#scrutinized luna | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tiny012 · 4 months

Note

That scene were the girls comfort Usagi in her time of need in Crystal depicts their friendship better than the entirety of the old series. In the '90s anime, aside from the first two seasons with MAJOR exceptions and the R movie, it seems like the girls really don't want to be in the same room with Usagi and only support her because she's the princess and Usagi supports them because they're her guardians. It's quite apparent what detractors define as "friendship" is really....

having Usagi being the butt of jokes and scrutinized by the girls for her weight, her grades, her study habits, her worth as a partner/girlfriend to Mamoru, and her leadership skills. There was always a certain mean-spiritedness to it. The fact that many consider the '90s anime the pinnacle depiction of friendship says a lot about the fandom, IMHO. They really believe numerous episodes of the girls and Luna lampooning/ridiculing Usagi constitutes as "friendship".

I will say this over and over again until I'm blue in the face.

Usagi and the inner senshi relationship in the 90′s anime feels like employees who have to put up with their boss who they constantly feel like they are incompetent. But instead of keeping those comments to their self ,they say it in those comments in the boss face. Which they act like they can do a better job than the boss. Instead of giving constructive criticism in order for their boss to be better they bash their boss with ever chance they get. Due to the fact that boss have low self-esteem ,she puts up with it instead firing their asses and telling them to go fuck themselves. In which she will do the job herself like she been doing anyway since they always show up late and don’t do shit.

Like Usagi wasn’t what they signed up for when they agree to reawaken as Senshi but remember Serenity and being her protectors.

It's like ( I'm taking this a little bit from Blackmanta who did this well)

Senshi and Luna For the Majority of the Season: Usagi you can't do nothing right! Stop being a lazy crybaby! You need to stop eating, sleeping, reading manga and focus on your grades which are sooo bad and study! You are never going to get in high school if you keep acting like that! Mamoru should be embarrassed of you and shouldn't want to marry you if you don't pull your weight! No wonder he dumped you for a while! You need to be more mature to be worthy of him. You are not pretty enough to be with him either. You are such a slacker when it comes to the enemy! You are not leadership material at all Usagi. You need to be focusing on the enemy and not whining over Mamoru or because Chibiusa ate the last piece of pie. You need to be more nicer to Chibiusa because she is a long way from her parents and needs love! You are going to be big as a whale if you keep eating all these sweets. You are such an idiot. Why is Mamo with you again? You are not " pure" if you got Seiya in your house knowing that you supposed to be with Mamoru!

The last few episodes aka big bad:

SHE'S OUR BESTEST BEST FRIEND!!

SHE IS SOOOOO PRECIOUS TO US!

SHE'S OUR PRECIOUS FRIEND!!

SHE'S IS THE GLUE THAT HOLD US TOGETHER!

SHE'S DONE MORE FOR US THAN ANYONE!

WE CAN'T DO NOTHING WITHOUT HER!! ( cough which is the truth cough)

IF YOU USE THE SILVER CRYSTAL YOU'LL DIE SAILOR MOON!!!

WE CAN'T LOSE HER!!!

WE WAS ALONE BEFORE HER!

WE NEED YOU USAGI!

WE ARE NOTHING WTHOUT YOU!!

WE LOVE YOU USAGI!!

What kind of bullshit is this?

You spent majority of the season talking about her ass like a dog ( especially Rei and Luna with sometimes Ami say some cold shit) then when it comes to last few episodes when she saving everyone ass then want to kiss her ass and act like you love her. I remember someone on reddit said that Mamoru only act like he love her when she is dying. Which to me the 90's Senshi act like this.

( Cough But for some reason people want to say the manga/crystal senshi is kissing her ass because they are nice to her and appreciates what the fuck she does for them... Since she feels like she is returning the favor since they protect her so she's going to protect them. cough )

But everyone want to say the Manga and Crystal have this type of realtionship where the Senshi are just servants/ protectors to their " princess" and it's no real friendship. Which they aways bring up Dream Arc where their collective dream was to protect her and her prince, the earth AND each other.

People keep forgetting the each other part so bad.

In which Usagi said the extract something is the fact that she want to protect the earth with Mamo AND protect her friends.

Her Friends aka Sailor Sesnhi aka her Sisters

Which for some reason just because we don't see it people think they don't live their individual dreams or find love ( if they want to) because they are " slaves" aka bound to Usagi and only Usagi is able to found happiness.. ( Even tho her dream before the collective dream was to be married, have 2.5 children, and live in a house with a picket fence not a Crystal Place protecting people and earth. People forget that .)

Which if you read the damn manga which you should know Usagi fucking character, that's not going to fucking happen.

She would want to live out their dreams and be their biggest cheerleader doing it.

#tanya rants about sm

11 notes · View notes

drarrily-we-row-along · 2 years

Text

Day 195.2: Hobbies (Part 2)

You can read Part 1 here, if you'd like. Or read this as a stand alone; all you need to know is that Harry learned to make Turkish Pottery.

Draco stood in the doorway, quite certain that he couldn't be seeing what his eyes thought they were seeing. There was no world in which he could be staring at Harry Potter.

If it was Potter, he seemed to have grown even more attractive in the four years since last Draco saw him. Where his hair had been shorn close to his head, it now was long enough for him to pull into a messy topknot; his face had been clean-shaven and now he had a neat, tidy beard. He'd been in pristine, formal auror robes at the last function they'd happened upon each other during, and now he sat with his legs spread wide around the kick wheel, jeans tattered and splattered with clay, wearing an olive green Henley that made his bronze skin glow, sleeves rolled up exposing his forearms, hands covered in clay.

