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sourcherryandsprinkles · 11 months

Note

Conrad's panic attack at the end of episode 3 but instead of Steven, reader goes after him. Maybe they no longer speak and had a huge falling out

Seeing that scene gave me so many flashbacks of scary times. When it happens, you sometimes don’t know what is happening and there’s so many things happening at the same time. I often get them at night. Waking up unable to breathe, heart palpitations, shaky legs and feeling so hot no amount of cold air makes me cool enough. Or during ptsd moments.

Warnings: panic attack

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You were all gathered in front of the television, ready for a movie night. It happened one night filled the screen, a choice made by Belly, but no one was mad about it. Though the seating arrangements caused a few initial hiccups, everyone managed to find a comfortable spot. Belly and Taylor sat closely on the right end of the couch, Jeremiah and Steven on the left, and you occupied the middle. Conrad had the loveseat all to himself.

As the movie began, you couldn't help but steal a glance at Conrad, secretly wishing you were sitting beside him. However, things had changed between the two of you, and you hadn't spoken in months — not since the funerals.

Beside Steven, Jeremiah's soft laughter echoed, reminding you of the good times you all used to share. It felt like a brief return to the past.

A few minutes in, Conrad’s phone buzzed, drawing your attention. His expression shifted as he read the message, the light amusement on his face falling, the movie now entirely forgotten. He quietly got up, trying to not disturb anyone, and left the house through the backdoor.

A sense of concern washed over you as you watched him go. You couldn't help but wonder what the message on his phone could have been and why it affected him so deeply. Your first thought was that it was about his mom, but Susannah was gone now. So, it was either school or his dad.

Without hesitation or explanations, you stood and went after him. Steven opened his mouth to ask where you were going, but you ignored him.

Forgetting about shoes, you let the door slam shut behind you, only thinking about Conrad. You hurried down the deck, seeing his figure walking down the beach in the darkness of the evening. The beach and the sea had always been a safe place for Conrad, he found the sound of crashing waves created soothing.

‘’Conrad!’’ you called out in the distance.

He didn’t turn or stop. He kept walking to the shoreline, his back was hunched as his breathing became rapid and shallow. Like he was struggling to find air. You saw him place a hand over his chest right before he stumbled and fell to his knees in the sand.

Your eyes widened with worry, and you could feel your heart racing. ‘’Conrad!’’

This time, you ran up to him. The sand was getting between your toes, a feeling you absolutely despised, but you ignored your own discomfort and focused on Conrad. You fell down on the sand beside him, saying his name again.

Conrad looked up at the sound of your voice, his eyes wide with fear and vulnerability. His breaths were erratic, and it was clear he was struggling to regain control of the rising panic within him. His eyes were filled with distress, not understanding what was happening.

‘’I-I can't breathe,’’ he managed to say, his voice trembling. ‘’My chest feels so tight, I—’’

Your heart sank as you realized what was happening. Conrad was having a full-blown panic attack. You should have guessed faster. You knew the signs all too well. They can be overwhelming and debilitating.

‘’You’re having a panic attack,’’ you explained calmly, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

Conrad's gaze locked with yours, searching for some form of reassurance. ‘’Make it stop,’’ he stammered, his voice still shaking. ‘’Please, make it stop.’’ He clutched at his chest, gripping his shirt tightly, the air unable to pass through his lungs.

You had been taught a few techniques to come back from a panic attack, but you figured the fastest one would work best on Conrad.

You took his hand and put it over your chest. Conrad tried to push you away, but you didn’t let him. ‘’Follow my breathing.’’

It felt overwhelming to be touching you, to be so close to you. It made Conrad’s heart want to jump out of his chest. He tried his best to follow along, trying to focus on your breathing instead of how you made him feel. It was evident that he was struggling, but he made an effort to control his breaths, to follow your pattern.

Gradually, Conrad's breathing started to stabilize, and his panicked expression softened. ‘’That’s it. Keep breathing with me,’’ you encouraged him, offering a sense of safety and stability in the midst of his distress.

As the minutes passed, the panic attack began to subside. Conrad's shoulders relaxed, and his grip on your arm loosened. The crashing waves provided a natural rhythm for his breath, and he started to find a sense of calm.

Once he was in a better state, he looked at you with gratitude in his eyes. ‘’Thanks for…helping me,’’ he whispered, his voice still shaky but filled with appreciation.

‘’You don't have to thank me, Con,’’ you replied gently.

Con. You had not called him that in a while. It felt strange on your tongue.

‘’I want to,’’ he insisted. ‘’If you had not followed me out here, I would not have known what to do.’’ Conrad looked down, brushing sand off his jeans.

‘’Well, I’m glad to have helped you. I…I’m gonna go back inside, now. I know you don’t want me to be here.’’

His words had been harsh when he saw you arriving with Jeremiah yesterday. They stung, but you didn’t expect him to be happy to see you either. Not after your breakup at Susannah’s funeral.

‘’It’s not true.’’ Conrad lifted his head, but kept his eyes on the sea. ‘’I always want you to be there. Even when I say I don’t.’’

You looked at Conrad, surprised by his honesty and vulnerability. It was rare he would speak his emotions out loud. He was more of a bottling things up and rarely, if ever, expressing them kind of person.

‘’I'm sorry for what I said to you. For everything,’’ he said, feeling a pang of guilt in his chest. ‘’I never wanted to hurt you, but I did. I should have taken the hand you were holding out for me instead of ripping it off and seeking comfort in someone else's arms to hurt you enough that you'd hate me and go away.’’

As Conrad poured his heart out, you could see the pain and regret in his eyes. For once, he wasn’t pushing you away. He was opening to you and making confessions you never thought you would ever get.

He kept going. ‘’No matter what I do or say, you'll always be there. Here.’’ Conrad clawed at his heart and then dropped his hand. ‘’You’re engraved in my heart, Y/N, and I can’t get you out. I tried. I tried really hard, but something always pulls me back to you.’’

You took a moment to process his words, then spoke. ‘’Have you ever heard of the Red string of fate?’’ Conrad drew his eyebrow together, so you continued. ‘’It’s an ancient legend that originated in East Asia. The legend speaks of an invisible red string tying two together those who are meant to meet, no matter how far apart they live or how different their lives are. This magical cord may stretch or tangle, but never break.’’

Conrad traced over your pinky, as if he was visualizing the red string there. ‘’Do you think this string is— that our string is tied to each other?’’

You looked down where he was touching you, feeling a slight shiver at his touch. You looked back up into Conrad's blue eyes. ‘’Maybe,’’ you replied, reaching out to gently touch his hand.

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1

TSITP taglist: @msmarvelknight @maritaleane @dingus0401 @idontknowwhatimdoing777

#conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher fanfic #the summer i turned pretty #the summer i turned pretty imagine

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ninma · 2 months

Text

I just noticed a very interesting note in Alastor's ad in episode 1...

Who in Hazbin Hotel is the most associated with circus decor?

Lucifer.

Less than 5 min into episode 1 and we already get a hint that Alastor isn't a big fan of Lucifer.

Which is interesting because it implies that Alastor disliked Lucifer before he even involved himself with the hotel. They hadn't even met yet.

It's such a weirdly specific thing to add to a commercial too. Because when I think hotel, circus decor wouldn't be anywhere on my list of expectations.

It's clearly targeted towards Lucifer. An indirect insult Alastor probably had wanted Lucifer to see.

If this is the case, some of Alastor's commentary can be looked at slightly differently.

Lines like "Lucifer's delusional daughter", "Daddy issues" and the other insulting commentary can then also be partly aimed at Lucifer.

Which would probably be effective hits because Lucifer definitely wouldn't be happy about someone offending his daughter, but the "Daddy issues" line would probably make him feel guilt.

It's as if Alastor wanted to pick a fight the first chance he got to potentially reach Lucifer.

But like...why?

In episode 5 we have a reasonable explanation for why Alastor is poking at Lucifer. Alastor likes to be in control and have power over others, however even he knows Lucifer is more powerful than him. Therefore he aims at Lucifer's relationship with Charlie (which is what the dad comments are really about) to regain some of that power.

Which is why it doesn't make any sense for him to indirectly target Lucifer in episode 1.

Why pick a fight with the King of Hell when he barely had anything to hold over Lucifer?

When this ad was made, Charlie had known Alastor for only a week and therefore claiming to be close to her would be weird.

Heck, Alastor is even insulting Charlie and the hotel here, which definitely doesn't give him any favour from her.

Another point could be that Alastor is also partly annoyed at having to make a video. He probably doesn't expect it to air. But that still doesn't explain why he'd deliberately add a note directed at Lucifer.

So.....What's the deal here Alastor?

There isn't a clear reason for doing this.

The only one I can guess that makes some sense is that Alastor just wanted to feel some sense of power by indirectly insulting Lucifer, who is the most powerful being in all of Hell. Getting a chance to hit him where it hurts would probably bring Alastor a lot of satisfaction.

Another option is that it could be related to Lilith, if she turned out to be the one he made a deal with. It could be that Alastor's frustration over his deal makes him want to take it out on Lucifer (since he obviously can't take it out on Charlie). Lilith telling him to do it is possible, but I find it unlikely. Unless her real motive was pushing Lucifer out of his isolation and back into Charlie's life. Still find it unlikely tho.

In the end, it still feels weird for Alastor to be this intent on picking on Lucifer this early on. Taking advantage of the first opportunity to have a message reach Lucifer, despite Alastor neither having power or leverage over him if Lucifer had responded.

So...Alastor...

Care to spill the tea on why you're being so pissy?

(Sorry, couldn't resist-)

EDIT: I just realized how funny it is that despite saying there is no tacky circus decor, the hotel itself is FULL of it XD

Now that I think about it, that might actually be the joke behind the note.

(Admittedly, this might just be a fun bit of foreshadowing and doesn't really have any deeper meaning)

(Also, Lucifer's circus decor isn't tacky. I'd definitely be down for staying at a hotel with his aesthetic and decor. But, maybe that's just me)

(It kinda reminds me of how Vox immediately went to send a message to Alastor on TV the moment he learned of his return XD)

#Alastor is gone for 7 years and only one week after he returns he is already trying to pick a fight with Lucifer #can't wait to see their dynamic in season 2 XD #hazbin hotel #alastor #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin alastor #alastor and lucifer

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f1goat · 11 months

Text

the race winner x lando norris + part 2

in which you see your ex best friend again after he cut of contact between you two.

not proof read - PART ONE

sunday evening

“It’s insane how much I’ve missed you,” Lando tells you for the millionth time. Since he has ben cleared from the medical center, he has been by your side. He skipped all the media duties, just to be with you. You told him multiple times that you could wait, but he didn’t let you wait. It took him only a few minutes to get you inside of his rental car to get to his hotel together.

“I’ve missed you too,” you tell Lando again.

Lando smiles at you. You know he still needs to explain everything, but you are just glad that he’s back at your side. Together you’re sitting in his hotel room. Lando pulls you a bit closer to himself, draping his arm around your shoulders. You enjoy his movement but you know that you still need to talk to him before you can fully close this weird chapter.

After Lando told you he needed space from you, you were heartbroken. The first days you didn’t come out of bed. You were a complete mess. You tried contacting him for an explanation, but you were quick to find out that Lando blocked you on everything. Max helped you a lot, he kept telling you that there was probably a logical reason behind it. But you didn’t knew. You doubted yourself. It didn’t help that you are also in love with Lando. You have been forever. You even thought that he maybe found out and that that was the reason. But Max made sure you dropped that thought.

Now while finally sitting next to Lando again, you can’t help yourself and feel a few tears roll over your cheeks. It’s insane. You thought things would always be unsolved. Now you know where it came from. It wasn’t your fault.

“Come here,” Lando tells you softly. He pulls you even closer to himself. You let your body fall against Lando. You lean on his chest while he swipes away a couple of your tears. It’s no use, new ones are forming quickly.

“I’m so sorry,” Lando says, “so so so sorry.” You hear his voice crack a bit. When you look up at him, you notice that Lando is crying as well. The sight of him this sad, makes you cry even harder. You can’t stop yourself from sobbing loudly. Tears are streaming down your cheeks. Lando pulls you even closer towards him. He hugs you tightly. You barely hear him, but you swear that he’s still apologizing. “So sorry,” you hear him muttering.

“Why me?” You doubt if Lando hears you correctly. When you want to repeat your question, Lando is already looking up at you. You conclude that he did hear you, but he needs some time for his answer. You know you’ve asked Lando the same question before, but this time you won’t walk away without an answer.

Lando sobs a bit as well. He tries to make something clear, but the words are coming out as nothings. You wait for him to relax. Slowly you caress his back.

“It was Zak,” Lando then tells you. “But I shouldn’t have listened to him. I never listened, but that day.. It was so fucking bad.”

You wait for Lando to continue.

“Zak always tells me I’m not focused enough,” Lando explains. He talks a bit slower to help himself with the control over his own voice. “He thought it was you,” Lando continues. “He always talked about you being a distraction, but I didn’t do anything about it.”

You don’t understand Zak. Why would you be more of a distraction then his other friends?

“I always told him you were not,” Lando tells you, “but he didn’t really believe me. I guess he has his reasons, since he had some valid points sometimes. But still. He told me to cut ties with you for a while, so I could regain my focus on racing.”

“Valid points?” You ask surprised.

“Every weekend you weren’t around..” Lando starts doubtingly, he wants to explain himself as good as he can but he isn’t sure if he wants to confess his feelings to you. Yet. He just got you back, what if he will lose you again when he tells you? “Uh, I was in a really bad mood,” he continues, “and I was always busy with planning time with you. Texting you, thinking about when I saw you again or FaceTiming.”

“Oh.. I didn’t realize that,” you respond, “I never noticed..”

“It’s not your fault. I did all that,” Lando quickly speaks up.

“Maybe we can work on it?” You suggest.

“Yeah, we will see,” Lando shrugs, “I want as much contact with you as possible.”

“But why did you cut all contact?” You ask further, “What happened that day?”

