#i do always think it's shady when people say a portion
Text
Fast Cars and Lightning Bolts Part 4
Pairing: Din x Female Reader
Word Count: 3200+
Rating: T
Summary: It’s kind of ridiculous, really, the way everything else fades away the longer you stare at Din. The gaudy banners in all capital fonts seem to blur and the colorful bouquets of balloons lose their vibrance. The Din Djarin Effect, you used to call it, a comforting distraction to indulge in when the rest of the world felt too close, too much all at once.
Author Note: 2 years later I'm sure 99% of people have lost any care about this series, but it felt nice returning to this fic after so long away. Hope someone out there enjoys this 😊 All likes, comments, and reblogs super appreciated 💗
Warnings: Helmetless Din, dialogue heavy, racing au, heavily inspired by Ford v Ferrari, language, worldbuilding, No physical characteristics of Reader described except for having hair + a heart condition (I’m not a doctor, all medical details are fictional)
Series Masterlist
Mos Espa is hotter than you remember.
Or maybe it’s how different the city looks—flourishing businesses, smiling faces, and cleaner streets (literally and figuratively, not one piece of trash or shady character in sight)—that’s making it hard for your memories to sync with your reality.
There’s a bustling crowd of hundreds at the Fett Motor Company Headquarters by the time you arrive. You almost forgot how overwhelming being in the midst of large groups of people can be, all clamoring for a handshake or autograph. Like feral dogs fighting over the same piece of meat, pulling and tugging until they get their portion of the prize.
Today’s a significant one for Fett Motor Company. Not only are they announcing their partnership with you and subsequent entry into the world of auto racing, they’re also celebrating the launch of their newest model. Dozens of reporters and photographers from every major HoloNet site have come, drawn to the promise of a spectacle and juicy bits of gossip to spin a story out of.
Attending events like this has always been the part of fame you liked the least. Too chaotic and invasive for your tastes. Makes your heartbeat start to climb until it’s in your ears, an incessant reminder of your retreat from the spotlight.
There are a plethora of people in every direction you look. Do they notice your trembling hands? The bottle of pills in your jacket pocket? Can they tell you’re in over your head?
So many people. So many pairs of eyes.
And then, just when you think you’ll be swallowed whole, there’s Peli blasting her way through the crowd with waving arms and shrill exclamations, providing you a path to freedom. The rush of absolute relief nearly has you sinking to the floor, but she’s quick to latch onto your wrist, towing you to sanctuary in a quieter room away from access of the general public.
“Thanks, Peli,” you say, letting out a shaky breath as the tension digging into your spine starts to loosen.
“Don’t mention it, LB,” she shrugs, then nods at something off to the side. “I figured it’d go smoother if I saved your hide instead of tin can man. He looks like a biter—and not in the sexy way.”
“What?” Sometimes your engineer makes no damn sense. You look at where she’d gestured, first noticing Ahsoka (the young Togrutan mechanic had practically stubbornly glared you into letting her come along) talking animatedly to—
Your eyes widen.
“He…” you trail off, mouth abruptly dry. “He actually came?”
“Well, yeah,” Peli replies, looking back and forth with furrowed eyebrows. “You invited him, didn’t you? He told me he wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Funny. Last thing he said to you, back in that diner one week ago, standing up from the table with an expression devoid of the previous softness, was, “I’m nobody’s puppet, not even yours. Find someone else.”
It’s kind of ridiculous, really, the way everything else fades away the longer you stare at Din. The gaudy banners in all capital fonts seem to blur and the colorful bouquets of balloons lose their vibrance. The Din Djarin Effect, you used to call it, a comforting distraction to indulge in when the rest of the world felt too close, too much all at once.
You give yourself a tiny shake, forcing yourself to blink. Today’s too important for your career to lose focus.
Walking up to the pair, you greet Ahsoka first with a friendly nudge of your elbow against her arm. Blue eyes widen in surprise before she beams at you, utterly oblivious to the straightening of Din’s posture you catch out of the corner of your gaze.
“Lightning, you made it!” Ahsoka’s one of your youngest employees, full of big emotions and just a tad bit impulsive at times, but Peli swears she’s got one of the brightest minds for vehicular engineering the woman’s ever come across in all her years. And that’s the exact kind of talent you want to surround yourself with these days.
“Welcome to the madhouse,” Din remarks dryly, and you hate the instant locking of your eyes with his, the sensation of a loss of control of your own self. You hate the reminder that for all the things time and distance have changed, there still remain some constants entirely uninfluenced by either.
Still. Better to have loved and lost than to have continued down the road you and your ex-boyfriend had been on, pretending things were fine when they were anything but. And having him here in Mos Espa, looking at you, speaking to you, that’s more than you had dared to hope for one week ago, parting ways in the diner; definitely more than five years ago, breaking up in the middle of your living room.
You smile at him, unable to stop yourself. Another one of those pesky constants you can’t shake. “I’m glad you came,” you tell him genuinely. Then, a hint of teasing, “Forgot how nice you look all dolled up.”
He has ditched his usual oil-stained clothes for his clan armor, Mandalorian beskar pristinely forged by his mentor to fit his exact measurements. The rare metal glints dangerously in the afternoon sunshine streaming through the skylights, a far contrast from the soft and silky fabrics of the expensive suits other men have chosen for the occasion. It’s purposeful, this look, there isn’t a doubt in your mind. You can already imagine the numerous photos of champagne and fancy ties and plastic smiles online, and there Din will be, stubbornly resisting to blend in.
Honestly though? You would’ve been upset if he’d tried.
His lips curl at the corner. “You don’t look half bad yourself, mesh’la.”
Maker. You’re tiptoeing the line of dangerous territory, feeling hot all over in a way that has nothing to do with the temperature. And judging from that look in Din’s eyes, a daring sort of regard, the bastard knows it.
“Have you seen the new Fett Firespray?” Ahsoka asks, her voice startling you out of your staring contest. Embarrassing, how easily you’d forgotten she was standing right next to you.
“It’s uglier than a shaved bantha’s ass,” Din remarks, so utterly deadpan it takes an incredible amount of self-discipline not to bark out a laugh.
Ahsoka huffs, the kind of sound kids make when they think an adult has said something stupid. Maker, she really is young, isn’t she? “It wasn’t that bad. All those customization options for the interior were pretty cool.”
The unimpressed scowl twisting Din’s mouth tells you exactly what he thinks about the options. Pretty cool definitely isn’t his opinion on the matter. No, you’d bet it’s on the complete other end of the spectrum. Which means that’s where your opinion can also be found.
Ahsoka may be the brightest of her generation, but Din is Din. When it comes to cars, there’s no one’s judgment you trust more. Another constant that’ll stretch the length of your combined lifetimes.
Fennec Shand and Peli approach at your side, putting an end to your conversation with Din before you’re ready for it. Your fists clench against the nervous energy pulsing in tandem with your heartbeat, then immediately slacken upon registering the unknown Duros accompanying them, red eyes peering at you with scrutiny.
“I’d like you all to meet the senior vice president of Fett Motor, Cad Bane.” Fennec introduces with a respectful dip of her chin, hands clasped behind her back. Her hair is styled in another long braid with intricately woven orange ties holding every strand in place. “Bane, this is Lightning Bolt.”
Rather than shake your outstretched hand, Bane merely tips his wide-brimmed hat in acknowledgement. His crimson stare never lessens in its intensity, as sharp as the pointy teeth peeking from his lipless mouth when he speaks.
“Afternoon, little lady. You look…rather ordinary outside of a race car,” he says, and that’s enough for you to determine three things. One: his voice is as deep and gravelly as the depths of a bottomless chasm. Two: he’s a master at intimidation. And three: he’ll mercilessly squish you beneath the heel of his boot the second you let your guard down.
You absolutely cannot show weakness in front of him.
“Ah, well, despite what the tabloids might say, I’ve always been just a regular, ordinary mortal girl.” You force your mouth up into a small grin, tacking on a rueful little laugh you learned over the years will smooth the spikes of even the prickliest of bastards. Hard to tell if it works on Bane, his features so stoic they might as well be carved out of stone. “I brought along one of my best mechanics, Ahsoka Tano. And this is my–”
You cut yourself off, triggered by the inaccuracy. The acknowledgement that Din isn’t your anything anymore. Once upon a time you were so close you might as well have been the same person. Tangled up in each other’s souls. Indistinguishable. LightningandDin. But the way Din’s looking at you, guarded in a way you aren’t used to seeing, well. Not everything can remain a constant after five years.
Surprisingly, though, Din saves you from having to make up a label on the spot. “We’ve met.”
The curtness of his delivery throws you off. Your eyebrows furrow, flicking a quick glance between the two men, sensing a frosty tension that wasn’t there mere seconds ago.
“Yes,” Bane says, something in the drawl of the word you can’t determine. But it definitely isn’t pleasant. “We have.”
Curiosity and wariness fizzle uncomfortably in your stomach. Here and now isn’t the time or place to ask questions. Too many eyes. Too many cameras.
The whole thing feels very…sharp. One wrong move and someone will wind up scarred forever. The jackrabbiting beat of your heart doesn’t offer any comfort to the situation either.
A hand lightly grasping your elbow is almost enough to have you biting through your bottom lip. Jerking your head to your side, you meet Fennec’s even gaze. A calm port in this brewing storm.
“Walk with me?” It’s phrased as a request, but you and the woman both know it isn’t one. “There are a few details I need to discuss with you.”
You nod, and follow after Fennec with your head bowed, focusing on the taps of her boots against the stone floor. She leads you to another private room, a small nook empty except for a pair of Gamorrean security guards standing near a door which opens up to the courtyard swarming with people waiting for the big news to be announced. You suck in a breath, feeling like for the first time since you arrived your lungs stretch to their fullest capacity.
“So, what is it?” you ask. “What details do we need to talk about?”
Fennec leans back against the wall. “Before you go give your speech, I need to make sure we’re on the same page regarding our future partnership and procedure going forward.”
You try your best, but you can’t stop the incredulous arching of your eyebrow. “Are you checking that I read the fine print of the contract?”
And something interesting happens then. Fennec’s jaw quirks, the faintest, most miniscule display of unease. “Well, it’s just–”
“Page 3 paragraph 2 explicitly states that responsibility for the day to day practical affairs of the Fett race team is handled by me,” you cut in, pointing your index finger at your chest. The bottle of pills in your pocket rattles with the movement, drawing Fennec’s eyes there for a split second before your sharp glare has them recentering on your face once more.
“That’s correct,” she agrees. There’s a carefulness to her voice you’ve heard before many times in your own tone. Used when the topic of conversation is a potentially explosive one that could result in tempers flying. “Day to day stuff, that’s your job. But in regard to broader decisions that may or may not affect the wider company…” Her tongue runs over her lower lip, buying a pause to plan her next words, before she eventually comes out with, “There’s going to have to be some give and take with the gotra.”
“The gotra,” you repeat, audibly clumsy and unfamiliar coming out of your mouth.
“Senior creatives, Lightning.” Her expression is back to annoyingly neutral. “Just so everybody involved is comfortable.”
“Well, color me confused, Fennec.” You draw yourself up to full height, arms crossing over your chest. You might not be as intimidating as Cad Bane, but no one survives long in the racing world without a bit of iron in their spine and fire in their stare. “Because up until this exact moment, I was comfortable.”
“Look out there,” Fennec says, gesturing with a tilt of her head towards the courtyard, an MC standing on stage addressing the crowd. The same one you’ll be giving a speech to only a handful of minutes from now. “What do you see?”
Your eyes drift over each of the figures. There’s an air about them, sensed even from where you stand, suggesting they’ve never changed a tire in their lives, let alone picked up a hydrospanner. They’re pencil pushers, not grease monkeys.
“You know what I see?” Fennec asks rhetorically when you say nothing, pointing a nail painted onyx black at the door. “A machine. Thousands of parts moving hopefully in harmony because it’s my job to make it so. And it’s my job to guide you through it.” The nail’s aimed at you now. You swallow, your mouth dry. “I am here to help you, Lightning Bolt. But we have to trust each other.”
A crack splits open your chest, aching and inflamed, upon the realization that Din was right. Controlling people is their specialty. You press your lips together into a thin line, knowing the assurance Fennec wants but you’re reluctant to give it. Trusting others has never been easy for you. It’s something that must be fairly earned, not handed out carelessly. That’s how you spare yourself unnecessary pain.
The presenter’s wrapping up his opening welcome, you can hear the applause like distant thunder. You pull out your pill bottle, mechanically opening it and popping two into your mouth, all too aware of Fennec watching the entire process. The meds taste like ash on your tongue, scraping the tender inside of your throat, but they’ll serve their purpose of keeping you numb onstage.
Tucking the bottle back away, you start to turn for the door. “Excuse me, Fennec.”
“Lightning,” she holds up a hand, reaching for your shoulder then quickly backtracking, awkwardly hovering in front of you. “Do not go on that stage if you don’t trust me.”
You stare her down. “I said, excuse me.”
Hearing the firmness in your tone, Fennec sighs, her shoulders slumping marginally. She yields and moves out of your way.
The walk up to the stage, the shaking of hands and greetings along the way–none of it truly registers. You’re just going through the motions. Like you’re on autopilot. Like…like someone else is pulling the strings.
“Hello everyone,” you say into the microphone, voice steady and emotions tightly wound in the depths of your chest. You introduce yourself with a bright, picture perfect smile. “Most of you probably know me better as Lightning Bolt though. And like my cars, I’ll make this fast.”
The crowd ripples with laughter, softening the edges of your smile into a slightly more genuine one. Sometimes there’s no reaction, just blank stares or, worse, eye rolls. Speeches have about a fifty-fifty risk of making you feel like you’re flying high or that you’ve just struck concrete face first. You never quite know what to expect until after your first attempt of cracking the ice.
This time, you’re soaring.
“I was just a youngling when my mother told me the luckiest souls are those who know what they want to do. Because they’ll never work a day in their lives.” The crowd shifts a little and you catch a glimpse of Fennec and Bane standing together with other authoritative-looking figures, including a massive black-furred Wookiee–the gotra you were warned about, you assume. It’s the man further behind them though, beskar gleaming like there’s a spotlight trained directly on him, that has your heart leaping. “But I’ve come to learn there’s a precious few in the galaxy who find something that they have to do with their lives. An obsession they can’t shake. Pushing them to their farthest corners.”
You’re hyper-aware of the hundreds of eyes on you–of Din’s eyes on you, sunlight turning the dark brown into liquid gold smoldering in a forge–and you rapidly try to organize your thoughts as memorized words spill from your lips because time is running out and you have to make a decision.
Why is it, whenever you find yourself faced with making one of the hardest choices of your life, Din can be found at the bleeding center? Why do they always involve him?
“I’m one of ‘em.” You remind yourself to take a breath, that you have to breathe even as it feels like your insides are being crushed. “And I know one man who feels exactly the same.”
Din hasn’t blinked, staring at you like he always does in your dreams, and just like in those dreams all you want is to reach out and touch him.
“His name…”
He’s your weakness. Always has been, always will be.
“His name is Boba Fett.”
Time seems to stand still, captured in ice, chilling you to the bone, and Din’s eyes have widened, you can see it from here, see how he can’t believe what you’ve just said.
And you–you taste the name like poison. You’ve never even met the Daimyo, unable to cut out a hole in his schedule big enough for a face to face conversation with you. He didn’t even come out of his palace to make an appearance at his own damn car launch. You can’t pull your words out of the air though, can’t erase them from anyone’s minds because the ice shatters with roaring applause.
You might smile, your lips are numb so it’s hard to tell. You want to say: Forgive me, love. Forgive me for surrendering to them. Maybe you would if not for the threat of the gotra hanging above your head like a knife.
Some things must be hidden behind closed doors. And sometimes…sometimes you must put your career first above all else.
Averting your gaze back to Fennec, you nod at her as you pitch your voice over the cheers. “And together, we’ll make history. We’re going to build and race the fastest car the BEC’s ever seen. I personally guarantee it.”
You step back from the podium and wave both hands, pretending it’s excitement twisting your guts into knots. You might’ve fallen for it, if not for the last second guilty glance at the back of the crowd, stomach dropping at the lack of familiar brown eyes and beskar.
Funny, how quickly soaring can switch to plummeting when one flies too close to the sun.
And all you can do now is brace for the inevitable impact, hoping you made the right choice.
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sam Character Analysis
Sam is a character that we see during the first chapter of the game, much like the rest of the members of staff. Interestingly enough, instead of being a teacher like the rest of the staff, he runs a shop on school grounds.
A shop that's said to have anything and everything. If someone needs something, chances are Sam has it. Somehow.
Sam himself is portrayed as a confident, charismatic, business-suave, relatively easygoing person. He has a good relationship with a good portion of the student body. He can be found going back and forth on prices with Ruggie, helping out students with what they need (for a price), and he even offers jobs out to the students during New Years.
Now, Sam can definitely be shady, considering he always seems to know exactly what someone wants. Making various references to having "friends" that people can't see, and even calling some of the students imps. It's heavily implied that he's probably made a few deals with a couple of demons, or something close to it. Which in turn helps him watch things around campus so he can see exactly what people want, how much they want it, and how much they can spend on it.
It could be debated as to why Sam decided to settle down in NRC of all places. He's relatively young, and the shop is his, so the shop itself is probably a new thing to school grounds. It can be assumed that students went to the town on Sage Island to get things before, since various characters have dialogue suggesting that they can in fact leave campus at various points, so why did Sam choose to settle down in NRC?
If he settled down in town instead of NRC, he would have many more costumers than what he currently has, and chances are the student body would still go to his shop.
Realistically, I could think of about four reasons. Firstly, he can monopolize the student body by being in the closest range of them. While students have talked about going to the town on Sage Island, there have been other dialogues that suggest that they need permission from Crowley to do so, and Crowley probably wouldn't give them permission if there was someone on school property they could go to. Secondly, NRC hosts a lot of important people. Important people that have more than enough money to spend. Thirdly, with the nature of NRC students, they might have something that Sam himself wants. We see this in Floyd's Dorm Uniform Vignette, where Floyd give's Sam a priceless gemstone in exchange for a recipe and monopoly on a drink he was sealing. And fourthly, as it can be summarized that Sam has dealings with something, that he probably shouldn't, there's a chance that it's heavily frowned upon. NRC isn't known for having upright individuals, so he can stay at NRC and be as open about his "friends" without having to hide it.
Sam himself is a businessman that will try and turn most situations in his favor to gain a profit. Hence, taking advantage of the market that is NRC students as he does. Though, he either has a better set of morals then some of the students, or he's contracted to be limited in what he can do (unlikely with how Crowley is, but it's a possibility). I say this because he is willing to haggle with prices with students he knows don't have a lot of cash, but he will whole-heartedly take advantage of Crowley when Crowley himself is in a pinch.
This might be because Sam himself might know what its like to grow up and struggle with money, it would explain why he's so set in his business-suave ways by the time we meet him in the series. It might be why he also has the "friends" that he does and henceforth is willing to haggle with prices with students that don't have a whole lot of cash to spend. Or maybe it's because he knows they don't have cash to spend, but he still wants to them to spend it to make revenue, so that's why he's willing to haggle the prices.
(Though, even though he is willing to haggle prices, he won't do anything that will risk him losing money. He can also be pretty high pressure, throwing in items last minute to trick the students into buying them without consideration.)
There's really no telling, simply because the staff members don't give a lot of information about themselves. Sam less so than the others, especially since he doesn't even have a last name. Though, considering, depending on the folklore, creatures of the veil are willing to trade with names, he might have given away his last name to make the "friends" he has.
In fact his "friends" might be the entire reason why he sells some of the strange items that he does. Considering the fact that they are probably demons, they might be looking for other people to latch onto. NRC, with the fact that it's a villain's school, would be a good place to latch on to someone. Which might be another reason why Sam has chosen to station himself on the school property of all places.
