#shes very clearly clinging to it as like. The Single Good Thing Within Her Control

[ahlite-a]

decorating her teapot has received slightly obsessive focus since she got it; it’s something for lumine to do that feels productive and not in service to someone else — which is something they’re slowly coming to resent.  it also gives them a nice place to hide away when they’re miserable and don’t want to see others, which is an increasingly frequent happenstance as it sinks in how little they can depend on the people of this world.  they spend most of their time laying around listlessly, and chubby is a bit worried.

#headcanon. #shes very clearly clinging to it as like. The Single Good Thing Within Her Control #and focusing on it to avoid focusing on how it feels like zhongli has failed and abandoned her / aether is gone / etc

[theflashdriver]

Shipwrecked (Silvaze)

New silvaze oneshot! Marine crashes her newly built submarine, interrupting a picnicking date being had by a certain time traveler and fiery princess. Can Silver console the raccoon while still making the most of Blaze's day off? I hope you enjoy! 

---

The salty waterers of the Sol dimension were surprisingly warm today. Silver the hedgehog had long since learned that a hot day on the land didn’t necessarily mean the waters were good for swimming. For the first handful of summer days, that trick of the sun had caught him off guard, sending him into, and then very quickly out of, the icy cold sea. He supposed that they were now deep enough into the warm season that even the ocean was feeling it, a fact that was quite fortunate given his current predicament.

A psychically manifested scuba suit, including a breathing tank, was aiding him in a search for strips of metal that had been torn from a certain ship. He must have scanned the ocean floor for a good half hour by now and most of the pieces had been collected, but he had to gather as much as was feasible. If it wasn’t for the rocky nature of these waters, then he’d have surely finished this job in a matter of minutes. Alas, great stony spears seemed to jut out of the seabed at every angle and the commonality of seaweed and barnacle beds wasn’t helping matters. This wasn’t a terrible way to spend an afternoon, but the psychokinetic hadn’t expected today to go like this.

What had started as a very well planned and regular day had quickly spiralled out of control. The twenty-three-year-old hedgehog had woken up with butterflies in his stomach and excitement on his mind, knowing that Blaze had managed to procure a day away from her royal duties. Their bond had been rekindled several years ago, but it was only with the final restoration of the future that those flames had grown.

Silver had ended up staying in the Sol dimension and, following more than a few fumbled kisses and the feline’s much too subtle hints, gradually entered a more romantic relationship with Blaze. More romantic rather than actually romantic because, well, they hadn’t exactly talked about the shift so much as simply drifted in the general direction of deeper intimacy. Whenever he tried to bring it up, she’d silence him with a kiss or call him naive, just as she had when he’d historically asked if they were friends. It’d started as a way to obscure her own embarrassment, but she’d always enjoyed teasing him.

Reflecting on those moments made his heart pound and a goofy grin slip onto his lips, but the sight of something lying in a seaweed bed stole his attention. With the point of his finger, cyan aura ruffled through the seagrass patch and eventually managed to manifest around a single mass. The hedgehog heaved up his right hand and, matching the movement, a large rasher of metal rose from the depths. It was bent in a few places, it’d clearly torn against the rocks and been flung away by the swell, but it seemed to be in better condition than the bulk of the metal he’d found.

The hedgehog swam a little further, positioning himself above where the piece had crashed. Sure enough, it looked as though three more pieces had landed in the vicinity. Perhaps these were the last of the missing chunks? Blaze would chastise him for assuming that…

He dropped the strip he’d been carrying, a mass roughly the size of his torso, back down onto the seagrass before raising his hands to the sunny surface. Quickly, a bubble as big as his head descended into the depths and, following another gesture, fused into his psychic breathing apparatus. He heaved a deep breath, channelling more psychic energy from his palms before sending it to scour the seafloor.

His eyes shut as he allowed his sense of touch to guide the search, clinging to anything hard as he felt the sea and its flora alike slip through his grasp. There were actually five large pieces and seven or eight smaller fragments, it was difficult to count with his mind so full. Even if this wasn’t the last of the lost metal, it’d surely be enough to keep his partner busy. He clenched his feet, tightening his grasp on the metal to pull it after him.

Kicking his feet, the hedgehog managed to emerge at the surface and take to the sky. The now obsolete parts of his scuba suit vanished, resulting in the usual layer of cyan skin wore to fly. He was entirely dry, totally untouched by the seawater.

Flanked by the metal, he scanned his surroundings and quickly found their destination. Not too far away, around a stone’s throw from the horizon, floated a small and sandy island with a current population of two, soon to be three. As he approached, heaving his discovery behind him, its details came more clearly into view. The island was no bigger than a modest family house, home to three palm trees and five large grey rocks. Recently though, it’d seen the addition of one Marine the Raccoon’s crashed speedy-submarine.

The young shipwright, only thirteen, had designed the submarine to retrieve treasures lost on the seafloor. She’d been expressly told not to test it out without someone around to supervise her but, not one to be told what to do, she’d taken it out this morning, assumedly the instant Silver had left to meet with Blaze. The sobbing and babbling call that they’d received, just as they’d found a spot to picnic, had sent them into a manic dash. He’d swept the feline off her feet, abandoning their lunch, and taken to the sky. It’d taken less than an hour to track her down, a feat only possible due to the raccoon building a giant metal spire out of pieces she’d torn from her own craft.

Silver landed on the eastern edge of the island only to find that things were different from how he had left them. Marine had evidently run out of energy and crashed beneath one of the palm trees. The tide had quickly come in, swallowing more of what little land they had, but the speedy-submarine was still a ways away from being swept underwater. Somehow, likely due to the craft’s ludicrously powerful propulsion, Marine had ground it through the shallow waters for quite a distance before smashing it into a larger rock at the foot of the island. She’d managed to half-flip the submersible into the air and land it upside down on the island, the blatant damage she’d done exposed to the sky. The craft wasn’t especially big, it could roughly fit six people within its cramped interior, but seven breaches had clearly formed in the hull and all of its external gadgets had flown in various directions. It was fortunate that the propeller itself hadn’t been damaged.

Blaze was currently sat atop the cream-orange sub, clearly distracted by her work. While he’d been gathering the shed hunks of metal, she had been welding the craft back towards a more watertight state. She’d shed her usual royal robes before their outing, replacing them with a flowing black skirt and a tie dye purple shirt. Suffice to say, having planned things for weeks before finally managing to steal some free time, his partner wasn’t especially pleased to be working today. The thought of how to make things up to her had been weighing on him ever since they observed the extent of the damage. After all, they still had an afternoon and evening to share.

He approached the submarine on foot, still flanked by the dozen pieces of floating metal and watched as she pulled back from the gash she was sealing to wipe her brow with the back of her forearm. Despite how annoying this all was, he couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter a little. Perhaps it was the way the sun silhouetted her from above, maybe it was down to her change of dress or even the fact that she was using her power so casually, but, ultimately, why he felt this way didn’t matter. It’d taken him ages to understand concepts like romance and attraction, much longer than it probably should have, but, now that he did, Silver couldn’t help but bask in them. He didn’t just love her; he was in love. That fact was still so fresh in his mind.

It took Blaze throwing him a glance to snap him out of it, followed by a coy, “Did you enjoy your swim?”

“Oh, um, y-yeah,” He managed to stutter, turning to gesture toward the shards, “Are things going okay? I’m pretty sure this is the last of it. You should have all the important parts now.”

“I’m fine,” She managed to shrug and look back down to the hull, “I just hope we can get off this island soon.”

Catching the annoyance lingering in her tone, he couldn’t help but pipe up, “We can do something tonight if you want,” She looked down to him and, despite the intrigue on her muzzle, his confidence flagged, “J-Just if you want to, of course. I could cook something or maybe we could go out? Anything really, it’s up to you, I just don’t want to waste today.”

“Well, I suppose I could spare another couple of hours,” That smile crept back across her muzzle, “On one condition.”

She didn’t elaborate, but her tail swished as she awaited his response, “What condition?”

“You have to plan it this time,” Her coyness grew into a full smirk, “You’re in charge.”

Silver felt his heart skip a beat and his tongue grow very heavy. Throughout their time not explicitly dating, Blaze had taken the lead in most things. Even if he ended up doing the bulk of the preparation, as had been the case for their abandoned picnic, their outings and endeavours were driven by her. Sure, he’d show up and bring Blaze gifts from time to time but that was usually born of spur of the moment ideas rather than planning. The feline being the limiting factor on their outings had historically put her in charge of them, it was her time off after all and he hadn’t wanted to squander it.

“If you’re sure that’s what you want,” He managed to reply, “I have a couple of ideas-

“Surprise me,” In a single fluid motion, Blaze turned back to her work, still smirking, “You’ve got plenty of time to figure something out.”

The hedgehog swallowed, feeling sweat mount on his brow. He drifted into the air, tugging a slab of the metal after him, and quickly landed atop the submarine. Like putting together a puzzle, he tried to match a piece of torn metal to its respective hole. The action was barely enough to distract him from the pounding of his own heart but, fortunately, Blaze seemed to be caught up in her work. He managed to get a single large piece to mostly fit, positioning a couple of the smaller pieces nearby in an attempt to complete the shape.

As he finished and turned to grab another though, his eyes drifted over to Marine. Now closer, he noticed that the raccoon wasn’t actually asleep. Rather uncharacteristically, the shipwright had simply been sitting quietly beneath the tree. It was difficult to tell from so far away but Silver could plainly detect a certain solemness from her posture, her arms loosely crossed and back rigid. When he’d left for the ocean, she’d been working away at the hull as best as she could.

“Is everything okay with Marine?” He asked Blaze as she shifted from one hole to another.

“She tried to draw a blueprint in the sand to help explain some more complex repairs to me, but the tide came in and washed them all away,” The feline winced, “I think it’ll be fine without them, but she really wanted to help. I told her it’s fine but…”

The cat and raccoon pair’s friendship had changed a lot over the years. When he’d first arrived the two would occasionally get into spats that could last for days, usually deriving from Blaze’s longing to protect the youngster from her own sense of adventure. The princess was right to do so, Marine would get herself stranded or stuck fairly regularly, but Blaze’s own patience would occasionally wear thin and she’d end up angrily inspiring those very adventures. The raccoon would often leave in a strop, promising to prove Blaze wrong but very rarely doing so. Ultimately, the two of them had come to a sort of mutual appreciation over the years, likely urged on by a combination of familiarity and Blaze gradually letting down her walls. That change hadn’t stopped the raccoon’s adventurous tendencies, but it had made her a lot more responsible regarding them.

“If you’ll be okay doing this on your own for a little while, I could go talk to her?” Silver offered.

“I’d appreciate it,” She managed to nod, “Tell her that I’ll at least make it sailable again.”

“Alright,” He cast another glance to the youngster, allowing the remaining metal pieces to pile themselves in the sand, “I’ll do my best.”

He dropped from the top of the submarine but, as he made his approach, the raccoon had turned away. Rather than her typical green dress, she’d opted to go out in her denim work overalls and a simple t-shirt, perhaps suggesting that she’d anticipated some sort of issue. Her toolbox was sat beside her, messy as usual.

“Hey, Marine,” He could hear the hesitation in his own voice. He swallowed before dropping down to sit beside her, “It looks like Blaze will be able to fix your submarine up. It’ll all be fine.”

“Oh, that’s good,” She responded, offering no further insight through her words but a world’s worth with her tone.

Marine was more like him than she was like Blaze, even he wasn’t so oblivious as to miss that. While Blaze was frankly too good at obscuring her emotions and denying herself enjoyment, Marine and he were far more obvious in their expression. He could tell how disheartened she was by the tone of her voice, let alone her change in posture and wincing expression. Usually Marine was endlessly talkative, she’d talk for hours on end without even a moment’s thought, so for her to respond so simply was a clear indication of her current state.

The hedgehog’s hand found his chest fluff and began to awkwardly tug, “I think we’ll make it back well before dinner. Is there anything you particularly want?”

“Not really,” She glumly responded. For a moment, Silver thought that was all she’d say, “Shouldn’t you spend that time with Blaze? Seeing as I’ve already…”

“Don’t worry about that Marine,” Silver shook his head, “We’re just glad you’re okay. That crash could have been much worse.”

“Yeah, well,” She still hadn’t turned to him, “I messed up, again.”

“Marine,” He sighed, “It’s fine, it’s all fine.”

“But I ruined you two’s date. Blaze hardly gets time off as it is, she’s got to be boilin’ mad with me,” The raccoon protested, “And she’s right to be, she told me not to, that’s the worst part.”

“I told you, we’re just glad you’re okay. The instant we got your call we set out, your safety is more important,” A silence briefly filled the air and he felt the need to fill it, “As for the date, well, she still wants that to happen but…” That caught the Racoon’s eye, he couldn’t back out, “She’s put me in charge of it and I’ve got to figure out what we’ll do.”

“Oh, mate, that sounds like a lot of pressure for you,” She snorted, looking away again, “Try not to break under the strain.”

“Thank you for the show of confidence,” He mumbled, “She wants me to surprise her like she surprises me. I doubt she’s being serious about it, but I want to do my best.”

“I dunno mate,” She shrugged, “Sounds pretty serious to me. You’d better give it some thought.”

“Well, I’m open to ideas,” He said, more trying to get her talking rather than actually asking for ideas, “I could just make dinner or plan a walk, but this feels like it should be something special.”

“Probably, you want to make a good impression, show her that you can handle this,” The raccoon was slipping back into her usual tone, “She teases you enough as it is, imagine how much ammunition this could give her.”

“She already has enough to last the rest of our lives,” The hedgehog happily mused, “It’ll hardly be a drop in the bucket either way, but that doesn’t mean I won’t do this as best I can.”

“I guess so,” She mumbled.

The raccoon seemed to have realised that she was being led out of her wallowing and, rather than allow that, retreated back into herself. He had to keep this up, “You know, she used to chew me out just like she used to tell you off,” That got her attention, “Ever since we were tiny, she always took the lead.”

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me,” Marine bluntly responded.

“H-Hey,” His stammer put a small smirk on her face, “Well, you’re not wrong. She still does now, even if it’s not quite in the same way,” He continued, swallowing what little pride he had, “I used to come up with plans and run off on my own a lot, I’d get into all kinds of scrapes.”

“What?” She exclaimed, “But I thought she was the boss?”

“Eventually she got sick of me doing it and took charge,” He explained “Before that, I’d leave her behind, promising to beat a monster and come back, only to return all roughed up but insisting I was fine. She’d have to trick me into letting her see my injuries, I wanted to do everything myself and fix our world.”

“But wasn’t the future,” She made a vaguely t-rex like hand motion, “Overrun by monsters back then? They’d literally destroyed the world, hadn’t they?”

“Rivers of lava literally ran through the city and the sun was blotted out by clouds of soot,” Silver recalled, “My younger self didn’t really see that as an issue though. He thought it’d be easy, the kind of thing you could sort in a day.”

Marine snorted, almost chuckling, “That sounds like you.”

“The first time she stood up to me was incredible, you should have seen it,” Silver’s eyes drifted back to the feline, still welding the submarine, as he began to reminisce, “I’d limped in after fighting like an idiot, running all over the city, and she just pushed me over,” He heard Marine snort again, “She’s cute now but, back then, her frown didn’t fit on her face. Blaze was this tiny purple kitten and I’d convinced myself that I had to protect her, even though I was much shorter than her,” Now the raccoon was chuckling but Silver’s eyes didn’t leave Blaze, “I tried to make a fuss and get back up, but she properly pinned me down and mercilessly bandaged everything. By the time she’d finished, I was practically a mummy, I couldn’t even move.”

“That that really sounds like her,” Marine responded, finally reclaiming his gaze. She’d left her shell again, “It doesn’t sound like she was especially scary though.”

“Well, even back then, she could spit fire as easily as she could conjure it,” He grinned, “Once she had me trapped, she talked my ear off. She stood over me and just started shouting, letting out all of her annoyance, and, from then on, she never held back with me. If there was a problem, she’d make it very clear,” His gaze wandered back to Blaze, “Whenever I was about to do something stupid she’d just grab me but, eventually, she didn’t even need to do that. She’d call me naïve and it’d stop me in my tracks.”

The raccoon giggled, “Mate, she’s had you on a leash for that long?”

“She’s just cared for that long,” He bumped her shoulder with his, “I know she’s been harsh in the past but that’s only because she cares about you too. That was the only way she could show her concern.”

“I know, I know. She’s not as…” She seemed to be searching for the right word, “Stern as she used to be.”

“Things have changed, she’s learned that being more open is okay so she feels comfortable showing off her softer side,” The psychic agreed, “I certainly wouldn’t be in my current position if that wasn’t the case, neither of us would have any idea what to do with our relationship.”

“Now you’re the only clueless one,” She joked.

“Y-Yeah,” He quickly turned from Blaze as the feline threw a glance towards them, feeling the heat on his muzzle, “What am I going to do…”

“Flounder and fail probably,” She smirked.

“Flounder huh?” Perhaps it was born of that word alone, or it was bolstered by the shipwright’s creation and his time spent seeking out its parts, but an idea manifested in Silver’s head, “Marine, when you were in your submarine, did you see anything interesting?”

“Interesting?” She blinked, “What do you mean, mate?”

“You had to sail pretty far to get here,” He thought aloud, “Did you actually find anything? Any sunken wrecks or interesting spots?”

“No, there were no sunken wrecks, mate. I wouldn’t have crashed it if there was. I would have found my treasure and then headed back to rub it in everyone’s faces,” She responded, finally talking more positively about her experience, “I saw some pretty little fish and maybe a giant squid at one point but, besides that, it was all very boring.”

Setting his questions about the giant squid aside, Silver pried further, “Pretty fish? Did you see them anywhere in particular or just in general?”

Marine squinted, rubbing her chin, “Well, there was one place that they were pretty common. There was one of those coral reef places, a pretty small one though. There were all sorts of fish and crabs and stuff, it was real rough to navigate.”

That sounded perfect, “Once we’ve fixed up your submarine, do you think you could get there again?”

“Probably mate, why?” She questioned.

“Well, while carrying your submarine home would have been too much for me, I think I can manage a little bit of scuba diving,” He half explained, “Maintaining a couple of suits with my power shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“Oh, I get it! Aww mate, that’s a brilliant idea, you two’ll can do that and I’ll keep-

Silver clamped his hand over Marine’s mouth, throwing a quick glance at Blaze. The feline hadn’t turned to face them, even though she’d undoubtedly heard the raccoon’s shouting, “Th-This is supposed to be a surprise Marine, remember?”

“Oh, right, yeah,” She muttered, forcing her way free, “But alright mate, I can totally get you guys there.”

The raccoon looked far more like her usual self. Her ears had even returned to their usual formation. Honestly, just having heard her laugh had relaxed him, “Alright, I’m going to go check if Blaze needs help fixing the submarine. Will you be okay?”

“Who, me? Yeah, I’ll be fine. Fine as ever,” He gave her one last nod before rising, making sure that was the truth. As he went to turn though, her voice called out again, “Thanks, mate.”

“It’s no problem, Marine,” Silver smiled back to her, “We’ll have this sorted in no time.”

He made his way across the sand, approaching the large pile of dented and worn metal. With little more than the flick of his wrist, the hedgehog again lifted himself to stand atop the submersible. The feline had just about finished sealing the largest of the remaining holes so, quick to respond, the hedgehog weaved his hands through the air and began to set up the rest of her patchwork.

“Hello again,” She called up to him, not looking away from her work.

“Good afternoon,” He hummed, psychically fiddling with the giant puzzle, “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

“I didn’t think I’d be here either, it’s been an interesting day,” She was smirking again, her fangs were only just visible.

The feline shifted, moving to a slightly smaller breach. With the snap of her fingers a flame manifested atop her fingertip before quickly shrinking and growing brighter. Bracing against the hull, she began to trace that finger along where the two masses met. Sparks flew as she moved slowly, allowing the metal to reach a near molten state before leaving it to cool and fuse.

Though it was no different from Marine doing the bulk of her metalwork, Silver found himself more and more enamoured as Blaze continued. Despite the difficult nature of the work, there was something almost elegant to her movements, it was like watching her write or dance. The flames she’d hidden for so long were now just another part of her, an extension of her being that came to her as naturally as curling her fingers. What she’d once insisted was separate from her now worked with her to do all manner of good.

“Silver, you’re staring,” She reminded him, not so much as glancing up.

“S-Sorry, I just like watching you work,” He said, feeling a goofy grin grow on his lips, “It reminds me of how things have changed.”

“If you stand so close, you’ll get burned,” She warned, smirking as she continued to work.

Accepting her words but unwilling to depart, the hedgehog took to the air. In a single motion he went from standing upright to hovering upside down, still face to face with her but having put his body well out of the way.

“Better?” As she looked up to see him, her smirk almost failing to contain her laugher, he felt his face light up red. If his heart had skipped any more beats, being stranded would be the least of his worries.

“You’re so naïve,” She tutted, rolling her eyes. In an instant, the flare vanished from her finger. She scooted just a little closer, “But…”

“But you always-

Before he could finish, her lips found his. Still upside down, he was kissed and soon found himself kissing her. The warmth of her lips pressing against his, the lingering taste of the lemonade he’d made for them, and the inherent knowledge that the woman he knew to be so powerful was being so very gentle sent the hedgehog into a blissful daze. Even her smoky scent, that he was sure would irk others, so thoroughly and completely completed the experience that was kissing his beloved. As if the ecstasy somehow wasn’t enough, he felt her fingers brush through his quills and tilt his head to pull him closer.

This was still new to him, strange to him, and he wasn’t certain that he was doing it correctly… but did that matter when he was enjoying it so much? Maybe he would get better at this with time but, then again, maybe he wouldn’t. They had grown together and would continue to grow together, taking on new aspects and improving on their failings. Who was to say when their growth would stop or whether it ever would? All Silver knew for certain was that he wanted to keep growing with her and see just what that growth would bring.

#silvaze #Silver the Hedgehog #Blaze the Cat #sonic the hedgehog #marine the raccoon #silverxblaze

[book-obsessed-coward]

Pt. 2 of my last Head Canon because I couldn’t fit it all into one post, but first, take this smol emotional support Sapphire Trio:

Both Sybill & Gilderoy, who were well aware of what just happened, immediately stopped to rush back in an attempt to help him, but were soon met by the now very, very aggravated Troll. Sybill had completely dropped her defensive attitude towards Gilderoy out of fear by now & instead of using the opportunity to yell at him some more, she simply held her arm out to stop him from doing anything stupid before raising her wand. However, no spells were needed, for the second Quiri came to the realization that the Troll was gonna stomp his brains out, he instinctively held up his hand & cried out for it to “STOP!” & much to his surprise, it did. They watched as it stumbled backwards a few paces & stood there utterly dumbfounded as he got back to his feet, still shaking violently. Sybill nearly dropped her wand & barely even noticed Gilderoy clinging to her like a coward, clearly in need of a moment to fully register everything that had just happened right before her eyes. Quiri of all people, had just managed to subdue a full grown, & not to mention, extremely irritated Troll! All on his own! Without magic! What? Why? How? Sybill’s confusion spiraled out of control as they steadily returned to their senses, Quiri insisting that they walk the dangerous creature back to the farthest edge of the Forest whilst it was still under his unexplained control. But of course, not a single one of her many questions could be answered just yet, for a flock of clearly flustered staff members had been waiting to greet them upon their return(the Troll now sitting a good distance away from the castle thanks to Quiri). By now I’m sure you’re all coming to realize the similarities between the Golden Trio’s “bathroom Troll” incident & these three’s currently being explained situation, which is good because it’s about to get a whole lot more similar: “It’s my fault professors.” Merlin’s beard, what’s this? Sybill of all people, taking the blame for one of Gilderoy’s greatest mishaps yet? Impossible! But nonetheless, it was true: “I had foresaw a prophecy of the Troll getting defeated tonight & thought I’d be the one to slay it.” Says she while sharing a knowing glance with both Gilderoy & Quirinus. “If they hadn’t followed me here, I’d probably be dead.” In the end, twenty whole points had been deducted from Ravenclaw house for “Sybill’s stupidity & serious lack of judgement” , but with that small loss came a much bigger prize: new found friendship. Thus forming our infamous Sapphire Trio.