Lando stays quiet for a bit. He thinks about all the possible answers. Can he tell you everything? He thinks about his own feelings that day. He was busy with the disappointing result, but he was also thinking about you all the time. Zak told him before the race and after the race that he should regain his focus or he would never win a race. The only way to regain his focus according to Zak was cutting of the contact with you.

“It was bad,” Lando sighs. “Zak visited me before the race. He told me I could never be a race winner if I didn’t regain my focus. According to him it was all you. It wasn’t new that he said things like that, but he kept repeating himself.” Lando takes a deep breath. “Then you came to my drivers room. Zak his words were still in my head and that race was so awful. I just lost my ability to think straight. I could only think about winning a race someday.”

He takes another short break again.

“If I think back at it, I don’t even know what I told you anymore and how I said it. I know this isn’t a solid reason, I shouldn’t have taken Zak his words this serious, but I was so hurt after the race. I didn’t think straight.”

“Relax Lan,” you tell him, “I forgive you.”

You don’t know when you made the decision to forgive Lando this fast, but you don’t feel any regret when you tell him those words. Lando is quick to look up at you, focusing his gaze on you. You feel the well known fluttering in your stomach when he looks at you like that. Fuck. Maybe you should talk to him about that as well?

“Are you serious?” Lando asks you.

You nod. You open up your arms again to hug him.

“As if I can life without you any longer,” you tell him. It’s a bit jokingly, but you’re also honest. Last months were a mess, you can’t function properly without Lando.

“Let’s go to bed,” Lando tells you after a while.

“To bed?” You ask him surprised, “My bed is in a different hotel.”

“Aren’t you staying?” Lando asks, “We always sleep together at race weekends.”

You smile, “Let’s go to bed then.”

thursday - silverstone

“So you weren’t kidding,” Zak remarks, “She’s back.”

“And she stays,” Lando comments harshly.

“I can take her paddock pass away,” Zak goes on.

“I can stop racing for McLaren,” Lando responds without even thinking about it.

“You can’t, you have a contract till 2025,” Zak throws back.

“Say one more bad thing about her and you’ll find out how quick I can leave.”

“As if you would. That could mean the end of your career.”

“Zak, I swear to god don’t push me. She’s here. She will be here every race that she wants to be here and you won’t do shit about that.”

After saying those words Lando walks away from his team boss. He is quick to find you in the paddock. Before he shows you that he’s here, he takes a bit of time to look at you. It’s unfair how beautiful you look. He can’t help himself. Every time he sees you, he’s reminded of the fact he still needs to tell you about his feelings. Maybe he dares this weekend.

“Hey baby,” he greets you while sliding an arm around your shoulders. Together you walk in the paddock. Lando is on his way to the media pannel, after missing it last week, and he will take you with him gladly.

Everything between Lando and you is back at how it was. Sometimes when you think about it, it already feels like you’re in a relationship with each other. You share beds. He’s always giving you cute pet names, like baby or babygirl. The two of you spend all your free time together. it’s not your end goal, but you’re glad with everything you already have.

Together the two of you walk towards the media pannel. You always enjoy watching the interviews.

+++

“So Lando, after your crash from last week we didn’t saw you in the media pannel? Did you have to stay the night after crashing?”

You already expected a lot of questions for Lando since he missed them last week. You’re curious about his reasons. What will he tell them?

“No, I was cleared pretty quick,” Lando tells the interviewer, “but I had some things to do after which were more important.”

“What things?”

You can’t say you’re surprised by the question.

“I just crashed, I had some realizations after. Those things I needed to do, I won’t tell you more about it.”

“What caused your crash?”

“I wasn’t focused,” Lando tells honestly, “So I made a mistake.”

“We saw Y/N in the paddock this morning again after missing her for some months, what happened between you two?”

You gasp. Since when are reporters asking questions like this? This is way too personal. You notice that Lando doesn’t even flinch because of the rude question.

“That’s the more important thing I needed to do. I think you can ask Zak more questions about that later. Maybe we should get back to talking about the upcoming race?” Lando responds.

“One more question for you Lando,” the same reporter speaks up, “Are you dating with Y/N? Do we have a new wag?”

“I don’t think that’s a question about racing,” Lando jokes, “but we’re still really close, just like before.”

You notice the way Lando doesn’t answer the question. Just like he did before. He never says that he is single or taken. He always says that he’s close with you, nothing more or less.

saturday - silverstone

“Oh my god Lan!” You can’t help yourself and scream those words out. “That was amazing!”

Lando pulls you close to himself. He hugs you tightly. He has never gotten quicker out of his car to run towards you. He’s more then happy with himself. Tomorrow he can start from the front row. He almost got the pole position as well. That would have been amazing as well, but still p2 is already amazing.

Lando almost kisses you. When he looks in your eyes and sees the proud look you’re carrying he can barely stop himself from kissing you. Fuck. This is getting out of hand. He needs to tell you soon. He hides his face in your neck.

“You did so well,” you continue, “fucking second place. That’s amazing.”

Lando smiles at your words. He missed this. He missed you. The best part of getting out of the car is always having you there for him. If the race went bad, you always try to comfort him and if it went well you’re here to celebrate with him.

“I’m so proud of you.”

+++

“Congratulations Lando!” The presentator greets him enthusiastic, “That’s an amazing result. How did you experience it?”

“The car was flying,” Lando exclaims happily, “Everything went well. I hope we can keep this up tomorrow and finish somewhere on the podium.”

“So you found back your focus after last week?”

“Yeah,” Lando confesses with a small smile, “I’m fully focused on getting the best results.”

“What changed with last week? Are it the upgrades on the car?”

“Of course we did some major upgrades which really pays off,” Lando says, “but it’s also my own mentality.”

“And what upgrades did that get?”

“My good luck charm got back.”

sunday - silverstone

“So when are you telling her?”

“Telling her what?”

“Don’t act stupid Lando,” Max says, “We both know I’m asking you when you’re going to confess your feelings.”

Lando sighs. “I don’t know,” he says, “I don’t want to cause other drama between us. I just got her back.”

“I don’t think it will end that badly,” Max reacts, “Just tell her mate, I think you’ll be relieved by the end of it.”

+++

The race is getting close to ending. Your heart is beating faster then ever before in your chest. Lando is trying to hold back Lewis Hamilton. Lando his tires are worser. You can only hope for the best. Every move they make you’re gasping. You’re watching from the McLaren garage, you keep on hoping that you will move to the podium in a few laps. You can’t wait to see Lando on the podium again.

“I think we need to talk.”

You almost jump up when you hear those words. You don’t have to look up to know who’s talking to you, but you still do. Of course it’s Zak himself.

“I think so too.”

You decide to keep yourself together. You don’t have to scream at Zak for everything he ruined. You just need to stay calm.

“You’re a distraction for him,” Zak tells you.

You watch how Lewis almost passes Lando. It’s a close one. Lando barely stays in front of him.

“I don’t want you holding him back. I can’t imagine that you’ll want that yourself? Lando is world champion material, but he can’t have distractions around him. He needs to focus on racing,” Zak continues.

You don’t look away from the screen. Lewis is making himself ready to try again. Fuck. You’re praying for Lando to stay in front of him.

“So, what do we need to do to make sure you won’t distract him anymore?” Zak asks you.

“Are you asking me how much money you need to give me for leaving Lando alone?” You ask back. You don’t know if you understood, but according to you it seemed like that was what the man asked you.

“Yes. Or do you want anything else?”

“I want you to fuck off.”

“Oh come on, everyone can be bought.”

You let out an annoyed sigh. Who does this man think he is?

“Listen Zak, I’m not leaving. This trick isn’t working. I’m here for Lando and when he will chose a team that will build him an actual car from day one, I’ll be there for him. If he choses to keep driving for you for the rest of his life, I’ll be here too. I love him.”

“You distract him.”

“Please stop whining in my ear,” Lando’s radio message is coming in quite loudly. “Can’t you get y/n in here?”

“You want y/n?” His engineer asks.

“Yeah. I need to focus. Let her talk to me.”

You laugh right in front of Zak his face while walking towards to board radio. “Such a distraction,” you tell Zak, “but who does he need to focus? Oh me, the distraction.”

“Y/n,” Lando his voice is even harder now you’re wearing the headphones.

“Hi Lan,” you react, “What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t care. Please just talk to me.”

“I think you can hold him off,” you tell Lando.

“You think I can hold off a seven time world champion with these tires? Did you notice he’s on softs?” Lando asks you sarcastic.

“Yeah, that’s what I said. Didn’t I?”

You hear Lando laugh in your ear.

“Come on Lan, just keep fighting. You’re doing great! He can’t push all the way to the finish like this. Just focus.”

“You think I can do this?”

“I know you can.”

You fall silent for a bit while watching Lando block Lewis again. You don’t want to distract him, but you don’t know what to do. What does he want? Do you need to keep talking?

“Keep talking,” Lando begs you.

“Okay,” you say softly. “I can gossip for a bit. You know this girl from my work, yeah? She and that terrible boyfriend finally broke up!”

You keep on talking about silly things that happened to you and your surroundings for a bit. Lando keeps fighting Lewis and he is still driving in front of him.

“I think he’s given up Lan, he doesn’t have DRS anymore.”

“Let’s go out for dinner after the race,” Lando says after a while. He’s almost done. Two more laps to go.

“I think you’ll be busy with celebrating your podium,” you react grinning.

“We’re going out for dinner.”

“Okay,” you reply this time.

“It’s a date.”

A date? What did just happen?

+++

Lando can’t describe everything he’s feeling at the moment. He notices Max standing close to him while he’s still sitting in the McLaren. He can’t believe it actually happened. He finally got a podium this season. It feels insane. First he got you back and now a podium. Finally everything feels right again. He gets out of his car. His only thoughts are going to you. The way you helped him with talking about nonsense over his radio. He never felt this focused before. He fought off Hamilton. That’s amazing. And it’s even more amazing because of the tire disadvantage he had. He walks - or better say runs - towards his team, but he searches for you. Are you also here? Different team members pat his back, his helmet and everything else.

Then he spots you.

Lando walks away from his team members after telling him multiple thanks again. He smiles. Quickly he pulls off his helmet. In the mean time he walks closer to you.

You. The one who’s wearing a piece of his newest merchandise, even though you find the color hideous. He feels proud. He can’t stop thinking about the way you helped him and the way you’re looking at him right now. It feels amazing.

Before Lando knows it, he’s standing in front of you.

“I’m so proud of you!”

The words mean everything to him. He wants to say thanks, but somehow his words get twisted up inside his brain and on his tongue.

“I love you.”

Fuck. Did he really just say that?

Before he can progress what he just did and how he ruined everything again, you’re talking to him.

“Then kiss me.”

Lando has never put his lips faster on someone then now. He pulls you as close as himself as he can manage. Stupid fences in between. Your soft lips are bringing him in some sort of trance. How can everything feel so right with you? He has kissed people before, but it was never like this. This is something else. Something completely new. This is how it must feel when you kiss someone you actually love.

When you pull back Lando his trance ends slowly. He’s still processing everything that just happened. Did you actually tell him to kiss you? What if he heard wrong. He’s almost about to apologize, but you’re speaking again.

“I love you too by the way,” you tell him with a small smile plastered on your face.

Lando lets out a relieved sigh.

This is the best day ever.

“But I think you need to get your trophy now,” you tell him with the same cute smile.

Lando doesn’t know what to say. He turns around to go on with everything that comes with a podium. He turns back one more time and looks at you.

“I love you,” he says again.

You show him another smile and blow him a kiss.

Best day ever, he thinks again.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #ln4 #formula one #f1 #lando norris imagines

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cheegu3 · 5 months

Note

Hii! HAPPY NEW YEAR!🥳💗

Could I please request an Enha mafia reaction where someone drugs your drink

Hope you stay healthy & happy this year💛🧡

hii happy new year, ty, you too sweetheart 🥳🤍🤍 !! <3 & sorry for the late reply I had already fallen asleep before I got this

(ignore how hee & sunoo’s pics don’t match lol)

warnings; yandere/mafia themes, drugging, possessiveness, violence, murder, swearing, overprotectiveness, fighting, misogyny/predatory men, indications of attempted SA

mafia!enha - reaction to someone drugging your drink

Jungwon

He was angry but controlled, knowing that making a scene could have consequences for the future. Silently he managed to keep an eye on you while finishing the business deal in the crowded cubicle he was in; and when he saw your head starting to drop and your eyelids fluttering shut, he told his guards to carry you out to his car.

Calm and composed, he walked out after about an hour of socially drinking with his business partners, so as to not alert the others that something was wrong.

While home Jungwon tucked you in and shushed you when you woke up. With his sharp eyes, he noticed one of the nasty men eying you in the bar, so he knew exactly who it was.

'' Baby you need to be quiet, it's very late, '' he whispered and put a hand over your mouth.

His other hand patted the covers in a soothing manner.

'' Can you do that for me? ''

You nodded, but couldn't help the whine that slipped past your lips when he pulled away and stood up.

'' You're leaving? ''

Something glimmered in his eyes and he smirked. '' I have something to do. But it won't take long. ''

One more time, he came to the bed and kissed your forehead before leaving to take care of the guy. Since he was calculated and precise, he'd never be suspected, and the body? Never to be found.

Heeseung

He was visibly seething and threw the drink into a plant. You barely knew what was going on since you hadn’t caught the guy slipping by your table.

Heeseung took your hand and dragged you home without explaining himself. He shut you into a room, locked it, and set a timer.

With his leg bouncing anxiously he ignored your screams for him to let you out of the room.

When the timer went off he opened it and pulled you into his arms, sighing in relief.

“ What the fuck was that? “ you pulled away from him, eyes shooting daggers.

“ I wasn’t sure if you had already had some. “

“ Some what…alcohol? “

“ A guy drugged your drink. I didn’t see him until after, but my bodyguard did. “

Your mouth fell open, and for a moment you struggled to speak as shock overwhelmed you. Once you regained your consciousness, another question popped into your head.

“ Why did you lock me in though? “

“ I don’t- “ his forehead creased and he almost looked like thinking hurt his head, “ It just seemed the most logical, in case you’d try to leave. “

Sometimes you didn’t understand his reasoning at all. Every decision regarding you seemed to be done purely on paranoia or a ‘ hunch ‘ he couldn’t explain.

