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arealphrooblem · 1 day

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Kidnapped by the Boss Part 7

Hey guys! Sorry it's been like a million years since I updated anything! I got burned out for a while and I'm slowly getting back to it. Hopefully with summer break looming, you'll see more of me!

Synopsis: Civilian is a secretary to the Prime Minster. But when the political summit between the city states goes awry, she finds herself kidnapped by the very boss she tried to protect and nothing is what it seems.

Part one here

Part six here

"What is this?”

It looked harmless, a small metal rectangular wrist band with no buttons or engraving or adornment of any kind. She didn’t trust it, regardless, not that that mattered to Rook, who kept his explanations to himself as he grabbed her hand. She tried to jerk it back, but his grip turned bruising and iron tight as he latched it shut.

It hugged tightly on her, a nearly imperceptible hum against her skin. Only a tiny seam remained on the bottom, with no button or latch or catch to open it.

“What is it?” she demanded, swallowing down a flutter of panic.

Rook rolled his eyes. “Relax, princess. It’s just a tracker.”

“A tracker?”

“Yeah. Consider it your freedom. Now you can go anywhere you want and no one has to worry about you slipping out to somewhere you shouldn’t be.”

She gave him an appraising look. “Are you going to come fetch me if I go somewhere I shouldn’t?”

“No. I’m just going to push a button and an electric current will take you out until someone finds you.”

He gazed back, utterly impassive, and Val couldn’t tell if he was trying to scare her or not. She refused to be cowed though.

“How strong of a current are we talking about?” she asked

A smirk spread slowly across his face. “Why don’t you get near an airport and find out? If it doesn’t kill you, then you’ll have your answer.”

Val jut her chin up, meeting his smirk with a glare. “Do you get a kick out of trying to make me afraid? Does it make you feel tough?”

He snorted and stepped closer to her. She stood stock still as he linked their arms together.

“You’re in enemy territory, Val,” he murmured, ducking his head down close to her ear, like he was sharing a secret. “I’m just trying to keep you on your toes.”

“How thoughtful of you.”

The corner of his mouth lifted up. “My king wants you down for lunch in his office. I’ll show you the way.”

The king’s office looked much the same as it did when he was Eugene the Prime Minister. Papers scattered in random piles, post it notes scribbled with cryptic notes only he understood. Reminders taped on walls, the desk, the door.

A table was cleared off, the papers clearly dumped on the desk. A spread of soup and sandwiches sat on it, the king sitting in one of the chairs, waiting. Val was hit with a pang of nostalgia, because this set up looked exactly like the ones they had during campaign season. She didn’t know if he did it deliberately or if this was just how he ran his life.

“Afternoon, Val,” he said with a smile. “I see you have your tracker now.”

“And potential execution device,” she added dryly.

He shrugged. “Only a stupid person would need to worry about the electric shock and you are not stupid.”

“That makes me feel so much better.”

He smiled again, ignoring her sarcasm. “Have a seat.”

She reluctantly joined him and helped herself to a sandwich, knowing this whole charade was just to watch her eat. Rook did not join them, preferring to lean against the wall next to the king. It felt a little unnerving to eat under both of their stares but she knew there’d be hell to pay if she didn’t.

And she had to admit, the food was painfully delicious.

“You now control the lock on your door,” the king said (Aris? It still didn’t feel right but neither did Eugene). “You may stay or leave your room as you please. All unlocked areas of the castle are open to you, as well as the grounds. If you wish to head into the city, Rook will escort you.”

Rook’s mouth fell open in outrage. “You cannot be serious! I babysit her enough as it is and you want me to take her out for ice cream and shopping? Who is protecting you while I run bullshit errands with her?”

“Hey! Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I have a shopping addiction,” she snapped.

“Like you wouldn’t jump at the chance to blow all the king’s treasury just to fuck us over.”

“What the hell am I going to be buying to drain it — a super yacht?”

“Children, please.” The king — Aris — held up a hand. “It’s not an ideal situation for any of us, but the two of you will have to give each other a little faith.”

Val and Rook let out twin snorts of derision and then shot each other matching glares.

“As I was saying,” Aris said with a warning look, “you have been given a probationary amount of freedom, Val.”

“Probationary?” So this was temporary?

“Yes. Your privileges will change depending on your actions. If you stay obedient, prove yourself, then you freedoms will grow. If you try to circumvent your restrictions, you will lose your freedoms and live in a cell much less cozy than the rooms I’ve given you.”

Obedient. Like a toddler. Like a dog.

Not for the first time did helpless rage well up in her throat like acid. So many retorts and screams crowded her mouth that it rendered her speechless, unable to choose which to say first and terrified to say any of them.

Eug— Aris — looked at her in such smug satisfaction, as if proud of himself for bestowing a phenomenal gift. If Rook wasn’t in the room, Val could have hit him. Her fingers curled in on themselves to fight the temptation regardless.

“Do you have any questions?” Aris tilted his head slightly, studying her.

She used to love having his full attention on her — something made rare and precious because of his busy schedule and bouts of scatterbrained day dreaming. Right now it made her skin crawl, adding fuel to the feeling of constantly being under surveillance, never able to relax.

“Can I go now?” she asked tightly.

His gaze ducked down to her half-eaten lunch. “You haven’t finished your food.”

The rage leaped up, like a kerosene drenched campfire. She felt reckless and wild with it and without a second thought, flipped her plate off the table to watch it shatter to the floor, food spraying over the lush carpet.

“I’m done,” she said. “Now?”

She had no idea what her face looked like at that moment, but whatever Aris saw on it made him sit back in his seat.

“Yes,” he said slowly, warily. “Of course.”

Val stood so far that her chair fell backwards. “Thank you,” she bit out, dripping venom, before striding out the door.

She had no idea where she was headed, and she didn’t care. Val picked a direction and walked as fast as she could towards it. If it led her to a so-called restricted section of the palace, then maybe that would put her out of her misery.

The padded footsteps sound too close and too late to react before a hand grabbed her shoulder. Val whirled around, fist striking out in pure instinct at the warm body behind her. In less than a second, that body gripped her wrist and shoved her against the wall of the hallway.

Rook.

Of course.

“Someone is very cranky today,” he said, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a smirk.

“Let me go,” she snarled, pushing ineffectively against him.

Rook complied, releasing the bruising grip on her wrist and taking a wide step back, hands up in mock surrender.

“Not many people can scare the king, but I think you managed it just then,” he said.

“What the hell do you want? You have a tracker now. You don’t need to stalk me anymore.”

“We never finished our tour. I wouldn’t want you wandering somewhere you shouldn’t and getting electrocuted on your first day.”

“I’ll figure it out on my own, thanks.”

Rook gave her that same kind of stare Aris did — an assessment. Complete with head tilt. They must spend a lot of time together.

“You’re very angry for someone who was just given a significant amount of freedom that they quite frankly don’t deserve,” he said slowly.

She gave him a poisonous look. “I am not talking about this with you.”

And now that smirk again. “Thank god. I’m not paid to be a feelings person. But I think I know what you need.”

“A long walk off a tall cliff?”

He snorted. “Tempting. But no. Follow me and find out.”

It was probably a stupid decision to follow the most untrustworthy person she’d ever met, but having more opportunities to hate Rook offered her a welcome distraction. So, against all sanity, Val followed him down to an elevator and watched him push the basement button.

“Is that where you keep the torture chambers?” she asked, half joking, half . . .not joking.

“Sometimes it feels that way,” he muttered back.

The elevator dinged and opened to gleaming wooden floors and bright lights. It looked like the reception of a swanky business more than a typical basement. Down a short hallway sat an interior room lined with windows and inside sat various mats, weights, and other equipment.

“You brought me to the gym?” she asked dubiously.

“Yep.”

