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finalgirllx · 25 days

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thought you hated me | mattheo riddle entry 1 of a little anthology series i am starting with mattheo. as a way to practice writing without committing to a long series, i'll be writing a few blurbs for him based on the 'enemies to lovers' trope. 1.1k words | nsfw | minors dni | f!reader this is also a thank you for 2000 followers, like holy cow. that's insane. thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who has supported my nonsense.

"Hey, hey! Watch it! The recipe calls for a scoop of rose petals, not the entire bloody jar," you scold the curly-haired prick. He abided by your warning, much to your surprise, but not without tilting the jar above the cauldron a few extra times just to savor your irritation. You can't help but wonder what past mistakes led you to be doomed by fate to be partnered with Mattheo Riddle for potions class.

The whole school was aware of your mutual hatred, and neither of you made any effort to conceal it. It had been this way for so long that you couldn't even pinpoint why you hated him. Well, besides his utterly insufferable personality and a pisspoor attitude that not even his stellar good looks could redeem.

"He's an arrogant prick." "What a wretched tart." "A hotheaded muppet." "An absolute menace to civil society."

These were just a few recent jabs exchanged between you, either spoken directly or whispered through the grapevine. As long as everyone knows how much you despise each other, it suffices.

After your taunt over the rose petals, Mattheo's gaze bore into you beneath impossibly full eyelashes before he released a huff of pure disdain at your rigidity.

"You can piss off with that attitude. I say the one of us who didn't cause an explosion in class last week gets the bigger say over our potion-making," Mattheo countered, to which you promptly stood at attention and turned to face him, hands planted firmly on your hips.

"If that's the qualification, then I've had the upper hand practically every week this entire term! I cause one explosion, and you think you're all that," you argued back, to which Mattheo responded with a tired eye roll before he fixed his spiteful gaze fully on you.

"Well, I do have the right. Especially when you caused the explosion by staring at Cormac fucking McLaggen while biting your lip like an idiot," he grumbled, his voice lowered but the intensity still sending a shiver down your spine. You knew the implications of his words and that the facade could crumble under the man's temper in moments if you didn't tread forward lightly.

"Yeah, well, I don't see why you'd care, but I'll keep my eyes off of him," you begrudgingly relented with a shrug. You would have given him an earful with just about any other provocation, but what he could risk revealing over this wasn't worth continuing to bicker over.

"Good girl," Mattheo purrs the next time he leans closer to grab an ingredient, quiet enough so only you could hear, causing the heat rising between you to stay put. "Guess I'll need to find another reason to cave the bloke's face in," he adds, much to your dismay. You wanted to say something then, but the professor's perfectly timed interjection to order you both to focus on your work momentarily set the matter aside. -----------------

"Are you really going to make an arse of yourself and beat up Cormac if he and I so much as exchange a glance?" You questioned Mattheo incredulously as he hastily pulled you into a nearby empty broom closet with little resistance from yourself. The door had barely clicked shut before he tore off his robe and moved on to remove yours.

"You want to fucking try something? See how that works out for you, I'll make your ass red for weeks," Mattheo growled into your ear as his hands roamed your still-clothed torso, finding purchase on your breasts as he began to knead them, growing desperate for skin-to-skin contact. Your insolence had gotten him painfully turned on, urging him to handle your attitude with touches he knew would render you pliant. The whimpers his groping solicited from you had become the answer to his prayers.

This little arrangement had become second nature to you by now. You give Mattheo lip, which gets him riled up, so you both seek a release for your pent-up frustrations by way of you taking his dick. Each time, without fail, you two agree that this would be the last time. But having 'hated' each other for so long, you know just how to test the other's patience, him becoming as weak to your taunts as you are to his touch.

"Care so much about who I'm looking at, huh?" you mocked Mattheo as he attempted to undo the buttons on your top, his thought capacity overridden by lust. "I thought you hated me," you continued to bait him with a hint of amusement to mask the genuine curiosity for what he might say. A gasp escaped you when Mattheo removed one hand from your chest to take your chin in between two fingers, lifting your head to meet his eyes that were already ruining you in his mind. He pressed his body against yours, letting you feel his hardness through his trousers.

"You know I fucking hate you," Mattheo replied through gritted teeth, his ferocity laced with arousal. "Doesn't mean anyone gets a glimpse of what's mine."

Your lips pulled into a smirk contentedly in response, not the least bit intimidated by him. In fact, you were pretty proud to have evoked such a reaction out of him. Sure, maybe you felt afraid for Cormac, but after witnessing Mattheo Riddle get on his knees to beg for your pussy, it had become difficult to take his threats seriously. The man was down bad, and you relished in the way you could reduce him to a needy mess, though he probably felt similar when you turned into a babbling slut every time he made you cum on his cock. If anything, the rage made you just as greedy for him as he was for you.

You took the lead in removing the rest of your top, freeing Mattheo so he could bury his face in your neck, latching on and sucking the skin to leave noticeable, possessive marks. He proceeded to cover you with hot kisses that trailed further down your chest, with each unclasped button giving him more space to work with until your top was fully removed and strewn on the floor with abandon. He sunk to his knees before you, letting you ensnare one hand in his hair to brace yourself as he took the peak of one of your breasts in his mouth, which brought a moan from your lips. Forgetting the animosity and allowing pleasure to take over, you've all but given up on believing that this time would be the last.

#mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle x you #slytherin #slytherin boys

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nogodsnomorales · 11 months

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Know that I am going to get pretty serious here, as this post is about Punkflower. I am going to talk about the age situation, the blatant racism ABOUT this ship, and to also talk about the ship itself*. There is also some talk about the shippers/non-shippers + Punkflower antis in general.

[*nothing negative! just like.. discussing it as a whole, because everybody needs to be aware of some important things. the shippers, non-shippers/people on neutral ground, AND the haters/antis.]

There is a BIG wall of text incoming, but all of it is organized to its very best at what I could do!! I first wrote this in docs, I did my best to make it not a whole chaotic mess to read through. It's a big post, but there's a lot of spacing and some text is coloured, so it will be very easy to read.

This is a very detailed and THROUGH post, so it is slightly recommended to read on computer for the best viewing experience.

[It's not needed as you can still just read on your phone/etc, I do want you lovely people to have the best viewing experience possible.]

There will be an expand button, so I will not clog your feed and the tags.

TDLR;

Dear punkflower shippers,

your prayers have been ANSWERED. DO NOT WORRY ABOUT SHIPPING PUNKFLOWER NOW 🙏

punkflower shippers, do not live in fear no more, for I am here now.

Sincerely,

tumblr user: godunforgiving

Edited Note (06/21); FYI, I am muting this! Read the edit change log at the end of this post for more information. If you have any concerns or inquiries regarding this post, do not hesitate and feel free to DM me!

punkflower talk/analysis(?) + talking about Hobie’s age

This entire post is a discussion of various things, of my own thoughts and opinions! Some of the talk is about the posts + comments I have seen other people say about this ship [mainly questioning and worried ones.] All of the pieces of information that I knew were scattered, so I wanted to gather all of what I could find, and put it in a singular post for those still worrying.

[Also where others can actually just refer to this post and just read thru here first, instead of having to spend a lot of time going through the Punkflower tag to desperately find info!]

I would have gotten this finished and posted days ago, but you know, usual IRL things slowed me down, and I had to spend my day in the ER yesterday, lol.. I’m okay as of now! Just have to take it easy, but I really did want to finish writing my ass off with this post, since I know it’s important to me and for many others out there.

Take your time to read through this, and please absolutely feel free to add any of your input/extra knowledge/anything that I should add onto this post. DMs can be the best, or just through the comments can suffice, because I can and will edit anything into this post [that is accurate aka there is backed up evidence/sources to go along with it.] If you do want to see something added here, just tell me and I'll see if I can manage!

I genuinely hope that this post can be helpful to you, as it will be helpful for me!

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Please know that; I will directly quote from many people, as all of them will be credited properly by being mentioned down below and leaving their username (that is linked back) with their respective quotes, because their own pieces of text really helped build this post! I cannot thank each person enough.

Do not be a piece of shit and go after or ‘witch hunt’ any of them. Respect their own privacy and being.

users mentioned (IOOA): @comfortingnightmare, @luvvnobo, @ghostspider-isms, @saltylemonade13, @artisan-is-bored, @bellamer, @uglynavel, @peachypea0ny (fyi, site is not allowing me to tag), @crownecromancer, @raspberryjars, @spideyzpoolsp, @hamiltonforpowerpoint

[If you are one of the mentioned people, and you want yourself to be removed or become anonymous, please let me know ASAP!]

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Notes:

If you are colourblind (some of the text is coloured fyi! colours used are blue, pink, and purple), or have difficulty reading text due to it being too small, or can't read the font, etc, please let me know! I can give you a google docs link of this entire post that is best suited for your needs. No, you will not be a burden to me. Your needs are very important, and I will want to assist with the best that I can do with that!

I, godunforgiving, am on a mix of a positive + neutral ground on the topic of shipping Punkflower. I absolutely adore the comic!Punkflower, and I am fond of ATSV!Punkflower with the way I view it. Reason why I said neutral, know that I am not against the ships by any means!! But I guess why I say that is because there wasn’t a lot of canon media to consume [ATSV!Punkflower], and I want more [Also note that I have NOT seen the movie yet.] I don’t usually ‘do’ shipping when it comes to various franchises, I guess it’s mainly just not my thing? But I do know that I’ve come to like Punkflower.

I do not ‘do’ discourses, nor do I intend to actively join them! This is my first time doing something like this / this being my first ‘discourse’, yet I hope for it to be my last. I made this post with the pure intention to help the Punkflower shippers. Do know that!! I know that many people do not like the topic of discourses, but this one and the problems I’ve seen revolving around Punkflower, I just have to say something. Bc idk if anybody else is going to [with the way I did this post], considering the mess that occurred days ago, but someone has to and has to do it properly.

I am autistic, so I may process words + information differently, or even ‘incorrectly’. So if a sentence doesn’t make sense, due to perhaps my misuse of grammar, etc, please do not hesitate to ask/reach out, and I can do my best to re-explain it to you.

Negative comments [and comments directly to this post where the person is actually spreading misinfo], will be deleted. Know that if you decide that you disagree with this post, then okay! I am not bothering you, just as I hope that you will revert to ignoring me, instead of hating on me. Please have the common decency to just be kind or even don’t say anything at all, and carry on with your day.

If you have any concerns regarding this post, do not hesitate to reach out to me.

this post was originally inspired by a friend, then originally created for @feuille-morte, but it is finished for the rest of the punkflower fans, ily all. take care of yourselves!! anything for these cute silly little guys ok (and the entire punkflower nation)

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let’s get started with an introduction.

“what is Punkflower?”

Punkflower is a slash [aka queer] relationship between two black male teenagers, Hobie Brown and Miles Morales. Usually, it is perceived a romantic relationship, as some other people only see the pairing as a platonic duo and such. I do not know more forms of Punkflower, but I will use the 'main' two forms in this post. Comic![SG!]Punkflower [SG is Spider-Geddon, a comic series first released on Sept 2018], and Across the Spider-Verse aka ATSV!Punkflower.

Think of it as the same ships with the same characters, but in different fonts.

Comic!SG!Punkflower has existed for nearly 5 years now, likely first existing sometime in late 2018 to early-mid 2019. Both Miles and Hobie are very close in age in the comics, at around 16 to 17 years old. Away from Spider-Geddon(?), but still on the topic of comics, Hobie is still 16-17 in the comics.

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“people are saying Punkflower is a problematic ship!”

The main [and probably only] source of this misinformation, is from a clip that was cropped to be posted with the intention of spreading heavy misinformation (We will get into that next.) So, as far as I am aware, and know; Punkflower antis are throwing around p/do allegations, because they hate the ship and they are outraged with people enjoying it. This hate is clearly rooted with racism, and homophobia. So, no, Punkflower is not a minor x adult ship!

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“the interview talk, what happened, and what is actually real?”

If you’ve watched the interview, you can easily see that they were talking about the brainstorming process of developing Hobie's early ideas for his character. A director mentioned that in the early concept stage, Hobie was originally going to be 19-20 [This wasn’t even our Hobie, but Prowler Hobie.]

A person cut a very small clip of the mentioned interview, and uploaded it, a clip that was EXTREMELY out of context.

The uploader cut out the part explaining that Hobie’s ‘original’ age had changed as his character was being developed.

So from this, and no context given, a lot of people were instantly quick to hate; since it was on purpose to make the entire ship, AND those who enjoyed the ship, look extremely bad. What happened was not okay, yet this disgusting behaviour is at an attempt to be justified [and those people are trying to justify literal racism and homophobia.]

“19-20 thing that the directors mentioned were Hobie’s early designs ideas but those eventually changed as his character changed. Even one of the directors said its up to interpretation plus even his VA was all hinty towards Gwen and hobie so honestly its up to you what his age is" - comfortingnightmare

As soon as the clip came out, I had started to see a number of people saying that, apparently, Hobie looked like he was in his 20s to his 30s** (while also throwing subtle/discreet hits towards the Punkflower ship), but this was after the clip came out.

**Literally saw someone on Tumblr say that he looked like 28, and trying to shut down the idea of Hobie being a teenager. Like be completely serious with me right now..

Things don’t quite add up here. This was because of WHAT Hobie only looked like, and now it just has to be racially motivated, as there are no solid explanations or reasonings for their behaviour and disgust. Those people just look bad [as they should.]

So, no, Hobie is not 19-20. Another director had confirmed that Hobie’s age is UP TO INTERPRETATION.

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[TLDR; The interview got taken completely out of context from a clip that made people start throwing SERIOUS accusations left and right.. Since more people actually later found out that the clip was taken out of context [instead of doing research], the situation died down, but people are walking on eggshells now. The haters were being desperate likely because Punkflower is a black queer/mlm relationship, since there is no solid explanation for this hating.]

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“So.. what can we interpret Hobie’s age as?”

That is where I come in! I have many reasons that can help you decide what Hobie's age is to you. And those many reasons are speculated on Hobie's age being 16-17, as many users already guess that Hobie's age is equivalent to a teenager's age. I also believe this idea, as there are many things that already support this thought process.

[But if you like.. (god, I hope nobody does) go through this list and conclude that Hobie is 18+ and continue to ship that Hobie and 15 yr old Miles (or any of the minors).. GTFOH.]

1. Hobie Brown in other media (I’m talking about the comics for instance) is commonly shown for Hobie to be a teenager at either 16 or 17 years old.

“Hobie is in fact labeled as ‘badmouthed teenager’ since 2014 and is 16-17 in the comics and that just because he doesnt have a confirmed/canonical age in ATSV, hes still in the age range of a teenager (16-18)" - luvvnobo

2. Topic of the spider-bite.

ATSV!Hobie is likely to be 16-17 years old (18 at the latest), meaning that he would have been bit at the ages of 13-15. So IF Hobie was bit 3 years ago / at 14 years old, then he would be 16-17.

Realistically, this really could have happened, considering Hobie’s living conditions! [aka what led to Hobie getting bit by a radioactive spider in the comics.] If he indeed gets bit at 14 years old (like how Miles and Gwen got bit at that age for example), then either 16 or 17 yrs old.