“ Now sweetheart, tell me - how do you want me to kill him? “

Jay

He was furious on the inside but it was hard to notice at first glance. It had all happened so quickly; Jay went to the bathroom and during those three minutes, a man had struck up a conversation with you while his friend sprinkled the drug in your glass.

From afar, he could spot the men and immediately grew angry with jealousy. The first thing he did when reaching the table was to grab the man hard by the arm and pull him up on his feet.

He spitefully spat out, '' Fuck you, '' under his breath.

The men's eyes widened when they recognized him and they scurried away. He had quite the reputation on the street. Possessive, crazy, psycho, madly in love - were all things he'd heard people say about him before.

'' Are you okay? ''

You hesitated, scared that he was angry at you too, and would accuse you of cheating on him. Jay picked up on your difficulty in forming words.

'' Did they hurt you? ''

Your tense shoulders relaxed. So he wasn't angry at you.

'' No, I'm okay. ''

You picked up the glass and sipped on it, still feeling a bit shaken up from the incident, but also feeling much better now that your boyfriend relaxed and had given you a warm smile.

After the pair of you had recovered, everyone at the table started talking again. You just sat back quietly while drinking shyly. Not being much of a talker meant you mostly just listened while Jay, who was incredibly charming, talked to anyone and everyone.

It got harder to focus on the conversation. Your head had started spinning and you cursed yourself for having the bad habit of drinking whenever you felt awkward in social settings.

It always lead to you getting drunk way too quickly.

When Jay felt you lean on him because your head was getting heavier and dizzier by the second, he got concerned. It had only been about five minutes since you started sipping on the drink.

He brought out the drink spike tester he forced you to carry around in your handbag just in case, being very grateful for it now.

Immediately it changed color, it was exactly as he had expected, your drink had been spiked. His usual stoic expression would reappear on his face while he processed the situation and tried to come up with a plan.

In the end, he decided to tell his men to ambush the building of another gang, since he recognized one of the men as a part of a rival gang.

They'd do some damage, but nothing too serious. It was well known that the quote ' an eye for an eye ' was held in high regard in the business. However, if he went too far, they'd return for revenge.

While his men left for their mission, Jay took you to a quieter part of the bar, where usually only V.I.P customers were allowed. There he laid your head in his lap and kept a close eye on you.

'' I'm so sorry, '' he mumbled, as guilt had started to take a hold of him.

Jake

Jake had never been that angry before. He was basically shaking with anger and his eyes darted from person to person.

“ Who the fuck was it? “

The bar fell silent. With bated breaths, everyone watched how his eyes zeroed in on an older guy sitting in the far corner. His heavy steps alerted the man that someone was approaching, but he didn't seem too alarmed. A small smile even played on his lips as he looked over his shoulder.

'' Was it you? ''

The man laughed mockingly. '' What? ''

'' Who drugged my girlfriend, you sick fuck! ''

'' If you didn't want her to be taken, you should've guarded her better. She was basically begging to be fucked, sitting there all alone while you paid her no attention, '' he shrugged.

Jake turned towards you. It stung that he had been too late. Your slumped-over form was the first thing he noticed when he went back to your table to give you a new drink.

He hadn't even been on a mission. It was the weekend and he just wanted to take his girlfriend out for some drinks since he'd been busy almost all week and barely seen her.

Clenching his teeth he turned back. Seeing you sleeping so soundly and innocently had convinced Jake. He kept thinking about what that man would do to you if he was alone with you.

So, overcome with emotion he swung his fist and hit the man right in the jaw. He screamed out and jumped back, causing him to fall off the bar stool.

Jake wasted no time in climbing on top of him and started delivering blow after blow, not even stopping after his knuckles were covered in blood.

He knew very well how much you hated when he used violence. Good thing you couldn't see him; that man would not be able to walk once he was done with him.

Sunghoon

You were the one who freaked out the most, not him. In fact, to you, he almost seemed too callous.

In a slow and monotone voice, he asked questions like he was a detective trying to solve a murder. At no point did he show much concern for your worsening state as the drug was causing you to feel sleepiness take over your body.

You sat down when it became very strong. Sunghoon just looked down at you and he ticked his tongue, telling you he was slightly irritated.

'' You didn't tell me who it was. ''

'' Is that really important now? '' you almost shouted.

He took a warning step in your direction to shut you up, which you did. Sometimes he upset you greatly by being too logical. He wasn't the type to comfort someone if they were crying. Instead, he'd want to solve whatever problem was causing them to be sad.

'' Tell me,'' he demanded.

You pointed to your friend group. Sunghoon had only been a few blocks away when you called him to say you thought your drink had been spiked. He came rushing over, cheeks flushed, and went straight to work.

As soon as your eyes met, you knew you didn't really want to tell him. In the past when someone had done something to you, you couldn't help but question if he used some dirty methods.

'' Which one? ''

His eyes scanned your friends. It had been the boyfriend of one of your friends, someone you hadn't met before. You bit on your lip, not wanting to cause any trouble.

'' The man with the hat, '' you quietly said, knowing that Sunghoon wouldn't give up until you told him.

'' Go wait with Heeseung. ''

'' What? Why? ''

'' I'm not gonna deal with your brattiness now. Go. ''

You walked to where you knew Sunghoon and his friends had hung out. The last thing you saw was your boyfriend approaching the group. You had a very bad feeling in your stomach.

Sunoo

He was panicking but tried to put on a strong front for you. His hand stroked the back of your head comfortingly.

'' It's okay. I'm here if you fall asleep. I won't let anyone hurt you. ''

His soft, lulling voice made your body relax and you started to lean against him. When he felt you fall asleep, his anxiety levels doubled.

He had no idea what to do. Should he be calm and try to construct a revenge plan later? Should he do it now? Or should he use an equally violent method to whoever had hurt his darling?

It was the bartender who had drugged your drink so he felt very awkward about confronting him. Instead, he discreetly called the cops and aided them in the investigation by giving statements and proof.

You slept through it all, only waking up when you'd been transported home. Immediately upon opening your eyes, you flinched away from Sunoo who was sitting on the bed watching over you.

It hadn't been long since he kidnapped you after falling in love at first sight while being out one night on a mission. You had never let your guard down around him, so knowing he had been around you as you slept, deeply unsettled you.

'' What did you do to me? You freak! '' you spat out and backed away.

He looked hurt. '' Nothing. I didn't drug you. ''

'' I was...drugged? ''

He nodded carefully and created some space between the two of you. At a loss for words with your brain being confused, he filled in the gaps for you.

'' I watched over you so no one would hurt you. ''

Maybe he wasn't as bad as you thought.

Ni-ki

He quickly made a decision then and there as he was incredibly skilled at coming up with plans on the spot.

After checking on you, he was relieved to find out you hadn't drunk any of it. But that didn't stop him from burning up with rage on the inside.

On the outside, however, he was cool and controlled. Slowly he pieced together a plan and when it was done he went right into it, putting his best actor face on.

'' Did you just touch my girlfriend? '' his voice raised purposefully to catch the attention of the others.

The man looked confused and scared. He stammered as his eyes inspected his opponent.

'' What do you mean? I didn't do anything! ''

People had started whispering. It became impossible for the man to escape the dirty looks that were thrown his way. Knowing he was innocent of what he was accused of, the man grew panicked.

'' No, please! Don't believe him. He's lying. ''

Ni-ki held back the smirk he wanted to show him. He very quickly realized that to get revenge and ruin the man's reputation, he needed something stronger. Saying he drugged your drink when there was no proof and you hadn't even drunk it wasn't very smart.

You sat in the middle of the room, feeling like you were under a spotlight, even if no one paid any attention. Just like you, their eyes were glued to the two men.

Your face began to mirror the man's - horror, as it finally settled in what he was trying to do, and even more so at the fact that it was working.

People were getting louder, someone pressed a phone to their ear to presumably get help. But, most notably, the man had so quickly been seen as a virus. No one wanted to go close to him.

Satisfied, Ni-ki managed to slip out unnoticed and he pulled you up on your feet.

'' Didn't I do well, baby? '' he boasted devilishly.

#yandere kpop #kpop yandere #yandere enhypen #yandere enha #enha x reader #enha mafia #enhypen mafia #kpop mafia

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just-aake · 8 months

Text

Boundless Devotion - Part VII

Pairing: princess!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: MedievalAU. Natasha is the eldest princess of the Romanov Kingdom. As the time of her coronation approaches, she is suddenly forced to make a decision – either find herself a partner or her parents will choose one for her.

Warnings: slight fluff

Words: 5310

In the days following that night, Natasha has been spending more time with you, just like before. The two of you work together and continue your search for a solution to break the mind control's hold on you.

Her mother had only been involved in the early stages of the original Black Widow operations, so she was unfamiliar with the specifics of the process that further developed this version of mind control.

She suggested to Natasha that the person who may be able to provide more information about the subject would be your father.

When Natasha shared this with you, you fell silent for the rest of that day. Seeing how the suggestion upset you, she decided not to bring it up again.

As the date of the festival approached, Natasha found herself increasingly busy with overseeing most of the preparations, a task assigned to her by her mother.

Consequently, this left her with little time to see you.

The castle's staff quickly noticed how this affected their princess's mood.

On days when she couldn't see you at all, Natasha became upset and sullen, often sighing deeply throughout the day as she completed her tasks.

For some unknown reason, on those days, Natasha felt like she missed you even more than during the past year when you had avoided her.

However, with the festival finally here, she was excited to spend time with you again.

In her personal study, Natasha is currently reviewing potential leads to discuss with you later when a knock on her door interrupts her. She invites the unexpected visitor in, and when she sees who it is, she raises a brow in surprise.

"Shouldn't you already be at the festival with your children?" she asks.

Clint chuckles and nods at her question.

"I was going to head over right after this."

His voice drops into a more serious tone.

"Do you have some time to talk for a bit?"

At that, Natasha places the documents down on her desk and gives him her full attention, gesturing for him to continue.

“There have been some cases of guards and soldiers disappearing within the kingdom,” Clint reveals.

“Why hasn’t anyone informed me about this?” Natasha asks, frowning in confusion that this is the first she’s hearing about such incidents.

Clint offers a shrug as he explains.

“Well, those missing typically reappear after a couple of days, so there hasn't been much cause for alarm. Most of the higher-ranking soldiers assume that they must have celebrated a bit too hard and got lost on their way back.”

Natasha frowns deepens hearing the careless handling of such a suspicious situation.

"But that's not the strange part," Clint continues with an unsure expression. "When they return, they have no recollection of what happened to them or where they've been."

Natasha crosses her arms in thought before glancing down at her notes on the Black Widow operations.

It’s a bit unnerving how this new information lines up with how the operations usually went in the past, that period marked by disappearances and memory loss from the victims.

Is it possible that it’s just a coincidence?

Clint clears his throat to regain her attention before continuing, "I've also found the information that you requested about the man involved in the attack at the cemetery."

With how intent the stranger was on hurting you, Natasha decided to investigate further about the man to figure out his motives and plans that day and prevent anything like that from happening to you again.

“So who is he?”

“As Lady Y/N said, he used to be a soldier in Stark's army during the war and was the one responsible for the murder of Lord Dreykov's wife. Not only that, apparently he's guilty of other crimes as well — such as the slaughter of his entire squad on a mission and even the murder of his wife and children. He's been marked as a criminal and has been on the run ever since.”

Natasha shakes her head, puzzled at the information.

“So why risk coming back and revealing himself now?”

“Unfortunately, the guards at the dungeon say he’s refusing to answer any questions unless…” Clint trails off, hesitating to speak the next words.

“Unless what?” Natasha presses suspiciously with a furrowed brow, already sensing she won't like what he's about to say.

“...unless he gets to speak to Lady Y/n.”

"No," Natasha immediately objects, her tone unwavering.

She won't allow him anywhere near you again.

"Absolutely not," she adds, giving Clint a stern look, leaving no room for discussion.

"Understood," Clint acknowledges in understanding. "I'll see if they can find another way to get him to talk."

Natasha gives him a grateful nod before asking, "Was there anything else?"

"One last thing," Clint says with a small smirk. "The queen sent someone to tell you that you were supposed to meet with her at the festival already to discuss your responsibilities for the day."

Natasha curses softly under her breath, realizing she was so absorbed in her research that she had forgotten about her prior commitments with her mother.

After a quick horse ride into town, Natasha finds herself at the entrance of the royal tent, her arms crossed and foot tapping impatiently as her mother outlines her duties for the day.

“—then I'll need you to return here in a few hours to greet the nobles arriving from the other kingdoms. After that, there’s the jousting tournament…”

Glancing to the side, Natasha's attention drifts away from her mother’s voice when she spots you in her vision, strolling alongside Wanda and Pietro.

She can’t help but smile fondly as she sees you laughing at one of Pietro's failed attempts at a game booth.

“Then there’s the—,” Melina stops mid-sentence, realizing Natasha is no longer paying attention.

She follows her daughter's gaze and notices that it is you who has captured her focus.

With a knowing sigh, Melina dismisses her next words with a shake of her head.

“Never mind, I’ll just have your father handle most of this, but at least come and greet the members of the other kingdoms when they arrive.”

When Natasha doesn’t respond, Melina waves her hand in front of her daughter’s face.

“Are you listening, Natasha?”

“Yeah, okay, meeting later, I’ll be there,” Natasha acknowledges her mother's words distractedly, her gaze still fixed on you.

Melina sighs in exasperation and departs to find her husband, leaving Natasha alone, completely absorbed in watching you.

You look good, she admits, your expression lighter and happier than before.

Natasha has always known you were beautiful, but with the sun shining, you seem to glow even more under its rays.

A sudden shove against her side draws her attention away from you, and she turns to look at the culprit beside her.

“You’re staring,” Yelena points out before casually tossing a piece of popcorn into her mouth.

“What?” Natasha frowns at the accusation. “No, I’m not.”

“Yes, you were,” Yelena rolls her eyes at her sister’s denial, “I’ve been standing next to you for a couple of minutes already, and you didn’t even notice.”

