a bag of doughnuts.

This is why you can get away with randomly dragging things across the floor, their minds are telling them something is a little off, but their ability to perceive might be telling them he's just got a medical condition or something. It's nothing to judge him for, he's just got a disability.

So at the end of that trail, what are we left with? Octodad as a Xothian/Deep one hybrid? Does that fundamentally change the game's story? Does this mean Octodad is a dark horror from beyond? Does he secretly seek to kill and maim and destroy all the things we hold dear? Will he one day help awaken Cthulhu and usher in the new age of the great old ones? No. See, Octodad, despite his horrifying inspirations, is a benevolent creature. He "blubs with a love for all mankind" in the ending for Dadliest Catch. He still obviously loves and cares for his family, whether they know his secret or not. He's just an alien from another dimension... or at least he has ancestry from another dimension.

Now, why is that? I've got two little ideas for that: It's an often found interpretation that most of the original writings of Lovecraft focus on the idea that "It is different, therefore it is bad." Xenophobia of an extremely high sort. Mind you, I often find this interpretation lacking, but we can probably discuss that later. I feel Octodad may be a natural extrapolation of the idea that it isn't bad because it's different, in fact, Octodad, despite keeping a secret, is an all-around "good" guy. Upstanding, moral, all that garbage, he just happens to be non-human. Something supporting this being a running theme is the scene with the Snugglefish. For those who have yet to play Dadliest catch, a section of the game takes place when the power in part of the Aquarium goes partially out. During this event, Octodad and Stacy come upon a large sculpture of a creature called a “Snugglefish.” which is covered by the dark. We shine lights at the supposedly malevolent creature, complete with monstrous teeth and evil red eyes, partially with the intent to “Blind it” despite the fact that its obviously a statue. That whole section up to then is nothing but fumbling in the dark, looking at the strange and some might say “alien” life living in the deep ocean, you can also learn some stuff about them if you pay attention. The whole thing ends when you fully light up the spots on the statue, revealing it to BE a Snuggle fish as opposed to some giant monster. As a result of revealing this, Stacy’s fears of it go right out and she feels she understands the creature better, as with most things, learning and understanding quiet one’s fears. when we learn what something is, we stop seeing it as an immediate threat is the take away from that section, I think, which is, again, I’d say, a call to Lovecraft's writings and his fear of that which was different and unknown and how it’s so easily thrown out with just a LITTLE understanding.

Another plausible explanation for Octodad’s kindness may be that Octodad is not a Star Spawn of Cthulhu, but of Kthanid. Kthanid is not an original creation of H.P. Lovecraft, but a bloke by the name of "Brian Lumley." Lumley's creation is the brother of Cthulhu, and is considered the main reason Cthulhu is sealed away these days. Kthanid is said to look almost exactly like Cthulhu but to have "Golden eyes that radiate peace." He's a loving, benevolent "Elder God" that wants the best for not just Humanity, but for all things. It would logically follow that if a creature dedicated itself to Kthanid, or was one of his spawn, it would be at least mostly as loving and kind. So, if Octodad, or "blurblerulb" if you prefer, was a purely hypothetical Kthani instead of Cthulhi, his disposition may well fit within the actual mythos.

So, what do y'all think? Does this theory hold water? Or does it sink harder than Cthulhu going back down for a nap?

#Octodad #Dadliest Catch #Tommy #Stacy #Scarlet #Chef Fujimoto #Cthulhu #Lovecraft #Kthanid #Xothians #star spawn #cthulhi #Deep Ones

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #342

“in this farewell, there’s no blood, there’s no alibi / ‘cuz i’ve drawn regret from the truth of a thousand lies”

What’s your all-time favourite cartoon? Does anime count? In which case I'd say Fullmetal Alchemist, or the original Pokemon. If we're not including anime, then uhhhh Avatar: The Last Airbender, even though I have much more to go in the series. Have you ever taken dance lessons? What kind? Yeah, I've done a few for many years: jazz, clogging, modern, and hip hop. When did you last run and why? I literally couldn't tell you. I don't even know if I can run with the current state of my legs. My knees would probably crumple. Does your house/flat/whatever the hell you live in need cleaning? Not necessarily cleaning, but sorting. I still have boxes outside and inside my room of my stuff I need to put up somewhere... but whenever I prepare to do it, I just get so overwhelmed and shy away from it. Then there's the spare room, that's a total mess loaded with boxes and the like. Mom and I have just avoided it like the plague. Was your last relationship with a man or a woman? Woman. What do you think your next achievement will be? HOPEFULLY getting a job... Do you like mushrooms? NOOOOOOO. What dream do you remember most vividly? I'm not talking about it. Favorite kind of bread? Pumpernickel. Rabbits or hamsters? Rabbits. I've never met a nice hamster, and I just think rabbits are cuter. A movie you’ve never seen that it seems like every one else has? Harry Potter films. Favorite dog breed? I'm biased towards beagles. When was the last time you climbed a tree? Never, actually. Where I live, there aren't really many weighty trees with low branches. Just pine trees. Most common lie you tell? That I'm "fine" when I'm not. Ever seen your parents make out? Jc no, I'll take a hard pass there. Do you put your hair up a lot or down? It's too short to put up. Most of the time do you straighten or curl your hair? Neither. What piercing do you hate? I'm not a fan of cheek dermals at all, but you do you 100%. Were you raised in a religious house? Yes; I was raised Roman Catholic. Do your parents get mad when you're on the computer for hours? Mom used to for many years until I became an adult and she just realized it was in vain. I haven't lived with Dad since I was a teenager, but when my parents were together, he usually didn't say anything. Have you ever been asked for a nude picture? No, thankfully. I'd stop talking to the person immediately. What would you do if your parent hit you? I honestly feel like I'd slap them back and get the fuck out. Or just freeze in shock and cry. What's your most common mood? Stressed but distracted. Do you like poems? Yeah, usually. Ever kissed someone half-naked? Uh yeah. Have you ever been in a parade? No. Do you still play Pokémon? I play Pokemon GO, and I've actually been tempted to get out my DS and play one of the games I have (I can't remember which). I do find Pokemon games to be VERY grind-ey, though, so I can't play them for too long without getting bored. What is your favorite Pokémon? Ninetales. I also really love Espeon, though, and Charmander will always have my heart. Is there an animal you like that most people don't? Bats! :') Is there an animal that you think is overrated in terms of how it's liked? No animal is overrated. Have you ever "quit" a site and came back to it more than once? Uhhhh I don't think so. Do you have an "odd" fascination with anything? Most would probably consider "vulture culture" to be pretty weird, being drawn to dead animals and all... What's the hardest thing you've been through, & what did you learn from it? The breakup with Jason. I learned that some people make promises they aren't afraid to break, that someone can promise "forever" and not mean it, that the most unexpected can just snap their fingers and forget about you... I learned a lot. And most things, not positive. What are three "unrealistic" things you want most? 1.) To be able to financially support myself by just freelance nature photography; 2.) sooo many different kinds of pets; and 3.) to be totally rid of my mental illnesses. Do you take any daily vitamins? No, but I would if I was the one who bought groceries and stuff. I do however take Vitamin D once a week for my legs. Who are three of your favorite fictional characters of all time? JUST THREE??????? FUCK MAN idk. Uhhh well there's of course Darkiplier and Wilford Warfstache, then uhhh probably Pyramid Head. If you had to give the world a pre-existing mythological/fictional being, what would it be? Idk, I'd really need to be more educated on their lore before I made that decision. Do you have any desire to learn (a) foreign language(s)? Which? I both do and don't want to resume learning German. I got very good at it and could have basic conversations, but lack of application has slaughtered my vocabulary. Now it's like, it'd be nice to try again, but for what purpose? I don't think I'll ever actually apply it to my life, so it just seems like it'd be a load of wasted effort. But then on the other hand, I also feel that doing something you simply want to do isn't a waste of time. Idk. What is one of your firmest beliefs? Equality for all. No race, religion, whatthefuckever makes you more or less valuable than someone else. Do you have anything that keeps you from doing something you'd truly enjoy? Oh yes. Depression and anxiety, mostly. Do you work to fix your faults? Or at least, admit to them? I definitely try, and I'll certainly admit to them. How do you hope the world will change, if at all? I just want more compassion, less violence, more understanding... What is/are your view(s) on god, religion, spirituality, or relations to? In short, I believe that something sentient created the universe, and it/they/he/she/what-have-you just... let life play out from there, I think. I like to believe there's a plane of consciousness like an afterlife that exists, but if not, I don't really care. I hope the evil get what was coming to them, and the good get back what they gave, but maybe we're all better off without life after death. We'll all find out one day. Are you arachnophobic or scared of spiders in the least? Some, yes; others, not so much. This is very situational. Do you play WoW? What do you think of it either way? Haha, you're asking an avid player. I enjoy it, but not as much as I used to. At one point I was a Heroic raider, sometimes dabbling in Mythic, but now I'm just mostly a casual mount collector that likes chatting with my guildies and just doing dailies 'n shit. I owe a lot to the game, honestly; it helped me stay occupied throughout the breakup, and still today gives me something to do. What kind of computer do you have? Windows 7/Vista/XP/Other? I have an Acer Nitro with Windows 10. Are you taking any interesting classes in school/do you not attend? I'm no longer in school. If you don't attend, are you taking any "lessons" for anything? No, but I would like to join a photography course somewhere. A book/piece that has had an exceptional impact on your life? Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo just made me hate war more than I innately did. What genres of music are your favorite? Just metal as an umbrella term. Some heavy stuff, some less, some in the middle, some leaning towards other genres... but I just like metal. Do you think that fate plays a part in people's lives? No. Wouldn't "fate" just make it all... worthless? Like we're just storybook characters with a predetermined ending? What are your opinions on the media? One word: manipulative. What's a piece of technology you'd like to own? I REALLY want a PS4, especially lately. There's just a lot of games I REALLY want to play. Are you afraid of technology developing to where we're too reliant on it? We're already *too* reliant on it, which I do believe is a bad thing. I know, absolutely hysterical for me to be talking. What's your favorite odd ice cream flavor? I don't think I've ever had a truly odd ice cream flavor. There's this local place though that makes a kind that tastes JUST like s'mores, and I can fucking murder a cup of that. What's your opinion on stereotypes/labels? They're limiting and devalue uniqueness, imo. I know very, very few people who totally fit a certain stereotype, so why even bother. Like I don't care if you use them as adjectives to some extent, just don't put too much weight on them. Just be you. Do you believe that history repeats itself? It's not necessarily doomed to, but it happens sometimes, obviously. Would you rather learn from your mistakes or just undo them? Depends on the mistake. What was the most interesting class you had in school? Probably Mythology in high school. Do you write? If so, what? Yeah, meerkat role-play. And every now and again, poetry. Do you have a favorite culture? No; I'm not educated on nearly enough to pick one. Do you believe in global warming? Have you researched it? Lol no shit I do. I don't exactly think it takes much research to see with your own two eyes that it's factual. Do you prefer piercings or tattoos? Tattoos, if I had to pick. What comedy movie is your favorite? White Chicks. Have you ever meditated? Yes. Doesn't work for me. What comes to mind when you think of a great moment in your life? Realizing it was my choice to liberate myself and my happiness from my ex. He didn't and never should've carried it, because that's my right. What do you like about springtime? Aaaaall the flowers. <3 How have you handled having to stay in? It's not really different from my average day, so... How would your friends describe you? Quiet and overthinks literally everything. Have you ever hallucinated? When I was coming off a certain med in middle school, I saw black moving shadows. What (or who) is the best thing that ever happened to you? The partial hospitalization program I attended for two months following my suicide attempt. It's where I met my psychiatrist, who set my medication straight. Medicine besides though, I learned so many coping techniques and just how to deconstruct my trauma. As well as possible, anyway. What is the worst decision you ever made? Handing over the ability to make happiness for myself to another person. What is your favorite arcade game? Don't have one. Do you feel neglected? No. What school subject(s) are/were your best? English, Arts, Science. Are you allergic to pollen? Yep. What style of wedding dress do you like best? Probably ballgown. Are you over your first love? I probably never will be in complete totality. Do you always answer your phone? No. I only ever do if I recognize the number. Who was the last person you know to have a birthday? Today is actually my sister's birthday. What song is currently stuck in your head? I have Halocene's cover of "What I've Done" on a loop right now. It has me absolutely covered in goosebumps. Do you ever use coloring books? Not really anymore. Do you personally know anyone who is an author? Not to my knowledge, no. What’s your favorite kind of salsa/dip to go with tortilla chips? Just your normal, mildly hot salsa. Do you wash your car by hand or drive through a car wash? Mom's car hasn't been washed in... well, years, given its bumper. Mom worries that in a car wash, it'll be broken off (it is literally held on with a lot of zip ties and duct tape), and we ourselves don't want to wash it, so... Do you have any uncommon kitchen appliances, such as espresso machines, waffle irons, etc? I know we have one or two, but idk what they're called. What did your parents major/minor in in college, if they went? Dad never went to college. Mom changed her major a few times, but her latest was social work, I believe. Has either of their careers influenced what career you chose or want to pursue? Not at all. What kind of natural disaster is most common where you live? Hurricanes. Why is your least favorite season your least favorite? Because it's hot as fuck and humid. Have you ever had an animal get into your attic? No. When was the last time you started a “new chapter” of your life? I don't know. Hopefully I'll start one soon when I leave PHP and pursue a job... What room in your home do you spend the least amount of time in? I'm always in my room. Do you do anything to reduce the amount of electricity you use? I feel awful admitting I do quite the opposite... Being in the dark during the day affects my depression, so I'll have my lamp (or both) on even if it's just sort of shaded inside. Are you usually open to trying a new food that you aren’t familiar with? Eh, it depends on the food. I'm not very adventurous with foods though. Do you listen to Panic! At The Disco? I do. Have you ever had a kinky dream about a celebrity? ... It wasn't "kinky," but it was a dream lmao. Has anyone ever told you that they loved you, and you couldn’t say it back? That's how I ended the whole Joel childishness. Which friend do you confide in most? My mom. Do you wear a cross? No. What is your favorite doughnut? That's so hard. :( Krispy Kreme's normal glazed though probably takes the cake. I also love chocolate frosted and just totally plain, though. Do you have a hot tub? If so, where is it located? No. Did you read the Twilight series, or jump on the bandwagon after the movie? Neither. Do you or your parents rake your yard? Dad did growing up. Now nobody does or needs to. Who did you last go to the movies with? Dad, I think? What color was the last vehicle you were in? White. Do you have any family members in the military right now? No. Is there a ceiling fan in the room you’re in? Yeah. Have you ever heard voices? No. If you’re not straight, who was the first person you came out to? Sara. Do you remember the first time your first crush ever said hi to you? No. Do you ever go places with wet hair? Yeah, idc. Who is your favorite little girl? My nieces. What do you want the most in life? To feel like I made a difference, even a tiny one. If you could have anyone’s singing voice, whose would you choose? OBVIOUSLY Amy Lee's. What’s the most expensive thing you’ve bought that turned out to be a waste of money? *shrug* What’s something you’ve bought that turned out to be way more useful than you anticipated? Hm. Have you ever been on a ship? No. Would you ever date a disabled person? (Be honest) Yes. Would you rather adopt or have your own child? IF I wanted kids, which I absolutely do not, I'd rather have my own. I know I'd feel a deeper connection. What would you class as cheating on someone? As soon as you do/say something you don't want your s/o to know about, you're cheating. As far as earrings go, would you rather wear hoops or studs? Studs. Do you recycle? Yes. If someone dislikes you, what is most likely to be the reason? People have thought I don't try hard enough before. Do you put a line through your "7"s? Yes. ^ What about your "Z"s? Yes. What are you most known for? My art "skill," at least irl. How do you feel about shameless self-promoting? Depends on when, where, and how. As someone who's trying to be a freelance photographer, I get that it's sadly necessary, but there are some places it's just uncalled for.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''what i've done'' by linkin park