He made a bee line to a tall metal cabinet and pulled out boxing gloves. “Catch.”

Too fast for her to react, they hit Val square in the face and fell to the floor. She sent him another glare as he snickered before bending down to pick them up.

“You want me to hit something?”

Which actually sounded great, come to think of it.

“I want you to hit me.”

Oh even fucking better.

It felt too good to be true. But Val watched as he pulled out two wide padded circles and fitted them over his palms before he stepped onto one of the mats.

“You gonna put them on or are you chickening out?”

She yanked them onto her hands, their weight surprisingly heavy and then followed him onto the mat.

Rook held up his hands in the mock surrender pose.

“Hit these as hard as you can.”

“You’re serious?” She eyed him dubiously. “What if I hit you in the face?”

“You won’t.”

“You sure? It seems real tempting.”

He grinned. “The day you land a hit on me, I’ll smuggle you back home myself.”

As much as she wanted to deck his face, Val knew a trap when she heard one. Instead, she followed his instructions, landing a blow square against the right hand pad.

He didn’t even budge.

“Come on, Val, I know that’s not all you got. You were so full of rage earlier. Don’t tell me it left already.”

Oh, it didn’t. But she felt nervous putting her full effort in. Either it would hurt him and he’d make her pay or it would be pathetic and he’d mock her.

“You can’t laugh,” she said.

“Oh, I’m going to laugh. Now fucking hit me already.”

She took a deep breath and then slammed her fist against the pad with all her might. He never lost his footing, but she was pleased to see his body sway a fraction.

“Much better. I knew you had it in you. Do it again.”

“What’s the point of this?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Stress relief. I love hitting things when I’m mad. And if you’re hitting me then you’re not hitting my king. So come on, Val. Give me everything you’ve got.”

He asked and she delivered. Val channeled all the injustice, the fear, the grief that the last week had brought her into her fists, driving them over and over into Rook’s padded hands. She didn’t stop, not when her arms started to shake, not when sweat soaked her back, not when a lancing pain hit her shoulder with each impact. It was mindless violence with no victim and it blocked out everything else.

“Ok, okay, Val. That’s enough.”

His voice echoed distantly and she dismissed it instantly. He took a step back and she chased him. It wasn’t until he wrapped his arms around her from behind, trapping her arms against her sides.

“That’s enough Val,” he said in her ear.

She was breathing like a winded rhinoceros, her chest burning with it. But with each slowed breath, exhaustion threaded itself through her limbs and tugged. Eventually she slumped against his chest, happy to let him take all the weight of her. Even then he did not budge.

She was too tired to be angry now.

“Your form is absolute dog shit,” he said, his grip cautiously loosening. “But you have some potential. I could train you, if you wanted.”

“Train me?” With supreme effort, she pulled away from and turned to face him. “Train me in what?”

“Boxing. Mixed martial arts. Basic self defense. You can have your pick.”

“You want to teach me how to fight?” She crossed her arms. “Is this some kind of trap? What’s the catch?”

He raised an eyebrow. “There’s no catch. It would get you in shape, get your mind off things. Give you some sense of control.”

“And then I could use it against you.”

He had the gall to laugh at that, head thrown back. “Not in a million fucking years.”

“You think I could never be a threat to you?” Now she felt insulted. “Is it because I’m a woman?”

Rook rolled his eyes. “The scariest people I’ve ever met have been women. But a few weeks or months of the basics is never going to match years of intensive training. If you ever manage to hit me, it’s because I let you for your pride.”

He held out his hands for her gloves and she pulled them off with surprising reluctance.

“Come on,” he said. “I’ll show you the way back to your room. You need a shower.”

“Thanks,” she said dryly.

But a tiny flicker of gratitude wormed its way through her chest as she followed him back to the elevator. The exercise had cleared her head. She felt soothed, the tightness in her chest dissipated. Rook undoubtedly had ulterior motives for helping her, but he still could have let her drown in her own rage until she did something stupid that he’d gleefully punish her for.

Instead he gave her a much needed outlet.

She didn’t know how to feel about that.

Let me know in a comment if you want to be tagged!

Taglist

@rivalriotrenegade @sunyside-world @fishtale88 @those-damn-snippets @suspiciousmuffin @thats-alittle-gay @girl-of-the-sea-and-stars @tobeornottobeateacher @burningkittypoet @kurai-hono-blog @clover-sage

#hero x villain #enemies to lovers #my writing #villain x civilian #original fiction #writeblr #named characters #kidnapped by the boss

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mindfulstudyquest · 7 hours

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❥﹒♡﹒☕﹒ 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲-𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗴𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗴𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄

𝟭. set SMART goals ( 📒 )

make sure your goals are specific, measurable, actionable, realistic and time-bound. this will help you maintain focus and track your progress over time. how many times has it been you and your unrealistic to-do list against the world? well, it seems that a mile-long to-do list is not a good ally at all. remember that you are a person and not a machine, and that just dedicating four hours to deep work and concentration is A LOT. be kind to yourself and don't overload yourself with more work than you can humanly do.

𝟮. daily planning ( 🧸 )

mea culpa because i'm the first one who doesn't plan their day. to-do lists generally stress me out and make me feel overwhelmed as if i don't manage to complete all the tasks an asteroid will end up hitting the earth. but i recognize that it is a good starting point. sometimes i have too many things to do and i end up doing nothing in total confusion, but having at least a general list to follow gives me more motivation. moreover do we want to talk about the dopamine released when you tick an empty box? marvelous. maybe don't write down tasks that are too onerous and demanding, break them into several smaller tasks, also try to write simple activities such as "drink a glass of water" every now and then. having these low-commitment activities will help you stay motivated while completing more important tasks.

𝟯. reverse-engineering method ( 🪴 )

start with the end goal and work backwards to plan the actions needed to achieve it. this helps you maintain clarity on the steps to take and focus on the most relevant actions. the best thing to do is plan based on the time available and do your best to stick to your daily goal.

𝟰. timer roulette ( ⏳ )

choose a task from your to-do list and set a random timer between 15 and 45 minutes. work on that task with all your concentration until the timer goes off. this helps you fight procastination and keep your mind fresh.

𝟱. mind mapping time ( 📍 )

before starting a study session, take a few minutes to create a mental map of the subject you need to cover. this helps you see connections between concepts and organize information more effectively.

𝟲. task batching ( 🫒 )

group similar tasks together and tackle them in batches. for example, reply to all emails in one session rather than doing so at scattered times throughout the day. this helps you reduce transition time between tasks and maintain focus. contrary to popular belief, human beings are not truly multitasking (only a few possess this great ability) and when we do multiple things together we do nothing but shift our attention from one task to another, greatly reducing the quality of our performance. if possible, try to avoid these switches that are harmful to your focus and concentration.

𝟳. the pomodoro method ( 🍅 )

okay, y'all probably already know this one because it became so popular in the last year but if you don't, the pomodoro method is a time management technique developed by francesco cirillo in the late 80s. it is based on the idea of working for short periods of time, usually 25 minutes, followed by a short 5 minute break. after four rounds of work, a longer break is taken, usually 15-30 minutes. this technique helps improve concentration and productivity, as it breaks down work into manageable tasks and offers regular breaks to rest and regenerate energy. i personally prefer the 50/10 ratio while i'm studying but you decide which time ratio is better for you, i find it really useful and it helps me a lot while i'm studying for my exams.