#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twst#twst wonderland#twst fandom#disney twisted wonderland#Disney twst wonderland#twst sam#character analysis
22 notes
·
View notes
Note
I wonder how many followers Jess will lose when Jamie breaks up with her, no one really knew her before Jamie started dating her, Jess is famous because of Jamie and the fact that she keeps losing followers proves it, I I feel like Jamie is avoiding her or trying to avoid her on social media.
I think the fact that Jess hasn't posted anything about Jamie's sobriety (which is something important to him) on IG and that she posts pictures of celebrities from her "business" is going to get everyone's attention her followers and Jamie's followers and will ask questions about the fact that she is not supporting him, by not posting something for Jamie and that she is posting something of "her work".
I think she will continue to lose followers, because she has lost the respect of Jamie and her stans.
According to some article I saw around the time Jess was announced as Jamie's girlfriend it said she had either 26K or 28K followers on her IG account. I don't remember which it said and I'm too lazy to go find the article.
That's still an incredibly high amount for someone who does literally nothing. If you scroll all the way back to her first few posts they got little to no likes/engagement for the following that she already did have which leads me to believe a very large portion of her follower account was (and always has been bought).
I do know periodically Instagram purges bot accounts but they aren't that great at it so I would think that even if some of the followers she's losing now are accounts she purchased to follow her it can't be all of them. If it was all bots when Instagram purges them they don't do it slowly over weeks it's like a massive hit at once (or that's what I remember maybe they changed their tactics).
If she is only losing bot accounts (possible) then this just goes to show how many thousands of followers she purchased to boost her account. Which is shady as fuck. I'm guessing it's a mix of people and bots and I'm also guessing it's people that know what's going on with her in real life and why she's suddenly so quiet. It must have something to do with why she's following that account that says it's for sale because why else would she be interested in that account?
I think that people who legitimately followed her because of Jamie (not really because they liked her)
Got bored with the lack of Jamie content
Started to notice how uncomfortable he was in photos with her
Realized that she's not very supportive of him at all and only posts when he does to try to get traffic to her account.
I think Jamie figured out something was up with her way before I even started this account. I think he figured it out around Liverpool when he told her to stop coming to conventions with him and then also severely restricted her from posting him on her account and in her stories. He must have been waking up to this for a long time. It probably also didn't all happen at once and he'd certainly be in some level of denial over it as well. Things have been going downhill for them since she stopped attending conventions and they got even worse with that horrible "birthday party" she threw for him in November.
Though the stans want to make up the dumbest excuses in the world for this, like Jess is "private" or she has to hide for her own safety or whatever reason helps them stay blind to what's going on, the writing is on the wall. This is an impending breakup, they don't like it, and they are going to lose their absolute shit when it happens. As for Jess, I think she'll drastically lose followers (like before) or entirely change accounts (as in, buy that account that's for sale that she's following or another one) and try to pretend she's someone else entirely but with a much higher following than she started with. She won't stop scamming people or doing what she's doing but it'll be a lot harder now that she's had this exposure from what she's done to Jamie.
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
How do you think your thoughts on death note from when you first read it changed it compared to now? Was there any notable change?
Hello, thanks for the nice ask! ^^
BACK IN THE 2000s:
So in 2008ish my initial introduction to the series was watching the Japanese dub of the anime. I only bothered with reading the first five volumes of the manga (L's portion) and then the Another Note novel, and most of my ideas of the second arc and its characters and so on were fuzzy at best. After that I mostly only participated in the fandom through reading and writing a bit of fanfic on fanfiction.net. I befriended one of the fic writers I admired there through private messages on ff.net ("serria" was her name, her fics are still worth a read now!) and then I sort of lurked the DN fandom on LiveJournal for the next couple of years simply by following her fandom LJ too. But I wasn't nearly as personally involved in the fandom or as knowledgeable about the series back then as I am now. I think I mostly based my ideas of the characters off of the fanfics I read, and I often took many fanon things as canon, especially about the characters like Mello and Near, simply because I was mostly interested in L, Light, and B.
I'd say that the atmosphere in the fandom was always a pretty friendly and inviting one, and that the same ships and characters that are most popular nowadays are still the same ones as back then. But back then people were generally a bit more edgy and less politically correct on the regular, too (which was basically just the case for absolutely everything back in the 2000s, of course). There was a lot of liking mlm ships and being kinda homophobic while also not claiming to be queer in any way yourself (although I imagine many of these fans have since realized they are queer, as was the case for myself), and you'd often see writers and artists disclaiming things like that you better watch out because "sinful" gay content is going to be coming up ahead, etc. The characterizations were often a bit more black and white and simplistic in how people would portray the characters as either heroes or villains, and there was a lot of either hating on or ignoring the female characters in the series altogether too (Misa especially. She gets a lot more love now than she ever did back then). People are way more chill and willing to laugh at all the characters and their flaws now without automatically getting defensive or fighting a ton about their ships now too, which is definitely the kind of laid-back, peaceful atmosphere I thrive in most.
I think the main ways that my thoughts and feelings toward the series personally changed when I reread it in my 20s were that I appreciated the manga WAY more this time around, and I realized how gorgeous the drawings are and how intentionally funny in a darkly ironic way the manga is as well. It didn't really occur to me how tongue-in-cheek and self-aware so much of the story's tone was back when I was younger, but it definitely did the second time around!
I was also a bit taken aback by how shady and interestingly morally grey some of the characters like L came off in the manga, because my memories of how I viewed him back in the day and how a lot of the fandom viewed him was that he was purely meant to be seen as the "good guy" in the show. I think I had a MUCH better appreciation for how great and complicated a character Light is the second time around as well, and I was super impressed by the quality of the new fanfics that I read, which I think are on average way better written now than most of the ones from the earlier fandom days.
I was also shocked to realize that I STILL really feel like L and Light maybe should have kissed, because I wasn't at all intentionally setting out to ship Lawlight the second time around, but it just kinda felt impossible for me not to notice there was a ton of spicy chemistry going on and a lot of interesting repression built into Light's character in particular that is very easy to read as queer. And that it was totally apparent to me in the manga too. Because before revisiting it I assumed I had only read anything gay or shippy into things as a teenager due to the anime rain scene being added in, but nope!
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Collector’s Market
Masterlist
Light wind glides along gently to ruffle the leaves of elegant golden-green willow trees in the lavish garden of the palace. It’s spring, and nature has finally revived its beauty to shimmer in the sunlight and be glanced upon in wonder. Flowers blanket most surfaces outside, the scent of pollen nearly overwhelming, yet so welcome after such a harsh winter. Even the most unkempt parts of the simple grass, there to be walked on in-between the slabs of a path in the ground seem to be revitalised with energy so pure that it feels wrong to crush the little blades under one’s shoe. It feels much more inviting to feel the soft green under bare feet.
The garden is quite the sight. Extraordinarily gorgeous in the spring, overgrown just enough to not seem too artificial and unnatural for the eye. It is built in a way that doesn’t make it seem like it only exists because the owner had the money for it, but it does because someone had a vision, care and money. Whoever had birthed this place cares about it dearly, and I can appreciate a person of integrity.
I stand in the midst of all this beauty, but it is not what I came for. In fact, it is quite hard to ignore the eyesore of the smaller crowds ruining the painting, polluting the air and cutting through the song of the birds with their mutterings and gross cackles.
The people each came here invited, and I am having trouble seeing how that is possible. No one makes it in here uninvited, not only because the guards are allowed to deal with intruders as they please, but also because no one should even know about this event outside of the Collector’s circle of acquaintances. It is strictly a secret; to even talk about it in public can be a fatal error, as the Collector is known to hunt down any tattletales who are stupid enough to talk about where they were when they aren’t supposed to.
The event itself is a market. An illegal one at that. The market isn’t the illegal part, more so the goods.
The Collector, once in a while, will choose a good portion of their collection to give away. The illegal part comes in from the origins of such collections. The items are nothing unlawful themselves, but the way they ended up in the hands of the Collector is more often than not bloody, or shady at best. Stolen, blackmailed, murdered, taken, inherited from someone who did the same to have it, — so on and so forth. A painting long believed to be lost to time, a statue of a king everyone forgot about, heirloom of a noble family that mysteriously disappeared, a crown of a country that thinks the real one sits in their own national museum, a couple lost sketches said to belong to Leonardo da Vinci himself… Priceless artefacts that have no business being here, lined up outside behind glass on tables, each guarded heavily with assault rifles on full display, carried by men in suits standing at the ready just off to the side.
Some have complained about the excessive security measures, but the Collector didn’t want to hear any of it, saying that their men were trained and threatened well to avoid shooting anything valuable, and even if they do so on accident, they’d rather have their treasures destroyed than stolen right out of their own home. I can see how that would be quite an embarrassing occurrence, but the pride of a person who would rather such high value precious items be destroyed than taken does irritate me ever so slightly. To go so widely known as ‘The Collector’ and be so content with the possibility of demolishing your own collection to escape the light ridicule following in the event of theft is… laughable, to say the least. Kills the mystery to know that even someone as ruthless and powerful as them have their weaknesses.
Nevertheless, the event is going like it always is. People in pairs or groups, a few loners going about their business like everyone else. Idle chatter of the privileged, rich and influential, alcohol in everyone’s hands and systems, flaunting of power that could so easily be crushed by anyone. If only they knew how little their puny wealth means in the face of true danger, then they wouldn’t be so comfortable surrounded by guns in an enclosed space at an event no one knows about.
Huh, that’s a funny thought. Imagining them all screaming and crying at the first sign of something going wrong. Makes me smile.
And as if on cue, on the note of ‘something going wrong’ I hear someone run towards me from behind. I turn swiftly to look, but they have already ran face first into my chest. I catch them and help us both stay upright before I decide how big a scene I want to make of this, of some little idiot crashing into me like they’re out in public. Most others here would be screeching just from the contact and demanding an apology already.
They look up at me, and I see their eyes lock onto mine for only half a second before they start looking around wildly for someplace to run, like they are being chased by rabid dogs. Their breathing is erratic, skin wet, hair dishevelled. People tell me I have a keen eye for detail, and they must be right; as in the one second of silent panic from them, I denounce that they must be in the process of escaping from someone or somewhere. Their clothes are torn, a shoe is missing, they are sickly pale, malnourished, nails long with dirt under them — and the most important details being the barely hidden injuries all over their body. Bruises on their shins, clean cuts running under their shirt collar, hand marks on multiple limbs and the neck, a split purplish lip and many more even I couldn’t pick up on that quickly.
Their eyes return to me again, a wild, barely controlled fear in them, exhaustion clear in the weeks worth of darkness under them. If this isn’t a runaway, I don’t know what is.
And then, instead of the expected 'I’m so sorry!’, something much more surprising explodes out of them; — “Please, pl-, please hide me! Please help, just let me hide behind you, I beg you, please don’t let him c-catch me!”
It seems I was right about the escape part and I think I’m bound to be even more right if I get the chance to understand what the hell is going on.
“Is that any way to talk to someone you almost sent crashing to the ground just now?” — I start, my tone purposefully passive-aggressive, — “Come on, you’re lucky I was able to catch you before you did, otherwise you’d be in much — ”
“Never-, never mind! Just, I need to-, I’m sorry I have to go-!”
They seem to be in too much of a hurry to listen to me, which has me even more interested in this little thing. Therefore, I can’t simply let them go like that now, can I.
They go to round me and keep sprinting, but they are grabbed by the wrist and pulled right back around before they could make any real distance. And to make sure to drive the point home just a little more, that same wrist is now lifted high up in the air, making them suddenly come face-to-face with me again. It seems to trigger something in them, because while they were scanning the area like a meerkat in heat just a second ago, their wide dark brown eyes are strictly fixed on mine as soon as they realize the implications in power difference when they pull and their wrist doesn’t budge.
Deciding to cut right to the chase, as it were, now that we are both in mutual understanding of exactly who is who here, I tilt my head at them with a jarringly serious expression compared to the one I had before. No need to play games anymore, we both know what’s going on.
“Who are you running from?” — I ask the straightforward question.
“Y-You, you need to help me, please, he can’t find me-”
Their wrist must throb suddenly from the force of my grip almost lifting them off the ground, and their other hand comes up as they gasp, trying to force my fingers away, seemingly unsure if asking me for help was really a good idea, — “Who? Who can’t find you? I want a name, or appearance, not demands.”
A couple eyes have already settled on this little situation, and I’m sure they can feel them watching too. They turn around as best they can to hopefully not see the one following them, but their struggling renews and their breathing is steadily quickening in pace again as they presumably lay eyes on just the right person.
I don’t even have to look very hard. I can see someone speed walking right this way, looking pissed and just as pathetic as expected. Young too, a bratty teenager born into wealth most likely. Lovely. Fantastic even. If he starts making a scene I will not be holding back, he can go cry to his parents all he wants.
“Please, please, he’ll hurt me- he’ll kill me if he sees me- Please, you don’t know wh-what he’s capable of! ” — they stammer, their feet planted on the ground so hard their knees visibly shake.
Now that’s funny. They look at me in shock and confusion when I chuckle at their desperate ranting. ‘You don’t know what he’s capable of' — yeah, right.
“You serious? That little thirteen year old twink scares you more than me? That’s the funniest shit I’ve heard all week.”
“No, you don’t get it, just-!”
“I think I understand perfectly well, sweetheart,” — I cut him off with a condescending smirk, hoping to see a little spark in their eyes at the pet name.
They let out a frustrated, hopeless huff of air and regress into a sad little ball hanging from my clutch. They look like they’re trying to work up their remaining courage to look into the eyes of their torturer once more, and at that moment they could pass as a miserable, wet stray kitten. I can see their Adam’s apple bobbing with the effort to keep their emotions from flowing out in an explosion of sound, I can see the tears building behind their eyelids, I can feel their body lose strength rapidly as they deflate. If anything, they seem to be used to giving up, which tells me they must have been in captivity for a good while, and that they weren’t very confrontational to begin with, most likely.
Looking at them makes me pity them. Such a sweet thing in the grubby little hands of a pitiful spoiled brat who doesn’t even know how to keep them. Like he’d be deserving of a soul like this one, requiring gentle care and encouragement. I bet he’d fail to keep a fish alive, much less a person.
I can see him storming his way right towards us now, clearly having noticed his captive hanging here, and I can already hear him shouting something from over there. The escapee jolts and whimpers at the sound and — I have made my decision.
“ …you fucking hear me, you little bitch? You think you can just fucking run away from me? Huh?” — comes the incessant babbling from the kid.
He stinks of weed and sounds about two years old. How charming.
He finally reaches us and immediately goes to grab them, but I pull them away before he could. They cry out, expecting a hit or to be dragged away, but are perplexed when they find themself behind me, still held, but protected. They are trembling.
“Hey, dude, what are you doing? You tryin’ to fucking piss me off too?”
Certainly.
“Ah, of course not. But coming to me in such rude fashion, shouting, grabbing my things… Not the most — ”
“What? The fuck? Grabbing your things? Are you fucking blind?” — he cuts me off quite spectacularly, obviously not having any idea nor care of who he’s talking to.
“Not blind, but deaf might be an option if you keep screaming at me like — ”
“Ohhh, you are pissing me off now. Give me that little fucker already and fuck off,” — he cuts in again, quickly becoming far too annoying.
He reaches for them again, and I back away from him swiftly, the little one following suit on the tiptoes still reaching the ground. They try to tear out of my grasp again, but are unsuccessful, and look up at me with a frown, which I return with a smile. They look even more distressed than they did before, and it does warm my heart.
His patience seems to be running out. How scary. — “Did you not hear what I fucking said? Give me. The bitch. Or you’ll regret it.”
I turn to him with the same smile and he seems to find it more condescending than anything, which prompts him to wind up for a punch to the face. He hits nothing but air, as I dodge effortlessly.
“Oh, am I regretting it yet? I don’t feel very regret-”
Another punch and I jump backwards, almost knocking the scared bundle of hopelessness behind me to the ground.
“-ful,” — I finish belatedly.
Then another, which almost hits the escapee, and when the next one comes, I catch it in my free hand, not letting it go.
“You know, I’m getting tired — ”
“You motherfu- ah! Fuck!”
“…of being cut off.”
His hand is twisted upside down, as far as it goes before it can break, and then just enough to make it hurt as the bone fractures and I force him to the ground. He will not stop screaming, will he. I cannot imagine what it must be like to live under the same roof as him. Perhaps that’s why his parents decided to get him a friend. So pathetic.
I can feel wide eyes staring at it all, and tiny hands trying to pull away more and more as the scene goes on, and it makes me excited for the near future.
“Ow, ow, ow, fucking hell, let me fucking go, you fucker!” — he wheezes out, clearly in a lot more pain than he lets on, though he doesn’t do a great job at hiding it from his voice.
He tries to force his other arm to work at freeing himself, but a kick to the sternum has his free palm on the concrete, scraping itself open and drawing blood.
I see something that makes me giggle, and as he looks up at me, his expression changes. His eyes widen, and his furious but dumb expression goes to something deeper and much more delicious. His eyes are filling with tears already.
“Aw, is the big bad wolf crying? Aren’t you gonna fight back? Won’t you make me regret it?” — I tease.
He cries out again, more quivering than furious now, and tries as wildly to pull away as my other captive was, who seems to be frozen now, watching their torturer in pain, on the floor, crying and pathetic. Beaten with one hand, and overpowered with no issue.
The boy is suspiciously quiet suddenly. I bend his forearm further, and he panics, his breathing erratic and whining. I will make him talk even if this is the first time he decided to keep quiet in his life.
“Agh, fucking, stop, stop —”
“Hm? What’s that? You were screaming so proudly; where’s the volume gone all of a sudden? Scream some more,” — I mock him more, purposefully drawing out my syllables and his torment.
Another twist, and a twisted cry of agony to accompany it.
“No, stop, it hurts, y-you’re gonna break it you fuckin’ psychopa- Ahgh!”
He’s having trouble breathing, and his struggles are quickly becoming wild and animalistic. He’s too proud to beg, but for how long? I want to see him grovel. His wrist is making unnatural sounds. His throat is too.
The struggling at my other hand renews, but not to escape. This time, my arm is grabbed and pulled backwards, trying to make me let go of his.
Oh, they think he’s had enough. What a sweetie.
I pull on him hard enough for the joint to pop and for him to flip over and onto the ground in turn. He immediately tries to scramble away gasping, but before he could even make any distance I step on his hand to pin him. He pulls still, and I keep grinding his fingers to dust until he realizes that I want him to stop. After he finally slows his fighting — and cries out another string of horribly uncreative insults, — I turn to look at the other one.
They look like they’re going to pass out, terrified and shocked. They have such a hard grip on my arm from when they tried to pull me away that their knuckles are white and their grip is shaking. Their eyes are stuck on their tormentor crying on the ground, kneeling in the dirt and unable to escape — just like them. They look at him and see themself, and it makes them feel uncomfortable. Such a sweet soul, unable to see others in pain, even when said other is their worst nightmare.
They turn to me finally when they realize I’m staring, and they let go of me so suddenly that they almost trip as they back away. This is much better. Having such an adorable thing be scared of someone so undeserving was hard to watch.
“Are you still scared of him?” — I ask with a tone reserved for their kind, much unlike the one I used on the boy snivelling in the dirt.
They slowly shake their head, not even looking at him. They don’t know what they should feel, but that is expected.
“Do you think any of what he said is true?” — I ask more.
They don’t answer that one. They think as soon as he’s let go I will be hunted down. That he will have revenge on both me and them. Ridiculous, but again, expected.
“…Do you think he has learned his lesson?” — I inquire, something in my voice telling them that I could continue if they say no.
They nod furiously at that. Cute. I turn back to the pathetic pile of dirt under my foot. He screams as I twist his hand under my sole.
“Have you?”
“Yes, fucking yes, whatever, just let me go for fuck’s sake!” — he is crying and to his credit, at least he hadn’t gone silent like how I expected. These types usually present so loud because the only times they aren’t are when they are miserable.