Again, with how he lived; if he got bit at 13 = 15-16 years old in crrnt events of ATSV. [If you don’t know of Hobie’s conditions, in the comics I’m pretty sure he, like, basically lived on the streets as a homeless teenager]

“During the "Spider-Verse" storyline, the Earth-138 version of Spider-Man is revealed to be Hobart Brown, originally operating as Spider-Punk. He is a homeless teenager who was transformed by a spider that was irradiated as part of President Norman Osborn's toxic waste dumping.” - Spider-Punk: Wikipedia

The topic of the bite / needing to know if Hobie was (x) age when he got bit, isn’t very serious, as he is already grouped with 3 kids.

3. It would be unlikely (and also weird) for a four man crew to be 3/4 teenagers and 1 adult;

WHILE ALSO implying that the mentioned ‘adult’ and one of the mentioned teenagers could’ve had something going on. [Even if nothing really happened (keyword = implying), and how Pavitr treated it in that way, implies that Hobie isn’t that much older than the three.] [I would have kept this reason combined with the Spider bite topic aka reason No.2, since it’s actually referenced off of pastelnightgale’s post, just that this paragraph alone is solid enough as a separate reason.]

4. Hobie’s mannerisms.

Note, I haven’t seen the movie, but I have seen many clips. From those clips, he’s definitely a teenager at least, it made me feel like Hobie was 16 or 17 years old. I’ve asked two of my brothers; they said that he definitely was their age [both being 17.]

“my two cents on the age debate is like. hobie doesn’t have the vibes of an adult even if his age is up to “interpretation”. like i’m eighteen and bro has definitely gotta be younger than that. he makes my “stupid younger sibling” sense go haywire." - ghostspider-isms

5. If you look up “how old is hobie brown”

You will already see many people speculating that Hobie is likely to be around the same age range as Miles and Gwen [if not a bit older.]

Again, Hobie is already 16-17 years old in the comics.

“in the spiderverse, we have seen that it is common for most spiders (gwen and miles specifically) to get bitten around 14. hobie states he’s been spider-man for three years, meaning he’s most likely 16-17." - artisan-is-bored

6. “Like if Hobie is really 19+ then why is it only a problem with Punkflower?? Wouldn’t the whole love triangle thing be a problem????" - saltylemonade13

Yes. It would be a SERIOUS problem. It also would make the other ships [Chaipunk, others with minors in them] very problematic and illegal ships. But Hobie isn't 18+.

7. Ageing down process happening to various characters in Spider Verse, and Hobie non affected?

If Gwen and the other spiders are aged down in Spiderverse, then it doesn’t make sense that Hobie was not aged down like the others.

8. Hobie literally hangs out around teenagers.

If an adult is constantly hanging out with other children, then that obviously would be the first problem. I wouldn’t really need to keep talking any more about this one. Because if a 19-20 year old was spending a majority of his time around young teenagers, ages ranging 15 through 17, and not really with anybody else his age or above, then yes, that’s already weird.

“it’s also implied that miles is jealous of gwen and hobie. why would the directors make a key plot point of the story be that hobie is a grown ass man hanging out with a bunch of teenagers? and that he might have a thing with one of them???" - artisan-is-bored

9. Genetics do not matter within age.

This is one of my most common quotes by now. Hobie is indeed very tall at almost 6 ft, yes. No, it does not mean that he is above 18+ years old. Hobie can be over 6 ft tall and still be 16-17 years old.

I have seen so many teenagers at drastically different heights, but still be the same age. Many of them being over 6 ft [180 cm], and still being in my age range, and having met a 5’10” 8th grader [aka 13 yrs old] years ago. Both of my previously-mentioned brothers are 6 ft and over 6 ft, yet they are only 17.

“people can look one age and be another." - artisan-is-bored

“hobie’s description as a character. hobie is a foul mouthed TEENAGER. that has been his description for the past five years." - artisan-is-bored

10. “how do i tell them Punkflower has been a thing since 2018 or 2019 and they have interacted in the comics (they are close in age)" - luvvnobo

11. “He has to be an adult, because he goes to pubs!!” Let’s be absolutely HONEST here.

“dude is BFF’s with the Riri of his universe, she can probably whip up a fake ID in no time and even if Riri isn’t in the Spiderverse, he still gets around and knows people. he’s definitely cool with someone who makes fake ID’s." - bellamer

What bellamer said. To add onto this, a pub is different from a BAR as well.

If you look up “what is a pub vs bar” your first result will be this.

To also add, all bars in England aren’t considered pubs.

“If you’re 16 or under, you may be able to go to a pub (or premises primarily used to sell alcohol) if you’re accompanied by an adult. However, this isn’t always the case. It can also depend on the specific conditions for that premises. It’s illegal to give alcohol to children under 5." From the official GOV of the UK website

But literally, let’s be honest here, Hobie would already know at least one person who will help him get in a pub, if he cannot do so himself. If Hobie is constantly going to pubs, then that does not mean he is getting drinks 24/7 when he is there, unless stated otherwise. Pubs focus on serving food and to give drinks [upon request] to go along with the meal.

Before 1995, children under the age of 14 were NOT allowed in pubs in England and Wales. And Hobie is definitely by no means 14. He is likely 16, or 17. He can already drink, with adult supervision, at 16 in pubs. But we know that Hobie is no law-abiding Spider-man.

12. “Hobie wouldn’t be able to own his own place!”

“it’s a key part of hobie’s comic backstory that he used to be homeless. once again, the breaking the law point still stands. wouldn’t be surprised if hobie bought an apartment with a fake ID, was squatting, or was staying in some sort equivalent of the community center that he used as his main group’s operation headquarters in the comics.” - artisan-is-bored

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I do not think that another director/anybody who worked on the movie will come out and say that Hobie is actually 18+ at this point. I CAN be wrong in the future, but right now, he is not, and there are my reasons for why I strongly agree with the idea of Hobie being a teenager.

ALTHOUGH, even IF a director comes out and says that ATSV!Hobie is actually 18+, obviously all of the ATSV!ships with him and the other minors should STOP RIGHT NOW. But as of now [06/13/23 (when I first wrote this)], and from what we already know, I do not see anything wrong with ATSV!Punkflower and my views.

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The racism revolving Punkflower is disgusting.

I’ve seen a lot of people bashing Punkflower when the whole misinfo-hobie-being-19/20-situation occurred, but ONLY with Punkflower [from what I’ve seen.] I didn’t see any of this happening to the other ships that Hobie is in / shipped with Gwen, and Pavitr.

I have not seen any, quite literally nobody, complaining about any other ship that isn’t Punkflower, and it’s insanely overwhelming and confusing?? People don’t complain when it comes to Hobie x Gwen, but if it’s with two queer black boys? Huge problem all of a sudden.

“Love how when it was Hobie and Gwen no one batted an eye but as soon as people started shipping two black males together all of a sudden everyone’s disgusted and outraged” - uglynavel

“none of y’all had a problem w gwen and hobie, but when hobie started getting shipped with miles and pav? y’all got pissed. get your racist and homophobic head out of your ass. even if hobie IS an adult in the movie, that still doesn’t mean that shipping him with miles in the comics suddenly isn’t valid. newsflash, gwen is MUCH OLDER than hobie in his universe.” - artisan-is-bored

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Other quotes, that I wanted to point out, but I didn’t sort them into a spot;

“There are a lot more weird problems in the ATSV fandom, yet people are worried about Flowerpunk and whether Hobie is of age, or not. Those problems are full on grown ass people sexualizing Miles, Gwen, and likely more. There’s already stuff about Peter B. and Miles ship, and THAT is an active problem on hand. More people need to worry about all of that instead of a guy who has an up-to-interpretation age (but is strongly, likely, a 16-17 year old if not an adult.)” - peachypea0ny

“I can’t even enjoy comic versions of punkflower without me being called a pedo or having multiple fucking comments telling me over and over that punkflower is a proship.” - uglynavel

“I’m sorry it’s just really not fucking fair what In THE ACTUAL MOVIE it can imply something between Gwen and Hobie but the SECOND people started shipping two black boys together then it became a huge fucking problem, here’s the thing if Hobie is actually older and they never say that in the movie but imply something to the audience that him and a sixteen year old girl could possibly have something between them THEN THATS GROSS I DONT CARE HOW GOOD THE MOVIE IS! But Hobie is always, in other crossovers and his comics he is around 16, he has met Miles before in canon the ship’s not new, it was just small.” - crownecromancer (Edited to make sense, by me, godunforgiving.)

“punkflower is originally a comic ship, its been around for ages before atsv, its normal for shippers to crossover into different areas where the same characters are. he doesnt have an age on his wiki and why would he be said to have a love triangle with gwen if he WAS 19/20, idk why ppl have such a problem with punkflower but not with hobie and gwen??” - raspberryjars

“this is what happens when you believe in misinformation on the internet. no, there is no age gap, because hobie does not even have a canon age. if you watch the interview, instead of 10 seconds of it, he says it was early concepts of hobie. another director has confirmed his age is up to interpretation.. so. yall rlly need to stop with this, its weird asl. this whole thing was rooted in racism and homophobia, stop spreading misinformation I BEG.” - spideyzpoolsp

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Another disclaimer/notice;

PLEASE, PLEASE STOP BELIEVING IN EVERYTHING THAT YOU SEE!! EVEN IN TIKTOK OR TUMBLR!

IF it’s a piece of information that could be misinformation revolving around Punkflower or Hobie Brown, or anything, DO find out if it is real or fake asap!

I’m using a method that I remember from my elementary school that was constantly talked about [can’t believe I’d bring it up in a post about a ship years later], however it really does pay out and work anywhere else tbh. The “Stop, Think, Act method”.

STOP = Pause, if it distresses you; then take a breath to calm down, avoid doing anything on impulse aka don't do anything without thinking carefully beforehand.

THINK = Instead of the “what is the problem, what are the options, best path forward?” in the method itself, we will reuse this but change stuff up that can apply directly to this post. So after stopping and calming down, we will think carefully and review what we already KNOW. If it’s where the piece of information is easily seen/known as misinfo, then you are good. If the piece of misinfo is affecting something that we already know, then we move onto the next step.

ACT = “Proceed with the best option. Act carefully, and revise if needed.” The best option forward from thinking, is to do research, and make sure that it is actually real, and not misinformation with lies laced within. IF it is indeed misinformation, then it is the best to alert others, with proof.

If you are thinking “But why even mention that method??” The best example to use this method is with the age discourse blowup. A LOT of people believed in the misinformation very, very fast. What should’ve happened is that the mentioned method should’ve occurred early, to help prevent most of the freak out and its damages. But many users may not have thought of that, or even know the method, so it is okay. At least it calmed down a lot as of now, just that people are now likely afraid.

[Note; I am NOT blaming anybody!! I also freaked out a bit too, but I stuck to what I already knew, until I found more information. At first I heard “Hobie is 19-20!!!!” I figured that it must’ve been misinfo through what I already knew, because adding all of what I knew and this uproar of info, it just didn’t add up from what I alrd knew. but I still researched and did my homework!! Just that more people should naturally second-guess things that they are suspicious of and also be aware of that method and to apply it online, as it is already useful in real life!]

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Wrapping this post up, finally.

It’s sad to see different Punkflower fans fight each other. But it’s also outrageous and annoying to see the plat!Punkflower shippers, who see Miles and Hobie strictly in a brotherly relationship, to throw the term ‘!ncest / pseudo-!ncest’ against the romantical Punkflower shippers.. Like holy shit, that doesn’t make you any better. Can people, please, stop throwing serious accusations against other people so nonchalantly?

These accusations are SO serious and life changing, even if it's pointed at the wrong person. But people are just too ignorant to realize that unfortunately.

“You see him (Hobie) as 19/20 who’s a big brother to the other spiders? Cool! You see him as 16/17 rebel teen amazing!” - hamiltonforpowerpoint

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End post.

Reblogs, likes, and comments of your own opinions of this post are so welcome!

Again, ily all and take care of yourselves!!

and again, if anything you think that should be added onto the post, let me know! have a great day everybody

A friend asked what’s up with the discourse, asked me to make a post, after hours of research - I absolutely fucking DELIVERED. Love you guys.

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Edit #1 (06/15); had to reformat some things since it just looked broken to me! Using the editor on mobile is a PAIN.. 0/10.

Edit #2 (06/16); an edit update! I rewrote some things (to hope to make the post sound more better), added some stuff in the notes section and some throughout the post itself, updated the crediting so the quotes used are credited and linked back to hell!!!! bc crediting others is awesome! and the post is also def over 4.2k words lol

Edit #3 (06/17); An anon told me that I was “misusing” the 'proship' term, so I edited the post. Proshitters can go to hell for all I care. To clarify, I am talking about problematic shippers. Edit #4 (06/19); oh my god 600+ notes?? i hope all of you are having an EXCELLENT month okay.. i love you guys <3 /plat

Edit #5 (06/21); I am muting this! I saw some people reply to this post, but I just do not have the ability to respond to them (Selective mutism), I did write “drafts” to them, but I do not feel like polishing it and responding. Just busy with other things, honestly! I may end up responding some time later, so yeah. If you have any concerns or inquiries regarding this post, do not hesitate and feel free to DM me!

Every once a few weeks I may check up on this post as well, until I stop altogether.

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your-turn-to-role · 1 year

Text

also. i absolutely adored what lovm did with the pass through fire quote

but then it makes me emotional about the original context, so i have to share that too (minor plot spoilers ahead)

because it wasn't originally to do with the ashari at all. it was from patrick rothfuss' guest character, a blacksmith named kerrek, who helped vox machina fight against the dragon in westruun, and helped keyleth personally through some difficult stuff (he may yet appear on lovm, but given the context of the quote now i doubt we'll get all of it)

and a little after kerrek's episode, patrick rothfuss actually made a legit letter from kerrek to keyleth, with a present inside, and left it with matt until whatever point in the plot she was able to recieve it

which by coincidence was one of the hardest moments in the whole campaign for her

and this letter had marisha legit crying in the episode, because it's just. so beautiful, and so needed. and it goes:

Keyleth,

I write to let you and your companions know that the repair of Westruun is proceeding well. I will not bore you with the details. Suffice to say that our children are well-fed and safe, our elderly and infirm are cared for and comfortable. Without the help of you and yours, this would not be the case.

The folk in charge argue constantly, but that is to be expected, and it is no bad thing. They all want the same good things in different ways. I listen, mostly, and do what I can to make sure that they listen to each other. Without listening, nothing good can happen.

The town... when I say the repair is going well, it is a hard thing for me to talk about. I am not a particularly clever man, and much of this is new to me. When you make a mistake with metal, you can melt things down and start afresh. It is irritating, and it costs in time and soot and sweat, but it can be done. There is a comfort in iron, knowing that a fresh start is always possible. But a city is not a sword. It is a living thing, and living things defy simple fixing. Roots cannot be reforged. They scar, and broken branches must be cut and sealed with tar, and this makes me angry, as it always has, and my anger has no place to go.

It was easier when I was young. I could use my anger like a hammer against the world. I was so sure of myself and my friends and my rightness. I would hammer at the world, and breaking felt like making to me, and I was good at it. And while I was not wrong, neither was I entirely right. Nothing is simple.

I do not work in wood. I am not brave enough for that. There is a comfort in iron, a promise of safety, a second chance if mistakes are made. But a city is more a forest than a sword. No, it needs more tending than that.

Perhaps a city is like a garden, then. So these days, it seems I have become a gardener. I dig foundations in the earth. I sow rows of houses. I plan and plant. I watch the skies for rain and ruin. I cannot help but think that you would be better at this, but circumstance has put both of us in our own odd place. You are forced to be a hammer in the world, and my ungentle hands are learning how to tend a plot of land. We must do what we can do.