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holly-opal · 13 hours

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Prompt: Some random kid (Reader) finds Mr Puzzles' head and repairs it, pretty much causing him to become their adoptive dad (since their og dad left)

(This is platonic, of course)

You pulled the red wagon carrying the broken TV to your little cabin. It was just a regular day for you, walking around seeing if you can find something useful like food, tools, some baby wipes for showering, and maybe even some lost toys or technology that could use some fixing. Looks like today day is your lucky day. Just kidding, that day will be when you actually get parents. Since your real ones abandoned you and left you to die in the slums. You carried the TV to the table and let out a hefty sigh. Goddamn that TV was heavy. You examined the TV carefully, it looks like there are no internal damages, only the screen needs fixing. Thankfully, you had just the fix! With a little bit of glass and super glue, you can fix it. You carefully put the shards of glass in, put in a nice dash of glue, and- "OUCH!" You yelled out as you felt harsh stinging in your palm. You cut yourself. Tears weld up in your eyes as you went to get the bandages, you quickly put one on you and went back to work. And you were done! Sure you got a few cuts and put a little too much super glue, but at least it works! You picked up the TV and put it down onto the floor, you sat down and started flipping through the channels. You found a nice kids channel and began watching it. You were smiling and laughing all the way, it made you forget how miserable you were, living scrap by scrap, going to bed hungry every night, anf always worrying someone will try to steal your things or hurt you.

As you were watching tho, the TV suddenly turned into static, you groaned and tried to hit the TV to get it to work. It didn't really work. You almost got up to fetch your tools, but then you heard... Crunching noises. Squishy, gooey, crunching noises. You looked at the TV and saw that it was sprouting arms, legs, a torso, an entire body. It was tall as hell, taller than any adult you have seen. The TV stopped playing static and was replaced with a face, a wide colorful smile and crazy eyes. You screamed and ran out of the room. You went into the small bedroom and went into your cot, you hid under your blanket and hugged your teddy bear tightly. You were shaking and whimpering, you shut your eyes, hoping that it won't see you and will go away. Suddenly, you were picked up by someone and you screamed, you kicked and wiggled, but it was no use. The TV man was looking at you, his eye brow raised.

"Now now, is that any way to treat your guest? Running and screaming?" He asked you. You gulped and shook your head, he laughed and set you down onto the ground. You backed away from him in fear. The TV man put his hands on his hips and looked around. "Where is the engineer that fixed me? I want to thank them!" He asked. You called down a bit, maybe if you tell him that you were the one who fixed him, he'll be grateful and not eat you alive. You pointed at yourself. "U-Um... I fixed you actually..." You said timidly. He frowned, he cocked his head at you in confusion, you internally prayed you didn't make him mad. He scoffed and walked out of your room, you followed him out. He was looking around the cabin, it was very small, and it didn't have many things in it. He seemed disgusted at the sight of your house. "Where are your parents? There is no way a child could fix a TV by themselves. And this place is awful! This is no place for a little kid!" He asked. You rubbed your arm in silence, looked away from him, remembering how your parents left you in the dumpster when you were only three years old. You had someone to take care of you, but they left you too. Nobody seemed to like being around you. They always seemed to leave you behind like a discarded doll. Something clicked in him, and he understood everything. You were an orphan.

"I.... I see..." He said with a sad tone. You went up to him and hugged his legs, you didn't mean to make him sad. He patted your head and smiled, and crouched down to your level and gave you a big, wide smile. "My name is Mr. Puzzles. And you, my dear?" He asked. You smiled back, you shrugged. That seemed to strike a nerve with Mr. Puzzles. They didn't even bother to name you? He pinched your cheek in a loving manner and picked you up, he cradled you in his long ass arms. "Well you simply must have a name! Hmmm... Which name, which name... Oh! How about Y/N?" He asked you. You nodded your head and clapped in excitement, you always wanted a name, but you could never think of one. He laughed and spun you around in a circle. He put your down and crossed his arms. "You could come with me to my studio! You wouldn't have to live here much longer, because no offense, but this place is very dirty and broken." He said. You nodded in agreement. The house was very bad. You only stayed because it gave you shelter from the rain. You grabbed your bag and started putting your stuff in it. Your tools, teddy bear, clothes, trinkets you made, etc. Once you were done packing, he picked you up and put you on his shoulders. You giggled and held his head for stability. You got a new home! And a new parental figure! This really IS your lucky day!

#smg4 mr puzzles #mr puzzles x reader #mr puzzles #puzzlevision arc #smg4 puzzlevision #smg4

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scoobydoodean · 3 days

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just saw somebody saying that cas is a pushover for dean…. obviously that’s not true. but can i have some solid evidence just to make me feel more sane?

I mean Cas's baseline state is ignoring what anyone wants him to do imo. It's just when he ignores what most people want him to do, he makes this face: 🙄

And when he ignores what Dean wants him to do, he makes this this face. 🥺

But anyway:

"You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of Hell. I can throw you back in." (4.02)

ANNA: "Uhm, guys, the angels are talking again. / SAM: What are they saying? / ANNA: It's weird. Like a recording. A loop. It says: "Dean Winchester gives us Anna by midnight, or we hurl him back to damnation." (4.10)

"[I tricked you into coming into town] Because whatever I ask [for you to turn an innocent person over to me for execution], you seem to do the exact opposite [protect them from me]." (4.15)

After kidnapping Dean to make him torture for them: "This is too much to ask, I know. But we have to ask it." (4.16)

[Kidnaps Dean and locks him up] (4.22)

[Flies away abruptly because Dean asks a question he doesn't want to answer] (5.01)

"I killed two angels this week. My brothers. I'm hunted. I rebelled. And I did it, all of it, for you, and you failed. You and your brother destroyed the world—and I lost everything, for nothing. So keep your opinions to yourself." (5.02) (Note: Cas blaming Dean for everything going wrong here is also some major bullshit).

CASTIEL: May I borrow [your amulet]? / DEAN: No. / CASTIEL: Dean. Give it to me. / DEAN: All right, I guess. (5.02)

Cas flies off to kill Jesse when Dean and Sam are in direct moral opposition. (5.06)

ANNA: I'd say the Winchesters don't trust me. / CASTIEL: They do. I don't. I wouldn't let them come. (5.13)

You're not gonna finish that? [Takes Dean's burger without waiting for an answer] (5.14)

[Kidnaps Dean and locks him up] (5.18)

"Maybe they're desperate. Maybe they wrongly assumed Dean would be brave enough to withstand them." (5.18)

[Beats the shit out of Dean in an alley] "I rebelled for this?! So that you could surrender to them?" [kidnaps Dean and locks him up again] (5.18)

DEAN: Whoa, wait. You’re gonna take on five angels? / CASTIEL: Yes. / DEAN: Isn’t that suicide? / CASTIEL: Maybe it is. But then I won’t have to watch you fail.

CASTIEL: You think I came because you called? I came because of this. [The Staff of Moses] / DEAN: Oh, well, it's nice to know what matters. / CASTIEL: It does help one to focus. (6.03)

CASTIEL: I need your help. / SAM: [ Scoffs. ] That's rich. Really. / CASTIEL: [ Grunts, tosses the jar of locusts at SAM. CASTIEL performs air quotes during this speech. ] Sam, Dean, my "people skills" are "rusty." Pardon me, but I have spent the last "year" as a multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent. But believe me, you do not want that weapon down here. Help me find it. Or more people will die.

[Flies away abruptly when Dean asks anything he doesn't want to answer] (6.03)

Cas tortures a child while Dean pleads with him not to do it (6.03).

[Yanks Dean's wrist over without asking and slices his palm open to use his blood for a spell] DEAN: Whoa, whoa! Hey! Ahh! Why don't you use your own? / CASTIEL: It wouldn't work. I'm not human.

[Flies away abruptly when Dean is mid-sentence] (6.06)

Cas ghosts Dean for days while Dean pleads for help in prayers (6.05-6.06)

Those are some moments of note up to my current rewatch episode.

Less organized but past current rewatch point some random momence:

The entire plot of season 6 where Cas is going behind their backs the whole time culminating in him refusing to let go of his plan while Dean pleads him to do just that.