He’s scared too, and does a sad job of hiding it behind anger, as his tears and quivering lips give it away. And his pitchy breaking voice. He really is lucky, — while I am perfectly confident in teaching him a lesson, stealing him away would be far too complicated and messy because of his family. They would send an army of assassins after me to get their child back and that’s simply too annoying to be dealt with every day, no matter how fun it is to show him how to really hurt someone. Not to mention, burning bridges before even crossing them would be foolish.
I give him a long thoughtful hum, and step off him, — “Okay!”
He doesn’t waste any time getting himself off the ground and running back to where he came from with his tail between his legs and his broken arm clutched close. Once a safe distance away, he seemingly can’t help turning back and yelling something at me again, but I can’t even make it out, nor do I care. I hear some people chuckle at the display, and I’m glad that they at least enjoyed the show. They must’ve had it out for him too.
“Um… C-Can I g-, I-I, I mean! Thank you, um, mister. For helping. May I please go now?” — the now free captive asks timidly, already terrified of what they will have to endure for the rescue, and even more fearful of the possibility that it wasn’t really a rescue as much as it was a change in sadists.
As I turn to them once again, they visibly shrink and it gives me a certain warmth in my stomach to cause a reaction like that. Their hair is a mess and a lock is hanging over their face, so I reach out to flick it away. They flinch and look to the ground. Submissive.
“Mhmm. Not yet. Protection comes with a cost. Especially protection from the child of one of the most influential families in this half of the world. You understand, I’m sure,” — I explain generously.
I smile at them kindly, but it does little to calm them. In fact, it might just scare them more.
“Um, uh, y-, yes, you’re right, but, but I don’t, I can’t really um… Pay for anything. Please, I can return the favour in the future!” — they try, no doubt praying to whatever they believe in I let them go so they can shuffle away into a corner so hidden no one will ever find them again.
“Oh, but you don’t even know what I want from you.”
That sentence freezes them, and I’m sure they’re thinking about much worse things than what I mean. Or, maybe they aren’t.
“Please, I p-promise to make it up to you, I swear on my life — ”
But I’m not listening. Their little wrist looks so easy to snap. Their collarbones are so prominent up close from the starvation. Their skin so sensitive and marred, glowing in the sunlight after who knows how long without it. Long lashes and worried brows framing bloodshot exhausted eyes. Tears making them sparkle. They’re scared. They’re scared of me. As they should be.
I want to try them out.
I cut off whatever they were mumbling about, —
“Come with me.”
And we start walking towards the exit, without another word. They stumble after me, suddenly panicking again.
“Wait, wait, where are we going-, please, I was serious, I swear I’ll — ”
“Yeah, yeah, I know that,” — I assure him, — “I heard you. We’re going to do exactly that.”
They keep struggling.
“But where are we going?”
I stop and look them in the eyes suddenly, their face frozen in time.
“Does it matter?”
They lose their voice at that. They shake their head, looking like they expect to be hit over the head.
“No, it doesn’t. So, let me feed you, and we’ll see where we go from there,” — I finish for him.
Something about what I said — or perhaps the way I said it — catches their attention. I start dragging them away again, and this time they don’t struggle, only begrudgingly walk along and look at me with suspicion. I test to see if they are thinking of running away, and let go of their wrist to hold their hand warmly in exchange. They don’t say anything, but they do look uncomfortable. They can’t decide if it’s a good or bad sign.
“…Did you buy anything?” — they ask, unused to the silence I’m sure.
“Nothing really caught my attention. Not as much as you,” — I grin at them.
They look embarrassed but don’t say anything more. They fidget and keep looking around. It’s obvious they’re trying to find something to fill the silence with. I’ll humour them.
“Did you see anything interesting?”
They look surprised for a moment, then try to look around again, trying to see if there’s anything they like.
“Mm… Not really. Well, I mean it’s very interesting! I was told these are like, illegal. B-But I won’t tell anyone!” — they correct themself quickly.
‘Oh, honey…'
“I wouldn’t care if you did. None of my business. It is smarter to keep your mouth shut about this place though. The owner doesn’t tolerate snitches,” — I advise warmly.
They nod. They keep their free hand close to their chest. I run a finger over the back of their hand mindlessly, and I can feel them shudder. It prompts them to speak again. It’s clearer than anything that they cope with stress by talking.
“Um, are we going to your house?”
“I don’t know,” — I answer simply. Their brain visually comes to a halt at that.
“…You don’t know?” — they ask again.
“Nope.”
Their expression is the most precious thing I’ve seen today.
“I thought we’ve established that it doesn’t matter,” — I mention.
“Yeah but, you said you’d, u-um, give me food. So I just assumed you’d bring me to your home,” — they venture on carefully. They don’t seem too adamant on following up with anything else. Their body is tensing again.
“Maybe I am. Or maybe I’m bringing you to a restaurant. Or grocery store. Or a trashcan. Still doesn’t really matter, does it?” — There is no danger in my voice, yet they still sound scared.
“I think if it’s a trashcan, it does, actually…” — they mumble, barely a response.
I laugh, but they don’t laugh with me. I clench their hand a slight bit harder and their shoulders rise to hide their neck. They have a lovely neck.
“Are you tired, love?”
They nod. They do look like they have not had a full night’s sleep in a couple months. I wonder if they will feel comfortable enough in my bed to sleep at all. Oh, that’s right, I threw away the ropes from last time. I hope I have some more downstairs, their type always tries to escape at the first opportunity.
“…You want me to carry you?”
“No thanks!” — they yelp out instantly, warmth gathering in their cheeks at the inquiry.
“Haha. Are you sure?” — I ask again, hoping to draw out their adorable reactions a little longer.
“Yep, very,” — they shut me down again immediately.
We reach the long wall of black iron dressed in vines and flowers. The guards look at us for just a second to see if they recognise us, see the little one following along and lift their hat to greet me with a knowing smirk. I wave back and shortly after, we leave the Collector’s perimeters.
They look positively amazed at the knowledge that they are free from their living nightmare. As we leave behind the market, they look at the setting sun like it’s the first time they’ve ever seen it. Their tears return and they forget I’m there for a moment, mouth agape and breath taken. I hear them choking on their emotions and stop to let them have this moment before it’s utterly taken away again.
I let go of their hand and watch them cry out their pain and relief. Like this, with the golden light encircling them and the countless flowers and stars surrounding their form, they look so much better than any old useless artifact from the market. Much more precious too.
“Thank you, ah-again. For helping me. I am so grateful. I thought I was going to, to die in that place,” — they squeak out in-between sobs, trying so hard to form coherent syllables. The tears haven’t stopped flowing, they look gorgeous.
I pull a tissue out and begin to clean their face carefully, which almost makes them break down. Their eyes look gorgeous in the pool of their tears.
“Of course. Like I would miss the opportunity to fuck with that kid. He’s been a thorn in several of my friends’ sides for a good while. Only fair I return the favour,” — I admit without missing a beat. I don’t even have to make anything up, that runt has been quite infamous as far as my little circle of acquaintances go.
In truth, while I have heard some rumours about him, I never paid any mind. But it’s more comforting than 'You looked too perfect to pass up on and I just had to have you’. I don’t want to ruin the moment by scaring them too much.
They swallow and nod, wiping away the rest of the tears with their hand. They take two long breaths and decide to break the silence again.
“So, wh-, where to next? Please don’t tell me we’re really going to a trashcan,” — they add hastily, remembering where the conversation left off suddenly.
I take their hand again and start leading them down the hill to my car, slightly surprised that they already don’t seem to mind the overly intimate gesture between two strangers. A little naïve to be so trusting towards me already, but I’ll chalk it up to their emotions overpowering reason. Or perhaps the fact that they still don’t know how much worse it can really get for them. I will let them live in their little fantasy for a while longer.
“Well, while it does sound quite exciting, I don’t think I’m feeling up to it right now. Nor do I feel like tolerating strangers at this hour. So I guess we’ve got one more option.”
“…um, am I not a stranger?” — they ask uncertainly.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Wait, so I was right? We are going to your house?”
“Yeah,” — I answer with a smirk, hoping to see another good reaction.
They’d almost look angry, if it weren’t for the exhaustion and relief in their face.
“Why didn’t you just say so!” — they yell at me, not truly angry.
“Honestly? Your confused-concerned face is adorable,” — I admit as I gaze at the sun slowly dipping behind the ground.
They look away at that, but not because of fear this time. They look like a friend would at being teased, cheeks puffed out and dramatic. I want to crush them.
“I want you to never say that again,” — they say, way too comfortable already. Perhaps they are too preoccupied with the feeling of freedom to realise how wrong everything should feel right about now.
“Hey now, I told you I don’t like you giving out orders. I’ll call you adorable as much as I want as long as you’re with me. It’s part of your payment, in fact,” — I scold, only half joking.
That seems to unnerve them again and they shrink in on themself once more with an — “Oh,” — Maybe I didn’t sound as humorous as I wanted to.
“Right… Can I know what your actual payment is yet?” — they mumble timidly again, losing a little of their composure at being reminded of their end of the deal they didn’t know they made.
“Hmm…”
I spot the car sitting in the same spot I left it in. I take out the remote to open it from afar and it lights up to signal it’s unlocked. I take the hand holding theirs and lead it up to their back, making their shoulder rise again. I grin down at them.
“No, not yet. But you’ll find out soon enough,” — I assure them with a warm smile. Oh, very soon.
That upsets them greatly, but they say nothing, just let themself be lead to the car, and driven away to a stranger’s home. They are surely telling themself that it can’t be worse than what they have already been through. That they’re overthinking and overreacting. That they should be nothing but thankful for any way they can pay back the relief they were given today. So they stay quiet and obedient, like they’re so used to.
I let them sit in the front and drive off. Finally some peace. While I appreciate the invite, being around such insufferable audience is fatigue-inducing at best. But there’s always something worthwhile to have at the market. Sometimes new decoration, other times valuable information.
And every once in a while, even new toys to break.
#creepy whumper#whumper pov#my writing#whump#whump writing#fear#intimate whumper#bruises#escape attempt#sadistic whumper#reference to torture#reference to captivity#tw: starvation#begging#beating#broken bone#surprise write!!! >:D#very self indulgent#whump drabble#edited
45 notes
·
View notes
Note
6, 23, 36 for Braith
1, 15, 39, 41 for Sorrel
BONUS
B, F, G for Scath and Delia
WHEW A LONG ONE
BRAITH
6: Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable?
She definitely thinks they SHOULD be flexible. Given how the laws have greatly harmed her family, she doesn’t have a lot of respect for hard laws that only benefit those in power or of status. If she had her way she would bend every law in the way of fairness rather than who can cough up the most cash.
23: How does envy manifest itself in them (they take what they want, they become resentful, etc)?
Braith is a nice girl, but she can get very mean and nasty when she gets jealous. The best example is with her family. She has two much younger brothers who are twins and they get a lot of preferential treatment (biggest portion at dinner, prioritised clothing etc.) and because of this she tends to treat them very harsh. She insults them, fights with them and just very openly acts like she wishes they were never born.
NOW THERE IS A DEEPER REASON FOR THIS BUT IT’S A SPOILER SO IM KEEPING MY MOUTH SHUT FOR THE MOMENT.
36: Do they actively seek romance, or do they wait for it to fall into their lap?
She actively seeks romance. She’s very much a shoot your shot kind of person and is actually a big romantic if you catch her eye. Now she can often be way too forward which has made people uncomfortable but she doesn’t really care. She thinks sitting around and waiting is boring and won’t accomplish anything.
SORREL
1: What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?
About ten minutes. Sorrel’s a bit of a fidgety fae and likes constantly having tasks or something to do. Boredom makes them slightly dangerous and may make them lash out. That’s why, in spite of the horrible pay and hellish conditions, they’re grateful for their job helping drive and deliver coal from Iron Fog. They get to be productive, help the people in their community and make a bit of coin for small things.
15: How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?
They’re much more of a thinker. They speak slowly and precisely, choosing words carefully like it’s a puzzle. It’s like they believe their conversation partner is going to try and outwit them. It’s a mindset that’s unusual for a peasant in Revtel.
39: How easy is it for them to ignore flaws in other people?
Very difficult. Sorrel is unnervingly observant and if they catch a flaw or personal weakness, it will always be at the back of their mind. Not even in a malicious way. They don’t even like that this is something they focus on, but it was drilled into their head ever since they were a child.
41: How do they feel about children?
Very neutral. They have younger siblings who get on their last nerve and tend to avoid younger children because of that, but they find older children to be really entertaining. They enjoy delivering coal around where the local gang of hooligans live because they always get very excited to hear about Iron Fog and all the machines.
SCATH AND DELIA
B) What inspired you to create them?
OH BOY so. It actually started with our AU when I was trying to figure out how to fit Mireska’s lore into that modern setting. Knowing that her family were shady in the lore, I ended up doing research into drug cartels and such. For Scath I took inspiration from drug lords while Delia actually was inspired by accounts of their hitmen and body guards. Then their dynamic and relationship with Mireska was inspired a lot by Butterscotch and Beatrice from Bojack Horseman. (Delia in particular was heavily inspired by Beatrice AND SOMETIMES IM SCARED I MAY HAVE JUST RIPPED IT OFF BUT)
F) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?
I get excited. It’s been really fun to write characters that are just, genuinely pretty terrible people. With Delia she’s done some bad, hypocritical and downright cruel things but the circumstances in her life have just, never given her a chance so of course she’s bitter, but that doesn’t excuse her taking it out on her daughter and leaving her family in the dirt because she was too proud to go back to them. While Scath is a complete monster, I love how it stems from this desperation for control and a deeply buried longing for love and admiration that he’s doing all the wrong things to acquire.
They are two horrible, fucked up people who need to divorce and get therapy and leave their daughter alone and I love them.
G) What trait of theirs bothers you the most?
For Scath it’s everything. Okay in seriousness I think it’s his refusal to take any accountability and admit when something’s his fault. I think so much of the tragedy in Sunbreeze could have been avoided if he just let go of his ego and apologised to his wife and child.
With Delia it’s her shaky principles. She knew the Sunbreeze family was bad and they had hurt her parents, but she still ended up sleeping with Scath and chose him over her family and her best friend who was the reason she even had the job as his bodyguard in the first place.
#dota oc#sunbreeze#I AM HAPPY I COULD DEVELOP A BIT ON MIRESKAS FRIENDS#BC SORREL IN PARTICULAR I WAS STUCK ON
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
So I haven’t watched the new episode of The Mandalorian yet, and although I have been enjoying this season for the most part I have had my issues with it. But I have to admit, it is starting to make me not as interested in the show when they keep sidelining Din and giving all the character development to Bo. I have nothing against her getting development. In fact, I’ve liked her more this season than I ever have. But not at the expense of Din’s character development. You can have them both grow, but I think Din should have just as much as time to do so as she has had. And for whatever reason they just haven’t done that yet. There are 3 more episodes left and we have a whole other season, but I feel like we’ve lost focus. I know people have said well it’s called the mandalorian that could mean any of the mandalorians. True, it could. But that hasn’t really been established. If we were following multiple mandalorians from season 1 and on, the ok. We went from focusing on Din and Grogu to more of an ensemble cast which I’m sure some people don’t mind. But the whole draw of the show, for me anyway, is the dynamic between Grogu and Din, and the two of them going on these adventures. I have no issue with there being a larger cast as long as they still get a significant portion of time. But so far they kind of haven’t. Honestly, I just miss it being the two of them.
Now the stuff with Bo. I like her a lot more now and I think she’s really come around. But I am a little salty that the guy who was a staunch advocate of the creed, who risked everything to save a foundling(twice), and who currently has the dark saber, has been completely passed over for someone who just joined, saved a couple foundlings, and saw the mythosaur down in the water. I know it’s not official that Bo is the leader yet. But I’m like damn Din has gone through all this shit, and really walked both paths if not reluctantly, and the armorer was like yeah whatever. I don’t think she’s shady but it just raises questions for me. I don’t know, it would just be nice to see Din taking more of that leadership role. True, he never really has. But he’s always brought people together, and despite his more standoffish nature he’s always made a lot of allies. I guess this whole rant is to say I just kind of miss how the show used to be. It shouldn’t be used as a place for back door pilots, or potential spin offs. And it doesn’t need to tie into the sequels or the rest of the galaxy at large. That was what people enjoyed so much about the first season, and even though I enjoyed the second season, all the cameos kind of started to rub me the wrong way, even though I did enjoy them. This show could be mission of the week, Din and Grogu just vibing, and I would be good with it.
5 notes
·
View notes
Note
What do you think about Ephemer’s bloodline being a part of the story now? I always expected to see a descendant of Ephemer one way or another, but never in that great of a proportion. I got the impression that Ephemer has quite a lot of descendants from Nomura’s interview.
Idk why it surprises me so much? I wonder if its because for a long time, the closest thing to family KH ever focused was Eraqus and Terra, and even then its implied they're not actually related. But now Lauriam has a sister, Eraqus has a grandfather, and now Ephemer's bloodline, I guess I just am like "Oh okay, we're going this direction now, I see". I think newer fans may not be as surprised as older ones, who went years with KH not focusing on family. (Sora's parents don't count, they don't even have designs)
I agree with you that yeah I figured Ephemer would somehow manage to repopulate a town, but not that he himself would be responsible for such a large portion of the population LOL
It makes me wonder like, is ML going to go to the direction where only Ephemer's descendants have the heart for the keyblade? Or they're the only ones given the ceremony to wielding the keyblade? Because if it's the former, it's certainly different from modern KH, where anyone from Sora to Axel can wield the keyblade (and I doubt every wielder in modern KH is related to Ephemer).
It also makes me a little nervous on their approach to Xehanort. I just want to make sure they don't go into shady grey areas about the way he's born, and why he was put on Destiny Islands (which honestly, people more educated than me can probably debate on why it's already shady).
And I wonder if even Brain married a distant descendent of Ephemer, so maybe Eraqus is the descendent of them both Brain and Ephemer? It'll be interesting if we get more details on what YX means when he says "Eraqus is ... descended from the very first masters in the age of fairy tales"
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cozy Wednesday featuring Shade Grown (Barks & Beans Cafe Cozy Mystery) by Heather Day Gilbert #Review / #Giveaway @heatherdgilbert #GreatEscapesBookTour
Shade Grown (Barks & Beans Cafe Cozy Mystery)
by Heather Day Gilbert
About Shade Grown
Shade Grown (Barks & Beans Cafe Cozy Mystery)
Cozy Mystery
8th in Series
Setting - West Virginia
WoodHaven Press (December 11, 2023)
Paperback : 190 pages
ISBN-13 : 979-8987556955
Digital ASIN : B0BPQ8KHZR
BOOK EIGHT in the Award-winning BARKS & BEANS CAFE cozy mystery series!!
Welcome to the Barks & Beans Cafe, a quaint place where folks pet shelter dogs while enjoying a cup of java...and where murder sometimes pays a visit.
During Lewisburg's popular summer home and garden tour, Macy and her brother Bo discover new aspects of their hometown's history. One of the last homes they visit features a lush commemorative shade garden marking where a Civil War soldier's bones were buried. As Macy pauses to admire a bed of blue hostas, she glimpses a shadowy shape lying beneath the dinner-plate leaves. It turns out to be the body of famed movie star Cody Franklin, who'd purchased the garden house as a quiet country retreat.
Back at the cafe, Macy speaks with Cody's distraught sister, who lets slip that she's afraid her brother's killer will target her next. Macy's heart goes out to the bereaved sibling, and she agrees to speak with Cody's local acquaintances in hopes she'll uncover some helpful backstory.
But someone powerful is lurking behind the scenes, and Macy has to zoom in on the killer before everything fades to black.
Join siblings Macy and Bo Hatfield as they sniff out crimes in their hometown...with plenty of dogs along for the ride! The Barks & Beans Cafe cozy mystery series features a small town, an amateur sleuth, and no swearing or graphic scenes.