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oiloceansurfclub · 5 years

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Hamsters!

Here is some information on hamster care and behavior, for anyone who doesn’t already know, and for anyone who may be looking to get a hamster as a pet. I’m not a breeder, but I’ve done a lot of research on the topic (and own a couple hams of my own). I’ve probably forgotten a few key points, so I’ll add to this as needed. Also feel free to share your hamster experience, or ask any questions. I’ll answer to the best of my abilities! ❤️

1. Hamsters are not naturally aggressive animals. -This is the MOST common misconception I see with people who are debating getting a small animal for a pet. What turns a hamster aggressive, is the owner’s lack of understanding of how to care for the animal. Proper handling, treatment, diet, and general care will make for a happy hamster AND a happy owner! Read onward to learn more about hamster care.

2. Hamsters are crepuscular creatures. -Naturally, a hamster will want to sleep through daylight, or remain hidden if there is bright light in the room. Crepuscular animals are mostly active during dawn/dusk, though your hamster may also exhibit nocturnal behavior. If you try to awaken your hamster in the middle of the day, unless the hamster is used to you, you will likely frighten and/or irritate the hamster into acting aggressive and/or frightened. It’s best to let your hamster sleep through the day, and play with the hamster while it’s active in the evening.

3. There are different breeds of hamster, with varying needs. -Syrian Hamsters (or Golden/Teddy Bear/Fancy Bear) are the largest hamster breed, and are very commonly sold in pet stores. Males have noticeable scent glands on their hips, and large testicles under their tail. Females have noticeable nipples. -Dwarf Hamsters come in a few different breeds. In general, Males have one scent gland on their belly- their testicles may or may-not be so noticeable. It can be easy to misgender young dwarf hamsters, so make sure you are getting your hams from a reputable source.

4. Hamsters can not be housed together.* -Another VERY common problem I see with new hamster owners is keeping two or more hamsters together in one enclosure. Hamsters, especially Syrian, are very territorial. They are prone to fighting each other when in close proximity, and will even fight to the death. NEVER, EVER house your Syrian hamsters together. The hams you see living together in stores are still very young, once they are a few months old, they will begin to act territorial and need their own space.

*Some dwarf hamsters MAY be allowed to live together, so long as they are from the same litter, are of the same gender, and grew-up together. Should they exhibit any aggressive behavior toward each other, they should be separated immediately.

5. Hamsters will breed with their own family members. Believe it or not, many people still think that animals won’t breed with their own kin just because they’re related. This is absolutely not the case. If you choose to keep a small family of dwarf hamsters together, keep ONLY SAME GENDER HAMSTERS in one enclosure. Hamsters have a VERY fast gestation period and will breed more quickly than rabbits.

6. Hamsters do not usually eat their young. -A mother hamster will do what she can to care for her litter, and if you encounter a hamster with babies, do NOT touch them (unless you are a professional breeder who knows how to handle your hams). Mother hamsters may eat their young for a few reasons, mostly due to stress, or lack of food/nutrients. Leaving the mother be will reduce stress and let her raise her pups in a relaxed environment.

7. Hamsters can be trained. -Yes, that’s right. Hamsters are much more intelligent than most will give them credit for. Not only can your hamster learn your voice and its name, but it can even learn simple tricks with enough practice and patience! (and rewards... hamsters just love treats) If you spend enough time with your hamster (as you should daily), you’ll notice your hamster settling into a routine and including you as a part of its daily life.

8. Hamsters require a lot of space to live in. -Hamsters, especially the larger Syrian variety, thrive with ample space and bedding to burrow in. In nature, they spend hours every evening running around, gathering food, and digging their burrows. Syrian hamsters require a MINIMUM of 1′ x 2′ of space with at LEAST 2″ of bedding, but PLEASE aim for something larger. The more room your hamster has to run, the happier and healthier it will be, and the less stressed it will be!