Fun lil Deancas bitchy compilation set here

[Beats the shit out of Dean flies away with the angel tablet]

Refuses to come out of Purgatory

Ignores Dean's nightly prayers in Purgatory

Ignores Dean's prayers and calls all of the tiiiiiiiime sometimes for weeks

Locking Dean in the dungeon... again. (S9)

DEAN: I'm glad you're here / CAS: *Leaves* (10.03)

Keeping Demon Dean from doing demon things :(((( (10.03)

Works with Sam to decode the Book of the Damned behind Dean's back.

CAS: No fighting. / DEAN: Tell [Claire] that. / CAS: Both of you.

"YEAH you know what I like about him? It's that he's sarcastic, but he's THOUGHTFUL and APPRECIATIVE too."

"If I plan to do anything else stupid, I'll let you know."

CAS: So I should just sit here? / DEAN: Pretty much. / CAS: NO.

[Look of utter loathing] "Dean. You are NOT a talking dog." (13.16)

"At least I don't look like a lumberjack."

Steals The Colt to kill Kelly Kline when Sam and Dean want to save her -> Does a 180 into wanting to protect Kelly and still won't include Sam and Dean, instead knocking them unconscious (12.19)

Locks Sam and Dean out of the dungeon so he can torture Donatello for information (13.14)

Also: #hot girl cas. And anyway, if Cas decreases his bitchy basline tendencies to be bitchy around Dean and Dean only, and instead indulges him occasionally by doing things like dressing up like cowboys, we should be fond of this because the angel the size of a Chrysler building who has killed thousands lets Dean put him in little outfits to make him happy and there is something very cute about that.

#and cas is my best friend #mail #hot girl cas

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hollowed-theory-hall · 15 hours

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Harry was never really Dumbledore's man

So, in HBP Harry says himself:

“Well, it is clear to me that he has done a very good job on you,” said Scrimgeour, his eyes cold and hard behind his wire-rimmed glasses. “Dumbledore’s man through and through, aren’t you, Potter?” “Yeah, I am,” said Harry.

(HBP, 348)

But, I'm here to argue Harry actually has many many doubts and reservations about Dumbledore throughout all books (even HBP), and I find it interesting how Harry convinced the Wizarding world (and the readers) that he's Dumbledore's man when he isn't. Not really.

(Just makes me all the more annoyed at him calling his son Albus...)

I'm going to go through some examples of Harry showing his doubts about Dumbledore way before book 7. Because Harry is an abused, distrusting boy, and Dumbledore isn't actually an exception to that until very late into the books. And even when Harry chooses to trust Dumbledore's intentions, he never fully trusts his judgment.

“D’you think he meant you to do it?” said Ron. “Sending you your father’s cloak and everything?” “Well, ” Hermione exploded, “if he did — I mean to say that’s terrible — you could have been killed.” “No, it isn’t,” said Harry thoughtfully. “He’s a funny man, Dumbledore. I think he sort of wanted to give me a chance. I think he knows more or less everything that goes on here, you know. I reckon he had a pretty good idea we were going to try, and instead of stopping us, he just taught us enough to help. I don’t think it was an accident he let me find out how the mirror worked. It’s almost like he thought I had the right to face Voldemort if I could….”

(PS, 217)

This quote above is from the ending of Philosopher's Stone and the outlook Harry, Ron, and Hermione have on Dumbledore and his behavior is the same as seen in the later books. So I wanted to talk about each of them and how they see Dumbledore because this quote really sets the tone for the rest of the series.

Ron is doubtful and distrustful. The situation is odd, and he's clever, he analyzed the situation and came to a frightening conclusion — the whole ordeal seemed planned by Dumbledore. And Ron isn't scared of voicing this question.

Hermione, while not always a rule-follower, respects Dumbledore and his authority. A lot. So, she doesn't believe Dumbledore could've planned it as it would reflect badly on his character and authority. Hermione is a very loyal person, and once she decides she respects someone she is willfully blind to their flaws (we see it with her later in the series).

Harry, while he's clever enough to notice the same things Ron did and come to the same conclusion — that Dumbledore planned for an 11-year-old to face Voldemort — he attributes good intentions to Dumbledore. Harry sees the situation and draws his conclusions, but chooses to hope/believe Dumbledore's intentions were good ones.

Harry’s brain seemed to have jammed. He stared numbly at Riddle, at the orphaned boy who had grown up to murder Harry’s own parents, and so many others. . . . At last he forced himself to speak. “You’re not,” he said, his quiet voice full of hatred. “Not what?” snapped Riddle. “Not the greatest sorcerer in the world,” said Harry, breathing fast. “Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so. Even when you were strong, you didn’t dare try and take over at Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you’re hiding these days —” The smile had gone from Riddle’s face, to be replaced by a very ugly look. “Dumbledore’s been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!” he hissed. “He’s not as gone as you might think!” Harry retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to scare Riddle, wishing rather than believing it to be true —

(CoS, 282)

This is one of the scenes people call to to show how much faith Harry has in Dumbledore (even Dumbledore himself), the thing is, Harry says (in his mind) he's just saying things to try and scare Tom. To try and buy time, or unbalance Tom so he may have a chance at escape.

The important note is that Harry doesn't actually believe what he's saying to Tom. He's just saying what he thinks would bother Tom the most.

Harry had never shared this piece of information with anybody. He was very fond of his wand, and as far as he was concerned its relation to Voldemort’s wand was something it couldn’t help — rather as he couldn’t help being related to Aunt Petunia. However, he really hoped that Mr. Ollivander wasn’t about to tell the room about it. He had a funny feeling Rita Skeeter’s Quick-Quotes Quill might just explode with excitement if he did.

(GoF, 310)

This part about telling no one about his wand's connection to Voldemort is true. He never told anyone by that point in GoF. Not Ron, not Hermione, not Dumbledore, not even Sirius.

As I mentioned above, Harry is abused and distrustful. He's not at all Dumbledore's perfect soldier who trusts him with everything. In GoF, Harry decides against telling Dumbledore about his dreams and the pain in his scar:

“Your scar hurt? Harry, that’s really serious. . . . Write to Professor Dumbledore! And I’ll go and check Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions. . . . Maybe there’s something in there about curse scars. . . .” Yes, that would be Hermione’s advice: Go straight to the headmaster of Hogwarts, and in the meantime, consult a book. [...] As for informing the headmaster, Harry had no idea where Dumbledore went during the summer holidays. He amused himself for a moment, picturing Dumbledore, with his long silver beard, fulllength wizard’s robes, and pointed hat, stretched out on a beach somewhere, rubbing suntan lotion onto his long crooked nose. Wherever Dumbledore was, though, Harry was sure that Hedwig would be able to find him; Harry’s owl had never yet failed to deliver a letter to anyone, even without an address. But what would he write? Dear Professor Dumbledore, Sorry to bother you, but my scar hurt this morning. Yours sincerely, Harry Potter. Even inside his head the words sounded stupid.

(GoF, 21)

Harry doesn't wish to share secrets with Dumbledore, nor does he feel comfortable to go to him with his troubles (his go-to adult while Sirius was around was always Sirius). Again, Hermione is mentioned as the one who trusts Dumbledore's authority, in Harry's head, but he's right, he knows her well.

Harry actually spends a good portion of the series purposefully trying to hide information from Dumbledore. (I'm saying 'trying ' because Dumbledore always found out, but not because Harry told him).