Dollycas's Thoughts
Macy Hatfield and her brother Bo have taken some time off from their Barks & Beans Cafe to enjoy Lewisburg's annual summer home and garden tour. They arrive at a property now owned by movie star Cody Franklin. His yard features a commemorative shade garden that marks where the bones of a Civil War soldier are buried. While looking at a bed of blue hostas Macy noticed a body beneath the large leaves. The famous new owner of this home and garden is dead and it is not from natural causes.
Mr. Franklin's sister shows up at the cafe and she wants Macy's help to find her brother's killer who she thinks is coming after her next. Macy can't say no and agrees to ask some questions of the involved parties but she feels there is more to the story of Cody Frankin's death. Something shady is going on. She just hopes she can get to the facts before the killer strikes again.
_____
Heather Day Gilbert has created a cast of strong and engaging characters. Bo and Macy have a wonderful brother/sister bond. They are close and always have each other's back. They can work together, do fun things together, and sometimes solve a murder together. They each are in romantic relationships with great people. Summer runs the animal shelter that provides dogs for the Barks portion of the cafe. She and Bo are now engaged. Titan McCoy is a six-foot-five FBI Agent who is usually on a secret assignment but always finds time for Macy, more so when has gotten herself involved in another murder. She has created some lovable animal characters too in Macy’s Great Dane, Coal, Bo’s kitty, Stormy, and Vera’s dog Waffles. Vera lives next to Macy's and the cafe and keeps her eyes on the neighborhood. These core characters are surrounded by a great supporting cast too. All the characters continue to evolve and develop as the series continues. It is truly like visiting old friends every time I open a Barks & Beans Cafe Cozy Mystery.
The author has written a complex mystery too. With a celebrity victim there are some interesting suspects but mix in the small-town drama, some mysterious strangers lurking about, old secrets and lies, twists and turns, and a good deed gone wrong and you have a splendid mystery brewing. Macy has a way of getting people to talk and has Bo and Titan come in at the right time with important assistance. I was totally gobsmacked by the way this story played out. It was so well-plotted that I fell for each point of misdirection right up until the very end.
I really enjoy the way this author tells a story. I escape right into them with such ease and am always entertained. She also knows how to set up a fantastic cliffhanger that will have her readers yearning for the next book in this series to be released. Knight Brew will his stores on November 18, 2024.
Shade Grown is a marvelous addition to this series. Well-developed characters wrapped up in a top-notch mystery add up to a Perfect Escape in my book. I can't wait to return to the Barks & Beans Cafe!
Your Escape Into A Good Book Travel Agent
About Heather Day Gilbert
HEATHER DAY GILBERT, an RWA Daphne du Maurier Award-winning author and 2-time ECPA Christy Award finalist, enjoys writing contemporary mysteries with unpredictable twists, much like the Agatha Christie books she read growing up. Her novels feature small towns, family relationships, and women who aren't afraid to protect those they love. Find out more at heatherdaygilbert.com.
Author Links
Author Website Facebook Page Twitter/X Instagram Goodreads Bookbub
Purchase Link
Amazon
The Rest of the Barks & Beans Cafe Cozy Mystery Series
The Barks & Beans Cafe cozy mystery series in order:
Book 1: No Filter
Book 2: Iced Over
Book 3: Fair Trade
Book 4: Spilled Milk
Book 5: Trouble Brewing
Book 6: Cold Drip
Book 7: Roast Date
Book 8: Shade Grown
Book 9: Knight Brew Coming November 18, 2024
Standalone Novella: House Blend
TOUR PARTICIPANTS - Please visit all the stops.
January 9 – Literary Gold – AUTHOR INTERVIEW
January 9 – #BRVL Book Review Virginia Lee – SPOTLIGHT
January 9 – Novels Alive – REVIEW
January 10 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – REVIEW
January 10 – Baroness Book Trove – SPOTLIGHT
January 10 – Nadaness In Motion – AUTHOR INTERVIEW
January 11 – StoreyBook Reviews – SPOTLIGHT
January 11 – CelticLady Reviews – SPOTLIGHT
January 11 – Ruff Drafts – SPOTLIGHT
January 12 – Cozy Up With Kathy – REVIEW
January 12 – Sapphyria's Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT
January 13 – Mystery, Thrillers & Suspense – SPOTLIGHT
January 13 – Maureen's Musings – SPOTLIGHT
January 13 – MJB Reviewers – SPOTLIGHT
January 14 – The Book Diva's Reads – AUTHOR GUEST POST
January 14 – FUONLYKNEW – SPOTLIGHT
January 15 – Reading Is My SuperPower – AUTHOR GUEST POST
January 15 – Christy's Cozy Corners – REVIEW
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Have you signed up to be a Tour Host?
Click Here to Find Details and Sign Up Today!
Want to Book a Tour?
Click Here
Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. Receiving a complimentary copy in no way reflected my review of this book. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255: “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”
Read the full article
0 notes
Text
let's talk about lily evans and the marauders, aka moony, wormtail, padfoot and prongs. given that i didn't use their actual names, i think you can figure out where this is going. it's also long as hell, so. canon vs fanon, marauder edition, except snek is sleep deprived.
now, before we begin, i don't dislike the marauders. or lily, tbh. if I'm being perfectly, genuinely honest, i still go back and forth sometimes but they've been growing on me for a while now. the canon versions, at least. fanon does them real dirty, and that's part of why i'm writing this, because i'm genuinely tired of it. it's an injustice.
you can at least make excuses for james and lily, who were so undeveloped that jkr practically dropped a fill-in-the-blank sheet of character information in our laps, but sirius, remus and peter were around long enough for y'all to get real acquainted with them.
in canon, sirius black is an unhinged mf. genuinely. this isn't to say he's a bad guy, in fact, we see that he's still capable of doing good things, still capable of love, still capable of all the things that prove he's actually not bad at heart, just,,, severely traumatised and very steeped in negativity from his time with the dementors. what i'm saying is that this man is absolutely, no questions asked, no holds barred demented, and how could he not be? the guy sat wrongfully imprisoned in azkaban for twelve years, a good portion of which he spent as a dog in order to protect himself from the dementors. he certainly wasn't completely insane, but you cannot tell me that he was all there. he got out of azkaban fuelled almost solely by the intent to get revenge on pettigrew, tried to commit murder in front of three witnesses who were also children—one of whom was his godson—ate rats and was also malnourished, which i'm certain did not help the situation any. this man is off his goddamn rocker, and you know what? you love to see it. good for him.
oh, but, snek, that's what he's like as an adult. what about when they were at school? before azkaban? my guy, the reaction he has to grimmauld place is not the reaction of someone without trauma. i don't believe that walburga and orion were the type to physically abuse their children, but whatever happened in that house helped to fuck him up enough that he skipped the joke of part of practical joke, and pranked snape by telling him how to meet a werewolf that he knew would be fully transformed and dangerous to humans. more than that, the werewolf was remus, whom he's friends with, and who—best case scenario—would be facing a trial if james hadn't stepped in. you can say that maybe he didn't think about or understand the gravitas of his actions, but at the end of it, that's not how properly sane people react to people they dislike, and that's not how they treat their friends. if anything, it reads like he was in the middle of a breakdown and absolutely losing his shit and he wasn't thinking at all.
my guy went through some serious shit, and was in no way completely mentally stable. we can see pretty clearly that he's got a serious dark side to him that probably would have gone unbridled had he not disagreed with his family, and yet, fanon took one look at him and went, "teehee, uwu bad boi go vroom."
fanon said padfoot is a pretty boy with nice hair who is tastefully traumatised from his horribly abusive household. sirius rides his motorcycle and plays jokes and flirts with anything that moves, but he can do no real wrong and always comes back to his soft, bookish, chocolate-loving boyfriend remus, who will laugh about his lycanthropy and quietly disapprove but secretly laugh at his friends' antics while hiding his smile in his cardigan.
respectfully, what in the absolute fuck.
i'd put that meme in here if i could, the one that's like, "well done, you've broken _______ down to its bare essentials," but no. i can't bc it doesn't even apply. this isn't a meme, it's theseus' fucking ship.
fanon broke it down, and replaced the pieces one by one until we got to this point, where we need to sit down and ask ourselves, "is this even the same character?"
the answer is no, by the way. it isn't. when people talk about woobifying characters—you know, taking away every flaw they have, romanticising everything they do and making them only capable of doing good, wonderful, lovely things?—this is what we mean.
and it'd be one thing if it was just the one character, but, no. fanon went all in and made them all squeaky clean and boring, especially peter, who draws the shortest of the straws.
remus got fucked, too. not just because fanon insists on sticking him into a relationship with sirius. which, we'll tackle wolfstar in a bit, but that's not even the worst of it. here, we have yet another example of blatant, rampant woobifying. again, is he a bad person? no. we know he's a good guy, we know he's generally kind and well-mannered, we know that he wants to fo the right thing but hey, fun fact. did you know that you can be nice and a coward? did you know that you can be benevolent and good and kindly and have the greatest of intentions and still be shady as fuck? no? ask dumbledore. the man played people like chess pieces when he needed to, and he was a twinkly grandpa. these are things that can coexist.
teenage remus is a coward who, understandably, does not stand up to his friends, likely for fear of being ostracised, and doesn't uphold his prefect duties as he should and takes part in their bullying of snape as a result. he lets them romp with him in werewolf form while they are in their animagus forms and then, he lets them continue to do so even after they have multiple close calls, which, again, had anything happened, would have resulted in a trial in the best case scenario.
grownup remus is still a coward, he tells no one that sirius can move about the school in his animagus form despite wholeheartedly believing that he's a mass murderer, he tries to run out on his wife and unborn kid. he isn't deliberately making attempts to harm anyone, but he's content to sit back and let things happen to him and around him so he doesn't rock the boat, although he is capable of action, which we see when he is more than willing to help sirius merk pettigrew in the shack. he can be careless, he runs out to the shack knowing he hasn't taken his wolfsbane and ends up transforming in front of the students he, as a teacher, is meant to be protecting. of course, this doesn't negate his good qualities, it just bears repeating that his flaws do exist, and they're pretty serious.
fanon moony is always pleasant and kind and soft-spoken and bookish, and he always has to have his chocolate. he knows when to tell off his friends, and he'll do it, even if he's secretly amused by everything they do and laughs about it with his best friend, lily evans, who coincidentally spends all her time with them so he and sirius can go on double dates with james and lily and no one has to remember peter exists.
why. theseus' ship 2.0. does the actual character still exist or is this something entirely different thing bearing the same name?
as for peter, who needs peter pettigrew, the actual, legitimate, fourth marauder when you have lily evans? canon pettigrew is opportunistic as fuck. he's latching himself to the biggest bad on the block and he's going all in. for teenage peter, that was james and sirius, and for adult peter, that's voldemort. canon peter is good enough at transfiguration to master the animagus transformation, just like his friends, and he's good enough at potions to brew the potion that gives voldemort a body. and honestly, you can't say he wasn't brave. he could've run off somewhere and died, or changed his identity or something after he faked his death and framed sirius, but, no. he goes and resurrects voldemort. that's fucked up, yeah, but it happened and honestly, i respect that it. he stuck to his guns.
fanon wormtail is lucky if he exists beyond being a spineless sycophant for james and sirius, or an evil conniving little rat who's looking to toss his entire friend group to the wolves at eleven.
of course, this isn't meant to negate his bad qualities, he still murdered people and framed sirius and sold out the potters to die, but his good characteristics do exist, and james, sirius and remus genuinely were his friends.
and now, we get to lily and james.
we have hardly any information on either of them. they're a pair of cardboard cutouts that we can paint and stick flyers to and colour outside the lines however we want. we can do whatever the fuck, as long lily is brave and smart and somewhat kind and james is brave and willing to die for his family. we were essentially handed a pair of ocs.
and yet.
what little bits of canon we have are thrown out of the window regardless.
james is privileged and rich, and he throws hexes for fun. he's willing to hex lily when she disagrees with him, and then, he goes behind her back to continue hexing snape after she believes that he's stopped doing so. and that's all we know about him until he dies for his family at twenty-one years old. once again, say it with me: this does not negate his good qualities. he definitely had them, he took sirius in when sirius ran away from home, he became an animagus to keep remus company as a wolf, and he saved snape in the shack, thereby saving remus and sirius by extension. him having flaws does not make him a bad person.
fanon prongs is a feminist. he fights for equal rights for women everywhere, and he constantly treats his girlfriend, lily, like an absolute queen. he's the hottest boy in school and everyone claps when he walks through the halls. mcgonagall and dumbledore are always patting him on the back and making jokes with him. he has a built-in dark detector that helps him sense when someone is a evil and needs to he punished.
give me a break. the dude's cool and all, but was the gary stu treatment necessary?
...oh, he needed to match fanon lily? right, right.
canon lily is a contradiction unto herself. she's supposedly a great friend, but since we see her at a point where they were already drifting apart, we see her putting little effort into keeping their friendship afloat. she victim blames based on rumours, she doesn't seem to care over much about what snape has to say about the people who have been tormenting him since day one. and she's justified, of course, she doesn't have to stick around. canon lily is a bit of hypocrite, she says that snape calls everyone of her birth mudblood, but then that begs the question why she still hangs around with him if that's the case. he calls her mudblood, she retaliates by calling him snivellus, and finishes up with a dig about his underwear, which, sure, it's kicking a man with a rusty spoon and pouring salt in the wound, but she's, again, justified. i get where she was coming from. and then, of course, she dies for her kid after marrying the guy who relentlessly bullied her quote-unquote best friend for their entire school careers. but, like i said, canon lily is, in many ways, a contradiction.
lily is basically a plot device. she pushes everyone's narrative but her own, and does little else.
of course, this trend would continue in fanon. fanon lily exists to be the perfect girl who gets really angry over the slightest injustice, and of course, she gets to be one half of one of the oldest enemies-to-lovers "it was just sexual tension" cliche pairings in the book. she's just,,, a mary sue. in so many fics, so many headcanons, she's just pettigrew's stand-in, a girl to form a gang with marlene, mary and dorcas—who happen to be more undeveloped ocs who also get the woobify mary sue treatment—to parallel the marauders. there is nothing compelling about her character when she's presented as a saint, and even less when she's supposedly the other moral compass for the marauders that doesn't actually work because she thinks that james is cute.
and this brings me to the next topic. jily. what, why, how. this was supposed to be a healthy, happy relationship that would have lasted in the long run? absolutely not. even for its time, i can't say that i see it lasting.
first of all, jkr presents james' crush on lily as just that: a crush. a mildly obsessive one, but a crush nonetheless, which she tries to liken to the pulling of pigtails. and then, we see that james' way of getting her to go out with him consists of blackmail, and when that doesn't work, he resorts to threatening her. this could have been set aside if he had actually, genuinely changed when they started spending more time together, but as we're told by sirius and remus, he didn't. he just got better at hiding what he was up to. and it has to be that he hid it, because if she knew, this further damages the character that she's set up to have and paints her out to be either unable to stand up to him or an enabler.
regardless, they get married. and while i have trouble believing that it was out of genuine love, there are scenarios that could make some semblance of sense. it's wartime, after all, and maybe lily is worried about her stability in the wizarding world, so why not marry into an established family whose son is already showing interest? or perhaps, she falls into the trap of every bad boy cliche ever, and she thinks to herself, well, i got him to be better then, maybe i can get him to do even better in the future. or maybe, she doesn't get into a relationship with him immediately and sees him on and off, until eventually, she accidentally gets pregnant and they scramble to have a shotgun wedding so as not to leave lily alone at nineteen with a baby. or maybe they marry each other because they're there and sure, neither of then is ready and they don't know what love even is but what else is there to do when there's a dark lord about? anyways, the point is, they get married.
and then what? if we count pottermore into canon, he goes on to further damage her relationship with petunia and vernon, to the point where she ends up crying. if we don't, she fades into the background enough that nobody has anything to say about her. she's harry's mum, she's james' wife, lily potter, she was kind and smart and brave and that's it. her agency is gone, anything else we have of her personality is gone.
jily just,,, wasn't built to last. and, yeah, this,,, this is a hill i'll die on.
same with wolfstar, honestly. there are so many reasons why it wouldn't work, but fanon has made it so fucking prevalent that it's literally everywhere no matter where you look.
first of all, i've said it before and i'll say it again. sirius is more likely to get with james that he is to ever end up in a relationship with remus. their chemistry is just,,, underdeveloped. net zero for a relationship.
secondly, sirius instigated the werewolf prank, and lupin would have paid the price for it. this could have been overlooked, but he doesn't seem the slightest bit guilty about any of it when it's brought up in poa. he could have been responsible for lupin losing the security of his place at hogwarts in the best case scenario, and in the worst case, his life. and he seems to look forward to full moons, even though they clearly aren't pleasant for remus, which,,, yeah, you're going to have fun, but like, maybe be concerned about the fact that your friend undergoes excruciating pain and it isn't a pleasant time for him? read the room, my g.
thirdly, they don't trust each other as much as fanon seems to think they do. they were both willing to believe each other the traitor before ever suspecting pettigrew. sirius thought remus gave away the potters, hell, he thought remus was a spy for voldemort, and remus was convinced that sirius was a mass murderer. neither of them needed to be convinced.
fourthly, maybe i'm reading too much into it, but like. sirius had money. remus had no money, since, yk, he was a werewolf and struggling for cash and still, sirius,,, did not leave him any money. i feel like if you had money to spare, you would give to your friend who is literally poor. but, again, maybe i'm reading too much into it and this isn't as valid a point as i think it is.
and ehh, the fifth reason is that it's,,, actually very much not the representation for the ltgbt community that fanon says it is but y'all aren't ready for that conversation.
anyways, just,,, even when you set the couple shit aside, the power dynamics between everyone here is fucked. like, james and sirius are clearly at the top of food chain calling the shots and egging each other on. then there's lily, who isn't even a marauder, but is always ever-so-slightly above remus but still not on their level, because, well. neither of them actually listen to her. remus is the novelty friend, the friend who's,,, alright, i guess, but you keep them around specifically because they're funny or they can dance or they have something that you can either show off to other people or keep as your little inside joke, your little secret, yk? and peter is just sort of there. like, yeah, he can do what we can but does that make him as good as we are? no. does he have a funny little something about him that we can exploit? nah. therefore he sits at the bottom. and like, yeah, james and sirius are on the same level, but james is yanking sirius' chain, not the other way around. anyways, like i said. power dynamic's fucked and it bothers me that we were given all of this, and fanon decided to take it all and throw it away so they could give us flamboyant!badboi!sirius black x softboi!motherhen!remus lupin going on double dates with feminist!trustfundbaby!james potter and saint!lily evans while ignoring peter pettiwho?
theseus' fucking ship, indeed.
anyways, this needed to be said. it might not make as much sense as i want it to, considering it's 4:12 in the morning as i'm posting this, after taking a break from writing to do some research and coming across way too much content about fanon marauders, but it's here and it still makes enough sense that you can read it and understand what i mean. and like, at the end of the day, you can go ahead and headcanon whatever you please, you can write fic and make art and do whatever you like, just,,, remember that they're exactly that. headcanons. stop presenting fanon as canon. please. i'm literally begging. we actually have evidence against it. just,,, acknowledge that they're headcanons and stop putting them forward as though they're able to fit into canon. please.
#harry potter#marauder fanon#canon vs fanon#lily evans#james potter#sirius black#remus lupin#peter pettigrew#the marauders#severus snape is mentioned a few times#but this isn't about him#i'm just#so sick of fanon#i need to like refilter my tags or smth bc istg i see more fanon marauder posts than i do anything else#anyways this is my take#and yeah it is 4:11 in the morning and i'm tired#i can't remember when i started this but yeah#point is i am so done#anti jily#anti wolfstar
625 notes
·
View notes
Note
I love your “little moments” series… I have a weak spot for dad!Harry💕 and I love the relationship between the family’s members 🤗 and I really hope u will continue to update it! And for this series I would like to request Harry doing the 73 questions interview for Vogue and his kids and wife make an appearance (u can choose if the kids are toddlers or teens) and they even answer some questions OR an Howard Stern interview where Harry is asked about his family,maybe the host makes like not so nice-low key shady comments on his wife and on Harry’s daughter coming out story. Ok I’ m done, so sorry ik it’s so long 😅 it’s just I love your series sooo muchhh 🥰🥰 ok I’m done love u have a good day 😘
i’d love to answer this one!! thank you so much for loving my little series💕this one’s for you and for the other request i got which i’m combing with this: “Harry is doing a interview on facetime when his kid crashes the interview.” so pls enjoy and yeah enjoy;
oli - 6, felix - 4, belle - 1
The day had finally arrived for Harry Styles to complete the 73 Questions with Vogue.