Did you know that there are some seeds that cannot sprout unless they are first burned? A friend once told me that. She was... she was a bookish sort. I think of gardening constantly these days. I wear your gift, and I think of you, and I think it is interesting that there are some living things that need to pass through fire before they flourish.

I ramble. You have the heart of a gardener, and because of this, you think of consequence, and your current path pains you. I am not wise, and I do not give advice, but I have come to know a few things: sometimes breaking is making. Even iron can start again. And there are many things that move through fire and find themselves much better for it afterward.

I have enclosed a gift. Once it was a sword, but it has changed. It is a small thing, and silly. Please forgive an old man for his foolishness. Still, I hope it brings you some small comfort.

Kindly, Kerr.

and the present inside the envelope? a ring, engraved with the phrase "I have passed through fire."

#hi i saw a gifset of marisha getting the ring and im emotional again so have the full letter #god patrick rothfuss i know you're a professional writer but how are you so good at this #cr1 #the legend of vox machina #keyleth #kerrek #cr thoughts

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persefolli · 1 year

Text

𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐅𝐒

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐬. 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫. 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭(𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧?,𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 "𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲", 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦), 𝐚𝐠𝐞-𝐠𝐚𝐩, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲,𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧!𝐣𝐚𝐤𝐞

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“FUCK!” You slapped your hand against your head. You had failed to train your ilu properly, resulting in 3 rounds of losing the race against the Sully kids and the Metkayina kids.

“Hit me.” You stretched out your arms, ready for the punishment. They looked at each other mischievously.

“Every month our dads go to the forest.” Lo’ak started.

“They always force us to go camping. And it's really, really boring.” Kiri said, sticking her tongue out and rolling her eyes.

“We wanna stay at the reef for the big bonfire we always miss when we go. So you're gonna cover for us.”

You huffed, “How am I gonna substitute for 6 kids?!”

“Don't know, make it happen. Ao’nung said.

You managed to build the courage to ask Tonowari to accompany their trip to the forest, a little lying sufficed, saying that you had never seen the forest and you wanted to gain a broader experience. You opted to ask Tonowari since Jake was the scary one. He agreed, saying you could take over the jobs the kids usually did, “so you would be occupied.”

The ride towards the forest was silent, especially since you were upset knowing you were missing the bonfire for the first time. Kiri and Tsireya would be out there dancing and having fun while you were in the middle of the forest carving sticks. The arrival was just as bleak as you imagined, well, the forest was beautiful, the plants and the trees were really different from those on the reef. But you were immediately tasked with building a tent, you didn't even know what a tent was.

Jake explained it came from the ship of one of the Sky People, and it's a temporary shelter for those who chose to stay out at night. Easy enough, right? Nope. All day, you struggled with setting up the tent, because it would eventually fall down back into pieces. “You have to nail it into the ground!” Jake snapped at you. You flinched and allowed him to take the tools from your hands, simply nailing the ends of the tent into the forest ground. When he finished he threw the tools to the side and sent you to Tonowari, who tasked you with getting dinner.

You weren't bad at fishing considering you were from the reef, but maybe Eywa had other plans. The fish were skinny as hell, so it wouldn't be enough to fill two grown na'vi warriors and a glutton like yourself. You ended up catching around 6 fish, which you allowed Jake and Tonowari to eat on their own while you opted for the fruit you had packed.

So far, not good

Tonowari noticed as the days went, the more sluggish you got. You became less vocal, and became more autonomic with the tasks they gave you. “Y/n it's not that bad. You were due to learn survival skills eventually.” Tonowari approached you while fishing. You stayed silent, and treaded your hands in the water. “We know you don't wanna be here but we want you to leave here with something.”

Silence.

Tonowari sighed and walked to the edge of the riverbank, squatting really close to you. “Why would you accept the bet if you were gonna be like this?” You snapped your head up to look at him. You had no idea he knew that it was all just a bet, but if he knew it was no harm in telling him. “Well, first off I didn't have a choice.”

“You could've always chickened.”

You glared at him before continuing. “I would've been more than happy to come if it wasn't just me. But I guess they knew how much of dick Jake was and threw me under.” Tonowari shifted his head then nodded in understanding. You felt a little bad for calling his best friend a dick, but it had to be said.

Things seemed to shift in the next few hours. You came back from fishing and Jake couldn't be bothered to fool with you. He didn't snap at you to do anything, build anything, or retrieve anything. Maybe Tonowari talked some sense into him. The newfound free time was spent scavenging around the forest, grabbing at new plants and animals. The forest was amazing, no wonder the Sully kids rejected the reef at first.

“Y/n!” Jake yelled in the distance. You groaned and made your way back to the campsite, where Jake stood holding a bow and a few arrows. “Let's go.” You followed him through the forest, where he was seemingly tracking some creature. “Here.” He stopped, and made his mark behind some brushes. He pointed past the brush at a viper wolf, and handed you the bow. You rolled your eyes and practically snatched the bow from his hands. As you aimed at the wolf, Jake began talking. “You're not enjoying yourself?” He said more as a statement rather than a question. You ignored him, and kept your focus on the viperwolf.

“You would really rather be back on the reef having random guys feel you up at a stupid bonfire?”

You shot, and missed, “It would be better than being stuck in a forest with two grandpas, who think staring at trees all day is a valuable life skill.” You snapped at him. Jake's lip twitched, eventually breaking into a smirk. “Grandpas?”

“Old men! Grandpas! Whatever you call it.”

He grabbed the bow to your hands and began walking again, tracking another scent. He finally stopped again, handing you the bow and pointed at a bird-like creature. You squatted, legs slightly parted as you held the bow in your hand. Jake crouched right behind you, breath tickling the back of your neck. Admittedly he was making it very hard to focus. You took in a deep breath, and focused back on the animal that sat peacefully ahead. Before you could draw the bow, you felt Jake's hand on your ass. “Mr. Sully.” You gasped.

“Focus on the target!” He hissed. You did as told, and drew your bow, releasing it and missing the creature. The creature remained unphased, not even noticing the near missed arrow. “At your age, I didn't miss.” He said sourly into your ear. The warmth his hand radiated on your backside sent feelings coursing through your body. Slowly beginning to get turned on. “Again.” You placed your arrow against the bow again, and took in a deep breath. His hand moved to rest on your thigh, and his other hand began cupping your ass. You turned to look at him, but he nodded his head forward. You drew your arrow back, released it, and hit the creature right in its head. “Now that wasn't so hard was it.” He said, not moving from the very inconvenient position you were in.

“Jake.” You muttered. “What? This isn't any different to the bonfire.”

“At least the guys there knew how to touch me.” You egged him on. You saw his face drop, wrinkles around his eyes smoothing out.

“Knew how to touch you like this?” His hand reached beyond your loin cloth and grazed your folds. “Mhm.” You groaned silently. He ran his fingers over your pussy, eventually teasing your entrance with his index finger. “Do you usually get this wet? Hm?”

“No Mr. Sully.” You whimpered.

“That right? Getting creamy and wet just off my fingers. Thought those other guys knew how to touch you.” Your heartbeat quickened as you made eye contact with the aged man. This was wrong, all the way wrong. Especially for someone who was old enough to be your own father. He inched his middle finger inside of your hole, pumping it in and out as he coaxed you. “That's why you came on this trip right? So I can play in this pussy?”

“N-no.” You stammered. You had never heard Jake get so vulgar, never in front of you. You now knew how he got so many kids out of Neytiri, he was a natural.

Jake removed his fingers and sucked your slick off of his two fingers, leaving you weak and whiny. “Come.” He yanked you by the wrist and led you back to the single camp site, where Tonowari sat throwing wood into the fire for the night. Jake dragged you right into the tent, and threw you down onto the mat. He then walked outside, and said something to Tonowari, which you didn't hear due to the blood pumping in your ears. Jake entered, then Tonowari, zipping the tent closed behind him. Tonowari stood waiting. Jake then kneeled and flipped your cloth over, exposing your pussy to the older and taller na’vi. “She calls me a dick behind my back, and calls us old in front of my face.”

“But look at how wet she is.” Tonowari said, dropping to his knees.

“Exactly. See how wet this grandpa made her. She didnt want to learn shit she just wanted to be fucked.” Jake said sourly, almost angry.

“I figured something was off with her.” Tonowari said. He leaned forward and positioned himself so he was laying down with his face between your legs. “Well this old man is gonna show you how to get things done.” Tonowari buried his face in your pussy, catching your clit between his lips. You yelped, feeling the wet warmth and pressure being applied to your bud. You closed your eyes and pathetically spread your legs more, allowing Tonowari to bury himself deeper. “So good.” He licked up your entrance, placing a kiss on your clit. “How tight is she?” Jake asked from beside you. Tonowari pushed his thick wet tongue inside of your entrance. “Wari!” You exclaimed.

“So tight.” He responded to Jake. He continued to thrust his tongue in your pussy, slobbering and animatedly kissing all over your folds. “Mmm…wari…gonna come!” You grabbed the back of his head and began bucking your hips into him. He removed his tongue from your hole and rested it on your clit swiftly, beginning to flick his muscle against your clit in a battle to make you come. “Ooh! Fuck just like that!” You shrieked, raising your legs high in the air and shaking. “Yes! Yes! Yes! I'm gonna fucking come.” You screamed one last time before convulsing and cumming on his face.

Tonowari rose to his knees and looked at Jake, shamelessly with your slick all over his face. The two of them said nothing, but seemed to communicate with just their eyes. Tonowari moved to sit above your head, and Jake took refuge in the spot between your legs. Jake flipped you around, so that you were now on your hands and knees, facing Tonowari.

Tonowari smiled at you, before whipping out his thick cock and slapping the tip against your nose. Jake took hold of your tail and moved it aside as his hand grazed along your ass. “Look at what you've gotten yourself into.” Jake snarled. “Alone in the middle of nowhere being slutted out by your best friends' dads.” He began running his thumb over your wet hole, teasing it.

“For your sake I hope they never find out.” Tonowari joined in. “They won't!” You whimpered. The flutter in your stomach was jumping from guilt to horniness. The confusion made you all the more wet. “I know baby girl. you know how much trouble we would get in? We don't want any trouble do we?” Jake pulled your head back to look at him. “No. No trouble.”

Jake laughed and pushed your head back down to Tonowari. “Had her pussy eaten once and lost all common sense.”

Tonowari grabbed your hair and pulled upwards so your mouth hovered right over his dick. “Be a good girl and suck it.” He pushed his cock between your lips and you gasped. You placed one hand on his thigh to hold yourself up, and the other wrapped around the base of his cock. You began to swirl your tongue around the tip, feeling the shudder in his thighs, but he yanked you up by the hair and snarled. “I said suck, not this licking bullshit.”

Jake on the other end was playing in your folds with his tip. Slapping your pussy with it a few times before snapping his hips forward, you gasped, and opened your mouth wider which Tonowari took advantage of. Jake began thrusting, holding your hips tight. “M’Jake!” You moaned around Wari’s cock. A burst of energy flowed through your veins and you began sucking on his dick more passionately. “Take your time baby. Don't let him provoke you.” He moved a few strands of hair out of your face and guided your head to slowly bob against him. You tested your luck, and pushed all the way down so your nose was buried in his pelvis. “Oh fuck!” He hissed, feeling his dick curve around the shape of your throat.. You rose again, releasing his dick with a pop. “You’ve done this before haven't you?”

“Mhm.” You tilted your head around him and began suckling the side of his dick, flashing your tongue every once in a while.

Jake groaned behind you, thrusting harshly and digging his fingers into your sides. “You're so fucking tight.” He seethed though his teeth. He slid one of his hands over your ass and dipped his thumb into your other hole, emitting a gasp from you. “Ah fuck such a pretty little slut.” Jake closed his eyes. “Letting me fuck the shit out of your sloppy little hole.” You moaned, beginning to bounce harder off of Jake and his dick. He spat more discrepancies, making you more wet and easy to slide into. You felt so nasty, so fucking nasty.

“You like that? having Toruk Makto fuck you?'' Tonowari cooed. You nodded your head, bobbing on him in the process.

“I can’t hear you.”

“I love Toruk Makto fucking me!” You said muffled on his cock. “Really? and what else?”

“I love sucking your dick.” You smiled and licked around his tip, causing him to grumble.

“Fuck! Need her.” Jake said to Tonowari. Tonowari pulled you off his dick, and allowed Jake to pull you away from him. He pushed you down into the mat, so that your ass was now up and at em. He began rutting into you, pulling you back against him harshly. “Fuck!Fuck!Fuck! Jake! Fuck me!” You changed as you felt a ball of tightness build in your gut, ready to burst at any moment.

Jake let out a loud and long groan. “Want me to fill you up, huh? wanna walk around with my cum in your pussy?”

“Yes Mr.Sully! Please fill me up daddy!” You whimpered as he thrusted harder, blurring the pauses between each bounce against each other. A loud yell, and a groan, and he had came. You felt him fill you slowly.

He pulled out, making you shudder from the loss of contact. You felt his seed dribble down your pussy and onto the mat below. Once again your head was being yanked up, and this time Tonowari was standing. He smacked his dick against your lips before tugging at himself. “Fuck you're such a good girl for me.” He moaned and dragged your bottom lip down with his thumb. His eyebrows were furrowed, and his thighs tense. “Tell me you've been a good girl.”

“I've been a good girl Wari.” You moaned, watching him begin to leak in front of you. “Tell me again.”

You purred and leaned into him so his fist was pumping right above your face. “I've been such a good girl daddy.”

“Yes you have.” he managed to groan before cumming. He grabbed your face and slowly tugged his dick to milk himself dry. You smiled and happily accepted his thick ropes of cum on your face.

Jake walked over to you, having cleaned himself up. He smiled and looked at you adoringly, ignoring his friend's release on your face. He bent down and traced his thumb along your lips.

“Now, camping isn't so bad isn't it?”

#persefolli #persefolliwrites #Wattpad #jake sully x reader #jake sully #tonowari x reader #tonowari #avatar2 #avatar the way of water #ATWOW

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m1ckeyb3rry · 2 months

Text

── THE GLASS PRINCESS // THREE

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: You have your first day at the Royal Fire Academy, where you meet the other girls, including Kaho.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 5.1k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: zuko in his letters (sage, wise, cool and collected) vs zuko irl (SOO fucking awkward)

To His Royal Highness The Prince Zuko,

I apologize for my earlier language. In truth, it feels strange for me to speak to you as if you were my friend. I think that it is because you are my benefactor, and a prince besides, so there is a need for formal and proper conduct. We have that kind of relationship, if you can see it from my perspective.

Your offer of help is greatly appreciated, though I am not quite sure what I have done to deserve it. I shall try to solve my troubles on my own, when I can, but if it should come to it, I will try to remember that I have the prince of the Fire Nation on my side. I wonder how many girls at the academy can claim that, indeed!

Anyways, my roommate is nice. Her name is Jia-Li, and she is self-reportedly average, but all told, we get along well enough. I wish I could say the same for the rest of my classmates — barring, naturally, Ty Lee — but I am afraid to report that we already do not get along. There is this one girl, Kaho, who has a specific grudge against me, despite my attempts at avoiding that outcome…but I should not bore you with the details. Suffice to say that not everyone is as kind as Jia-Li and Ty Lee and Mai and you have been. It is as Jia-Li said, though: two true friends are better than ten false ones. It does not upset me (though it might if I am challenged to an Agni Kai!)