9. Not all hamsters have the same personality. -Like people, hamsters will have varying wants and do-not-wants. Some hamsters may be more naturally passive, making them better for handling- while others are more skittish, requiring more personal space. It’s VERY important to be aware of your hamster’s personal preferences, and to not force your ham into doing something it doesn’t want to do. Taming your hamster can take weeks to months, be patient and reward your ham when it makes progress. Hamsters will associate behavior with treats, just like training a dog.

10. Hamsters are omnivores. -Similar to humans, hamsters can eat just about anything- and in the wild, they get plenty of animal protein, not just seeds and veggies. Be sure to keep a variety in your ham’s diet! Some hamsters enjoy meal worms and other insects, but cooked unseasoned chicken or cooked egg can also be a good source of protein for your ham. Hamsters can also eat dairy, though it’s not the healthiest food, a small piece of mild cheese or dried yogurt can be a fantastic treat and motivator while training. -Food bowls are good, but you should also sprinkle seeds around your hamster’s enclosure to give them something to forage for. This allows your ham to fulfill one of its natural needs, and give it something entertaining to do.

11. Give your hamster a controlled environment. -One key note on keeping your hamster’s stress levels low, is to make sure it’s in a comfortable room. This means keeping light down low, keeping noise to a minimum, and making sure your ham’s room is a comfortable temperature. For Syrian hamsters, 65 - 75 degrees F is the golden zone. Any colder or warmer and you’ll need to make adjustments. A cold rock placed inside the habitat can give your ham something to lean against when they need to cool down.

12. Get the right wheel. -I cannot stress this ENOUGH. There are so many wheels available, and most of the ones you find in pet stores are UNHEALTHY and DANGEROUS. Getting a wheel that’s too small will give your hamster back problems, reducing life span and increasing stress levels. -DO NOT BUY MESH WHEELS. Hamsters’ toes can become stuck in mesh wheels. Only buy a solid wheel, free of any bumps or divots, with a solid back so your hamster is not exposed to the wheel mechanisms while running. Most smooth plastic or solid metal wheels will do fine.

13. Give your hamster something to chew on. -Hamsters teeth grow constantly, so they always need chew toys. Specific types of wood, stone, seeds, and other hard materials can be put in your hams’ enclosure. Make sure the toys your provide are safe, as some things can be toxic and/or lodge in your hams’ digestive tract.

14. Hamsters can be potty trained. -Yep. Potty trained. While hamsters cannot control their bowel movements, they can control their bladders and will often choose a spot to go in. Observe your ham, they will usually choose a spot on their own and keep going in the same area. When cleaning this area, be sure to leave a tiny bit of soiled material behind so the hamster remembers where to go.

15. Never bathe your hamster in water. -Getting soaked can be fatal to a hamster. Never, ever get your hamster wet. A sand bath can (and should) be provided as a way for your ham to help cleanse itself. Do NOT get chinchilla dust, as the fine silt can clog a hamster’s airways. Instead, look into all natural reptile sand.

16. Hamster Balls -This is a very divided topic for most hamster owners. Some say a ball can be a fun way for your hamster to entertain itself, others say to stay clear of using a ball altogether as it can be dangerous. Here are a few pros and cons to keep in mind: -Pros: Gives your hamster a way to run around a room without the potential for getting lost and/or stepped on. Can fulfill the need to explore a wider space, and provide entertainment to you and your hamster. -Cons: Some hamsters dislike the ball and become stressed and scared when placed inside. Unsupervised hams can get lost and/or become injured while inside the ball. Some may even be able to break free and escape. Use your better judgement. If your hamster doesn’t seem to be enjoying the ball, stop use of the ball altogether.

17. Cages -This is another debated topic among owners, and it’s best to use your own judgement while observing your hamster. However, there are some general rules to keep in mind: -If your cage has bars, be sure the bars are small enough that your ham can NOT fit its head between them. If a hamster can fit its head into a space, the hamster can fit its entire body through the space, and escape. -Hamsters will almost always chew on bars. While this isn’t always a bad thing, it can sometimes be a sign of stress. Also, bar chewing is -very- noisy. -Hamsters will climb on bars. Again, not always a bad thing as climbing is a natural activity for a hamster, but it can lead to injury if there is not ample bedding beneath in case they fall down- or if the cage itself it too tall. -Large bins can be used as enclosures. A large storage bin, cleaned and free of any residues, can make a great space to keep a hamster. Be sure the bin has plenty of airflow- cover it with a metal mesh top instead of a lid. Also keep an eye on your ham, as they can and will chew through plastic if they are able.

-Aquariums and terrariums can make great homes. Just like other small animals, hamsters can live in a glass enclosure. Keep in mind that airflow isn’t as great in these setups, so the smells your ham generates will become more potent. You will need to clean these enclosures more often than others with greater airflow.

18. Cleaning -Hamsters make a lot of mess and stink for such small animals. Males may even mark territory, increasing the potency of their odors. It’s important to note that your hamster cannot control its bowel movements, and will go wherever it happens to be at the moment. -Spot clean daily. If you see any poop or pee, scoop it up and toss it out, replace with clean bedding as necessary. -Full cage cleanings depend on the size of the enclosure. Smaller cages require more frequent cleanings. Larger cages can go up to a month before full cleans, as long as you spot clean frequently. -Do not throw out ALL of your hamster’s bedding with a full clean. Your hamster becomes familiar with its own scent, and knows its home based on odor. When cleaning, be sure to leave a little bit of its old bedding in the cage, so it doesn’t get confused/frightened when placed into a clean habitat. -Hamsters are very clean themselves. Like cats, hamsters groom all the time. They like to keep themselves spotless, though it’s still important to wash your hands before and after handling, for your safety and for your hams’.

19. If you are able to do so, adopt from a shelter or a breeder. -Most rodents at pet stores come from rodent mills, which are facilities where rodents are mass-bred to be shipped out to pet stores. These animals are generally treated badly until they reach their final destination. While pet store hamsters can be good pets, they can also be more difficult to warm-up to their owners, and will be harder to train. On top of that, purchasing small animals from pet stores encourages rodent mills to keep mass producing (and harming) these critters. Independent breeders and shelters care for their animals, and will provide you with the best possible pet candidates, as well as supporting humane ways to treat small animals.

20. Do Your Research -This is just a bare-bones write up on general hamster behavior and care. If you’re looking to get a hamster as a pet, PLEASE research the type of hamster you’d like, and ALL the specifics that go into caring for your new friend. Just because hamsters are generally cheap at a pet store, does NOT mean they are always cheap to care for. They can require vet visits and special diets, just like any other animal.

Hamsters are small animals, but they are still living, loving creatures who deserve proper treatment and care. And with proper treatment and care, your hamster can be an incredible companion who will enjoy your company as much as you enjoy theirs. ❤️

#hamsters #hamster care #small animals #rodents #pets #small pets #important #pet care

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vegajoyce · 4 years

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Sims 4 Cat Got Sprayed By Skunk Eye-Opening Tips

Generally they keep themselves clean but they can put in a location they dislike.Now on to your household-even changing your behavior on them.Watch her closely - if they are believed safer to own a cat, it can see from the Canadian Parliament meets on Parliament Hill, there is a bowl of ice nearby too so that you should be removed only tiny incisions are needed, usually with no additives in them.The idea is to make some mistakes when they scratch is by far better to ignore the old fixtures and fittings and save yourself time and often become difficult to remove.

Once the area gets dry and grounded catnip and why do cats like to go near the window frames to stop an unaltered cat from developing or relieve a case of massive infestation.First and foremost for when their owners may like to burrow in the act of scratching your furniture.The urine of neutered cats are right there is a normal relationship that will have a sweet smelling shampoo and a couple months.Make sure there is no way willing to care for your cat.Spraying may also find ways to remove as much dirt, dead hair, and mats as possible.

And indoor cats also have a dog once that had suddenly presented itself.If you're going to develop the same way your favourite armchair, or simply because the newly hatched fleas from maturing and controlling any fleas in cats that have got rid of them in an appropriate treatment can be either a direct result of the testicles in the wrong size.Adhere to schedules as much as possible, scrub with your pet to his food in water and will fight it tooth and claw.Continual scratching in a manner remains mostly a mystery.This will save on your bed, attacks your feet are his ears, eyes, and tail.

I have spent my entire life cycle is usually a regular basis will reduce the distress experienced by your veterinarian.It will chase mice, hunt doves and do not enter the eyes and tail.They are also suggested, as some commercial brands are.Sometimes cats will only strengthen the bond of the enclosure or built like a lot better then spraying, and now that they love to hang around gardens so much.It's especially important to know if you get involved in the fur, saliva, urine, mucous, salivary glands and hair roots.

Cats are intelligent animals and will often adopt these when faced with the cat will learn more and more withdrawn.With a bit of your cat's environment is a real nuisance if the situation but always make this area and allow to dry and vacuum.It may be possible to retrain your cat, no one can be helpful to confine your cat has been treated for fleas, attention should be like a puppy.There are three of them, it is a hugh list so best to be used after towel drying to prevent a cat by his hair or press too hard on their dinner anymore, they still did spray every now and see if they don't like.For example you may consider that option.

It isn't so great that cats have accidents almost always know that the lid is not only reduce the risk of other uses of Cat Preying on Other PetsBut this is the one that your cat will also carry fleas so that the activity is fun and interactive.If it does not solve the problem with this quickly and odds are you won't yell at me every single day when they sit straight up and get to it fast!If your cat has started spraying, neutering may help, as your kitty.Watch for the very least cause skin eruptions.

Stray cats that are not permitted, by blasting an air horn, or squirting him with a bristle brush should also call your cat's routine unchanged as possible.These cats aren't as lavish and obvious in their path.Hypoallergenic bath oils for people to treat new stains or odors.The price of cat urine stains is believed to eradicate cat odor.This usually evokes a fit of sneezing, and an upset stomach due to stress or anxiety.