And Draco couldn't think, couldn't even form words, because in no world was it acceptable for someone to look that fucking hot when they were that fucking messy.

Finally, he found his voice, since Potter was just sitting there and staring right back, the piece he'd been constructing now a crumpled heap of clay. "Potter?"

"Err, both by name and by trade," he replied, "yes."

And Draco couldn't quite help himself, he huffed a laugh, because this was so ridiculous, so utterly preposterous, that what else was he meant to do?

"I'm guessing you're surprised to see me."

He huffed a laugh, "I think anyone would be surprised to see you here."

(Read more below the cut)

Potter hummed, scraping the white clay off the wheel and dropping it into a bucket as he moved to standing. "I'd like to keep it that way, if it's all the same to you."

He took a step back, "Are you going to try to obliviate me?" he asked, not keen on having anyone mess with his mind.

The other man blinked at him, "The thought hadn't even occurred to me." He went to the sink and washed his hands, "I was just going to ask your price for keeping it a secret," he added, looking over his shoulder at Draco.

"Oh," he replied, shoulders easing a bit. "No, of course. I won't tell anyone."

Potter raised an eyebrow and turned around, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the sink. "What's the catch?"

"No catch," he insisted. "I'm sure you had your reasons for leaving. Circe knows I've thought about it enough," he added. "I would like to purchase some of your work though, if you're amenable," he said, since that was why he'd stopped here in the first place.

Those keen green eyes, scrutinized him for a moment longer, weighing him, before deciding to drop whatever thoughts had been swirling around his head. "Sure," he said easily. "That's why I'm here," he added with a shrug.

"Your work is," Draco shook his head, "mind-blowingly incredible."

Potter laughed and Draco watched from the corner of his eye as he pushed off the sink and wandered over closer to where Draco was looking at the wall of tea sets. "Thanks."

"Do you do it all by hand?"

The other man looked over at him, "As opposed to?"

"Using magic?"

"Oh," he said, eyebrows raising like the idea surprised him, "Yeah, everything is handmade. I," he shrugged, "use magic to help with cleaning up but the whole point of starting pottery was to have something to do with my hands. My magic-" he broke off, "well. I'm sure you read the papers when it was splashed across every front page."

Draco had been exceedingly curious about that, "Well, one never knows quite what to believe when reading those rags," he said.

The corner of Potter's mouth quirked, "That is," he sighed while he searched for the right words, "refreshingly nice to hear."

He hummed, "Well, I like to hope that people don't believe all that they read about me."

"What brought you in?" Potter asked, graciously changing topics.

Draco laughed, "Luna has one of your tea sets," he said, gesturing to the display in front of him. "It's beautiful," he added. "I asked her where she got it and she told me the name of your shop. Didn't bother to mention that it was you running it, though."

Potter chuckled, "That checks out."

He picked up a pretty blue teacup, examining the intricate designs all of the different shades of blues and the one cheerful pop of yellow.

"Well," he said, "I'll leave you to look." He caught a loose curl and tried to tuck it back into his bun. "Let me know if you have any questions."

Truth be told, Draco had a thousand questions. And some of them were even about Potter’s work.

Nonetheless, he couldn’t quite bring himself to ask, it wasn’t his place, and anything that he wanted to know was ultimately just to satisfy his curiosity about where Potter had gone, what he’d done while he was there, and why he’d left.

Eventually, after picking up various pieces to test the way the different cups felt as he held them in his hand, he settled on a set that was a deep, earthy brown on the outside, glazed until it looked almost wet with how shiny it was. But it was the inside that Draco was really taken with. The inside was painted with blues and teals and whites, it looked like a constellation exploding into being and he couldn’t wait to have a cup of tea and watch the image appear as he drank it.

“Find something you liked?” Potter asked, looking up from a bowl he was painting.

“So many things that I liked,” he replied with a laugh.

Potter smiled at him, bright and earnest. “Thank you.” He set down his paint brush and moved to the counter so he could start packaging the tea set.

Draco watched his sure, graceful movements as he wrapped each cup and the double pot in paper and tidily boxed it up.

After paying with his muggle bank card, Draco said, “thank you. I,” he swallowed, “I won’t tell anyone you’re here.”

Potter leaned his elbows on the counter, green eyes searching Draco’s face. “I believe you,” he replied.

The other man reached out to hand Draco the box and their fingers brushed and Draco was shocked by a jolt of magic so strong he couldn’t help but gasp. It didn’t hurt, it was a sort of pleasant tingling that he felt race up his arm and then down his spine leaving something bright and hot in its wake.

“Shit,” Potter hissed, wandlessly catching the box with Draco’s tea set in it and holding out a steadying hand to Draco but not touching him. “Sorry. Godric, I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

He nodded, “What was that?”

“My magic,” he shook his head, “it’s close to the surface sometimes. It doesn’t happen with muggles,” he hastened to add like he thought Draco might be worried that he was breaking the statue of secrecy. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not hurt?”

He shook his head, “it didn’t hurt at all.”

“Oh,” Potter said, as though it was a surprise. “Most people say it’s like when you get shocked with static electricity.”

“I’m fine,” he repeated, not entirely sure how to say that it had felt nice without admitting that was the case. “It just surprised me.”

He held out the box again, keeping his fingers back, and Draco took it. A small part of his brain was tempted to reach out and touch him again, to hold his hand, see if prolonged contact would lessen or strengthen the feeling.