Letting out a huff of disbelief, Natasha decides to change the subject.

“Was there something that you needed, Yelena?”

“Nope, but if all you're going to do is stand here the entire day, then I’ll just go over and hang out with Y/n instead.”

Yelena moves towards you, but Natasha grabs the back of her collar and pulls her back, preventing her from going any further.

“Don’t you need to go find your other half?” Natasha remarks.

Yelena, still hanging by Natasha's grip, appears unbothered as she continues eating her snack. She shrugs in response to Natasha's question.

“Kate’s busy preparing for the archery competition.”

“Then maybe you should follow her example and prepare for your own competition,” Natasha lectures her.

Yelena groans, “God, you sound like mom.”

Natasha quickly lets go of her grip at that statement and rolls her eyes before turning to look at you again.

Beside her, Yelena adjusts her collar back into place and then glances between her sister and you in the distance curiously.

“So are the two of you still pretending to be a couple?”

Natasha glances at her before nodding in response.

“Of course, mom’s been off my back ever since we started. Meanwhile, Y/n can have the time she needs to find a partner for herself without having Lord Rumlow breathing down her neck. Everybody wins.”

Yelena blinks at Natasha in disbelief for a moment before exclaiming, “Oh wow, you’re serious.”

“What?” Natasha asks, giving her a perplexed expression.

“Nothing, it's just...I guess I've underestimated how clueless you are when it comes to romance.”

Yelena rubs her chin, whispering to herself under her breath, “I really thought you would’ve realized by now.”

“Realize what?” Natasha presses, slightly annoyed at her comments.

With a teasing smirk, Yelena makes a zipping gesture across her lips.

“I can’t say. That would be cheating.”

Rolling her eyes at her antics, Natasha pushes her sister away in another direction.

“Go bother Kate.”

“All I’m saying is you should take some time to reexamine your relationship with Y/n before it's too late," Yelena urges before walking away with a nonchalant wave goodbye.

Squinting at Yelena in confusion, Natasha shakes her head, dismissing her sister's warning.

There’s nothing wrong with her relationship with you, at least not anymore now that you and she have cleared things up.

Her friendship with you is still as strong as before.

Turning around, Natasha is about to make her way over to you but is stopped by a lady she recognizes as the daughter of one of the other noble houses.

“Princess Natasha, would you like some company this afternoon?”

Natasha gives her a tight but polite smile at her offer before refusing.

“Oh, uh, no, thank you but—.“

Another lady appears, presenting a plate of baked treats at her, blocking her path.

“Would you like to try some of these pastries, princess? They’re freshly baked.”

“I’m good, thanks,” Natasha responds politely.

She attempts to maneuver around the ladies, but more and more people begin to notice her presence and gather around her.

Soon, she finds herself quickly encircled by a crowd of ladies, their voices merging into a cacophony of compliments and inquiries directed at her.

Natasha tries to look in your direction, but to her frustration, she can't even see you anymore through the crowd that's formed around her.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, over where you were at, Pietro groans in disappointment when the ball rolls out of the target, signaling his loss once more.

“Pietro, you’re going to lose all of your money at this rate,” Wanda remarks.

“Like you can do better,” he counters.

Wanda grins confidently at the challenge and hands a coin to the vendor for another round. She tosses the ball at the target, and it spins on the rim a couple of times.

Just as it was about to fall out, the ball suddenly tipped into the goal.

The vendor claps in amazement and hands Wanda one of the prizes.

You pull her away quickly.

“Wanda!” you whisper with a chastising tone. “You shouldn’t be using your power like that.”

"What? I'm getting a lot better with them, and nobody even noticed," Wanda reassures you.

Pietro hums beside you in thought.

“Hey, do you think you can do the same to win any of the other games?”

“Pietro!” You turn your reprimanding tone toward the other twin.

He raises his hands defensively, exclaiming with a nervous chuckle, “I was kidding!”

He turns his head to the side, seeing another game booth before muttering under his breath in thought, “Sort of kidding.”

When he sees you are about to continue your reprimanding, he points at another booth.

“Oh look, they are selling pies! I’ll go get us some slices!”

Pietro runs off quickly before you can stop him.

You shake your head at him, letting out an exasperated huff.

Loud chatter rises in the distance, catching your attention, and you hear faint chants of the princess' name.

You turn with an excited smile, expecting to see Natasha.

However, your smile drops slightly into a bittersweet line when you see the scene in front of you.

A feeling of disappointment creeps into your heart.

You had hoped to spend some time with Natasha today at the festival, having grown accustomed to all of her attention and time spent with you recently that you forgot how public events like these usually went.

Natasha always ends up being surrounded by people who adore her.

Beside you, Wanda notices your sad expression, and when she looks at the cause of your shift in mood, she nods in understanding.

She pulls on your arm to get your attention.

“You know, you are technically her partner. You can go over there and be with her.”

You consider the option of taking advantage of your fake relationship with Natasha to be by her side before shaking your head lightly.

“No, it’s fine. I don’t want to interrupt anything.”

Wanda frowns at your refusal before asking, “How are things going between you and the princess anyway?”

“Good, I guess,” you answer, tilting your head in thought. “Last time, we found some old notes on the initial trials of the operations. That might give us some new ideas.”

Wanda deflates when she realizes that you were only talking about the research you did together. She crosses her arms and sighs exasperatedly in disappointment.

“I could’ve sworn something more was going to happen between you two, especially since I found the both of you in bed together that morning.”

You quickly cover her mouth and look around to see if anyone had overheard her comment.

“Sleeping, Wanda,” you stress with a small blush on your face. ”We were just sleeping. Nothing happened.”

You remember how you had woken up that following morning, surprised to find Natasha's sleeping face beside you. Her arm was wrapped around you protectively as she slept, securing you in place. Not wanting to wake her, you decided to go back to sleep.

Later, you were awakened again. This time by the sound of Wanda clearing her throat with a message from Queen Melina looking for Natasha for their usual morning meeting.

Natasha had rushed out after hearing that, with a quick goodbye and a promise to meet up later.

You had given Wanda a sharp warning glare before she could make any teasing comment about the situation.

Thankfully, she didn’t bring it up again.

Until now.

Wanda places her hands on her hips, frowning at you.

“Do you like Princess Natasha?” she asks plainly.

You look away from her accusing stare and wave your hand casually.

“Of course, who doesn’t?”

Wanda pokes you in the shoulder, annoyed at your response.

“No, not as a friend or as the princess, I mean, do you like her?”

You feel your face heat up at the question, and your heart beats faster at the thought of being more than friends with Natasha.

“I—it’s not like that, Wanda. There’s nothing going on between Natasha and me.”

Undeterred by your denial, Wanda presses on with a meaningful tone, “But do you want there to be?”

At her question, you look at Natasha, and that warm feeling from before immediately fills your chest again.

Over the past couple of days, you’ve already realized what that feeling you’ve been having around the princess means, and your expression twists down dejectedly at the reminder.

“You know I can’t, Wanda,” you say sadly.

“Why not?” she presses.

“Because…” you pause, closing your eyes briefly in frustration. “Because we’re friends, and we just repaired that relationship. I'm not going to ruin it over some little feelings.”

Wanda furrows her brows at your response, “That’s not fair. You never go after what you want.”

She gestures to the crowd of people surrounding Natasha, all of them trying to get her attention.

“You have a better chance of actually being with her than any of those ladies,” Wanda points out confidently.

“That’s not true,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief. “Natasha can have anybody she wants. Everybody loves her. She’s kind, smart, brave—”

“I’m sure the same can be said about me, Lady Y/n,” a grating voice interrupts you.

You grimace, a silent sigh escaping your lips at the sound of the insufferable noble. Turning around, you give him a tight expression.

“Lord Rumlow, what a surprise,” you say sarcastically.

Next to you, Wanda doesn’t bother hiding her disgust at the presence of the noble, already familiar with his persistent advances toward you.

Deciding to try and get this conversation over with quickly, you ask, “Was there something you needed?”

His eyes roam over you shamelessly in a way that makes you feel thoroughly repulsed before finally speaking with a smug smirk.

“Well, seeing how Princess Natasha won’t be participating in the tournament later, I thought I'd let you know that I would be honored to receive a token of your support for me,” he says, his tone filled with false humility.

Before you can respond, Wanda scoff beside you, muttering in disbelief, "Unbelievable."

Rumlow's eyes narrow as he focuses his attention on her.

“What did you just say?” he asks with a warning in his voice.

Unbothered, Wanda meets his gaze defiantly and continues, “You've got some nerve, requesting a favor from a lady who has already rejected you. Multiple times too.”

“Why you little…“

His face twists in anger as he raises his hand to strike her, but you swiftly step in front of Wanda, catching his wrist in a firm grip before you address him.

“Lord Rumlow,” you say, your voice is calm but with a clear, warning undertone, “she is someone very important to me. So, I strongly suggest you reconsider your next action before you do something that would greatly upset me."

He pulls his hand away from your grip and points towards Wanda with a sneer.

"That girl should know better than to address me that way."

“Then allow me to instead,” you interject firmly, silencing him.

“Wanda is right. You are truly unbelievable. For some reason, you can’t seem to comprehend that I have absolutely no interest in you whatsoever. And you are arrogant to think that I would give you any favor, given my relationship with Princess Natasha.”

He scoffs, his face reddening with anger and embarrassment as some people stop to listen and watch the interaction.

“The only reason you chose her over me is because of her status. If she weren’t the princess—”

“I would still choose her,” you state firmly.

He sputters in disbelief, “But—”

You raise your hand in a silencing gesture, giving him a harsh glare.

“Understand this, Lord Rumlow, even if she wasn't the princess, even if she were just an ordinary person in the kingdom with no title, I would always choose her over you, every single time.”

Rumlow gapes at you, too stunned to respond.

Crossing your arms, you lean in slightly and lower your voice in a threatening manner.

“Now, I believe you should find somewhere else to enjoy the festival and leave me and those I care about alone, unless you want me to continue to humiliate you further.”

Rumlow’s eyes dart around at the now small crowd of onlookers, who are blatantly watching the confrontation with interest.

With a disgruntled sneer, he turns and stomps away, but he only manages to go a short distance before stumbling.

Right into a plate of pie.

In front of him, Pietro gasps exaggeratedly, in a way that is too dramatic to be real, when the pastries that he was holding are smeared all over the lord.

He quickly apologizes to Lord Rumlow before hurrying over to you and Wanda, barely concealing his smirk as he discreetly high-fives his sister.

Rumlow curses loudly in anger at the mess on him before scurrying away from the laughter of the nearby people.

You're almost certain you saw the familiar red mist disappearing from his shoe when he stumbled.

Turning your attention to Wanda and Pietro, you shoot them a suspicious look.

However, they both maintain innocent expressions while also avoiding your gaze.

You attempt to maintain your reprimanding demeanor, but even you can't stifle the laughter bubbling up within you, and soon, the three of you are sharing a hearty laugh at the absurd situation.

After a moment, Pietro lets out a contented sigh.

“That was the most fun I’ve had in a while.”

You nod in agreement. It was the kind of story that you know Natasha would enjoy hearing about.

However, when you look back at her, your smile fades, replaced by disappointment at the reminder of how she is still surrounded by her admirers.

Pietro notices your expression and leans in to whisper to his sister, “What's up with her?”

Wanda responds with an exasperated sigh.

“Y/n wants to spend time with the princess and is upset that she’s surrounded by other women.”

“Wanda!”

Unbothered by your exclamation, Wanda shrugs.

“It's true.”

Pietro glances over at the crowd and then back to his sister with a mischievous smirk.

“Hmm, Wanda, are you thinking what I'm thinking?”

Wanda matches his expression with a sneaky look of her own.

“I'll handle the distraction,” she announces.

“Then I'll run in and grab the princess,” Pietro declares.

The twins nod at each other in agreement.

When you realize what they mean to do, you try to stop them.

“Wait, you two, don't—”

But it's too late.

They have already left your side, heading toward the crowd.

Natasha gives a tight smile as yet another person tries to engage her in conversation. She's been trying to excuse herself for a while now, but the amount of people around her just keeps growing.

Suddenly, dozens of kites seamlessly drift through the crowd, capturing everyone's attention.

They then shoot up high into the sky causing the onlookers to look up in awe, entranced by the spectacle of colorful kites twirling in the sky.

Natasha, however, observes the kites with suspicion.

Something about their movements seems unnatural, especially since there's barely a gust of wind in the air.

Before she can contemplate it further, a hand grabs her wrist and swiftly pulls her through the crowd.

Unable to see who’s holding her, she's about to break free when she's thrown forward out of the crowd and into someone’s arms.

You catch her in surprise, providing support as the princess regains her balance.

When Natasha pulls back and sees you, a charming smile appears on her face.

“Hey, you,” she breathes out in greeting.

You bite your lip to contain your smile.

“Hi,” you reply, and for a moment, the two of you simply gaze at each other.

The sound of a high-five grabs your attention, and you turn to see the twins returning to your side, both wearing satisfied expressions.

“I think that went well,” Pietro comments, fixing his slightly disheveled hair from the hurried run.

In response to his words, Natasha looks at you curiously in realization.

“I guess I should be thanking the three of you for the rescue then.”

You laugh lightly in amusement as you raise a disbelieving brow at her.

“Oh, so being surrounded by women fawning over you now qualifies as a situation that requires saving?”

“Careful, Y/n, that almost sounded like you were jealous,” Natasha teases with a smirk.

Rolling your eyes, you huff in disbelief before gently pushing her away from your arms, allowing her to stand on her own.

“Please, if I got jealous every time someone wanted your affection, I'd be jealous my entire life,” you counter.

“Well, thank you anyway,” Natasha chuckles before giving you a soft look. “So it looks like my schedule cleared up. Is it okay if I join you three around the festival?”

“That’s fine—“ you start.

“Actually,” Pietro raises his hand to interrupt. ”I have a date, so I have to go.”

You give him a suspicious look, but he just winks at you before dashing off.

Wanda starts to back away as well.