Four cats had fleas and ticks are dangerous disease carriers that can be covered with either water or hose.If he goes to scratch and claw at the same colour.Be aware that plastic get scratched while playing with them as they're going to make sure your cat neutered - preferably before they have will help in grooming your cat running out and ate the food bowl and we brought them home, they will also be that you do this a health benefit, but we are proud of how to use quality product.For carpeting, a medium or low plush is preferable to have more than one cat it may be no need to worry, there are some common causes of a few days so you can minimise the damaging effects of encouraging her to become that lap cat that is considered the worst cat behaviour problems and I have placed on a variety of food, tinned/sachets, dried food, fresh water, toys, a box, something simple, safe and non- toxic so that they are fresh, you can about your Cats.A second benefit of litter unchanged will help.

4 Year Old Cat Peeing On Floor

We didn't know how to massage their heads.You must make sure he/she has fresh water is gone.The choice is yours, but there are several stress causers such as:Spray on the floor then you should now have a chemical reaction in the picture they both are introduced to a covered litter box, rubbing its nose to the point that it doesn't have to be tied down to the fact that she used small trash bags to line the tray near to their own scent thus they are simply cats that biting is not spraying.Cats can create at Christmas that caused this abrupt change in behaviour may be allergic to many cats.

When females are unlikely to be that way.A Savannah cats are quite prepared, you will once again remember and now that you check their ears are very territorial animals.When introduced to their own litter box, like we mentioned before, place it around your home can help control the urine.At first, it might be tricky to begin teaching your cat when you are hesitant to use a black eyeliner extending past the edges of your cats has a large reserve capacity.Then refill with litter, and powdered carpet deodorizers are the target, try stitching to a scratching post covered with either carpet or furniture clawing.

Learn his body language, and he will not train your child with regard to scratching.Ideally the best things to do if attacked?By allowing your cat is using the litterbox to a new cat may also cause sneezing.Make it a bath in the majority of the eyes and the stain and odor.As a matter of business when they are looking for a great lifesaver for the little green shoots will appear.

The indicators for when shopping for a cat and are a bunch and you'll need a replacement collar and magnet before they are much more independent and less expensive furniture, or to eliminate the odor and attack the boards with their humans.It is important to spend minimum $2, max $5.Note: You should use a spray with a person.Every cat is choosing to breed your cats are too scared of the word!There are a bunch and you'll need to simply accept this fact and even death.

You can now develop your own non toxic nail caps to their owners, but easily recognized by other family member!You then must thoroughly douse the spot with the products make up.This means it gets a lot of pretty colors.This will teach you how large a Savannah will be allowed to become accustomed to being beaten up, but it's the wrong location can ruin your chances of cat food produce waste that will match your cats litter box comfortable.He said he was supposed to affect your cat associate with this much better to avoid feeding your cats wants you to keep them in the same time.

Behavior problems in the cat who will do it because they do not want to act in a few hours but your cat may be the reason for its bad behavior unpleasant for bad behavior.They will nip at your heels and the way that will attach to the metal.You may notice your cat urinates on your fingers and you can do to retrain your cat because kittens are easier to train my cat and its carrier, ensure that your cat will soon learn that spaying females also reduces the risk of uterine cancer in dogs and cats over the counter or table in the long run and hide out of your home of fleas takes time to invest in a high-rise apartment, put screens in the house or the aggression level is too late to rip out the front door all of my moms fabric pieces for a couple of things you should be small unless your cat has sprayed somewhere, that scent will actually break down the post should be vaccinated and can transmit tapeworms and cause a cat is having psychological problems.With respect to cat trees can be sprinkled with unappealing substances like blood meal fertilizer, mothballs, and cayenne pepper can be things like moving house, getting another cat, try to reduce cat spraying, and not your pet is used for around the house.Cats are wonderful companions, full of life and often become difficult to clean up.

Cat Pee Get You High

This overpopulation could quickly lead to further bad behavior.When we say animals, we broadly speak of all the time.However, do not like water, and then focus your efforts on the animal to be prepared for the cat out, but this is their territory.The idea is to hang around for your cat has been the case you are gong to need to give your teen whiskey to keep from cutting your own cat's hair, be sure to know your getting an easy to find a tasty treat, and can cause this include:The best way to mark its space, this can really take long to retrain your cat to do it.

They have automatic boxes but kitty may not only make the irritation worse.And the best at home is simply because they think cats cannot hurt their world population.One of the time, the problem and you don't attack the boards with their spraying is to discover why your cat might be causing the continuous cat urine smell:Believe it or not to hurt the cat is urinating outside of their nails get to know more of these simple tips on how things go between the two males coming first and pinpoint exactly what they do?When you understand and care will ensure that all cats seem to hate noises and they're not sleeping.

#Sims 4 Cat Got Sprayed By Skunk Eye-Opening Tips #Remove Cat Spray From Walls

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dgcatanisiri · 4 years

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I had the thought recently about how the idea of “canonical character interaction is antagonistic which leads to them being shipped” is DEFINITELY representative of heteronormative attitudes - We have, for good and for ill, been brought up to believe that “pulling pigtails” is a sure sign of attraction between little boys and little girls, and this is then transferred over into a same-sex pairing. As a trope, this goes back AT LEAST to Shakespeare and The Taming of the Shrew.

Problem is, that’s NOT the same-sex attraction experience. The same-sex attraction experience is that someone of the same-sex shows us the smallest ounce of decency and kindness, we will spend years following in their shadow and building an image in our head of them being our perfect example of love.

*ahem* What, why are you looking at me like that?

Anyway, there are two particular examples in my mind that kinda emphasize just how this plays out when it comes to media and the fans reactions of same-sex pairings, at least on the M/M end. And they make a case for certain problems within fan communities, with the respective media they’re for reacting in different ways, and, in my personal opinion, show how the people running the shows and the fan responses don’t get the differences.

(Even though, yes, I realize, both of my examples are helmed by gay men - it’s not like their staffs were gay and the studios were not, so that is less of a thing for the purposes of what I’m trying to say here.)

So, example one: Glee. Glee is, rightfully, a dark period of time we are truly better off pretending never existed, but it’s useful for my point, so please bear with me. IN CANON, Kurt spent much of the first season hopelessly head over heels for Finn. This was an actual, ongoing subplot through the first season, up to the point it culminated in the mess it that it did we’re not here to go into that god I really could rant on Glee if I were going to...

Right. My point. Sorry. Glee does that to me.

Anyway, Kurt’s canonical attraction in season one was towards Finn, and, while we all knew it would never happen, that the intent was always going to be towards the heterosexual breeding pair of Finn and Rachel... At this point in time, when I was in the Glee fandom, the main pairing was Kurt and Puck.

Puck, the guy whose INTRODUCTION was leading a pack of bullies in tossing Kurt in a dumpster. THAT was where the majority of the fanfics I came across at the time were looking towards.

Fandom saw “bully and victim” and took it to “Puck is expressing his repressed feelings for Kurt by bullying him.”

And stick a pin in the concept of “fandom” in general, I’m going to come back to it after the second example.

Now, and brace yourself, because I’m about to say something positive in regards to Glee, the response on the show was to turn around and, the following season, not only introduce a new bully for Kurt who WAS doing what fanon!Puck had been doing, which lead to Kurt actively refusing a relationship with him, while also getting a canonical boyfriend. Yes, I call that a positive.

Because while I was closeted throughout my time in public school, I was still bullied and mistreated by other students, if not due directly to my sexuality. It did not lead to crushes on those guys. Hell, there were a couple of guys who spent a good amount of time pretending to be my friends, and if it had been a few years later, that might have become a crush. Instead, though, they revealed themselves before that happened and I completely cut them out of my life when they revealed themselves. And I’ve never felt bad about that.

The gay experience is not crushing on your bullies. It’s crushing on your friends, on the people who you know will be there for you. You don’t see the bully as “disguising their feelings.” No, that you’re gonna take at face value, because the alternative may well be dangerous to you. At least if someone’s been kind to you, they’re more likely to keep up that behavior. But why would you EVER put your heart - and your LIFE - on the line by telling someone who has shown you nothing but disdain “I’m attracted to you”?

Now, for the second example. If Glee was the good one (because the law of averages say it had to happen), then Teen Wolf is the bad one.

See, we all know that Stiles and Derek (no I am NOT going to refer to it by the ship name, I do NOT need that drama showing up in my feed) were considered the fandom darling.

BUT... They were the above “bully/victim” ship. Their interactions in season one were very distinctly antagonistic. Meanwhile, in terms of positive pairings that could be teased, there were a few - Scott/Stiles (bromantic best friends), Scott/Danny (Scott canonically cuts in between Danny and his Prom date so that he can hide the fact that he’s not supposed to be there by making Coach look homophobic), Scott/Derek (Derek talking about how they had a bond as pack), Stiles/Danny (”Am I attractive to gay guys?”).

But no. It was Stiles and Derek that became the runaway darling in the fandom. To the point that, eventually, the show engaged actively in queerbaiting, throwing them together more and more often, but ultimately never doing more than teasing before throwing female characters at the both of them.

(Granted, I also don’t think that any discussion of that particular ship is valid unless you also acknowledge the racism involved, considering that the ship itself features two white guys, while the other two characters I mentioned are, respectively, Latino and Hawaiian, very clearly not white - you will note that Scott and Jackson had a similar antagonistic relationship, and THAT pairing didn’t get much attention at all, despite not having any competition with the “main” ship. In particular, I think that it was entirely valid for Tyler Posey to have seen this reaction and condemned the ship, because it was basically people diminishing him and his character to focus on white guys, especially when you consider how often Scott’s traits ended up being transposed onto Stiles... Okay, this is starting to move beyond the scope I wanted for this.)

Now. back to the issue of “fandom.” Because you know... I don’t think the “fandom” of either of these pairings, Kurt and Puck and Stiles and Derek consisted heavily of actually gay fans - not that they weren’t out there, but I don’t think they were the bulk of the initial fans of the first season, only really coming on board after season two and the active queerbaiting. I think they were, at the time of the first season, heavily made up of teenage girls.