“He seemed to think it was best,” said Hermione rather breathlessly. “Dumbledore, I mean.” “Right,” said Harry. He noticed that her hands too bore the marks of Hedwig’s beak and found that he was not at all sorry. “I think he thought you were safest with the Muggles —” Ron began. “Yeah?” said Harry, raising his eyebrows. “Have either of you been attacked by dementors this summer?” “Well, no — but that’s why he’s had people from the Order of the Phoenix tailing you all the time -” Harry felt a great jolt in his guts as though he had just missed a step going downstairs. So everyone had known he was being followed except him. “Didn’t work that well, though, did it?” said Harry, doing his utmost to keep his voice even. “Had to look after myself after all, didn’t I?” “He was so angry,” said Hermione in an almost awestruck voice. “Dumbledore. We saw him. When he found out Mundungus had left before his shift had ended. He was scary.” “Well, I’m glad he left,” Harry said coldly. “If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t have done magic and Dumbledore would probably have left me at Privet Drive all summer.”

(OotP, 63)

Harry is angry here, true, but he doubts Dumbledore's idea of what's "safe" for him. He's actually glad for the dementors because he doubts Dumbledore would've brought him over if it wasn't an emergency.

And Harry is right to be doubtful and suspicious. He's right that he's less safe at the Dursleys than at Grimmauld Place. He's right to feel angry and betrayed at literally everyone knowing he's being followed except for him. He's right Dumbledore probably wouldn't have brought him if it wasn't for the dementor attack. Harry is correct in each and every one of his assessments of Dumbledore's character and decisions here.

“No,” said Harry, shaking his head. “It’s more like . . . his mood, I suppose. I’m just getting flashes of what mood he’s in. . . . Dumbledore said something like this was happening last year. . . . He said that when Voldemort was near me, or when he was feeling hatred, I could tell. Well, now I’m feeling it when he’s pleased too. . . .” There was a pause. The wind and rain lashed at the building. “You’ve got to tell someone,” said Ron. “I told Sirius last time.” “Well, tell him about this time!” “Can’t, can I?” said Harry grimly. “Umbridge is watching the owls and the fires, remember?” “Well then, Dumbledore —” “I’ve just told you, he already knows,” said Harry shortly, getting to his feet, taking his cloak off his peg, and swinging it around himself. “There’s no point telling him again.” Ron did up the fastening of his own cloak, watching Harry thoughtfully. “Dumbledore’d want to know,” he said. Harry shrugged. “C’mon . . . we’ve still got Silencing Charms to practice . . .”

(OotP, 382)

Remember I mentioned Harry hiding things from Dumbledore? This is one of such occasions. There are more in GoF that I didn't copy, but this is an example of Voldemort-related, dangerous information Harry is hiding from Dumbledore because he doesn't trust him and doesn't feel comfortable telling him things.

“It’s lessons with Snape that are making it worse,” said Harry flatly. “I’m getting sick of my scar hurting, and I’m getting bored walking down that corridor every night.” He rubbed his forehead angrily. “I just wish the door would open, I’m sick of standing staring at it —” “That’s not funny,” said Hermione sharply. “Dumbledore doesn’t want you to have dreams about that corridor at all, or he wouldn’t have asked Snape to teach you Occlumency. You’re just going to have to work a bit harder in your lessons.” “I am working!” said Harry, nettled. “You try it sometime, Snape trying to get inside your head, it’s not a bundle of laughs, you know!” “Maybe . . .” said Ron slowly. “Maybe what?” said Hermione rather snappishly. “Maybe it’s not Harry’s fault he can’t close his mind,” said Ron darkly. “What do you mean?” said Hermione. “Well, maybe Snape isn’t really trying to help Harry. . . .” Harry and Hermione stared at him. Ron looked darkly and meaningfully from one to the other. “Maybe,” he said again in a lower voice, “he’s actually trying to open Harry’s mind a bit wider . . . make it easier for You-Know —” “Shut up, Ron,” said Hermione angrily. “How many times have you suspected Snape, and when have you ever been right? Dumbledore trusts him, he works for the Order, that ought to be enough.” “He used to be a Death Eater,” said Ron stubbornly. “And we’ve never seen proof that he really swapped sides. . . .” “Dumbledore trusts him,” Hermione repeated. “And if we can’t trust Dumbledore, we can’t trust anyone.”

(OotP, 554)

Again we see the same exact dynamic from first year. Hermione is loyal to Dumbledore, not even considering he might be wrong about something, or not have their best interests at heart. Ron and Harry on the other hand, are both open to the possibility that things aren't so simple. They don't think Dumbledore is intentionally harming Harry, but they think he's wrong about Snape. Something Hermione, Arthur and Molly would never consider.

(This is actually the most annoying thing in Hermione's character for me, her unshakable faith in Dumbledore, who doesn't deserve her trust)

“. . . so you see what this means?” Harry finished at a gallop. “Dumbledore won’t be here tonight, so Malfoy’s going to have another clear shot at whatever he’s up to. No, listen to me!” he hissed angrily, as both Ron and Hermione showed every sign of interrupting. “I know it was Malfoy celebrating in the Room of Requirement. Here —” He shoved the Marauder’s Map into Hermione’s hands. “You’ve got to watch him and you’ve got to watch Snape too. Use anyone else who you can rustle up from the D.A., Hermione, those contact Galleons will still work, right? Dumbledore says he’s put extra protection in the school, but if Snape’s involved, he’ll know what Dumbledore’s protection is, and how to avoid it — but he won’t be expecting you lot to be on the watch, will he?” “Harry —” began Hermione, her eyes huge with fear.

(HBP, 552)

Even in book 6, the book Harry grows the most comfortable and trusting towards Dumbledore, even then, he doesn't trust Dumbledore. He thinks (and somewhat rightly so because he doesn't know of Snape and Dumbledore's plan) that Dumbledore is wrong about Snape. that Dumbledore is wrong about Malfoy. Harry doesn't trust that whatever protections Dumbledore would leave would be enough (and they weren't).

Even at the end of HBP, the point in the series where Harry has the most faith in Dumbledore, Harry still doesn't trust Dumbledore's judgment or his ability to protect the school. Even after Dumbledore calls Harry out on it, telling him the safety of the students is important to him, Harry still tells Ron and Hermione to get the DA to protect the school without notifying Dumbledore.

And Dumbledore raised Harry to feel responsible for the school's safety, Harry is doing what he was "bred" to do. But he does it behind Dumbledore's back, because like every adult, Harry deep down expects to be let down. After all, he's used to saving the school himself.

So, no, Harry never really trusted Dumbledore fully. At least, not Dumbledore's judgment. Harry does believe Dumbledore's intentions are good for the most part, even if ineffective.

“He never told me his sister was a Squib,” said Harry, without thinking, still cold inside. “And why on earth would he tell you?” screeched Muriel, swaying a little in her seat as she attempted to focus upon Harry [...] Where was saintly Albus while Ariana was locked in the cellar? Off being brilliant at Hogwarts, and never mind what was going on in his own house!” “What d’you mean, locked in the cellar?” asked Harry. “What is this?” Doge looked wretched. Auntie Muriel cackled again and answered Harry. [...] Numbly Harry thought of how the Dursleys had once shut him up, locked him away, kept him out of sight, all for the crime of being a wizard. Had Dumbledore’s sister suffered the same fate in reverse: imprisoned for her lack of magic? Had Dumbledore truly left her to her fate while he went off to Hogwarts to prove himself brilliant and talented?

(DH, 135-137)

And in Deathley Hollows, Harry is very quick to start questioning and doubting Dumbledore. Especially when compared to Hermione:

“Harry—” But he shook his head. Some inner certainty had crashed down inside him; it was exactly as he had felt after Ron left. He had trusted Dumbledore, believed him the embodiment of goodness and wisdom. All was ashes: How much more could he lose? Ron, Dumbledore, the phoenix wand . . . “Harry.” She seemed to have heard his thoughts. “Listen to me. It—it doesn’t make very nice reading—” “Yeah, you could say that—” “—but don’t forget, Harry this is Rita Skeeter writing.” “You did read that letter to Grindelwald, didn’t you?” “Yes, I—I did.” She hesitated, looking upset, cradling her tea in her cold hands.