“And I think I’ll check out the fortune teller. Have my future read and all that.”

You catch Wanda’s hand before she can escape, whispering to her accusingly, already aware of her intentions.

“You don’t even believe in that stuff.”

“Well, I do now,” Wanda whispers back, slipping her hand from your grip before looking pointedly at the princess, who is waiting patiently a short distance away. “Maybe they’ll tell me when you’ll finally decide to act on your feelings.”

She turns and leaves quickly with a wave goodbye, exclaiming. “Have fun, you two!”

Your mouth hangs open in disbelief as Natasha steps up next to you.

“So, I guess it’s just you and me,” she says before adding, “This could be like our second date in public.”

Recovering your composure, you cross your arms and look away from her as if considering her offer, humming teasingly, “I don’t know, I wouldn't want to deprive you of the chance to be with all of your admirers.”

Natasha bumps your shoulders playfully before a small smirk appears on her lips.

“You know, jealousy looks cute on you,” she comments, before taking your hand and bringing it up to her lips for a soft kiss. “But, to be honest, I’d rather spend my time with you.”

Your heart quickens slightly at her flirty statement, and you feel your words catch in your throat, too stunned to respond.

Sounds of coos and awes surround the two of you, snapping you out of your flustered state and reminding you of your supposed relationship with the princess in the eyes of the people of the kingdom.

Even though you know Natasha is doing all of this to keep up appearances, you still can’t help but blush in response.

You just hope Natasha doesn’t realize how real your reaction is to her actions and words.

Looking back at her, Natasha gives you a fond smirk before tilting her head in question.

“So what do you say, Lady Y/n, would you like to join me on another date?”

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Natasha watches you with a soft smile as you admire the performers on stage, completely entranced by the show.

She had initially focused on the performance as well, but when she glanced over to see your reaction, she found herself distracted and unable to return her attention to the stage, becoming more interested in watching you.

Natasha finally tears her gaze away when the performance ends, and she joins you and the crowd in clapping.

As she finishes, her hand naturally finds yours, and she intertwines them again.

It's strange — she's never noticed before how perfectly your hand fits in hers.

As the crowd disperses around you, you turn to look at her in question.

“Your turn, what do you want to do next?”

At your question, Natasha surveys the surrounding festivities before nodding toward a game booth where participants are throwing darts to pop the balloon targets.

“How about a friendly competition? Whoever gets more points wins,” she suggests.

You glance at the game she's referring to and nod in agreement before pulling her toward the booth.

“Sure, it’s been a while since the last time I beat you at a game,” you tease her.

Natasha follows behind you and lets out a laugh of disbelief.

“That last time was a tie, and you know it.”

You glance over your shoulder at her with a small smirk.

“Whatever you say, princess.”

Arriving at the booth, Natasha hands the vendor some coins for a round for each of you, and he places ten darts on the tabletop, five for each person.

Natasha picks up the first dart and smoothly throws it at the targets, popping a balloon. She gives you a confident smirk before stepping back with a dramatic gesture for your turn.

You roll your eyes fondly and take your position, aiming carefully before throwing your dart and popping a balloon.

The two of you continue with each of you popping a balloon during your respective turns until only one dart remains for each.

“How about a little wager?” Natasha suggests before you take your final shot.

“So much for just a friendly competition,” you say, laughing lightly. “Alright, what are you proposing?”

“If I win,” Natasha pauses with an amused smirk, “You let me teach you how to fight with a sword one day next week.”

You laugh lightly in amusement at the reminder of your promise and nod in agreement.

“And if I win?”

“I’ll do whatever you want.”

“That’s not really something a soon-to-be ruler should be promising,” you tease her as you line up your shot.

With a careful throw, your dart hits the center of a balloon, giving you a perfect score.

You raise a brow challengingly at her while Natasha nods approvingly at your shot, unworried.

When Natasha picks up her dart, you speak up in question.

“What about if we tie?”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Natasha says, smiling confidently and turning away from the targets to look at you.

She holds your stare even as she throws the dart.

Neither of you look at where it lands, but the unmistakable popping sound of two balloons signals the winner.

You accept your loss with a small teasing smile.

“You could have just invited me. I would’ve agreed to come anyway.”

“Yeah, but this way was more fun.”

You hum in agreement as you absently trace a pattern against the wooden booth.

Wanting to make sure everything is okay, Natasha takes your hand, stopping your movement as her thumb softly caresses the back of your hand.

She tilts her head at you in question, “We don’t have to train if you don’t want to.”

“No, I want to,” you say reassuringly, giving her a small smile. “Besides, you've been stuck with me in the library the last few times we were together. It's only fair if we do something you would enjoy.”

Frowning at your dismissal of the joys of being in your presence, Natasha pulls you closer, holding both of your hands in hers to ensure you focus on her words.

“Hey, I enjoy doing anything with you,” she insists.

When a smile appears on your face at her words, Natasha feels her heart warm with that strange feeling again at the sight.

She's not sure if it's because it's been a couple of days since she last saw you, but to her, you look really stunning with that happy expression.

Without thinking, she feels herself unconsciously lean in closer to you.

"Y/n!" a familiar voice calls out, bursting the peaceful bubble between you two.

You both turn to the source of the shout.

Before Natasha can react, you are swept away from her in a twirling hug, lifting you slightly off the ground as you let out a surprised yelp.

The blonde-haired newcomer smiles widely as she steadies you back on your feet in front of her.

"I was hoping to see you soon!" she exclaims.

You laugh lightly, regaining your balance and leaning slightly on her arms for support as you return the friendly greeting.

"It's so good to see you too. I haven't seen you in a couple of years with all your traveling."

The person finally turns to Natasha with a casual smirk and nods in greeting.

"It has been a while since we were all together, hasn't it, Natasha?"

Natasha hides her displeased feelings at how you were taken away from her side and responds politely.

"Yeah, it has."

She eyes the hands still clasping yours, her teeth clenching slightly.

"How have you been, Princess Carol?"

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

Series Masterlist : Boundless Devotion

a/n: Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @lightwhoranoutoflight, @taliiiaasteria, @romanoffprentiss, @canvascoloredin, @silentwolfsstuff, @blacklightsposts, @arcturusseer, @presser24, @dvrkhcld, @jujuu23, @screechcat, @vivs46, @cd-4848, @youneversawmehereooooooo, @pancakefan7529, @confusedspaceotter, @natbelovasblog, @izzy-b09, @iamheartless, @mrsrushman

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff

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oliversrarebooks · 6 months

Text

The Rare Bookseller Part 33: Alexander's Feeding

Masterlist

September 1925

TW: Captivity, mind control, blood drinking

His Master was staring him down with a look of haunted bliss, the way a starving man might regard a luxurious dinner spread, and Oliver realized that he still wasn't quite prepared for it. Even when he was being fawned over by vampires as a piece of merchandise, he hadn't felt quite so much like prey as he did right now.

"Oliver," Alexander said, visibly trying to regain his composure. "There... there you are. In my library."

"Yes, Master," he said simply, the awkwardness permeating though the fog in his mind.

"Very good, very good... I trust you slept well?"

"Yes, very much so, Master."

"Why don't I..." He cleared his throat loudly. "I need to be more awake for this. Would you like some coffee? I'll show you how I make it."

"Yes, sir," Oliver agreed easily, wondering if the "this" that his Master needed to be awake for was what he thought it might be.

He followed his Master into the kitchen, lighting one of the gas lamps along the way. Alexander opened a cupboard and pulled out a small but delicate French vacuum pot, a hand-cranked grinder, and a cheerful red tin canister. He opened the canister and smelled the contents, inviting Oliver over. The scent nearly knocked him off his feet, much stronger than the milder coffee he favored.

"I prefer my coffee beans rich. My taste has diminished since... Well, I'm better off than many vampires in that regard," he said casually, pouring a generous amount of beans into the grinder. "Here, put this water on the stove to boil."

The domesticity of the coffee making process was an odd contrast to the intensity of the moment in the library, but not so much that Oliver could put it out of mind. It didn't help that Alexander was gazing longingly at his neck whenever he thought Oliver wasn't looking. Perhaps even when he was well aware Oliver was looking.

"I don't intend to impose much in the way of tasks on you," his Master explained. "But I certainly wouldn't mind if you were to prepare a pot of coffee for me around sundown."

"Yes, sir," said Oliver, flooded with obedient contentment at the thought of having such a straightforward way to please his new Master.

Before long, two perfect, steaming hot mugs of strong coffee had been procured, and they retired once more to the library. "Feel free to continue on with what you were doing before," said Alexander, waving Oliver off. "I'll call upon you shortly, if that's acceptable for you."

Of course it was. Oliver was in no position to refuse, and all of his former resistance was no more than the dimmest of sparks. "More than acceptable, Master."

The books held such fascination for him only an hour before, but now he felt as though he couldn't focus on any of them, the titles sliding from his mind as soon as he'd read them. He could barely even taste the rich, delicious coffee. All he could think about was his Master's gaze upon him, what his teeth would feel like grazing his neck, how it would feel to finally succumb.

He was so lost in his reverie that he barely noticed when Alexander, reclined in a soft leather loveseat, began to sing gently under his breath.

Oliver's breath hitched with the realization that this was it, just before he was awash in a sea of calm relaxation. Alexander's sharp fangs glistened in the flickering gas lamp as he smiled at Oliver and beckoned him closer. Oliver took a few clumsy steps towards him, the intense vampiric aura stealing away what remained of his thoughts.

His Master's hunger weighed heavily upon him, and his hand reached up, slipping his frock off his shoulder and exposing his neck. His Master needed to feed, and Oliver would provide, and he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so sure of himself. He knew exactly what he needed to do, where he needed to be, sitting down next to his Master as docile as a lamb.

Oliver looked deep into his Master's eyes as he drew closer, realizing that his Master looked almost as spellbound as Oliver felt. He could feel his Master's desire through the vampiric aura, pulling him closer, drowning every thought from his mind but the feeding. In that moment, it seemed as if he had been put on the green Earth solely for this, to provide for this beautiful vampire.

Alexander took Oliver's chin and tilted his head further to the side, cold breath on his ear as he whispered into it. "Fall under my spell," he said. "Feel no pain. Only pleasure when I drink from you, Oliver."

"Only pleasure... yes, Master..."

Sharp teeth grazed his neck just long enough for Oliver's breath to hitch before twin pinpricks pierced his skin, and then...

Bliss.

He gasped as endorphins flooded his system, turning what remained of his mind to mush. His Master's lips were on his neck, drinking from the small wounds, and even after all of his conditioning, he couldn't imagine it would feel so good.

Why had he ever resisted this? Why had he ever feared? This was everything he'd ever wanted: purpose, pleasure, and serenity all wrapped together. His head slumped against his Master, and he felt unexpectedly safe and cared for, secure in the knowledge that he was providing well, and that his Master would not hurt him.

And then, there was another sensation, one more foreign to him, but no less welcome. It was the feeling of hunger giving way, of finally being sated after an age of starvation, a dying man restored. Through the fog of blood loss and bliss, he understood what it was: his Master's thoughts, shared through a connection bound in blood. Through that connection, Oliver could tell how much he was truly appreciated, deepening his contentment even as he began to feel drowsy from blood loss and the vampiric spell.

Alexander gently kissed the wounds closed, finishing his meal, and ran his fingers through the hair on the back of Oliver's head. "You're all right, Oliver," he said, and it wasn't a command but an observation.

"That was..." Oliver trailed off, not having the words to even begin to describe what that was like.

"Mmm," said his Master, and Oliver could hear the smile in his voice. He could feel strength. He'd made his Master stronger. He'd done well.

"I think... I think I'd like to celebrate a little, after that," said Alexander after a moment. "Would you be willing to accompany me to the music room? It's been so long since I've played."

In his half-asleep daze, Oliver nodded. "Yes, Master."

He was being scooped up in strong arms and held to his Master's chest as they walked out of the library and into the exquisite music room. Oliver was laid out on a velvet couch, a pillow tucked behind his head, as Alexander surveyed the room like a king looking over his adoring subjects. He looked healthier, Oliver realized. His skin was less pallid, his eyes more awake.

After pondering his options, Alexander sat at the piano and began to play. Oliver didn't know much about music, but it sounded like an old classical tune, the kind you might hear at a symphony hall. His Master played expertly, hands flying over the keys, and the song had an air of joy about it.

Through the remnants of the connection, Oliver could sense how the smooth ivories felt under his fingers, follow the rhythm and weave of the music. His eyelids drooped despite himself; he was drowsy enough to desire sleep, but he didn't want this moment to end.

As he skimmed the surface of dreams, floating in and out of awareness, he felt himself getting lost in a memory. Another man lying on this couch, content after a feeding, as Alexander played for him. Fingers strumming a guitar, playing a sprightly tune as Lex looked on in appreciation.

Nimble feet danced across the wooden floor. Lex was holding a young man with golden hair and smiling eyes. He laughed when Lex clumsily stepped on his foot.

"Really, Lex?" said the man with a smirk. "I thought a vampire might be better at this. How long have you had to practice?"

"I haven't exactly had many people to practice with, you know," said Lex.

"Good thing I'm here. What would you even do without me?"

"Not dance, that's for certain."

A deep kiss. A deep longing. Loss. Fear. Regret.

Lose -- don't want to lose --

Oliver stirred in his sleep, the beautiful dream turning to a nightmare.

"It's okay, Oliver," said his Master's deep voice. "I didn't mean for you to see that. Put it out of your mind."

He felt his contentment returning to him as his Master's arms picked him up once again, carrying him out of the room and up the stairs, placing him in his comfortable bed and pulling up warm blankets.

"Pleasant dreams, Oliver," said his Master.

"You... too..." said Oliver. He felt safe. He felt fulfilled. He curled up in the luxurious bed and began to drift.

Part 32 >> Masterlist >> Part 34

Thank you for reading this story of a delectable treat for vampires.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king

#whump #whump writing #vampire #mind control #blood drinking #whumpee #vampire whumper #rare bookseller #alexander #oliver

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ellzilla · 2 months

Text

Laughing Jack Headcanons!