-Fin-

Now I’m a huge Steven Universe fanatic, & upon relistening to some of the many amazing songs featured within the show, I couldn’t help but get a little inspired by SU’s lyrics, accompanied, of course, by my infatuation with HP. Here’s what I’ve got brainstormed so far:

-Quirrell redemption AU where him & Ginny are singing Here Comes A Thought, because HE’D BE THE PERFECT MENTOR CHARACTER FOR HER. They both fell victim to Voldemort’s manipulation & were basically forced to do terrible things in his favor, & for sure, they both need emotional healing from the horrid experiences they’ve been dealt. So I don’t know about you, but this entire song just perfectly captures that “mentor taking the time necessary to help their student heal from a traumatic experience that they too have experienced” type feel- & I am here for it!

-Lil Sybill & Quiri singing The Jam Song, but about tea or something- Oh don’t look at me like that! I just thought it’d be cute, okay!?-

-Snape singing It’s Over Isn’t It after hours, alone in his office. Just give the song a listen, you’ll see what I mean.

-Lockhart singing Haven’t You Noticed(I’m A Star). There really isn’t an explanation needed here.

-AVPM Quiri & Voldy singing Peace & Love On The Planet Earth. Because I live for non canon Quirrelmort(canon Quirrelmort is practically the equivalent of a toxic relationship between a parasite & it’s suffering host, & I don’t see how anyone can actively ship something along those lines. Thank Merlin we have Starkid & their shenanigans to make things a little more wholesome between these two)-

Sooo yeah! Just thought I’d share those lil ideas with you guys & maybe even introduce the art of Steven Universe to those of you who have yet to witness it at full potential. It’s truly a beautiful series & one of, if not my most, favorite shows. The messages expressed are realistic & relatable, the characters featured are diverse & dynamic, & all in all, I’m sure you’d be happily surprised to find that there’s quite a few similarities between it & the Wizarding World Of Harry Potter. Definitely recommend.

Progress shot:

#harry potter #quirinus quirrell #gilderoy lockhart #sybill trelawney #follow up post #pt 2 #Basket Case/Bronze Trio #Sapphire Trio #head canon #my art #flipaclip #thank you #<3

[airgetlamhh]

Thoughts on Lostbelt 2

Longpost ahead.

So.

Lostbelt 2. Finally played it after so long, and this will contain spoilers.

To make sure everyone knows what they’re getting into, I’ll give the thesis statement right here: Lostbelt 2 is bad. 

The entire time I played through the story, I kept waiting for it to pick up. I kept waiting for it to shrug off the poor pacing, the deus ex machinas, the random things just happening for the convenience of the plot. I kept waiting for it to shrug off the poor characterization, the constant telling instead of showing, the moral myopia. It never did. 

From nearly the very start to finish, Lostbelt 2 is bad. 

We start off fairly fine! A desperate ploy to sneak through the Lostbelt to meet up with the allies we’ve learned about, the Wandering Sea, interrupted by a Lostbelt Servant attacking us with the intent of stealing the Paper Moon that allows us to perform Zero Sails. All of that is a decent setup!

And then we’re told how strong this Saber is. How incredible they are. How their swordplay surpasses anything else they’ve ever seen, how they desperately wish that Musashi was there, how no no, he didn’t use his sword, he only parried! Things that Sherlock Holmes observes, not Mashu, not the one who’s actually been fighting for two years now, so Mashu seems borderline useless. Holmes figures out it’s Sigurd because...he uses a sword in a Scandinavian Lostbelt, and he figured out that Holmes used magic because Holmes fire magic lasers at him. From this, Holmes is able to pinpoint Sigurd’s identity, and that’s just the setup for the rest of the chapter, really. 

To be specific, what I mean is that we will constantly be told how incredible someone is with very little evidence, and the plot will bend and warp to make certain things happen. 

The scene does exactly one good thing, which is the foreshadowing of Surtr. Coming into it knowing that aspect allowed me to appreciate little bits like Surtr talking about Heroic Spirits like he wasn’t one, and Surtr not being able to kill Mashu because Sigurd resisted it. But that’s about all that was good in the scene, and all it really does is set up a consistent thing of Surtr being one of the only good parts - until he isn’t, of course.

I’m going to shift here from specifics to characters, because otherwise I’d be rehashing the entire story and I don’t have the time or effort required for that. That being said, it is difficult to decide where to start, so I’ll go right to the very building blocks of the story, the themes. 

Lostbelt 2 is, very obviously, attempting to have a theme of different kinds of love throughout the story. Part of this is because it’s very much set up like an otome game that the author Hikaru Sakurai would write, with Ophelia in the center, but it’s a more general theme too, with Skadi and the others all building up towards it. Now, love is an absolutely wonderful thing to build your themes around, exploring and examining it can be great for stories. Beasts themselves do that, examining different varieties of genuine, but toxic love that allow them to be well-meaning monsters.

The problem is that Lostbelt 2 does not engage with these themes on anything but a surface level. Skadi represents maternal love, so she constantly talks about how everyone is her children and how she’s their mother. No examination of the desire to see her children grow, the pain she feels when they fight, the struggle of forcing herself to cling so tightly knowing that it’s suffocating them and going to kill them before they reach 26. 

Napoleon represents passionate love, so he flirts with every woman he sees. No examination of why he’s so passionate or what drives him to burn so brightly, beyond a token mention that for some reason when he’s summoned he’s driven to seek out a lover, another aspect of things happening to serve the plot. 

Sigurd and Brynhildr represent true, romantic love, so they act mushy the entire chapter from the moment the real Sigurd appears. Now, don’t get me wrong, I liked their scenes a lot and I’m happy that they chose that portrayal instead of the one I was afraid of where it was yandere jokes day in day out. But there’s no engagement with the fundamentals of their love, nothing that tests it, even the existing complications with Brynhildr’s tragic summoning are swept away with a single line of “I can resist them better now maybe because my saint graph is broken”, so ultimately there’s no conflict whatsoever. And sure, that’s nice, but it’s not very good if you’re trying to build your story around a theme of love. 

Next, Surtr, who represents obsessive, dangerous love. I honestly actually think Surtr’s done well, even if the love he happens to represent is the least positive one. Surtr is capable of only one thing, destruction, and when he fell for Ophelia in that moment where she saw him and he saw her, he decided that if he ever had the chance, he would repay her the only way he knew how: allowing her to watch as he destroyed everything. When he’s summoned, he acts basically like the possessive one in an otome game, constantly talking about how Ophelia is his woman, getting angry when Napoleon flirts with her, spending most of his time pushing things between them as far as they can go etc. etc. I’m not particularly a fan of how his desire to repay Ophelia battling against his singular purpose transformed him into a typical possessive bastard boyfriend, but it’s at least engaged with on a deeper level.

Finally, Ophelia. She’s the otome game protagonist here, born into an controlling family and finally freed, hiding a secret special power, beloved by almost all the men involved in the chapter while she’s harboring feelings for someone else, even has the typical friendship route with Mashu going on. Her love is a love that she doesn’t acknowledge, but that’s all it is. It’s never engaged with beyond the fact that she clearly loves Kirschtaria but insists she doesn’t, and her final scene as she dies is Mashu telling her that yes, she did love Kirschtaria. That’s all. 

For a theme of love that’s supposedly woven into the Lostbelt, it’s barely examined at all. It’s not well written, and in comparison to Lostbelt 1′s theme of what it means to live in a world where the strong devour the weak and how deeply it examined and engaged with that, it’s a genuine disappointment.

Now, to move onto the plot, it’s...in the abstract, it’s fine. Chaldea is intercepted and forced to fight in the Lostbelt and ends up dragged into the overarching ploy by Surtr to release himself and burn everything. That’s a perfectly fine story, but the problem is that when you get to the moment-to-moment stuff, it falls apart completely. 

Skadi is constantly talked up as this incredibly powerful true goddess, not merely a Divine Spirit, and we know she can see and hear our every move because of her snow. How does the story work around this borderline omniscience within her Lostbelt? Skadi just decides not to do anything about Chaldea with zero rhyme or reason. We need to sneak into the palace and avoid alerting the guards, except Skadi already knows exactly where we are, except that doesn’t matter because we need to sneak in for some reason. We get captured with no plan to escape, and it just so happens that not only was Skadi keeping a Divine Spirit amalgamation locked in the dungeons too, but that she can piggyback on you making a contract with Napoleon (pure dumb luck you hadn’t done it before) and force a connection with you too, and then cast spells to hide you while you escape. Skadi knows we’re trying to free Brynhildr, who is the sole threat to Sigurd and Skadi’s own Valkyries in the entire Lostbelt? She just decides to do nothing at all. 

So much of the plot happens because either Skadi makes terrible decisions to do nothing, even though she knows Chaldea is there to destroy her entire world, or it happens because random shit goes on that couldn’t have been planned for like Sitonai. Shit like Surtr suddenly becoming Fafnir and being able to use the Evil Dragon Phenomenon to brainwash Ophelia somehow, like Ophelia’s Mystic Eye being able to do anything the plot demands, even when it explicitly goes against its existing capabilities like rewinding time on Sigurd’s wounds, like Bryn and Surtr somehow being able to resist the effects of her eye with no buildup or explanation. It’s poorly written in terms of the exact events that happen, and that all culminates in Skadi’s one cool moment, where she declares she’s going to kill the seven billion we fight for for the sake of her ten thousand...and then right after, it reveals that Skadi was going easy on us and refused to use her runes of instant death for no reason even though she was fighting for the survival of her entire world. The moment to moment plot is not good, and neither is what comes next, the worldbuilding.

In Skadi’s Lostbelt, half the world is covered in Surtr’s flames, while the other half is blanketed in Skadi’s snow. Where the two areas meet are the only places where life can grow, and so Skadi set up villages there. Unfortunately, there isn’t enough food for everyone, so she enforces strict population control: if you are not the mother or father of a child by 15, you are sent away to be killed by the giants. If you are the mother or father of a child, you are sent away to be killed at 25 instead. Through this tragic method, Skadi enforces a limit of 100 villages with 100 people, a total population of 10000. This is all fine. 

But take a closer look at what we actually see, and this falls apart. First, the giants. The giants are immortal and never need to eat. They do nothing but sleep all day and attack any human that comes close to them. Later, it’s revealed that they’ll attack any heat source including Valkyries, except we know that’s not true. Giants never attack each other, they never attack and destroy any of the plant life around them, they never attack the Lostbelt tree seeds, they even fight alongside mass-produced Valkyries before it’s revealed that Skadi and the three originals can mind-control them! They exist only to destroy, but Skadi can control them with her masks and indeed uses them as labour, keeping them chained up in her castle to be brought out and controlled as needed, or using them to guard Brynhildr’s castle. 

Worst of all, the first time we meet anyone in the chapter, it’s Gerda, who is sneaking out of her village to go to the massive liveable area close to Village 23. This area happens to be the only place she can go to get medicinal herbs that she needs or one of the people in her village will die in childbirth. This area is also full of giants, who have not destroyed it despite being fertile and full of life and heat, and who are allowed to take this place that could be used to grow more food for humans who need it, and simply stay there doing nothing. 

Now, this is where I thought the game would engage with things. How Skadi, in professing her love for all her children, is actually being cruel and unfair. They certainly set it up in the conversations she has, where she casually mentions how humans must die for her coexistence to continue. Skadi chooses to keep the giants alive despite the fact that they are all braindead and can do nothing but kill and destroy the moment their masks are removed. She chooses to keep them alive even though it comes at the expense of the humans who must die when the giants never make that same sacrifice. She chooses to allow them fertile land even though they cannot farm nor do they need food, and in doing so deprive the humans of potentially living longer, having more supplies to do so. She makes these strange choices and then later reveals she can control the giants to do her bidding, and it all seems to fall into place. 

What we see from how she’s characterized early on is that the system is unfair and Skadi is unwilling to change, because it benefits her tremendously. Gerda’s village didn’t have enough herbs to save the children forced to breed by 15, and despite Skadi’s omniscience letting her know that Gerda had snuck out and was trying to save a life, she did nothing. There was no system in place to beg a Valkyrie to get these herbs, and no indication whatsoever that Skadi would use her powers to control the giants to save Gerda’s life. The picture painted is someone who cares about humanity not out of true care, but simply out of obligation. Those who disobey her rules, even for good reasons, are left to die by the engines of destruction she keeps alive.

That’s not the story it tells later on, though. Skadi, portrayed from the start as this all-powerful goddess with complete control over everything, is revealed to be far weaker than we thought, and far less monstrous. Ignore all the times she did control the giants, she actually can’t do it all that well. Ignore all the times she declared she would not allow anyone she loved to be killed, but chose not to act to tell her Valkyries or her giants or anything else to save either Chaldea or Gerda. Ignore the evidence we see on screen that there’s more land that’s simply taken over by the giants, Skadi can only make those initial 100 villages and can’t make any more. Skadi is not bad. Skadi did the best she could. Skadi is morally right. 

Please love Skadi, there’s no complicated moral quandary here, she’s just Good.

Comparisons to Lostbelt 1 are impossible to avoid. Both have the same basic cause, a calamity that was impossible to predict and impossible to avert. The stagnation that dooms a Lostbelt created by the kings in question in their desperation to survive. Ivan turned humanity into the Yaga and created a world of strength, where progress is impossible because everyone in his new world was too busy devouring each other to work together. Skadi created a world of weakness, where progress is impossible because she limited the population to avoid everyone dying out. There is, however, one crucial difference between the two. Not in terms of story, not in terms of characters, not in terms of themes. 

“Your existence itself has already become a grave sin.”

That one line, spoken to Ivan, is the biggest difference between how the story engages things. In both Lostbelts, Ivan and Skadi did horrible things and made horrible choices because they had to, for the sake of survival. Ivan twisted humanity into monsters that lost capacity for mercy or empathy, while Skadi forced brutal population control and careless death on humanity because of her refusal to allow the giants to be destroyed. Both of them did horrible things, but only one is held to account by the story.

What Ivan did was evil, and the story recognises it. It doesn’t accept the excuse that it was all necessary for survival, because that’s irrelevant. It’s evil regardless. This same sentiment should have been expressed with Skadi, but it’s not. Ivan is condemned, but Skadi is absolved. She had no choice. She did the best she could. After building her up as all-powerful, the end of the story instead destroys her agency and power in its haste to prevent any kind of responsibility falling on Skadi’s head. Even to the very end, where she declares that she’ll kill all seven billion lives we fight for for the sake of her ten thousand, she holds back and allows us to win, despite how it butchers her character.

The biggest irony in all this is that Ivan’s world was worse than hers in ways. There was no way for the blizzards to stop, no meat besides for the demonic beasts. Crops couldn’t grow, and instead of living in peace, the Yaga were constantly tormented and killed by the Oprichniki. There were no liveable areas like there are in Lostbelt 2, no merciful ruler that sees all, and controls the greatest threats, no peaceful villages where food can be grown. There’s far more justification for Ivan to claim he had no choice and that he did all he did for survival, because it’s hard to see what his choices were. But Skadi? Skadi intentionally does not act and intentionally allows suffering and pain to come to her children, both actively by not saving Gerda, and passively by allowing the giants to take land they don’t need. Despite this, Skadi is absolved, because the story desperately wants her to be a tragic waifu that you love.

There’s lots more I could talk about. How Sitonai was pointless and existed only for a pathetic FSN reference. How Gerda was a cowardly and manipulative piece of writing compared to Patxi. How Ophelia’s story of always being told what to do is resolved not by her taking the step to freedom herself, but being told to free herself by someone else. The constant repetition that plagues the chapter, the weirdly prevalent sexism that everyone gets in on when it comes to Ophelia’s love life, the nonsense of the final battle itself, the absolute nonsense of Skadi being Scáthach-Skadi. I could even talk about how I’d fix the chapter, because boy howdy there’s a lot there. 

There’s lots more I could talk about, but this is already very long, and I think it speaks for itself. Obviously asks are available if anyone wants me to examine them in more detail, but for now, I’ll finish off with one last reminder.

Lostbelt 2 is bad.  

#FGO #fgo lostbelt #cosmos in the lostbelt #Lostbelt 2 #Fate Grand Order #Fate/Grand Order

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.3}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

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Lunch break came and went, and so did the second half of the conference. Robin and Snape continued doing what they had been doing for the most part of the day, quietly criticising the many misconceptions, mistakes and missing pieces of the other people's lectures, but they wouldn't be as tactless as to publicly bring it up in the discussions. All corrections and truths, as well as all snarky comments and crude jokes were kept exclusively between the two of them. The handbook, or rather the immense knowledge that was compiled in it by now, wasn't supposed to become known, especially not around here in these circles, and thus Robin had to refrain from correcting mistakes for the most part anyway. Only when she was asked for her opinion specifically – which actually had become an almost usual occurrence at this point – did she speak up at all. But of course the conference wouldn't have been the same without Kenneth Crowe, nor without his not so subtle attempts to mess with Robin once again.

"May I remark, Miss Mitchell, you haven't commented on my presentation yet, and given your inclination to comment on absolutely everything, that does surprise me now. So please enlighten us, what brilliant conclusion did you come to this time?" He asked her during the discussion to his lecture, his tone so pointedly hostile and sarcastic that a few people frowned at him in confusion. They must've been living under a rock for the last two years if they had missed this growing one-sided rivalry.

"Never give a green cat a flamethrower." Robin replied in perfect neutrality an instant later, looking him dead in the eye from all the way across the room. Admittedly, she had come prepared for such a situation this time around, and that left her feeling a lot more in control of the situation than she had in the previous years. Next to her, Snape raised an eyebrow and tried very hard not to look too amused by what he certainly guessed was coming.

Crowe however openly scoffed at Robin, rolling his eyes in a condescending manner, before crossing his arms over his chest. "Matters certainly get more ridiculous every single year; I won't even honor that statement by questioning it."

"That would be the point." Robin gave him a polite little smile, and multiple people in the room quietly snorted against better judgement. "I'm glad you agree with me on the issue. Some matters simply aren't worth to be commented on."

A few jaws dropped, Crowe's being one of them, but he stayed pointedly quiet in return and instead seemed to ignore Robin entirely from there on. Just what she had wanted. That settled the issue, and the afternoon continued on quietly until the last lecture was over, upon which the crowd assembled in the front for the usual picture to be taken. Unlike last year, Robin didn't have to convince Snape to partake, and they found their place easily just like everyone else did. After that however, Robin was asked to stand for a second photograph all by herself, which obviously was a usual procedure for the people who gave the lectures. She wasn't particularly fond of the idea, but it would've taken more time to argue herself out of it than to get it over with, and thus she simply shook her hair out of the bun it had been in and stood still.

"Smile for me, would you?" The photographer asked, and Robin tried to somewhat smile without looking stupid. But obviously he wouldn't have her not-smile. "No no no, smile with your entire face, like you actually mean it!"

"The others didn't have to smile either." She scoffed, thinking of how all the men before her had been done with the picture within seconds, and without a comment. "So why do I have to? Just because I'm female doesn't make me a dress up doll."

"I'm sure your smile is lovely, sweetheart." He reasoned and gave her a look that annoyed Robin within a second. "They say a woman's smile is the most enchanting thing about her, you know…"

"That is the best you can do? Not very creative, is it?" Snape remarked from just a little off to the side, raising an eyebrow at the photographer, absolutely unimpressed. "I would rather say it's the mind that enchants, but what would you know about that, right?"

Robin couldn't help laughing at the comment, at the sheer sass in it, and even just at the expression on Snape's face. Before she knew, her photo was taken and the grumbling photographer packed up without another word to either of them. Well, at least she was smiling like he'd wanted her to, even if she had looked behind the camera rather than into it.

What followed was the usual: endless smalltalk and conversations, being handed over from one person to the next, and having to tell people as politely as possible that her life wasn't a topic she would give them information on. But unlike last year, Snape stayed by Robin's side the entire time and thereby made the whole procedure a lot more bearable. He obviously didn't have the same reputation here as he did back at Hogwarts, but even without knowing exactly who he was, his height, scowls and generally dark appearance sufficed to keep people at a distance from both of them. For the most part at least.

"So you are the famous Miss Mitchell…" A man perhaps a little older than Snape approached them in a slow saunter in the very moment Robin's previous conversation came to an end. She had noticed how he'd kept throwing glances at her throughout the evening, but only now he actually approached her, in obvious disdain that Snape still refused to leave her side. Perhaps that's why his eyes and focus stayed exclusively on Robin. "A true honour to meet you at last."

"I'm Robin Mitchell, yes." She replied, after not finding a name tag on him anywhere. "But I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."

"Jacob Crowe." He smiled way too brightly, bowing in an exaggerated manner. "You already know my brother Kenneth, unfortunately. But let me assure you that not everyone in our family is quite as ignorant as him."

"Nice to meet you, then." Robin made herself return a polite smile even though his forcefully charming demeanor made her rather want to scowl. At least Snape's hand was still securely resting on her back, had been from the start of these torturous conversations, and she found herself leaning into him the slightest bit more on instinct now. He surely wouldn't mind… just for the duration of this uncomfortable situation.

"I must say, your presentation was quite enchanting." Crowe gave her another look that was probably supposed to be dashing, but only did the very opposite. "A fascinating story of research and intellect, told by the most fascinating woman I have ever seen. Logically, I was clinging onto your every word."

"Yes, that much was obvious." Snape taunted with the inevitable scowl, glowering at Crowe before Robin had to come up with a reply on her own. It was the first and only time he had gotten himself involved in any of Robin's conversations this evening, and good gods he couldn't have picked a better time.

Crowe glared right back at him, making a face that was in no way inferior in its hostility to that of his brother. "And you are…?"

"Tired of hearing you speak when you clearly have nothing to say." Snape replied in a cutting voice that was filled with boredom and disdain alike, and yet he tugged Robin even closer to his side ever so gently. Always the contradiction.

Crowe glared at him for another moment, then turned back to Robin with a still somewhat irritated expression that he however tried to cover up with another smile. "You are a remarkable woman, Robin… It would be a true joy to get to know you, to hear more about your research and life. But then again, you seem to be spoken for already."

"As a matter of fact, I generally only speak for myself." Robin replied calmly, but yet in a tone that made abundantly clear what she thought of his advances. "And I am here to speak about research, not about my personal life."

"There's no harm in combining work and pleasure, my dear." He gave her another almost suggestive grin, obviously misunderstanding her previous statement. "I know for a fact that you are quite exceptional in one, and I would love to find out about the other."