(DH, 311)

Harry is hurt, he feels betrayed, because while he never 100% trusted Dumbledore's judgment, he trusted his intentions. He trusted Dumbledore was good and cared for him. He feels cold and betrayed, showing trust in his intentions. But his readiness to accept Skeeter's and Muriel's accusations so quickly shows he always had his doubts about Dumbledore and they never really left, even if he wanted to trust him, he never did, not fully.

Hermione, on the other hand, who was always loyal and trusted Dumbledore (both his intentions and judgment) 100%, tries to rationalize Dumbledore's actions and convince herself everyone who says bad things about him is lying.

Harry doesn't. Because out of the Golden Trio, Hermione was always Dumbledore's woman, Ron and Harry... not really. Not as much.

“That old berk,” muttered Aberforth, taking another swig of mead. “Thought the sun shone out of my brother’s every office, he did. Well, so did plenty of people, you three included, by the looks of it.” Harry kept quiet. He did not want to express the doubts and uncertainties about Dumbledore that had riddled him for months now. He had made his choice while he dug Dobby’s grave, he had decided to continue along the winding, dangerous path indicated for him by Albus Dumbledore, to accept that he had not been told everything that he wanted to know, but simply to trust. He had no desire to doubt again; he did not want to hear anything that would deflect him from his purpose. He met Aberforth’s gaze, which was so strikingly like his brothers’: The bright blue eyes gave the same impression that they were X-raying the object of their scrutiny, and Harry thought that Aberforth knew what he was thinking and despised him for it. “Professor Dumbledore cared about Harry, very much,” said Hermione in a low voice. “Did he now?” said Aberforth. “Funny thing how many of the people my brother cared about very much ended up in a worse state than if he’d left ’em well alone.”

(DH, 478)

More of how Harry thinks about Dumbledore, showing, again, how he always had his doubts and reservations but he chooses to trust Dumbledore's intentions because otherwise, he doesn't think he has any hope to defeat Voldemort. He chooses to keep following Dumbledore's path because he has no real choice but to trust what he sees as the only path that'll lead to Voldemort's destruction. But Harry has plenty of doubts about Dumbledore.

Hermione, on the other hand, has little to no doubts. She doesn't allow herself to doubt.

And this pattern, of Harry doubting Dumbledore again and again, never truly trusting him, just trusting his plan will kill Voldemort... like, how does that lead Harry to want to name his kid 'Albus'? I just don't get it...

TL;DR

Harry likes to say he's Dumbledore's man, but he always had his reservations, even when he choose to ignore them since trusting Dumbledore's plan felt like his only chance at survival. Hermione is much more trusting of Dumbledore than Harry is.

#harry potter #hp #harry potter thoughts #hp thoughts #harry potter meta #hp meta #hollowedtheory #hp theory #harry james potter #harry potter analysis #albus dumbledore

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jujutsukgojo · 1 day

Text

My gifts to you

feitan portor x reader

Summary: You knew him for years for only moments at a time. Yet, you take it upon yourself to love and mourn him anyway, even when the world won't. tw: light smut, slight yandere feitan, spoilers, mentions of murder, light angst, fluff(?), injuries, cheating, time skips an: didn't mean for it to be this long. Feitan is a bit tricky for me but oh well :) kind of inspired by criminal minds 'no way out'. 10.8k

“If you tie it like this, it should stay, okay?” You tap the boy’s foot. Although he is smaller than you in height, his feet are bigger. It’s quite comical but you don’t dare laugh. In this blasted city, you’d be bound to die for such a thing. Especially if you laugh at someone with crazy hair and carries a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire.

He says something in a foreign language that you can’t understand. If you are correct, it may be inverted Japanese. In the books that one kid collects, there is a country, Japan, where the common language originates. Since the common language isn’t his mother tongue, it makes you wonder where he’s from and why he’s here.

The boy stands up to his full, but short, height. You sit on random rubble and look up at him, waiting for what he’ll do next. Will he call over Phinks or even bring Uvogin? He hangs out with Phinks mainly but who knows these days.

Instead of swinging the bat at you or calling over his friends, he pats your head awkwardly. You don’t make any sudden movements or noises. The boy leaves right after. A sigh escapes your lips after he leaves you behind.

What's his name again? Feitain?

__________

In your hut, you slightly stir the food that sizzles in the pan you found. It’s rare to come across tomatoes and eggs but you managed this time. The smell is mouth watering. You hope no one else can smell it.

As much as you want to live elsewhere, this is what you settle for at the moment. In another world, you’d be out of this city and somewhere clean and safe. Like the church or something. No, even better than the church. You’ve heard of the outside where there are bright flashing lights and diamonds and pearls on people’s necks. There are flowers of all colors out there. Different shapes, smells, and meanings, they’re all beautiful. You hear that food isn’t scavenged but bought or given to people without a price.

People said they’ve seen the safety of children your age that play without a care. There are parents for the lost kids and doctors for the injured. Clean clothes and showers on the regular. You can even see the sun clearly and the big, round moon that doesn't bring out the wolves in men.

There are pastors and priests that don’t turn people away, either. Hell, you have even wondered if there were schools there that allow everyone to get in. You're sure that you are reading and doing math wrong. How embarrassing.

Finally done, you place the food on a plastic plate you found. You made sure to wipe the grime off the plate and rinsed it with clean water before using it. Even though you can just eat out of the pan, you want to seem sophisticated like the outside. They don't eat out of pans or use dirty plates.

The food steams and is welcoming. Without a lot of utensils, you pick at it with your hands. It burns at first but you’re too hungry. The flavor bursts in your mouth. Even without the proper seasonings, it’s still heaven. You haven’t eaten in a while so you’ll take what you can get.

Suddenly, the boy, Feitan, enters your hut. You gasp and protectively cover your food. He brings his foot out. His shoe, which he stole, is untied again. You swallow the substance and point out, “I taught you how to tie them.”

“Tie.”

“I taught you.” You set your plate down.

“Tie.” You roll your eyes and pat your thighs. He walks over to you and places his dirt caked shoe on your lap. Slowly, you tie them.

“There, see? Come on now, you need to learn. A little boy can’t grow without tying his shoes.”

“I’m not little boy.” You give a breathy chuckle. “Of course you are, honey.”

He leans in close to your face. “I’m older than you.”

...He does hang out with Phinks, who is a couple years older than you. In fact, it is rare to see them apart. Is it possible that it’s true? Is Phinks the type to be friends with someone who is younger?

Curious, you ask, “Then why are you so short?” His eyes widened in shock. Then, strangely, he laughs while patting your head harshly. Studying his face revealed what looks like the beginning of a sinister smile.

He looks at your plate and sits down in front of you. You’re both on the dirt floor.

“Give me.” You scoff and snap at him. “No! Find your own!”

The little beast decided that the two of you should ‘share’. He smacks on his food, making you want to punch him repeatedly. He’s gaunt and bony, but not really bad like last time. His face has a tiny bit of roundness to it.

“Stop staring.” He inhales a tomato. “You look better than last time.”

“Better?” He cocks his head to the side. The remnants of the tomato smeared a little on his cheek.

“Yeah, healthier.” He stares at you for a second. “Thanks.” His accent is thick, and you still can’t place it. Nevertheless, you understand. Afterwards, much to your surprise, he sleeps in your hut now that his belly is full. Satisfied and strangely not afraid, you follow suit. It’s nice to have a friend, however strange.

You are barely awake, sleep still heavy in your eyes, when you see him pop up. Drool is crusted on his cheek, and he rubs his eyes. He yawns and then spots you next to him. Feitan eyes the entry of the hut then back at you. He puts the only cover you have on you then pets your head.