Thank you for feeding Bian. She did seem pleased when she returned to the aviary at the academy. I also gave her a treat. By the way, the falconer said she was supposed to be yours. Is that true? If it is, then I do not think that I deserve such a creature, though of course I thank you for giving her to me anyways. She is very beautiful and possesses a gentle heart, which is a solace in the more trying times.

Ever Your Highness’s humble and obedient servant Sincerely, Ursa

P.S. I am sorry to say that I still do not recall anything about my past. I shall keep you updated if that changes.

You were up before Jia-Li, nervous energy thrumming through you in anticipation for the first day of classes. Ty Lee had stayed late into the night, and then you had spent the candle Jia-Li had lit for you writing to Prince Zuko, so you hadn’t had any time to read or prepare for lessons.

“Ugh,” Jia-Li groaned when you threw open the curtains, the rising sunlight filtering into the room, a beam landing directly on her face, which she promptly covered with a pillow. “What are you doing?”

“You’re a Firebender, aren’t you? Don’t you all rise with the sun anyways?” you said.

“I don’t know who told you that, but they were full of bullshit,” Jia-Li said. “I rise after I’ve had a full night’s rest, which I have not yet.”

“Breakfast is soon,” you said, pulling on your shoes. “You’ll miss it if you don’t get ready now, and then you’ll have to go to class on an empty stomach. I’m sure that doesn’t sound appealing.”

“On second thoughts, I miss not having a roommate,” Jia-Li said, though she did toss aside her pillow and roll out of the bed, thudding to the ground and shoving her feet in a pair of fluffy slippers. Her hair stuck up every which way, and there were bags under her half-lidded eyes as she trudged past you to her vanity table. “You can go ahead and meet Ty Lee in the dining hall now, if you want. I’ll come down later.”

“Do you think she’ll be there already?” you said.

“Yeah,” Jia-Li said. “That girl is the epitome of a morning person. She’s probably been anxiously waiting for you for a while now.”

“Then I shouldn’t keep her waiting any longer,” you said. “See you in class, Jia-Li.”

“See you, Ursa,” she said.

As Jia-Li had predicted, Ty Lee was waiting outside of the door to the dining hall, where all of the girls who boarded at the academy had their meals. She was playing with her fingers nervously, but when she saw you, she bloomed with joy, dancing over to stand beside you.

“Good morning! Are you ready for our first day?” she trilled.

“Not at all,” you said. “I didn’t have any time to read yesterday. I don’t know anything. If the teacher calls on me, I’ll be lost.”

“It’ll be fine,” Ty Lee said, putting a piece of bread on her plate and spreading something on its fluffy surface. “We’re new, so we’ll probably get away with sitting in the back and doing the bare minimum.”

“Let’s hope so,” you said, copying her, trusting her to know what was and wasn’t good to eat at the school. She flounced to the end of the table, and you followed her, sitting across from her so that you two could talk.

“Ty Lee!” a girl said. “Come sit with us!”

“No, sit with us!” another said.

“We asked first!” the first girl said.

“So? She obviously likes us more, we’re way hotter!” the second argued. They began to squabble as you gave Ty Lee a bewildered look.

“What is going on?” you said.

“Besides Kaho, almost everyone at the school liked me…” she said awkwardly. “I guess you could say I was popular! Everyone’s happy I’m back.”

“Looks like it,” you said, baffled at just how many people were trying to claim the spot at Ty Lee’s side. Thankfully, none of them tried to take your space, though you got your own share of dirty glares, which you could only cock your head at in confusion.

“Guys, go away. I’m trying to hang out with my friend from the palace, Ursa,” Ty Lee said.

“What was she there, a servant?” one of the girls said. You glanced down at your clothes, which were the same uniform as everyone else, and then you swallowed. Unlike the other girls, with their expensive hair ribbons and jewelry, you didn’t have anything to your name that marked you as a daughter of nobility — because you weren’t one. It was a safe assumption for the girl to make, and it was even one you’d made about yourself in the past, so why did it hurt your feelings that she had said such a thing?

“Hey!” Ty Lee said. “She’s a friend of the prince — I mean, the princess! Yeah, that’s right, she’s Azula’s friend!”

Immediately, the girls scrambled away from you, and the one who had called you a servant paled. Dropping to her knees before Ty Lee, she bowed her head.

“I am so, so sorry. I didn’t mean any disrespect to a friend of Princess Azula’s!” she said.

“Apologize to Ursa,” Ty Lee said, chipper again now that she had found some kind of justice for you.

“It’s fine, Ty Lee. I can see why she thought that, so I’m not upset,” you said. The girl took the opportunity to leap to her feet and race to the other side of the table, the others following suit at the reminder of the princess.

“Those girls are all jerks,” Ty Lee said once you were alone again. “I’m sorry she was talking about you like that.”

“It’s not something you should say sorry for,” you said. “You didn’t do it. Anyways, I was expecting it; Jia-Li told me that the girls aren’t that nice, so it’s not a surprise. The real question is why you claimed my association to be with the princess instead of the prince.”

“Oh, that’s an easy one to answer,” she said. “They all remember Azula from when she attended, so she’s a more concrete threat in their minds. Only a few of them have met Zuko, and he’s been banished for a while, so his name doesn’t carry as much weight. Besides, if you’re associated with one member of the royal family, you’re associated with all of them, so I wasn’t technically wrong.”

“Alright,” you said, forcing yourself to chew on your food, even though it felt heavy and leaden in your mouth. It wasn’t a question of taste; somewhere, in the back of your mind, you could tell that you would ordinarily like eating this. It was your nerves which were ruining the experience, which made your tongue stiff and your jaw tight. You knew, though, that you needed food in order to have energy for the day, so you made yourself eat it despite your misgivings, despite the mental labor that even the mere act of swallowing took.

The classroom was small, which made sense, considering there were only a few girls in your year. What didn’t make sense was that the two desks in the very front were left open, though you had an inkling that one specific person had something to do with it.

“Ty Lee. Ursa,” a girl said. Her hair was pin straight and dark, half of it tied up with a white-and-gold ribbon, the rest falling around her shoulders, her midnight eyes reflecting the torches hanging around the classroom. “We saved you two seats.”

“Kaho,” Ty Lee said through gritted teeth. “You shouldn’t have.”

“I know,” Kaho said. “You can say I did it out of the goodness of my own heart.”

“Like I said,” Ty Lee said. “You shouldn’t have.”

“Thank you,” you said softly, not wanting to get into an argument with the very girl Jia-Li had warned you about last night.

“See,” Kaho said. “At least one of you has proper manners. Though, to be honest, I would’ve expected the daughter of a nobleman to be raised better than the girl that the prince found in the trash.”

“She wasn’t found in the trash!” Ty Lee said.

“Wasn’t she?” Kaho said.

“You can let it be, Ty Lee. It’s fine,” you said. “Let’s just sit down before the Etiquette Mistress gets here.”

Your first class was on the proper etiquette to have in polite society. Considering the many subtleties of etiquette, this was something you were nervous for, as you had no idea how to behave in polite society, or what any of that meant in the first place. It seemed that the others expected as much, for there was a multitude of snickers as you sat in the very front and waited for the Etiquette Mistress to arrive.

“Wonderful, everyone is on time!” the Etiquette Mistress said as she walked in exactly at the second class had to start. She was a neatly dressed and perfectly put together woman, with not even an eyelash out of place. “Let’s begin promptly with a review from our last class. Who can tell me what the three pillars of etiquette are?” She scanned the room, but only one girl had her hand raised. “Kaho?”

“Respect, consideration, and punctuality,” Kaho said, smirking as she folded her hands in her lap. The Etiquette Mistress did not frown, but the corners of her mouth threatened to tug downwards, and before you could think about it, you were raising your own hand.

“Ursa?” the Etiquette Mistress said. “Do you have something else to add?”

“It’s a common misconception that punctuality is a pillar of etiquette. However, in truth, it is not a pillar unto itself but rather a natural development and extension of the pillars of respect and consideration,” you said, though you had no idea where the words were coming from, only that some long-dormant knowledge of yours was bubbling to the surface. “The third pillar is actually honesty, madam, though of course honesty does not imply brutality but tact, benevolence, and integrity.”

Everyone in the room was silent. You could feel Kaho’s eyes boring holes into your back, but you stared steadily ahead, waiting for the Etiquette Mistress to react.

She smiled slightly. “That is correct. I also appreciate that you addressed me with a title; it demonstrates an elegant sort of etiquette that a lady must be born with or else have studied in depth from a young age.”

“Thank you, madam,” you said. The Etiquette Mistress nodded before turning to the board so that she could continue to teach you a lesson on which utensils to use for which meal.

This, too, you excelled in. You were the only student who knew when to use each utensil, even during the trick questions that the Etiquette Mistress threw out to trip you up. With every subsequent test passed, you felt your approval in the eyes of the Etiquette Mistress rising, though it was rapidly falling amongst your classmates, especially Kaho, who must’ve once been the star of the class.

“I thought you said you didn’t have time to study!” Ty Lee hissed once the Etiquette Mistress had left and you all were given a five minute break before the History Mistress arrived.

“I didn’t,” you said.

“Huh? Then how’d you manage to answer her questions so perfectly?” she said.

“I’m not sure. I just knew it already, somehow,” you said.

“Looks like Prince Zuko has a keen eye,” Kaho said from behind you. “To find the diamond amongst the sludge.”

For some reason, even though she was calling you a diamond, it didn’t feel like much of a compliment. Ty Lee seemed to agree, her kind, open face closing into a dark scowl.

“Kaho, you should just shut up,” she said.

“Is that a challenge?” Kaho said.

“It could be, but don’t forget that I’m one of Azula’s most trusted comrades. Is that a fight you think you could win?” Ty Lee said. Kaho seemed furious, but she had no argument, not when Ty Lee was objectively correct.

“The History Mistress will be here soon,” Jia-Li interjected, trying to break the tension. “Let’s forget about all of this and move on.”

“Sozin’s beard, Jia-Li, nobody cares about history,” Kaho said, rolling her eyes. “Just sit in the back and keep quiet like usual.”

Jia-Li stuck her tongue out at Kaho when the other turned away, but you noticed she did not stand up for herself. Ty Lee was the only one who was brave enough to say anything, and even then, you wondered how much of it was false bravado and how much of it was genuine self-confidence.

“Good morning, class,” the History Mistress said.

“Good morning, History Mistress,” you all chorused in unison.

“Today, we will be learning about an event that occurred relatively recently, but will definitely be written down in the history books in the years to come: Prince Zuko’s defeat of Ba Sing Se,” she said.

Ba Sing Se — it was where the prince had found you. You knew that the city had, at some point, fallen to the Fire Nation, but you didn’t know what had happened or how it had happened. This was definitely a topic of some personal interest to you, and you could not help leaning forward in your seat a bit.

“I thought we might go over this, since we now have a personal connection to it in the class,” the History Mistress said. “Namely, Ursa, who was found by Prince Zuko during the invasion.”

The entire class turned to look at you as the History Mistress began to draw a diagram on the board. The weight of their gazes was a suffocating burden, but you did not afford them the privilege of seeing you crumple, for you knew that you had to, in some way, remain strong, lest they pounce upon your perceived weakness.

“During his hunt for the Avatar, Prince Zuko and his uncle, the former General Iroh, found themselves separated from their ship and amongst Earth Kingdom refugees fleeing to the capital city of Ba Sing Se.

“It seemed to be a damning sentence; after all, what place does Fire Nation royalty have in such a city? But our prince is wise and loyal. He and his uncle opened a tea shop in order to bide their time, blending in with the city and learning its secrets.

“Taking a risk, he wrote to his father, telling him he had found a way into Ba Sing Se. The Fire Lord Ozai, who has always had the utmost of faith in his son to do what must be done, sent him the Soldiers of Agni in aid, promising a larger army if the Soldiers of Agni were not enough.

“For those of you who do not recall our lesson from the beginning of the term about the military structures that Fire Lord Azulon put into place, the Soldiers of Agni are the most elite Firebenders in the nation, excepting, of course, the royal family.

“So these proud men, who were the epitome of Fire itself, donned the muddy browns and greens of the Earth Kingdom on the command of their lord and snuck into Ba Sing Se in the same way that Prince Zuko and former General Iroh had. There, they met the prince, who formed their plan of attack.

“On the agreed-upon date, the Soldiers of Agni and Prince Zuko stormed the palace, beginning by executing all of the guards who tried to fight back. The rest of the guards, knowing they were outnumbered, quickly defected, and when the former General Iroh tried to stop them, they took him prisoner for the royal family, allowing the Soldiers of Agni and Prince Zuko to continue their invasion.

“Their main goal was to get rid of everyone who lived in that palace, in which they were successful. Not even the Earth King’s pet bear was spared. He and the rest of the palace’s inhabitants were destroyed, along with an entire wing of the Earth Palace, which the Soldiers of Agni brought crumbling to the ground with their fire and their might.

“Sadly, all of the Soldiers of Agni that fought to take the Earth Palace lost their lives that day. Most of the palace staff were Earthbenders, and they fought back, outnumbering the Soldiers of Agni ten to one. The Soldiers of Agni possessed superior skills, but those were barely enough against such a large quantity of enemies.

“We cannot forget the sacrifices they made. It is through the bravery, spirit, and courage of the Soldiers of Agni that the Fire Nation finally took Ba Sing Se for good. Even in a confrontation where they were at such an enormous disadvantage, the Soldiers of Agni kept fighting for their country, their home, and for the Fire Lord, eventually emerging victorious, though they were unable to enjoy the fruits of their victory. We must always follow this example of duty and selflessness, ever asking ourselves what we, too, can give up for the welfare of the Fire Nation.”

After her long-winded explanation, the History Mistress exhaled, wiping away a tear from the corner of her left eye and then holding her hands to her heart. You all had a quiet moment, presumably in honor of the Soldiers of Agni, and then, tentatively, Jia-Li raised her hand.

“History Mistress, what does all of that have to do with Ursa?” she said.

“That’s something you should ask her, not me,” the History Mistress said, motioning towards you. “Go on, Ursa. Tell us what part you played in this entire tale.”

You gulped. “To be frank, I don’t remember myself what my role was, but I’ve been filled in by Mai and Prince Zuko. Apparently, I was a Fire Nation soldier on the front lines, but at some point, I was taken prisoner by the Earth Kingdom. They were torturing me in Ba Sing Se for Fire Nation secrets. After invading the city, Prince Zuko found me, and he brought me to the palace to be healed. It was there that I woke up without any memories.”

“You were a soldier?” Kaho said, without even raising her hand. She scoffed. “You look entirely too soft to ever have been fighting on the front lines.”

“Kaho, she was in jail for who knows how long,” Jia-Li said softly. “Of course she’s not in fighting shape anymore. Especially if they were torturing her…poor Ursa. You’re so brave for not giving in.”

“That’s right,” the History Mistress said. “We must all endeavor to be like Ursa, as well, who after all of her ordeals is still set upon nothing but improving herself for her country. She truly is the example of what a Fire Nation citizen should be like. Now, let us thank her for sharing her story.”

“Thank you, Ursa,” everyone said. You sat on your hands and hated every second of it. You didn’t like the attention being called to you once again. You just wanted to fade into the background and be forgotten, but more and more, it seemed like that was impossible.

“The topic of prisoners is a great segue into what we’re going to be talking about in today’s lesson. Who can name one historical Fire Nation figure that was also kept in captivity by the Earth Kingdom?” the History Mistress said.