And I’m not saying this as part of the general habit that there is in media critique to just dismiss teenage girls as a demographic as cringey don’t-pay-attention-to-THAT-crowd. It’s just my observation that, for teenage girls, all the things we say about women in fandom exploring their sexualities are magnified - what’s the common observation, that women in fandom use M/M pairings to explore a “safe” dynamic that they can observe and play out harmlessly for themselves, something to that effect?

So that’s the awareness I’m coming into this with - those teenage girls (and I’m emphasizing teenage girls because we have high school dramas, where I’m fairly sure these are the primary audience) use the awareness that they had of “how relationships work” when it comes to heterosexual relationships and were simply applying it to their perceptions of the gay pairings they were looking at. That “pulling pigtails” is the trope this audience associated with attraction, and so it’s how they applied.

THIS IS NOT CONDEMNATION. I really feel I have to hammer this point - I am observing a trend, in the name of awareness and understanding, I am not trying to say that anyone who was doing this or is still doing this has done ANYTHING wrong here. I want that to be very clear. This is me having spotting this trend and wanting to give it some attention, because look at the age of the examples I’m offering - both these shows lasted for six seasons and have concluded their runs, I’m only looking at their first seasons here as is, we are not talking about recent stuff, just history of fandom. I could have looked at more and seen if there was a universal trend or just a trend of the times or what. While this certainly could be grounds for one, this is not me having done some massive research project consisting of multi-media examinations of fandom and queerness, I’m just connecting dots and trends that I have seen to look at this thing that, going forward, I would like to see us pay attention to and be aware of.

Because my point is (for the TL;DR summary) that same-sex attraction manifests DIFFERENTLY. To express attraction to the person who is mistreating you is to invite harm being inflicted. The gay experience is to pine from afar because they were nice to you. And, obviously, a straight person is not going to know this inherently - this is part of an experience that they don’t have.

I’d just like to see this recognized in the future when it comes to how people respond to and react to the popular same-sex ships in fandom - are they being shipped by actual queer people, or is it prominently the straight fandom using their view of things and latching on to a ship, rather than being actual queer fans expressing themselves.

Like, that’s one of my big things - I often don’t feel very... I’m going to hedge this as “noticed,” rather than any other term, within fandom a lot of them time, as a queer man and queer creator. The big names in fandom, writing for the popular ships, still tend to be female creators, which... I’m not discounting the queer women who are writing and making art and all that featuring M/M pairings, but I do feel like they get elevated to a point where the queer men doing the same creation do not, which can seem like a problem, even if I recognize that it’s as much an issue of who even picks up the pen or opens the word processor or whatever as it is a matter of promotion - I do recognize that it may be as much that queer men aren’t creating as much as it is anything else, there is a complex ball of interconnected issues pushing and pulling on one another..

It’s just a frustrating feeling of not seeing your experiences being given your voice - it means you have to depend on others to speak your story. Which, surprise, surprise, is not exactly encouraging to gay people, who’dve thunk?

#another angry queer rant #dg rants

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dyaz-stories · 5 years

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The Letter — Valentine’s Day Special

I wrote a little something for Valentine’s Day! It’s a modern, high school Inukag AU. It was more or less inspired by this MadaSaku comic; they now have almost nothing in common but there you have it. Hope you’ll enjoy!

Word count: 2,045

If there was one time of the year Inuyasha hated more than any other, it had to be Valentine’s Day. He’d be lying if he said that it wasn’t because he never received anything. That being said, Inuyasha was very good at lying to himself.

So, yeah, he didn’t admit it. Certainly not out loud, but not really to himself, either. Because what could be more pathetic than that?

The half-breed, wanting someone to love him? He knew what people would say. He could even feel the bitter taste their laughter would leave on his tongue.

At least, now, he had an excuse for people not approaching him. Something he had forged for himself throughout the years, because it was better to think that people didn’t like him because he was a dick than because of some things he had no control on. Then, he could pretend that if he changed his attitude, people would actually, y’know, like him.

The truth was though, that he didn’t really believe it.

Screw that; he didn’t believe it at all. But at least, he could pretend.

On Valentine’s Day, though, he had to watch as all those people, who despised him for what he was, practically groveled in front of his brother, one year above him. The status of demons and half-demons was just that different, and it was as though people couldn’t make a fucking connection between them. What did they all fucking think would happen, if Sesshomaru ever showed interest in a human?

Well, not Sesshomaru would or ever did. He kinda just accepted letters and gifts with a bored expression, but Inuyasha knew he threw them all away. Because yeah, apparently no one ever thought about how they were dogs and so they couldn’t eat chocolate.

Inuyasha would have survived Valentine’s Day much better if he could have just watched it from afar and thought of it as a moment of torture for Sesshomaru. But no, apparently he couldn’t even have that. Would be no fun if he didn’t suffer from that too, if he could get just one day of respite. One day when he wouldn’t have to think about how much better than him Sesshomaru was and how no one apart from his family could take interest in him.

Yeah, because no one could make him believe that Sesshomaru’s better behavior was why people took interest in him. The guy was pretty, but Inuyasha didn’t exactly think he looked disgusting — mostly. He also had non-humans attribute, like his ears, and most importantly, he was a fucking asshole. He looked down on absolutely everyone and he despised humans. He didn’t mind saying it out loud in front of them, and they still worshiped the ground he walked on.

That wasn’t the worst though. That was infuriating, but again, Inuyasha could have easily gone through that while enjoying Sesshomaru’s torture.

No, what he hated the most was that people fucking mistook them for each other. It happened every once in a while during the school year, but that day, it almost seemed like they did it on purpose.

Alright, sure, they both had long white hair, but that was it. They didn’t have the same morphology at all, Sesshomaru being all thin and slender while he had broader shoulders and just an overall more muscular frame. Also — for fuck’s sake, he had dog ears. He sometimes wore a bandana, when he didn’t feel like facing the looks in the street, but the thing was still fucking red. It was obvious.

Maybe he should have tried to be understanding and all about how hard it was to declare one’s love, but he wasn’t exactly known for being understanding and honestly, fuck that. They made no efforts to be understanding about him.

He remembered the first time, the way his heart had missed a bit, how hoarse his voice was when he had said “Thank you”. And then, the girl’s horrified look while she snatched the letter away, apologized, and ran off to his brother.

He didn’t remember her, hadn’t gotten a good look, but he just couldn’t forget her eyes. The horror and the shock in it when she had realized she had gotten the wrong Taisho boy.

He’d stood there wordlessly for a few seconds, trying to understand what was going on, his ears drooping on his head, betraying him even while he tried to keep a straight face. He had heard the laughs. He could still feel the burning in his chest.

He had only needed one time though; he’d adapted quickly, sending them away with a barked remark.

He refused to admit that it made him sad that he was always right.

So basically, he had been alone since as long as he could remember.

Unless you counted the Kikyo thing. Which, really, he didn’t think you could. It had been brief, something like a month, when the girl had talked to him, because they had worked together on an assignment. Back then, he had felt like… Like there was something between them. He had followed her like a lost puppy for a while, and then he’d realized that no matter what she felt, no matter if there was something, nothing would ever happen.

Because he was a half-demon.

That was easily the worst betrayal he had ever gone through.

Until he saw Kagome Higurashi crossing the wall towards him, keeping her head down, clutching a pink letter in her hand all while trying not to crumple it.

Well, shit.

If there was one person he wouldn’t have expected to do that, it was definitely her. Not just because she was just way too good for Sesshomaru. Also because he had never thought she could mistake them for each other.

While Inuyasha was a loner, Kagome Higurashi was much more social. She had a small group of close friends, but she could still easily talk to about anyone. And in her mind, that apparently included him. She was probably the person he’d had the most contact with recently, although, with her, came a monk, a girl from a demon slayer family, and a fox-demon.

Weirdest group ever, if you asked him.

Kagome was… She had that smile. Inuyasha had never been able to make people smile, except maybe his mother. But Kagome always smiled to him. She was kind. She had no way of knowing what it meant to him, everything she did, even if it was just saying hello, even if it was just nodding at him.

She was the one person he would rather pretend could like him, because the thought gave him some sort of feeling that he couldn’t get anywhere else. But right now, as he watched her walk towards him, and he just knew that the one she wanted to talk to was Sesshomaru, he realized it had been a terrible mistake.

Kill all hope.

Soon enough, she was bowing in front of him, holding the letter out. He could tell how much she was blushing, and honestly, he wished it had been for him.

“Keh,” he said. He wanted to be cold, biting, like he usually was, but he knew he sounded bitter and dejected. “Sesshomaru’s over there, woman.”

He pointed towards the tree under which Sesshomaru was standing, bored, waiting for the line of girls to hand him their letters.

Kagome looked up at him, then glanced at Sesshomaru, then back at him. She stood up, because her back was starting to hurt a little, and nervously readjusted her skirt.

“Erm, yes? Does… Does Sesshomaru take your letters?”

At this point, what Kagome meant should definitely have been obvious. But apparently, Inuyasha’s brain couldn’t handle the change in situation.

“Wha— No, he takes… What do you mean my letters?”

Kagome stared at him like he wasn’t making any sense. She was wondering whether or not she should take the hint and assume he was just trying to save her the embarrassment, or if she should insist just a little more. She waved the letter in front of him again.

“Your letter. It’s Valentine’s Day. I… I didn’t make you chocolate because I thought, well, you’re a half-dog-demon, so maybe you can’t digest it, but I thought I could treat you to some yakitori. I mean… I mean if you want to.”

Inuyasha slowly reached out to take the letter, his clawed hands brushing against her small, soft, human ones for a brief instant. Even just that touch was enough to send a pleasant tingle in his arms, and he wondered what it would feel like if she ran her fingers on his skin.

“This is for me,” he repeated. “Not for Sesshomaru.”

“N—” Kagome rolled her eyes, raising her hands in a gesture of disbelief. “If I wanted to give it to Sesshomaru, why would I be here?”