He resisted.

“What did your healers say was causing that?” he asked as he walked backwards toward the door.

“No one knows,” Potter replied with a shrug.

He frowned, that was a bit disconcerting. “I’m a healer.”

“I know.”

Something thrilled in the pit of his stomach to know that Potter had kept tabs on him. “I specialize in psychological and trauma induced magi-care.”

The other man tilted his head, “for people who’ve suppressed their magic because of trauma.”

“Sometimes,” he agreed. “But also people for whom the opposite it true.”

“My understanding was that your work largely revolves around children and teens,” Potter replied, obviously making the connection between what Draco was saying and what he was implying.

He hummed, “Sometimes,” he affirmed. “Often, even. But I don’t specialize in a particular age group. The field has grown quite a bit in the past few years,” he said, leaving the ‘since you’ve been away’ left unsaid. “I’d,” he swallowed nervously, “be happy to see you, if you are interested. A lot of people really struggled right after the war and the wizarding community has never been good about mental health care. It’s possible that your healer-” he broke off and cleared his throat. “Well. It’s possible that we know more now than we knew then. That’s all I’m trying to say.”

Potter stared at him for a long moment and Draco had to resist the urge to fidget and start talking again.

“Well,” he said again. “Here’s my card, in case you ever decide it’s something you’re interested in.” He flicked his business card toward Potter, using a little wandless magic to help it arrive at its destination.

Then Draco turned and fled the shop without waiting for anything more to be said on the matter.

————————————

To be continued.

#drarry #part 2 #100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #oof #the author is a dirty liar.#there will be more than 2 parts #I have no self control #planning to finish up the next (hopefully final?) part tomorrow #healer draco #harry potter takes up pottery #Potter Harry Potter

228 notes · View notes

artvitorianoir · 4 months

Text

What not your sure Luna x tanner

#scrutinized #art #my art #digital fanart #scrutinizedgame #scrutinizedtanner #scrutinized luna #tannergrayton #luna youngman #arte #fanart

1 note · View note

fandomwritingbit-main · 9 months

Text

Just so the person who requested the Tanner fic knows, I'm going to do it. I swear I will. My mental health isn't great rn, but I'll get there x

#tanner grayson #scrutinized #luna youngman

2 notes · View notes

tacticalhimbo · 1 month

Text

hiii here's a work in progress. it's my iteration of luna from scrutinized (wttg / reflect studios) 💕

do you care her? 🥺

#txt #pic #my art #work in progress #wttg #scrutinized #luna youngman #also it's a more casual fit okay she is a fashion icon. to me.

5 notes · View notes

fandomwritingbit · 2 years

Text

Tanner kidnapping a (fem)reader pt. 2 (mdni)

Hi! Sorry this has taken me so long. In all honesty, I was finding it hard to decide where I wanted this to go- but it’s here at last. The tone is different from the first part, ngl.

Notes: Aftermath of part one. (Fem)reader kidnapped by Tanner is trying to get herself free but that certainly ain’t going to happen.

Warnings: kidnapping. violence. needles/syringe. drugging. reference to dark themes.

The room was a whirlpool of 70s era colours when you finally came to, it was hard to make anything out, all you could focus on was the rain outside. Hard, pissing-it-down rain bouncing off tarmac, and very occasionally the sound of a car going past.

Your eyes were struggling to stay open, and it takes you much too long to remember why: you’d been drugged. Injected in the throat in your own bedroom by that psycho you’d found hiding in your cupboard. That man in the lab coat- what was his name? God, whatever he’d put in that syringe was taking a long time to wear off.

Forcing them to stay open, you try to get a look around wherever you are: its cold, that’s something, the walls and floor were dark and solid, concrete you’d have to guess. Looks like a basement. How very original. You nearly laughed at that thought, be it due to mounting hysteria, you couldn’t tell.

Training! You’ve had training for a situation like this, fuck, if only you’d paid attention. All you could remember was to stay calm. Panicking was illogical after all.

Yet it was becoming increasingly more likely, as you come into the knowledge that your hands and feet are bound to the chair you’re sitting on. At least it was tape- you’d have a shot at breaking that. You try pulling up your arms: to no avail. They weren’t moving an inch. Then it occurs to you that perhaps it’d be easier to break the feet first, then you could use your weight to break the hand bonds. And so, you kick your legs out from the chair as hard as possible on the count of three.

One. Two. Three. Instantly, you send the chair tipping back and you along with it. Your head smashes brutally against the floor.

So much for your training.

Coming to, for the second time, your head is pounding the rhythm of Toto’s Africa. You’d been put up-right again, meaning that someone else had been here. You look past the blinding headache, quickly scanning the room and your eyes land on the man from earlier.

“At last, you’re awake... I was getting worried for a moment.” The oddly handsome assailant stood before you, a small smile on his face. His coat was crumpled and dust-marked, probably from getting you up from the floor. He moved to opposite you, his hands grasping a chair in front of him. Perfectly manicured fingers tapping near silently on its back. It struck you as a nervous action. Good. You can play off nervous.

“Quite the hit to the head you took there. How’re you feeling?” He spoke with an out of place jovial infliction and you couldn't tell if he was mocking you or not.

“In pain.” You reply bluntly, “Pissed off and tied to a chair.” you add.

“Not so nice, is it?” He grinned, reminding you that if you’d got the better of him before, you can do it again. “But I’d have thought you’d know better than to throw yourself on the floor.”

He began stepping forward but upon seeing your eyes widen, he stopped midway.