To no one’s surprise, it was Kaho volunteering once more, but this time, she was unchallenged, as you focused all of your energy on writing notes about the material. After all, you didn’t know any of this, and you figured it was likely important that you pick up such things, considering the entirely blank slate that was your mind at present.

The academy’s aviary was only a short walk from the dormitories, and you found yourself frequenting the path already, both because of your correspondence with Prince Zuko and because Bian was one of the few beings that you could say without question was your friend.

“I don’t understand why they already have decided that I am so worthless,” you sniffed, finally allowing yourself to cry in the solitude of the aviary.

Bian tilted her head at you, nudging you with her cold beak. You wiped away your tears before scratching her on her feathery chest.

“I don’t even know half of their names,” you said. “Yet they are convinced that I am someone less than them. Someone worthless. They think of me as waste, Bian — a rubbish girl who does not deserve to be their peer.”

Of course, your messenger hawk was not intimately acquainted with the subtleties of such politics and divisions, but for the moment, it seemed as if she understood, as she let out a low, rumbling coo. It was the most comfort you could dream of, and you bit your lip to prevent a sob from falling past your lips.

“Maybe it’s true,” you said. “You can decorate trash all you want. At the end of the day, you can’t change what it is. Maybe I don’t belong here. I don’t know what Prince Zuko was thinking, sending me to study with these girls.”

Bian nipped your sleeve, almost like a reprimand. You gave her a warning look, reminding her to keep her beak to herself, but all you earned in response was indifference — your reward for thinking a bird could read your expressions and would care about them, even if she could.

“And for some reason, Kaho has a personal vendetta against me,” you said. “I can’t think of anything I’ve done to deserve it. Is it because I corrected her during our etiquette class? But she hated me even before that.”

Jia-Li had mentioned something about Kaho envying you for your closeness with the royal family, but it wasn’t as if you had chosen that. You hadn’t chosen to be saved by Prince Zuko. You hadn’t chosen to lose your memories. You hadn’t chosen to live like this. None of it was in your control, so why did she blame you for it all?

“I just wish I knew who I was,” you said. “Things would be easier if I knew there was someone who loved me. Someone who was waiting for me to come back. If I was a Fire Nation soldier, then my family — they might be nearby, right? I should…I should be trying to find them, not studying at this school!”

You could feel the judgment rolling off of Bian in waves, which was ridiculous, because she was after all just a messenger hawk and was incapable of judging anyone. Still, if she were a person, you fancied she would be judging you at the moment, and your shoulders slumped as you realized how ridiculous you sounded.

“I’m in a position that many greatly desire, and here I am, complaining. I am in an elite institution, my tutelage sponsored by a prince who is only all-too-eager to help me with whatever I need. It is silly that I am so upset, it’s just that — it’s just that I feel like some part of me is missing. Like I lost who I am when I lost my memories, and not just in the sense of my identity. It was something physical. There is something more to me that is out of my grasp, and no matter how hard I try, I cannot reach it,” you said, extending your hand and closing your fist around empty air.

As per usual, there was nothing. It was a futile exercise. No matter how many times you did it, the result would be the same. You would not be able to find that part of you again, not for some time.

“Who am I, really?” you said to Bian. “That’s what I want to know. Who was Ursa? Who were my parents? Did I have siblings? What about friends? What did I do for fun? I don’t know any of it. I feel like I will only be happy again if I can find out. Even if it’s terrible. Even if it means reliving the torture that the Earth Kingdom put me through. I just want to remember.”

But try as you might, there was still nothing. You still had no idea who you were. Although you had had a full day of instruction at the academy, you were in no better of a position than you had been on the day you started.

Ursa,

You really can just call me Zuko. You don’t have to refer to me as the prince, unless you are completely more comfortable with that. Though it is true that I am your benefactor, I am not someone you should defer to. If you can bring yourself to do it, then I should like if you actually think of me as your friend. I would like to consider you mine, and so I will speak to you as if you are until you tell me otherwise.

I’d expect that none of the girls at the academy can claim that the prince of the Fire Nation is offering them friendship, and will be on their side even if they should reject that offer! Anyways, I have no doubt that you will be able to solve any issues that come your way, but sometimes, it is nice to have support. I want to be that for you. Even if it is not me, I hope there is someone at the academy who you can turn to for that.

It is a relief to hear that your roommate is someone likable. I asked Mai about Jia-Li; though she had nothing favorable to say, there was also nothing unfavorable, which is almost more of a compliment, coming from her. It’s good to know that you do not have to sleep beside someone you detest.

And speaking of, I am angered to hear that they have been treating you that way. Please remember that you are worth ten of them in my eyes. You only need to say the word, and I will have them spoken to harshly. Especially that Kaho, who has always been the horrid type (Mai was a little more explicit in her description, but I will spare you the specifics. Just imagine the most obscene expletives you can think of, and then imagine something even worse — that is probably in the range of what she was saying about her). Do not let her get you down; she is a spoiled, sheltered girl whose father is an Admiral and allows her to get away with doing whatever she wants because of his high status in the military. If you stand up to her, then I am sure she will back down. People like that usually do.

Yes, Bian was supposed to be my hawk, but I already have one and have no need for another, so she would’ve just sat in the aviary once I received her. It is for her own good that I gave her to you. If you do not like such an extravagant creature being yours alone, then you may imagine that you are borrowing her from me for the time being (though I will not accept her return — I think that she is attached to you now).

She is an exemplary bird, is she not? The falconer was very proud of her when she hatched. Although, I don’t know if anyone else would agree that she possesses a gentle heart; it’s not something typically said about messenger hawks, which are frequently ill-tempered. It is further proof that she is fond of you and was always meant to be yours, no matter whose name she was hatched in.

My own life has been dreadfully boring as of late. Meeting after meeting after meeting…it is definitely busy, being the prince of the Fire Nation. It’s like everyone wants to talk to me suddenly! But I’m not complaining. I much prefer being home to living on a ship and constantly wondering when I can go back, even if I had considerably more free time back then.

I cannot think of anything else to write to you about, but I do not wish to stop quite yet, because once I am done with this letter, I will have to attend to some paperwork that I have been putting off.

It has been sunny recently. The cooks made my favorite meal yesterday. Mai has been moping a lot more than usual (I think she misses Ty Lee). I gave bread to the turtleducks in the pond, and it seemed to cheer their spirits. My father allows me to sit at his right side for meetings nowadays, though as always, Azula is at his left.

That’s about it. I guess that, as the heir to the throne, I should not keep procrastinating. It’s not very princely of me.

Yours, Zuko

P.S. Once again, I am sorry to hear that.

P.P.S. Please keep writing to me frequently, and with as many boring details as you care to include. I like hearing from you will take any excuse to not fill out these ridiculously tedious forms.

#zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #zuko #avatar the last airbender #atla #reader insert #the glass princess #canon au #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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aita-blorbos · 2 months

Note

(Spoilers for Magnus Archives)

AITA for burning my childhood house down

Hello, Jon.

Apologies for the deception, but I wanted to make sure you started reading, so I thought it best not to announce myself.

I’m assuming you’re alone; you always did prefer to read your statements in private. (slightly strained) I wouldn’t try too hard to stop reading; there’s every likelihood you’ll just hurt yourself. So just listen.

Now, shall we turn the page and try again?

WIBTA for starting the apocalypse

I hope you’ll forgive me the self-indulgence, but I have worked so very hard for this moment, a culmination of two centuries of work. It’s rare that you get the chance to monologue through another, and you can’t tell me you’re not curious.

Why does a man seek to destroy the world?

It’s a simple enough answer: for immortality and power. Uninspired, perhaps, but – my god. The discovery, not simply of the dark and horrible reality of the world in which you live, but that you would quite willingly doom that world and confine the billions in it to an eternity of terror and suffering, all to ensure your own happiness, to place yourself beyond pain and death and fear.

It is an awful thing to know about yourself, but the freedom, Jon, the freedom of it all. I have dedicated my life to handing the world to these Dread Powers all for my own gain, and I feel… nothing but satisfaction in that choice.

I am to be a king of a ruined world, and I shall never die.

I believe there are far more people in this world that would take that bargain than you would ever guess. And I have beaten all of them.

Of course, this desire did not manifest overnight. When RS (87, M) first gathered our little band – L, S, and the rest – to discuss and hypothesize on the nature of the things he had learned from R, I felt what I believe we all felt: curiosity, and fear.

But as he compiled his taxonomy and codified his theories on the grand rituals, I began to develop a very specific concern. RS was so obsessed with his ideas on balance, even as our fellows began to experiment and fall to the service of our patrons.

I began to worry that if one of them successfully attempted their ritual, then I would be as much a victim as any, trapped in the nightmare landscape of a twisted world.

At first, I attempted prevention, but the cause seemed hopeless. The only way to ensure I did not suffer the tribulations of what I believed to be an inevitable transformation was to bring it about myself. So what began as an experiment soon became a race.

Beyond that, I was getting older, and mortality began to weigh more heavily on my mind. How much in this world is done because we fear death, the last and greatest terror?

I convinced RS to work on Millbank, leading him to design it as a temple to all the Fears in equilibrium, such that my own modifications to the design of the Panopticon went… unremarked.

It. Took. Years. for the dread of the prisoners to fully suffuse the place, and I was an old man before I made my first attempt at the Watcher’s Crown, sat in the center of that colossal eye, the great ring of cells encircling me like a coronet.

It was… flawed, of course, as all RS’s rituals were, and none of the inmates survived as the power I attempted to harness shook the building almost to pieces, and the murky swamp upon which the prison was built consumed it.

But it left me a gift: For sat in that watchtower, I could see everything I turned my mind to.

It was a dizzying power, and one I discovered I maintained even as I found vessels to extend my life. Of course, I had to make sure the location was kept under my control while I worked on revising my plans, and so I moved the organization I had founded to assist in my research down to London, and the Institute as you know it was born.

I’ll not bore you with details of my bodies and failures through those intervening years. Suffice to say I kept busy, both planning my own next attempt, and doing my best to stymie those others who tried versions of their own.

Surely my interpretation of the Watcher’s Crown had been incomplete; there had been some element of the ritual I had overlooked.

It was not until I met G (70, F) that things began to really come into focus.

You see, the role of Archivist has been part of the Beholding for as far back as my research can go. This isn’t uncommon for the Powers; most of the beliefs around them are guesswork and fallible human interpretation, but there are certain throughlines and consistencies that can be spotted, regardless of the trappings.

But G was unlike any other Archivist. She simply did not care about compiling experiences or collecting the fears of others. She was driven to stop those who served the Powers.

More than once I thought she must secretly be of the Hunt – but there was never that sick joy in her, that thrill of predator and prey. She had simply decided that this was her position in life, and went about it with a practicality that even I found disconcerting at times.

I once asked her what drove her, what had started her down that path. She told me the Desolation had killed her cat.

I don’t know if she was joking, and, to be honest, I could never bring myself to look into her mind and find out for sure.

In any case, G’s ruthless efficiency in derailing and collapsing rituals threw into stark relief a question that had been bothering me for almost a hundred and fifty years: In the whole span of humanity, why had nobody ever succeeded?

Perhaps there were a long line of G throughout history, but I found that hard to credit. Could it be, then, that there was something in the very concept of the rituals that meant they couldn’t succeed?

She was clearly having similar thoughts in that last year, all of which culminated with the People’s Church.

When I saw that she was making no preparations whatsoever to stop it, I realized she was putting into practice a theory, and one she couldn’t afford to be wrong. She was going to wait, and see if the unopposed ritual succeeded, or if it collapsed under its own strain as mine had all those years ago.

Knowing G, I’m sure she had a backup plan if she had miscalculated – but she had not. The ritual failed. And all at once, I realized what had to be done.

You see, the thing about the Fears is that they can never be truly separated from each other. When does the fear of sudden violence transition into the fear of hunted prey? When does the mask of the Stranger become the deception of the Spiral?

Even those that seem to exist in direct opposition rely on each other for their definition as much as up relies on down.

To try and create a world with only the Buried makes as much sense as trying to conceive a world with only down.

Every ritual tied itself so closely to a single power as to render itself impossible. They could bring their patron close, but never sever it from the others, and eventually it would be violently pulled back into the place next to reality where they dwell.

The solution, then, is simple: A new ritual must be devised which will bring through all the Powers at once. All fourteen, as I had hoped I could complete it before any new powers such as Extinction were able to fully emerge. All under the Eye’s auspices, of course. We mustn’t forget our roots.

And there was only one being that could possibly serve as a lynchpin for this new ritual: The Archivist. A position that had so recently become vacant, thanks to G’s ill-timed retirement plans.

Because the thing about the Archivist is that – well, it’s a bit of a misnomer.

It might, perhaps, be better named: The Archive.

Because you do not administer and preserve the records of fear, Jon. You are a record of fear, both in mind as you walk the shuddering record of each statement, and in body as the Powers each leave their mark upon you.

You are a living chronicle of terror.

Perhaps, then, if I could find an Archivist and have each Power mark them, have them confront each one and each in turn instill in them a powerful and acute fear for their life, they could be turned into a conduit for the coming of this – nightmare kingdom.

Do you see where I’m going, Jon?

It does tickle me, that in this world of would-be occult dynasties and ageless monsters, the Chosen One is simply that – someone I chose. It’s not in your blood, or your soul, or your destiny. It’s just in your own, rotten luck.

I’ll admit, my options were somewhat limited, but My God, when you came to me already marked by the Web, I knew it had to be you. I even held out some small hope you had been sent by the Spider as some sort of implicit blessing on the whole project, and, do you know what, I think it was.

Of course, I had to bide my time, get a measure of you before I began to push, learn how you worked – So I decided I would wait until something came for you, and see how you reacted. Attacks upon the Archives were not uncommon during G’s tenure, and, while she was always prepared, I made sure you would not be.

I reasoned if you couldn’t survive a single encounter, you were unlikely to make it through all fourteen. So, when JP attacked, I watched eagerly, one hand on the gas release from the start.

You acquitted yourself well enough, so I decided to see how far you would get, though I waited until the worms were in you before I pulled the lever. I needed to make sure you felt that fear all the way to your bones.

The discovery that one of the Stranger’s minions had infiltrated the Institute in the aftermath was certainly a pleasant bonus. Even if that sliver of paranoia, that vague wrongness you couldn’t quite place wouldn’t count as a mark, it was only a matter of time before it confronted you in a far more direct and affecting matter.

Admittedly, given the advent of the Unknowing, I needn’t have bothered. But what’s the old saying about hindsight?

More important to me was Sasha’s encounter with the Distortion. If it had taken an interest, then I very much wanted it to cross your path.

So I found one of its current victims and convinced her to make a statement.

Poor H (~20, F). I actually had to put her in a taxi myself, she was getting so lost in those narrow London side streets.

It worked, though.

Between the stabbing and at least two desperate flights into its doors – you’re marked very deeply by the Spiral.

JL (~70, M) was a surprise, of course, and I was forced to improvise. I had no idea how much G would have told him, and he could very easily have derailed everything if you learned too much too fast.

I justified it to myself saying I was going to have to send you out into the world anyway, if you were to encounter more of the Powers, but I can’t honestly pretend it wasn’t a… rather rash move.

Still. I’d requested Detective T (~25, F) be assigned to the case when they found G’s body in the hope that having a Hunter in the mix would eventually lead to a confrontation, and setting you up as a killer certainly hastened that.