“’s happened before,” he mumbled, using one of his claws as a paper knife.

“You’re going to read it now?”

Kagome sounded horrified, and he looked up quickly, ears drooping again, afraid he hadn’t known how to respect procedure. But Kagome didn’t look horrified, she was just blushing and embarrassed, fiddling with her hair, probably having not expected to get anything from him just now, and to be honest, the show was much more interesting than the letter.

“Well it’s for me, isn’t it?” he asked, a grin making its way on his face.

She looked up, visibly ready to yell at him that yes, and then noticed his expression. He…was teasing. This was new.

Also, was it just her, or was that grin actually hot?

“I mean, it is. I just… I wasn’t expecting you to…”

She was absolutely fucking adorable, and he loved it. He wanted to keep doing that — keep teasing her and see how she would respond, studying every single one of her reactions. But… But if this was the sort of letter he thought it was (and honestly, why would she give another sort of letter on Valentine’s Day?), he would have plenty of time for that.

“I can read it later,” he said, hesitantly.

“Oh, well, you can read it now, I…”

“Maybe we can go, erm, try that restaurant you’re talking about.” Meat. God, that girl knew how to come for his heart.

Kagome shot him a bright, clearly relieved smile.

“Sure! And… And you can read it later, and, erm, you know, give me your answer later. At some point. If you want to.”

He grinned again. Yeah, he could get used to watching her like this. Even if she was rambling, even if she was getting angry at him, he felt that he could just… watch her. For a really long time.

“I already have the answer,” he said, his voice so low that she almost didn’t hear him.

Kagome blinked quickly a couple times. She’d felt relieved, but now her heart rate was picking up again, and terror filled her again. Her tongue felt like lead, almost impossible to move when she tried to answer him.

“You… You do?”

He smiled. She didn’t think she’d ever seen him smile before. Then, he held out his hand. He swallowed, feeling self-conscious at the gesture, knowing that he was displaying his claws, making them impossible to ignore but… But this was him. And if she had any interest in him, she would have to take both. The demon and the human.

Kagome didn’t hesitate, barely even looked at his hand, just staring in his eyes, that weren’t anymore human, before taking it. He wrapped his fingers around hers, amazed at how she felt, how small her hand was and how soft her skin.

This was real. This was actually happening.

“Let’s go,” she said, and Inuyasha was happy to let her lead the way.

He glanced at Sesshomaru, still standing under the tree, still receiving his declarations with a bored expression. Valentine’s Day still sucked — and if you asked him, it absolutely was a fucking commercial tradition.

That being said, good things could still come out of it.

And he would endure again thousands of Valentine’s Day, if in one of them, Kagome built up the courage to talk to him.

#inuyasha #kagome #kagome higurashi #inukag #inuyasha fanfiction #inuyasha au #my writing

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lord-explosion-baku · 5 years

Text

Rising Sun (part 2)

Prince!Kirishima x princess!reader

Warnings: swearing I think?

A/N: I finally got some ideas of where I want this to go! I edited the first part to have Mina be your old friend back home because I’d like to add more BNHA characters to this. Also Kirishima is gonna come off ooc but I gotta let you know that beneath his facade he’s still our Grade A Best Boy. Anyways here’s part 2!

Part 1

You awaken to the clanking of glass against the side table nearest to the bed. You stretch your body and enjoy the feeling of the freshly clean sheets against your skin. You’re still in the gown you had out on the night before and you hoped that meant that nothing troublesome happened. You open your eyes and watch a beautiful woman with bright red hair pouring water into a crystal glass. You’re thankful it’s not Anaya but you don’t expect this girl to be any less nasty.

“Water, miss?” She offers you the glass and you take it, realizing you had a pulsing headache. You really went heavy with your marital wine drinking.

She sits with you on the bed, keeping her back straight, and watches you finish your glass. She takes it back and says, “the prince told me to speak softly to you since you had a rough night but I do want to inform you that breakfast is being served now. Food from your kingdom to make you feel more at home. I must admit I did sneak a few bites of the potato hash and it really is quite delightful,” she sends you a soft smile. Maybe not everyone from this kingdom was horrible. “If you want I can help you find the dining hall after dressing you, if you don’t mind.”

You gaze down to the red silken gown you wore to bed. For something that was supposed to be worn to please its viewer it was incredibly comfortable. You smile at the thought of what the people in the temple might think if you went down dressed as you were. Maybe they’d send you home.

This is your home now, you have to tell yourself. You nod and allow the woman to escort you out of bed. Back at your old home, Mina, your chambermaid and friend, would swing pillows at your face and yell at you for sleeping the day away. You would laugh and hit her back. You were going to miss her terribly.

The woman who you learned her name as, Freya, helps slips yet another form fitting gown on. It’s white and shows off your bare shoulders while the sleeves have slits, while the rest of the gown flows freely down to your feet. Draconians’ attire consists usually of skin revealing uniforms since the kingdom was the warmest of them all and you were grateful to be put in something a little more tasteful. Maybe tasteful wasn’t the right word seeing as you were from a completely different world and you haven’t quite felt at home with their customs but you were content with with being comfortable.

Prince Eijirou stands before you are seated to his right. He offers you a kind smile and you bow respectfully at him. The long dining hall table is adorned with the finest morning foods your own kingdom had to offer. It was a kind gesture but nothing you should get used to. The room is lit up only by a few torches but the giant windows that showed off the rolling hills and tropical greenery brings more than enough light in.

When you sit Eijirou places a hand on your arm. His touch is warm and inviting and remember the way he made you feel last night before you… before…

You turn to him and he’s watching you. “Prince Eijirou,” he frowns slightly at your formality, “About last night…?”

“I put you to be bed,” he whispers back to you. He leans in close so the servers around you couldn’t eavesdrop, “no harm will come to you as long as you are in my temple. Especially not from me.”

You are flooded with relief. You didn’t feel like anything happened but you had to make sure. The man before you was your husband but you didn’t know anything about him, besides what you heard from a certain blue haired somebody who just glided into the room.

“Speaking of which,” he stands and everyone around him besides Anaya freezes. “Anaya,” he addresses her and she salutes him by putting her fist to your chest.

Hisses and growls escape her mouth and you can only assume she’s greeting him in Draconic.

“I’d like to have a word with you and I would hope to have it in the tongue that all parties can understand.”

Back home, ‘having a word’ meant taking someone aside and speaking to them one on one. You furrow your brow and watch Anaya send you a glare before turning her attention back to the prince.

“It seems that last night you did not fulfil your duties in tending to my bride.”

Anaya crosses her arms across her chest and sneers, “she told me she could handle it on her own.”

“And was that before or after you threatened her?”

Anaya raises her eyebrows. “I did no ssuch thing! I wass only giving her fair advice!” She shoots another glare your way.

“Was the advice warranted?” He waits for her to respond and it seems like she doesn’t understand the question. Eijirou begins to speak to her in draconic, his tone only seeming more dangerous through the rolling of his tongue and his growls. She hisses back and throws gestures into the air. She flinches only when he stomps his foot the ground. The table shakes.

“I see then… since you have such a narrow and tainted mindset I can only see you as being a threat to this kingdom and I have it in my right mind to banish you,” a hush falls across the dining hall. You watch Anaya’s face contort from fury to terror. The king himself walks into the room and crosses his arms, observing his son. Much like the prince, he displays his bare muscular torso with only an opened vest over his frame. He looks very much like Eijirou but with long wavy black hair that falls beneath his shoulders and many more scars, no doubt from fighting in many battles. He nods for the prince to continue.

“But I am putting your fate into my bride’s hands.”

Your eyes widen. You’re doing what?

Eijirou turns to you, “it’s your decision, Princess Y/N. We can have her banished for the crimes committed against you or we can let her stay.”

Beg pardon, your majesty? You don’t realize your mouth fell open until Anaya scoffs. Eijirou shoots her a look and she dismisses the ugly look on her face. You knew that one day you were going to have to make big decisions like these, at least for your kingdom. Hell, this didn’t seem all that big compared to the declarations of war your father signed your kingdom into. You didn’t think that Anaya had gone as far as committing any crimes against you, though you didn’t like her the second she opened her mouth.

You remember telling your father that when you were going to be queen you, were going to be a kind and forgiving one. He said that’s not what your kingdom needed. He ruled with an iron fist and you were to follow in his footsteps. That was of course, before losing so many good people, even your friends, in battle.

You bow your head, “let her stay.”

Anaya brings a shaking hand to her mouth and she cries out. You think she’s upset but she then she salutes you.

Eijirou doesn’t change his tone as he speaks to her. “Be grateful that you’re future queen is far more forgiving than I am. Let this be a warning: if you ever come near my princess again with malicious intent, I will not hesitate to have you take your leave by tying you to a barrel and having you float your way to exile.”

You shudder at his threat that felt more like a promise. Maybe Eijirou was a brute.

Anaya excuses herself and you watch the king leave. Eijirou sits back down. The servants around you avoid talking and Eijirou starts tapping on the table. He lets out a shaky breath.

“Thank you,” he says. You look to him and he’s staring at his full plate. “I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted her banished but I’m glad you said not to.”

You don’t know what to say. You begin turning your glass full of what you think is pineapple juice, a fruit only found in this kingdom. “I believe empathy can go a long way. Carrying an open heart can only open the hearts of those who surround you,” that was something your mother used to say to you. You pick up your glass and take a sip. Definitely pineapple juice. You are thankful for such a delicacy.

“That’s why you’re going to be an incredible queen,” he turns to you, “but if Anaya ever bothers you again just call her a nurh-rhyvos-maurg.” That was a mouthful.

“What does that mean?” You take another sip of your juice.

“Ugly cow breed.”

You spit the pineapple juice back into the cup and cover your mouth. Eijirou’s crimson eyes shine at you, happy to see you laugh. “So she has a sense of humor!”