Before he leaves, he places his bat in your hand. Feitan secures the entry as he exits the hut.

_____________

It’s been years since you and Feitan have talked. You've gotten familiar with him but when Sarasa had died in such a disrespectful and gruesome way, he withdrew. In the meantime, you waited for him and studied a power you discovered. No matter the eyes that were always on you, you didn’t care about the mysterious and hidden audience.

You don’t know what it’s called but it started when you witnessed some kid about to get her ass handed to her by some thugs. The man had moved a pair of scissors without using his hands. They aimed right towards her and in a moment of instinct, you rushed to push her out of the way. Unfortunately, the scissors stabbed you in the shoulder.

It was then did you feel the rush of a force so strong, that it knocked everyone away from you. A faint white light that glowed from your skin that only your eyes could see. As you looked around in shock, you saw that same glow coming from that man and his friends.

You were gasping when you fell to your knees. “I-I’m sorry. I can’t be here!” The girl your age ran for her life and left you behind. In a moment of fear, you call out to her to help you. You were so afraid; you couldn't tell if the screams were hers or yours. Given the situation, you were too rattled, terrified and hurt, to focus.

The men shook for a second then got up to face you. The blood from your shoulder wasn’t stopping its flow. Crimson red stained your clothes and the ground. It was all so strange, such an unusual feeling of adrenaline that you couldn’t help but memorize. Almost as if the world had finally made sense. Every single thing became so much clearer to your dismay.

The men came towards you with malicious intent. While putting pressure on your injury, you managed to kick one of their legs, causing them to buckle and hurt his knee. He screamed in agony.

“G-get away!” You try to stand. The press of your hand on the wound isn’t helping. Is it supposed to bleed this much? It hit your shoulder, but did it nick something?

You need to stop it, to heal and get away from them. In this city, people like you are in danger from men like them. If you don’t get away, you’ll end up like Sarasa. She was never really close to you. She was a nice girl who always looked for video tapes, so you'd help her from time to time. Yet, her death scarred everyone since it was so close to home. And now, you no doubt are facing the exact same situation. Wrong place, wrong time.

Same fate.

You fell back on the ground and looked at the sky. It has always been so dirty, just like the city due to pollution. Still so young, you know you won’t see what it really looks like. In the corner of your eye, you spot something green. A small clover with four leaves.

One time, an old man told a story of how four-leaf clovers are a sign of good luck. By the intense feeling and pressure of your eyes, you know it’s not true. Pain in all ways makes tears fall from your eyes. Lips wobbling at how unfair everything is and that you will never see the sun. The outside must really be heaven, and for someone so young who hasn’t committed a sin, you are wondering if you can go.

Suddenly, flowers that you never knew blossomed around you. The soft petals touched your filthy skin and got rid of the aches. The blood on your shoulder faded from view as well as the pain. A soft and beautiful hum whispered in your ear. You truly believed it to be in your head, an imagination of paradise as you leave. Heaven, they call it. You must be close to the outside world then.

This must be it, you thought. There was no pain from a strike or fear. Just closed eyes and peace. Something you know you couldn’t get in the atrocious city.

It ends. You were shocked as the beautiful flowers disappeared. Heaven, would you reject someone?

The men didn’t hurt you. The one whose knee was broken was able to move his leg. His red hair kind of glowed in the sun, and brown eyes were wide. He muttered a soft ‘thank you’ and walked away without a limp. His friends followed.

After that, you had realized that your ability wasn’t anything like scissors or something scary. It was to heal and be healed.

Although after immediately learning this, you didn't go out of your way to find the source of the screams in the direction the people went. First was the girl, then the group of men. After what you went through, it didn't seem like a good idea.

Feitan, somehow, got wind of it. Now in his later teen years you both estimate, he sits still and points to his arm. There’s a gnarly gash oozing blood. You wonder how he’s not feeling this and if he is, how he isn’t even fazed.

You gently pick up his arm and inspect it. He's thin but has clear definition in his arms. You haven’t seen him in so long that you are surprised by his growth. Hell, he’s taller now. Still short, but at least he grew.

In a jar, you take a premade petal. This is a way for you to save energy and reach people when you physically can’t tend to. Acting as a pill, you make sure that people can get infections out. For some reason, illnesses and infections are particularly tricky and tiring for you.

“Eat this, Feitan.” He frowns. “No.” You sigh. “It’s infected. You need to eat this so I can heal it right.”

“It’s not.”

Rolling your eyes you bring his wound to his face. “This, this is infected. It's literally oozing pus.” How long did this go on? Was he really that hesitant to just come and see you?

He growls and takes the delicate petal and places it in his mouth. “Stop pouting.”

“Not pouting. It’s nasty.” He’s not wrong. It has a bitter taste and when chewed, a slimy texture. The color of the disintegrating petal leaves a stain in the mouth as well. If not for the benefits, no one would even bother. They'd be just as offended as Feitan.

The pus stops and clears up. “Alright, this’ll leave a scar.”

You blow on your hand so that flowing blossoms surround him. Beautiful shades of pink and white go through his hair. With a gentle caress, you see the flurries touch his wound. It starts to encourage his own healing.

As much as you want to do the full thing, you’re tired. All day you’ve been working and collecting payments. Not to mention facing the disappointment of them being useless. You want to kick yourself for not getting paid first. But the sight of those grateful people and healed kids softens your heart.

Soon, it stops once the injury becomes manageable. You’re about to wrap it when a hand stops you. “What’s this?”

“Feitan, I'm tired. You caught me at a bad time.” You try to move your hand but he stops you. He's a lot stronger than you remember. “Heal.”

His fluency isn’t the greatest still.

“I’m tired! Just let it heal the rest of the way.” No matter how much you try to yank your hand away, his grip is too strong. “Please, Feitan...”

Surprisingly, he lets go and from what you can see, the subtle white glow appears and heals him the rest of the way, leaving small flames. “Feitan...what was that?”

He rolls his eyes and plops down on a chair. He says nothing and just relaxes, or at least that’s what he’s trying to make it seem like. It has been a while since you’ve seen him, but that doesn’t make you blind to his behaviors…sometimes.

“As a transmuter, I can heal a little by using enhancer,” He looks at you suspiciously. “You know nothing about nen?”

“Nen?” You put the gauze and other items in a black bag. It was found in the safe zone by the church. Apparently, it belonged to a doctor from the outside. The bag had all kinds of necessities. Gauze, medicine, some syringes, disinfectant, a thermometer, all kinds of stuff that you’ve had to use sparingly. What you save in the bag, you make up for with your ability.

He smacks his lips and calls you a ‘dumb brat’. “You use nen but don’t know it?”

Sighing, you ask, “What is nen, Feitan?”

“What you do. Use your aura and stuff.” His arms are crossed, and he looks at you expectantly. You gather that he likes knowing things you don’t. It’s like a weak power trip.

But it is nice to finally have a name and explanation for it. And that’s what he did this time. Visiting you for a moment just to pick with you while teaching you something you should have known.

“Wait, if you could do that, why’d you come here?” He just shrugs.

------

When you see him again, he brings his friends along. You immediately recognize some of them. Phinks, who ran with Feitan, the boy who always collected books, and Uvogin, the giant who was always claiming territory and beating people up.

Feitan should be twenty now. It’s hard to tell since he looks youthful. He points to his friend, the boy with the books, and orders, “Heal.”

“You can do it, Feitan, remember?” You were in the middle of cleaning when he and the rest of his posse pop up. They look flustered and a little worse for wear.

“Heal.” He always does crap like this. You roll your eyes at first. The body they carry tugs on your strings a bit.