“You must be worried. Realising you’re in a basement- and we all know what happens when the kidnapper gets the pretty lady in the basement.”

“Lay a finger on me and I’ll castrate you with my bare fucking hands, you sick freak.” You make your voice low and serious, eyes brimming with malice. Head tilting back with laughter, he pulls the chair closer to you and takes a seat.

“Relax. I’m only kidding, besides-” He didn’t have the time to finish before you speak again, continuing your intimidation.

“When I get out of here, I’m going to-”

“If.” He says with a shrug, causing your breath to catch in your throat. “If you get out of here, you’ll have to be a lot nicer to me for that.” You feel your face twist into a scowl. Clearly your idea of scaring him into letting you go wasn’t working.

Abruptly he stands, walking over to a table against the wall.

“You’ve not had a drink in over ten hours. You must hydrate.” You nod, quickly determining your new course of action. If you want to have the strength to get out of here, you’ll need that water.

He approaches with the glass in hand, proffering it to you when he got close enough. Though you knew it was necessary, you eye it suspiciously, he could have done anything to this after all. Seeing your suspicion, he drops his shoulders in faux exasperation.

“There’d be no sense in drugging your drink, y/n.” He reasons with an eye roll. “If I wanted you asleep, I’d just leave you and the floor to accomplish that yourself.” You grunt at the jeer, nodding your head in acceptance of the beverage. Arguing to yourself that the situation could hardly get any worse and so why not have a drink? He brought the glass to your lips and you begin drinking slowly with caution. But you quickly realise your thirst, becoming greedier and more reckless, as you drink the water, your captor mumbles, “Good... good.”

When finished, you watch him take the glass back and place it back where it came from. Again you clock how he was fidgeting, his hands playing with the hem of his coat and it occurs to you: you’d though perhaps he was nervous, that’s why he projected restlessness. In your flat he’d done the same and you’d assumed agitation the cause. But now you’re struck with the idea that maybe he was nervous or agitated because he’s impatiently waiting for someone. An article you’d read previously crosses your mind, something about a trafficking ring and his earlier comment about a ‘pretty lady in the basement’ seemed much more sinister now.

“Hey, listen uh... Tanner. right?” You internally congratulate yourself for remembering that what with your ordeal and all. “Perhaps you and I got off on the wrong foot, you have to understand why I’d be... aggressive.” Attempting a smile, you hope looks pleasant rather than a grimace, you see vague amusement flicker in his eyes. “You don't have to do this, you know? Whatever I’m digging too deep into- I’ll stop. You could take me somewhere and drop me off, cover my eyes so I don’t know where we are? And I uh wouldn’t report it! God knows it’d look bad on me anyway...” The concealed laughter in his eyes had devolved into a full-blown grin, his perfect teeth exposed at your expense. Fuck, you’d love to smash a brick through them right now.

“Why would I go through all the trouble of getting you here, just to waste more petrol undoing it all?” He giggled, dragging a chair opposite you and sitting down. “I understand your aggression, I’m sure I’d be the same way.” You try to go along with him for now smiling at his unnecessary comment. He’d sat rather close to you, close enough that you could touch him, if your hands were free...

“Why am I here?” You ask, not trying to show your thought process, a plan had occurred to you and all you needed was time.

“I have a friend, who has a problem with you, y/n. I say ‘friend’ our mutual interest in you is what brought us together. And they want to know what you know- about them.” You nod, that was something at least, something you can use. The news of this being informational gave you something to bargain with, but how he looked at you suggested that for him, maybe he was in this for something else.

“I see.”

“Your work is quite impressive, I must say. There’s not grave you won’t dig up, huh? I’ve followed you for quite some time, and it is all really admirable.” He spoke like a fan who wanted an autograph or some shit and although it had scary undertones, you sensed he was telling the truth.

You let him speak of your accomplishments a little longer, only listening as much as you had to, focus diverted on loosening your foot restraints: part 1 of your plan. But as you did so, trying to engage him as much as possible your eyelids begin to feel heavy. It must have shown, because he waved a hand slowly in front of your face, a grin spreading across his cheeks.

“Fascinating...” He murmured. You had known not to trust the drink he offered you, and you still did. The room felt velvet around you, comforting almost but to your surprise you weren’t rendered unconscious.

“I must confess I haven’t been entirely honest. What you’re experiencing now is the effect of sodium thiopental.” You looked at his hazy frame, unsure of what he wanted you to say to that.

“Truth serum?” Your eyebrows must have raised because he laughed. “Though not clinically proven, I have high hopes for it. Let’s test it, shall we?”

“How old are you, y/n?” You screw your eyes closed for a moment, trying to overcome the drug but eventually give in.

“27.”

“Good. Now where do you live?” You parrot back your information to him like you were filling out the fucking census, giving him all the answers to questions he already knew. He seemed delighted by that.

“Those were all easy questions, to test your compulsion to tell the truth, let’s try something a little more personal.” Though slightly out of it, you don’t miss the way his gaze lingered on you for a second too long. “What colour panties are you wearing, y/n?

You scowl, more than wanting to kick this weirdo’s head in but you spit your answer, “Black.”

“Wrong.” He said, making the sound of an incorrect buzzer. You lean forwards as far as your binding would allow it and look at him through your eyelashes.

“I must’ve forgotten.” You say acting the part of a flirt, voice sounding like you were twirling a strand of hair on your fingers.

He laughs and does the same, his head coming close to yours, “Perhaps you-” You cut him off by slamming you head against his hard, barely feeling the impact for the adrenaline and the sodium thing-mabob. He grasps his face in pain and taking you chance you kick his chair as hard as you can, knocking him to the ground.