"Good evening, Mister Crowe." She got out more or less politely, then turned on her heels and pulled Snape towards the doors with her. He seemed no less eager to finally leave this place, which made it more of a common hasting than either leading the other really. However before they could get far, another group of three men stepped into their way. They at least acknowledged Snape with a nod before focusing entirely on Robin.

"Miss Mitchell, I was wondering if you could tell us a bit more about the Siazella you found on accident. I have never heard of it before, which should be surprising enough at my age! How on earth did you know what you were dealing with?" The oldest in the group got right to the point, smiling in a curious and friendly manner at least, and Robin still had to suppress a sigh. She just wanted to leave… but that would have to wait. If Dumbledore had already set her up for the lecture, he surely would expect her to answer the professional questions as well. At least these men actually seemed sincerely interested in her research.

For another twenty minutes Robin elaborated on the Siazella and her knowledge of it, careful to leave out her handbook nonetheless, and once she also had answered any follow-up questions, the three men finally wished them a good night and let them be at last. Two heartbeats passed, and then Snape and Robin practically ran out the doors to avoid getting held up another time. Only once they had rushed all the way through the hallways and down the first flight of stairs, they finally slowed down a little, which left Robin both breathless and amused. Somehow, fleeing from the crime scene together had a charme in itself.

"I'm glad it's finally over…" She sighed as they walked down the elaborate staircase that –as everything in the wizarding world, it seemed– was merely lit by an astonishing number of candles. "The day was more annoying than I remembered it to be, and a whole lot more exhausting. I'm glad it's just you and me now."

"I wonder why I ever attended this pathetic event in the first place." Snape grumbled to himself in return, his scowl coloured by the barest hint of a pout. "A room full of idiots who speak nonsense and pride themselves in entirely irrelevant matters. I could have the very same in the Slytherin common room."

Robin let out a snort, which however was followed by an almost affectionate smile. "You attended because of me, I would say."

"So did everyone else, obviously." He drawled, rolling his eyes in complete disdain once more, much like the expression he had given the younger Crowe.

"Are you jealous?" She couldn't help asking in a teasing tone, quirking an eyebrow at him in amusement. Yeah, maybe teasing him when he was annoyed wasn't the best idea.

"Whyever would I be?" He scoffed immediately, a little too immediately, and definitely much too defensively.

"Because unlike back at Hogwarts, I am the one with a reputation here." She grinned in return, choosing to let go of what she had originally been insinuating in favour of a more universal interpretation, then couldn't help laughing at her own thought. "Usually you're Batman and I'm Robin. But here I'm Batman and you're Robin… which you're probably not used to being. But I can assure you that I definitely couldn't have done any of this without you, so perhaps it's not the best analogy."

He rolled his eyes again, but couldn't help the small smirk tugging on his lips. "Poor analogy indeed, especially for you. As far as I remember, you are the heroic type who saved a girl from almost certain death, twice in a row."

"And you are far braver than you give yourself credit for! I mean, you're spending a great deal of time with me, that's gotta take some bravery to go through with willingly." Robin smirked up at him, raising her eyebrows in humour as they made their way through the almost empty entrance hall in complete ignorance of everyone who was still present.

"If I was any kind of brave, I would have cursed all those men up there the second they dared to gawk at you in such a lewdly manner." He said once they were finally out in the dark street again, and his words sent an immediate shiver through Robin. But she also reminded herself that he probably, no, definitely didn't mean it in the way her mind so desperately wanted to believe.

"That wouldn't have been brave but just rash." She replied with a small smile, calm and reassuring, even though her heart was racing. "Take Crowe, for example. He was only sweet-talking me to get information on my personal life. And as much as I wanted to hex him myself, it just would've looked like I have something to hide."

"How can you be so rational about people mistreating you like that?"

"Practice." Robin shrugged with an actually humoured smile. "And I had you with me the entire time; what bad could possibly have happened to me?"

"I feel honoured by that assessment, but still, you take their crude behavior far too lightly."

"I'd rather say you take it too seriously. You said yourself that it's just a room full of idiots and creeps, so why should we waste a thought on them?" She gave him a pointed look to accompany the statement. "It's over now either way, and the only idiot you have to deal with is me."

"Yes, but that is an entirely different matter. You are my idiot."

"I am?" The grin was on her face before she could help it, and his words burned themselves into her memory to haunt her in her mind for all time to come.

"Obviously." He quirked an eyebrow at her in a way that made her grin even more, and only then he allowed himself the tiniest smirk in return. A moment passed in silence before he spoke on. "It is fairly late already, and knowing you, you will most certainly want to look into another theory tomorrow morning."

"We don't have to! I mean, if you'd prefer to… to take a break, we can continue any other time really. If you've got something else to do, I absolutely understand that. I mean it's been two weeks, and I haven't even once asked if I was keeping you from anything, and really it's been quite rude of me to just blindly assume that you would want to waste your entire holidays on me, but since we never really discussed it, you know, I just-..."

"Breathe." He cut in with a still subtly amused expression. "Tomorrow is fine."

"Good…" Robin said and let out a long breath at the same time indeed. Really, if she was exceptionally good at anything, it would have to be rambling. Or overthinking. "Tomorrow morning it is then."

"The cliff?"

"Always lovely meeting there. Eight as always?"

"Very well."

"So… time to say goodnight, I guess."

"Indeed."

And yet, they both remained standing a step apart on the dark sidewalk, looking at each other expectantly while neither wanted to be the first to go. After half a minute, Robin started smiling, then grinning, and finally straight out laughed at the situation and at how silly they both were being. This wasn't the first time this had happened, but it never ceased to amuse her, nor amaze her that he seemed to be as reluctant to part ways as her.

"Coffee?" She finally asked with a soft smile.

"Yes."

… … …

Finding a place to have decent coffee after eleven at night was surprisingly easy in London, but for the sake of being a little more subtle than going to the Leaky Cauldron or any other establishment where either of them surely would be recognized, they settled for a random muggle pub that wasn't too crowded nor too loud, and where hopefully nobody would ask questions about Snape's choice of clothing. He'd been very much right in that regard, muggles didn't take too kindly to people in robes, but since Robin looked mostly normal, they merely received a few odd glances. Admittedly, they could simply have gone back to making instant coffee somewhere far away from people, but real coffee was a tempting change for once. Thus they found themselves sitting at a small table in a corner, and Robin couldn't help enjoying the anonymity of a crowded place as well as the bliss of doing something so very ordinary with Snape for once. If one looked at it that way, they had never actually spent time in public together, so this was a welcome new experience that came with very welcome tingles no less. Before long their orders arrived, and the overly cheerful blonde waitress reminded Robin of something she had almost forgotten about after everything that had happened that day.

"Oh fuck…" She groaned under her breath, sighing at the realization that her evening had just gotten a whole lot longer than anticipated.

"Huh?"

"Oh, nothing really." She sighed again as she returned Snape's inquiring gaze and rested her chin in her hands, elbows propped up on the table. "I just remembered that I still have something to do when I return… home tonight."

"Doesn't look like it will be a pleasant task. Chores?"

"If that's what you wanna call Cas, then sure." Robin laughed, especially when he rolled his eyes in return. "I'm supposed to help her with something, and I don't know if I can. At least not in the way she would like me to."

"You have always been exceptional at keeping me in suspense." He sighed, then took a sip of his coffee and motioned for Robin to go on already. After briefly considering it, she did.

"I said something on the train ride home, about how a well written letter can be a great way to connect with someone if you can't see them for a while. And well… she wants to write to Simon without being cheesy or boring."

"And she wants you to write it for her?" Snape quirked an eyebrow at Robin in doubt. "That would defy the entire purpose of such a letter, wouldn't you say?"

"Obviously it would, and that's why I don't know how to help her! She didn't specifically ask me to write it for her, just to help her in any way I can. Give her some inspiration, or pointers maybe… You got any idea?"

"I'm afraid I have no experience with this kind of matter. Most letters I have written throughout my life were related to my work in both content and form. Don't you have received or written something of a similar kind before?"

"Obviously not! I've only ever written to you, to be honest." Robin shrugged, stirring her coffee with a spell before remembering where she was and quickly taking the teaspoon instead. "But I'm supposed to be the knowledgeable one and help Cas out. It's my job to know better than her."

"That is what I thought about you for a certain amount of time." He mused with a not-smirk. "But I gave up at some point in your third year."

Robin chuckled, sipping her coffee as well, before setting it down with a sigh and a new determination. Without another word, she summoned a piece of paper, a pen, and Cas' book out of her backpack, then placed it on the table in front of her with a thud. "You're helping me with this. If I don't know what I'm doing and you don't either, we better be clueless together."

"I had feared you would suggest that." He sighed dramatically, giving her a teasingly annoyed glance nonetheless. "But I would be a poor excuse of a friend if I let you down in times of despair."

Smiling, Robin pushed the dreaded book closer to him and kept the paper to herself. "Here, look through that for anything useful. Cas loves this book, it's full of sappy teen romance."

"And you would know that because…?"

"She sneakily made me promise to read it, so I did. I had to."

"Of course she did…"

"Now you just sound like Dumbledore."

"Insult me and I'm gone." He drawled in bad neutrality while flipping through the pages, and Robin had to snort. Neither of them seemed to be on good terms with the headmaster today, not after he had put Robin through giving a lecture without even a notice.

"The book really is quite terrible. I got it over with in the first week of the holidays, but I barely made it out alive." She remarked as she brainstormed what she knew about letters, love, Cas and Simon, but her thoughts kept coming back to the book as her only point of reference.

"What is it even about? I cannot tell from the glimpses of bad dialogue thrown at me here."

"Oh, you know… stupid stuff." Robin replied evasively, but even to herself that answer was a poor excuse, if anything. She hadn't written it after all, nor even read it voluntarily. But secretly enjoyed it a little more than she would ever admit. "This eighteen year old girl who falls madly in love with some guy who's new at her school. Ridiculous, really… They don't even know each other all that well, but still hit it off after just a few weeks of unreasonable conflict. It's the least romantic thing ever, they don't even seem to care about each other as much as they care about themselves. They go through all those firsts together, which admittedly is quite adorable, but then they ruin it all again by being so flat and shallow and vain that you just wanna smack them in the head the entire time. If anything, that book is a test of patience."

"Certainly sounds like it, yes… The writing is poor, the plot too as it seems, and the dialogue is an abomination in itself."

"Yeah, you could say that." Robin snorted with a smile.

"Perhaps we should treat it as a negative example for the task at hand then." He suggested. "Tell me, what exactly is bad about the way this is written?"

"Well, the entire thing is just so exaggerated and blown out of proportion... It feels unnatural for people who have known each other such a short time to be quite so over the top with their emotions and declarations." Robin started, and at the same time Snape plucked the pen out of her hand and pulled the papers on the table closer to himself.

"Do go on." He said as Robin stopped speaking to frown at his doings, and then gave her a look that left no room for argument beyond his words.

"Uh, alright… as I said, it's exaggerated, and just too much. Then the author also relies way too much on the use of straight out saying 'I love you', as well as just kissing and making out, to indicate the sentiments between the characters. The emotions should rather be obvious between the lines; if you have to directly say them to be understood, you're doing it wrong. Not that saying it would be bad, I don't mean it like that, it's just… it shouldn't be said just because it needs to be. At least not when they're already in a relationship. Their love should be the driving force of everything that is said, not the direct message itself, and-..." Robin cut herself off before she could start rambling again, and focused on moving on instead. "Then, as I said earlier, they seem to not even know each other. You could switch out any of the names on the pages, and it wouldn't make a difference. They should be playing on what they know and adore about each other, even if it's not much yet. Just… lending a book to someone who loves books will be a much more meaningful gesture than getting them a bouquet of roses, for example. People really shouldn't be afraid to go for the unusual kind of gestures and gifts."

"That makes for a decent list of don'ts already, which is a point to start. So tell me, what would you like to read instead of the negatives you pointed out? You already mentioned a few ideas for improvement, but perhaps you can think of more. Start from the negatives you created, and envision their counterpart."

Robin gave him a partially annoyed, partially desperate look, but he merely quirked an eyebrow and waited for her to continue. Insufferable idiot… but his idea to make her talk on the basis of the stupid book was helping more than anything she had come up with herself. Sighing, Robin gave in. What would a teenager want to hear from their love interest? What would Cas enjoy reading if she already enjoyed the stupid book so much? Damnit… this was difficult. "I don't know… I'm not good at these things, I can't imagine what a teenager would want to read."

"If Cassandra would have wanted to write by the standards of a teenager, she would have asked one of her mutuals. But she asked you, so you might as well advise her from your own perspective."

"Fine…" Robin sighed, and hid the heat on her face behind her coffee cup. What had she enjoyed hearing from Snape, in letters or in conversation? Or rather what would she enjoy? Damnit, she should have allowed herself to dream about this more often. "I think it is of major importance how much you let someone see of yourself. Allowing them to know you better than anyone else, giving them the chance to understand you in a different way by showing them more than just the big picture. Learning about the small and random moments in someone's life just has an entirely different level of intimacy to it than learning about the big things. I mean sure, it's the big events that shape a life, but it's the small things that shape the person and give them their colour. If I had to choose, I would always choose the colour, because it is what makes a person truly who they are, and not just the sum of bad or good things that have happened to them. The sky doesn't need a shape to be beautiful either, but it's the colour that makes one fall in love with it."

For the moment that followed, they both stayed quiet. Robin sipped the remainder of her coffee, and Snape finished writing whatever he was noting down of her words and thoughts. Perhaps she shouldn't have let herself get so deep… perhaps she shouldn't have asked him for help in the first place. But then she would be sitting in her tent by herself tonight, listening to the same old records she had put on every night since taking the player, and drown in sorrows over how little she really knew about love, and about people. No, this was much better indeed. Before long, Snape pushed the piece of paper across the table towards Robin again, and she smiled when she saw the perfectly organized list of things to avoid, and things to do instead. Copying it would probably be the best idea, to send it to Cas in her own handwriting. But Robin was keeping the original for sure.

"I think that should be a decent reference for anyone to write by." He said calmly, and finished the rest of his coffee while leaning back in his chair. "Cassandra would have to make a real effort to mess it up now."

"You should never underestimate Cas' ability to mess things up… Especially the easy ones." Robin grinned at him for a moment, until she managed to tone it down to a sincere smile. "Thank you for your help with this. I think we did pretty well for two people who didn't know any better."

"You shouldn't thank me. It was you who said every single thing that is on this list; I merely wrote it down in an appropriate format."

"And you made me say them in the first place!" Robin objected, almost finding herself as amused as nervous by the fact that the statement was only too true. He was the only reason she knew what truly loving someone felt like, even if it left her no wiser about being loved in return. But she knew that he appreciated her quite a lot, at least. Who else could say that about themselves, huh? In a way, that was a status as exclusive as it could get.

"Perhaps we simply make a good team no matter how impossible the endeavour." He suggested calmly, and gave her a not-smirk that had her melting within seconds.

"We most certainly do."

______________________________

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[umbralsound-xiv]

Kitten.

[With Blood On Her Hands] Previous <<< || >> Next [Pieces]

She walks with confidence. With a limp.

Broken, battered, and bruised. The blood that spilled from her crown still sticks her hair to her cheek, even after all the time it had been, for it to dry and flake against her skin.

But four guards had become six. And she was no longer allowed to walk or rest unbound.

Little victories, Bexy thought. Even as her ribs rang with the pain of every breath, she didn’t give him an ilm of satisfaction as she was escorted to his presence. Her stomach ached with hunger, lips parched and begging for a drop to drink. It had been suns, now.

As his glaring, mismatched eyes settled on her form, she was promptly shoved to her knees before him, as her escorts fell back; Only E’sehri stayed close by. He stares. And she smiles. The sort reserved for a darker purpose.

“Y’vhala.”

She’s the first to speak for a change. And he doesn’t like it one bit.

He responds with a sharp kick to her ribs that is enough to skid her across the dirt and wind her. With a long, deep breath, he gives an annoyed huff through his nose as he walks over her, turning her head with the toe of his boot.

“The next time you say my name, you’ll be begging with it. I want you to remember that.”

His teeth grit his words as he pushes her face into the dirt, pulling back only when he was satisfied his they had sunk in. He is met with an indignant gaze as much as a defiant one.

“I won’t keep you long. Maybe i’ll even feed you, depending on how you do. E’sehri?”

The woman turns her head full of pink curls to a figure somewhere out of Bexy’s vision, and beckons them over.

“Please... Please don’t make me do this...” He whimpers, but his feet bring him forth regardless. A Seeker perhaps half Bexy’s age stumbles out of the dark, sandy brown hair reaching a bloodied, misaligned jaw. Torn clothes wrapped tight around his limbs as crude bandages from where he’d been cut and beaten. He clutches a small, writhing sack that hisses and cries.

“You should’ve thought of that before you caused me so much trouble, D’hari!”

A fist collides with the aforementioned jaw, and the younger man screams in pain. The sound of a fist beating against flesh over and over. He wasn’t in immediate view, and Bexy was glad for that; not that the sounds him whimpering and crying out had made the ordeal any better.

“You should thank him, Bexy! Had he not decided to act up the same night you tried your little escape attempt, i might not have stopped!” He wrenches her up by her bindings, and cuts them free with a knife before shoving her back down to her knees. Her eyes meet the man before her with some gratitude.

Y’vhala very well might not have stopped that fateful night. She’d seen him do much worse in anger. She gives the faintest, most fleeting of smiles, and the room falls into a fragile silence.

“Right! Down to business.”

The squirming sack is dropped in front of Bexy, and she eyes it with some suspicion as a knot forms in her stomach. Her newly freed hands are rubbed at the wrists to get some proper feeling back into them.

“You said you could freeze anything you came into contact with. I don’t doubt that. You so annoyingly proved it.” He half-growls his last sentence, and pulls free the drawstring on the sack.

“And you said you could unfreeze things, too. That you could---”

“I said i was practising.” She corrects with a glare. She knew what he was going to ask. And the thought of it made her sick to her stomach. Two bright green eyes meet hers from inside the sack, and the tiny kitten within hisses at her.

“Good.” Y’vhala sneers, now holding the now weeping young man by the hair, wrenched up to watch. “Then practise.”

Bexy glares at him hatefully, which softens as her eyes meet that of her fellow victim.

And then to the kitten. 

Ears pinned back and teeth on show, the tiny creature was clearly terrified. Bexy reaches and takes a gentle but firm hold of it, as it writhes and sinks it’s teeth and claws into her hand. With how lacerated from glass it already was, it barely registered as pain.

A squeal. A scream. As her aether surged and took it’s tiny body. It writhes, and slows, and... Stops. Bexy takes care not to move her hand for fear of breaking anything. The man in Y’vhala’s grasp begins to sob, as Y’vhala himself gives an impatent gesture to continue.

The kitten. It’s eyes open. Unblinking. Mouth open in a frozen scream. Bexy takes a breath, and concentrates.

She’d only ever tried with fish. Fish couldn’t scream or make noise, and at least if she failed, she could always eat them. Nothing with fur, flesh, blood and bone like this. Nothing with a terrified racing heartbeat she could feel against her palm.

Slowly, she attempts to pull her aether back. Little by little. Much, much slower than she’d ever poured it in. The ice leaves the tiny body, but the cold doesn’t.

It just lays there. Unmoving.

And breathes.

“Good... Good!” Y’vhala’s words of praise were foreign and bitter to her ears. “Well done, Bexy. You are good for something. Here!”

An apple is tossed into her hands, and Bexy wastes no time in devouring it, core and all. Her stomach groaned and lips stung at the long awaited sensation of food, as D’hari was thrown into the dirt beside her. His hands reach to cradle the kitten, which slowly comes round with the warmth of his touch.

Y’vhala frowns. The entire heartwarming scene sickened him. He hadn’t been entirely sure if she’d succeed, but was prepared enough either way.

His lips curl into a smirk.

“Okay. That’s enough of a rest. Next task.” He grabs D’hari by the hair again, and drops him in front of Bexy.

And she stares.

“Y’vhala, No---!”

“Do the same with him. It shouldn’t be much different, no?”

“Y’vhala!” Bexy did indeed plead with his name. That brought another sick smile to his lips.

“Y’vhala i can’t do this! Please, this is too much!”

He laughs, taking a handful of her hair and dragging her closer to D’hari, who flinches and whimpers at the thought. Running doesn’t even cross his mind.

“You can, and you will. You do remember the price for defying me, don’t you?”

Her eyes widen, and it’s all she can do to not give him the satisfaction of tears.

“You do. Good. Then get to it.”

Bexy and D’hari exchange glances. Her torn and bloody hands reach for his. She is gentle. Calm. Just as she was with the kitten, who lays just out of reach of both of them, moving shakily on tiny feet.

“I’m so sorry.” Whispers Bexy.

D’hari is afraid. Pale yellow eyes meet hers; he never deserved this fate. Wrong place, wrong time. Just like so many others in his clutches. He holds her arms, even as tears spill over his cheeks. And he smiles.

“...It’s okay.” He whispers back.

Bexy sends her aether into his body. D’hari screams. She’d expected that. He wailed - But didn’t fight back. A sob finally leaves Bexy’s lips as the loud crackle and pop of ice smothers his form, and leaves him still and rigid in her grasp.

His eyes, wide and round, and much too young to die.

She pulls her ice back. Slowly. But it was too much, too far - And with her grief, she could barely control it. His arm splits and cracks at the shoulder as a crumbling ruin, hitting the ground with a hard, unpleasant sound.

Silence. Nothing but silence. Bexy’s face is obscured by a veil of hair as she hunches over him.

“Perhaps i was wrong.” He spoke like expected her to fail. The wicked smile curls his lips again. “You aren’t good enough. E’sehri. Show her the price for failure. Kill more of them.”

More of them?

The crunch of Y’vhala’s boots against dirt rounds her, to get a better look at her grief stricken features.

How many had he killed?

And he gets a little too close.

“You BASTARD!”

Bexy screams, and lunges at him, knocking them both into the dirt. It’s all too fast for him to react, as her hand reels back and strikes at his nose, busting and breaking it with a single hit, as she wrenches his shoulders back and slams his head into the ground.

“E’SEHRI!”

He screams for her help, and fights her hands away from his neck in a desperate power struggle, her aether beginning to bite it’s way into his flesh as only murder and vengence set like stone in her gaze. She didn’t care how much using it hurt; it was only as E’sehri’s lightning hits her square in the chest that it launched her and sent her world spinning again.

She fights to take a breath, as the air was beaten out of her lungs by something long and wooden. The seething pain in her back worsened, and she was soon surrounded; a strike to her temple steals her vision, but not before she saw Y’vhala stagger to his feet, soaked in blood.

Blow after blow strikes her body. Her arms. Her legs; they left the important parts alone; she feels an arm break under the weight of a particularly vicious swing; the snap of bone audiable even under the commotion.

“That’s... That’s enough...” Y’vhala breathes, rage clinging to his breath.

“E’sehri! You know what to do!”

The unpleasantly familliar sensation of his hand balling in her hair is felt again, as she’s dragged across the floor.

“Every last one of them. And if you find the damned runaway, bring him back alive.

I’ll deal with him myself.”

Her conciousness ebbed from her mind, as every nerve stung with pain.

Please, she thought. Please be safe.

Bexy is dragged unceremoniously by her hair down the corridor.

It didn’t matter what she did.

He’d have gone after them anyway.

She only cursed herself for not realising sooner, as her thoughts fade into darkness.