I have so many things about this rewritten clown in my brain n' I don't think I've ever like Listed ALL the headcanons in one spot? individual posts but never a hoard of them, soo. Here's all on my mind rn but i've probably forgotten some! - He can't feel pain or temperature and struggles with texture. The best way to explain it is imagine wearing super thick work gloves all the time and trying to touch a cactus and then a fur pillow, only difference you're gonna feel is that you can push into the pillow. - He also can't sleep or smell, but he still yawns when he's exhausted and sneezes when there's visibly a lot of dust or whatever in the air. -Also he can't eat food or taste. If he tries, he'll throw it up along with black sludge after an hour or so. He can drink and feel the effects of alcohol, but it makes him fucking reek because he doesn't have any organs and it just kinda absorbs into his stuffing. - He's a huge kleptomaniac! He has entire tents in his carnival dedicated to shit he's stolen from people he's killed, but he keeps his favourite items in his trailer. -His skin is a combination of plastic and rubber, despite initially being made with fabric. There's a few parts on his body where left over seems are still visible. -The only part of his body that's white is his head and most of his torso, the rest has been stained black with a faint branch pattern connecting the colours together. -His makeup isn't makeup, it's just how he looks! And he hates it! -If he wears coloured clothes they'll eventually turn monochrome and won't regain colour. -Huge egomaniac! Part of his kelptomania fuels this as he hoards things that are rare/thought to not exist anymore -Only thing close to a friend he's ever had is his relationship with Zalgo and Will. -Doesn't remember how he came to be or why he loves violence. He sometimes dwells on it but not for too long or else he gets upset. -Holy items can tranquilize him/subdue him on prolonged physical and can send him into a state akin to sleep but with none of the benefits. Having a holy item nearby simply makes him mildly less agitated and a lot more tired. -He can turn into smoke and do mild shapeshifting, mainly changing sizes or stretching things by an impossible amount. -Extremely quick to anger -Loses track of the year a lot -Has no clue why he has such a familial bond with Will and struggles with it as all he's done for hundreds of years is be either an asshole or kill people, so his nice gestures and affection sometimes comes with implied threats

-Extremely overprotective and controlling of Will to the point Will doesn't feel like he has a life of his own [Will used to love it as a kid, but now he's in his mid 20's/early 30's? Not so much] -Can use his pullstring as another limb, being able to grab things or life himself up with it. -Sometimes literally hangs around by cradling/hammocking himself with his pullstring

#creepypasta #laughing jack #laughing jack headcanons #headcannons #creepypasta headcannons

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green-like-pine-trees · 2 months

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Oscar’s eyes glowing green is weird. The sound effect is clearly the same from when they swap places, but his eyes typically glow gold/yellow. Question is: What’s happening?

And I think I might have an answer… and it requires reworking everything I thought I knew about the merge.

The TLDR of my theory is: I think Ozpin uses magic to delegate control of the body. So, Oscar’s never been able to fully control the swapping process bc he couldn’t use their magic– he has always needed Ozpin’s help to do so. The magic in the epilogue might be trying to force them to swap, to force Oscar to take control of it.

If you want to know how I got to that, keep reading. I’m excited to hear other people’s thoughts on this. ^_^

So, before now, I’ve assumed that their eyes glow because of the god of light. Even the white haired guy’s eyes glow when Ozma takes control for the first time. In the Lost Fable, during the divorce, Salem reforms with the same golden glow.

I have also assumed that the eye glow indicated that Oscar and Oz were swapping places. I believe this notion might be incorrect.

My main evidence for this is V7's finale. Oscar is falling, knocked out by Ironwood. Then, Ozpin's voice wakes Oscar up, his eyes glowing golden as he takes control.

However, he isn't swapping control. Ozpin wasn't in control: neither of them seemed to be. Therefore, the magic must be more complicated than a simple swap.

Another moment that gives me pause is in V6C2. After the train derails, everyone's questioning Ozpin about the lamp. Oscar is able to push through, resisting Ozpin's control enough to provide Jinn's name.

As we can see, there’s no golden-eye effect. Although, we do hear something: the swapping sound effect.

Usually there’s 2 parts to the swapping sound effect: a hissing sound and a lower echo-y undercurrent. It’s usually heard quickly, not lingering as the swap finishes and his eyes stop glowing. However, in this scene, the sound is drawn out as Oscar fights back– even as violins(?) start playing to amp up the tension. The moment all the music stops and the tension is released, we can assume Ozpin has regained full faculties.

Based on these scenes, I concluded that the glowing eyes might indicate either one of them taking control of the body. In this scene, Ozpin is never not in control of the body. Oscar is just able to resist, holding the body frozen in Ozpin’s expression. But then I realized something.

Outside of this scene, Oscar has never taken control over the body.

Like, I cannot think of another time where Oscar forcefully took over Ozpin or clearly brought Ozpin to control. He’s been asked permission, sure. But, in control???

In these scenarios, Oscar’s role has always been framed as passive, with Ozpin as active. Ozpin can take over Oscar no problem, with or without permission. Oz even asking is a courtesy, if anything. Ozpin can also just swap out and force Oscar to be in control (see V6 when Ozpin hides from everyone as an example).

With this in mind, maybe the eye glow isn't for whomever is in control. It’s to indicate Ozpin’s state of control over the body. Ozpin swaps in– eye glow. Ozpin swaps out– eye glow. V6C2 is the only time Oscar comes close to forcibly taking control. At that point, it might even be impossible for Oscar to do so. Oscar can try to initiate, but Ozpin has to actually do it.

This like. Drastically changed my view of how the Ozmosis works. It also might explain why his eyes are glowing green and what’s happening in the epilogue. So, I started thinking about what is likely the source of the green: his magic.

We know for a FACT, Oscar didn’t gain control over Ozpin’s magic until V7. Given we know the god of light’s magic is what dictates Ozpin’s reincarnation, it would not be a leap to suggest that Ozpin is using that magic when he swaps. Ergo, if Oscar cannot use magic, he cannot fully control the swap.

Under this scenario, my first example makes more sense. Either Ozpin was waking up Oscar (forcing him into control) OR Oscar was able to take control because he tapped into Ozpin’s magic for the first time.

When I watched the epilogue, it reminded me of the V6 scene. The prolonged sound effect, the clear struggle. He sounds like he's in pain. :(

He says he's resisting the merge, but the merge... it's not exactly tangible?? The merge is a process not a thing. For instance, if I put a dam on a river it stops the water from flowing. The merge is the flow here. What's the water?

I have two guesses as to what these episodes are:

Less likely, but it could be his magic activating uncontrollably. Him resisting Ozpin's influence might make it harder to control. He can't use the magic, bc of course, it makes them merge faster. Doesn't necessarily explain the sound effect, but their first on screen swap was a green color.

The merge is trying to force them to co-pilot, and/or force Ozpin into control of the body. Oscar collapses both times. We could assume it's from the pain, but it could also be because he momentarily loses control of his body.

I'm leaning towards the second. There's only so much we can take from an animatic, with things getting changed in the final product.

Anyways, those are my main thoughts right now. I'd LOVE to hear other people's thoughts or opinions!

#I haven't even gotten into Oscar's isolation... im making that its own post mark my words #rwby #Oscar pine #Ozpin #rwby theory #Rwby volume 9 #Ozmosis #geartalks

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moondwellerthatdwells · 26 days

Note

the moon spawn au has me by the throat, please tell me about it. Feel free to rant, I will read it if you do. Also feel free not to answer!

Everytime someone asked me/noticed/or even look at stuff about my au i go ajsjsjsjsjsjjshdjsjjsjdjejs, i will be putting it under the cut incase I got on the dashboard of someone who doesn't want to scroll through a whole wall! (an extra one year old doodle for you)

In order to keep myself from exploding i will put in one section and explained some stuff because I dont know where to start

The protectiveness of Moonstone, more stuff to do with Cassandra.

(Note that i will call the Moonstone, the rock She/it, you can call her whatever i just use this)

One thing to be clear Moonstone doesnt like Cass, no not one bit. Like previous posts i mentioned that Its constantly and slowly draining away Cassandra's energy and therefore life, that's how desperate Moonstone is to get away.

But! She likes Varian! Why? Well Varian is a perfect holder to her, he's in a state of panic and is easy to influence, and he's quick, and has a good relationship with the Sundrop! That's all she needs! She's keeping this one!

So it became protective, of its host, because if this one dies then it'll never reunite with its sun. Time to fix plot holes!

Plot hole number one: How did Varian stay alive, wandering for weeks, cold, alone in a forest?

Moonstone drains the life around her to gain energy, keep em going, she's like Varian's life support, or more accurately his own version of adrenaline. There's probably a trail of dead plants, birds and animals in their path.

Plot hole number two: where is Zhan Tiri! And Cassandra!

Cassie's injured and later on arrested when Rapunzel and the gang found her while looking for the missing alchemist. She's unconscious the whole time, woke up in a special cell because Rapunzel doesn't want to put her in the dungeons.

Zhan Tiri stuck close to Cass, she's not completely useless yet! If things get out of hands then possession is the way to go(also Zhan Tiri cant stay near Varian for more than 5 seconds without alerting the Moonstone and blasted away by the sheer power of "DONT TOUCH THE CHILD")

Plot hole number three: what happened after Varian found his way back?

Previous post! Sun managed to soothe the Moon temporarily. And right afterward Varian regains his consciousness, looks around, looks at himself, his bloody hand and then faints.

I like to keep the classic cartoon humor breaks.

They can't remove the Moonstone out of his hand, and it goes crazy whenever Rapunzel is not near. Still gotta use a lost incantation to calm it down. Now where to find it...

And how did black rocks sprout directly from Varian's body?

Under his clothes there's a thin layer of black rock armor . He cant control it, the Moonstone just does whatever she wants, even when Varian is used to the Moon powers he still cant control it.

#excited explodes!!!!!#tangled the series #tts #rapunzels tangled adventure #varian #tts varian #tangled #tts cassandra #moonstone varian #tts rapunzel #moonspawn au #moon varian #mom the dweller is howling again

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subaquatic0mess · 1 month

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Alenoah Hypnosis AU, where Alejandro offers to hypnotize Noah, Noah says yes but makes sure that Owen + Izzy + Tyler is around to make sure that Alejandro doesn't make him do anything too embarrassing...

But Alejandro only adds a hypnotic trigger... Whenever Alejandro offers Noah a hug, Noah feels a strong urge to cuddle Alejandro... It's Alejandro own way of playfully messing with Noah... Noah hates it (but secretly enjoys the cuddles)... Owen + Izzy + Tyler doesn't stop Alejandro from adding the trigger, cause they think the hugging might help the anti-social grumpy Noah...

NOAH (while hugging Alejandro): "I'll get you for this, you eel..." 🍥

I've induced myself into to much content about this idea already so I'll give you a quick response so that I don't become hella biased or just repeat something someone else might have already said. (Did I say quick? Fuck that, future me had other ideas.)

Something I would like to see is Noah gradually understanding how to suppress the urges of the hypnosis with Owen's help.

By that I don't mean he just randomly stopped being able to be hypnotised or something.

I mean that Noah would realize just hiw much control Alejandro had over him and he realized he couldn't do anything about it.

This then brings Noah to consistently try to explain to Owen how wrong this is and that he needs him to help him to not give in. Yet it wasn't that easy he knew that if that eel even doubted Noah was retaliating he'd most definitely put a stop to it.

So this ends up with Owen confused as he keeps recieveing mixed signals from Noah who seems to switch up almost completely when Alejandro joins the same room. (Noah isn't taking chances.)

So this ends up with Noah practically beggin Owen to pay attention to the next time he gets hypnotised.

This results in Owen seeing his best buddy go from his usual self to someone who wasn't there. The way Noah disassociated scared Owen a bit.

Now Owen would try to understand how he views Alejandro. Alejandro was supposed to be a good guy no? Why does this feel so wrong then?

The moment Noah would regain focus he'd probably be quite alarmed as his chubby buddy is quite literally having a crisis. See what I mean now Owen?

And this would result in the two slowly scheming a way of making sure Noah would be able to control the trigger of his hypnosis.

Owen making sure Noah avoided Alejandro.

Noah trying to concentrate on Owen rather than Alejandro.

Owen trying to distract Alejandro when he saw he was hypnotising Noah breaking his focus midway through. That last one was quite helpful. Hope is not something the cynic feels too often but this is important.

Hope.

Knowing that he can break even if only momentarily from Alejandro's grasp.

////////////////////////////////////////////////

Something I invision would maybe be Noah being able to free himself from his grasp but not emidiatly making it clear for anyone else. Besides Owen.

Like now they have the power over that eel. Ofcoirse this would work for only a little since I feel like after all of what happened Noah would be pissed.

And he isn't one to just express himself. He's too lazy for that.

And since he bottled up his anger I have a feeling there would be a moment where he would just burst?

It's not even about the hugs. Fuck that Noah wasn't even that pissed about that.

He was pissed Alejandro used that to make Noah shut up when he disagreed with him.

He felt as if he took his voice. It made him feel small.

He couldn't take it anymore. So blah blah angst and more heavy angst that I have no clue how to write properly. Srr!!

And then they would probably become quite begrudging of eachother as now things are quite tense.

From Alejandro's pov he didn't see no wrong in what he was doing. Maybe he might've have gone a bit overboard but- Noah allowed him. Did he just make Alejandro a fool of himself in international television?

For everyone to see? For his brother to see? For his parents?

Oh no. He can't bear that.

Did he do the same to Noah?

They're both torn at the moment. This is all my brain ranting srr if it makes no sense.

Credits to this anon, @total-drama-brainrot and they're anons awell for the inspo!

Idk what else to say!!!

#noah td #td noah #total drama #alenoah #td alejandro #alejandro/noah #owen td #hypnosis au #alenoah hug trigger au

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fictionally-driven · 10 days

Text

Chapter 2: Purple Sage

pairing: Wriothesley x f! reader

trigger warnings: violence, blood, murder, imprisonment, suggestive, ptsd, mentions of child abuse, false convictions, recovery, anxiety, scamming

AN: If anyone wants to be a part of the taglist for this series, please let me know via comments/reblogs or asks. Reblogs of the work are always appreciated. Thank you!