“You should really pay more attention to your captives.” You spit at him, grabbing the syringe from the counter. All that stupid quizzing had given you a lot of time to wiggle your legs free, and the momentum of your standing had made easy work of the restraints on your hands.

“Stay the fuck down or I’ll-”

“What?” He shouts from the floor, blood on his hands from the cut you inflicted on his brow. He looked from it to you in disgust. “You’ll stab me? Do what you want, y/n. But it’s a 12-digit numerical code on the door. You’ll dehydrate before you get out. Laws of probability.” Whatever silly demeanour he’d had was gone, shattered when you cut his face.

“Fuck.”

#scrutinized game #scrutinized tanner #tanner grayson #fanfiction #scrutinized luna youngman #tanner x afab reader

56 notes · View notes

shining-gem34 · 7 months

Text

||A little short drabble following @etherealguard post here

ENJOY IT, LUNA! HAHAHAHAHA

---------

The journal opens of their own accord.

Every detail of Dan Heng experience in his dreams, he recorded it all within these pages. They flip one by one, the black ink starts to glow a faint turquoise.

As if summoned, a ghostly shape of the past appears. An ethereal man in white and silver with majestic horns sitting at the crown of his head. Yet where there used to be a pair, only one horn remains on his head and the other a stub. Opening his eyes, a pair of vivid turquoise hues observes the room before him.

The archives, Yinyue Jun recognizes.

Then his gaze lands on the figure hunched over the desk.

Dan Heng, Yinyue Jun smiles and walks over to him.

The High Elder footsteps make no sound, leaving behind him a trail of water ripples and blooming lotus flowers. He stops to examine Dan Heng again, surprised to find him fast asleep. A rarity considering his treasure stubborn nature for many reasons. Regardless, Yinyue Jun grabs the nearby blanket and places it onto his back.

Another pause, Yinyue Jun eyes narrowed to scrutinize the item in Dan Heng hands. They widen upon recognizing it; a horn.

Not just any horns, but his horn

"I see." Yinyue Jun shuts his eyes, "Some time has passed since we said goodbye."

Dan Heng had grown not only physically, but mentally as well. He no longer needed Yinyue Jun guidance to help him understand himself as a person. Eventually, the High Elder will disappear and return to the sea of their souls.

His treasure is no longer a hatchling clinging to his father hand. He is a grown man that must let go of him and blaze the path he had chosen.

Yinyue Jun shouldn't be here.

He shouldn't be here as a spirit haunting Dan Heng. He shouldn't be here witnessing his silent mourning. He shouldn't be here because of his own selfish wish.

Selfish, the High Elder will always be selfish to the end because he never had a chance to express his own desires freely when he was still alive.

But just this once, Yinyue Jun wanted to see his treasure today.

"I'm sorry, Dan Heng. I cannot be here long, because if you see me- Everything we have done will be undone at the seams." Yinyue Jun said somberly, reaching out to pat his head gently. A faint smile drawing his face seeing Dan Heng frown at the touch. "Today is a special day for you, little one. I'm not sure if you remembered the day you were born."

He retracts his hand back to pull something out of his sleeve and places it on the table next to him. A jade stone of a deep green color with a beautiful dragon carved into it.

"My skills are subpar compared to the Furnace Master in my era. However, I hope the sincerity of my gift makes up for it." The High Elder chuckles to himself.

When his form starts to flicker, Yinyue Jun sighs realizing he has little time left here. He pats Dan Heng head again, "I am no longer here to help you, but you are strong. As long as you don't lose yourself, you'll be alright."

"I am proud of you, Dan Heng."

Yinyue Jun places a gentle kiss on the crown of his head, "Happy birthday, my treasure..."

Then he pulls away, taking a few steps back, and spent the remaining few minutes watching his son peacefully sleeping. His vision slowly fading just like his body, and soon Yinyue Jun was no longer there.

The only thing that remained as proof of his presence was the jade stone and the scent of lotus blossoms.

#moon drinker (il)#shackled prisoner (angst/serious/gore)#etheralguard #one day the dream will end: Imbibitor Lunae & Dan Heng (etheralguard)#jade writes (drabbles)#||I KNOW THAT THERE ARE NO OFFICIAL BIRTHDAYS YET #||JUST ASSUME IT IS A BIRTHDAY AT ANY DAY EVEN TODAY IF YOU MUST #||GHOST IL HAUNTING YOUR ASSES #ENJOY HAHAHA

11 notes · View notes

sitp-recs · 1 year

Note

Hiii! I was wondering if you could please help me find more fics where HD are like scrutinized by the public/the Prophet, and then Harry has to come out and defend Draco and their relationship? I just need that comfort of protective Harry doing anything for his love ❤️

Hi anon! Hmm I can’t think of something that specific with Harry publicly defending Draco but here are some fics where either Harry or both deal with press/public pressure. I hope they’ll work for you:

A Song, Incomplete by RurouniHime (E, 11k)

Draco’s photograph took up the entire top half of the Prophet’s front page. Below the photo: DRACO MALFOY DEFENDS SON OF FORMER LOVER. As if that were breaking news.

Of Mirrors, Farms and Quidditch; AKA Luna Fixes Everything by twistedmiracle (M, 23k)

Harry's got his whole life under control, and everything is great! Well, except for the bloody, hideous press. And he's kinda… lonely.