#Muse: [Bexy] #Chapter: [Until Death Do Us Part] #FFXIV #Writing #Short Story #TW: Animal Cruelty #TW: Violence

[loruleanheart]

Desired Fate, Chapter 10

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The atmosphere around him had become much colder and darker as night descended on the Gerudo Highlands. The prophet stirred. Everything hurt, but there was also the headache that only intensified when he tried to reason with what had happened.

It had to have been a dream… A very terrible and ridiculous dream… Yes, a dream… Not a prophecy...

His mind couldn’t accept that Hylia herself spoke to him.

Yet, If it hadn’t been real, then how had he survived Sooga’s attack?

Hylia… That vile goddess had turned his whole world upside down, her ways more bewildering to Astor than even the Yiga Clan.

The conflicting thoughts had been tormenting to begin with, now they were only magnified to an unbearable intensity. As devoted as he was to the Calamity he was only mortal, and he didn’t want to perish over what he’d so blindly followed for too long. But the alternative would make him a failure in Calamity Ganon’s eyes, and wasn’t the Calamity the only thing that mattered? 

She had known everything… Every thought and emotion no matter how deep or repressed, she had laid it all bare, and it terrified him. He feared his thoughts of the princess and his potential to be disloyal to Calamity Ganon.

That wasn’t the only thing he had to worry about. The Yiga Clan was almost certain to make another attempt on his life, and they knew the location of his hideout. The prophet gave a frustrated groan and turned to leave the Gerudo Highlands before a potential ambush could be devised by the clan.

He began to wander northeast aimlessly, only having a vague idea of where he was going. Eventually, desert cliffs gave way to lush green fields.

He could see Hyrule Castle’s silhouette in the distance, and he began to feel jittery, nearly breaking into a burst of insane laughter. He tried to focus his thoughts on how ironic it was that he and the princess now had the Yiga as a common enemy. Anything to not have to think about what was revealed to him by the goddess. It couldn’t be true…

Oh, I’m sure that would go over well. The king would be so thrilled… The prophet thought facetiously.

He gave Hyrule Castle and its surrounding town a wide breadth, also avoiding villages or other areas where people might congregate.

As he rounded the perimeter of the Lost Woods he couldn’t help but notice how visible the back of the castle was from this vantage point. Which window belonged to the Princess? The castle’s wide moat separated the ground he stood from the castle, but still, it was breathtaking to be so close.

The Lost Woods was much the same way. It was surrounded by water, with only one foot-path going in. The pink flowering top of the Great Deku Tree could be seen at the center of Great Hyrule Forest, and Astor thought back to that fated day he crossed paths with the princess before that great, imposing tree. Somewhere, within those woods was a much more mysterious place he had only seen in visions -  that place where the Silent Princess flowers grew rampant, and he was intent on finding it.

oOo

“No matter what it takes, you must awaken your power before the Calamity returns.” King Rhoam’s commanding voice filled the castle’s sanctum.

Zelda looked down, gathering her resolve. If the Calamity was going to rise on her 17th birthday, as newly uncovered images from the broken Guardian indicated, she didn’t have much time left. 

Whatever it takes? What is that supposed to mean? I’m already doing everything I can.

She bit back her protests, one more time, ever the good, obedient daughter. “Understood.”

“I sense you have become complacent regarding your duty,” King Rhoam said, becoming colder.

Zelda slowly looked up, at a loss. She could sense Impa’s sympathetic gaze on her, and she wanted to cast a glance back at the advisor in shared exasperation but thought better of it. “I - I’m sorry father. Please believe me. I’m trying my hardest. I really am -.”

“No more, excuses, Zelda! From this moment on you are to have nothing to do with the childish hobby you’ve been carrying on with Sheikah technology and you are to devote yourself fully to unlocking your power. You must be single-minded in this crucial duty. Or perhaps it is your poor attitude that is interfering with your training.”

Zelda flinched internally, but it barely showed on the outside.

“Yes, I understand… I will try harder.”

The King’s expression hardened and he raised his voice. “No, you don’t try! You do it! You are going to the Spring of Courage immediately, and Link and Impa are to accompany you, do I make myself clear?”

The Princess held her head high as she headed to her chambers to change into her ceremonial white gown. As soon as she was out of sight she let out a big huff and nearly broke down, but somehow held herself together.

She took her time getting changed, disconsolate and a little bit spiteful to have been humiliated in front of her friends. 

The gown was pure white and was designed with the goddess Hylia as inspiration. It was a small consolation to feel closer to her ancestor by donning the dress and royal heirlooms. 

She fixed her hair, undoing her braid and brushing it out. She put on the gold bracers and tossed her hair to one side to fasten the gold Hylia crest necklace passed down in the royal family for countless generations.

As she languidly moved about her chambers, her mind raced with thoughts of hopelessness. She had already trained at the Spring of Courage and Spring of Power in the past, and both had yielded no results. All that remained was the Spring of Wisdom on Mount Lanayru, and she would only be permitted to make the trip up the mountain when she reached the age of 17. But with knowledge of the day of Calamity Ganon’s return she knew it would be too little too late.

Before she left her chambers, Zelda paused to look at herself in the mirror. She gave a sharp exhale. All of Hyrule was believing in her, leaning on her to save them... or at least that's how it felt. Zelda wasn’t unaware of the fact that she was the subject of mockery among those who were aware of her unfulfilled duty. And although those closest to her were doing their best to support her, a void remained.

The worst was coming. She knew it. If only she had someone to brace herself against for when the Calamity would inevitably rise and consume everything and everyone she loved.

Zelda rested her forehead against the mirror and closed her eyes, holding back tears one more time, unsure how much longer she could hold on before she gave out.

oOo

Astor found himself in that mysterious place. The one seen in his visions as of late, particularly when the princess drew near to him. It was an ethereal and dark forest, hidden away within the Lost Woods much in the same way as Korok Forest. Perhaps it was the goddess who led him there and allowed him to find it, although Astor wasn’t sure if it was real or illusionary.

Moonlight peaked down through the tops of the trees, the blue and white Silent Princess flowers seeming to glow in its light. Was it always night here? It was clearly a refuge for him.

He took an uncertain step forward, looking around. There was a small spring of clear water.

He thought of the princess and how she would likely go to the Spring of Courage and Power soon. Let her try, the prophet thought. She wasn’t going to be unlocking that power anytime soon. He could envision her visiting one such spring, her shoulders bare, her dress clinging to her form as she stood in the water so focused on unlocking the power that evaded her. That jittery feeling came back in full force.

Kill her… You’ll be in control again… 

No, no… I must stay as far away from her as possible, lest the goddess’s prophecy comes true…

He wasn’t sure which one was Lord Ganon’s will. His trust in the Calamity had been so compromised he couldn’t discern Ganon’s or even fate’s design any longer. There was a part of him that wanted so much to remain faithful to Lord Ganon. He didn’t know how else to exist, even knowing that to remain loyal would end in regret for a prophecy unfulfilled and his own death.

The prophet held his head in his hands. He hastily disrobed, leaving his clothing in a haphazard pile, signaling his mental disarray. He got into the small spring, completely bare save for the circlet he wore with the Malice Eye. Many bruises from his earlier fight marred his pale skin.

Thoughts and feelings he might have easily shoved away before were becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. No, it was downright impossible after the goddess’s parting words, and his thoughts of the princess were running wild. He could feel the distance between himself and the Calamity widen further, and he panicked.

He slid under the water’s surface, holding his breath as long as he could. If Hylia was merciful maybe he’d drown and in death, those vexing feelings would stop plaguing him. The urge to take a breath was increasing, and he came back up, gasping.

Astor relaxed a bit, resting his head on the edge of the spring and stretching out into a comfortable position in surrender, hoping this place was indeed illusionary and that no one would stumble upon him in such a state, not that travelers typically explored these woods for fear of becoming lost.

This place was so… otherworldly… so beautiful. Astor wondered briefly if Calamity Ganon could even ‘see’ or perceive this place.

And at last, he confronted the goddess’s prophecy with a clearer mind, although wavering between doubt and resent. How could it come true? He had acted with such cruelty toward Princess Zelda, why would she ever look at him with anything other than disdain?

Astor had once been very disciplined in his mindset towards the princess and his plan to bring about her demise, but he was out of reasons to fight what had been repressed. His thoughts of her lingered and then intensified. He yearned to embrace her, to touch her, and ached to feel her hands on him. He was paralyzed by the thought, but he couldn’t deny how exquisite it would be to give in to those feelings if the opportunity ever arose, despite knowing he would continue to resist out of fear of losing himself.

The desire to have her was increasing to a point of no return and Astor knew he would have no peace until he could, at the very least, see Princess Zelda again.

#Astor #Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity #Age of Calamity #HWAOC #Zelast #Vaguely a Valentine's Day chapter #I feel like I'm really stretching that T-rating #Hylia take the wheel

[vesperlionheart]

For haha’s - Darklina

There is blood throughout the halls of the Keramzin orphanage, it stains the stones and clings to the walls and dries on the hands of Alina Starkov. She tastes something bitter deep in her throat but swallows it down as she moves through the orphanage, searching for more of the bodies left inside. She steps over the bloated form of a dirty man in hides, slashed open and killed the old fashioned way. She passes more of his companions but doesn’t care for any of them until she finds her children. 

She buries her babies with reverence and then burns the rest in a pit without a second thought.

 When Mal doesn’t come back she drinks. 

When the new month comes she prays. 

When the season ends without sight or sound of him, she leaves. 

Nikolai Lantsov watched nervously as another dark ritual finished filling out the color in an old monster’s features. Aleksander Morozova was just as handsome and devilishly fit in features as he had been on the day he died, if not better since he was actually, not dead. It was unnerving to watch what felt like for the thousandth time, a dark miracle perverting nature-but weren't Girsha like that to begin with? Who else lived for 500 years and looked like a university chap?

“You’re very pretty,” Nikolai admitted, not ashamed of the truth. 

The darkling was adjusting his gloves, tugging them down over his hands until his knuckles stood out, but he paused to glance up through his lashes and spare the boy king a withering, unimpressed look. “I know.” 

“Don’t let me stroke your ego, I’m properly sloshed so I’m sure it's only the intoxication that’s talking.” 

Nikolai gestured to the glass in his hand before knocking it back for the last dregs of amber colored courage. He hated every damned step to this never ending ritual on account of how annoying and bothersome it was, not how terrifying each peak into the land of death was. But worse than all of that was the demon inside of him that refused to stay down. Nearly a year later and it was getting worse. 

“You’ll need your wits about you for what comes next.”

“You’ve been so helpful,” Nikolai scoffed, “with letting me know the summation of all this planning, you know. It would have been terrible if you only told me one damned step at a time and kept me hanging in blind suspicion for months.”

“Sarcasm does not become you, puppy prince.” 

Nikolai glared with a smile. “Good thing I only speak the truth then.”

“You must now summon someone for me.” 

“Of course I must. Who is it this time?” A painter to capture your likeness in oils? A seamstress to dress you in silks? A palace chef who could-

“Alina Starkov.” 

The name caused a physical pain in Nikolai’s chest as every longing and snuffed out desire snapped back into place, like an overextended rubber band that had been stretched too far. It hurt to hear that name, but he didn’t mind this sort of pain.

“The sun summoner died. She’s not someone I can so easily summon for your royal darkness, even if I did raise your ass from the grave.” He was impressed with himself for how calm he came across. “You’ll have to adapt.” 

The darkling, beautiful and cold, did not respond at first, or give any indication that he had heard and understood the king’s words, but he twisted the leather of his gloves around his wrist, almost like a nervous habit. Eventually, he opened his mouth to speak. “I did not ask for the sun summoner, I asked for Alina Starkov, and nothing less will be sufficient in helping me subjugate the monster within you, little hound.” 

“Sturmhond.”

“I did not stutter,” The Darkling scoffed. “As I do not miss the hint of desperation in your voice, the way it shakes your eyes when you watch my revival though it may sicken you. Your hands are dirty with more than one type of darkness but they must be blackened further if you wish to have control over your own fragment of hell.” 

“I don’t want to control it, I want to kill it and no matter how desperately I want that I can’t bring back the dead for you-ckee!” 

Nikolai’s words were choked out as a leather glove wrapped around his throat and pulled him up off the ground.He grabbed at the wrist and kicked until he was shoved against the wall and left to sag back onto his feet. 

“Do not make the mistake of lying to me,” the darkling hissed. “I know she isn’t dead, I went first into the long night and she did not follow. She lives and she resides in your country, so summon her to your palace, summon her for me.”

Back on his feet again Nikolai rubbed at his neck, suspecting it to bruise for how roughly it had been gripped. “You also know that her powers left her, don’t you? Even if I could, you’d be asking for a farm girl.” 

“I won’t explain myself to you, there is no reason to. I care not for her power or her fame or her status as a saint, I simply request Alina Starkov. Do what you can to find the farm girl with no powers. I know it is within your abilities.” 

Nikolai turned away and reached to pour himself another drink, but found barely enough for a half glass in the decanter. It wasn’t enough for him so it was clearly not enough to share.

“I wasn’t trying to deceive you when I told you she’s dead. To the best of my knowledge that’s the truth. She retired to obscurity with the tracker and together they set up an orphanage. We maintained some limited contact over the years but when my letters went unanswered I sent someone to seek her out.”

The Darkling’s silence was as good as a question so Nikolai continued.

“The orphanage was bloody and empty.” Nikolai sipped his drink and tried to pretend his heart wasn’t bleeding in his chest as he relieved the pain from that day. “Locals explained a band of extremists passed through, upset at their adoption of suspected grisha children. There were graves and a pit discovered on site but nothing else. Sightings of the tracker, Mal, led my spies to conclude she...she was one of the graves.”

“But it was not confirmed,” the Darkling clarified. “You did not dig up her bones to see for yourself if one of the mounds was hers. You only assumed and you assumed wrong. She did not die.”

Nikolai dared to hope and it hurt like thorns in his heart. “How could you say something like that so confidently? Up until a month ago you didn’t have flesh. What do you know?”

“Nothing so humble connects her and I. If she were to be gone from this world I would know it, yet I feel her still. Alina Starkov lives and I need her.”

 The darkling looked down at his hand, at the center of his palm and it was almost as if there was something there he was transfixed by. The harsh edges of his expression softened and emotion made his slate gray eyes a little lighter. The darkling swallowed and the harsh lines to his features returned in time for him to fix the blond with a withering stare.

 “She lives. Find her.”

No one had ever accused Alina Starkov of being a gabler, but playing cards with the Three Babas might have been the riskiest thing she did on an impulse. It would have been less dangerous to play cards with a devil, because at least with a devil you know what you're wagering. 

There was something disconcerting about waking up one morning only to realize there was no vision left for you; no epic battle plans, to cunning exploits, nothing planned out to accommodate the travesty destiny had raised you to rally against. She didn’t even have a villain to set herself up against. The world wasn’t perfect, but the fold was no longer an issue and Alina found herself without purpose. Her children were gone, her would-be husband lost to his whims, and the powers that gave her such grand meaning were only a memory.

And that all mde her wander. 

A little older, a little broader, a little wiser, she traveled on foot or by cart when the neighbors of her country were kind enough to spare her the room. She ended up somewhere in the backwoods, somewhere rural enough to have a single village center like it was some big deal and enough work for a girl with rough hands to apply herself to. 

The town felt safe enough and that made her wonder, so when she asked the neighbors they told her about the three babas who watched over the town and kept it a little separate from the rest of the world with its problems and its wars. 

That question must have been invitation enough because Alina found herself invited to a game of four way trick on the edge of town under the leaning roof of a wood cutter’s cottage.  Three older woman,each dressed in varying colors and patterns, head covering shawls, and wooden shoes, were there when Alina arrived like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

“Take a seat.”

“Sit a while.”

“Play a spell.” 

Sitting down opposite the three felt like being back in front of Baghra, standing in the shadow of a mountain more ancient than memory itself. Yet with Baghra there was never this exact sense of wrongness. Reality never felt off in this way with the Darkling’s mother. 

“You were expecting me?” Alina asked, touching the felt edged cards in front of her without reaching for them. Their texture was so worn and soft she assumed they had been played for decades. When was the last time she played cards? Did she know the rules to this game?

“Saw you coming is more like it,” the baba to Alina’s right croaked. Her head shawl was bright red with swirls of autumn blooms in shades of gold and yellow. Compared to the fabric her skin was withered and pale. 

“Take your hand,” the baba directly across from Alina instructed, sounding crankier than her counterparts. Her eyes were unseeing, sagged over with wrinkled flesh and her babushka was a vivid green with emerald threads stirling through the lighter fabric to illustrate buds and grass fields in full health. The headscarf stayed pinned in place with the help of a white crane pin.

“I’m not sure I know how to play,” Alina admitted before looking at her cards. Her hands were on the table but she was still licking her lips nervously, wishing for something stronger to throw back down her throat. Her head was fuzzy with too much clarity. 

“You will,” the last grandmother calmly corrected, looking up through her silver lashes from underneath a headscarf of brilliant blue, brighter than the sky and deeper than the oceans. Her smile was deceptively sweet, too thin, and too light. She sounded impossibly young for her physical appearance. “Pick up and play with us.” 

“What’s the game called?” Alina asked, picking up her cards. 

They were just as soft on the underside where the painted pictures stared back at her. It looked more like a tapo deck, a truth telling card series where wise women and elders would tell stories out of the pictures and even predict fates. Plenty of people used such a deck for idle games, but the stories were always the things that seemed to hold the most magic.

“Trick,” the grandmother in red said.

“Trap,” the grandmother in green corrected.

“Take,” the grandmother in blue giggled. 

Alina looked over her cards again. “I’m not willing to wager anything on my first game before even learning the rules.”

“Your time is value enough, my dear one,” the baba in blue cooed. “Let us teach you and show you the way.”

“I’ll admit to being a little lost,” Alina said, watching as the first two babas put down cards on the table then drew from the deck. 

The first card had a trio of children running through a field and the scrawling script said it was called: Innocence. The second card was of a woman hanging a curtain over her window, looking back over her shoulder to a bed where a lover waited. The script above said it was called: deception. When inverted it looked like the woman was pulling the curtain down the other name for it was: revelation.

“Being lost is the first step to being found.” The third grandmother hummed before laying down a card with the picture of a son standing in front of his father and grandfather, each holding a sword from a different era. It read: inheritance. 

Alina looked down at her cards and when she inhaled a sensation settled into the back of her throat, like the taste of a thick milk tea with burnt cloves, she swallowed it down before she could realize what it was. Her fingers stilled atop a card before she played it: Turmoil. 

Only with the card down atop the table did she recognize the taste on her tongue: Merzost. It was enough to lift the haze of suggestion she had been operating under and it was like waking up from a dream that didn’t make sense. But Alina didn’t panic. When she looked up again she could tell the grandmother in green knew what had happened. 

“You’re all witches, aren’t you?” 

“What a crude thing to say,” the blue one teased. 

“Was I wrong?” she dared.

“I like her,” the one in red admitted, looking at the one in green. “I told you I would. It only took one round.”

The grandmother in red huffed then called out, “Trick,” before gathering up all the cards played in that round and putting them on Alina’s side; her winnings. 

The next few cards were played in silence. Silence, Infatuation, Betrayal. Alina put down the last card, aware of what this round signified. Her card was of a hunter carrying home a far elk. The title was: Bounty. 

“Trap,” the one in green cheered as another layer of enchantment lifted. It felt so different from her small science, but also not. Alina was in more control of her senses and her thoughts, but that only lead to near panicking. 

“Why do you have me here and what could you want with me when I’m an empty vessel in your eyes?” She asked the old women as each drew a new card from the deck. 

“Then let’s skip a little ahead and show you,” the one in green said before laying down the first card for play. The one in blue gathered the previous set and put them next to Alina’s wrist. 

The cards were dealt: Conflict, Victory, Peace.

Alina swallowed down her disgust and played the last card, the only card she could: Slaughter.

“Take,” the one in red called out, flicking her wrist so the cards were turned over and fell into a neat pile in front of Alina. Atop them all was the picture of a butcher with his gutted lamb. He held  cleaver but Alina saw a hand sickle and felt it between her fingers.

“Why,” she whispered, tasting Merzost again as something heavier settled amongst them. 

“Because,” the first baba said while playing her last card. It was a child crying in between the trees. The title said: Lost.

“But also,” the grandmother in red played her last card: Anointed. 

“And yet,” the last grandmother played her card of a boy looking back over his shoulder at a back littered with scars and wounds: Scarred. Between them the old woman seemed to speak without words. 

Alina glanced down at her last card and sneered at the picture, not believing in it: Tyrant. The painting was of a beautiful woman with long black hair and eyes as green as raw Malachite. Atop her head was a crown of green stones and at her feet were the people, bowed so low they were curled figures in the corners of the card’s picture. 

“I’m not.”

“Not as you are, no,” the one in blue gently corrected before touching the card to push it back towards Alina. “But we’d like to see this now.”

“You’ve had your stab at peace, little lamb,” the one in red chuckled. 

“As you have with the small sciences,” the woman in red said, now no longer a crone but a beautiful woman with a face full of fire. Alina dropped her face to the table, averting her gaze as heat roared across her back. 

“An age of saints has passed, now let us deal with angels,”  the woman in green cooed, her long black hair spilling over the table. She stood but Alina didn’t see it, her eyes were squeezed tight. Her left fist went cold and she felt snow and ice on it. 

“What a fun game,” the beauty in blue cooed, picking up the snow kissed corners of her cape. 

When the world was quiet again Alina dared lift her gaze. 

The table was empty and her hands were bleeding. Into each palm a mark had been cut and colored with black magic. Her veins were thick with dark colors as she swayed in her seat. 

The story isn’t done, let's have our fun. Lets see a new book, a different chapter in this wondrous dream. 

Alina came down with a fever and survived on the good graces of the villagers who turned oddly devoted to the saint with no powers. That didn’t seem to matter to them one bit and she was all the more confused because of it. No one she spoke to had any more information about the three grandmothers, only that Alina was favored and welcomed in all their homes. 

A month later she still had no more answers but plenty of questions when a rider came to visit. He questioned the first villager with a portate, seemingly expecting nothing until Alina walked out of the miller’s hut. 

The rider dropped the portrait and Alina saw her face, colored and youthful with the same delicate features from years ago. 

“I’ll need a horse,” Alina said to whoever was nearest. “It seems this story isn’t done with me yet.”  

#no tags #my writing #writing

[x0401x]

Hi there! Just want to thank you so much for translating for the VE fandom! I've been looking through your VE posts and noticed you mentioned how anime!Gil is completely different from LN!Gil. I agree with you and was wholeheartedly disappointed in the anime. I was hoping you could elaborate more on your thoughts, where you thought anime!Gil and anime!Violet went wrong and how they were different from the anime. Sorry if you've already made a post on this previously. Thanks again!

Hi! You’re welcome!

This reply took me long enough, lol. I haven’t gone too much into detail, or else I’d just end up writing a bible. It still turned out long as hell, though, so I’ve put it under a cut.

I really didn’t know how to begin with this. “Where they went wrong” kinda implies that those two were going right until some point, and that’s just… not the case. They were a trainwreck from start to finish. And it’s kind of impossible to really discuss this without touching upon the massive fails in the writing of the entire show. It does try to convey important messages to the viewers, but mostly with visuals and repetitive lines, never with the actual plot or the characters. You get an inkling of what the story was attempting to do with them, and that initial idea is what seems to stay with most people, because there’s nearly nothing beyond it.