It had come to be the promo for ‘Don’t Worry Darling’ and his schedule was booked with interview after interview after interview, and it wasn’t ideal for this to all be happening months whilst also having to look after three meddling toddlers, one of whom had only recently turned 1 years old.
The house was chaos. Fun, but chaos. And it was also the setting of this interview.
“Alright you lot, this way.” You shoved your children along to your living room, giving Harry the space he needed with Joe Sabia - the interviewer.
“Thank you love, see you later.” He blew a kiss to you and returned his focus to Joe. This interview was the first of many and it was also a major marketing ploy. These types of interviews were so highly recommended for Harry to be involved in and Jeff had thought it was about time for him to do one.
Joe had arrived around 15 minutes ago, just to
run over the script and remind Harry of the pre-determined questions - which reminded him of the answers that you’d run through with him the night before. Now the cameras were set up, the mic people were all at stand-by and Joe was ready it was time to begin. The children had been so fascinated by all these new people, after not seeing anyone for months due to the coronavirus pandemic, which is why it took a lot of trouble to get them to shuffle away from their beloved dad.
A fake door knock arose.
“Harry Styles hello!”
“Hi!” Harry waved at the camera.
“I’m here to do the Vogue 73 Questions, shall we get to it?”
“Of course! Come in!” Harry welcomed Joe into the house and shut the door behind him, not trusting his little ones to not escape if they were running wild.
“Beautiful house! Is it your only one?”
“No, but it’s my only one in London.” Harry made a point of not exploiting how many houses he did have and where they were. In fact, you still didn’t know about the Island that he was currently investing in just for you. You were a huge conservation activist and so Harry thought you could spend your free time helping the fragile ecosystem on this island.
“Did you design it yourself?”
“Me and my wife built the plans, but we go the experts to finish it all off.”
“What’s your favourite room?”
“Um, probably the living room.”
“Why?”
“So many of my favourite memories have happened in there.”
“Could you give us some?”
Harry could give loads, but they were far too precious for him to just give away. The living room wasn’t even a massive room, it was quite quaint with a couple of sofas, a logwood fire and then rugs and paintings on the walls. It was a home within a home. It was where Felix had taken his first steps. It was where Oli had spoken his first words. It was where Belle had fallen over for the first time and given herself nasty carpet burn. It was where presents were opened at Christmas. It was where you and Harry had made love next to the fire. It was where Felix and Oli had had their first tiny argument. It was where you spent family nights. If your house was a map then that room marked X the spot.
It was treasure. Priceless.
“My favourite would probably be when my wife, Y/N, spilt red wine all over the new white carpet and then proceeded to throw white wine over the stain because she’d read somewhere that it helps to get rid of it.” Harry chuckled at the memory.
“Did it?”
“No, God no. The carpet’s grey now.”
Joe laughed, as did Harry.
“I have to say Harry, you’re looking very fashionable today who are you wearing?”
“Gucci.” He blushed, because he knew that everyone would’e known that without question. He was wearing a lilac silk shirt with his name embroidered on it - but really it was to symbolise your last name not his - with a white wife-beater shirt and white shorts. He looked rich.
“Shouldn’t have asked really? Is your wife as much a Gucci avid fan?”
“She hates anything expensive. I think she still wears the same jeans she was wearing at university!” He knew you’d hit him later for saying that.
“So she’s a hoarder?”
“God yeah. She keeps everything and anything.” Harry laughed in admiration.
“Has she always been?”
“Always. When we went on our first date, her bag was so full that she couldn’t find her purse and she was so embarrassed because she thought I would think she was taking advantage of who I was. Anyways I did end up paying that night, but she had actually, I don’t know how, sent me money for her portion of the bill. From that moment I knew it was going to be her.”
“Do you write songs about her?
“Every day.” He smiled at the thought of the one he’d written just this morning.
“Which one is your favourite about her?”
“I don’t know about favourite, but the one I hold closest to my heart is probably ‘Fine Line’.” Harry stopped there, not wanting to share the intimate details of why and Joe respected that.
“Do your children have a favourite song of yours?”
“They go crazy for Kiwi and Golden. Belle loves Treat People and Oli knows the dance to that one actually.”
“Did you choreograph the dance for TPWK?”
“Partially, but I had help from my friend Paul and Y/N helped too actually.”
Harry and Joe had now made it through the house, weaving in and out of rooms, until they had made it to the Garden. Unfortunately, you’d forgotten to shut the bifold doors to the living room and so as soon as Harry came into focus for your children they immediately ran for him. Oli and Felix could run quite well, but Belle was a lot slower. She was only learning how to walk and so she fell a lot, unless she was being supported by you or Harry. Oli reached his dad first and then Felix, to which Harry knelt down to embrace them in ‘super-dad’ hugs as he liked to call them.
“And who do we have here?” Joe asked.
“Trouble.” Harry replied in jest, but whispered something into his boys ears before backing away.
“Hello i’m Oli.” Oli waved proudly to the camera.
“Hi i’m Fix.” Feliz shied into his dads neck, embarrassed of himself. Harry kissed the back of his head and kept a hold oh him around his back for comfort.
“Fix?” Joe asked at the peculiar name.
“It’s Felix, but he can’t pronounce his own name for some reason so we just call him Fix now. Or Flix. Don’t we buddy?”
“Oh my! I’m so sorry about this!” You ran out in panic, knowing your one job was to keep the kids entertained and away from their dad. At least that was the original plan, but both Harry and Joe like this idea so much more. You were blushing red in embarrassment, picking up a fallen over Belle on your way over to everyone else. “So sorry.”
Belle became restless in your arms, reaching forward for her dad. She whined when she couldn’t quite reach and Harry immediately stood up to take his winging daughter from your arms. As he did, he leant into you and whispered in your ear whilst leaving it a warm kiss behind.
“You’re okay love. Don’t be sorry.”
“Hello Y/N!” Joe spoke.
“Hiya! How are you?”
“I’m great, and you?”
“Peachy.” You laughed, leaning down to collect Felix who was making grabby hands at you. Oli was quite happy standing next to both his parents, one of Harrys hands running through his tiny locks of hair.
“So now we have the family together, how do you feel to all be together?”
You looked to Harry smiled to find him smiling back already at you, knowing you both had a very similar answer. “It feels right. It feels like home.” You answered and Harry nodded in agreement, giving Belle a gentle rock in his arms.
“Are you okay with showing your children’s faces publicly?”
“No we’re not.”
“Looks like we have a hell of a lot of editing to do back at HQ.” Joe laughed, but completely understood the reasoning behind yours two decision. If needed, you could re-film scenes of this interview so that it didn’t include your children. Joe had done his best to keep the camera on you and Harry and luckily the children kept their faces buried in their parents necks anyways. “Is that going to be forever?”
“When they are old enough to decide whether they want to be in the spotlight then we’ll see.” Harry smiled, holding onto Belle tighter because all he wanted to do was keep her protected, and his, forever.
“You two seem like very good parents.” Joe spoke sincerely, and it made you swallow down a sob because it was always really lovely to hear such compliments - knowing you’d struggled with postnatal depression.
“Thank you Joe.” Harry nodded respectfully.
“Okay let’s carry on?”
The interview carried on until Harry had answered so many questions. He redid bits, due the children being too involved and he re-filmed answers to questions he found difficult to answer the first time around. He had such a great experience and was happy with the way that the day turned out.
#ask finelinevogue#ask harry styles#anon response#kissmyaxe140#harry styles x reader#harry styles vogue#harry styles 73 questions vogue#harry styles interview#little moments belle#little moment felix#little moments oliver#little moments masterlist#little moments finelinevogue#little moments#finelinevogue blurbs#finelinevogue harry styles#finelinevogue harry masterlist#harry styles masterlist#finelinevogue masterlist#harry styles fluff#harry styles children blurb#harry styles interview concept
406 notes
·
View notes
Text
Gabriel Agreste: Interesting Villain, Horrible Character (400 Follower Special)
I'm honestly surprised more people didn't want me to talk about Gabriel, especially with how often I rag on how horrible of a person he is. But, three character analysis posts later, and we're going to talk about why the main villain of Miraculous Ladybug is a real letdown.
Gabriel Needs to give the Whining a Rest
The interesting thing is one of the few things I actually liked in Season 3 was Hawkmoth. His plans actually made sense (for the most part), and by playing the long game, he managed to turn Chloe against Ladybug and deprived her of several key allies. Granted, Season 4 immediately undid the latter, but I was still impressed by his strategy.
Generally, one of the better aspects of Gabriel as a character was just how over the top he was as Hawkmoth. Keith Silverstein is clearly giving it his all with his performance, and he is just so enjoyable to watch as a cartoonish supervillain.
And therein lies the first major problem with Gabriel as a character. While he is fun to watch as a simple supervillain, the show tries to give him more depth and unintentionally makes him worse.
In Season 2, when it was revealed that Gabriel was Hawkmoth, many fans speculated on what he needed the Miraculous for, until the Queen Bee Trilogy showed it was to save his possibly dead wife, Emilie. The idea of that is so the show can give more depth to its main villain, and I think it's an interesting idea in concept. After all, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.
The problem is just how radically different Gabriel is normally compared to how he is as Hawkmoth. He always goes on about how he's “doing this for Emilie”, but it's hard to really sympathize with him when you consider he constantly gives evil monologues and evil laughs, really getting into the supervillain role. And let's not forget all of the “I'm going to wear Ladybug's skin as a suit” faces he loves to make.
Clearly this man is the picture of mental stability.
Gabriel's motivation for being Hawkmoth when compared to what he actually does as Hawkmoth is shady enough, but the thing is that the writers clearly want the audience to at least feel a little bad for him. They want to make the audience sympathize with him despite the way he acts with or without the mask. Without Miraculous Ladybug, he is routinely putting innocent lives in danger and never once shows regret for his actions. All he talks about is how “he's doing this for Emilie”, or that “he'll get their Miraculous soon”. There's no real reason to feel bad for him other than “because the script says so”.
Let's compare Gabriel to Malcolm Merlyn from Arrow. His big plan in the first season of the show is to create a machine that will cause an earthquake to destroy a crime-infested portion of Starling City, claiming to be trying to help everyone, but it's clear he is only doing it out of revenge for his wife getting killed by a criminal from that part of the city. In addition, throughout that season and future seasons, he always makes sure his plans lead to him benefiting in some way, showing he isn't just some noble man trying to achieve his goals with a less than noble method.
If we got some moments that showed that what Gabriel was doing was selfish, it would make him a more complex villain. But we don't get anything like that. What do we get instead? Well...
I Could Really Care Less About Emilie Agreste
We have known Gabriel's motivation has been to save his wife for a little over two years at this point, but at the same time, it's hard to believe that motivation because of how underdeveloped Emilie is as a character.
There have been a total of two lines in the entirety of the show that explain what happened to Emilie, and they're both vague as hell. One of them was from “Feast” that implied Emilie used the broken Peacock Miraculous.
Adrien: My mom used to have dizzy spells… just like Nathalie.
And the other that outright tells the audience what's happening to her in a clip show that most people will skip.
Nathalie: As I've watched Emilie falling deeper into an endless sleep, my sadness for her has deepened, too
That is literally all we get for an explanation, and nothing else. We have no idea of what she's like as a person or what her relationship with her family was like other than Gabriel and Adrien saying they miss her. Other than the way the narrative says she's important to Gabriel and Adrien, we don't really have a reason to care about her as a character. There have also been some lines that imply she went along with Gabriel's questionable parenting techniques, like how he was apparently only homeschooled as a kid (Origins) and never had a birthday party growing up (The Bubbler), so how do we even know if she's a good person? In fact, why not set up this question as a mystery to make the audience wonder if Gabriel has another reason to bring Emilie back?
It ultimately turns Emilie into a plot device and not a character that Gabriel and Adrien only bring up to make the audience feel bad for them, and meant to justify Gabriel's actions by saying that he's “doing this for his family”.
But hey, if he's doing this all for his family, surely Gabriel's redeeming traits come from his relationship with Adrien, right? Right?
As a Parent, Gabriel is Far From the Best
I've talked about this briefly before, but parenting in Miraculous Ladybug is written in such a black and white way, even by the standards of this show. Parents are portrayed in one of two ways. They're either amazing people who love and support their children unconditionally, or they're awful people who treat their own children like trash. And much like a lot of things in this show, there are times where the latter is treated like the former.
There are so many times where the narrative insists on making you see Gabriel as a troubled, but wellmeaning person who tries his best to be a good parent to Adrien, but it is far from the truth.
I'm not going to beat around the bush. Gabriel is a terrible parent. Like, he is awful at being a parent in so many ways, even before you find out he's Hawkmoth. In his first appearance, “The Bubbler”, he delegates getting Adrien a birthday present to Nathalie, his assistant. He literally can't be bothered to take time out of his schedule to get his own son a present for his birthday. And as the show goes on, he becomes more controlling and forbids Adrien from going out with his friends in other episodes (Captain Hardrock, Silencer). While this could be used to show Gabriel getting worse, it's never acknowledged in-universe, with Adrien continually defending his father essentially keeping him on house arrest.
“But IOTA!” You might say. “Gabriel has made efforts to bond with his son in some episodes.” While that might be true, most of those come right after his Akumas have almost gotten Adrien killed. He only hugged Adrien and made an attempt to learn more about him after Simon Says invaded their home, he only decided to watch that movie Emilie was in with Adrien after Gorizilla nearly dropped him off a building, and he only hugged Adrien again in public after he was turned into a gold statue by Style Queen.
In fact, let's talk about how Gabriel acts in the Queen Bee Trilogy. He actually decides to quit being Hawkmoth, but it's not because he realizes all the damage he's caused. Instead, he gave up because his “magnum opus”, a stronger than usual Akuma that only got the advantage on Ladybug ironically because of dumb luck, failed. Sure, he says he can't keep putting his son in danger, but he rarely ever acknowledges that he does so in the first place. When Riposte wanted to fight Adrien, Hawkmoth did nothing to stop her other than giving her a stern warning earlier on and nothing else. Where was this attitude earlier?
Hell, even then, he immediately goes back to being Hawkmoth as soon as he sees an opportunity, not even a day after his “mAgNuM oPuS” blew up in his face (because I guess Scarletmoth was just Plan B). If he made such a big deal about caring for his son, why didn't he try harder to spend time with him? Has he ever had doubts about what he's doing before? If Chloe didn't show up as Queen Bee, was he going to follow through on his promise and try to be a better father to Adrien instead of trying to get Ladybug and Cat Noir's Miraculous?
And yeah, the whole irony is that Gabriel is doing this for his family when he is unknowingly fighting his own son, which could lead to some interesting drama if done right. The idea of how Gabriel would react to his son being Cat Noir could really lead to some internal struggles for him to go through. But then we got “Cat Blanc”, which shows just how terrible of a character Gabriel is.
In an alternate timeline where he found out his son was Cat Noir, what does Gabriel do? Does he try to steal Adrien's Miraculous while he's sleeping? Does he reconsider his actions or realize he was endangering Adrien's life?
NOPE! He just decides to akumatize him all while emotionally tormenting him, before causing the end of the world.
This is honestly one of the most appalling things I've ever seen in any TV show, because it's basically an abusive father ordering his son to listen to him all while referencing his (kind of) dead mother to back up his point. And rather than use this to show how despicable Gabriel is, the episode decides to blame Marinette for this happening. Yes, according to the show, her present to Adrien caused several events to happen which caused Cat Blanc, but this logic makes no sense. It's like blaming the JFK assassination on the man who sold a gun to Lee Harvey Oswald, instead of, you know, Lee Harvey Oswald.
Not only was this episode yet another excuse to blame Marinette for something that wasn't her fault, it leads into the biggest problem I have with Gabriel as a character.
Sympathize with Gabriel? Surely, You Jest
After everything I've gone over regarding Gabriel as a character, after all the awful things I've talked about, are you really surprised that I don't feel bad for him at all?
Gabriel is just an awful character and a despicable human being, but the show just keeps wanting me to feel bad for him. It's just so hard to when you consider everything he's done has made him anything but sympathetic. I'm just saying, it's kind of hard to feel bad for someone who tries to start World War III with the only justification being “i'M dOiNg It FoR mY fAmIlY”, especially when he treats his family like crap.
The writers go out of their way to show how horrible Gabriel is as Hawkmoth/Shadowmoth, but they think because they throw in a few moments where he looks conflicted, we'll immediately feel bad for him. What makes so many people interested in seeing Chloe become a better person is that they can tell she's the victim of a troubled upbringing, and know that because she's only a teenager, she still has room to grow as a person, represented by having more honest moments of vulnerability. Gabriel is a grown man who once caused the apocalypse because of how terrible of a parent he is, and has even fewer sympathetic moments than Chloe does. Which one of these two is supposedly irredeemable? The answer may surprise you.
But the frustrating thing is that this kind of villain could have worked. Instead of making him this mustache-twirling psychopath, show how much Gabriel regrets what he has to do, but keeps pushing onward despite all the lives he's risking if it means that he can save his wife. Instead of making Gabriel like Lex Luthor, make him like Mr. Freeze, who is basic a better written version of him.
youtube
But as it stands, there's a good reason why Gabriel gets little to no respect as a character in the Miraculous Ladybug fandom, as a villain, or as a father.
#immaturity of thomas astruc#iota#miraculous ladybug#miraculous ladybug salt#gabriel agreste#hawkmoth#hawk moth#shadowmoth#shadow moth#emilie agreste#adrien agreste#cat noir#chat noir#cat blanc#chat blanc#nathalie sancoeur#mayura#marinette dupain cheng#ladybug
306 notes
·
View notes
Text
Solomon Headcanons
I didn’t like my old headcanons for him and I think I have a slightly better feel for him so I’m posting these bad boys. Maybe at this rate I’ll just post Solomon HCs every month
Also this turned into more of a “I’m going to talk about Solomon in depth and maybe throw in one headcanon about kissing him” and is no longer “lol what kind of dates do you go on? <3″ so uh. do with that what you will. It’s also SUPER LONG (or feels that way) so make sure you have a hot second to read them
you can find my for real headcanons for him here but I don’t necessarily stand by them anymore? They’re just there for fun now lol
Solomon’s Relationship With Relationships
Solomon has been alive for...a long time, and with that naturally comes a lot of experiences, negative and positive. It’s also natural that it would also have him break out of traditional structures regarding...everything, but especially things regarding relationships and specific other people.
(Not to get sociological or philosophical about society or whatever, but the way we view everything is accented heavily by the end. With exceptions, and this certainly varies from culture to culture, but as a general idea, we view things expecting them to take place over the span of 70-100 years. Certain positions in politics or business or something try to look at things generationally, but how capable of that are we and how far ahead can we truly see?)
(What I mean to say is that immortality naturally shifts the entire context in which you would view things that were expected to be “lifelong.” What once existed to enrich a life is now a tether to a system that doesn’t necessarily suit his existence.)
Psychologically, however.....I don’t think Solomon has tried to (or even can) rewire himself entirely to the point where he doesn’t feel love. He’s already got a fondness for Simeon and Luke (always crying about him calling them “dear friends” in the circus event i don’t know if he says anything in the lessons because i’m only on like 21 LOL) so he’s clearly capable of fondness and affection.
Not that those should equate exactly to romantic feelings (because they shouldn’t), but there’s undeniable similarities between platonic and romantic affection and, for the purposes of speculating about an immortal’s capability to still feel both, I think they can be equated in this regard.