Expecto Patronum by Writcraft (E, 35k)

Harry Potter is the most sought after celebrity in wizarding Britain. His every movement is scrutinised, his relationships questioned and his photographs plastered over every paper.

A Walk in the Snow by oldenuf2nb (E, 38k)

Harry retreats from the world after being outed in a spectacular and cruel way. Will Draco be the one to heal his wounded heart?

He Who Must Not Be Normal by lettered (E, 41k)

Potter has fame and fortune and posh clothes and all he wants is a simple life. Draco has a flat and a cat and a steady job and all he wants is a complicated life. Which makes you think this story has something exciting like body-swapping, but it doesn’t.

Little Compton Street (One Rainy Night in Soho) by Writcraft (E, 65k)

Draco is lonely, Harry hates the press and it won’t stop raining in London. Harry discovers a magical street that’s close to disappearing forever and Draco realises he’s one rainy night in Soho away from finding everything he’s been searching for.

When Times are Dire by aibidil (E, 130k)

Magical Britain is screwed, and it's once again up to Harry to save it. This time, by marrying Draco Malfoy.

#asks #anon #recs #press

37 notes · View notes

lotus-il · 8 months

Text

To Save A Beloved

Word Count ~ 706 TW: mentions of blood, use of spears for torture, stabbing A xingyue drabble centered around Dan Feng being interrogated by the Senior Vidyadhara.

“The Transmutation Arcanum, Master Dan Feng, where is it?” One of the senior Vidyadharas questioned the current High Elder with a disgusted look on his face.

“Master?” Dan Feng repeated incredulously but with a certain mirth laced in his voice, his head lifting briefly to have a good look at the senior that spoke. “How ironic that I still hold the title of ‘Master’ even after the sin I so boldly committed.”

“Silence!” The senior Vidyadhara roared, pulling the spear out from where it had stabbed Dan Feng and making the tip of it rest under the High Elder’s chin. “The succession of the High Elder is a Vidyadhara creed and you decided to go against it… why would you choose this path?”

Dan Feng did not speak and only let out a chuckle, albeit weak, he did not falter and his resolve was still strong as ever with a prideful smirk etched along his features.

“We will not ask this again, Master Dan Feng.” Another senior Vidyadhara stepped up and gazed into the HIgh Elder’s eyes, as if searching for some remorse or even some sense of guilt.

But Dan Feng held none.

“What did you do with the Transmutation Arcanum?!” It would appear that this senior Vidyadhara had lost his patience when finding no hint of remorse, guilt or regret on Dan Feng’s visage.

“Your sin can easily be repaid.” A third senior Vidyadhara spoke, stepping forward to be right in front of the tortured HIgh Elder. “All you have to do is give us the Transmutation Arcanum.”

The High Elder responded with nothing but a haunting smile, curled at the corner of his lips that never reached his eyes. Dan Feng knew of the crime he committed, the unpardonable sins by the Ten-Lords Commission and the people of the Xianzhou. He was well aware of the actions he took and committed. There was no point in acting innocent nor was that even a goal he would have bothered to attempt to begin with.

What has been done cannot be undone.

A moment of silence was only occupied by the drips of water coupled with the idle winds that brushed through the chambers of the Shackling Prison.

One of the Senior Vidyadhara used the end of the spread to prop Dan Feng's chin up, scrutinizing with his dark gaze at the Imbibitor Lunae. “...very well, it would seem that you have made your choice, Imbibitor Lunae.”

Dan Feng’s blood seeped through the wounds and mingled with the waters below him. Even as the spears propped him as if the chains weren’t enough, the sharp pain of the weapons digging into his body caused him excruciating pain and yet, he never asked for mercy, he never begged to be released or even forced to tell them what happened to the Transmutation Arcanum.

It would be a secret that only him and Yingxing know about. Well, for Dan Feng to know, for Yingxing never thought to become the victim of Dan Feng’s sudden resolve, but then again, neither did Dan Feng ever thought that when the time comes to invoke the Transmutation Arcanum, a dragon heart would be given to a deceased to bring them back by the gift of Abundance.

Who know of such great lengths that the Imbibitor Lunae would go through just to save someone important.

To save his beloved.

Even if it meant that at some point Yingxing will not remember him nor will he have those joyous memories they once shared in secret, hidden from the world except their own.

At least he is still alive and perhaps, he can even live his life peacefully.

To Dan Feng’s misfortune that he will learn later–or, even perhaps never–is that Yingxing does not get that luxury of living like a long-life species.

No, Yingxing will be no more and will become Blade. His eyes would not be recognized as the beautiful blue-ish grey they once were before, nor will they appear to be that of someone having been mara-struck. There is something more to those eyes of Blade’s, something darker.

It would seem there is something more to that of the Transmutation Arcanum aside from just a creed of Long’s Scions of Permanence.

#xingyue #renheng #yingxing #dan feng #blade #honkai star rail #honkai: star rail #star rail #hsr #imbibitor lunae #transmutation arcanum #writings

10 notes · View notes

spiribia · 8 months

Text

the prince does actually like seraph quite a bit - he thinks she's reliable, maybe even admirable. from time to time he will intentionally say things to provoke her just because he gets a bit of a rush off how she won't act on it regardless and will be like ...Yes my lord even though even he knows she wants to shreddd me. this doesnt work with luna so much. he's a bit of a brute regardless but there is something about luna that unsettles him in a Dont you perceive me as a brute I am NOT whatever thing you are seeing sort of way when she gives him the gaze of silent disappointment, another royal (factor of his consideration) scrutinizing his merit. possibly because she is his assigned wife of all people. he avoids her when he can.