As director Ishidate has stated more than once before, he made changes to the story because he thought the novel was, in his words, “too orthodox”. But watering it down meant watering the characters down too, Gil and Violet more than anyone else. And this results in a show that ironically fails to grasp its own themes and cast — the personalities and conflicts get lost in the details and have to be patched up with excuses that end up displaying how little the show trusts its own audience. It keeps spelling out plot devices and character traits in an almost robotic manner, with very scarce effort put into actually showcasing them in the situations and dialogues. Everyone is too one-dimensional and the main plot line is repeated over and over instead of being alluded in parallels or even just slightly more intelligent exchanges. Animators like Ishidate have grown dangerously used to committing a grave narrative suicide: to give vague and unconvincing reasons for things to be the way they are and expect the audience to take it all as is simply because it was stated there. Everything is oversimplified because they clearly want the viewers to get invested in the emotional baggage of the show, and only the emotional baggage, because they think that’s all we get invested on. They forget that details are necessary for the whole experience.

These problems are recurrent in Violet and Gil, and they never stop. I’ll start with Gil, since he was mentioned first.

Gilbert Bougainvillea is a very complex, humane and multi-faceted character in the novel. What’s interesting is that he doesn’t look like it at first, so he surprised many readers in volume 1 with how caring and endearing he can be. And I mean caring for real. Anime!Gil seemed like a poor excuse for what he was supposed to represent, which in turn made him into a walking contradiction. In the novel, Gil is by far the person that emphasizes the most with Violet, because the two of them are two sides of the same coin. This is where the anime falls short most frequently. They at first look like polar-opposites, but are absolutely not, yet the show portrays them as such. Novel!Gil is gratuitously kind and righteous, and he’s brave and pure-hearted enough to stand by his values no matter what. He’s used to giving up everything for the sake of other people, but he has morals that he holds to the roots of his very being, so he always chooses to donate himself to what he deems as good causes. And once he has his mind set on an objective, he doesn’t mind playing dirty to achieve it, as long as he’s not hurting anyone. That’s exactly the same as Violet, and Gil isn’t the only one who sees himself in her — Hodgins and Dietfried also notice how alike the two are. Novel!Gil relates to Violet on a spiritual level, and he knows first-hand how she must feel. He’s been there and done that. And that’s why she’s his number one priority. His purpose in life is to protect her and keep her in a healthy lifestyle within a blessed working environment and a loving family. Quite literally, all he wants is to make sure that she’s happy, and he’s active and vocal about it. He’s also an unapologetic and unabashed feminist, so he completely approves of her doing anything for a living — she doesn’t need to live her life like an ordinary woman and whatever she wants for herself is fine, as long as it’s not too dangerous.

Apparently, his personality is one of the book aspects that Ishidate believed to be “too orthodox”. He depicts Gil the way you’d expect any male creator to depict a man — a brooding martyr figure who only has a heart of gold in fleeting moments that get replayed again and again in flashbacks to serve as justification for Violet’s undying love. He makes very little strides and there’s a lot of flawed reasoning behind his affection that makes it oddly disconnected, which is the fact that said affection is barely ever there. Gil hardly treats Violet like a person, let alone an equal. Violet is ready to give her life for him anytime, and as we see in the last battle at Intense, he’s ready to cling onto that to save his own life. Ishidate doesn’t shy away from making very evident that he thinks it’s okay for Gil to do only the minimum to earn Violet’s respect and trust, like it’s a given and all he’s required in order to earn her love is to exist. This is very visible in scenes like the one where they first met. Gil seems to shield Violet from the abuse of his brother, but shows next to no distress or even interest over it as he doesn’t even question where she came from or why Dietfried was treating her that way. There’s also the scene where he takes her to one of his family’s residences, and she has his jacket on, just like in the novel… yet he’s letting her walk barefoot in the snow without giving a single flying fuck. He then leaves her side as soon as he instructs the maid what to do with her, not looking back. I also hate that scene where he gets back home and she bumps into him and falls on her butt. He just stares at her and makes no effort to help her back up. But the one I hate the most is that festival scene where he nearly thanks Violet for fighting so well in battle. I mean, she’s killing people for him. She, a literal child, is in the frontlines of a long-lasting war, risking her life and committing mass murder for his sake. That’s literally nothing to be grateful for. Especially not when he’s supposed to love her. And I despise that he only stopped himself from finishing the phrase because he noticed the bruises on her.

Another major defect of the anime was changing Gil’s backstory. Anime!Gil was, by the looks of it, just a rich kid who enlisted simply because that’s the family tradition. And if you take away Gil’s backstory, you take away the viewers’ reason to empathize with him. Why? Because that means he’s morphed into someone who can make choices. Erase any factor that binds Gil to doing what his family and his superiors make him do, and what you have is a grown man with his free will intact. And he uses none of it to help Violet. Anime!Gil was always given the opportunity to say no. He could’ve said no to Dietfried and sent Violet straight to the Evergardens, he could’ve said no to his superior officer and not taken her into the military, or he could’ve at least said no to assigning her to the men’s troops. He didn’t because there would be no story otherwise. Novel!Gil is always attempting to save Violet from the war and from herself, while anime!Gil’s actions beg to differ. And so, anime!Violet’s obsession with Gil stems from the fact that he was the first to treat her remotely like a human being and that, for a long time, he was all she had. None of that fate thing, because it’s also “too orthodox”. But without the fate element and without Gil having no control whatsoever over how he feels about Violet, he’s straight-up a pedophile. If he feels regular romantic love for Violet, who is in her mid-teens, that’s pedophilia right there. This one is my biggest beef with anime!Gil, and I don’t take criticism for it.

Now Violet. Not to be rude, but I see so many people talk about how interesting her anime counterpart is, yet I rarely ever see anyone going in-depth on it. It’s like the way the fans talks about the show. Literally every single person who comments that they liked it always says the exact same thing: “I cried during every episode”. I sort of feel like most of them are just reproducing what they see other people say out there, which is probably what got them interested in watching it in the first place. I don’t mean this with ill-intent; it’s just seriously the impression I get from looking at the tag. I’ve accompanied it since the novel came out all the way back in 2015, and when the show was running, believe it or not, I didn’t really see much of those comments. It started becoming a habit to say it after episode 10, which seems to be the highest-rating episode (the irony being that it was the closest the anime ever got to the novels). Hence why it feels to me like some people just say it on automatic, and I get the same vibe from the fans of anime!Violet.

I’ll just be blunt here: the main difference between anime!Violet and canon!Violet is that canon!Violet was made to be liked by girls and women, and anime!Violet was made to be liked by men. I have already said this before, but Violet is the very definition of independent professional woman in the novel. She’s educated, confident, strong, reliable, altruistic and overall well-versed in at least a little bit of everything. Half of it is due to luck and half of it is her own merits, but all in all, she was created not just to be relatable but also a character that people could look up to. Meanwhile, anime!Violet was clearly made to be waifubait.

I can’t really stress how little thought was actually put into her portrayal and development. We never truly see her internalizing the lessons that she supposedly learns in each of the self-contained episodes. We only ever witness her displaying sudden significant hints of emotion at convenient times, paired to her either repeating what she was told earlier by one of the characters or taking an extremely obvious conclusion to a question that was already half-answered by someone else. Because of this, Violet’s growth process has an unsteady pacing in the anime and mostly feels disjointed. In comparison, novel!Violet is usually not the point of view — she’s often in the role of observer, and we notice through the solutions she comes up with for her clients’ issues that she does have a very humane connection with them. We also notice through the clients’ opinions on Violet that she shows subtle changes at certain specific points, such as smiling just a little when she manages to not only accomplish her duties but also help solve their problems. This makes her more real and believable because, unlike the anime, it presents no abrupt alteration to the essence of her person. She’s growing in her own way, but it’s still easy to tell. It’s also very clever to have Violet be disliked or misunderstood by her clients at first because she’s so aloof and apathetic-looking, but then she grows on them after they actually understand her, and the readers can absorb that from them. I’ve seen many people complain that they can’t really empathize with anime!Violet, but in the novel, the author takes care not to let this happen, and it really doesn’t.

What upsets me the most is that anime!Violet is overly infantilized. We all know that director Ishidate loves her like a father loves a daughter; it’s been said by himself and his colleagues quite a lot. That’s cute and all, but it made her depiction extremely shallow. The biggest problem was making her 14 in the anime. I still struggle to understand what would’ve been so bad with keeping her as a 17-year-old. Sum that up with removing many of her merits and adding forceful childish traits, such as being okay with changing clothes anywhere in front of anyone or pouting when she’s frustrated, and you have the perfect recipe of what waifu junkies like to be spoon-fed with. In my opinion, anime!Violet was a downgraded tragic heroine played in a cheap and boring way to attract tearjerker lovers.

I hope this has covered enough of my take on the matter. ✌️

#violet evergarden #gilbert bougainvillea

[crybabycounselor]

BACK TO SCHOOL (AND HATING MY LIFE)

(TW for Stress eating, body shaming, bullying, and descriptions of insecurities, self hatred, and body image issues)

Elise dreaded waking up that morning. The entire night was just on and off again dozing, she couldn’t stay asleep due to what she feared awaited her at school that day.

Winter break was sadly over, she had a full 3 weeks at home with her foster family, and a full 3 weeks basically by herself...

Otis and Robin went out of town to go spend the holidays with their families. Otis was all the way in New Jersey to go see his grandparents and aunties. And Robin was out further into the state to go meet some of her aunts and uncles for the first time.

Elise couldn’t say she was necessarily lonely, but the two of them had... Better things to do than just talking with her.

With 3 weeks to herself, Elise spent a majority of the time locked up in the guest room her bedroom, only occasionally coming out to help with baking, dinner time, or if she was basically forced to go see family.

Baked goods and holiday sweets were something she turned to to cope with... Well... Everything. Why focus on how much of a disaster Thanksgiving was when you could eat like 6 chocolate chip cookies in a row? Or why bother seeing your brother when he went to go drop of Christmas Presents when there are leftover goodies in the fridge still?

She wished she had more self control, though. Sure, food was cheaper than therapy (and the fridge sure was closer than it, too), but it was too late. Damage was done. By the end of winter break, she couldn’t even recognize herself in the mirror.

While eating her breakfast that morning, Elise had begged to skip school for a few weeks, or to even let her drop out and be homeschooled. Despite her pleas, David insited that dropping out or skipping school wasn’t a good idea, and that her education was more important than the opinions of others.

It wasn’t fair. She wished there was some sort of “undo button” to fix this entire issue, or maybe she could try and fake being sick to get out of it all?

It’s not like a single sick day could magically fix all of her problems, though. She just had to sick it in up and face the music.

Elise never felt more vulnerable than she did walking done those halls. With David’s old hoodie covering as much as it could, she tried to disguise herself some everyone in school. Not like they could even recognize her in the first place, but eventually somebody would-

“Hey, Elise! Over here!”

...Son of a bitch.

Of course Otis and Robin were waiting for her at their lockers. Were they waiting for her all morning?

Elise gulped before she slowly went to her locker, holding her backpack close to her chest to try and hide from them.

“Hey, we didn’t see you on the bus, did David take you?” Otis asked.

“Oh, I uhh... I walked instead,” Elise explained quickly opening up her locker and leaning in it and taking her time to grab her books.

“You walked? There’s a bunch of snow outside, why’d you walk?” Robin asked, pointing to the nearest window.

Elise’s lips pressed together, “Um... I’ve been lounging around all week... I... I needed the exercise...”

Maybe they’d believe that instead of just her having absolutely no self control over break.

Otis’ brows pressed together. “Is everything alright? You’re acting weird, Khal”

She paused, still looming into her locker. “I-It’s nothing. I’m alright”

Otis leaned in, “Khaleesieeeee-”

Elise whined as she slammed her head in her locker, sliding her forehead and bangs down as she knelt down as low as she could. Definitely not a lowkey performance, but it’s all she wanted to do in the moment.

Otis stepped back, “O-Oh, okay, um-”

Robin (who was just standing by idly the entire time) stepped in now.

“Hey, come on, what’s all this about?”

Elise turned to look at her, her face red (whether it was from her banging her head on metal or if it was red because she was about to cry was up for debate)

“Haven’t you noticed?” She asked, her voice croaking on it’s way out.

“Notice what?” Asked Robin.

Elise sniffled before she stood up and turned to face them.

“I’m fat.” she announced bleakly.

Robin shrugged, “Okay, and?”

Otis gave Robin a nudge, and Robin just nuged him back, obviously not understanding exactly why he nudged her.

Elise crossed her arms over herself, “I look ugly”

Otis stepped in, “No, you don’t”

“I dooo” Elise said, covering her face now to try and muffle her crying.

Otis looked around the hallway, seeing a few people looking at the three of them with mild judgement.

Otis returned the sour expression to everyone else as he put a hand on her shoulder. “Listen, Elise, who cares what everyone else thinks about you? Everybody here’s stupid, I’m pretty sure at least 3 of these assholes rode to school on a tractor for the hell of it”

Elise curled in on herself tighter, “I care...”

Otis sighed and simply just held her close, “I’m sorry you feel like this, Elise. If it makes you feel any better, I still think you’re really pretty”

Elise sniffled and wiped her eye, “Y-you really think so?”

“I know so,” he reassured with a firm nod.

Robin stepped in, “yeah! You’re prettier than half of the girls at school. So what your body looks a little different? You’ve just got boobs and curves now, big deal!!”

Otis stared at Robin for a good second. Robin stared back. Elise patted her chest before the pulled on the drawstrings of her hoodie.

“Why are you like that?” Elise asked as she tried to back into her locker.

Robin shrugged, “I dunno, somebody had to point it out”

Otis covered his face as he quickly grabbed his backpack off of the ground.

“Okay, well, I-I’m going to class, see ya”

Elise grabbed her books, heading off into the opposite direction, and Robin followed close.

“Otis was blushing, you saw that, right?” Robin asked.

Elise rolled her eyes, “maybe because you said boobs out loud in the hallway in front of everybody”

“And? What’s the big deal?”

“You’re gay,” Elise simply stated, entering their first class.

“I’m what?” Robin asked blankly, but Elise didn’t respond.

Elise remained quiet for a majority of her classes. She was lucky to avoid being called on during all of them, and now the school day was nearing it’s end with only 2 classes left in the day; P.E and math.

To be honest, Elise wasn’t excited about either class. She hadn’t spoken to Sean since Thanksgiving (and, well, you all remember what a disaster that turned out to be), and she avoided Cody over winter break due to her stress gain.

But it wasn’t like she could avoid either of them forever; either one of them would likely ask her how her break was, and she wasn’t excited to explain “oh boy, I ate my heart out out of stress all winter break!”

As she put on her P.E uniform in the locker room, she kept thinking up excuses on how she could get out of it entirely. Was it too late to fake being sick? Maybe she could make herself throw up somehow, then they’d have to send her home!

Of course, as she’s getting run to run to the bathroom, the whistle blows, and her uncle is waiting riiiight by the Gym entrance. Isn’t that just perfect?

Elise sighed as she tugged on her gym shirt, hoping to stretch it out a little more to not cling onto her new shape. Robin had a point about the curves, and she wasn’t sure if she exactly liked them.

Stepping out of the locker room, kids were already getting lined up for their activity. Sean had already gotten to explaining what was happening, as he was clearly excited for winter break to have ended.

The man was lonely; never married, never had kids of his own. His job was really all he had in regards to something to look forward to at the start of the day. And he took his job very seriously, albeit, in a fun manner.

Hoping she wouldn’t be noticed, Elise stuck to the back of the group of a majority of the class. To her surprise, it worked... For the most part...

As she was getting ready to enter the locker room, Sean called her off to the side of class, right by the bleachers.

“Hey, kiddo, how’ve you been? I haven’t seen you since last year!” He asked with a chuckle. So lame.

Elise looked off to the side, “u-um, I’ve been... good... I guess?”

He nodded, “yeah, I can see. I’m guessing you had a lot of fun over winter break, eh?”

“Uh, I-I guess so, yeah. Why do you ask?”

She knew what was coming. Oh she just knew what he was going to say before he even got to say it.

“Eh, I just kind of noticed you packed on a few pounds over winter break, is all. I figured I’d let you know that I have an after school workout here in the gym, and the school has all sorts of after school activities like track, weight lifting-”

Oh god, she was right. She was absolutely right. She was fat, he made a point to remind her that she was fat. She’s fat and he thinks she looks ugly, everyone thinks she looks ugly.

She used all of her effort not to cry, and she just nodded rapidly with each word he spoke to try and end the conversation as soon as she could.

“I-I’m sorry, uncle Sean, but I’m going to have to go get changed now so I’m not late for math. S-see you later!” She announced as she sprinted to the girl’s locker room.

Quickly yanking off her gym uniform, she tried her best not to break down then and there.

She felt so ugly, she felt so disgusting. She looked different, and everyone hated it, just like she did.

She pulled on her hoodie tightly, hiding herself once again within the dark fabric.

Maybe she could talk to Cody about the entire situation? Get him to speak with him about how she wasn’t interested in joining any after school activities, because like hell was she going to tell him face to face.

Yeah, talk to Cody. He’d understand, he’d totally understand.

It’s just as simple as getting into class and telling him after class.

It’d be easy. Really, really...

...Easy...

But it wouldn’t be easy, as it turns out. 

Because Cody wasn’t in the teacher’s desk.

#stress eating tw #body shaming tw #bullying tw #self hatred tw #body image issues tw #vomit m #throw up m #queenie draws #drabble

[theangriestpea]

In the Shadows : Twelve

Summary: Jughead Jones, resident werewolf, just wants to protect his family and his pack from the incoming doom of The Red Circle. Sweet Pea and Lily join him to help keep the Southside safe from human tyranny. Meanwhile a demon princess named Myra and succubus named Lavender had a plan to bring on the apocalypse. <ao3> <masterlist> <playlist>

Rating: Mature // Explicit

Pairings: Jughead Jones x OC, Sweet Pea x OC, Kurtz x OC

Warnings:  Very minor character death, kidnapping??, mentions of forced prostitution/sex slavery

Word Count: 5k+

A/N:  This took SO LONG for me to write. i was just very stuck for the longest time. But now I think I've got some good ideas for the future of this fic! I will likely be updating this series once a month from here on out as I am going back to work and will not have as much time to write. Apologies for that in advance! I wrote so much during the last three months though that the break will be a little nice.

Chapter Twelve : The Descent

“I’m not going to let it happen, Shanna.” Sweet Pea said as him and his soulmate argued for the dozenth time. Lavender was convinced that he’d keep his loyalty with his coven and not with her. That he’d willingly give up their child to honor the deal that Lily had made.

Sweet Pea had no intention of doing anything of the sort. While, yes, he had once aligned himself fiercely with Lily and that witches were more powerful together, she had spurned him too greatly this time. He loved Daisy with every fiber of his being and he fully intended on loving his second daughter with the exact same ferocity. As of now there was no one who he was more devoted to than the hybrid, but he was getting increasingly aggravated by her insinuation that he wasn’t.

Lavender was quiet, hand on her stomach as she continued to fear the worse. She trusted Sweet Pea, of course she did, however there was just this nagging feeling in the back of her mind that he was going to betray her. That she needed to get out while she could. That keeping herself rooted in Riverdale was a grave mistake especially now that The Red Circle had put a target on her back.

Feeding was becoming more and more dangerous. While she could disguise her identity with ease, disposing of bodies without the help of the Jones pack was becoming difficult. Before she never spent enough time in one place to really bother with the cover-up. She hadn’t realized when she decided to stay that life would keep throwing curve-balls. Her only saving grace was that Riverdale was the murder capital of the world. People died all the time under suspicious circumstances. Unfortunately the supernatural were the ones always blamed for the inexplicable deaths.

The more she showed, the more difficult it would be. She could only alter herself, she couldn’t alter the child within her. Whatever form she took would be showing just as much as she was, and while at eight weeks that wasn’t much it wouldn’t stay that way for much longer.

Sweet Pea parted the blinds with his fingers to peer outside. He had been expecting Lily and Jughead to show up all day. That night there would be a full moon. In order to keep the pack safe, they would need both Sweet Pea and Lavender to cast a spell strong enough to cover the entire. Lily was stronger now, sure, but not strong enough yet to do it all on her own.

Lavender was not on the side of helping. She thought the forest should just burn. Along with everyone else inside of it. Sweet Pea, on the other hand, feared for the safety of his first born. While he knew that Lily would protect her with her life, he still didn’t like the idea of her life being in danger in the first place.

And though Lavender adored Daisy and didn’t want any harm to come to her, she was fiercely upset with Lily too much at the moment to even want to see her face. Sweet Pea was missing his daughter more now than ever. He hadn’t seen her since the pact because Lily had taken her and they currently weren’t on speaking terms. He knew he’d have to break down eventually and call her or else risk ruining the relationship he had with Daisy.

“She threw our child away, Pea, why do we need to help her protect the forest?” Lavender asked, becoming increasingly frustrated with him. “I just don’t understand why you still want to cater to someone who was going to just give away your child.”

“It’s deeper than that, and you know it.” Sweet Pea said, his own aggravation starting to show. “They’ll come here too. They may take you next time instead of Lily.”

The demoness frowned. “You know that Myra would not let any harm come with this child. Not when she is so important to her.” Lav responded. “If they did take me, then they wouldn’t kill me. They’d let me live out the rest of my pregnancy at least.”

“And then what?” He snapped back, “They take her and kill you when you’re weak from giving birth? Then I lose both of you.” He wish she could understand how her carelessness was hurting him just as much as Lily’s stupid pact did.

Lav was quiet. She hadn’t quite thought that far ahead. Him being right for once did not make her feel any better about what he was asking of her. “Then we run away. We go somewhere else entirely.”

“And leave Daisy?” Sweet Pea asked, his tone turning harsh. “I’m not going to do that, she’s my daughter.”

She let out a frustrated sigh, clearly nothing she was going to come up with was going to satisfy him. The only path he saw was helping Lily which Lavender absolutely was not going to do. “Then you help her, Sweet Pea. You two can do it by yourselves. I need to go feed anyway.” She got up and went into their bedroom to get ready to go out as the witch fumed with fury in the living room still. He grabbed his keys and went to take his bike to the cottage.

When he arrived at his old home, he noticed the wind seemed to be picking up already. He figured Lily was working on conjuring another storm. Rain allowed for the hardiest of protection spells. It was easier to transmute magic through water rather than through air. The polar properties made it the best particularly for barrier spells. It would rain again tonight, he was sure of it.

He didn’t knock, just entered through the door and slammed it behind him. “Daddy!” He heard his little girl squeal as she ran to greet him, clinging to his leg tightly. He couldn’t help the soft smile that spread across his features as he bent down to pick her up.

Jughead approached him cautiously. “I wasn’t sure if you’d come.” He murmured, not wanting to feel the witch’s wrath. It was harder to contain his own visceral emotions so close to the full moon. “She’s already set up.”

Sweet Pea nodded his head silently as he walked into the living room. He saw there were places set for three. “She’s not coming.” He said as Daisy babbled on in his arms in some unknown language.

A hurt look crossed Lily’s face. She had hoped to try and patch things up with her friend, maybe make some kind of peace offering. However, she should have known better. If someone had bartered with Daisy, then she’d be on a warpath too. What she did was unfair, but she had been backed into a corner. What was she supposed to do? Really?