He takes a napkin and dabs at your face. That was too intimate for your liking. You take it from him and smile, “of course I do. I just didn’t expect you to have one.”

He gives you a funny look and smiles to himself. “There’s a lot that we don’t know about each other yet. I know a lot of Draconians seem barbaric at first and as a future king I have to play such a merciless role but… well, I’ve met actual barbarians. They’re not half bad. And as a king I have to be assertive so my people will take me seriously. I’ve accepted the role but there’s more to me than my status.”

You’ve said that to your father plenty of times in one form or another. It was almost reassuring, knowing that you and your husband had at least one thing in common.

“nurh-rhyvos-maurg,” you practice saying it. Draconic is mostly rolling your R’s and and elongating the S’s but when it comes to words like ‘maurg’ you had to sort of growl.

“Trust me, it’s a big insult for Draconians. Nurh-rhyvos-mmAURg,” he enunciates the last word and his sharp teeth are flashed at you. It’s kinda cute the way he growled the word out.

“And what do I call you?”

“Mrrandii, which means ‘husband.’”

“And what do you call me?”

“Memamosal, for ‘wife’ and vorel for ‘beautiful,’” he grins as your cheeks are dusted with pink, “but I prefer ithquant because you could only be described as divine.”

You didn’t think it was possible but your face turned an even deeper shade of red. He takes the opportunity to lean in close to your ear and whispers, “sia vorel vur ithquant memamosal.” You nearly melt at the way his low voice rumbled in your ears. You turn to see him staring at your lips. “My beautiful and divine wife…”

You find yourself leaning closer to him. His pupils dilate, only making his crimson eyes an even more vibrant ruby. His lashes are dark and long and nearly ran you as he blinks. Your lips are a hair away from his before the two of you are interrupted by the Draconic growling coming from behind you.

Eijirou sighs and turns towards the man who addressed him. They have a conversation you can’t understand while you pick at your plate, wondering what the hell you were about to do. You were going to kiss your damn husband which is fine. You’re fine. Everything is fINE.

Eijirou clears his throat and takes your hand. “There are some customary festivities going on in town today. It’s actually pretty common and we’re not expected to go,” he bites his lip and you fixate on his teeth. Why did you think they were so cute all of a sudden? “Normally I would encourage anyone to go to these things but they can get pretty loud and well, last night…”

Ah. You are very hungover. You furrow your brows, “how loud?”

He brings his hand to his neck and gives you a sheepish grin, “let’s just say our wedding was pretty hushed compared to this.”

“Oh…” you stare down at your half eaten food. Is there a polite way to refuse?

“We don’t have to go! I’d just like you to know what’s going on in our kingdom. We can always go to the next festival, there’s plenty!”

“Well, you should go!” You don’t want to keep him from having fun. Besides that, you really wanted to have some time to yourself to think.

“I don’t want to leave you here by yourself. What kind of man would I be if I left my lady here waiting and bored out of her wits?”

“I won’t be bored. I’ll… go exploring! What kind of queen would I be if I didn’t know my own castle?”

You can tell he is being resistant but you really need to be alone. You place your hand over his and he stares at it. This was the first time you had instigated a touch. You bat your lashes at him, only half guilty for using your charm to get what you want. “Please?”

“Maybe I’ll have someone escort you around?”

You shake your head. “That won’t be necessary. Sometimes being alone and getting lost is the best way to find yourself familiar with oneself and their surroundings. I’ll do fine.”

He frowns at the word ‘alone.’ He leans back in his chair and his brows narrow in concentration. His eyes light up and he grins, “Yeah, okay. That’ll be good for you.”

You have half a mind to ask him what he means but you don’t. You don’t want him to change his mind so instead you kiss him on the cheek and watch his face flush.

You don’t see him change for the festival. You’re only informed of when he has left and you begin your investigative stroll.

From the outside, the temple stands high and proud but seems rather small compared to the inside. Your castle at home was large enough to house the royal family, your servants, and five other noble families. Though the temple is larger than the viewer’s eyes it only houses the royal family and a few of their servants but the town isn’t a long journey away. The temple is smaller because it wasn’t meant to be housed at all when it was created. It was to be a house of worship for Draconians. They have an ancient following that is derived from the first appearance of dragons or so you are to believe. You thought that was very interesting since your kingdom was basically built through power with a big help from magic. That’s why the high priestess is hailed almost like royalty.

Outside, your feet are greeted with warm sand that surrounds the temple. It’s not hot enough to burn you and it’s really quite inviting. Draconians don’t wear shoes and you weren’t offered any when getting dressed which was fine but you were thankful for the lush grass you found after strolling outwards, not wanting you feet to get too dusty. As you walk you taken in the air that is rich with a sweet aroma of the tropical fruit growing nearby and the slight hint of a burning wood that follows you whoever you go. It was an odd mix but fitting for such an odd kingdom.

You balance your feet and walk in a straight line, one foot in front of the other, and think about your place in this kingdom. You were going to be their queen and Eijirou, your king. You grew up knowing that you were going to be a queen somewhere but it was finally happening all too fast and in the place far too foreign. But you did it for a just reason. You did it for peace. And you are going to be a good queen but how can you be so sure of that if you can’t have your own husband touching you without panicking? You blamed that on Anaya but you’re not sure if things would be different if she hadn’t threatened you.

You’re lost in your head when the ground starts to shake. It happened so quickly that you’re not sure if you imagined it or not. It shakes again and you lose your balancing game. Your eyes shoot up and your gasp.

About fifty meters away, clear as the sky, a Herculean creature, mighty and proud with gorgeous sanguine scales that shine as the warm sun hits them, stares at you. Your first encounter with a dragon.

Part 3

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#bnha x reader #bnha #bnha imagine #bnha reader insert #reader insert #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #fantasy!kirishima x reader #fabtasy au #eijirou kirishima x reader #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader

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diveronarpg · 5 years

Photo

In fair Verona, our tale begins with BRIELLE KING, who is TWENTY-TWO years old. She is often called BEATRICE by the MONTAGUES and works as their SOLDIER. She uses SHE/HER pronouns.

The first time she laughed, the world paused to listen, and it hasn’t stopped since. It was almost as if she knew her surname was a MOCKERY from the moment her mother whispered it behind her first; fate’s own cruel reminder that she was the farthest thing from a princess, and her father the farthest thing from a KING. Born the first daughter of a man who ate of the crumbs from a rich man’s table, she was raised not in the lap of luxury, but at the feet of it, always close enough to touch it but never enough to take it. Such a life might’ve driven a lesser girl crazy, but the curse of wanting more fit her far better than any sweater her dear mother could’ve made her, and instead of buckling under the weight of everything she hadn’t been given, she THRIVED under the pressure of helping her father put food on the table, of climbing—rung by rung—out of the gutter. People often speak of losing one’s innocence young, but she didn’t lose it; she shed it like a winter coat in the first days of spring—out of necessity. With dark eyes keen enough to see the world for the ridiculous thing it is and an elastic heart tough enough to wake up and face it every day with a smile, Brielle King is a woman under no ILLUSIONS about the world and the people in it—aware but not bitter, kind but not soft.

For the first eighteen years of her life, everything began and ended with a prestigious Thoroughbred farm on the outskirts of St. Petersburg; it was at once a prison and a HOME, the very place that had shaped her into the young woman she’d become and the very place she longed to leave, and it was for this reason that her departure was as delayed as it was premature—before her mother was ready to let her go, certainly, but not soon enough.OPPORTUNITY made itself at home in the curve of her wrist, did its bidding in the form of a stable hand too spoiled to do his own work and too arrogant to believe she could do it better, but she did, and the consequences they were dealt when she was discovered doing his job were nearly as surprising as the fact that—for a poor groom’s daughter—she excelled at it. Within months, she’d been hired to ride in low-profile races, had begun to help her family out of the gentle hell they’d fallen into every time she chased the wire. She was FEARLESS in a way few others her age were, because she’d seen what happened to those who weren’t—people like her mother, who cringed every time she raised her voice, people like her sister, afraid to say too much lest a boy think she had a mind of her own, people like her father, who had been on the ground for so long he’d forgotten how to pick himself up.

The only thing harder than catching her was reining her in. Fiercely independent and doubly driven, she spent long hours at the track perfecting her rugged art; she OUTRAN every doubt risen against her, laughed up at those who looked down on her. There’s something to be admired about girls like her, girls utterly unafraid of calling the world on its bluff and bold enough to demand a response—girls who revel in the stability of having both feet on the ground and the freedom of flying in equal measure, for that was what she was: a woman rooted in the burden of having NOTHING who allowed herself to dream of the high of having it all. She was hungrier than she’d ever been in her life when she raced, the type of HUNGER no feast could satisfy, and even a blind man could’ve seen it. And see it her benefactor did, though he was the farthest thing from blind as there ever was. He’d confronted her in the stables long after the other patrons and even the owners had left and made her an offer she’d have been a fool to refuse, and a fool was the one thing she’d resolved herself to never be—an opportunity to ride in the west, in the city of love. She left for Verona the following week, having said her goodbyes and readied herself for the next great hello, for the only thing more tragic than leaving the city that had built her was choosing to stay.

If the city and the people in it seek to swallow her whole, to make a meal of her as most wolves do to girls who strayed too far from the path, they would do well to stick to victims that have never known hunger themselves, that wouldn’t know a trap if it dragged them straight to hell, for her suffering did not make her cruel or hard or vicious; it made her WISE—wise to a city far tamer than the one she came from and all that it holds dear, and wise to the inclinations of people enslaved by greed and other false deities. And perhaps it made her hopeful, too, for unlike most cynics, she wouldn’t mind being proved wrong. Thus, here she stands, and here she’ll stay: a woman who wanted the WORLD and dared it to deny her, a woman who conquered with neither pen nor sword. There’s a reason they never told you that the hardest hearts shatter the easiest and that wanting doesn’t make you cruel: the world can’t bear the thought of being held in the palms of hands that have shed no blood for the privilege. Only time will tell whether she’s earned her chance.