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Wriothesley closed the file with a heavy thud, a deep frown etched across his face. (Y/N) was her name; he’d gathered that from the file. She was a florist, which explained why she had seemed quite annoyed about the flowers when she stumbled against him that evening in Fontaine. Her records up until recently were clean—those of a law-abiding citizen. But the last few pages of the file painted a damning picture: she’d been convicted of the murder of a merchant.

The case was laid out methodically, almost too neatly. The merchant, a man with whom (Y/N) had a known feud over business disputes, had met a gruesome end. The bouquet of Lumidouce Bells and edible flowers was sprayed with the toxic concentrate of Lily of the Valley, a deadly concoction. He had touched the flowers, unwittingly transferring the poison onto his skin, and then used the edible flowers to make tea. The poison took its toll swiftly, leaving little room for doubt.

The investigation had moved quickly. The merchant's son-in-law was the first to raise suspicions, his voice ringing loud and clear in the aftermath of the merchant's death. The body was analyzed in the morgue, revealing traces of the toxic concentrate. Vials of similar toxins were found in the backroom of (Y/N)'s flower shop, seemingly sealing her fate. She insisted on her innocence, claiming she had delivered the flowers to a servant, but the evidence was damning. The court sentenced her to twenty-five years in Meropide.

Wriothesley placed the closed file to the side, his fingers drumming thoughtfully on the desk. Everything was too convenient, too perfect in its damning assembly. He had been informed by the Gardes that Sigewinne had taken (Y/N) to the infirmary after she was tricked for her coupons and given stale food. Anyone in Meropide knew the cafeteria food was free, though randomized. How could someone who allegedly planned a murder so meticulously be naive enough to trust strangers with her coupons?

His curiosity piqued, Wriothesley rose from his chair and made his way to the infirmary. The corridors of Meropide were familiar to him like the back of his hand. After all, for most of his life, it had been his home. The metallic clang of doors and the distant murmur of voices faded into the background as he approached the infirmary.

Inside, Sigewinne was at her desk, humming a cheerful tune as she filed paperwork. The Melusine’s small form was a stark contrast to the grim surroundings, her presence a rare beacon of warmth for the inmates of Meropide. A mug filled with what could only be one of her infamous milkshakes sat beside her, its odd color indicative of her peculiar tastes.

"Your Grace!" Sigewinne beamed as he entered, her eyes sparkling with delight. "Would you like a milkshake? I made it myself."

Wriothesley chuckled awkwardly, shaking his head. “No, thank you, Sigewinne. I think I’ll pass.”

Sigewinne’s milkshakes were notorious in Meropide for their peculiar ingredients, which she swore by for their health benefits. Wriothesley had tried them multiple times, and it had taken all his self-control not to gag. He couldn't help but wonder what bizarre ingredients she had blended this time.

"How is she?" he asked, his tone softening.

Sigewinne glanced towards one of the infirmary beds where (Y/N) lay, her face pale and drawn. “She’s resting now. I’ve given her something to settle her stomach and some proper food to regain her strength.” Her expression softened. “She was in pretty bad shape when I brought her in. Dehydration, fatigue, stress… you name it. I have also given something for the blisters on her palms."

Wriothesley walked over to (Y/N)'s bedside, his gaze taking in her fragile state. Even in her weakened condition, there was a quiet strength in her features. His mind drifted back to their encounter in Fontaine. She had been full of life then, her eyes sparking with annoyance and fire. Now, they were closed, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

"Thank you, Sigewinne," he said, turning back to the Melusine. "Keep an eye on her for me, will you. I have a feeling she’ll need any assistance she can get here to get back on her feet." Wriothesley moved closer, his presence imposing yet gentle. He could see the faint lines of worry on (Y/N)'s forehead, the dark circles under her eyes. She had clearly been through an ordeal.

(Y/N)'s eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, confusion clouded her gaze. Then recognition dawned, and she stiffened, clearly remembering their previous encounter. "You," she whispered, her voice hoarse.

Wriothesley nodded. "Yes, it's me. I'm Wriothesley, the Warden of Meropide."

Her eyes widened in shock and horror, her voice barely above a whisper. “I... I'm so sorry about your shoes..."

He glanced down at his boots, now cleaned and showing no signs of the events from earlier. "Don't worry about it," he said, waving her apology away. "It's just a pair of shoes, they’re all cleaned up."

She tried to sit up, but Wriothesley clicked his tongue, gently pressing her back down. "Rest. Rest here as long as Sigewinne allows you to. After all, the mattresses here in the infirmary are far more comfortable than the ones in the dorms." He paused, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "But don't tell anyone I said that. I’d get into trouble as the Warden for admitting such things."

A chuckle escaped her lips, a small but genuine sound that seemed to lighten the room as he wiped away the remaining tears from her cheeks.

Wriothesley’s expression softened further. "How many coupons did you lose earlier?"

Her gaze wavered, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. He repeated his question, his voice gentle. "You won't get into any trouble, (Y/N). Just tell me who tricked you."

Her gaze became downcast, avoiding his eyes. "I... I don't remember their names," she stammered.

Wriothesley could see she was lying, her eyes wavering and unable to meet his gaze. He decided not to press further. "How much did you lose?" he asked again.

"200," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Wriothesley sighed. He had seen her records and knew that it was her first wage from the production zone. Even now, when she had the opportunity to lie about the credit coupons to inflate their number, she stuck to the truth. He reached into his pocket and handed her 200 coupons.

She shook her head, her eyes widening. "I can't take these," she protested.

"Yes, you can," he insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"No, really, I can't," she said, pushing the coupons back towards him. "I don't deserve them."

Wriothesley clicked his tongue again, shaking his head. "You're not in a position to refuse help. Take the coupons. Consider it as me compensating it for damaging your flowers a few days ago.”

"But—" she started.

"No buts," he interrupted. "You need these more than I do."

She hesitated, her hand trembling as she finally took the coupons. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice breaking.

Wriothesley nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Just get some rest and recover. We'll figure out the rest later."

(Y/N) let out a very shaky breath, covering her eyes with the back of her arm. Wriothesley could see her lips quiver, understanding that she was holding back her tears. He understood the need for composure despite her vulnerable state.

“It was all a mistake,” she stammered, her voice breaking. “I shouldn’t be here. I… I didn’t kill anyone!”

Wriothesley didn’t respond immediately, the weight of his position pressing down on him. As the Warden, he was expected to remain impartial, to enforce the law without bias. But his conscience whispered that there was truth in her words, something in her demeanor that spoke of sincerity and desperation.

“Be that as it may,” he said carefully, choosing his words with deliberate precision, “if what you say is true, it will eventually come to light. The truth has a way of surfacing, and when it does, you will be a free person.”

(Y/N) let out a bitter laugh, her gaze fixed on the ceiling. “Who knows how long that will take,” she muttered, frustration lacing her voice.

Wriothesley hummed in agreement. “I can’t change the verdict that’s been passed, but I can assure you that Meropide isn’t as terrible as the surface world makes it out to be.”

(Y/N)’s eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and sorrow. “My experience says otherwise,” she shot back, her voice rising slightly. “I dislike it here. It’s so gloomy, and the constant metal clanking noises startle me. People are rude and hostile. There’s no sunlight, no fresh air, and not a single plant or a shred of greenery here that isn’t mold!” Her words tumbled out in a tense ramble, each complaint pouring from her as if a dam had burst. “Here, everything is gray and lifeless. No offense.”

Wriothesley chuckled softly at her last remark. “Of all the things you could list, you’re concerned about the lack of plants?”

She looked at him, her eyes fierce despite the tears brimming in them. “You’d be surprised how plants can liven up even the dreariest environments,” she retorted. “I miss my flowers and plants. They brought me peace, a sense of normalcy. Even in the worst of times, they were a constant.”

Wriothesley nodded thoughtfully, her words resonating with him. "I suppose you're right," he conceded. "Plants do have a way of brightening up a space."

(Y/N) sighed, the tension in her body slowly ebbing away. "I miss my shop, my work…" she murmured, more to herself than to him. "The smell of fresh flowers, the way the sun would filter through the windows in the morning. It was my sanctuary."

Wriothesley leaned against the infirmary bed, his arms crossed. "Tell me about it," he encouraged, sensing that talking might help ease her distress.

She glanced at him, surprise flickering in her eyes. But she took a deep breath and began. "It wasn't much, just a small shop in a quiet part of Fontaine that I inherited from my grandmother. I grew all the plants myself, tended to them every day. There were always fresh bouquets in the window, and people would come in just to admire them, even if they didn't buy anything. I loved seeing their faces light up. There was this one little girl who would visit every week, just to smell the flowers. It was... peaceful."

Wriothesley listened intently, picturing the vibrant little shop she described. "Sounds like a lovely place," he said softly.

"It was," she whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek. "And now... it's all gone."

Wriothesley leaned closer, his expression softening. "Don't give up hope yet," he urged. "If you were wrongfully convicted, then I have faith in the Iudex of Fontaine to uncover the truth. Chief Justice Neuvillette is no longer reliant on the Oratrice. He's thorough and fair. If there is evidence to prove your innocence, he will find it."

She looked at him, a flicker of hope mingling with her lingering despair. "But what if it takes too long? What if it never happens?" she whispered, her voice fragile.

"Once you've recovered and feel well-rested," Wriothesley continued, "come see me in my office. We'll talk more about your case and see what we can do to get you a fair review."

(Y/N) nodded slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. "Thank you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Wriothesley turned to Sigewinne, who had been silently watching their exchange. He gave the Melusine a nod, a silent request to take good care of (Y/N). "Keep an eye on her," he said, his voice gentle. "Make sure she gets the care she needs."

"Of course, Your Grace," Sigewinne replied with a warm smile. "She'll be well looked after."

With one last glance at (Y/N), Wriothesley left the infirmary, his mind already racing with thoughts and plans. As he walked through the familiar corridors of Meropide, he mentally prepared himself to write to Neuvillette. He knew that if anyone could uncover the truth, it was Neuvillette. The man's dedication to justice was unparalleled.

Arriving at his office, Wriothesley sat down at his desk, pulling out parchment and ink. His thoughts were focused, determined. He wrote to Neuvillette first, outlining the details of (Y/N)'s case and his concerns about the evidence that seemed too neatly arranged. He trusted Neuvillette's judgment and knew that if anyone could see through a potential miscarriage of justice, it was the Chief Justice.

Next, he penned a request to the Spina di Rosula, something that was second nature to him despite remaining elusive to its boss. He’d often contacted them to make requests for material and goods for Meropide and this time was no different.

Sealing the letters, Wriothesley leaned back in his chair. (Y/N) deserved justice, and he was committed to doing everything in his power to ensure that the truth was uncovered. Meropide might be a place of punishment, but it was also a place where hope could still thrive in the form of second chances and a reset, whichever was to one’s liking. He handed the letters to his trusted Gardes as he retired for the day.

The corridors of Meropide seemed a little less cold as he made his way back to his quarters. The clang of metal doors and the murmur of voices faded into the background, his thoughts focused on the task ahead. He would ensure that (Y/N)'s voice was heard, and that if she was indeed innocent, she would find her freedom once more.

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taglist: - @local-x-reader

#lina writes #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley fanfic #genshin fanfic #fontaine #genshin wriothesley #genshin impact fanfics

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bestworstcase · 3 months

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re: talk of Burn, do you have any idea why Yang's aura clearly broke when Neo struck her in V8 (right after activating Burn)? my theory is that perhaps activating her semblance does something like Tock's where it makes her aura manifest more solidly on her body (which is how it can make her hair light on fire) and therefore also, like Tock, means that her aura is more vulnerable. to me this would also explain why Yang would use it as a finisher at first; using it when she's already going to run out of aura makes it, in a sense, less dangerous because she's already gotten most of the other uses out of her aura that she can get.

would love to know if you think this is accurate, or what you actually think is going on with yang's semblance on a mechanical level (if you're interested in that anyway)

first, a general point about aura and aura breaking. the characters’ use of meters has led to a sort of popular fanon that aura works like hit points in a video game, where you have this many and taking damage reduces your HP by a certain number until you hit zero and then your aura breaks; (dark souls splash screen voice) YOU DIED.

i do not think it works that way.

from world of remnant:

aura is a manifestation of the soul, a life force that runs through every living creature on remnant—whether they are a meager shopkeep or a renowned knight. however, what sets true warriors apart from all others is their ability to amplify and control their aura.

aura is the power of one’s soul. it’s guided by emotion, self-knowledge, and spirituality. in its purest form, it becomes a semblance.

defensive aura is not a passive effect. we know this for a fact. in V5, oscar finds it physically exhausting to engage his aura in this way and ren tells him that’s normal—it requires intense concentration at first, then becomes second nature with practice. in V7, jaune’s aura-training demonstrates that recovery, regaining aura once it has been depleted, is a conscious action that can be improved through practice. this is because the “aura level” tracked by those meters is not a measurement of how much aura you have in the tank, as it were, but something like the density of the aura-field you’re pushing outward, or speed of flow, or something along those lines.

(the way i’m handling it in TDT is there’s a hard upper bound to how much aura you can hold in your skin, like a sponge not being able to absorb more water, and what auraleric gauges attempt to measure is % of maximum saturation because everyone’s aura will break around 5-10% saturation even though the amount of aura you have at 100% varies. anything you push out above that threshold is projected as transient bursts of energy and that’s where you start getting into offensive techniques.)

hazel’s phenomenal endurance is noted to derive from his rapid recovery, not the basal amount of aura he has. (he even just shrugs off being impaled.) i believe his semblance gives him an edge here, because it requires concentration to amplify one’s aura and hazel can’t be distracted by physical pain.

which brings me to aura-breaking. it doesn’t happen when the proverbial tank is empty. auras break when you can’t sustain the mental effort of generating enough aura; this might happen because the well you’re drawing from really has run dry (<- think this is what happened to nora with the high voltage door), but it might also be because you’re too tired, or you took a really painful or unexpected hit that shattered your focus, because you’re panicking or furious.

i think tock’s semblance is in the same ‘family’ as hazel’s and ironwood’s in that it puts her into a state of intense focus by blocking out anything that might shake her—with hers being far, far more potent than theirs but so potent she can’t maintain it for longer than sixty seconds, and possibly needs the ticking clock to ‘anchor’ her focus.