There are a lot of assumptions I’m making about him to make this post, namely the following: that there is still reconciling to be done internally between his immortality and humanity, that Solomon’s composed and confident nature is a bit of a front (only a bit - I’ll explain more later), and, related to these two, that he even cares about humanity and that he still wants to preserve his humanity.
While this might be my perspective as a regular human, I really don’t believe that the desire to be human and fully encompass what that means has left. If anything, I think his intrinsic desire for knowledge and power stems from it, and he’s just suppressed the “mushier” emotional parts of that as a sort of....defense mechanism, if you will.
SO the tl;dr of this is that you know how alloromantic people just like feel in love and they get their romantic crushes and it’s natural and they can’t control it? Solomon gets that! He just isn’t the type to swoon over someone or really make it known.
He also as a person is big on being manipulative shady and in control, so if he were to just be super obvious about having a crush on someone and not being able to do anything about it, that would sort of tarnish his whole image.
So yeah, I think Solomon just has his emotions on a tight leash when they probe to be out of control. Clearly, he doesn’t have every part of him under this sort of watchful eye (whether that’s because he still wants to feel genuine happiness or he knows if he came across as emotionless and calculated people would trust him even less, I haven’t decided), but those that cause trouble stay behind locked doors.
Additionally, I don’t think Solomon is opposed to falling in love. I’d bet he’s had lots of different partners over the years and remembers them fondly (you know, assuming they ended well)
I also think his immortal status makes dating different? I feel like doesn’t really date to find a life partner because. well. (gestures).
That’s not to say that he doesn’t date casually sometimes or something. In the terms of a serious romantic partnership, though, it’s rare that it happens because he knows that it’ll die with them (and stay within him for probably forever, even if/when there comes a day he can no longer remember their name or their face).
Another assumption I’m making that I forgot to mention: I think it’s rare that Solomon’s serious, long-term partners know the true extent of the magic he dabbles in. Maybe he lets them know it’s real magic, or he pretends it’s all show magic and parlor tricks. Sometimes he pretends his pact marks are tattoos, sometimes he tells the truth. If ever these confessions are laughed off, he laughs them off too and creates a cover story.
He doesn’t intend to lie, but it’s very difficult to meet someone and explain........all of THAT. On which date to you mention that you can control 72 demons? Do you send a card explaining how you’ve been alive since Biblical times and you’re not even sure if you birthday is your real birthday anymore, let alone how old you are? And should that card be store bought or homemade?
So while it’s rare for Solomon to have a serious romantic partnership, it’s even more rare for him to be entirely understood or accepted for EVERYTHING that he is because he can’t get into it. Arguably, that hasn’t happened since his “death” in his original timeline.
A crush for Solomon isn’t a hopeless affair, either. Should you choose someone else, he’ll allow himself the disappointment and move on.
With Solomon, romantic love sparks naturally, but genuine true love isn’t some all-powerful, unstoppable force. He falls more in line with the people who believe it’s a choice and a decision, somewhere between “it’s purely a biological impulse we just gave a fancy name” and “it’s the magic that makes life more enjoyable”
With MC
In the case of MC, however, I think he might initially see it as bothersome or a hinderance to whatever his plan is with being down there for the exchange program. Maybe he convinces himself he’s just naturally attracted to you because you’re human like him. Once he comes to terms with his feelings and gets to know MC a bit more, he might even see it as a lost cause seeing as you already have several of the brothers vying for your affections.
For Solomon to act on a crush that he’s already decided is hopeless, it’ll be up to the MC to show that THEY are interested in HIM
He finds no particular pleasure in being someone who is chased after or “playing hard to get,” but he already has a complicated relationship with complicated relationships. He’s gonna need a down payment of affection a sign that there’s anything even there to pursue
Traditional flirting, while he’ll have his fun with it (and probably enjoy it at least a little - who doesn’t like feeling desirable?), doesn’t really work for him. Lots of people and creatures have used it to try and charm him, plus he has a pact with Asmo, so at this point he really sees it as more casual fun then an indication of true interest.
Honestly, to get him to realize “oh shit I actually have a chance,” you’re going to have to do two main things: 1) make him feel chosen over the others, and 2) respond to his displays of affection
Making Him Feel Chosen
This isn’t really a competition thing, or some selfish hoarding of your time. The thing is, Solomon knows he isn’t the only one in the running and he knows that anything he has to offer, somebody else could give you a portion of it.
(You won’t get the same experience or combination of traits with somebody else obvi, but with 11 suitors and an added chihuahua, there tends to be a little bit of overlap with everyone)
A crush for Solomon is a romantic interest, but if he intends on pursuing a serious relationship (which, I feel, is what he intends to be the final goal of his crushes as opposed to more casual affairs), he needs to see SOME reciprocation
Being with him is an ordeal, maybe a lifelong one for you, so he needs that assurance that it’ll be worth it and there aren’t better avenues
Basically, this means that ✨ quality time ✨ is of the utmost importance
At first, it doesn’t have to be anything big. Sit with him at lunch when you see him in the cafeteria, meet him in the library while you wait for your demon escort to be finished with their extracurriculars, chat him up in the one class you have together (and then ask him to help you study what you missed in class by talking. it’s a required transfer class but you already know everything about it, right, Solomon? 🥺)
As your relationship progresses, that’s when things start to get harder. Invite him out to things that you think he’ll enjoy, and say yes to as many excursions with him as you can. Bonus points for making it clear that you want to go when you’re unable to attend.
(He finds himself a little embarrassed how happy it makes him when instead of just a “no” or a “sorry, not today” he gets something like “I’m on dinner duty so I have to spend that time preparing :( but we should definitely make a date so you can tell me about it later!” It makes him feel like a priority.)
It isn’t until you find yourself comfortable enough to ask him to accompany you to something you want to do that he starts to realize you’re hanging out with him for him and not because he’s just offering up a bunch of fun new experiences for you to try.
You don’t even have to say “hey, i’m pretty sure you know all about the birds in the Devildom aviary but I haven’t had a chance to go and would really like to spend the day with you. Wanna come with?” If it’s something that he knows you know isn’t in his wheelhouse, he’ll be able to figure out that OH.....you’re inviting him for HIM.....oh
Make him feel like a priority, like he’s the one that you want, even out of all your choices. You can be as enthralled by the birds in that aviary as you want, just as long as you make it clear that your enthusiasm to be with him is on the same level and he’ll finally kick himself into gear.
Responding to His Affections
Now, you don’t have to do anything you don’t like. I hear in his dame card devilgram he’s a consent king, and he stands by that every day of the week
He also isn’t the type to need an exact equal to everything he does. Yes a relationship is a two way street, but this isn’t saying that if he gets you a gift you need to present him something with equal or greater value within the next 24 hours. he’s not mammon haha i’m so FUNNY
Just...let him know that he’s doing things right. His serious relationships are few and far between and people change as often as the times do, so make sure that he knows what he’s doing is landing. He’s not insecure per se, but he would like to know that he isn’t making a fool of himself entirely, you know?
Don’t brush him off in front of the brothers or he’ll think he’s read the situation all wrong and you’re back to square one. If you do it because you don’t like touching and he put an arm around your shoulder or something, that’s fine, but if he thinks you’re uncomfortable being with him in front of the brothers he’ll wonder if you even liked him at all.
To him, a secret relationship isn’t really feasible. First of all, those brothers are ALWAYS in your business so bold of you to think you’ll have ANY secrets by the time the exchange program is done, and secondly, don’t you both have enough on your plate that you shouldn’t make something that makes you happy needlessly complicated?
He is an odd case and knows there’s a lot that comes with him, so if you’re uncomfortable simply showing that you’re in a relationship and reciprocating, he’ll think you aren’t equipped to handle.....All That.
In case you haven’t noticed, he’s weird. He’s a weirdo. He doesn’t fit in. And he doesn’t want to fit in. Have you ever seen him without that stupid cape on? That's weird.
If you respond to his affections in a similar way, such as putting you arm around his waist or a hand on his back when he puts an arm around your shoulder or reaching up to fix his hair when he reaches to mess with yours, it’ll make him happy for sure. He doesn’t have any specific expectations for you but he’ll like to feel like you’re on the same wavelength.
A lot of his affections are morphed into specific and targeted teasing (but not like *gently bullies u* teasing). It’s a lot of inside jokes at your expense (and the more inside jokes he has, the more he probably likes you)
It’s also a lot of messing up your hair, sharp pokes and frustrating games like “guess what?” “i don’t know, what?” “i told you to guess, MC.” “ugh...you won the lottery” “guess better” “please don’t do this to me Solomon”
He probably responds best to Acts of Service and Quality Time (though at any stage in the relationship he’s a flexible man). While he’s trying to woo you to solidify his spot in first place against everyone else, if you continue to make the effort to be around him or like. recognize he’s taking time out of his day to romance you and do something for him in return he’ll cement the fact that oh yeah, this is happening between the two of you
(not to say that romancing you is a chore, because it’s not, but man if it doesn’t make him happy that you’re wanting to make his life easier on him so he can pursue the other things he enjoys, too.)
What a Relationship with Solomon is Like
He isn’t the biggest person on PDA, or at least not on purpose. He won’t see you and immediately be like ‘oh there they are i need to kiss them kiss kiss kiss’ or whatever, but he’s not averse to it?
He doesn’t want physical affection to be a big deal, or at least not in public. unless that’s what you’re into ;) If the two of you are out and about and you kiss his hand, or you’re a generally physically affectionate person he’ll smile and respond and be generally unbothered by it, but don’t expect him to ever really have the desire to like make out in public or something. Really, you probably won’t get much more than a quick kiss because he DOES always have other things on his mind.
You will NOT be able to get out of him messing with you. If you need him to tone it down that’s fine, but the more you let him get away with, the less energy he’ll have to redirect into other troublemaking activities
Has a weird thing with licking too probably? like he’s not gross about it and it’s not like a NSFW fixation but he’ll do that mom thing where he licks his thumb because “you’ve got something on your cheek” and then reveal that he’s a LIAR
or he’ll put his face really close to yours and stick his tongue out when you turn your head so it hits your cheek
it just gets such a DRAMATIC reaction out of you so that’s why he does it? if you ask him genuinely to stop he will but if you comment on it he’ll just give you a small smile and not say anything then continue to do it
when he messes with you, it’s ok if you say he’s doing something weird but don’t make him feel childish. setting boundaries (and making regular observations - he is kinda weird) is more than alright but admonishing him just feels......off and will turn him sour for a bit
VERY appreciative of someone who supports his adventurous side. Also fond of someone who’s happy to tag along but knows that some things he has to do on his own.
Even if you don’t want to go, he’ll appreciate the support or the interest you show in what he does. Ask him where he’s going and what he’s doing there, but ask him because you’re interested and not because you’re overly worried.
Please be there for him when he gets back to talk about it. He really likes feeling important or cool when he tells his tales, even if all he did was go and catch a few magic salamanders or something.
PLEASE be a soundboard for all of his ideas. He knows that sometimes he’ll talk about things that are way over your head that he hasn’t learned yet, but he really does want your undivided attention. It doesn’t matter if you’re encouraging him, debating with him, telling him the idea is stupid (though don’t pull this one too often unless you intend to ask to be let in to the fun) or just watching in confusion. It’s important to him that you value what he has to say, and he hopes one day that he’ll be able to tell you anything and you’ll have a response to it all. (Even if you don’t learn magic to the degree he knows it, he hopes you’ll get to a point where you understand what he wants, even if you don’t know what magical elements he’s talking about or something.)
A relationship with Solomon is one where you’re both independent, but also can’t imagine not going to the other at the end of the day. It’s startling how quickly you become constant in the other’s life despite being in COMPLETELY different stages of magical development and learning about the demon world.
The relationship will be lots of fun, but there will be many serious moments, too.
They’ll happen randomly. Maybe something from a class or a spell reminds him of something from his past, or maybe he’s reminded that he can’t remember so many things that he knows were important to him.
Sometimes, his Tuesday night blues will feel like a life-changing existential crises for you, but please, do what you can to be there for him in these moments. It worries him how much love and happiness he’s lost, especially when he knows he promised to remember it.
Once you get him to think aloud, he’ll say super heavy stuff life “What if I’ve forgotten who I really am and now I’m just something other people and magic have morphed me into?” or “When will the human race evolve or go extinct and leave me behind?” and it fucks you up, really. It fucks him up too
But please be patient with him, because there’s something important he has to get off his chest eventually. He’s worried already that he’ll forget you the way he’s probably forgotten so many others, but he doesn’t want to offend you and know that saying it would come off as uncaring.
You won’t have an answer for these moments, and he knows it. It’ll be best if you just hold him tight, stroke his hair if you’re laying down, and reassure him that you don’t care.
With how long he’s been alive, you’ll have to get past caring if you’re his “one true love” because he doesn’t have that. He gave up the right to having a one true love in exchange for never-ending life. But he still loves and he does love deeply, it just has a lot to cut through to properly be articulated.
So tell him. Tell him you know he’s had other loves, that you know you might not even be the best partner suited to him that he’s had. Tell him that you know when your time has come, he’ll find someone else eventually.
Tell him that what matters to you is that he loves you now, that he’s making things work with you now, and that he isn’t secretly yearning for some lover that’s come to pass or yet to come when he’s with you.
You can’t control what happened in the past or what happens in the future, but right now he’s yours and you’re his and he needs to learn to take things one lifetime at a time. Right now is YOUR Solomon time, and what happens after is just a consequence of time and you’ve already forgiven him for it.
instead of “mom says it’s my turn on the xbox” it’s “god says it’s MY turn on the Solomon”
send that to him for real and he’ll probably never forget you lol
How to Make a Relationship with Solomon Work
With all this in mind, the key to a good relationship with Solomon is keeping his head on his shoulders.
He’s ambitious, powerful, scary smart, and capable of so much more than you can even guess and he knows it. It’ll be good for him to have somebody to keep him on the ground.
Now, don’t be overbearing. If you try to stop him from going places or try to hinder his pursuit of knowledge out of fear for his safety, that’ll cause unbelievable strain on him. You will have to learn to let him work his things out the way he wants to, and it won’t always be the safest or most responsible way either.
He doesn’t mind a gentle scolding if he gets hurt. He won’t say it, but he kinda likes to be reminded how important he is to you.
Also be down to have fun and be a little reckless. Your safety will always be a priority to him, but nobody ever got anywhere without a little struggle, right? Sometimes adventuring with him and following him into the darkest magical corners of the world will require multiple (sometime literal) leaps of faith, but he’ll always be there to catch you.
Let Solomon work for you and the relationship, and you work to keep him sane and remind him that he can belong somewhere, even when he’s been himself for who knows how long and nowhere ever really stays the same.
You’ll always have to remind Solomon that not everything revolves around magic and power. He’s not been mortal for some time, so he gets caught up in the heady and lofty topics and ideas.
Remind him about the simple joys of just having fun and goofing off, that not every moment not spent on homework has to be spent on potions. Remind him (in the human world) how cool a sunset is, or convince him to go through a museum and pretend he’s seeing everything for the first time.
As much as he lives for understanding the grand topics most people can only dream of beginning to grasp, remind him of the little things. Remind him of human indulgences that he’s abandoned. Get him back in touch with that part of himself.
Solomon as a character feels like he’d be really aloof, but he’s honestly extremely devoted to what he invests his time in. He shows this devotion in small ways that feel more like riddles sometimes, in the way he always comes back after a rather dangerous magical excursion, in the way he shortens his time away so he can get back to you, in the way he learns to quiet his mind so he can properly take care of you and what you need and strengthen your relationship.
One thing that I think is a hallmark of a relationship with him is that Solomon loves things that can teach him more about what he doesn’t know. You don’t need to be the smartest person on the planet, or have a specialized and thorough education in some bizarre topic, or come from somewhere entirely different than what he knows to keep his interest.
You are uniquely human, and you help teach him about himself, the one thing that he can never seem to properly grasp and understand the way he wants to.
More importantly, you are you, the one who made pacts with all seven demon lords, the one captured his heart and promised to take care of it when you could throw it away for anybody else.
And you are the only one who could say those words that he believes. Hopefully, you’ll believe him when he says them, too.
#i feel like i was toeing a line that might have like. disrespected aromanticism and if i did i am so sorry#i just think that like. personally as someone who is alloromantic but not necessarily super OBVIOUS about feeling romantic attraction#there is a line between just being casually romantic or something and aromantic like#yeah i wanna marry my best friend but i still wanna MARRY them you know#marriage being taken here in a romantic context and not just a social institution#i don't know. maybe i just want him to be romantic so i can be romantically involved with him and i'm digging too deep with it#tldr aromantic rights!!!#obey me#obey me shall we date#swd obey me#obey me swd#solomon#obey me solomon#solomon hcs#mine#solomon fluff#?#long post
263 notes
·
View notes
Text
You know, it’s an interesting thing to see RWBY fans act like it’s a bad faith criticism when people don’t automatically assume that everything Ruby does is one hundred percent good and justified. In fact, ever since season six, it seems like people consider the only proper way of thinking to be A) assuming that anything bad that’s happening is entirely not Ruby’s fault. B) assuming that anything Ruby does in these situations is justified, needed, and good. And C) assuming that Ruby is going to fix anything bad that’s happening shortly.
I’m becoming more and more convinced that much of the so called ‘bad faith criticisms’ that mega fans and simps are concerned about are frequently just people not assuming that those three things are always true. Many fans have taken to filling in the blanks for CRWBY, which is something that’s generally expected in all media with a strong fan presence, but is taken to the extreme in RWBY where many fans are now deciding things and deeming them canon all in the name of making Ruby look as blameless and good as possible. That’s why there are fans insisting that Ironwood invaded Vale and has no combat experience, it’s completely untrue with no canon to support it, and yet is seen as the only definitive reading allowed by many fans, and that’s because it makes Ironwood look like he’s always been a horrible incompetent fool, so Ruby no longer looks bad by lying to him and then casting him aside. That’s why there are fans insisting that Ruby and co had to get across the border to Atlas quickly and couldn’t waste any time waiting, that’s why fans insist that Cordovin forced Ruby’s hand by not giving her a peaceful option despite the peaceful option she literally offered on screen. That’s why there are fans insisting that Ruby only stayed in the mansion in volume eight because she couldn’t leave Nora or because Ironwood would’ve arrested her and she was forced to prioritize her safety because she knows she’s imperative to the war. That’s why there are fans saying that no reading where any single person was left behind in the evacuation from Atlas to Vacuo is acceptable despite Qrow, Maria, and Pietro all being left behind, and the concept of ‘Ruby saved everyone’ being unequivocally false due to the soldiers that died facing Salem, the on-screen deaths of named characters including Penny, and anyone who Cinder knocked off the bridge.
These fans are ignoring canon things like that, canon things like there being a clear and peaceful solution to getting over the Atlas border, and Ruby spending episodes and I think around an in-show day despairing that she doesn’t know what to do and wants someone to come save her where characters are literally telling her she needs to leave the mansion and Ruby gives no solid reason why she shouldn’t except that they shouldn’t pick sides. They ignore any indication in canon that Ruby is just wrong or just faulty and construct a narrative where Ruby is one hundred percent right and sympathetic, and then they consider anything that didn’t automatically adhere to that rule to be ‘bad faith.’
“Why didn’t you just assume that Ruby was going to apologize to Ozpin next season? That’s a bad faith criticism, this is a story, so not everything is gonna be resolved super fast.” “Why didn’t you realize that Ruby was right to be upset with Ozpin and was justified because Ozpin lied to her about important things? Oz should be the one apologizing to her, that’s a bad faith criticism.” “Why didn’t you realize that Ruby only lied to Ironwood because she wasn’t sure she could trust him? Her situation with Oz is completely different, he isn’t learning his lesson and hasn’t apologized. Ruby is going to trust James later and prove she’s better than Oz.” “Why didn’t you realize that Ruby never would have trusted James because he’s always been shady and she knew that and she only worked with him in the first place because she had to in order to use his resources?” “Why didn’t you realize that James was the one not trusting Ruby and she was the one trusting and he broke that trust and Ruby was willing to work with him only he wasn’t willing to work with her?” “Why didn’t you realize that Ozpin was always bad and incompetent and Ruby is being gracious to allow him back in her group now that he apologized for not trusting her?”