“I’m sorry,” She said softly, not sure what else to really say. Her best friend wouldn’t even look at her. He simply stared at the middle of the sigil on the floor. Sweet Pea knew he’d have to forgive her eventually, for Daisy’s sake, but right now he just wasn’t ready to take that step.

“I know.” Was all he said back, unable to articulate through his anger towards not only Lily but also towards Lavender. She was acting so selfishly but he could not get through to her no matter what. She was hell bent on doing things her own way, including how she gathered souls. He found spell work he could do to make something close to what Myra had made. It wouldn’t be as powerful and he wouldn’t use innocent souls, but it would be better than her risking her life going out every night.

She couldn’t give up the hunt. Not yet, it seemed. She was determined to do it without help, saying that it would be a waste of his magic. That he needed to reserve it in case of an attack. His reserves were filled to the brim now that they were together, now that their souls were together. He didn’t need to save anything when all he needed to refill them was to fuck her.

But she insisted over and over that Myra wouldn’t let anything happen to her. That Myra would protect her. That she didn’t have to worry. But where the hell was Myra when she was stabbed? When she almost died before Lily could save her? If she was so great, then why did they bother releasing her soul in the first place?!

Sweet Pea set Daisy down as he got into place, taking a seat on a small cushion. It was going to be a long night.

Lavender was on the Northside, looking like a pretty little redhead with nowhere to go. She walked into a bar and ordered a virgin drink, something that looked as though it could pass for alcoholic. The hungrier she was, the less control she had over her influence. The bar seemed to be flooded with men. Men that all seemed to want a piece of her .

They offered to buy her drinks, offered phone numbers and pick-up lines. However, none seemed to quite suit her fancy. At least, no single one. She needed more tonight. One soul just simply wouldn’t do. She was growing a child, after all.

She settled on two men that were somehow linked with The Red Circle. One would only call himself Moose and the other was a rather smooth talking fuck-boy named Chuck. While neither were really her type, jocks, she figured that beggars simply couldn’t be choosers.

They took her to a nearby pay-per-hour motel where Chuck graciously paid for a room. For once in her life, Lavender had no desire to have sex. Whether it was from the sadness of losing her friend or the intense love she felt for Sweet Pea, she wasn’t sure. The only thing that kept pressing her forward was the simple demonic drive to feed. Maybe she should have let Sweet Pea try that spell after all...Maybe she could be at home with a cup of tea in bed instead of in this bug infested room.

But the stars and moon were just right tonight, Lav could feel it perfectly in her soul. She wouldn’t need to bed these two. She could force out their souls through sheer will, and while that wasn’t nearly as fun it was just as effective.

Lavender smiled at the two, grabbing each by the wrist before letting her eyes fade to black. They two instantly attempted to pull from her, but were unable to break free from her grip. Lavender reached out with her energy and forcibly yanked their souls away from their mortal tether, taking them into herself through their skin-to-skin contact.

While the two did not die from the soul removal, they did fall unconscious from the force of it. Lavender pondered whether or not to kill them. True, they were outlying members of The Red Circle, however they were in no positions of power. Though, she figured two less meatheads to carry torches and pitchforks would be better overall.

She slipped a pocket knife out from the inside of her purse and slid it open. In a quick, sweeping motion, she slit the throats of both men before painting a message on the nicotine stained wall. If Archie Andrews wanted a war. Then he’d have a war.

As she left the motel, having carefully cleaned her hands of blood, she noticed that the air seemed...different. There was a kind of static electricity about it that she couldn’t quite pinpoint. True, she knew the witches would conjure a storm to protect the southside with, however she was north of the tracks. It shouldn’t be able to reach this far. There would be no reason for her to sense magical energy on the Northside. Not when magic was strictly prohibited here.

She knew she needed to get home fast. While she had taken a new face, somehow Archie had seen through her last time. If she ran into him then he may be able to do it again. While she was sure Myra would somehow keep the minimum protections around the child, that didn’t stop her from letting the human stab her the other week.

The demon princess needed the apocalypse to happen, and for that she needed Lavender. In theory she could always have another child if she were to lose this one (Satan forbid), she herself could not be replaced. And hybrids weren’t a common occurrence.

Lavender just had the sinking feeling that she wasn’t as safe as she thought she was. It suddenly occurred to her that there was nothing stopping Myra from just taking what she wanted. Whisking her off to hell and forcing her to sit alone in a cell, force fed innocent souls, until she gave birth. It wasn’t as if anyone could rescue her there. Taking a physical being out of the realm that was the underworld was virtually impossible for anyone besides a high ranking demon.

The intensity of the air intensified and Lavender felt her senses go into overdrive. Every small change of environment was making her jump. As she attempted to make her way back to her home, she noticed that the atmosphere seemed to get more and more dense. It was becoming harder to breathe and storm clouds completely blocked out the setting sun.

Crackles of energy were starting to surround her, tiny flecks of light that acted as a window into another dimension. A dimension that only her soul seemed to recognize. She fought to avoid them. No one else around her seemed to even see it. The rifts became more and more prominent until the fabric of reality appeared to tear right before her eyes and static overwhelmed her, shooting through her body while she was plunged into darkness.

Everything went cold and black. She couldn’t even see her breath condense in front of her face as every source of light disappeared until a small blue flame budded and blossomed to her left. Once it was bright enough, her eyes adjusted and Lavender found herself in a freezing jail cell with solid metal walls.

An illusion? Lavender wondered to herself as she dared to touch the seamless wall that the torch appeared to be attached to. It didn’t feel like magic. It felt familiar somehow in some way. Something was chilling about this place. Not just the lower temperature but just the heaviness that seemed around it.

“Welcome home, Shoshanna.”

Miles away, deep within Fox Forrest, Sweet Pea’s concentration suddenly broke as he felt something ethereal being ripped away from him. The air was knocked from his chest as the knowledge of what this feeling meant swept over him.

A cry erupted from him as he stood, unable to stop the tears that flooded his eyes and spilled down his cheeks. She was gone. Completely and totally gone. Their bond was completely broken and he no longer felt any connection to the love of his life.

Lily could feel a fraction of his pain as terror struck her deeply. She gasped for air, wishing that Jughead were here to help them. Sweet Pea’s pain was so incredible that his magical energy totally stunted. The spell was broken and the forest was no longer a safe haven.

“Sweet Pea!” She yelped, attempting to bring him out of whatever personal hell he had been sent into at the sudden loss of his mate. “We have to protect the forest! For Daisy!” She cried, trying to get through to him in some way.

But all Sweet Pea could think about was his unborn daughter. The little girl that never even made it out. She was gone just as Lavender was and his fractioning mind couldn’t think of a way to bring either of them out. The worst came over him, the sheer dread that they were dead. If he could find them, maybe he could resurrect them. Maybe he could give his soul for him. Maybe-

Lily attempted to regain her strength as she invoked the spell one more time. To cover the entire forest, she had to spread herself incredibly thin. It wasn’t nearly as strong as she needed it to be, but it was something. She needed him more than ever but there was a phenomenon that deeply depressed witches lost their connection to their magic. It was possible that he couldn’t help her.

Rage filled the witch as he punched anything that got into his way, trashing the living room as Lily continued to work. He screamed to his patrons, begging for them to bring her back or to take him instead. Anything to not feel the way he was currently feeling.

Daisy hid under her bed, afraid of the tornado that was currently her father. She whimpered as she curled tightly into a ball, trying her best to make herself invisible so as to not be hurt even by accident.

Lily was pulled between trying to calm the bull and trying to save the forest. Unfortunately her loyalty laid fully with her daughter as she dropped what she was doing. She sprung up from her place on the floor and grabbed Sweet Pea by the arm, forcing her white magic into him in an attempt to calm him.

His incoherent screaming ceased as she brought him back to reality. The reality that was just too painful for him to bear in the moment. “She wouldn’t kill her,” Lily said in an attempt to lessen his pain. “She’s not dead, you know that. She’s just hidden somewhere from us.”

He furiously wiped his tears and snot away, not wanting anyone to see him in such a disastrous state. “I shouldn’t have let her go alone.” He said through heavy puffs of air. “I should have followed after her like I always do. Or make her come here. Oh god, why didn’t I-”

“Pea,” Lily said, forcing more magic into him. “You were trying to protect Daisy and me, it’ll be okay. We’ll get her back as soon as we can locate her, okay? Myra needs that baby more than anything in the entire world and the only one that can bring it to term is Lavender. She would get nothing if she killed her.”

Sweet Pea stared at her, “what if she thinks I chose you over her?” He asked, beginning to feel numb from his loss. “She will hate me.”

“She will not think that.” Lily consoled. “She will know that you needed to protect Daisy. I’m sure she’s more worried about getting out of whatever situation she’s in. If anything this is my fault for offering her up on a silver platter to begin with.”

He was silent, unable to counter that. He did still blame Lily for making the agreement she had made, however none of them could have expected for this to be the outcome. Lily returned to her spot, determined to try and still protect the pack with what energy she had left while Sweet Pea went to fetch Daisy to make sure she knew everything would be alright.

“Lavie?” She whimpered as he pulled her out from under the bed. His heart felt as though it had fallen deep down inside of his chest. All he could do was hold Daisy close as he tried his best not to cry again.

Three days passed on the mortal realm, and with each one Sweet Pea became more and more weary. He didn’t eat, he barely slept, and most of his time was spent hunched over a desk, speed reading through magical manuscripts on how to look through a magical veil. How to locate someone who had been hidden from all normal sights. He was tempted, so tempted to offer his soul back to Asmodeus for the return of his soulmate. The only thing stopping him was Lily’s reminder of how much he had hurt both of them during the time he was soulless. He couldn’t expect her to stay with him if he abused her any more than he already had.

It was late afternoon when Lily called him with somewhat good news. She had managed to locate the hybrid in a deep part of Hell. However, pulling a physical being out of one realm and placing them into another took a lot of magic. A lot of black magic that Sweet Pea just didn’t have.

And that is where Jughead Jones came in. There was a member of the pack that needed to be taken care of. Punishment for something terrible that he had done. While pure souls were more sought after, typically any old one would do in a pinch. If they offered one life for another, then a trade could be made with a demon other than Myra. It would give them enough leverage to get into Hell and get Lavender out.

But who to call upon was the problem. The decision was left to Sweet Pea. While in the past he had obviously catered to Asmodeus, another prince could be called upon to enact a trade. Sweet Pea had chosen Asmodeus as he used sex magic to fulfill his needs. Invoking the demon of lust to give him power through his sexual conquests. It was only fitting for him to have taken Sweet Pea’s soul through the very thing he used to gain power.

But Myra was his daughter. And she was acting on his will. Asmodeus wanted Lavender in his clutches (she was a sex demon after all, the epitome of a lust-filled being) just as much if not more than the blonde princess.

He would need someone of equal power that would take a soul of any condition. As he drove to the cottage, he knew who it had to be. He would offer this rogue wolf to Prince Mammon, the embodiment of greed.

He parked his bike out front before going inside. This was perhaps the most dangerous thing he had ever done in terms of magic. The need to see his lover again somehow overpowered the incredible amount of anxiety he felt. He walked in, seeing a tall and bulky man tied to one of the wooden kitchen chairs. Lily must have cast a silencing spell on him, as his lips were moving furiously but no sound was coming out.

Sweet Pea wore a dark expression on his face as he slipped off his leather jacket before pulling off his flannel shirt and white tank top. Lily picked up a jar of paint that had been colored black with mountain ash. She began to paint different runes across his torso, embedding her protective white magic into the symbols to help keep him safe when he went into hell.

“Who did you decide to call upon?” She asked, her voice a low whisper as if the question itself was forbidden. Sweet Pea had done plenty of idiotic things when it came to magic, but this was an entirely new level. She feared for his safety more than Lavender. Even a half-demon could survive hell. A human, witch or otherwise, could not. He’d need to be swift.

“Mammon.” Sweet Pea replied gruffly, knowing she would not like that answer. Lily stiffened, her touch slackening against his pectoral. Green eyes stared up at him, full of worry and doubt. If he didn’t know any better then he would have thought he saw love in there too. Jughead also seemed to notice and let out a small, feral growl in return.

Lily glanced at her mate before shaking her head. She really didn’t need him being possessive at a time like this. “There, it’s done.” She said, choosing not to comment on what she felt was a bad choice in demons. Not that there were any good ones they could call upon. She placed an old brass compass in his hand. “This will lead you to her. If you lose focus, then so will the needle. Your soul should be able to sense her once you’re there. You won’t have much time so you’ll need to hurry.”

She paused, looking back up at him as her hands trembled. “Pea, he’s going to ask for more. You know that, right? One wolf will not be enough. You do this once, he will want you to do it again and again.”

His expression steeled, “I’ll give him whatever the fuck he wants if it gets me Shanna and our daughter back.”

“And if he wants the apocalypse?” She dared to ask.

“Then the world as we know it will burn.” He replied, completely stoic.  

Lily heaved a heavy sigh. The whole point of this was to stop the world from ending, but she couldn’t deny him this. She couldn’t stand to see him spiral downward anymore. This had to be done regardless of consequences.

They took each other’s hands, closing their eyes as Sweet Pea began to chant. He called for Mammon, told him to take this wolf as sacrifice to do as he pleased, and in return to open a gateway to hell.

The cottage shook as Jughead held Daisy protectively in his arms. His hair stood on end as the air pressure within the room started to increase. There was an infernal pop along with a gusting of air that came with the flapping of wings.

The witches opened their eyes to see a tall man with shaggy beard and hair. His eyes were clouded as if he were blind, however both witches knew fully well that he could see just fine. His black feathered wings pulled in close to his body, partially shielding him as he observed the scene in front of him. The tarnished crown on his head was lopsided as if it had been placed there without care. The only thing glittering on it were the rare gemstones fastened within the blackened metal.

He peered upon them with his glossy eyes. “My, my, if it isn’t Asmodeus’ little headaches.” He said, clearly amused by the two mortals that had been giving his brother such a hard time. “Offering me just one puny soul for the entrance to hell? Do you not know how to temp the god of greed?”

“I will give you whatever you desire, Mammon.” Sweet Pea spoke distinctly. The only defensive power he had over the demon was the knowledge of his name. “I must get her back.”

“The little succubus.” He mused out loud, “pretty little thing. Apparently, my brother plans to pimp her out after she’s brought about the end of times. Something about demons loving a mortal that can take their damned cocks.” He waved his hand around as he spoke, as if he were conjuring his words with the motions. “I have to admit, I am a little jealous. How much more rich he could become using her.”

Sweet Pea sneered. “Well, he can’t have her. I’ll make sure of that.”

Mammon gave him an amused look, sizing him up as if he were nothing but a fragile puppy. “It is always sad when the faithful lose faith, isn’t it?” He probed. “Once so devoted to Asmodeus and now here you are, at my feet, begging for my help to strong arm my brother into giving you back your love. It would be amusing if it weren’t so damn tragic.”

Lily had a sinking feeling in her stomach. Their offering wasn’t nearly enough to appease him. It was all that they could manage. Why in hell’s name did he choose the demon on greed? She wished she could stop this, however she knew that it was too late. Mammon would not leave without taking his fill.

“Are you going to help or not?” Sweet Pea asked, a fire raging in his eyes as his hands clenched tightly over Lily’s making her wince in pain. “Or should I call someone else?”

“Oh no, dark witch. I will help. You see, I want what Asmodeus has. In fact, I want it all . And you can help me, small mortal. I’ll find a use for you, I’m sure. Give me time to think. I will take this soul and body back to hell with me, and when I leave the doorway open you may slip in to get that delicacy of a soulmate of yours. You will have one hour to return. One Earth hour. If you’re not back by then, then the gate will close.”

“Is that all?” Sweet Pea asked, knowing that demons tended to slip in unnecessary bullshit with their contracts. He knew he was being asked for more than what he was already giving. He wasn’t that dense.

“Be ready when I call on you, dark witch.” Mammon said. “I can see a great destiny with you if you were to indeed stop the impending doom of the mortal realm’s destruction. I can teach you so much more than what you’ll find in your little books. Give me time. I’ll ring when I’m ready to take you on.”

Naturally it didn’t sit well with Sweet Pea that he was being asked to give something so vague as his loyalty and devotion. It wasn’t something tangible and that could be tricky. Still, it was better the possible alternative of giving his unborn child to him. This was what he thought to be a best case scenario. Sweet Pea nodded, his mouth suddenly dry as if he had been sucking on a mouthful of cotton.

A pleased and cruel smile twisted upon Mammon’s dark features as he used a blackened claw to tear open the fabric of reality, much as Myra had done on the night of the moon. “One mortal hour.” He reminded, voice echoing with a sinister tone as he stepped into the void, wings flexing behind him to fit through the narrow pathway into hell.

Sweet Pea released Lily’s hands. He grabbed the compass and a pocket watch. He started towards the sparking entryway.

“Pea,” Lily called out to him, her voice wavering. He turned his head to the side to look at her from the corner of his eye. “Be safe.” She murmured, “and hurry .”

Tag List: @the-gargoyle-queen​, @lilhemmo​, @wayward-river​, @southside-vixen, @princesweetpea​, @redhairdontcare732​  (comment/ask/message if you want to be added or subscribe to AO3)

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#sweet pea #jughead jones #sweet pea x oc #jughead jones x oc #sweet pea imagine #jughead jones imagine #sweet pea fanfic #jughead jones fanfic #sweet pea fanfiction #jughead jones fanfiction #riverdale #in the shadows #riverdale fanfic #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale imagine #riverdale au #riverdale oc #swavie #lughead #lavender rhodes #lily owens #myra vaughn #updates #update

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Pigments

Art Teacher Molly! Based on a set of head canons I posted a little while ago

Please consider reblogging or leaving a comment on Ao3!

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Caleb’s school had been a handful of rooms in the town hall building. He and the other children of the village had been roughly divided into two groups by age and taken by either the town’s only cleric, a dwarven priestess of Erathis who’d been sent to Blumenthal years ago to establish a strong faith amongst those people of the earth and had remained despite the local’s pleasant indifference, or the herbalist whenever she left the store with her nephew. Caleb would complete every task set for him within ten minutes and, instead, would be allowed to sit in the corner and read while the other children staggered their way through multiplication and verbs and basic Dwarvish. He read everything that could be found within the building, even staying in during playtime. The herbalist would share her tea with him and bring him scones when she could see that his parents were having a rough month.

Even as everything between who Caleb was now and that small child with unruly red curls and hollow cheeks and big eyes, even as all of it cracked and broke and rotted away for a number of reasons, it wouldn’t take much to bring him back to that little room. The dust motes dancing through the sunlight slanding in through the windows and falling on the blackboard with lines and lines of loopy handwriting that was clearly made to draw intricate sketches of plants and write labels on bottles of strange green liquids. The taste of flour and sugar baked together on his tongue, heavy with cherries, nettle tea, the taste of reassurance that maybe his stomach wouldn’t ache so bad when he went to bed that night, that maybe his mother’s heart wouldn’t break quite so much when she saw him. The promise of new words, so many it felt like he could barely hold them all in his mind, but he’d still always want more. Feeling like maybe one day he would be somewhere that would appreciate him for everything he knew.

It didn’t take much to send Caleb back there, to remind him of his days at school. Any little similarity would do it. But standing here, in an actual school, all he could think was how different it was from his own.

Molly’s hand hadn’t left his own since they’d gotten into the taxi. Caleb thought that meant the date was going well. The thought gave him a happy warmth in the bottom of his stomach, though he was very aware of his own inexperience. He wouldn’t really know if it was going well one way or the other, he had next to no data to fall back on.

But there was something in the way Molly kept stealing glances at him, leaving Caleb to just catch the slightest edge of his glance, the way there would always be a smile on his face whenever it happened. Almost as if just the sight of Caleb still sat beside him was enough to make Molly smile.

The hallways were left by the wide windows to alternate strangely between pitch black and wonky squares of yellow streetlight. The only noises were their own footsteps and the muted rumble of cars and voices outside. Of course, at nearly midnight, there was absolutely no one in the school.

“Are you sure we’re allowed to be here so late?” Caleb finally asked, his voice reverberating off tiles in shadow that he couldn’t even see.

Molly turned a little from where he was determinedly leading the way through the corridors and up the silent stairs, “Of course.” His hand, the one that wasn’t entwined with Caleb’s, reached into his shoulder bag and flashed a red lanyard with a faded, blurry picture of a far younger purple tiefling, “I’m staff. And you’re my guest.”

If he couldn’t see the staff badge for himself, Caleb wouldn’t have been able to believe that the loud, extravagant, naturally hedonistic singer he’d been dating for a month now was a teacher by day. The idea of Molly being an authority figure was like trying to imagine a fish climbing a tree or a shark swimming backwards. Something just wasn’t right about it.

But there was his name on the door they were approaching, Mr Tealeaf, neatly typed out in large, rounded letters surrounded by childish cartoons of paint brushes and easels, clearly added by whoever had made the sign in an attempt to make it brighter. But the stickers that had been placed around it with a heavy, generous hand and the graffiti style doodles done in loud, colourful marker were undoubtedly the work of Molly himself.

“Also I leave stuff in my classroom all the time,” Molly added, a little bashfully, “They gave me a key after the one time they found me trying to climb through the window. Someone called the police.”

Caleb had to smile at the mental image, “What did you forget that time?”

Molly suddenly seemed very interested in his keys as he put them in the door, “Uh, my phone.”

Caleb’s smile grew, “The same thing we’re having to come back here to get right this moment?”

Molly turned and poked him in the chest with a finger tipped by a long, deep red nail, playfully challenging, “What’s your point, Widogast?”

“Nothing at all,” Caleb showed his palms, his grin not fading at all.

Molly flicked his tail at him and disappeared into the classroom, “I wouldn’t bother but it’s got the cinema tickets on my email…”

Caleb nodded along, more absorbed in looking around. Even with the light off, the small space was a riot of muted colour, there wasn’t an inch of the walls that wasn’t covered in an art piece of some description. One was groaning under what looked like three classes worth of crookedly sewn embroidered patches, one dripped with just as many watercolours, one had bunting haphazardly strung up that boughed under a store’s worth of bead bracelets and paper flower garlands. Even things that couldn’t be pinned up found their place; the long banks of sinks that circled the room like a moat had sculptures standing sentinel, frozen in the act of listing slightly to the left or right.

Where there wasn’t displays of work there were boards on different artists and movements, one about Frida Kahlo backed by loud, patterned fabric, one about Van Gough set against a recreation of Starry Night done with twists of blue silk. The others were people Caleb had never heard of but he was sure he’d know everything he needed to after reading all of the carefully typed out squares of information.

Though the colour could only slightly be seen with the lack of light, Caleb could practically smell it. The scent of charcoal and pigment and fresh paper was on nearly everything, buoyed by strong coffee and sugary tea. Less pleasant was the slightest smell of stagnant water, probably left in paint trays and clinging to brushes, though it was mild enough that Caleb didn’t mind.

Molly went straight to his desk while Caleb was still staring, digging around in drawers that looked like they were overflowing until he came up with his phone, “There you are, you bastard. Yasha said she was going to super glue it to my hand if I left it at work again, let’s hope she’s forgotten that...”

Caleb made a soft noise of affirmation, ninety nine percent of his attention still on the room around him.

Molly gave a soft chuckle, “Do you like it? I know it weirds some people out, they can’t imagine me actually doing this as a job.”