#talks #knight oc

11 notes · View notes

magicallymalted · 1 year

Text

HP Character Sheet - Nancy Maxwell

So you've heard of me, have you? Oh good, because I've heard a lot about you too.

tw: myrrh-der

࿐ General ࿐

Full Name: Nancy Ariadne Maxwell

Name Meanings: Nancy, "Grace" | Ariadne "Most Holy" | Maxwell, "Great Stream"

Nicknames: The Gossiping Ghost

Birthdate: August 10th, 1870

Death Date: February 3rd, 1885

Zodiac Sign: Leo

Personality Type (MBTI): ENTP

Blood Status: Half-blood

Nationality: British

Ethnic Background: Caucasian

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Residence: Six Feet Under, but a poet might say the Astronomy Tower

࿐ Physical Appearance ࿐

Hair: Dark Brown

Eyes: Bluish-Green

Height: 5'5"

Weight: Weightless

Body Type: Mesomorph

Skin Tone: Ghostly

Faceclaim(s): Jennifer Connelly

࿐ Background & Family ࿐

Hometown: Carlisle, UK

Mother: Prudence Maxwell née Webbler

Father: Arnold Maxwell

࿐ Magic ࿐

Wand:

Wood: Sycamore

Core: Unicorn Hair

Length: 10 3/4"

Flexibility: Swishy

Boggart: A giant scorpion

Riddikulus: The scorpion turns into a wiggling baby lobster

Patronus: Crow

Patronus Memory: Waltzing with Castor in the Room of Requirement

Amortentia (what she smells like): Never learned

Amortentia (what she smells): Never learned

࿐ PERSONA ࿐

Personality & Attitude: Quick-witted and audacious, Nancy isn't one to shy away from a challenge—especially when it comes to unveiling the true natures of her acquaintances. If there is one thing that she despises, it's when things remain hidden. She is curious and playful, and while some may mistake her prodding nature for one of a mercurial disposition, she sees it more as a comedic privilege to be the subject of her questioning gaze. In spite of her seeming insensitivity to the privacy of others, Nancy does often know when and where to draw the lines of dangerous territory. When she discovers something too grand for public outing, her thoughts go down in writing.

To her, no idea is too sacred to be questioned, no idea is too fundamental to be scrutinized, and no rule is too important to not be thoroughly tested. She loves the originality of life and when people or things surprise her, as she can often become bored when things remain stale for too long. It is then that she will turn toward her writing, as the diaries that she keeps contain a great deal of intrigue. Nancy, above all, is surprisingly accepting of others and their shortcomings. In an almost twisted manner, she is more often drawn to those that have baggage or things to hide— the flawed people, the outcasts, and the tainted.

Strengths: Public speaking, discovering things, sneaking, swimming, wit

Weaknesses: She dead, secrets, nosiness, relentlessness, provocation

Favorites: Divination, gossip, the color purple, knowing things, ocean water, violet poppies, secrets, quidditch

Hobbies: Writing, snooping, waltzing, quidditch commentary

࿐ Relationships ࿐

*Anyone can feel free to reach out if they'd like to discuss a potential plot or relationship!

Friends: - Rowena Ravenclaw After her death, Nancy found comfort in Rowena and was the only one that she would speak to for quite some time. Rowena provided a mentor-like support to her, and in the many years to come was the constant friend that she needed - Zenobia Noke Nancy took pity on Zenobia as she often suffered malevolent behaviour from her peers. After some students went and hid the girl's gobstones around the castle, Nancy helped her search for them and even provided some light torment to those that participated. In turn, Zenobia also acted as a bit of a physical assistant to Nancy during her time at Hogwarts, helping transcribe her findings on certain things.

Allies: - Luna Lovegood In later years, Nancy spent quite some time with Luna Lovegood after growing curious about the "nargles" she seemed to always mention. Just as with Zenobia, Nancy also helped Luna in moments of experienced cruelty, and even provided some tips for her to navigating Hogwarts.

Enemies: - John and Lewis Faden Nancy used to be quite close John, though she only tolerated Lewis. Often disliking the way that Lewis seemed to take advantage of Castor, they did not get off on the right foot even though in other circumstances, they might've made good friends. After John ended up killing her with Lewis' help, that was the end of their relations. In moments when John would need to visit Hogwarts, Nancy would grow quiet....

S/O: - Castor Faden (ex) Nancy and Castor loved each other quite a lot, but not even the Fadens were exempt from Nancy's snooping. It was indeed how broken down Castor was as a kid that first drew Nancy to him. They were at first good friends, and soon that love turned into a romantic one. Unfortunately, their time together would not last particularly long as Nancy continued to push for discovering things about the brothers that they would've rather kept hidden. Castor was the most heartbroken over her death, dropping out of Hogwarts in shame.

࿐ History ࿐

Nancy’s upbringing was one of solitude. As the only child of a pure-blooded wizard and a muggle living in a house much larger than that which would need to accommodate primarily three people and a small staff, her childhood was largely spent in the comfort of her own imagination as she tried to find ways to entertain herself when her parents were busy—which was quite often. She found herself at first snooping on those that worked in the household and realized that she could get away with quite a lot when no one seemed to notice she was present. People-watching became her favorite game, and the lives of the people downstairs were much more interesting than staring at grass, or even dancing.