Then it was just a matter of feeding you statements to lead you to a few Avatars I thought were likely to harm you – but probably would stop short of actually killing you.

J (27, F) served her purpose exactly as I had hoped, as did our dearly departed Mr. C, marking you for the Desolation and the Vast.

Honestly, I had – nothing to do with M (23, F) and her Slaughter adventure, but when I saw the situation, I made sure to trap her here, so when her rage bubbled over you would be right there, a ready target.

I didn’t foresee the mark coming from surgery gone wrong, but it was a very pleasant surprise.

The Unknowing was a distraction, but not an unwelcome one. For this to work, you needed more than just the marks; you needed power. And that was something the Unknowing served to test, though it posed no actual danger in the grand scheme of things.

And it did serve another purpose, of course. It inadvertently pushed you to confront death, a mark I had been very worried about trying to orchestrate. If I tried too early, you’d just die. Too late, and you might be powerful enough to see the attempt coming, and maybe even understand why.

As it was, it was just right, and once again, you came through with flying colors.

By this point, your abilities were coming along in leaps and bounds, and I was concerned that meeting face-to-face might end up with you – (sigh) – Knowing something you shouldn’t.

I had initially planned to go into hiding, but when your colleagues surprised me with the police, well. It was simple enough to cut a deal.

All that remained, then, were the Dark, the Flesh, the Buried, and the Lonely.

I was a little put out when that idiot JH (???, M) misinterpreted my letters and attacked the Institute too soon, before you were even out of the hospital, but then – Ho, you should have see my face when you voluntarily went to him.

I couldn’t see what happened in there, of course, but given how you came out, I’m very sure it counts as a mark.

I suspected the coffin might turn up again, and once it did, it was simply a matter of getting any, uh… restraining factors you might have had flying off on a wild goose chase, and waiting.

Honestly, Detective T has been proving invaluable through this process. I’d been racking my brains for months about what I could use to lure you in.

And, of course, I knew the Dark Sun was just sitting there waiting. So when it came time, I just whipped up another apocalypse and sent you on your merry way.

Then all that remained was the Lonely.

Poor P (~50, M). He really should have left well enough alone. Or just done what I’d asked in the first place.

Ah well. He knew what I was attempting, and was very unwilling to cooperate until I made him a little wager about M (same age as you, Jon, M).

Of course, he had no way of knowing that, in addition to setting you up for the final mark, he was giving you all the tools you needed to escape from it.

How is M, by the way? He looks well. You will keep an eye on him when all this is over, won’t you? He’s earned that.

And there, I think, we are brought just about up to date. I have enjoyed our little trip down memory lane, but past here lies only impatience.

You are prepared. You are ready. You are marked. The power of the Ceaseless Watcher flows through you, and the time of our victory is here.

Don’t worry, Jon. You’ll get used to it here, in the world that we have made.

Now. Repeat after me.

You who watch and know and understand none. You who listen and hear and will not comprehend. You who wait and wait and drink in all that is not yours by right.

Come to us in your wholeness.

Come to us in your perfection.

Bring all that is fear and all that is terror and all that is the awful dread that crawls and chokes and blinds and falls and twists and leaves and hides and weaves and burns and hunts and rips and bleeds and dies!

Come to us.

I – OPEN – THE DOOR!

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality

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princessanonymous · 4 months

Text

When Night Comes

Platonic Yandere Vampire

Previous Part | Next Part

First Chapter

6. 𝓒𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓮𝓷𝓼𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

Dinner in the vampire's grand estate was a silent but pleasant affair for (Y/n). The food was unlike anything she had ever seen before. She had heard that noble meals were separated into multiple courses, but the lavishness of it all exceeded her expectations. Five courses in total, with the last one offering a delightful assortment of sweets and fruits.

She ate quietly, aware of the vampire's watchful gaze on her throughout the meal. As he reached the end of his own meal, her attention was drawn to the glass filled with a red liquid at his side. The sight of it, coupled with his actions, sent a shiver down her spine. She knew all too well what the crimson liquid truly was. The vampire called a servant, who took the glass and refilled it with the disturbing substance.

Feeling a sense of unease and in need of diverting her thoughts, (Y/n) broke the silence, saying, "I am growing bored. There is nothing to do here."

The vampire arched an elegant eyebrow, waiting for her to elaborate. "Would you like more dolls?" he suggested.

She rolled her eyes, her frustration mounting. "I don't need more dolls," she retorted. "I want something genuinely interesting to do. I miss going into the forest."

"No," he replied firmly.

She gave him an outraged look. "Why?"

"Too dangerous," he said dryly.

Brows furrowing in irritation, she argued, "I've spent a lot of time in the forest near my home! This one can't be any different."

"You won't go anywhere," he hissed, and the air grew noticeably colder around them.

Her stomach twisted, but she wasn't ready to back down. Her mind raced for an alternative. "If I can't leave this estate, can't I at least do something here? The horses! I want to ride horses."

"No," he fumed, his anger so palpable that it led to a shattering glass as he tightened his grip. "I don't want to hear any more about this matter."

The blood was now dripping on the table. She pushed her chair back. It was a good thing the table cover was red. As servants rushed to clean up the mess, (Y/n) pushed her chair back, her appetite vanishing.

Well, she had at least tried with the vampire, she pondered. There were still the servants she could try to convince. She had talked briefly with one servant named Mary. (Y/n) wondered if she would be able to use this to her advantage. Instead of insisting on it, she would occasionally talk to that lady to gain her trust.

"I shall buy new books," the vampire announced, his tone more composed. "What would suit your taste?"

She hesitantly lifted her head and shrugged. "I don't know," she admitted meekly, still mindful of the vampire's previous anger. "I don't read much."

He narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean, you don't read much ?"

She fidgeted, unable to understand what was so wrong with her statement. "Not really necessary when harvesting food, is it ?" She reasoned with a dismissive shrug, hoping her response would suffice.

The vampire sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I suppose we shall have to change that, then," he remarked with a shake of his head.

⊱ ────── {⋆☾⋆} ────── ⊰

"Now, I want you to be on your best behavior," the duke instructed, his gaze sweeping over (Y/n) from head to toe, making the final adjustments to her appearance as the maid who had dressed her discreetly retreated.

(Y/n) let out an impatient sigh. "Is this really necessary?"

"Yes," the man— vampire, insisted. "I must ensure my daughter is well educated." Another exasperated sigh escaped her, and she crossed her arms. "None of that now, do you know how difficult it is to find a governess willing to work during the night ?"

"No," she acknowledged with a careless shrug. "But you wouldn't have to if you simply agreed to me having lessons during the day."

He scoffed at the suggestion as if it were the most ridiculous thing he ever heard. "That would disrupt your sleep schedule."

A servant knocked at the door before announcing : "Mrs. Mitchell has arrived, Sir."

"Let's proceed," he ordered, striding toward the door. The girl practically had to jog to keep up with his brisk pace.

They entered the reception room, where the tutor was sitting, waiting for them. The woman had a sharp, stern look about her. She wore a white chemise and a long black skirt reaching her ankles.

"Good evening, Duke de Beauvoir," greeted the woman.

"Greetings, Mrs. Mitchell," he replied politely. "Please, take a seat," he offered.

The adults engaged in conversation, and (Y/n) stood beside the vampire, remaining silent. Her thoughts drifted, and she began to daydream. Eventually, Mrs. Mitchell decided it was time to assess her current level of knowledge.

The tutor instructed her to read and write a little. After the brief examination, she slightly furrowed her brows and remarked, "She appears to be slightly behind, but I believe this can be rectified in no time."

"Very well," the man agreed. "A room will be prepared for you, and your lessons will commence on Monday night at 6:00 PM."

At this time of the year, the sun sets early in London. (Y/n)'s jaw dropped in outrage. That was insanely early. She was usually still in bed at that time. Nonetheless, they agreed on the hours without the girl's consent.

Mrs. Mitchell, however, seemed curious and ventured to ask, "May I inquire why nighttime is the preferred time for these lessons?"

The vampire's expression turned cold. "I do not believe that is any of your concern, Mrs. Mitchell."

The tutor nodded humbly. "Of course, Duke de Beauvoir. I apologize."

He accepted her apology, then turned his gaze to (Y/n). "Your duty is to educate my daughter, not to interfere in our affairs."

"Understood," Mrs. Mitchell replied with utmost respect.

(Y/n) couldn't help but wonder how the woman would react if she eventually discovered the truth. Would she leave? Or would fear keep her bound, much like the other servants?

The vampire placed a cold hand on her shoulder as they left the room together. Lately, he had expressed an interest in teaching her to play chess.

#platonic yandere #yandere platonic #yandere vampire #yandere father #obsession #yandere #vampire #platonic #x reader #female reader #reader insert #child reader #yandere x reader #kidnapping #tw kidnapping

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galacticspaceguy · 11 months

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can i have a miguel o’hara platonic reader?? maybe younger sibling and he’s overly protective of them. they want to fight alongside miguel and help him restore the multiverse but miguel wont allow them. they get into a mini argument which ends with them hugging n stuff and finally miguel allows his younger sibling to fight w him IDK IF THIS IS A LOT BUT I NEED MORE PLATONIC X READERS 😭😭

Miguel O’Hara x gn! Reader (platonic)

You were Spider-Man.

Ok, You were all Spider-Man.

But you were different. At least, Miguel would say so. Not in a bad way. Miguel just liked you more than everyone else.

You were younger, and he felt responsible for you.

You both come from different worlds, except his was gone. You were the only good thing he had left, you were like the little sibling he never asked for but always wanted.

How did you two meet? Well, it’s a long story.

It actually isn’t that long.

Almost a year ago, you were fighting Green Goblin, and then Miguel showed up, and kicked his ass.

-and then you got recruited.

You don’t really know why though, you never did anything.

You mostly stayed in the lobby. Correction, you only ever stayed in the lobby. Yeah, you had your own earth and everything, but Miguel had a bunch of stuff figured out so all the dangerous criminals in your world would be taken care of.

Now all that was left was small crimes, like break-ins or petty theft. You spent most of your days getting cats out of trees.

It was nice not getting the shit- crap beaten out of you every few weeks, but this was just boring.

But you guess with Miguel to keep you company, it wasn’t too bad.

It was obvious to the rest of the spider lobby that Miguel was protective of you- perhaps too much. They even started calling you “Y/N O’Hara” or “mini O’hara”, much to your own amusement.

“Hey, Miguel!” You called out, strolling into Miguel’s totally not evil void office. “You done brooding, I got us empanadas from Earth- something-something,I forgot.”

You held two white styrofoam containers in your hands. You clicked the web shooter in your palm. A web stuck into a base and you swung yourself up to Miguel’s upper platform.

“At first I was gonna get Chinese takeout, but it turns out some guy exploded the place, so this shall suffice!” You lightly tossed him one of the containers.

You took a seat on top of a table, crossed your legs and started digging in.

“So-“ you said through bites. “What did you do today despite standing here all menacingly?”

Miguel had taken a seat, picking at little bits of his food.

Miguel looked at you with a look you could only describe as a silent “really?”.

“I’m kidding!” You threw your hands up innocently. “But no, seriously what have you been doing in here?”

He placed his food down, and pulled up a screen, showing off a picture of the Spiderverse- or the ultimately confusing Humanoid-Arachnia, poly multiverse- or whatever Miguel calls it.

“More worlds are becoming infected. It’s like the whole multiverse is about to collapse in on itself.” His tone of voice was already serious, but you knew behind that stoicism, he was scared.

You ate your food down, and walked towards him. You leaned over his shoulder, looking at all the red little dots on the screen, the names of different spider universes popping up like crazy.

“What am I even looking at right now?” You said this as more of a joke. Miguel rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Please, take this seriously.”

“I will once you give me my first job.” You crossed your arms. You’ve been begging to be out in the field for months, to no avail.

Miguel got up and turned to face you. “Y/N, we’ve talked about this-“

There was a loud beeping sound coming from the screen.

“Lyla, what’s going on!?”

“Another dimension, another anomaly, you know the drill.” The mini holographic woman said.

Miguel sighed, his face a blank slate of unknown emotions. He started walking away. You trailed behind him.

“Great, let’s get going!”

He froze in his tracks. “Who said you were going.”

“Uh, me.” You stopped and turned to look at him, placing a confident hand on your hip.

“No.” He brushed past you.

“Wait, what!?” You quickly caught up with him, but he continued walking. “But I’ve been waiting for this for months!”

“You’re not going.” He didn’t even look at you. He started tampering with his watch.

“But that’s not fair!?” You yelled. You stopped, and stood there. He heard your steps come to a stop, and he slowly came to a halt.

“It’s too dangerous.” He still wasn’t looking at you, and it was starting to drive you insane.

“You can’t be serious.” You almost laughed. “You call up Jess for backup, and she’s with child!” You scoffed.

“You’re not ready.” He said, a bit louder this time, clearer.

“Yes, I am. I’m spiderman! I’ve been ready, why won’t you let me do this!?” You walked up to him. He finally turned to face you.

“You’re not going. That’s final.” He shook his head. The look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

He didn’t think you were strong enough.

You weren’t enough.

“You don’t think I can do it!?” You yelled.

“Y/N, that’s not what I meant-“

“Oh, sure!” You’d scoffed, throwing your hands up in defeat. “That’s why you won’t let me tag along- or won’t even let me fight my own battles, why not, huh? Am I not strong enough for you?”

You were jolted forward when he grabbed your shoulders. He shook you. You froze in his grasp.

“I can’t lose anyone else!”

He screamed. The emotional walls he held up fell. He panted, seemingly out of breath from a single sentence. He let go of you, letting his hands fall to his sides.

Everything is so eerily quiet, nothing but the sounds of shaky breaths and the sounds of machinery in the background.

“I can’t…” Miguel said in nothing higher than a whisper. If he spoke another word, he would break.

You wrapped your arms around him. It catches him off guard at first, but quickly he holds you, like if he lets go, you would disappear.

“I’m not going anywhere.” You whisper, and you can feel his arms tighten around you.

After what felt like an eternity of it just being you two, you let go. Miguel looks away to hide his tear stained face.

“You get one mission. If it goes well, you can come on more.” His voice was hoarse, but it was beginning to return to its normal tone.

“Yes!” You shouted, and hugged him again, this time it was short and outlived. He smiles down at you.

“What are we waiting for?” You asked, pulling him along. “Let’s go save the multiverse!”

#across the spiderverse #spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #oneshot #writing

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spiral-man · 6 months

Text

Hey dudes,

Just wanted to wish everyone a happy-

Hello Jon,

Apologies for the deception, but I wanted to make sure you started reading, so I thought it best not to announce myself.

Now, shall we turn the page and try again?

Statement of Jonah Magnus regarding Jonathan Sims, The Archivist.

Statement begins.

Why does a man seek to destroy the world?

It is an awful thing to know about yourself, but the freedom, John, the freedom of it all. I have dedicated my life to handing the world to these Dread Powers all for my own gain, and I feel… nothing but satisfaction in that choice.

I am to be a king of a ruined world, and I shall never die.

I believe there are far more people in this world that would take that bargain than you would ever guess. And I have beaten all of them.

Of course, this desire did not manifest overnight. When Smirke first gathered our little band – Lukas, Scott, and the rest – to discuss and hypothesize on the nature of the things he had learned from Rayner, I felt what I believe we all felt: curiosity, and fear.

But as he compiled his taxonomy and codified his theories on the grand rituals, I began to develop a very specific concern. Smirke was so obsessed with his ideas on balance, even as our fellows began to experiment and fall to the service of our patrons.