What we have is a bunch of people deciding what’s going to happen (and quickly forgetting they said that if it doesn’t happen,) re-writing what did happen, ignoring the canon as it’s happening, and filling in any blank they get with whatever makes Ruby look as good as possible, and then they consider anything that doesn’t comply with that to be bad faith.
Ruby is a flawed protagonist. In fact, she’s way more flawed than what the show expects us to think. She’s naïve, she lacks foresight, she’s reckless, she overestimates her own abilities and her friend group, she’s stubborn and only listens when she wants to, she’s arrogant at times, she’s become unforgiving, she’s at least somewhat controlling with her friends, she only sees in black and white and alienates anyone who doesn’t fit her exact moral code, and she’s recently taken to mood swings, shutting down, and bouts of indecisiveness that freeze her up and prevent her from taking possible life saving actions, she’s more ‘ends justify the means’ than she admits, and she’s hypocritical.
Now, if you don’t read Ruby with all of that and think I’m being a bit too harsh, that’s fine. There are good things about Ruby too (though admittedly I’m seeing her amazing traits from the early seasons way less in the recent seasons,) and she does some good things. But she does have flaws and she does make mistakes, and what I’d really like to see is less people constantly making excuses for literally everything she does or says, and more people admitting when she makes mistakes. Maybe a “she really should’ve asked Penny before turning her into a human” instead of a “of course she asked her it was just off screen you loser!” Maybe a “she shouldn’t have decided to lie to Ironwood without talking to her team about it at least,” instead of a “the team trusts Ruby and she would’ve asked them if she’d been given a chance you stupid freak!” Maybe a “Ruby really froze up for a good portion of season eight, she made quite a few mistakes, I wonder how she’ll come back from it,” instead of “Ruby was forced away from the fight because Ironwood would’ve had her executed and she’s smart enough to know that!”
Main characters in stories are supposed to make mistakes and have flaws, it gives a personal growth that’s relatable to their victories and gives opportunity for growth in character dynamics, and goes towards making them feel more realistic and likable. Of course not everyone is going to like, say, a main character who is arrogant and over steps boundaries, but that character also can therefore grow and change and adjust, and that is very likable to most audiences. The best protagonists in media are deeply flawed characters that try hard to overcome not only the big problems they face, but the small conflicts that come from their own actions and the reactions they have to what other people do. Ruby should have flaws, she should make mistakes, and she does! One of the biggest problems with the show RWBY is their refusal to treat Ruby’s flaws as flaws and their inability to let her grow. And one of the biggest problems with the fandom is people’s inability to treat Ruby’s flaws as flaws and their insistence that everyone adhere to the rules of ‘Ruby is always justified, always right, and will always fix everything.’
#rwde#rwby hate#anti rwby#rwby bashing#rwby criticism#anti ruby rose#canoncrit ruby rose#pro ironwood#pro iw#ironwood defense#pro ozpin#anti fndm
29 notes
·
View notes
Note
"No matter what I'll always come after you" for Vesper?
Okay, this, as usual, ran away from me to the tune of 2300 words, but I’m not complaining. (It does touch on game events, including the end, just so anyone wanting to avoid spoilers is aware)
----
Most children threatened to run away from home at least once. Vesper just hadn’t expected Constantin--of all people--to make good on it. (Though maybe she should’ve.) While her mother and uncle debated where he might have gone and organized searches for the palace and city proper, Vesper snuck out a side door and headed in the opposite direction, toward the meadow where they’d picnicked few days ago. Constantin had wanted to explore more, but their governess wouldn’t let him. If he was feeling defiant enough to make good on running away, she’d bet he went back there.
And the deep footprints in the riverbank mud bore out her theory. He proved easy to find once she had his trail, headed straight for a patch of woods, though she found him more from the yelp than his trail.
A yelp that presaged his falling from the tree he’d been trying to climb.
“Constantin!” Vesper lunged forward to catch him, but thanks to the limits of ten year old legs, only sort-of managed to break his fall. (Whenever her growth spurt wanted to show up would be fine by her.) “Are you alright?!”
“What’re you doing here?” Constantin demanded instead of answering. He looked alright, if dirty and still petulant.
“Looking for you,” Vesper retorted, nudging him off so they could both sit up. “We were worried-”
“I’m not going back,” he interrupted sulkily, poking the dirt with a stick. “I’m sick of sums. And behaving myself.”
“I can tell,” she teased, brushing dirt off the knee of his breeches. “But our parents are worried sick, and I feel like the longer it takes to find you, the more trouble you’ll be in.”
Constantin jabbed the stick more viciously into the ground at the base of an ant hill, and was silent a long moment before nodding. “...Fine.”
Vesper helped him to his feet, brushed more dirt off his clothes. There was nothing that could be done about the scrape on his forearm, or the ripped sleeve that hung around it, however.
They were halfway home before he took her hand and mumbled a slightly grudging, “Thanks for coming after me.”
Vesper smiled. “Always.”
----
Raised voices had become so commonplace in the family portions of the house, Vesper barely batted an eye at the muffled strains of the Prince in contention with someone yet again. She knew who it likely was even before hearing Constantin’s protesting retort. She knew how this would go, too, and finished the current page of her book, setting it aside with a sigh.
As usual, her uncle’s voice rose in both volume and quantity of words until she could almost make out the words of his tirade from three rooms down the hall. As usual, there was a long, rebellious pause, then Constantin’s voice so low she barely picked up the murmur of it, then a slammed door. As usual, Vesper counted to twenty, then went after him. As usual, he was on the balcony that looked toward the harbor, sitting on the ground with his back against the wall.
“Should have known you’d come after me, with a row like that,” Constantin said without looking.
“Always,” Vesper said lightly. “You alright?”
He shrugged, gaze fixed toward the horizon.
She waited him out, knowing the words would come.
“It’s never good enough for him,” Constantin finally spat. “I’m never good enough. Everything I do, Ves. It’s always just a little wrong, or falls just a little short, or a little too embarrassing, or I’m a disgrace to the family name! He’s never happy!”
“He does ask a lot from you,” Vesper agreed softly, because it was true. Knowing her uncle had reasons for his high standards--the family’s position, Constantin being his heir--didn’t negate how impossibly high the bar seemed some days.
Especially with it being set for Constantin. Who liked to flirt with the wrong people and fight with the wrong people and never really could seem to hold his tongue.
But he didn’t need censure or critique now, not from her, he needed a listening ear. So that’s what she did. She listened. She sympathized. And she let him calm down from the heights of ranting before she even suggested heading back inside.
She was stiff from sitting on the ground so long, but seeing him smile again was worth it.
----
The air around the tavern stank of cheap beer and vomit, which was better than most nights. Vesper wrinkled her nose and tried to ignore it. Damn Constantin for choosing this one, though he’d likely done so banking on the knowledge she’d be reluctant to follow him here alone. Unfortunately for him, if that had been his thought process, it hadn’t taken much to convince Kurt to come with her. (It may have involved the words ‘I’m going regardless’ from her, and grousing from Kurt, but she knew, despite his grumbling, he liked her and Constantin more than he’d admit. Hence him following her to four other taverns before this one.)
They’d barely taken two steps inside when the unmistakable sound of Constantin singing reached their ears, and Vesper groaned.
“I won’t tell the prince where we found him if you don’t,” Kurt muttered behind her.
Vesper’s mouth twisted in a wry smile. “Oh, my lips are sealed, it’s his I’m worried about.”
Kurt just grunted in response to that, and the two of them made their way through the crowd until they found her wayward cousin.
“Vesper!” Constantin grinned when he saw her. Not drunk yet, but on the way. “Didn’t think you liked places like this, cousin.” He gestured broadly at the surroundings, sloshing his drink over the table. Well on the way to drunk, then.
She forced a smile. “Oh, but you know I’ll always come after you, dear cousin, no matter what it takes.” Even visiting shady taverns our parents would kill the both of us for patronizing.
He laughed and took a deep drink before slouching back in the chair. “Are y’ here to join me or drag me home?”
“The latter, I’m afraid,” Vesper said lightly. Her uncle was on his way home from some diplomatic summit and would be in a foul temper if his son was missing upon returning. She needed to get Constantin home and sleeping off this afternoon’s escapades. “Though I do hope there will be no actual dragging involved.”
Constantin’s gaze flicked to where Kurt stood behind her, arms crossed, and grinned again. “Backup, Vesper? Worried you can’t corral me on your own anymore?”
His tone was playful, but she knew how swiftly that could change when he was in a mood, and she chose her words accordingly. “Two pairs of eyes are better than one, and it is part of his job to watch out for us. I was worried, cousin. You’ve been gone most of the day.” She left off they’d been looking for him almost half of that time.
“Afraid I got kidnapped or broke my neck?” Constantin teased, taking another drink.
“Among other fates," Vesper said with an easy laugh. Both of those are actual possibilities with you. “You know I have a vivid imagination.”
He laughed as well, loud and tipsy, and leaned forward to clumsily pat her hand. “As you can see, I’m fine, dear cousin.”
“Yes, it does appear you had an enjoyable afternoon,” she agreed, deciding she didn’t want to know the origin of the stains on his shirt and coat. Or where his hat ended up. (If he had even worn one.) “My mother’s fretting herself silly about you, though, Constantin, what say we head home and put her mind at ease?”
He took long enough to answer she was afraid he’d dig in his heels and she’d have to have Kurt yank him out of the chair. But he rolled his eyes and pushed the nearly-empty tankard across the table. “Oh, fine. Wouldn’t do to have my beloved auntie worrying herself sick.”
He stumbled getting to his feet, and Kurt grabbed his arm to keep him upright.
“Thank you,” Constantin slurred, leaning against him heavily. (He’d been closer to drunk than she thought, apparently.)
“Just doin’ my job,” Kurt said with a grunt, accepting the inevitable and tugging Constantin’s arm around his shoulders as they headed for the door. He shot Vesper a look she’d almost call impressed. “Nice going. You’ve got a way with words.”
Vesper bit back a laugh as she pushed open the door. “Thank you. I have to counter my abysmal showing with a blade somehow.”
Kurt chuckled, and she caught the faint flash of a smile before he bit it back. “You’re still learning, Green Blood. Give it time.”
“That does help with a lot,” she said, glancing at her thoroughly inebriated cousin. Hopefully time would help smooth away some of his more worrisome habits.
At the very least, though, it would help with his hangover.
----
One thing that came in handy, with how often Vesper found herself in these scenarios, Constantin was loud. He was loud when he was celebrating, loud when he was complaining, and he was loud now.
Vesper could hear him hollering demands and derisions at his captors well before she and Kurt reached the warehouse where he was being held.
“D’you think there’s any chance of this becoming a less frequent occurrence when we reach the island?” she asked as she scanned the building for discreet ways in.
Kurt pressed his lips together--whether biting back a smile at her question or annoyance at her cousin, she couldn’t tell--and shrugged. “Only time will tell, I suppose.”
Vesper bobbed her head to concur with his assessment and resumed searching for a way in. Fortunately, it proved easier than anticipated to sneak inside the building. She’d rather not incite a brawl just before leaving Sérène. It was equally easy to follow Constantin’s yelling to the room serving as his makeshift cell.
“Constantin, shhh!” Vesper hissed against the keyhole.
There was silence, then, slightly quieter and much more effusive, “Ah, cousin, there you are! I knew you’d show!”
“We can’t leave without you, Governor D’Orsay,” Vesper reminded him as she examined the lock. “And you know I’d come after you anyway.”
“Always.” There was a grin in Constantin’s voice. “If you’re looking for the key, I believe one of the rapscallions mentioned a desk?”
That was indeed its hiding place. And she found his effects in the trunk beside it to boot. Her cousin was almost giddy as he burst from the small room the moment the key turned in the lock.
“That’s more like it!” he crowed, clapping her on the back and nodding toward Kurt. “Thank you ever so much for the rescue, dearest cousin and loyal Captain. Now” --he snatched his hat from pile in Vesper’s arms-- “let’s go have an adventure, shall we?”
She schooled away a smile at his enthusiasm and held his coat out of reach. “Constantin? Remember how we discussed Teer Fradee being an opportunity for a fresh start? Please endeavor to keep that in mind.”
“Yes, of course, dear cousin.” He darted forward to grab his coat and she let him have it. He pulled it on and whirled around with a flourish. “We shouldn’t keep them waiting.”
Vesper shook her head and smiled as she tugged him toward the route she and Kurt had used to enter. While somehow Constantin’s enthusiasm managed to make more noise than Kurt’s armor, they did make it back out unchallenged. She grabbed Constantin’s arm to tug him toward where Captain Vasco waited.
Her cousin was right about one thing--they’d delayed long enough.
---
The winged form of the High King came crashing to the ground with her second to last round through his throat. Vesper ignored the still twitching body. Kurt or Sìora could check he was actually dead, she only cared about Constantin.
Her saber clattered against the stony ground as she lunged toward the half-constructed cairn around her cousin and started pulling it apart with her bare hands. Once free enough, Constantin slumped limply against her chest and Vesper held him close.
“...Vesper?” he mumbled, barely audible, through lips chapped and scarred by the malichor and heaven only knew what else.
“I’m here,” she said, voice shaking with relief they gotten here in time. “I come after you no matter what, remember?”
There was no reply, the weight of him heavy against her chest, but she could still feel him breathing.
“Hold on, cousin,” she murmured. He was so quiet, so still. They needed to get him to a healer.
There was a hand on her shoulder and Kurt crouched next to her. “Green Blood.”
Because it was Kurt, Vesper didn’t try to hide the lingering worry in her eyes as she released her hold on Constantin so Kurt could take him for the journey down the mountain.
She tried not to let King Vinbarr’s words echo too loudly in her head as she and Sìora followed, tried not to let the foreboding take root, but the sheer desperation in the man’s voice still left a seed.
“He will be the end of us all!”
---
The trek up through Anemhaid was made all the more difficult by the heartsick dread steadily building in her chest, but Vesper made it. Alone; her companions stayed to help their people, and her heart was stuck at the bottom of the mountain. (Don’t be a hero, she’d said, knowing full well he would anyway because he couldn’t help himself, knowing she’d have to do the same.)
She didn’t want to be here, didn’t want to be doing this.
She finally slowed as she reached the main cavern, saw her cousin’s familiar silhouette.
“Vesper.” Constaintin almost smiled as he turned. “I knew you’d come.”
“Of course I did, cousin.” Vesper swallowed hard, chest tight, and rested one hand on the hilt of her pistol. She hoped against hope she wouldn’t need it, but the dreadful knot in her gut and strange glow in his eyes promised she would. “No matter what, I always come after you.”
#queens fic#greedfall#vesper de sardet#constantin d'orsay#kurt greedfall#ves/kurt#it's not in the spotlight but it's THERE
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
Cerberus - Part One
Summary: ...”An eerie shadowy figure looms across the way making my murderous blood run cold. It looks smaller than a bear so the thought of running into a bloodthirsty wild animal leaves my mind. It looks not like a wild boar or cat. Wait. There appears to be not just one figure looming across the meadow but two. My eyes widen. The figures don't move but they both stand like humans would upon two legs. But they are bigger… Much larger now that I squint across at these two unknown figures. My stomach drops as I feel like a low growl is produced by the looming, unwavering figures… with… glowing amber eyes?...”
~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~
Genre: Werewolf/ Shifter AU; Medieval AU; Strangers-To-Lovers AU; Heavy Angst; Soulmate AU; Eventual romance/ smut
Beta Read By: @justanothergirlfromeurope Thank you so much my darling for helping me with this! You are wonderful! Thank you! 💖
Rating: NC 18+, Explicit
Words: 5,379
Pairings: (Eventually) ot7 BTS x Human Female Reader
Warnings: Dark themes; Possible Yandere Vibes in the future; Death; Gore; Murder/ Killing; Implied Incest (nothing happens - I promise); Mentions of being naked/ being seen naked; I think that’s it.
It’s late July in the afternoon, the hot sun baking boils on exposed skin if you are a brave enough soul to show any flesh. The cicadas cry, the large winged beasts screaming into the scorching air, sounding like terrible, angry monsters. My giggles cut through the loud droning of the winged beetles, pleased to my core I even let out an unladylike snort, shoulders shaking as Seungkwan tells the group of us a joke. I sit with a few of my brothers - the princes of the land in which father rules - in the shade of the maple when the laughing ceases as a shadow blocks the sun from roasting us further. The younger crowd of my brothers and I look up to see it is men from the king’s court, walking over to our shady spot in the garden, solemn features, shiny hats, and a loyalty to my father is the only thing they share.
They say that mother has passed.
My brother Minghao gets up and asks where the older kin of boys are. The advisors tell him as he barks at us to stay here. The castle, they say. Infection, they say. Seokmin gasps, the bright smile like mother’s downturned at the news. Seungkwan’s joyful attitude dies. Vernon covers his face with his hands, a sob ripping from his throat. Youngest of my thirteen brothers, Chan, clings to me suddenly, tears welling in his large brown orbs as I hold him steadfast.
The food sitting in my stomach feels rotten and cursed all of a sudden. All the sound dies from my ears, my mouth hangs open as the breath escapes me.
Infection they say? How could they say such a thing? She was never ill, I think as people are running in and out of the castle, screaming and crying—something I wish I could do at this moment. I flinch, hearing my most vicious brother - Soonyoung - bellow a sound I wasn’t aware he was able to produce.
I feel the same, but only in my heart for my lips cannot utter even a simple, single whisper.
I was never close with mother even being the only daughter she had out of the fourteen children she created over the years with father when she was fertile - the only job a woman of nobility has in these times. And when she is finished having many children she is to still retain her youthful appearance which she did easily.
They said that she gave her children a little piece of herself when she birthed us all. Chan has her sparkling eyes, Seokmin her smile, Junhui has her high cheekbones, Soonyoung has her unbreakable spirit, Minghao has her sharp tongue, Jeonghan has her cunning brain, Jihoon has her feisty attitude, Mingyu has her ability to be understanding and kind in the midst of her fire and passion, Seungkwan retains her strange sense of humor, Wonwoo got her cool intelligence, Vernon got her uncanny skill to be so young but so strong at the same time, Seungcheol has her unyielding stride, and Joshua her wit. And they say that I am a twin of my mother physically: her hair, her body type, her smile, eyes, her wide hips, sharp shoulders, feet, hands, legs, and even my fingernails.
I only wish I had her spirit and fire my brothers bear, but perhaps they took it all before I was created in her belly? They say that children suck precious things out of you. Did I take everything else from her? Was my guilt eating me alive?
My father, the king of this land, kept her locked away most of the time in the high tower of the west portion of the castle. I don’t know much about father but I know he is easily jealous. He wants the best whatever that may be: the most children, the best cloaks, the best military, the cleanest streets, the shiniest coins, the happiest peasants, the most beautiful queen in all of the land. Father hated when mother would talk to anyone that wasn’t close kin at dinner time or when we went to the market when she would merely look at the fruit seller man. She would be gone for days, no trace of her for a week or so, emerging with tired eyes, brushing the stray hairs from my face as she smiled sadly at me. Little did I know there was no fruit seller in the cobblestone market either.
Still, my heart aches for a mother I had and hardly ever knew.
The sound of the boisterous cicadas fills my ears, hearing returning to normal as brothers Jeonghan and Joshua come to collect us shortly after that, faces made of what looks like stone.
-
It has been many moons since mother has passed. The air that was once ripe with colors and sounds is quieter now. It’s cool, my peacoat and shawl wrapped around me when I roam the garden in the afternoon with a different brother each day. It’s almost time for a harvest moon which comes in a week, Wonwoo told me on our walk yesterday. The demons and goblins of the underworld are said to have sprung up from the dirt and mud during these times. We sent mother away on a burning ship out to sea so I can’t help but wonder if mother is in the sky, the ground, or the sea still.