(fic stuff again, because tock’s alive in TDT for butterfly wing flaps reasons: sixty seconds is not a hard limit of her semblance; she can and on one occasion did go for much longer. to project an aura field you draw aura out of your reserve, which is the aura that naturally ‘pools’ around your soul; if that runs dry and you’re desperate enough, pushing hard enough, you can wring more aura out of your soul. blood from a stone. it hurts a lot, it will mess you up, and it can do permanent damage similar to what the aura transfer machines do to pietro. sixty seconds is how long it takes for tock’s semblance to drain her aura reserve, rounded down to allow for a margin of error.)

so. yang.

i think, mechanically, when the average person with aura training gets hit, their aura burns up to disperse most of that energy. (<- when they’re swatting gunfire away, the bullets bounce; the energy is reflected.)

but yang’s semblance absorbs energy—which is to say, if you had a ball throwing machine shoot a tennis ball at yang and someone else with equivalent training from the same distance, it would hit yang harder because her aura is less reflective; more of the ball’s kinetic energy flows into her body. then, like a battery, her aura converts that energy into some other form that can be stored.

sort of like dust, in fact. dust has a lot of potential energy, which is released when the material reacts with aura. given the literally explosive firepower yang gains from burn, i think that she’s storing this absorbed energy in the same form as occurs naturally in dust, which would put burn in the same ‘family’ as coco’s hype or arrastra’s equilibrium…

…and would also mean that this statement:

some prefer to use dust in its raw form: elegant, yet destructive. those who choose to wield dust in this state must possess a certain level of discipline to ensure that their resulting powers do not break free of their control.

is true of burn, too. and that tracks with who yang is and how she uses her semblance—even in V1-3, yang takes a more head-on approach to fights and tends to soak up more damage before exploding bigger vs her increasingly nimble and even acrobatic style post-beacon, but her control over those massive volcanic eruptions is immaculate.

the way burn works in general requires that yang be very, very in control of her aura at all times because she needs to balance between absorbing energy to charge up her semblance while reflecting enough to prevent injury, and this is one reason why i think yang is probably the best out of the cast when it comes to using aura. ren might have her beat on the more spiritual, extra-sensory perception side of things, but yang has to keep her focus while getting hit harder than anyone else Because Physics.

and that brings us to neo one-shotting yang’s aura. here is what happens: cinder is gloating from atop a pillar of fire while people scream and run in a panic all around them, and out of the corner of her eye, yang sees a glint of steel and realizes that neo is about to stab her unsuspecting baby sister in the back, she’s too far away, she can’t get there fast enough—burn is, in that moment, a reflex. instinct. she panics and hurls herself in between neo and ruby without even thinking about it because the only thing in her mind is GET TO RUBY NOW.

and that’s why her aura just shatters. it requires concentration—you practice until it becomes instinctive, until you don’t need to think about it, muscle memory. but it still takes focus. intention. yang has incredible self-control and thus incredible control of her aura, but everyone has limits, and hers are “holy fuck that guy stabbed blake” and “neo is going to kill ruby go go go.”

her semblance in itself doesn’t make her defense any weaker—but when she’s terrified enough for burn to activate reflexively like this, her aura will break if she gets hit because she’s freaking out.

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bau-drabbles · 1 year

Text

a/n: angst to fluff w hotch. idk i felt sad 🫡 it's very rushed my bad

the house was dark and still as you entered with the key he specially gave you. the night air was calm and for a second, you rest your forehead against the front door of aaron hotchner. lately it had been a constantly whirl of turmoil, never truly knowing where you stood with him. but he called tonight, trying to remain calm but you could sense the pure sadness practically dripping with every word he spoke. you almost rushed to be here with him and now that you were here, your heart felt weirdly empty.

turning the lock from the key he gave specially to you, you enter his humble abode. there's a scent of freshness in his home mixed with the sandalwood candles he has on his counter-tops. on your right, a digital clock reads 2am. you don't even know yourself why you're here but you venture forwards, careful not to make any loud sounds.

he didn't tell you specifically where he'd be and for a moment you contemplate going home. until you hear a rustle in the office followed by pages turning. figures, he never stopped working even at home

you made your way to the door, unsure of what to even say. it was different seeing him at work than at night. he was always so confident during the day, so determined to get the unsub. but at night was when you could see the little cracks in him, the vulnerability he tried to hard to lock away. all the dear characteristics you adore, you finally notice when it's the two of you alone.

"you came" hotch whispered, finally turning his eyes to you. they're filled with unshed tears, shining with the lights that reflect from outside. everything in you wants to hold him before the first tear drop but you hold yourself back, slowly nodding at his statement

and there you see him, by the window wistfully glancing outside. a half drunken tumbler glass is in his hands nursing the bottle of scotch beside him. you don't think he registered your presence until he lets out a breath, his voice hoarse as he speaks.

"you called" you answer softly, padding your way towards him. as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. you'd drop anything for him, whenever he needed you there you were. there you'd be.

"i-i'm sorry, i don't know what i was thinking..." he sniffs and offers you a glass but you shake your head no, sitting down on the desk beside him. joining him as you both looked onto the world, bathed in all its lights.

"is jack asleep?" you ask gently and he nods, setting down his glass.

"i almost envy the ability children have to fall into a deep sleep" he chuckles but there's not a drop of humour present in his voice. your heart aches for this man, clearly something has transpired tonight and you feel his pain as he tries to explain

"what happened?"

"nothing... everything.... something. i don't know anymore. i just don't feel in control of anything anymore..." his eyes never drift away from the window and yours follow, your heart breaking slowly for what he has had to deal with.

"given what you went through, it's natural to feel like that. you're human, hotch. life moves fast and it can be unpredictable, throwing your world upside down," you take a look at him and smile, shifting closer. "but this feeling will also pass. soon it'll feel nothing more than a small ache, i promise. your world may seem tilted on its axis right now but you'll regain the control again. you always have, you always will. and you always have me" you give him a small smile and he touches your hand with a tender touch.

"thank you" he whispers and you blink in confusion, raising your eyebrows slightly at the question

"thank you for being here. with me. i appreciate it. i appreciate you" his voice is sincere as his brown eyes twinkle, his thumb rubbing soft strokes on the back of your hand. you place your other hand on top of his, your face a couple inches away from his. here, you can see all the pain and sadness he hides on the daily. it makes you want to cry, to snatch every bad thing until he only ever knows happiness and love and light

"of course aaron" your thumb rubs soft circles around his knuckles. you both sit in comfortable silence, the stars dancing in the night sky as you both continue to look out from his house. the love surges off from both of you in waves and you both do nothing but bask in the light of it, for once no running to unsubs. no chaos, no tension, no anger, no frustration. just you and hotch, two people who are falling deeply for each other than they'd care to admit.

but that was tomorrows problem, you stay by his side. the smell of his gorgeous cologne drifting in the air and the sweetness of his touch tingling your skin, you smile to yourself.

it was beautiful, this was beautiful.

#criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader fluff

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beverly-williams · 7 months

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“Grief never ends. But it changes. It’s a passage, not a place to stay. Grief is not a sign of weakness nor a lack of faith. It is the price of love.” – Unknown

November 12th, 2023

Beverly sat in the passenger seat of Ace’s truck, her head resting against her seat while he drove. Moving quickly down the highway towards the CPS office, Bev looked out the window in silence.

An hour earlier when he had arrived at her apartment, she broke down and let him know all she knew. Bev herself had so many questions that she could not answer.

When and why had her brother fallen back into heroin after so many months of being clean? When had he met Vanessa? How long were they together? Did he love her? Was he happy? When had Michael been born? How old is he now? What is he like?

Her mind was cluttered with questions and intrusive thoughts that only prompted her anxiety to try and take a hold of her again. Attempting to calm herself, Bev let out a slow, controlled breath as her body began to tremble again.

“I’m here, Bevvy cakes,” reminded Ace, giving her hand a squeeze to help ground her.

Beverly closed her eyes and nodded, her grip on Ace’s hand tightening while the wave of anxiety washed over her. Her chest felt tight, a broken cry escaping her lips as she attempted to control the attack. Images of what her brother must have looked like came to the forefront of her mind again. “Ace,” Beverly cried out, tears rolling down her face.

Beverly hated crying. It made her feel weak. It reminded her of when she was small and alone, crying in a room that had to be shared with her foster siblings. The emptiness and sorrow she felt, the loneliness that claimed her heart always took her back to those times.

Ace had pulled over the car and Beverly was unaware that they had arrived until she felt both of Ace’s hands on her face. “Bevvy,” Ace said, his eyes on her as he wiped her tears away with his thumbs. “Look at me,” he murmured.

Beverly opened her eyes but was unable to see his face clearly, her eyes glossy with a film of tears. She blinked them away, clearing her vision. His face was so close to hers that she could all the flecks of grey in his blue eyes. Focusing on his face and voice began to ground her, pulling her out of the anxiety attack enough to regain her strength to fight it.

Her breathing steadied and her heartrate slowed. Blinking away the last of the tears, she pulled away so she could wipe the rest with the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

Ace’s eyes scanned her face, giving her a small but encouraging smile. “That’ta girl,” he encouraged, stepping out of the truck, and moving to open the door for her. “Up we go,” he said, squatting down to wrap an arm across her lower back, steadying her on her feet.

With no food, drink, or sleep, Beverly felt so fatigued with only adrenaline to keep her moving. Ace released her once Bev was steady, the pair walking up towards the building.

She could taste the bile in her mouth, forcing it back down. The building in itself held many memories. It was where Matthew and Beverly had been taken after their parents died. It’s where they had stayed in-between foster families. It was where they came when Beverly was finally eighteen and grew out of the system. Never did she think she would need to return.

Beverly and Ace waited in line until it was their turn at the front desk.

“Yes?” asked the receptionist lazily, almost agitated.

Beverly cleared her throat to speak. “I’m Beverly Williams, here for Michael Williams,” she said. “He was brought in last night, I’m here to take him home,” she said, her voice strained.

The receptionist typed in the information into the database, turning in her office chair to retrieve the paperwork before sliding the clipboard and pen to Beverly.

“Take a seat and fill this out. Wait until you’re called then you will go through those doors and into the first office on the right,” she explained, waving her hand in the general direction of where she had described.

Beverly thanked her and took the clipboard, finding an empty, cold plastic seat to sit on. The paperwork was extensive and by the end, her hand was shaking so terribly, she could barely write.

Half an hour passed and then another before she was finally called back.

“I’ll wait here,” Ace told her, giving her a nod and remaining in his seat. Beverly nodded and walked through the doors, to the office on the right as she had been told.

The door to the office was open though Beverly knocked and waited, a voice calling out for her to come in shortly after.

“Close the door, Miss Williams. Thank you,” said the woman. The plaque on her desk stated that her name was Emilia Johnson.

Beverly closed the door and took a seat as instructed. Over the course of an hour, the information Beverly had enclosed on the forms was reviewed. Her home address, place of work, work history, medical history, financial status, and all other questions Beverly had been forced to answer to obtain custody of her nephew.

When she was finally approved as a temporary legal guardian, Emilia reviewed Michael’s history with Beverly.

Michael James Williams was born on January 24th, 2023. He liked to be called MJ. He was a little over ten months old and had spent the first month of his life in the NICU. It took over three months for him to be released into Matthew and Vanessa’s care. Weekly welfare checks had been established to keep the family on track for several months. The checks then became biweekly, but it wasn’t long after when Vanessa failed her drug test. The following day, a welfare check had been done and it was then that they found the couple deceased in their bedroom.

Michael had been found in his crib, sitting in silence.

“I will warn you. Michael cries very little. It’s a sign of trauma due to unresponsiveness from the parents,” explained Emilia.

Beverly didn’t need the explanation. She had seen it before. Babies learning that their cries were futile. Their cries would go unanswered and even at a young age, they’d stop. What was the point after all? No one was coming.

“I’ll be sure to check for what he needs knowing he won’t cry to tell me,” Beverly reassured her, nodding.

There was a knock on the door as courtesy before it was opened. A tall woman walked in holding a beautiful, blonde boy in her arms. Beverly stood up immediately. She didn’t have to be told that this was her nephew, Michael. Michael was the splitting image of his father when he was his age.

It took her breath away for a second when he was handed to her and for a moment, Beverly felt as though Matthew were with her. His son was all that she had left of her brother, and she would guard him with her life.

Beverly held him to her chest, kissing the top of his head as tears formed. “Hi, sweet Michael. I’m Beverly, your aunt and I know you don’t know who I am, but you will. I’m never going to let anything happen to you again. I promise,” she breathed out, inhaling his sweet scent that calmed her nerves.

Michael did not smile, nor did he cry. He simply looked at Beverly. She knew it would take time, but she hoped that one day, both would be able to heal from the traumatic event that brought them together.

“Miss Williams. The man out front has Michael’s car seat and diaper bag. I will be checking in with you in a few days to see how you’re both adjusting. We’ll be in touch. Good luck,” said Emilia, giving her a smile before guiding them to the exit where Ace stood waiting with the diaper bag over his shoulder and car seat in his hands.

The sight made Beverly smile. She never pictured Ace in this way, and it struck her odd that it didn’t look out of place. In fact, it looked natural.

“Is this the little guy? Hey, buddy,” said Ace, taking his small finger in his hand. Michael looked at Ace but did not react, glancing away to look at Beverly who was holding him.

Beverly sighed softly. “I’ll explain later. Ready to go?” she asked him.

Ace nodded, still smiling. “Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

As the trio walked out of the CPS office, Beverly knew that the road ahead was not going to be easy, but she didn’t feel as alone as she had the night before. She knew she could count on the people who loved her to help carry the weight and get her through.

#[ bevy x06 ]#tw: drug overdose and death #tw: child trauma #tw: cps

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