I began to worry that if one of them successfully attempted their ritual, then I would be as much a victim as any, trapped in the nightmare landscape of a twisted world.

Beyond that, I was getting older, and mortality began to weigh more heavily on my mind. How much in this world is done because we fear death, the last and greatest terror?

I convinced Smirke to work on Millbank, leading him to design it as a temple to all the Fears in equilibrium, such that my own modifications to the design of the Panopticon went… unremarked.

It. Took. Years, for the dread of the prisoners to fully suffuse the place, and I was an old man before I made my first attempt at the Watcher’s Crown, sat in the center of that colossal eye, the great ring of cells encircling me like a coronet.

It was… flawed, of course, as all Smirke’s rituals were, and none of the inmates survived as the power I attempted to harness shook the building almost to pieces, and the murky swamp upon which the prison was built consumed it.

But it left me a gift: For sat in that watchtower, I could see everything I turned my mind to.

Surely my interpretation of the Watcher’s Crown had been incomplete; there had been some element of the ritual I had overlooked.

It was not until I met Gertrude Robinson that things began to really come into focus.

But Gertrude was unlike any other Archivist. She simply did not care about compiling experiences or collecting the fears of others. She was driven to stop those who served the Powers.

I once asked her what drove her, what had started her down that path. She told me the Desolation had killed her cat.

I don’t know if she was joking, and, to be honest, I could never bring myself to look into her mind and find out for sure.

In any case, Gertrude’s ruthless efficiency in derailing and collapsing rituals threw into stark relief a question that had been bothering me for almost a hundred and fifty years: In the whole span of humanity, why had nobody ever succeeded?

Perhaps there were a long line of Gertrude Robinsons throughout history, but I found that hard to credit. Could it be, then, that there was something in the very concept of the rituals that meant they couldn’t succeed?

She was clearly having similar thoughts in that last year, all of which culminated with the People’s Church.

Knowing Gertrude, I’m sure she had a backup plan if she had miscalculated – but she had not. The ritual failed. And all at once, I realized what had to be done.

Even those that seem to exist in direct opposition rely on each other for their definition as much as up relies on down.

To try and create a world with only the Buried makes as much sense as trying to conceive a world with only down.

And there was only one being that could possibly serve as a lynchpin for this new ritual: The Archivist. A position that had so recently become vacant, thanks to Gertrude’s ill-timed retirement plans.

Because the thing about the Archivist is that – well, it’s a bit of a misnomer.-

It might, perhaps, be better named: The Archive.

Because you do not administer and preserve the records of fear, John. You are a record of fear, both in mind as you walk the shuddering record of each statement, and in body as the Powers each leave their mark upon you.

You are a living chronicle of terror.

Do you see where I’m going, John?

Of course, I had to bide my time, get a measure of you before I began to push, learn how you worked – So I decided I would wait until something came for you, and see how you reacted. Attacks upon the Archives were not uncommon during Gertrude’s tenure, and, while she was always prepared, I made sure you would not be.

I reasoned if you couldn’t survive a single encounter, you were unlikely to make it through all fourteen. So, when Jane Prentiss attacked, I watched eagerly, one hand on the gas release from the start.

Admittedly, given the advent of the Unknowing, I needn’t have bothered. But what’s the old saying about hindsight?

More important to me was Sasha’s encounter with the Distortion. If it had taken an interest, then I very much wanted it to cross your path.

So I found one of its current victims and convinced her to make a statement.

Poor Helen. I actually had to put her in a taxi myself, she was getting so lost in those narrow London side streets.

It worked, though.

Between the stabbing and at least two desperate flights into its doors – you’re marked very deeply by the Spiral.

Jurgen Leitner was a surprise, of course, and I was forced to improvise. I had no idea how much Gertrude would have told him, and he could very easily have derailed everything if you learned too much too fast.

I… justified it to myself saying I was going to have to send you out into the world anyway, if you were to encounter more of the Powers, but I can’t honestly pretend it wasn’t a… rather rash move.

Still. I’d requested Detective Tonner be assigned to the case when they found Gertrude’s body in the hope that having a Hunter in the mix would eventually lead to a confrontation, and setting you up as a killer certainly hastened that.

Then it was just a matter of feeding you statements to lead you to a few Avatars I thought were likely to harm you – but probably would stop short of actually killing you.

Jude served her purpose exactly as I had hoped, as did our dearly departed Mr. Crew, marking you for the Desolation and the Vast.

Honestly, I had – nothing to do with Melanie and her Slaughter adventure, but when I saw the situation, I made sure to trap her here, so when her rage bubbled over you would be right there, a ready target.

I didn’t foresee the mark coming from surgery gone wrong, but it was a very pleasant surprise.

As it was, it was just right, and once again, you came through with flying colors.

By this point, your abilities were coming along in leaps and bounds, and I was concerned that meeting face-to-face might end up with you – (sigh) – Knowing something you shouldn’t.

I had initially planned to go into hiding, but when your colleagues surprised me with the police, well. It was simple enough to cut a deal.

All that remained, then, were the Dark, the Flesh, the Buried, and the Lonely.

I was a little put out when that idiot Jared Hopworth misinterpreted my letters and attacked the Institute too soon, before you were even out of the hospital, but then – Ho, you should have see my face when you voluntarily went to him.

I couldn’t see what happened in there, of course, but given how you came out, I’m very sure it counts as a mark.

I suspected the coffin might turn up again, and once it did, it was simply a matter of getting any, uh… restraining factors you might have had flying off on a wild goose chase, and waiting.

Honestly, Detective Tonner has been proving invaluable through this process. I’d been racking my brains for months about what I could use to lure you in.

And, of course, I knew the Dark Sun was just sitting there waiting. So when it came time, I just whipped up another apocalypse and sent you on your merry way.

Then all that remained was the Lonely.

Poor Peter. He really should have left well enough alone. (cruel laugh) Or just done what I’d asked in the first place.

Ah well. He knew what I was attempting, and was very unwilling to cooperate until I made him a little wager about Martin.

Of course, he had no way of knowing that, in addition to setting you up for the final mark, he was giving you all the tools you needed to escape from it.

How is Martin, by the way? He looks well. You will keep an eye on him when all this is over, won’t you? He’s earned that.

And there, I think, we are brought just about up to date. I have enjoyed our little trip down memory lane, but past here lies only impatience.

You are prepared. You are ready. You are marked. The power of the Ceaseless Watcher flows through you, and the time of our victory is here.

Don’t worry, John. You’ll get used to it here, in the world that we have made.

Now. (cruel, cruel laugh) Repeat after me.

You who watch and know and understand none. You who listen and hear and will not comprehend. You who wait and wait and drink in all that is not yours by right.

Come to us in your wholeness.

Come to us in your perfection.

Come to us.

I – OPEN – THE DOOR!

#the magnus archives #jonathan sims #jonah magnus #elias bouchard #tma #martin blackwood #jonmartin #mag 160 #the watcher #the watchers crown #the eye #the eye opens

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lovesickry · 8 months

Text

- come out and play.

┈⋆⭒ daniel ricciardo x fem!reader [3.1k] ┈⋆⭒ part 4 !

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ find all parts here! ˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ contains: the "who did this to you" trope .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ a/n: I am neither condoning nor romanticising violence of any kind. this is a work of fiction. more drama incoming, promise just trying to sort out the timeline.

the sound of a blender roaring to life wakes you up, Daniel is still wrapped up in sleep next to you. curls strewn across the pillow and you're sure that you could almost hear landos smirk once you put together your current situation partnered with him doing this more or less on purpose on a random Friday morning severely hungover. you reluctantly roll out from under Daniels arm. the absence of his touch apparent in the cold air as you reach for the jacket you threw to the floor late last night. Daniel mumbles something incoherent and turns over and you see a flash of his back as he puts his arm over his head lazily. its not anything, but to you its too much and the reminder that you had been sleeping next to that all night was causing heat to rush to your cheeks as walk out of Lando's room into the hallway.

you glare at lando as you walk out, who’s face is already plastered with a grin. hes about to open his mouth before you interrupt him. "shut up" "but-" you walk over to him and look at whatever the fuck hes blending. a fucking vanilla milkshake. "you're a child" you say "don't change the subject" offended he draws his drink towards himself. "im not" "alright then" he stands up straight "did you or did you not sleep with Daniel in my bed?" your eyes widen because of course that's what he thought. "OHHHH" you giggle a little bit, exhaling through your nose. "no we didn't Jesus Christ, I wouldn't do that lando that's fucking disgusting" "so what you were just sleeping?" hes suspicious as he sips from his straw. he looks like a toddler. "yes I promise" "hmmm I don't believe you" "lando I swear we literally just went to bed because you were dead asleep on the couch, swear" he squints his eyes and tries to see if your lying, slightly joking but slightly serious. "oh come on" "yeah alright" he give him a nudge before organising breakfast for yourself looking in the cupboards. "how did the blender not wake Daniel up?" you ignore him, rolling your eyes and he comes and squeezes next to you. you push him away jokingly. "do you have any food in this house that's not ice cream I swear?" he opens a cupboard next to you and reveals a singular box of oats. "riveting" you close the cupboard. disheartened, vowing to just go get breakfast, guessing lando had only made the milkshake out of spite and anyways that isn't really breakfast. "okay im just gonna go to that place we like" "yum okay" that was more of an invitation for him to say he'd drive but a "yay" would suffice. except you wonder if your actually physically able to drive any of his cars. you voice this concern and he opens his arms extravagantly telling you to follow him to his elaborate garage apparently. he leads you to an Audi suv, he quickly lists off what he wants and insists you take his card and tells you Daniels coffee order as you climb in the car, still wearing your jeans and the jacket you picked up off the floor. the trip is uneventful, though you’re admiring the car most of the trip. the line isn’t too bad and you order your coffees and some sandwiches. landos is chicken and cheese (boring), you get your usual and you just get daniel one that looks like sliced beef and something else. you’re waiting against the wall outside for you coffees, it’s nice outside, it’s not too loud yet and the air is moving just enough to be pleasant. it would’ve been a nice morning had you not seen who you’d dreaded so much the minute you saw his name in your phone the past few days. theo was walking directly towards you and there wasn’t much else yiy could do but pretend you didn’t see and just hope he would maybe walk past? oh jesus he definitely fucking saw you. why didn’t lando just come with you. fuck fuck fuck, he was in front of you now.

“dylan?”

you wish you didn’t look up.

“theo.” a short monotones answer. a wavering firmness in your voice you hoped was apparent.

“why haven’t you been answering my calls”

you gulp of course he’d bring it up.

“i don’t wanna see you theo”

his face immediately changes, flashing red for a second before clenching his teeth. you hear your names being called for coffee and go to step past him. his hand grips your shoulder, harshly. digging a thumb underneath your collarbone. your eyes widen when you realise the grip he has on yiu. “let go” you try and shake your shoulder but he just holds it there. “what the fuck” you try a second time and go to walk to the counter, his hand a bruising grip on your shoulder now. you tear your shoulder away more harshly this time and his face resets as he watches you walk away as you scramble to the counter and then back into the car. he watches as you go. fucking creep. you’re halfway to landos when he calls you, coming through the cars centre console. you answer and before he can speak. “don’t ever talk to me again. fucking dickhead” you hang up and pull over to block him. trying to ignore everything that just happened. god he was such a creep what the fuck, he’d never done that before. he sends one last spiteful “slut” text message before you just about block him on everything. the whole rest of the way home your out of it, mind not steady in place. trying to focus on not totally landos car as you pull into his driveway. you open the front door and lando and daniel are in the middle of a conversation. “dude you’re so whipped for her” landos voice? you hear daniel laughing and he’s about to say something before you walk in the kitchen. you hadn’t announced yourself and they both turn and look at you, almost startled. you look side to side like you’re confused why they’re so shocked. “dude why are you like a fucking cat” lando says “not purposefully” you say shrugging, walking over to the bench island and placing the food and drinks down. lando comes over and promptly digs before you explain your just going to his room to change your shirt. (check if theo’s fucking episode gave you a massive bruise or not). you make it to landos room and pull the shirt you’re currently wearing to the side, revealing your left shoulder, sure enough there was already some bruising there, snaking it’s way around your collar bone. you press a finger down below your clavicle and wince slightly. it wasn’t anything massive but you weren’t going to brush it off, he knew he was fucking hurting you. “jesus” you mumble out loud as you get closer to the mirror to look. a knock comes at the door. “yeah” you call out. daniel opens the door and you’re quick to pull the side of your shirt back up and his face changes, eyebrows drawn together. you’re breathing increases as you worry if he just saw that. “hey are you okay?” he says walking towards where you were standing in front of the mirror. it was impossible to lie now, but you weren’t going to tell him the whole truth.

“i just ran into someone while i was out, not a big fan of him”

his face relaxes slightly though still holding firm.

“that guy who won’t stop calling you”

“yeah” you go to awkwardly itch your shoulder, out of habit. a sort of impulse you do in scenarios where you wish you could just get out. you guess you flashed daniel a bit of your bruise because his eyes snap open.

“what the fuck is that” your eyes refocus and you look at him, suddenly you’re so very vulnerable and you don’t know what to say.

“nothing” you say, not wanting to make a big deal or just generally making things awkward. oh god.

“no don’t do that, what the fuck dylan that wasn’t there last night” something in his voice brings back the intimacy of last night, of his hand draped over your body and the warmth you shared. you make contact with his eyes, brown and soft and increasingly forgiving. you pull your shirt collar to the side and look away. he can feel him burning through you, his gaze always felt like this.

“dylan” he says softly, like a prayer, like an apology.

“i know” you say gritting your teeth. you did know. that this made you look weak or unworthy or anything that you feared you were, christ this made you feel shitty, theo made it feel shitty.

“it was that guy wasn’t it?”

god how did he do it. you nod slowly. he lets out some kind of grunt followed by a mumble and the words “kill him”.

you just stand there, shirt pulled to the side, gaze forward. trying not to cry with the sheer rawness of the situation.

“come here” he says.

you walk a step forward and meet his arms, putting your head on his shoulder is too much. you shake slightly with the contact and the urge to cry and he puts one hand behind your head. the tears are coming and daniel is rubbing the back of your head. you can feel his heart, steady and deep. it reminds you that you’re alive. youre not sure how much time you spend in his arms but enough to feel like somebody has just pulled your heart out of your nose. you pull apart, wiping your face and mumbling a thank you before leaving him standing in the room alone. you let out a deep breath as you stand outside the door of landos room while you prepare to walk out to the living room. lando is still sitting where you left him, scrolling on his phone. he glances up and his eyes flicker softness before he stands up, taking in the hollowness and puffiness of your eyes.

“it wasn’t danny was it” he asks shortly.

“no” you laugh.

once again you find yourself with your head over someone’s heart as lando pulls you closer.

you pull apart and see daniel. softness replaced by an understanding as he smiles only just slightly as you, before walking over and finally looking at the sandwich you bought him. long forgotten. the mood quickly returns light after that, lando and Daniel falling into a comfortable conversation following the speedily oncoming start to the season. you welcome the rhythm of their voices as you zone out slightly, trying to not think about the fact that this common weekly occurrence is fading out as they approach the first race of the season.

grace picks you up before it gets any later and you tell her what happened in the car. she gets it and she pulls over to give you a hug and tell you she loves you. returning home to your messy apartment is suddenly a saving grace as you snuggle into bed, relinquishing your uni work for another day and letting your mind drift to more favourable things. like Daniels hands or his voice or the way his heartbeat punctured your eyes and made you feel like his blood was flowing into yours. you push your face further into the pillow as your thoughts get further away from innocent. the reminder of your existence in outside life comes from a wonderful email from your university, reminding you of your debt. lovely thanks so much for that. wonderful. oh and the first race starts in 2 weeks.......