My brother Soonyoung and I walk quietly together, the brown leaves crunching under our boots. It is a rare time when his voice is still. I know he is pondering what to say to me.
What can one say to me?
I love them deeply though, their touch and affection they still bring to me after each day. Sun up to sun down they coddle me. They have always coddled me, even the elder ones who are fit and strong and ready to be wed treat me as if I am a babe. I used to hate feeling like this, like I am small and unimportant, a babe who needs protecting. The only daughter the king has ever had. One of fourteen. I am no one to my father, to his people. But to my brothers now I see, I am their youngest sister. Something they only have one of. They cling tighter to me emotionally and physically now that mother is no longer here.
I will take this feeling and hold onto it. I am important to them for that is why they treat me this way.
The sound of horse hooves clattering up the path behind startles me. Soonyoung shields me, pulling me into his warm chest. I am comforted and protected.
“Prince Soonyoung, Princess.” The captain speaks monotone. They do not call my name for I am a woman. Even of nobility and the pride of my brothers, I have no name besides my title.
The captain’s lips move. I have no idea if what I heard was true. Soonyoung snarls and tells them that it's preposterous and evil and to shoo before he cuts them with his blade attached to his hip. They turn on their stallions and leave, a fog rolling into the garden as I feel hot and confused.
Did I hear them correctly?
They say that father wants to marry me.
They say that he will never be able to find a bride as beautiful and as perfect as my mother. They said that I will wed at sunset tomorrow.
It is my turn to be made of stone as I fall into darkness. My breath is gone, a warm exhale hits the cool air, leaving my lips in a wisp before I pass out in my middle brother’s strong arms.
-
When I awaken, my eldest brother, Prince Seungcheol, is heard pleading with my father in the political hall. His usually calm voice echoes against the rock of the building, the fire crackling in his basins as my thirteen brothers all object to me being my father's next bride. His brows are kit, furrowed as his lips speak my thoughts for me while father watches with mild amusement, seated at his holy throne.
“She is not ready to be wed! She has not even bled yet!” He remarks, flinging his hands out to his sides. Little do they know, I have, I have just kept it a secret, becoming a woman is nobody's business but my own. “She is your daughter! Think, father! Think! How the kingdom will hate you for that! It is vile!” His voice cracks, tears swim in his brown eyes as my brothers shake their heads in agreement.
Yes. How vile indeed, I think watching them all silently behind a pillar from above the hall.
Father gets up with a wretched smile stretched upon his lips. I take a few steps forward, uncloaking myself from the secrets of the darkness in my nightgown a maid must have dressed me in, looking over the stone railing. “She is our littlest sister! Our only sister! She deserves to be married for love and only love-“
SLAP.
I gasp as my stomach pits into itself. My brothers flinch.
“How dare you talk like this to me, Seungcheol!” Father spits, anger flashing in his eyes like the fire in the torch basins. “She is a woman. She has no rights no matter who and what she is. She belongs to me.”
“How dare you treat Y/N like an object and not like your daughter!” Soonyoung snarls, mothers fire lit inside of him like the hot sun. He is brilliant and strong like a tiger who burns through the forest in his powerful wake.
Father raises his hand striking Soonyoung across his cheek with a sound that echoes in the corners of the hall. Something falls from his hands, though its clanking sound is covered up from the shouts that follow.
“How dare you thirteen boys!” Father is shouting, my feet are moving on their own, rushing down the stairs to my brothers. “All of you are utterly worthless!” He shouts as Mingyu, the tallest brother, rage ablaze on his face as he moves toward the king, arms raised as he acts like he is about to slap father.
Please, don’t! Is what I want to say, but I cannot.
“Guards!” My father shouts into the hall as they come running in at his command. “Flog them all hundred lashes each!” He smiles a wicked smile as I run up to the scene with the ones carrying swords and pointed sticks. “And if they make a sound give them ten more!”
My brothers are being beaten and detained and my heart is breaking into fragile glass as the noise and blood coming from their mouths is too much to bear.
I do the only thing I can do.
It is my turn to protect my brothers.
Please mother, give me all your strength to stand up to this vile, evil man who surely killed you for the sport of it. My gut twists thinking of the peril I may face rising to the challenge that is our father.
“Stop!” I say, my voice shaking as the next few seconds feel like hours and the eyes of all the men in the hall are on me. I walk toward my weathered and old looking father as he smirks a devilish grin down at me ascending the steps to his throne.
“Father please, I beg you: I will marry you and do whatever you say, as long as you let them go now.” My voice does not shake now. My voice is calm and steady. Mother’s spirit fills me at this moment as I speak up to my father. Before this, I have not spoken to him before this for what feels like eons until now.
“No!” Several of my brothers yell as I stand in false confidence, inhaling the iron from the red liquid that fills the hall. “No! No! No!” They shout as I stand in front of the man that doesn’t see me as a daughter. I am an object to him, whether I like it or not.
He smiles, stroking his wiry, grey beard as he sits back on his golden chair, cloaks draped over his shoulders pool and spill over the seat behind him.
“Whatever you say?” Father quips and I nod, hands balling into fists onto my sides, nails that are not mine dig into skin that is also not mine. “Then strip.”
My eyes grow wide, my lips part in shock, my blood which is mine boils, white-hot and merciless trapped in this skin that should belong to my mother.
“Father, please!” Jeonghan, my father’s son and second eldest, pleads now. “Be reasonable!”
“She said anything, boys.” My father, the ugly worm that he is, states calmly.
“Should a virgin be seen like this before she is wed?” Joshua makes a good point while father rips his pupils away from me as Jihoon, smart bugger that he is, recites the article of the kingdom where it is unlawful for a virgin to be seen in such a state before she is made another man’s woman.
Father scoffs as he says, “Flog them two hundred times if they don’t like-“
“No.” I say, holding my ground, brushing hair out of my face. All eyes on me again as Chan starts crying. “I will do what you wish.”
“Then do it!” Father shouts, banging his fist on the arm of the golden seat as he gets up. “Do it now and if anyone makes a noise: I will behead you.”
I do it. I find the buttons on my yellow nightgown, my hands do not shake or waver as I shake the comfortable garment from my shoulders. My slip is the only thing that covers me now. My brothers close their eyes, look away, Chan choking on his sobs but the only thing I can hear is the roar of the crackling of fire. I step out of my nightgown, walking up to my father's throne. I see it. Glinting in the torch light. A stray blade lies upon the steps close to the devil king that is my flesh and blood.
Praise the gods for the viscous middle brother I have.
I step out of my white slip now, distracting the men who have their wicked eyes set upon me, hungry wolves ready to take any meat they can. I hold my father’s gaze as it travels down my body, making sure he does not look upon what my right hand is doing.
I have it. I move quickly, the spirit of my mother now fully alive inside of the body that is said not to be mine.
But now it’s mine.
I am not a disrespectful child nor have I lashed out against my parents ever. I followed the rules without exception, never spoke out of turn and always let my older brothers go first for treats and presents. Always. I am a slave to my family and the system that I was born into. The ugly demons and snaggle-toothed goblins are really alive and well during this time as my brothers have said. The scent of strong ale hits my nose the closer I get. Maybe the beings of the underworld have possessed him? I am looking for a way out, a way to logically justify the way father is. But no. I know the real answer.
This man is evil. Has always been evil. And he needs to be stopped.
I am not a killer. But I am sick of the mistreatment of my family. I know my father killed my mother. There was no infection. None.
Like a crazy witch with eyes burning like white-hot coals, whose blood is singeing to be set free, I plunge the pointed blade into my father’s throat.
Blood spurts from his neck, squirting against my bare flesh, his eyes roll back as he gurgles profanity, my body blazing as my whole existence is overcome with the desire to end this cycle of corrupt injustice.
“Run!” Vernon shouts as the guards descend in my direction. I drop the blade in haste, my brothers scream for me to run away as the guards scream mutiny.
And I do.
—
-Somewhere deep within the neighboring wood...-
“I’m hungry.” A clear tenor tone sounds off in the dark wood, a small chuckle leaving his lips as he resumes a human form in all his naked glory. Hoseok’s lithe body full of sweat glistens under the moonlight as he reaches for his purple cloaks under the large tree in the middle of the bog they just finished running around in.
“Me as well, brother.” A deep bass vibrates off the trunks of the thick trees, his wolf form morphing into his handsome, tan body.
“Taehyung, Hoseok.” A soft voice wafts through the air. “We aren’t to feast before the full moon.” The eldest quips, melting from his shiny fur, shaking his dark locks free from his collar as he dresses under the almost pregnant moon.
“I can’t wait.” The second eldest grunts as he comes into the torch light that was burning on the stump next to their favorite tree. “The air is ripe with so much wildlife tonight.” He wets the edges of his lips, the thought of fresh, pink, juicy flesh at the forefront of his mind as well as his brothers.
“Where are Jungkook and Jimin?” Namjoon growls as he quickly morphs into his tall self, sweaty skin glistening under the light from the mother moon. Their run through the dense wood was very fruitful in the sense that they let loose and got a lot of pent up energy out of their bodies.
“Weren’t they behind you, Yoongi?” Seokjin questions as he scoops up the younger one’s clothes in his arms, signaling Taehyung and Namjoon to take the torch light. Yoongi shakes his white hair back and forth with a solemn grunt. “Very well,” Seokjin nods, twitching his nostrils in the air. “Hoseok, you have the loudest howl. Will you please call for the troublemakers?”
The man with the hair as bright as cherry pie chuckles right before he sucks in a large breath. The third eldest bellows a howl that will be heard throughout the wood surely.
They wait with bated breath for two of the younger brothers to respond. The wind whips around them carrying the smell of fallen, rotting leaves, thick moisture in the atmosphere, and the odor of something unfamiliar in the air. They all exchange looks in the torches' soft, orange glow. Something doesn’t feel right.
The five brothers start to become uneasy. Taehyung shifts on his feet. Yoongi wets the edges of his lips more. Namjoon shifts his eyes between his brothers, swallowing uncomfortably. Hoseok frowns, kicking a few leaves in the dirt as he waits for the brothers to return his call.
After another moment or two, the second eldest bristles, anger flashing in his amber orbs. “I swear if those wild banshees from the Twicelands have set another trap for us in our forest-“
The white-haired brother is cut off by the sudden cry of both of his brothers they were in search of, coming east off the dense bog.
“Come quickly!” Jimin yelps, his higher pitch ringing around the wood. “Come see brothers!”
Meanwhile, Jungkook only utters one word that has the brothers taking off like bats out of the deep trenches of hell. “Mate!”
—
My skin is on fire, my fingertips numb, and my feet hurt as I run naked from the castle into the blackness of the night.
I escaped through the kitchens, not a sane soul awake at this hour so I quietly slipped through the cracks. I hear more yelling and shouting but I cannot slow down. The blood of my father drips down my naked body, making me feel like a painted warrior.
A shout is heard from the stable. The men on my father’s court call my name but it is not a happy sound. It is a sound of lies, of deceit, of pain they want to inflict upon me. I shudder when I hear Soonyoung scream a throaty battle cry into the evening air, on his way to find these men and rip them limb from limb surely.
Under the almost full, pregnant moon, a blood bath is occurring in the usually peaceful castle.
I trip on an exposed root from a tree beyond the stables. When I gather myself, pushing up off the ground, I see a bed sheet hanging from a line out to dry and I snatch it from the air. I tie it, tugging it around myself loosely, giving my legs room to carry me off into the thick wood that lines the backside of the castle.
Dread and fear taint my senses as I pad along the brush barefoot, trying to maintain a quietness even though I am running. The fallen leaves crunch underfoot, the earth cold. My naked body starts to shiver, the adrenaline of my actions wilting away as I fly through branches and bushes. I have no clue where I am headed, the pale moonlight guiding me. Wherever I see on my path I go next.
My feet slip on the slick ground under my feet. I trip over my heel several times, mud and dirt covering my palms as I right myself. I must not look like a princess, so disgusting, covered in blood and unkept in this feeble, white bed sheet.
I have to press on, I remind myself.
My breathing is ragged as I climb through long, pointed branches and under low shrubs. I stop for a second to catch my breath as I glance at the almost completely blackened forest. The nightlife of the dark wood whispering around me: bats screeching overhead, crickets that haven’t died out sing into the cold night air, even a pack of wolves howl out into the throes of the velvet evening.
I suck in a cool gust of air, ready to trek along the unknown path once more.
Wisps of my breath leave my lips as the cold night air stings my lungs. It feels as though I have been running for ages, the torch light not visible through the thickness of the tall trees. Have I run far enough? I think as I come to a little clearing in the wood, a meadow of soft, lush clover encompasses the land.
An eerie shadowy figure looms across the way making my murderous blood run cold. It looks smaller than a bear so the thought of running into a bloodthirsty wild animal leaves my mind. It looks not like a wild boar or cat. Wait. There appears to be not just one figure looming across the meadow but two. My eyes widen. The figures don't move but they both stand like humans would upon two legs. But they are bigger… Much larger now that I squint across at these two unknown figures. My stomach drops as I feel like a low growl is produced by the looming, unwavering figures… with… glowing amber eyes?
A wind whips through the meadow quickly, breezing from behind me, whipping my hair and the bedsheet about like a flag on a pike.
I hear the sound of horses and I gasp, covering my mouth with the noise I just made. I shake my head, snapping out of my trance of looking to the almost human like figures.
Have they found me? Have the guards and the men of my father’s court located me? My brothers were surely fighting, right? I pray none of my kin have lost their lives because of me. Or are they not men from my father’s castle? Would they hurt me? Torture me? Deflower me?
I shudder.
I turn to run east, looking over my shoulder to the figures that have disappeared in the trees. A fog sweeping through the thicket, blocking my vision. It was probably a trick of my scared mind, I remind myself.
Another thought chills me to the bone as I feel the exposed skin of my legs and arms slice under the thorn bush I accidentally stumble into, making more noise than necessary. I squeak in pain. The more I try and pry myself of the spikes, the more I become entangled inside of the nasty, winding plant. I want to call for help but I don’t want to alert whatever is coming near me.
It is almost the harvest moon. The line between realms is blurred meaning creatures that normally I think exist in fairy tales are real at this time of year. Could it be a wandering herd of ghouls? A pack of wild demons coming to devour my flesh clean off my bone? My body shakes with uncertainty as I paw about the dirt.
Ever since I was a little girl, my brothers have warned me about the wood. I should never go in alone. I should always bring someone. I should always have a weapon or a horse or something to protect me. Monsters are said to lurk in the bog that the wood surrounds in a thick sea of lush brush and vegetation.
An owl hoots overhead as the sound grows thicker, heavier. The footfalls inching closer and closer by the second. The wolf’s howl sounds off again, this time the cries from the beast desperate - the noise much too close for comfort.
No, I think as I freeze with a bone-chilling noise that vibrates off the trees around me. Not just one lone wolf howl. There are two very distinct animal noises that echo off the earth I lie bound to. One softer and longer. The other a little nasally and short - more like a bark than a howl.
I should have run to the market, I think, body shaking from the cold and acute fear that plagues my mind. I should have tried to hide with a peasant or two until this treacherous act blew over or married a nobleman’s family in a neighboring town. Mentally I chastise myself as the thunderous noise draws closer and closer. Why am I so rash?
My heart hurts, it clenches in around itself as I look up into the shimmering moon hanging low in the sky. In a bed of thorns I lie, blood from wounds of my own and from my father still flows down my body, exhaustion overtakes me finally. I’m entangled, suffocating in the sharp spikes that pierce my body, choking me from the freedom I so desire. I can’t move my muscles, my body tense and sore, my feet blistered and cold. I’m weary. A tear rolls out of my eye and falls onto my dirty cheek as I snap my orbs tightly closed, the horses almost upon me, I think as I hiccup a sob.
All of a sudden, the boisterous noise of what sounded like a hundred horses pounding toward me, stops. I suck in a breath and prepare for the worst. An eye for an eye, right? So they should slit my throat like I did to father.
It is my turn to die.
“Little bird,” a soft, steady tenor of a voice purrs out above me that I don’t recognize. My eyes fly open, revealing a glowing torch light and a few handsome faces I cannot place hanging around me. “It seems you’ve flown far from your nest.” He simpers, flames dancing off his puffy lips as he gently brushes a stray hair away from my unkempt face. He shows no disgust, only empathy as he gazes upon me trapped in this tangle of wild thicket.
I flinch as the long thorn branches I have ensnared myself in are being removed from my shivering body. The other boys, I’m unsure of how many surround me, take extreme caution, trying not to harm me as they pull the plants off of me.
“Are you from Royaume des Diamants (Kingdom of Diamonds)?” His puffy, pink lips utter quietly in the night. I stare at his sculpted face, admiring his accent as I feel like the terrors of the darkness are melting away with his soft speech. I say nothing but look up into the rich eyes that seem to glow a golden-amber shade in the torch light. They bewitch me and I am in awe. “Little bird?” His perfect brows twist into an expression of concern and I take a moment to glance away from his otherworldly face and to his other features for a second.
Dressed in rich purple with gold medals hanging from his broad shoulders, I can tell he was from a family of prestige. His lips are giant and lush but they are not out of place on his pale face. He appears to be a prince from those fairy tales I’ve heard so much about from the stories my brothers have told me since I was a babe. His dark hair envelopes his face, curling just at the ends, making him look far younger than I am sure he is. They finish uncovering me from the thorns and all gaze upon me covered in blood, dirt, sweat - looking positively disheveled - the farthest thing from a princess.
“Hyung,” a deep bass speaks from behind the broad shouldered noble-man, “she’s shivering.” A tan boy with thick eyebrows observes above me. His velvety voice makes my cold body feel warm with the way his timbre seems to echo off the wood of the trees around me.
“I know you are probably frightened and it looks like you have been through a lot…” The prince-like man holds an arm out for me to take. “...and even though your lips don’t speak, I do not wish for you to freeze out here in the wood.” The boys surrounding me shake their heads in agreement with the handsome one speaking. “Will you come with us, little bird?”
I don’t want to die and I don’t want to die out here in the cold night. Even if they want to hurt me or worse, I don’t want to die frozen to death in the thicket. Somehow, I don’t think they are bad men, but my threshold of trust was high due to the internal struggle I faced with my family. Still, I feel oddly comforted by the seven who are mostly quiet above me.
As I go to speak - to tell them ‘yes’, opening my lips slowly, nothing comes out. Not a peep or a squeak I can utter. The boys share looks of confusion at my lack of acknowledgment. My orbs flit from one handsome face to the next. Are they all princes wearing the same cloaks of purple and gold? I register you all, I swear I think in my mess of a mind. My body is too exhausted, not being able to do anything but nod once.
That’s all they needed to collect me it seems.
“Come, little bird.” The soft voice purrs again as I am being propped up gingerly, carefully by one of the boys around me. I lull my head against his warm body, a blanket or a cloak (I haven’t a clue which) was placed upon my dirty body. This boy is strong, not struggling to hold me up in the slightest I think as my eyelids flutter. I look up to him. He has long, black-as-night curly hair that falls around his neck, smiling tenderly down at me, his nose is long and rounded at the tip, a little mole under his lip catching my eyes that flutter more and more with every breath I take. Sleep was overtaking my body now that I know I am safe. “We will take you to a place where you will not suffer any longer.”
And with that affirmation, I nestle closer in the arms of the strong, young boy, believing the prince-like voice that hums a sweet lullaby. I yawn while he continues stroking my matted, tangled hair as I fall fast asleep against this stranger's chest.
I miss the seven smiles and nods, drinking me in with their sparkling amber gazes.
---------
PART TWO
#bts#bts fanfiction#bts werewolves#bts werewolf#ot7 bts x reader#ot7 bts#kim namjoon#kim seokjin#jin#rm#min yoongi#yoongi#seokjin#namjoon#suga#jung hoseok#hoseok#jhope#park jimin#jimin#kim taehyung#taehyung#v#jeon jungkook#jungkook#cerberus#mintedmango#therealmintedmango
285 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