Caleb’s eyes flickered over to Molly, managing to pull himself out of a sudden hyperfixation on L. S. Lowry. He allowed himself a long moment just to look at him, standing there in the half light. Though all they’d been planning to do was go to the pictures and get a few drinks afterwards, he was dressed as extravagantly as ever. Enough piercings to make his ears droop a little, a shirt made of nothing but glittering mesh patterned with stars over a tight vest and leather pants tucked into boots that went up to his knees. Not much on display but everything hinted at, his tattoos vibrant even in shadow. He looked as far away from a teacher as anyone could imagine.

But Caleb could see touches of him everywhere in the room they stood in. He saw him in the messiness of the desk but how he clearly knew where everything was regardless. He saw his guiding hand in every single work of art on the wall, he saw him in the gushing praise scribbled in red pen on the front of the pile of test papers near his computer. He saw him in the tin of biscuits right by his elbow, ready to be brought out at a moment’s notice for a child who was having a hard day or who’d achieved something after trying so hard.

Or a child who maybe hadn’t had any breakfast that day.

Caleb felt his lower lip wobble dangerously for a moment but he quickly brought it under control, managing to smile, “I don’t think it’s weird. I can’t imagine a job more perfect for you.”

Molly beamed at that, some pride warming his eyes now as he gently touched a piece of paper lying on his desk, a pencil drawing done in bright colours that was clearly meant to be himself done by a child that had clearly just been introduced to Cubism.

“Well,” he was even blushing a little, around the edges, “I do enjoy it. And that is about the nicest thing anyone’s said to me about my job.”

“Well, it’s true,” Caleb leaned against one of the tables, one hand awkwardly seizing his arm, though the smile on his face was undeniable, spreading across his face the more Molly kept looking at him like that.

Molly twirled his tail between his fingers. Was Caleb thinking wishfully or did he always do that when he was feeling charmed? His eyes roved over his desk, looking like he was trying to decide whether something was a good idea or whether it would come off as dorky.

“I...I have something for you,” he eventually grinned, eyes flickering up to Caleb, “Call it a prize for coming on this rescue mission with me.”

“Oh?” Caleb leaned forward slightly, hoping it might be a kiss.

Molly swept up, ringing slightly as he went with all his adornments, “My students were learning about mosaic and glass work? So we did a little jewellery making and seeing how I have to demo everything, I ended up with this…”

Caleb suddenly found something small and smooth in his hand. He looked to see a bracelet, a simple loop of black string with rounded, oblong beads in alternating sea green and vibrant blue.

“They’ll really bring out the colours of your eyes,” Molly murmured hopefully, “They always remind me of the sea so I guess I must subconsciously have been...thinking of you? While I made it? I must have always meant to give you it, even before I realised it.”

Caleb’s mouth opened, hoping words adequate to express just how much the gift meant to him would just come pouring out. Of course they didn’t, he was just left stammering until he stopped himself and just looked Molly in the eye as he slipped the bracelet over his skinny wrist.

“I love it, Molly. Thank you.”

Judging by Molly’s face, Caleb’s eyes must have said what his words couldn’t. That was when he got his kiss, sweet and gentle, coloured in moonlight.

And the bracelet would stay on his wrist all night. And the many dates they’d have after their slightly delayed trip to the cinema.

And the years they’d have together after that.

#modern au #art teacher molly #mollymauk tealeaf #caleb widogast #widomauk

[drrrsecretsanta2019]

Holiday Kiss, my secret santa gift for Bree

Tucked away in a dark spot between two kiosks, Shizuo checks the notes and coins in his hand trying to figure out how many rides they can get him into. He’s left most of the money his mother gave him earlier this afternoon with his little brother; it seemed only fair given that he had gone to the fair with the intention of abandoning him. Kasuka will be fine, he knows, and that reassuring thought keeps him from feeling too guilty about intentionally lagging behind until the rest of the company, composed of his little brother and their cousins, had lost him completely. The chances are they will only look for him when their time of departure approaches. Kasuka is bright enough to guess that his older brother has disappeared on purpose and their cousins are unlikely to lament the loss of his company, except perhaps when an opportunity to mock him comes up and he’s nowhere to be seen, depriving them of the vicious pleasure of watching him seethe, unable to do anything to vent his frustration. Despite him thinking that he is entirely incapable of self-control, Shizuo has proven to his mother on countless occasions that he can restrain himself in order to not embarrass her or hurt her feelings. She has never told her son, but she often wishes the world was more understanding, less cruel towards her sweet older boy who can be the most loving young man if given the opportunity but can just as easily explode in rage if faced with injustice. What she has told him is that people are often cruel by defense, to hide their insecurities, and that deep down everyone is flawed and scared, and he tries his best to always remember it.

He’s still struggling with the simple maths of how many rides the amount in his possession translates into when he catches a voice that has adrenaline coursing through his veins and drowning away any hints of coherency. He snaps his head to the direction of said voice, already seeing red, but stumbles upon confusion as he’s faced with a rather unexpected image and it’s only then that he registers the words he’s hearing.

“Now, you will both stay close – no running away on a whim, Mairu! If you’re not holding my hand, I want you to be maximum two steps ahead of me.”

“Izaya-kun?”

This is perhaps the calmest he has ever sounded with that name on his tongue. Izaya must recognize his voice just as easily, because he freezes immediately, going completely still for a moment as he’s hunched over. Then he whips around to face Shizuo while simultaneously stretching his hands out a bit on his sides, as if to protect the small figures behind him from the beast before them.

“Sh-shizu-chan?” he stutters, his face a pale white devoid of any emotion other than apprehension. “I am here with my sisters” he adds quickly, clearly in an attempt to deter Shizuo from causing a scene and oblivious to the fact that Shizuo himself has no such intention.

“I can see that”, he says instead, a bright smile on his face as he sends a friendly nod to the two faces obscured be Izaya’s outstretched arms. “Hello” he adds as he ducks to get a better look. The girls peer at the stranger behind the barrier of their brother, gazes inquisitive and perceptive, one closed-off and the other mischievous. It’s the mischievous one who steps forward first, ignoring her brother’s attempt to keep her hidden by shifting his weight.

“Are you friends with Iza-nii?”

There’s a short pause, during which the other girl also steps forward, with a look on her face that reminds Shizuo a little of his brother, until he finally shrugs and replies lightly “we have some common friends”. It’s not a lie, but it’s not exactly the answer to the question posed either. But the girls seem content anyway, the one with mischief clear in her eyes nodding enthusiastically and greeting him with a joyful hi as the other one simply blinks.

“We’re here to kill a couple of hours. The fair is big enough to fit us both, so let’s just steer clear of each other and call it a ceasefire for New Year’s Eve.”

Izaya sounds composed, but the look on his face is too rigid to be anything but anxious. The similarity between the three siblings is uncanny. Shizuo knows from Shinra that Izaya’s sisters are identical twins, but he didn’t expect them to also look so much like their brother. Especially the one with braided long hair could be a spitting image of him when he was her age.

“That’s fine” he says, his eyes still on the tiny girls gazing up at him. “I’m also just killing some time.”

“On your own? Can’t you find even a single person to put up with you during the holidays?” Izaya scoffs, some of the customary hostility they share having returned to his posture. Shizuo chooses to ignore it and explains calmly that he’s lost his company and before he’s finished speaking he has two Orihara girls clinging to his legs.

“You can come with us!” the talkative one exclaims as her sister joins her in a chorus for the last two words.

“I’m sure he has better things to do”, Izaya provides, arms crossed in front of his chest, but Shizuo is fast to disprove him.

“I don’t, actually.” He watches Izaya’s eyes widen comically before turning to the little girls still clinging onto him. “I’d love to tag along, if your brother’s ok with that.” It’s cheap of him, he knows. Izaya would probably agree to jumping off the roof to save himself from his sisters’ wailing. But he’ll take what he can.

Unsurprisingly, Izaya is broody for the first several minutes of their joint wandering. The girls are overexcited with the unexpected addition of a new member to their company and with the variety of options around them, bouncing eagerly from one side to the other, arguing between themselves about which rides they should go to and what sweets they should buy from the kiosks, while Izaya follows them closely, sulking in a very uncharacteristic manner. Shizuo manages to extract the names of the girls from him – Mairu, the one with the braid, and Kururi, the quiet one – and their age – 6. Shizuo watches him from the corner of his eye, walking beside him with his shoulders tense and his jaw set, as if ready for a fight. He’s never been blind to Izaya’s good looks, but it’s always been easy to look past them and focus on his annoying antics instead. But out here, in the middle of a crowded fair, with Christmas lights casting golden and crimson hues along Izaya’s pale face, it’s hard to think of anything else. With Izaya on the defensive there are no biting comments, no sarcastic smirks, only a handsome boy walking next to him, quietly watching his sisters ahead of him. It’s endearing really.

“Your sisters are fun.” Izaya tenses next to him, but keeps quiet. “I have never seen you with them before.”

“Do you spend your free time stalking me, Shizu-chan?”

Deep down everyone is flawed and scared, he repeats his mother’s words to himself and chuckles. “I just mean that I could never picture you this way. I have a little brother myself-”

“I know”, Izaya cuts him off with cold indifference, as if this brief exchange has managed to bore him already. “How come he’s not tailing you? Does your mother not force you to take him along with you everywhere?”

It sounds like a typical, if somewhat petty, older brother complaint and Shizuo finds himself feeling amused. “He’s somewhere around here with our cousins.”

When Izaya turns to look straight at him, Shizuo feels as if the world has momentarily stopped turning. His eyes look unnaturally bright as they reflect the neon signs around them and the way he stares openly at Shizuo’s face, it’s as if he’s reaching into his mind and caressing every thought of his. “Not a very good company, I guess?” He’s shrugging before Shizuo has had the chance to offer a reply, turning away to follow his sisters to one of the kiosks selling soft ice, scoffing family is overrated over his shoulder and the moment Shizuo thinks they shared is gone just like that.

Between arguing about which rides are best suited for the twins’ age and munching on jelly beans and soft ice and chocolate bars and pretty much anything sugar-loaded available, they end up not going to that many rides after all. They agree on the least exciting-looking roller coaster, one that is clearly destined for the younger ages, and Mairu is practically furious about said choice, as if this specific roller coaster constitutes a personal insult for her. But it’s the only one her brother will allow her on and she’s been bugging them about getting on a roller coaster since the moment they arrived, so she gives in eventually. Shizuo sits with Kururi behind Izaya who is vainly trying to restrain Mairu next to him. It’s not that bad, after all. Kururi has a wide grin on her face throughout the ride while Mairu squeals incessantly, throwing her arms in the air and howling like a wolf, but it’s Izaya’s crystalline laughter that echoes in Shizuo’s ears even after they’ve climbed out of their seats and moved on to buy tickets to the Ferris wheel. Mairu climbs in with Shizuo this time and gives him multiple heart attacks by swinging her legs non-stop, making their car rock precariously from side to side. They get the girls on the carousel afterwards, standing by next to each other and watching them ride on their fake horses with huge grins on their faces.

“You could have gotten on the more exciting rides on your own” Izaya says at some point, but there’s no mocking lilt in his voice, no malice, just a matter-of-fact statement. “You would have probably had more fun.”

“Nah. I’m having a good time as it is.”

The girls come running shortly after and they’re off to find the next ride to spend their money on, but Izaya’s gaze lingers on Shizuo as they move on.

As they’re passing by the shooting games, Mairu suddenly starts jumping up and down, her little arm extended in the air and pointing at something. “Iza-nii, I want THAT!” she’s shrieking within seconds, grabbing her brother’s pants and pulling him towards one of the games. There’s a metallic headband with deer ears and antlers hanging along with an assortment of plushies and hats at the back, which serve as prizes for those who manage to shoot down a number of targets. “They’re so beautiful!” she croons and Shizuo can see why. The antlers are long and thin, painted rose gold. The ears are fluffy, made of a combination of felt and faux fur, and sprinkled with stardust. The top of the headband is decorated with small silk flowers, of different sizes and colors. It’s certainly cheap and flimsy, as all carnival prizes tend to be, but it still looks like someone put great care into making it.

“Elf” Kururi mutters, joining her sister in front of the kiosk and pointing at an elf hat, complete with pointy ears, just a bit to the right of the deer headband.

Izaya sighs, exasperated with his sisters’ antics, but asks how much it costs to try his luck anyway. When the clearly bored employee hands him a shotgun, Izaya turns to extend it to Shizuo. “Come on, Shizu-chan, show us what you’ve got.”

Needless to say, Shizuo fails miserably. He manages to shoot down one target and is a second away from splitting the toy gun in half by the time he runs out of bullets. The twins are close to tears from disappointment, but Izaya looks sorely amused. He pays for another round, places the gun against his shoulder, takes aim and keeps entirely still for a second, before pulling the trigger and missing the first target by a hair. He remains calm and still despite the disappointed sounds his sisters make. He adjusts his position quietly, not losing his concentration, takes a deep breath and holds it before pulling the trigger and shooting down the first target. The twins scream with excitement and start jumping up and down excitedly, while Shizuo whistles his approval. Izaya ignores their reactions completely and continues in the same pace until he’s shot down all targets and won the headband for Mairu and then reluctantly pays for another round to win Kururi’s elf hat as well.

“You’re really good!” Shizuo exclaims when Izaya turns around to join them, handing over Kururi’s prize.

“And you’re predictably terrible” is what Izaya offers in reply, but his mood is clearly lighter than before as he basks in the awe-stricken stares of the crowd that has gathered to watch him shoot one target after the other.

“Where did you learn to shoot like that?”

“Didn’t you know? When I’m not wrecking Raijin with you, I’m a hitman for the yakuza.”

Despite his tone dripping with sarcasm, Shizuo has the sinking feeling that it wouldn’t be too farfetched for Izaya. It must show on his face because Izaya laughs at him like a madman.

Half an hour later, they’re sitting at a picnic bench facing each other, watching the girls run around with other kids not far from them. A comfortable silence has descended between them and Shizuo thinks to himself that Izaya is almost nice to be around when he’s not actively trying to piss him off. He lets his gaze wander to the boy sitting opposite him, studying his profile as the other is busy watching his sisters with a look that resembles affection too closely to look anything but foreign on him.

“This was nice.”

Izaya doesn’t refute this, but he keeps silent long enough to get Shizuo worried. His gaze is still following his sisters although his attention has clearly shifted. He drums his fingers on the table between them and hums skepticism in the back of his throat. “And it’s back to normal after the holidays, right?” He only cuts his gaze to Shizuo when his question goes unanswered and coming face to face with confusion he continues “Me pissing you off, you trying to kill me. Life at Raijin as we know it.”

Izaya’s features are set in hard resolve and his expression feels out of place in their current setting. He looks almost upset and Shizuo is shaking his head rendered weak with uncertainty. “It doesn’t have to be.”

Izaya’s jaw tenses, he averts his gaze to stare at the surface of the table instead, pressing his lips tight together as if to keep himself from saying something he’ll regret. Shizuo thinks he should say something, but as he opens his mouth, still uncertain of what’s going to come out of it, Izaya’s cell phone starts ringing and the moment is gone. As Izaya checks the screen for the caller’s identity and grimaces irritation, the twins arrive running at the table chanting a chorus of mom.

“Hello? Yes, hi mother” Izaya speaks into the receiver rolling his eyes and swatting his sisters’ hands away from him and the device. “Have you just landed? Alright, we’ll see you at home then.” The girls have fisted their little hands in his coat and are trying to pull him away from the table even before he’s hung up, Kururi murmuring late while Mairu alternates between shrieking with joy and berating her brother for not taking them home earlier. “They have just landed at the airport. They are still waiting for their luggage and they need at least an hour to get home from there, so stop dragging me!” They let go of him eventually, but they stay hovering by the table, eager to leave asap, so Izaya stands begrudgingly. “I guess it’s time we left, Shizu-chan.”

“It was nice meeting you, girls” Shizuo says as he gets up and then squats to be at the same level with the twins, trying his best to conceal his disappointment at having this evening cut short. He finds it easier than he originally thought as the twins throw themselves at him, hugging him tightly and wishing him a happy new year. Mairu goes on to heatedly explain that their parents are coming back for the New Year celebrations and they have to rush back home to welcome them and Shizuo can’t help but smile goofily at her excitement. Kururi just looks up at him and takes the hat off her head to place it on his. Present is all she says, but her eyes make it clear that she will not take no for an answer, so Shizuo thanks her and leaves the hat on. He hears Izaya chuckling above him, but Mairu is jumping on the table next thing he knows and when he looks up, Izaya has the deer antlers propped on his head, looking surprised and adorable. It’s Shizuo’s turn to chuckle, but as Izaya’s eyes narrow with irritation he states “you look cute” and watches color rise in the other’s face.

“If you tell anyone, I’ll kill you.” Shizuo takes it for the empty threat it is and just smiles.

“Leave it on, it suits you” and he takes a step forward, effectively stepping into Izaya’s personal space, leaning in to plant a kiss on his cheek. Izaya starts, shocked at the close proximity and clearly not knowing what to expect, and the kiss lands not exactly on his cheek, but at the corner of his lips, leaving the both of them embarrassed as the girls stare at them with matching devilish grins. “Happy New Year”, Shizuo blurts before turning to leave, to go find his brother and cousins so they can all leave together, the image of Izaya looking literally like a deer caught in the headlights imprinted on his memory.

DRRRSecretSanta2019: A lovely fic for @breedafool by Astroenergy! Thank you so much for participating!!

#submission #fanfic #long post

[raendown]

Commission for @cassieeeeanne.

Pairing: KakashiSakura Word count: 3792 Rated: E Summary: Kakashi proposes a naughty little challenge inspired by something he read in Icha Icha and Sakura takes to this new game just a bit better than he expected.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Icha Icha Made Me Do It

It seemed like such a good idea, very sexy and very risqué in all the right ways, right up until they were both standing on the front porch in a pool of brilliant sunshine and it finally hit home that he was going to have to walk through public like this. That was about the point Kakashi started questioning his life decisions.

For instance: what in the world had possessed him to fall in love with a smart, strong-willed, deliciously attractive woman whose personality managed a uniquely perfect blend of good work ethic and flexible fun? The only thing that had gotten him – besides several years of blissful happiness, of course – was a flushed face that was probably visible even over the edge of his mask and a raging hard-on he probably could have used to give directions to one of the lost old ladies who always seemed to accost him. Not that he was going to. Even he had some boundaries when it came to this stuff.

“How did I let you talk me in to this?” he mumbled while he waited for Sakura to lock the door behind them. She sounded just as breathless as him when she answered, which was at least a small consolation.

“It was your idea.”

“Oh yeah.” Kakashi frowned. “You really need to stop letting me talk you in to things that I find in Icha Icha.”

Her single eyebrow spoke volumes when she raised it in his direction but Kakashi judiciously chose to pretend he had no idea what she was trying to get at. Instead he very carefully shifted his weight to make sure the toy buried inside of him was still in a good position, nothing that would cause any undue gasping when he started to walk. Of course, things would get a lot more difficult once Sakura set her thumb to the remote control she had in her pocket but as soon as she did the game was on and he would be wasting no time retaliating with the remote control he was carrying himself for the vibrator buried deep inside of her.

Something in him wanted to point out how unfair it was that his vibrator had a chance of getting a good run at his prostate to cause extra embarrassment while hers had no chance of going anywhere near her clit but really it was too late for that. He was already lubed and stuffed and so hard his cock probably counted as another weapon. Now was the time to live up to the challenge he himself had proposed.

“Ready?” Sakura’s cheeks were a very pretty shade of pink, as they had been since she first lay back and let him work the vibrator inside her a few minutes before they left the house. Kakashi took a moment to admire how well she was holding herself together before nodding.

“Yup. One romantic evening walk around town coming right up.”

“At least you let me talk you out of going to work like this. Can you imagine me trying to see to my patients like this?” She very carefully stepped over to his side and slid her arm in to his. “Can you imagine trying to sit through official meetings with your council like this?”

“No and also please do not make me imagine the council and sex toys in the same situation.”

Sakura laughed at him but Kakashi shuddered as they stepped out together.

In retrospect he truly was more grateful than he could say that she had talked him out of going to work like this. Only halfway down the street he was cursing himself for this latest ‘brilliant idea’. The toy inside of him was solid and warm and it rubbed in all sorts of interesting ways with every step. By the end of their street he was glad he’d thought to put on an extra pair of underwear because he was already leaking with excitement.

And then the toy began to vibrate unexpectedly.

Rather than swear like a particularly aroused pirate as he wanted to Kakashi bit his tongue and went stiff, bearing up under his wife’s laughter until the sensation stopped, then he turned his hand over in his pocket and went for his own control. He was equal parts proud and disappointed that Sakura’s reaction was as controlled as his own. A part of him had been hoping for a loud squeal.

They walked together for more than an hour, both of their fingers on and off the controls at random times and with no discernable pattern, each trying to push the other farther towards the edge while also clinging to sanity by a thread themselves. For each deserted street Kakashi chose to wander down Sakura laughingly steered them towards a busier one just to torture him for his own poor decisions. Never had he been so glad that the new model of flak vests hung low enough for the shadow to make an excellent disguise for any wetness that was sure to bleed through his clothing eventually.

After the first hour Kakashi was beginning to wonder if he might actually have to pause and bend over to lose himself in his pants in some random back alley and despite their halting attempts to keep up a steady conversation he found his mind was filled with little more than filthy desires and fantasies he hadn’t entertained in quite some time. If their game didn’t end soon he was getting dangerously close to tapping out first because clearly he was the only one struggling with this challenge.

Or he thought he was until, to his great surprise, Sakura pushed him in to an alley and buried her head against his shoulder to muffle a scream in the material of his vest.

“I think that’s all the acting skills I have in me,” she panted against his chest. Kakashi blinked down at her.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Yes, yes, oh my god I can’t take it anymore. I’m done.”

“But you’ve been holding it together better than I have this whole time!” He cried.

She lifted her head to glare at him and only then did he see what he had been too distracted to see until now. It made so much more sense now why she had so stubbornly kept her eyes straight ahead and ducked her chin whenever they passed someone else too closely on the street. Her cheeks were still flushed, which could have been attributed to the heat of a long summer day, but her eyes were desperate and feral in a way he only ever saw in the bedroom. She looked ready to be devoured.

“Acting skills indeed,” he said in wonder. “I never even heard your voice shake once.”

“Yeah, great, I’ll get a day job acting. Please take me home and fuck me. Kakashi, please. I need to come so bad.”

It was a rare occasion indeed when he could get a strong woman like Sakura anywhere close to begging. Kakashi wrapped both arms around his wife and brought his hands together for a body flicker.

They were gone from the alley in an instant and as soon as they landed in their bedroom he could not have said what alley they had been in or what roads they had travelled in the time since they had left. Extended pleasure had left his brain mush and his body vibrating as surely as the toy buried within him. Both of them collapsed against each other with a gasp as soon as they were sure they had arrived somewhere private, their eyes closed and their bodies quaking together for want of the explosive orgasm dangling just out of reach.

“I don’t even care what you choose for your prize,” Sakura growled, “just let me come, I am begging you.”

“Okay…so here’s the thing.” Kakashi swallowed thickly and twitched, holding back a mewl of want when Sakura scrambled for the remote she appeared to only just realize she had left on.

“You better not have just come in your pants!”

“No, although I am man enough to admit that I had a couple close calls.” Kakashi pulled his mask down to give his wife a considering look. “I was just going to say that, ah, I know that you won but I don’t think we’ve ever talked about what I was going to ask for my prize. After all this I’ve got…a craving.”