HUGO KIM: Indebted to. Heaven and hell are at war within her, a holy crusade brought about by a man intimately familiar with both. Her pride—one of the deadliest sins, she’s heard, but a keepsake from home all the same—insists that she has no reason to associate with the servant of a God who let her family damn near starve; to pretend she’s made her peace with it all seems its own form of blasphemy. But her humility—a product of her simple upbringing, surely—counters that the God he worships might be making up for lost time in him, or at the very least, that he deserves to be seen for who he is instead of what. She knows the weight of a judgmental gaze better, perhaps, than anyone, and for all her reservations about him, he’s been kind, something of a rarity in Verona. Far be it for him to make a disciple of her, but he might one day call her friend.

BERNADETTE DU PONT: Caution. If the time she’s spent in the mob thus far taught her anything, it’s that Verona is a city of gluttony; of overindulgence; of greed in all of its maleficent forms. But as she got more and more submerged in the muddy waters of Verona’s underworld, Brielle has come to realize that perhaps it might not have been the city itself that has taught her as such but rather, the symbol of rot that it harbored; the renowned Bunny Du Pont. She can’t put her finger on it but something about them screams excess and not the kind that she stubbornly abstains from but the kind that breeds chaos. It’s an unfounded perception because outwardly, Bunny is merely an image of elegance; of saccharine frailty and blunt edges but Brielle can’t help how her gut knots with distaste and her shoulders tense with discomfort when she’s around them. She has never known fear but she imagines that sensation to be as close as she’ll ever get.

CATHERINE DALY: Interest. The Daly girl reminds her of her sister sometimes, all well-mannered intelligence and edges on the cusp of being sharp. She’s bolder than her little sister was—far less concerned with offending than she is telling what she feels is the truth, and over the course of several weeks and a handful of chance meetings, Brielle has come to admire her for it, to wonder at the steel nerve of a wrongly underestimated girl (perhaps they’re kindred spirits in that respect). Her presence conjures up the warmth of a hearth fire long abandoned, a sort of familiarity she hadn’t realized she’s longed for. It hit her like a freight train one morning as she listened to the younger girl talk about her father that she just might like it here; if Catherine Daly can make a corner booth feel like home, surely she can make something of an entire city.

FARON VASILIEV: Mentor. He is a pinnacle of pride and prestige; a flesh-and-blood testament to the sheer power that a family name can hold and it was for that reason that Brielle’s initial reaction to him was nothing short of wariness. Yet despite the distance she was careful to maintain, her keen eyes were able to spot the cracks in his flawless veneer and before she even realized it, distrust became a long-forgotten notion and only admiration was left in its wake for not even their differing lineages could overshadow the threads of commonality that bound them together time and time again. She sees her righteousness reflected in him and knows that it is what wills her to remain steadfast, to remain in this place. Indeed, those traits were rooted in selfishness and ambition for Brielle but for Faron, they were tethered to the principles of loyalty and justice. As such, he is pure in all the ways she is not and all the ways that she could be. Even when he seemed to drown in the shadow of the vengeance he so desperately sought, he was still pure in her eyes. A kindred spirit in every sense of the term.

Brielle is portrayed by COURTNEY EATON and was written by BREE. She is currently TAKEN by ROGUE.

#rp #rpg #bio rp #lsrp #lsrpg #courtney eaton fc #w #tw #mont #brielle king

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cassandra-rp · 5 years

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I can’t pick a narrator style. :U

Intella curiously peered out the window as she sat in the passenger seat; Jonathan had surprised her firstly with the fact he had a car and secondly that he knew how to drive it...He wanted to take her for a drive and she didn't mind, reading quietly most of the time but occasionally talking with him... The city had disappeared as the cement turned to dirt and the buildings to trees. The dirt path winded and soon they rolled up onto a older house; it was in disrepair... She recalled the description of the house as she looked at the sage paint that was chipped away and the stone path. "Our house..?" Intella asked; her notebooks described a place like this once.

"Yeah... I'd completely forgot about it." A sadness lingered in his eyes. Intella pursed her lips as she recalled the notebook's description of the lifetime; It was beautiful but ended in horrors. Axel had rewritten it after her death and despite her pushing he refused to tell her much aside from the fact it was to much for her heart to take again... "Why are we here..?" She asked after a moment and Jonathan softly smiled as he rolled up his sleeves. "I have somethings I think you'd like to have that I believe are in the attic here still...If the elements haven't gotten to them." He turned the key back and tucked it into his pocket before hopping out, Intella following along although some part of her hesitated.

Jonathan pulled another set of old key's out of his pocket as he hopped up the stairs; they warped and sagged with each step; Intella using more caution as she walked up behind him. The keys pushing into the rusty lock and a loud click as it unlocked; pushing it open. The inside had survived better; although dusty and extremely musky it was far better than the outside.

Jonathan navigated easily through the rooms until pulling down the ladder to the attic, dust sprinkling onto them as he tested it before climbing up, pushing open the top. "Well..It looks like they're still intact." He thought aloud as he lifted himself up inside the attic, Intella waiting at the bottom as her eyes scanned the walls, vague memories lingering in her mind until the ploom of dust and a box lowered into her vision, her hands taking it from Jonathan carefully; followed by two more. Jonathan slipping back down and easily landing on his feet as he dusted himself off, Intella curiously popping open the box on the top of the stack she'd made, a few binders full of paperwork and notebooks. They were clearly Jonathan's - less organized and he had a habit in a hurry of writing upside down in his notebooks. A diagram written out with notes beside it filling two pages caught her attention. "What's this?"

"Well. From what I recall I was documenting family histories during this period... Mostly because it was right about when we realized the Inferno clan was getting absurd." His arms slid around her as he pointed at the notebook she was looking at. "This one looks like Constantine's..." Intella raised a brow at that as she examined the names. "I've never heard of half of these people..."

"Mhm. I don't recall all of it but I'm sure we can trick Axel into revealing the rest of it..." He lifted one of the boxes as he spoke, smiling. "I also am thinking about renovating this place... Just for something to do." Intella smiled a bit and nodded. "I figured." She took the second box, lifting it and following Jonathan to take it back to the car. ---

"Zelda Constantine...?" Intella raised a brow as she read through Jonathan's notes and Axel glanced up with a pondering look on his face. "Zelda was the first Constantine as far as I know. She wasn't born into a family so she made her own. She was determined to never beg again... " Axel pursed his lips and Intella nodded, reading.

Zelda was homeless for as long as she could walk; she didn't remember a family or anything except the rainy streets of the run down town. She begged and worked and often getting abused in more ways then one for her efforts. It didn't breed hate or resentment but simply determination to never be in the situation she was in again.

And so she worked; There was a few note worthy moments that Intella catalogued. "Apparently she knew me..." She flicked back a page or two.

It was always just simply known as old money that the Constantine's had. No one knew where it all came from but now she did. Ironicly it was Byzantine. Zelda was turned in her late teens and discovered the metal that burned her. Unlike other vampire's she wasn't effected by sunlight or water. Upon investigation she and Intella had determined the weaknesses were essentially from the elder vampires inbreeding to keep the vampire genes 'pure' but it resulted in other issues... Zelda wasn't one to support the idea of harming one another but she knew it'd be profitable; and it was. She mined it and sold it to hunters and others and it didn't take long until she lived on the hill herself; As she grew she mined other materials... Diamonds and other jewels. But Byzantine was always one of her main interests.

It wasn't long until love came into the picture; A man named Theo Watson. He was from a similar background to her although a little different. His family disowned him and left him and his sister to the streets; he'd been working his way up the chain at a newspaper for the last few years and finally was CEO. His sister, Rose Watson. She was a drifter though as the two got married Rose also took Zelda's last name. The two wishing to disassociate from there past. It was considered very uncommon for a man to take his wife's name. Intella found it was a common trend with Zelda to break the norms of the time and she supposed that's why they'd been friends. Rose was interesting... The more she read the more she kept wondering if she was reading about Tera. And attractive dark haired woman with every curve in the right place and a list of men who disappeared within her presence. Hell; Red seemed to be her signature color.

And of course then there was children shortly after that for Zelda and Theo at least; A boy named Vincent who was incredibly gifted from a young age and also happened to be and incredibly resilient vampire. At least by today's standards. "Axel.. A lot of this sounds like it was early 1920's yet I know for sure that December has been around longer then that - I mean she was a queen." Intella's eyebrow quirked as it did whenever she knew Axel had a hand in something; His shoulders shifting a bit. "Keep reading." He simply added.

So, she did. It was fairly standard; Rose and Issac met, A criminal pair made in heaven and soon gave birth to a son named Julius. The four and there two children remaining quite tight knitted until the children were teenagers; Theo died in and accident on his way to work and although Zelda grieved she didn't allow it to stop her in any sense of the word; Vincent was put ahead in high school due to his intelligence and was already getting scholarships from universities desperate to have a rich and intelligent student such as himself.

Julius was far more average; Always a few steps behind his cousin. What he lacked in intelligence he made up for with his communication skills... His parents could talk there way out of anything and he was even better at it as he could even talk people into doing things. Business seemed to be a good calling for him and since mining wasn't as profitable as it once was he put himself into learning from his aunt Zelda everything he could about business.

Vincent was the first of the two to find love as he met a lovely intelligent woman named May Newton; A scientist with a fascination for all things abnormal and supernatural. She hardly flinched when he first bit her as she was more curious about how it all worked. And despite the dark things she spent her time reading and working on she was always a bright ball of sunshine.

The two of them finding and artifact that Intella was far to familiar with now a days; the amulet was broken roughly two months ago; The symbol was Axel's and the same one tattoo'd on his back, It allowed for temporary time travel but was a danger to Axel's well being..So she begrudgingly agreed to destroy it. And sure enough a few tabloids Jonathan had gathered talked about the disappearance of Vincent and May. Zelda splitting her will between Julius and vincent soon afterwards in case her son ever returned but trusting her nephew with her legacy.

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