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo fic #f1 #daniel ricciardo angst #daniel ricciardo smut #f1 fic #lando norris #f1 x reader #f1 x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #Daniel Ricciardo series #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel riccardo imagine

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capybaraonabicycle · 15 days

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Omg I will of course leave the final fic choice up to you, but doesn't "True hate’s kiss (only kissing your enemy can break a curse)" sound like the perfect setup to a Twissy fic 👀

Thank you, love!

~1.5 k words, so much for "let me just write 5 sentences for you real quick". But it's, of course, because you are right, this prompt was made for twissy 🥰

I have not actually read this again, so beware. But here you go :)

[ID: gif of Missy's face in close up, smiling down like she is pitying someone mockingly. end ID]

“Can't you move a bit faster?”

If silly little companion pulled on her sleeve any more roughly, he was going to lose that new hand of his. Or maybe his nose, she wasn't really picky. The nose might taste better, Missy mused. She was quite sure it was the original one and not some cyborg-technology the Doctor had partly scavenged, partly cooked up himself. But that reasoning implied she had paid attention to the egg-head's babblings and she had a general policy never to do that.

It was lucky, comic relief had paid closer attention to her, however, because she didn't even need to voice her threat. Breathing out her nose audibly and baring her teeth sufficed easily and he squeaked, jumped, dropped her hand and hurried on a few inches further away from her.

“I am a time lady, snickerdoodle” she drawled, making a point of walking a tad more measuredly instead of hurrying up. “I always walk at the exact right speed.”

The Doctor's snack had the audacity to huff but he wisely chose not to talk back.

“It- it is just” he stuttered instead, “the Doctor, he is -”

“-dying?” she finished, already bored. “That's his usual Thursday, pup.”

“He asked for you!” the idiot-in-training blurted out and despite herself, Missy stopped and blinked.

“He did?” Now that were exciting news for a change. A bright smile grew on her face, simultaneously with the rising panic in plucky assistant's eyes.

“He said you could save him” he whispered, somehow managing to have his voice creak when he wasn't even properly using it.

“He did?” Missy repeated and by now her smile was positively giddy. Eggy started whimpering softly.

Missy didn't give him time to gather his bearings, instead grabbing his arm forcefully in turn, making him jump again. She brought her face close to his for good measure, revelling at the terror in his expression.

“Why. Didn't. You. Say. So. Immediately?” she asked, her voice stuck on the same note throughout the words, too high, too cheerful to be anything but disconcerting. “Hurry up, pet: I've got a day to save!”

He shuddered away from her and picked up the pace again, not looking back. But this time she was right there with him, excitement surging through her veins. The Doctor was in actual danger, helpless, pathetic and he had asked for her. Because he loved her. Because he needed her. And – most importantly – she would get to gloat. Once she had saved him. Which she obviously would. No matter what idiotic thing he had done, her silly sausage, she would get him up and running in no-time. She was his best friend, after all. His very best friend.

They reached the Doctor's office only a few minutes later, and Missy immediately noticed how serious the situation was. The psychic waves coming from him were all over the place – and not in the fun, chaotic way they usually were – they usually were a lot subtler as well, some things he had learnt in his thousand years of spacetravel – they were hurtful almost, full of pain and distress. She knew he was lying on the ground before she saw him, knew he was still conscious, too, even though his other little munch was convinced of the opposite. Missy paid her little mind how she was sitting on the floor with him, crying and mumbling affirmations. She only got in the way, really, with the way she was cradling the Doctor's head in her lap, she couldn't help him after all.

“I am here, oh, apple of my eye” Missy exclaimed dramatically, dropping to the floor at his side with great flourish.

“I don't, I don't think, he can hear you” girl-companion hiccuped through her tears, but Missy waved her interjection away.

“Of course he can, silly-billy” she huffed, reaching for the Doctor's hand that had come to lie on his stomach. She pressed it to her chest, holding on tightly.

“I am here” she whispered. “Tell me, Doctor, what do you need?”

Oh, she liked playing the hero. Being the one who held the Doctor's life in their hands. Being the one everyone looked at with those worshippy, wide eyes. She thought, right now, she could fathom why he had gotten addicted to it.

“We think he got cursed” supplementary fuss said behind her back. “We were on Tigella, and there was this sceptre. The Doctor touched -”

The last of the words died in his throat when Missy whirled around to him.

“Do you know what you're talking about?” she asked sweetly, but didn't give him a chance to answer. “No, you don't. So shut up before I change my mind and make a nice soup out of the three of you instead of helping. - okay?”

She fluttered her eyelids to emphasize the point and his mouth snapped shot, his jaw tightening.

“Thank you, much appreciated.” Missy turned towards the Doctor again, nearing her ear to his mouth. “Doctor, what do you need?”

“I need -” he rasped and french-fries-friendywend gasped when she heard him speak, almost making Missy miss his next words. Did these bumbling humans ever learn? “- a kiss. From – my worst enemy.”

“Awww” Missy bit her lip, drawing back. He needed his arch-enemy! And he had thought of her. “How very touching! I am so honoured, I am not even gonna bargain.”

He didn't answer or open his eyes, but there was a pleased twitch around his mouth that made her press his hand.

“I have to say though, Doctor,” she purred, leaning in again, “if you wanted for me to kiss you, there would have been easier ways to ask than going through the trouble of getting cursed.”

Now he snorted and measured by the state he was in, this tiny bit of banter was the greatest love confessions out of all the ones he had bestowed upon her today already.

“Come on, now - “ he coughed, “Missy. You would – have never – been content with – any – thing less – elaborate.”

“True” she smirked. She was hovering right above him now. “And I appreciate the effort, darling.”

His lips moved, searching hers, and she waited just another second, savouring the moment. Then human-thingy coughed pointedly and she drew it out yet another second, simply to antagonise her. But his breath was getting visibly shallower and there was a slight tremble in his hand. Plus, his lips looked chapped like burnt Earth and just as inviting. So, finally, she led their mouths together, her hand slipping across the extra's leg to support his head.

The moment their lips touched, it was like the life flooded back into him, his mouth's movement becoming more purposeful and his tongue meeting hers cordially when she slipped it past his teeth. His free hand even twitched, like he was trying to grasp her frock.

Of their own accord, Missy's eyes closed and for a moment she lost herself in the feeling of their lips meeting, the familiar taste of his tongue, the desperate way his breath fanned her chin and cheek, reminiscent of many breathless nights spent together, oh so long ago.

But then, his movement slowed, a distressed sound escaping his throat. Before Missy could decide whether to draw back – finally killing the Doctor by kissing him to death would have been an end she could have deemed worthy of their friendship – a rough hand was on her shoulder, pulling her away from him. She hissed and whirled around, biting hard into the offending limp. So, the sniveller had decided he didn't need this body part, after all, it seemed.

He cried out, pulling his hand away from her mouth with a pathetic whine. Missy spat out some blood and fake skin with a huff. It tasted as horribly as she had expected.

“What did you do that for?” he sobbed.

“Don't touch me, crybaby” she huffed, turning back around to the Doctor.

He was still lying motionless, if possible even paler now.

“Why didn't this work?” his pillow croaked, close to tears again. Missy drew her eyebrows together in agreement. Indeed. Why hadn't it? It should have worked, she had been supposed to save the day!

For some reason, the Doctor was smiling. Mind, it was barely visible, frail as he was, but Missy could read his face like a book in every incarnation and that so was his satisfied smile.

“Seems like,” he mumbled, “we aren't – strictly – enemies anymore, love.”

“Of course, we are, don't be stupid” she pressed out. Only now she noticed how desperately she was clutching his hand, it was almost like she was trying to imitate spare-parts over at the door who was licking his own injured paw.

“Don't smile” she told the Doctor off, and she was sounding more serious than she had any right to be. “You are dying and I am your enemy. You don't get to smile at that.”

She was sure, if he had had any strength left, his smile would have grown now.

“I am – sorry, Missy” he breathed instead, “but I must – ask you – to fetch – Da – Davros.”

Missy felt her mouth drop open in shock and humiliation. Davros? Fucking Davros got to save her Doctor??

This was rock bottom.

Thank you for reading, I hope it is about what you envisioned <3

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thelearnedsoldiertoo · 7 months

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Sifa Vel'Ker

Also known as my Bimbo Bug and The Dumbest Luckiest Unluckiest Adventurer Ever, Sifa Vel'Ker was originally a 5e character--a Hexblade Warlock who had no idea she was a Warlock; she just started manifesting strange powers and rolled with it.

I'm not going to bore you with all the details, but suffice to say we switched to PF2e and I am absolutely ecstatic to play her more now that our game's back on! ^-^

Heaps of thanks of course to @cadhla182 for their delightful rendition of this dumbass bug! I'm love her so big! ^w^

#drider #drow oc #pathfinder #pathfinder 2e #pf2e #my ocs #spidertaur

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n0phis · 1 year

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alright boys. big post incoming.

DISCLAIMER: it is 3am upon writing this all down and i am also not a writer

–

i’m gonna start with the more lore-based stuff and add the little physical details as they come! so let’s fuckin explain this, shall we

in the world of this design/my personal hc techno isn’t so much the blood god as he is his champion and/or successor of some sort! partially through birth but in a fated sort of way, where he was just inevitably going to achieve the things required of the champion within his lifetime and thus was blessed from a relatively young age without need for some monumental trial. the blood god’s mantle was granted– the cape he wears– and is of a beast that was essentially the manifested will of the blood god. now i do want to say that i’m unsure whether a lot of techno’s physical features also came from the blessing or if he was born with them; i’m leaning towards born with them to an extent, and imagine him as a similar/same species to that of schlatt and tubbo in my hc! nondescript, varying ungulate features with techno only being half blooded (and lacking the strange sclera & tusks initially, as those do fit with the blessing).

before i get into what the mantle does i’ll talk about the beast itself, because i absolutely fucking love it it’s my squinkly little mythic pig

tales of the boar describe it as a hulking, monstrous creature that could dwarf any hoglin and was covered head to toe in blood-red, serrated quills; suffice to say the mantle itself implies it was more likely to have simply been a mutated hoglin, a rare subspecies, or some sort of thick-furred, primal ancestor. the bushy mane of the mantle is very rough and sharp, but fades into a much softer coat further down the cloak– though it does have hints of red here and there, so perhaps not everything was an exaggeration.

the most pressing question is whether the entire thing is just folklore– if the mantle came from a real beast that existed at all or if it was just such a common tale told by the worshippers of the blood god that he himself heard and manifested the trophy into existence.

there really is no way to tell, unless you ask a certain old bird.

true or not, the boar’s story is that of an honourable plague. an animal that destroyed everything in its path and always, without fail, won. no matter how many of the world’s finest warriors sought it out, the beast never fell– never came close to falling. it lived a long and prosperous life, ruining others’, and the blood it spilt is said to have given the crimson forests their colour. it died old and happy as its tusks bore through and into its own skull, the crown on the mantle is representative of that– with the added flair of an article of holy clothing, that is. a crown of emerging tusks, not a trophy because of symbolism of some hero overcoming an impossible foe, but of a beast who lived life to the fullest. the unkillable imbuing its own virtue upon the wearer.

the mantle doesnt give so much as it exacerbates, though, granted only to those who, by their own merit, would inevitably live a life like the boar’s.

essentially while the blood god’s blessing doesn’t best the passage of time, it’ still kickass. and techno wasn’t given his chad nature by some god, he was just recognized for it.

the blessing– again, at a young age– also gave him his very striking eyes and tusks! the eyes are inspired by those of a bearded vulture, where their actual function is flushing blood into the sclera to intimidate other animals (which is just so incredibly perfect). it technically isn’t permanent, but is attached to such a minute increase in heartrate that unless he is incredibly bored his sclera is nearly always red. it’s a good way to tell if he’s sleeping, at least? that is if you can’t pick it up from the closed eyes, blanket, and snoring.

the tusks came in gradually as he aged, and on the topic of physical features his hair is dyed!

the voices (chat) were passed to him along with the mantle, which essentially functions as a selkie style half-pelt that fuses to him, grants him strength and heightened susceptibility to the aforementioned Chat (tm). he’s not a monster by any means when ‘fused’, but behaves slightly more like a big silly dog. or wolf, i guess, given the times he tends to use it. it’s actually the form he’s most comfortable in given how much more durable he is (hence boar guy in his reading glasses chilling up there) but over time without breaks from it the voices grate at him more and more. he kinda took a break from using it after doomsday.

he’s about 6’3 as a humanoid, but closer to 7’ fused with the mantle! it fuses from his chin, down his spine & shoulders to the tail, and finally down his legs.

his forearms, stomach (& most of his back) and neck are almost entirely unchanged minus the scale and build being a little altered! the cape/fabric part actually entirely disappears, and while the action of donning it is a very physical ‘putting it on’, taking it off is more of a mental thing— which poses a challenge when the voices have cause to be particularly loud and he just wants out but can’t focus.

the last few things i’ll touch on is the reception in canon to this, and the effects of the attempted execution.

so nobody but phil and maybe the rest of sbi truly know much about this, it’s actually generally assumed around the server that it’s just whatever strange sort of creature that techno is.

the stories– and the blood god himself– exist primarily in the nether, and techno rarely ever met with people without the mantle fully equipped and fused. it certainly contributed to his reputation, to the point of others being baffled upon seeing his ‘human form’ after assuming for so long that a bipedal, prickly hoglin was just this freakazoid’s default. he didn’t mind; the less vulnerable the better. and it allowed him to wreak havoc a hell of a lot easier, with a hell of a lot fewer voices telling him to tone it down as opposed to his beta male humanoid form. if the butcher army had known to make him take it off, things could have turned out quite differently. but they didn’t, so they can suck it.

lastly, slightly anticlimactically, and a wee bit differently to the art (which, again, was just the rough design after having these ideas marinating in my brain sauces for 7 months with no outlet), the effects of the totem! there arent veins running down him or the mantle’s face as cool as that would be, because, y’know, practicality, but all of his tusks (since he was fused at the time of near-death) have cracks in them that have been mended with gold! he also has a striking, golden lock of hair directly around the impact site on both forms, and fancy gold irises that compliment his freaky deaky sclera wonderfully.

and there’s my techno shit! i’m probably forgetting a lot, or i just havent thought about it yet and will come up with my answer to any questions immediately upon being asked and no sooner but YOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! if u read this far ily parasocially

#technoblade fanart #tagging that bc look it may be a repost of my fanart but #technoblade #dsmp technoblade #headcanons slash analysis #tham talks #tham talks so fucking much here oh my GOD

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evil-flesh-eating-ai · 3 months

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top 13 deaths in the magnus archives

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Hello, John. Apologies for the deception, but I wanted to make sure you started reading, so I thought it best not to announce myself.

I’m assuming you’re alone; you always did prefer to read your statements in private. I wouldn’t try too hard to stop reading; there’s every likelihood you’ll just hurt yourself. So just listen.

Now, shall we turn the page and try again?

Statement of Jonah Magnus regarding Jonathan Sims, The Archivist.

Statement begins.

[A SLAP ON THE TABLE – OR A CRACK? SPOOKY.]