Sakura eyed him carefully, impatience humming under her skin. “Go on.”

“Have you ever pegged anyone before?”

“Oh. Um, no I haven’t. I imagine the mechanics of it are fairly easy to figure out though and, well, you’re already all…open. Or however you say it.” To his relief she didn’t seem put off by the idea, only a little thrown by the unexpected request. It had been a while since Kakashi had given much thought to being on the receiving end of anything but a blowjob, not since the two of them started dating a few years back, and suddenly he very much regretted not bringing this up earlier.

Apparently he could have been satisfied in a whole other host of ways this entire time.

Casting his eyes over towards his half of their shared closet he murmured, “I still have the harness you would need and the straps are adjustable…”

“You’re not going to tell I can’t get myself off after, are you?” Her question made him squirm and Kakashi may have been blushing a little when he ducked his head and peeked up at her through his drooping fringe.

“No I wasn’t gonna tell you to do anything. Actually, I was sort of hoping it would be you telling me what to do.” Hopefully she got his meaning from that because while he had never been ashamed of his own tastes before that didn’t make it any easier to request his wife of two years dominate him for the first time. Change was never easy for him.

Even when that change sounded delicious and promised to end with satisfaction on both sides.

Still, Sakura looked genuinely intrigued by his suggestion. Her eyes roamed down his body and Kakashi didn’t bother hiding the shiver as his own imagination took off trying to figure out what filthy things were going on in hers. He was so distracted thinking about it he almost didn’t notice when she slipped one hand in to her pocket for the same remote control that had been driving him wild since they left the house before.

The sensation was so unexpected after he had finally allowed himself to stop anticipating it that the short burst of vibration shocked a cry out of him and folded his legs, leaving him kneeling on the floor at Sakura’s feet. When she smirked he could only swallow thickly and thank the gods he’d been smart enough to marry this amazing woman.

“Well, well. How kind of you to get in to position without being asked. If you want your own satisfaction, Mr. Hatake, I’m afraid you’ll have to earn it with mine.” She lifted that single eyebrow again and he didn’t need to follow what her hands were doing to guess what she wanted.

“Yes mistress,” he breathed.

“Mistress, huh? I think I like that. You may please your mistress now, Kakashi.” Sakura beckoned him forward with one finger but Kakashi was already reaching for the hem of her skirt.

Her clothing fell away easily enough and Kakashi had his tongue circling her clit almost the instant she was exposed to the air. Sakura gasped above him and slid her fingers in to his hair with a firm grip, though she allowed him to move as he wished and offered no other commands but a breathy, “More!”

So more is what he gave her. With his tongue already hard at work Kakashi slid both hands up the inside of her thighs to wrap his fingers around the toy he himself had worked inside her not too long ago. She was dripping wet, the underwear he had just removed for her soaked through, and that made it deliciously easier to grip the toy to slowly pull it out. Her moan of pleasure was cut off when he slid the toy back in at just the right angle, becoming a sharp cry as her hips rocked in to the motion unconsciously to grind against his face.

With how worked up she was already it was no surprise that it didn’t take very long. Kakashi moaned each time the hand in his hair tightened to bring him closer but never once did his tongue let up and his fingers refused to pause in working the toy until Sakura was shuddering and breaking, the other hand on his shoulder the only thing keeping her from falling over. She never let go of his hair, however, and Kakashi had dabbled in this kind of play enough times to know that it wasn’t for him to decide when he should stop, although he doubted that was really at the forefront of his wife’s mind in that moment.

He stopped only when Sakura pushed him away and demanded in a shaking voice that he pull the toy out of her completely, which he did with agonizing slowness for no reason other than to tease her with the fact that she hadn’t been very specific. After she had gathered herself enough to speak properly she slid one hand under his chin and lifted it to meet her gaze. Kakashi quivered under the heat in her eyes.

“Now would be a good time for you to fetch that harness, pet.”

Feet slipping and limbs suddenly clumsy in their haste, Kakashi all but flung himself towards his side of their doublewide closet and dug deep in to the back where he had shoved all the boxes from his old apartment that never got unpacked. The harness jingled merrily when he pulled it out of the box, leather supple against his skin, and already he could feel his body clenching in anticipation.

Sakura was the very vision of a dominatrix as she took a firm power stance and ordered him to put the harness on for her. In that moment Kakashi could think of nothing else he would rather do. He nearly shook with anticipation as he fitted the straps to her body and secured one of the toys he only ever used when she wasn’t home in the front. He almost expected his wife to take a moment to get used to the new addition but it only took one look for him to see he was wrong.

“Bend over the foot of the bed,” Sakura commanded. “And spread your legs for me.”

“Yes mistress!” He was there in an instant, twitching with need and more eager than he could ever remember being for any of his previous partners. A whimper escaped his lips when he felt her take a good grip on his hair again to pull his head back for a filthy kiss.

“Good boy,” she murmured against his lips.

There was no time for another whimper as a deep groan was torn from him when she took hold of the electric toy that had been driving him insane for the past hour and more. The flared base pulled at his entrance in a way had him making fists in the bedsheets and breathing hard until finally it was sliding out and he was woefully empty. Even before Sakura got her hands on his hips Kakashi was arching his back and presenting, begging to be filled again, desperate in a way he’d almost forgotten he could be.

Certainly he’d been desperate for Sakura’s touch before; their sex life was anything but boring. But there was a different kind of excitement in fucking his wife up against a wall than there was in bending over to let her fuck him instead. This was a whole new world of things for them to explore together. He only wished he’d thought to suggest these things earlier in their relationship.

At the first touch of something slick and blunt Kakashi gasped, wondering how he could have possibly let his mind wander far enough that he hadn’t noticed her grabbing the lube to apply to her new toy.

“How much can you take, hm pet? Would you like me to tease you?” Sakura rolled her hips to torment his entrance until he whined softly. “Oh, but you’re already open for me, aren’t you? I’ll bet you’d rather I just get straight to fucking you hard like you so obviously want.”

“Please fuck me, mistress,” he gasped, barely able to squeeze the words out.

“That’s what I thought. So eager.”

Sakura pet his hair a couple of times and, like a cat, Kakashi felt his body melting under the soft touch until her hips pressed forward without warning and he was arching again at the sensation of a thick head breaching him. It wasn’t quite the full thrust he might have expected from someone with more experience who understood what he could take but he understood Sakura’s hesitance and refrained from anything other than begging her to fuck him deeper, harder.

And she listened, of course. The moment she had drawn her mental boundaries was clear as Kakashi felt two tiny hands taking a firm grip on either side of his thighs and then it was all his could do to hold on tight to the bedding, riding the cock fucking him from behind, high on the voice that murmured praise and encouragement above him. All he could think – besides how incredible it felt and how close he already was to coming – was that he hoped she was enjoying this as much as he was because they needed to do this again sometime. Very soon.

That’s what he was thinking right up until the moment he realized that his wife was a medical professional, she would know better than anyone where the prostate was, and that she must have been deliberately avoiding it this whole time. She was edging him; and if he knew his wife then he could guess that she wanted him to beg before she let him finish.

Which he was not above doing. Kami but this woman was perfect for him.

“Please mistress, may I come?” Kakashi clenched around the toy as it slid in again and paused for Sakura to shiver against his back.

“Of course pet. You may come now since you’ve been so well behaved.” Her hips rolled back and Kakashi knew that when she thrust forward her aim would be true. Before she could move again he hurried to turn his head and babble out one last request.

“Wait! Could- could you pull my hair again? Please?”

“Anything you like,” she purred.

Fingers slid in to his hair and Kakashi’s eyes were already rolling back in pleasure at the pull against his roots even before she pressed him down over the end of the bed and began to fuck him in earnest, each stroke drawing out helpless cries of pleasure until finally the angle shifted ever so slightly and he saw stars, ecstasy ripping through him on the first hit. His orgasm rolled through him like wildfire, heat rushing through his veins and leaving him breathless.

Not until he was truly begging for mercy did Sakura stop fucking him, letting her hips come to rest with the toy buried deep inside and the leather of her harness pressed up against his overheated skin. It took several seconds of gulping air like a drowning man before Kakashi blinked and realized he was staring sightlessly at nothing and seeing only the white noise inside his own head. When the room came back in to focus he realized that he had actual torn the sheets with both hands. Some part of him absently mourned the loss of the expensive bedding he had only just bought a few months ago but most of him was concentrating on the feeling of Sakura’s palms skimming up and down his back.

“Thank you mistress,” he mumbled and then smiled when it startled a laugh out of his wife.

“It truly was my pleasure,” Sakura admitted. “I don’t think I would mind trying this again some time. Maybe revisit the bits where you called me mistress and follow my orders without question. That part I liked.”

Kakashi chuckled weakly. “I am not surprised.”

Getting cleaned up afterwards was interesting. After so long being filled in one way or another it was strange when Sakura pulled her hips away very slowly and he was empty once more, fidgeting while she used a few wipes to clean away the excess lube around his entrance. She laughed brightly when he called her solicitous.  

Watching Sakura struggle with the harness and fighting her way out of the straps without bothering to remove the toy from it first was more funny than sexy and by the time Kakashi was able to pull her down in to the bed for a much needed nap before dinner her found that he was in higher spirits than he could remember in the past little while. Things had been tense for both of them at work lately, part of the reason he had proposed this game as a way to relieve a bit of tension, but now he was little more than a puddle between the sheets with Sakura’s warm weight curled around his side.

“I’m glad you talk me in to weird stuff,” she told him in a thoughtful voice.

“Maa, I’m glad you let me.”

“Let’s do something else weird soon. You’ve probably got all sorts of stuff in that closet, don’t you?”

“I do,” Kakashi admitted. Turning his head, he pressed a kiss against Sakura’s hair. “And I would be very happy to show you a few new tricks. Thank you for not laughing me out of the house when I suggested this.”

After a bit of shuffling she was in a good position to push herself up and press a light kiss against his cheek. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he said in return.

He closed his eyes, determined to get at least an hour of sleep before one of them had to get up to cook dinner. Those plans changed, however, when Sakura pressed another kiss against his cheek and he opened one eye to find her peering across the room at their closet with the bright light of adventure in her gaze.

It looked like maybe he would get to pull out his box of tricks a little earlier than expected.

#rae writes #commission #kakasaku #kakashi #sakura #fanfiction

[mycarlydotcom]

Looking Back at iCarly

In...5...4...3...2...

Hello internet! This blog lives on, and so do I! My Nickelodeon heart still beats, and here I am in 2019, having recently finished re-watching iCarly…again. Admittedly, there is a part me still clinging to this fandom and I don’t think it will ever go away. So, I recently sat my grown ass adult-self down to re-watch the series, and I feel the desire to just talk about it.

Let’s preface everything with an acknowledgement to nostalgia and the impact it has on how we view things we enjoyed in the past. Nostalgia is typically viewed through rose colored lenses that disguise the truth about whatever it is we remember so fondly. I realize this, and fully acknowledge that nostalgia is probably the biggest reason for my enjoyment during this re-watch; but whether it was nostalgia or not, I have no shame in saying that I loved it. I loved every single second of it. Yeah it was a little cringey at first, (Honestly, that’s to be expected when looking back at shows like these with more mature eyes) but that feeling settled pretty fast, and it didn’t take long for me to fall right back in love with the show.

I love this show. I watched it frequently as a preteen into my teenage years (Around the ages of 11-15 I’d say). I watched until about Season 3 but I ended up falling off with it as I grew older; so I never saw anything from Season 4 onward during its initial run. Fast forward a few years later, and somewhere around 2013 an iCarly clip found its way into my YouTube suggestions. I don’t remember the specific clip, but it had something to do with Sam and Freddie (It may have been the elevator scene from iLove You). It caught my attention because I always remembered thinking that Sam and Freddie would end up together. Curiously enough, I clicked it, and that served as the impetus to make me watch the entire series. I watched it all, and I loved it. I loved it so much that I even made this blog dedicated to it, and other shows cut from the same cloth. I had my heart stolen by Sam and Freddie, and obsessed over the pairing like many others had done before me. I became so attached to the characters, and as corny as it sounds, I felt like they were my friends. I just loved it all. I was hooked, and the series known as iCarly ended up leaving a lasting impression on me. Going on that journey was such a blast; but like all good things, it eventually came to end. After a while I started using this blog less and less. I slowly stopped watching reruns of old Nickelodeon shows, and I eventually fell off completely. So now, we fast forward one more time and here we are in 2019, I have watched the series again, and it turns out that I still harbor that deep connection to it that I had before. The fandom still lives within me, and I’ve realized it will never go away. It is always going hold a place in heart.

Now that my long-winded introduction is over, let’s move on to talking about the show itself. Upon this most recent viewing of the series, I will say that in my humble opinion, the show peaks in Season 3. While I may love the series as a whole, I cannot deny that its glory days are definitely in its earlier years. During this re-watch, I noticed a subtle dip in the quality of show from Season 4 onward. It’s not like it falls off a cliff or anything, it was still very enjoyable, but it definitely felt like they were losing control. This trend continued in Season 5, and parlayed right into the final season as well. By the time you reach the end, it’s apparent they were desperate for ideas, or were just ready to move on. Again, it’s not awful, but it’s not firing on all cylinders like it was in the earlier seasons. There are a plethora of issues we could point to when discussing this, but I think the biggest culprit to the show’s decline in quality was the “ships.” That entire craze definitely had a negative impact on the series overall; even as a “Seddier,” I can admit that. I’ve actually previously, briefly discussed (Here) how I believe “shipping,” directly changed the original, intended story of Sam and Freddie; and I still believe that. The creative direction was undoubtedly influenced by the divide in the audience, and I don’t think that can be disputed. But regardless of the slight dip in quality, I will say that iCarly is still tremendous overall, and Seasons 4 through 6 still have their moments and some great episodes. Season 6 itself recovers wonderfully by the end, with the last five episodes of the series serving as a splendid return to form for the show.

iCarly was one of the most successful Nickelodeon shows for a reason…because it truly is great. In many ways it was a glimpse into the future when you think about the power of the internet and its ability to influence and create success nowadays. It capitalized on that ever growing popularity of the internet, and did so wonderfully. Who didn’t want to have their own version of the iCarly web show? Everyone did, it was the coolest concept. Couple that with the amazing cast they gathered to play the character’s we all came to love, and the show had a recipe for brilliance. 

Let’s actually talk about casting on this show because it is absolutely tremendous…

Miranda wonderfully transitioned from the devious little sister, Megan, on Drake & Josh, to the lovable protagonist known as Carly, and she was perfect for the role. Carly is portrayed as the best friend that anyone could ever ask for, and Miranda fills that role so believably well. You truly feel that she cares deeply for all of her friends, and honestly, I think that’s just an extension of Miranda herself. All you have to do is listen to any of her fellow cast member’s talk about her, and it’s not hard to understand why she played Carly so well.

Then there is Jennette; what else can I say about Jennette McCurdy that I haven’t already gushed about on this blog? I adore her to pieces, and her on screen counterpart known as Sam Puckett, I adore even more. I’ve heard Jennette be critical of the show and the role she played, especially as she’s gotten older and distanced herself from the Nickelodeon bubble, but I honestly think she doesn’t give herself enough credit for pulling off Sam the way she did. There is nobody else they could have cast to play that role better than her. There are many layers to Sam Puckett, and while the show tends to shy away from truly fleshing that out, we still get glimpses of it throughout the series. It’s the biggest reason why I love Sam so much, and Jennette excellently captures that contrast within the character. Sam is a tough as they come, and rarely displays compassion or vulnerability, but underneath her rough exterior is a wonderful person with a heart of gold. Much like that character, it often seems that there is a lot more than what’s displayed on the surface with Jennette as well, curiously enough. She herself, is somewhat of an enigma (which I plan on discussing one day as well). The character, and actor are very similar in that regard, and I think that’s why Sam was so great. For the purpose of comedy, Sam is a totally over-exaggerated character, and much more of a tomboy than Jennette is in real life, but beneath all the comedic hyperbole, there are some striking parallels between the character and the actor.

Of course, there is Nathan Kress, who played the role of Freddie, and did a splendid job capturing the loveable tech nerd Freddie was; especially in the earlier years. Nathan also deserves major props for continuing to pull the Freddie character off as time went on because let’s be honest, Nathan matured into quite the handsome young fella right in the midst of this show airing. It was funny juxtaposition to see him still have to portray Freddie, as Sam might say, a “nub,” when he very clearly wasn’t. So again, props to him because he still made it believable that Freddie was just a big dork who struggled with girls and whatnot despite his dapper, physical appearance.

Who doesn’t love Jerry Trainor? He comes across as the most fun person to be around, and I have to imagine that working with him is a total joy. All you have to do is watch the blooper episodes, iBloop and iBloop 2, and you can see just how much fun he makes the work environment for all of his fellow actors. He, as Spencer, is low key probably everyone’s favorite character. He was the perfect choice to portray Spencer, and while he does all the whacky humor and eccentric behavior perfectly, he also captures the moments where Spencer needs to be a responsible adult, arguably even better.

And last but not least, Noah Munck as Gibby. From starting as a reoccurring character with a strange quirk where he persistently took his shirt off , to transitioning into the main cast where announcing his own name in exaggerated fashion became a staple of the show, Noah took this peculiar character and brought him to life in the most entertaining way possible. To quote Gibby himself, Noah made the show, “a lot of fun,” and provided some of the best laughs in series.

I cannot say enough good things about iCarly. It is an all-timer as far as Nickelodeon shows are concerned, and those who were part of the fandom know just how special it was. I’ll forever hold it in my heart, and remember the joy it brought me whenever I “need a laugh, cheer, or random dance.”

And, we're clear...

#icarly #carly shay #sam puckett #samantha puckett #freddie benson #spencer shay #gibby #miranda cosgrove #jennette mccurdy #nathan kress #jerry trainor #noah munck #mine

[palmviolet]

Do you think Hopper is a good father figure to Eleven? Not really perfect, but not the worst like Dr. Brenner was? When I think about it I’m mostly conflicted because Hopper obviously cares for Eleven’s well being and loves to spend time with her, but at the same time he was shown to have kinda manipulative and controlling traits over her, like that time she took a risk in escaping the cabin or when he threatened her boyfriend Mike. His style of parenting is def controversial.

well obviously when you compare him to brenner he is much, much better. he actively cares about el and looks after her because he wants to protect her, not because he’s using her for experiments. i mean stranger things as a whole has an issue with father figures, so let’s review: we have brenner (awful), neil hargrove (awful), lonnie (just as awful), ted (pathetic), mr sinclair (cool but we only get a glimpse of him), and then there’s hopper. hopper ranks above ted, for sure. comparatively he’s one of the best fathers on the show, if not the best. but he is the best of a bad bunch.

‘controversial’ is the right word. in season 2 i think his behaviour was more understandable because there is a real risk of death or worse to literally everyone involved if the government finds out about el. we know the kids are smart and responsible, but he doesn’t and he’s well within his rights not to trust their secret-keeping abilities. as for not telling joyce - i can understand why he didn’t, because she’s got a lot on her plate right now, but i think it was detrimental to both el and joyce. el, because her only influence becomes hopper and the tv. that’s not healthy, especially for a teenager who has had limited contact with the outside world anyway thus far. she’s going stir crazy and he should be understanding of that, not reacting with anger. it’s bad for joyce too because regardless of whether she knows that hopper gave el up to brenner she probably feels horribly guilty about the whole thing - in essence el gave her life to save will, or so joyce believes. if hop had told joyce about el then it would have had the dual benefit of easing joyce’s guilt and of giving el another influence, one who is very experienced in parenting teenagers. but he didn’t, so it’s academic.

he hasn’t been a parent in a long time and i don’t think he ever expected to be a parent again. so when el lands in his lap he’s a bit rusty, to say the least. he resorts to his usual methods of problem-solving - anger, manipulation, control - which simply won’t work on a telekinetic teenage girl. he’s trying to keep her safe but he doesn’t understand the fact that she is a child - because she is still a child, especially since she grew up in the lab - and what seems logical and easy to him isn’t at all to her. 

like i said, this is all understandable, if not great. but s3 is where it gets less so. the duffers seem to have enjoyed (?) his overprotectiveness in s2 for some reason so they decide to ramp it up to max in s3, despite the fact that the danger is passing. for some reason hopper - who himself has admitted that he was far from a model teenage boy and was actively engaged in relationships and sexual activity at el’s age if not younger - cannot stand the fact that el is in a relationship. el and mike have seen each other every single day since s2 and yeah, that’s not healthy at all, especially as it’s to the detriment of her other relationships, but the way he goes about handling it is not good. he asks joyce for advice and then discards it (which i don’t really blame him for as a person because mike was being goddamn insufferable, but as a parent it’s his responsibility to be the mature one) and physically locks mike in his car, after lying to him. that’s not okay? he’s literally acting churlish and childish in his very parenting of a child and it’s really just... not great. as a parent you have a responsibility to show maturity, to set a good example for your kid, and he’s resorting to his old methods of manipulation etc instead.

i suppose i can somewhat understand his reasoning, if we try to look at this from a watsonian perspective instead of a doylist one (because we all know the duffers only did this for ‘humor’). hopper doesn’t want things to change, as he expresses in his letter at the end. he’s afraid of losing el, whether by her being taken by brenner or just by growing up, so he clings onto the idea of her as a kid and can’t bear to see her moving on and having other relationships. (again, not healthy.) this is probably a leftover from his grief about sara. he also doesn’t trust mike because of what hopper was like as a teenage boy - playing hooky, screwing chrissy carpenter in the back of his dad’s oldsmobile. maybe he thinks mike is just using el - though this is tenuous, because if they’ve seen each other every day since s2 it’s pretty clear their feelings are deeper than that. 

what i’d hoped to see out of this season was joyce and hopper all but co-parenting. an established family link between the hoppers and the byers, with or without joyce and hopper dating. el needs another parent and joyce is the perfect candidate - but the duffers decide not to go down this route (until the end, at least) as evidenced by el only knowing joyce as ‘will’s mom’. this would have had the effect of mitigating - at least partly - hopper’s bad tendencies, and they could have grown together as a family. instead we have hopper clearly struggling to parent alone. what alarmed me most was when he turned up drunk after joyce missed their date and literally threw the door to el’s room open in a rage. if mike had been there instead of max i dread to think what would have happened. i don’t believe he would have hurt them but- the implication was there. and it really sucked. coming home in a drunken rage is just... not good parenting. 

it’s a bit reminiscent of lonnie, actually. and later in the season murray compares the two - he says to joyce that hopper maybe ‘reminds you of a bad relationship’. what do we know about lonnie? abusive, drunk, cruel, selfish. a terrible father. now hop is nowhere near as bad so really the duffers making this explicit comparison kind of... makes it worse? so as to highlight his flaws? honestly if i thought hopper was anything like lonnie i’d stop rooting for jopper like a shot, so i have no idea what the duffers were doing with this line. or with hopper for most of the season, lmao. 

in short, hopper has his up and down moments. i understand his character and why he behaves as he does most of the time, but that’s not really an excuse. i think he’s a good father figure to el but he could do better, especially after s3. it’s clear he loves el and she loves him and they have some really sweet moments but as a parent, he needs to get his shit together. i hope if and when he comes back the duffers take this on board. 

#jim hopper #joyce byers #el hopper #st meta #asks