In light of the way that Nancy was kept separate from her parents to a degree, she recalled her youth only vaguely and with a perception that “nothing ever happened.” For her, this was undoubtedly true, but not for her parents. Nancy’s mother continued to work as a florist in spite of marrying into the wealth that high wizarding society provided, much to her husband’s dismay and the rest of those who had decided to subtly ostracize her from their collective functions. Arnold was always invited, but it was with a bout of reluctance when what followed was always and is Mrs. Maxwell invited?. Nancy was blissfully unaware of the marital turmoil of her parents as her mother struggled to be accepted and her father seemed to want the woman but not the muggle. Thus, unwilling to forsake the world that he was raised in, he slowly drifted away from her. And Prudence? She began a secret affair that would only just end upon receiving devastating news from the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry during Nancy’s fifth year of attendance. Nancy had discovered the affair when she was ten but instead of speaking to her mother about it, she decided to talk about it with the staff who consoled yet scolded her on her “blabbering.” Magic wasn’t anything particularly new to Nancy, as Arnold had prepared her quite early on for what was to come. Prudence on the other hand seemed less enthused about the whole ordeal when Nancy turned eleven and received her acceptance letter, seeing it partially as the ticket toward her daughter slipping into a life that she could never join her in, yet not realizing the rift that was already between them.

While at Hogwarts, Nancy’s snooping habits never ceased. The Sorting Hat actually laughed when it was placed upon her head, easily placing her in Ravenclaw but with the ominous warning of keep your spunk, but watch your back. As a parting gift, her mother had made her a diary with pressed flowers along the spine, and Nancy intended to put it to good use—albeit perhaps not the kind of use that her parents, nor the staff or students of Hogwarts would approve of. Her pursuit of truth, as she claimed it to be, had her spilling the beans on all sorts of trouble that students would get up to, relationship drama, and more. Everything would go down in her diary (which soon became diaries in the plural sense) and what was most interesting was circulated as hearsay. Soon enough, it became apparent that being the subject of Nancy Maxwell’s attention may not have been the best thing to be — especially if you had secrets to hide. John Faden was one such boy who saw her inside information as an advantage, however. As a fellow Ravenclaw, and a prefect, he would sometimes even help her in uncovering things or share insights, eventually acting almost like an older brother figure. Through John, Nancy became acquainted as well with Castor Faden and eventually Lewis, the latter of whom did not get along very well. Yet, Nancy had a certain interest in Castor and his interesting demeanor that she would often tease him was comparable to a wet blanket, yet a comforting blanket nonetheless.

The more that Nancy spent time with Castor, though, the more wary John and Lewis became, believing that it might’ve been an ulterior motive that Nancy had up her sleeve and that they had become her new targets. Unfortunately for everyone involved, they were not entirely wrong. It was no secret that Nancy was curious about Castor (and Lewis as well, but her displeasure with him was of greater standing), and as they grew older her platonic affections for him shifted into a romantic one. Would they have asked, Nancy would’ve kept their secrets private and only for her diaries’ inner pages…but they never asked.

Soon after coming back from Christmas holiday in her fifth year, Nancy caught Lewis performing a strange and dark ancient kind of magic in the Forbidden Forest with Castor and John alongside him. Thereafter, she was intent on uncovering more information about the boys. One day, as Nancy trailed them out to the forest once more, she neglected caution upon turning away and accidentally—and unwittingly—alerted Lewis to her presence. Later on when Castor wasn’t around, he told John what had transpired, much to both of their worry, and devised a plan to put an end to the dilemma. An exploding cauldron just barely missed her, attempting to steal the books didn’t work, and after a shocking hexed bludger came her way during a Quidditch match and landed her in the hospital wing for a time with a bad concussion, John began to have doubts that she would stop, and so he decided to take it a step further to a point he never wanted to go. While Nancy was not exactly unliked by her peers, it was clear that she wasn’t without her enemies and those that would sooner wish her gone. It surprised very few when her body was found in the Forbidden Forest, surrounded by the torn and burning pages of one of her diaries—the diary, that had Lewis or John bothered to read would have gained a greater respect for her loyalty toward them. After the announcement, whispers came about for how Nancy Maxwell died, but one nugget seemed to weave through many of the sentiments: Finally, someone got rid of that nosy, gossiping bitch.

Nancy popped up again as a ghost containing herself to the Astronomy Tower and her phantom presence continued to mortify the Faden boys, even after their physical parting from Hogwarts.

࿐ Trivia ࿐

She was writing a field guide on tips/tricks for Hogwarts at the time of her death. It has since gone missing but she tells students that should they find it, they may keep its contents

She did not speak to any students for the first two years of her death and only began to talk to people after all of the Fadens had left

She was a quidditch announcer for the Hogwarts games from her third year until her death

After her death, she could be most commonly found atop the Astronomy Tower, along the Black Lake, and within Ravenclaw Tower—but watching out for her incessant snooping was always a given

As a last F-U to the Fadens for not trusting her, she implored Zenobia Noke to round up her surviving journals and place them at the bottom of John's trunk before his departure

After many years she decided to occasionally stray from the castle, and even came across John in adulthood

She's always been particularly fond of wysteria

She did not wish to see her parents after she died

She never told a soul about what transpired with the Fadens

Had she lived, she dreamed of—to many's surprise—not becoming a writer, but continuing on with a career in the utmost satirical Quidditch commentating

#GHOST BITCH IS HERE #she's basically just a meta reference at this point lmao #oc: nancy maxwell #nancy maxwell #hphm #hpma #hogwarts ghost #harry potter oc #hp oc #hphl #hp next gen #hp marauders #original character

35 notes · View notes