“Fine. Put him on the table.” Thankfully, it’s cleaned, and a new wrapping has been placed on it. Gently, the man is put on it. You spot the cross tattoo on his forehead. Ah, that’s where Feitan has been. Lately, there’s been whispers of the Phantom Troupe. Merciless killers and thieves from Meteor City that have been gaining respect over the years. Your opinion of them isn’t the greatest but it also isn’t the worst. You appreciate them for standing up for Meteor City, but their methods are questionable.

You sigh and begin to undress the boy with the cross. “Is that necessary?”

You continue to pull off his clothes, not bothering to answer the question the girl asked. If she can’t understand why you need to remove his clothes, then that’s on her. She scoffs after another female voice answers her question.

You finally see his wound. Feitan can heal himself to a degree, but you don’t think this guy can. The gash is deep and sewed with makeshift stitches. There’s no nen involved, surprisingly. Given that Feitan is an avid user, you thought his friends would be keen on it too.

“He’s a specialist. Enhancer techniques are harder for him.” Phinks spoke. He must've understood your confusion.

“And the stitches?” You gently investigate the area. It’s an angry red around it and, like you suspected, infected. It wasn’t properly taken care of. You begin to remove the stitches. You wonder what the thread is made of and how long this has been going on.

“He,” Phinks points to Uvogin. “And him,” He then points to another large man with long ears. “Thought they could do it. Normally, Machi heals us but they were away from her. Her stitches would have helped him but not any infections.”

“Ah, well this requires more than I thought.” You touch the ground and out comes a beautiful swirl of flowers. Underneath the moving petals is a blooming sunflower. It picks the guy up so he rests on it. The bed of the flower glows softly and becomes warm. His once wincing face is now peaceful. His injury is slowly closing and the red is beginning to turn pink.

“The downside of this is that it takes a while. It’ll be all healed up in about an hour or so.”

“ An hour?” Uvogin, who has abandoned his afro and traded it for long standing hair. “Feitan, I thought you said she was good? We could’ve gone to that one guy and got it done right then and there.”

“She’s the best. Wait.” His hands are in his pockets and he moves. Feitan looks around and touches whatever he pleases. You try not to focus on his compliment. You wonder if the reason he moved from your line of sight is because he got embarrassed. If so, you won’t tease him. The Troupe are killers, afterall.

You start to feel the weight of your nen. This technique requires more effort than the others. Feitan explained it to you but you never did get the hang of it. You just know what to do instinctively. You were proud that you could do any of this without a teacher.

What you’re sure of is that this man, whatever his name is, is giving you a crap ton of money after this or there’ll be hell to pay.

You feel something tickling the side of your face. The wrapper is red and unopened. You take the energy bard gratefully. “Thank you, Feitan.”

A couple of the Troupe members complain about the time. Machi or Mochi or whatever, the pink haired one, especially complains and criticizes for some reason. You have never seen this person before in your life yet here she is pouting.

“You okay?” You see the blond boy with big blue eyes study you closely. He moves closer to your face. A smile never leaves his face. Before you can answer, Feitan, who hasn’t left your side since you ate the bar, answers for you.

“She’s fine. I’m watching her.”

You hear a couple of snickers. Feitan glares daggers at the offenders. You take a deep breath and ignore the friends who decided to crowd inside your hut. The boy with the forehead tattoo lies peacefully. Although you are running out of steam, his wound is healing nicely. One of the women, you believe it’s Pakunoda, comes to you and bends down.

“Can I get you anything?” You discover that your throat is absolutely parched. “Some water, please.”

If you remember correctly, the last you saw of her was when her head was shaved and some outsider kid did it. She had always kept it short. And now, it’s on her shoulders and very sleek. Over the years she’s drastically changed.

You drink the water, which to your surprise, is clean. “Hey, how did this happen anyway?”

“Don’t ask questions.” Feitan quickly shuts you down. Before you can ask anything more, you notice the entire group of friends are quiet.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, okay?” You nod at the blonde boy with blue eyes and a permanent smile. Completing the hour, the tattoo guy is up. He’s immediately impressed. “My name’s Chrollo Lucilfer. Yours?” He puts out his hand for you to shake.

“Yeah, the book collector-theater nerd-kid, right? My name’s-” Before you can even answer, Feitan does it for you.

He gives your name and how your Nen works. He’s quick with it, too. You side eye Feitan for a second. “Thanks, Feitan. I, uh, really needed a spokesperson.”

“Ah, I guess it can’t be helped then, Feitan?” There’s tension in the air. It’s thick and heavy. By the looks of it, neither one is backing down. “Um, it’s not a big deal that he answered for me, you do know that, right?”

Seconds pass through this. You look around for anyone to intervene with this. Whatever the hell is going on, it’s deep. “Since Fei explained it, why not have her join?”

“Positions are filled.” Chrollo still stares directly into Feitan’s eyes. Phinks nervously chuckles, once again trying to defuse the situation. “Fei, come on. No fighting. Right boss?”

Suddenly, it’s lifted. Chrollo has what looks like a practiced smile on his face. “That’s true. That’s a rule.”

Chrollo takes a glance at you. “She obviously means a lot to you. Clearly, she’s an asset, too.”

“I’m right here, jackass.” Feitan smacks you on the head. “I’ll handle her.”

The others sigh in relief. Momentarily, you’re a little offended. “It was nice meeting you.”

They exit your hut right after, leaving Feitan behind. “So. those were your friends, huh?”

“Watch tongue.” You smack your lips and roll your eyes. There is blood on the floor and on the table. The furniture is in disarray due to all of his friends having no home training. “I haven’t seen you in forever and this is how you greet me?”

He frowns. “I say hello all the time.” You turn to him. “When? I didn’t see you.”

Feitan huffs and kicks the ground lightly. You get up to move the furniture back to place. Your movements are slow and everything seems so much heavier. Everything is swirling right before your eyes. Your head hurts and yet feels so light. Before you meet the ground, Feitan takes you to the couch and lays you down.

“I haven’t seen you in so long, little boy…” Those were the last words you say before you drift to sleep.

Hours later, you wake up at the sound of birds. There is a beautiful blue blanket on you with golden yellow designs. It’s thick and so warm you could stay forever. You’ve never owned anything like this.

Slowly you get up and search for Feitan. He’s nowhere to be found much to your dismay. Last night’s conversation still stays with you. He insisted that he says hello all the time. That he sees you regularly, yet, you haven’t seen him at all.

The blanket, the wind chime, the medical supplies, the various decorations with stones, paint and if you weren’t smart, you’d say gold. Could Feitan have been the one to give you gifts? Silently watching over you and in his own way, saying hello? You have felt like you were being watched for years.

____________

“Do you understand why I didn’t welcome you?”

“No, and I never will. Now please, leave me alone.” You feel convicted by turning a man of God away, but can he truly be one when he left a child to suffer? You were in the cold, wind, and rain, alone in one of the worst parts of the city. All you had was Feitan, and he was there once in a blue moon. After the rejection from the church, you took it upon yourself to care for others as no one had ever cared for you. Although hurt and afraid, you chose not to spread that toxicity. You decided that no matter the size of change, it still works.

However, you will not fall prey to the same people. For instance, that girl you saved and this priest. How can he expect your services with no repentance or atonement? You forgive, but like hell will you forget.

Damn…you were so sure you were over the pain of your past. That the change you made within yourself and how you treat people so no one else suffers like you, would stick. Alas, all it takes is one person to bring it down. You want to kick yourself because of the regression. Then again, the hostility isn’t your fault.

You walk into the hallway with small statues, stone walls, and large windows. The sun shines brightly through them, making the church seem prettier than it is.

“Please-”

“She said no.” Feitan stands with his hands in his pockets, the sun shining on his pale skin. It has been a few months since the incident with Chrollo. You haven’t seen any of them but have felt eyes on you, which you have deduced was Feitan. However, you learned the truth of the blanket. The name stitched on it belonged to an old clan, the Kurta, that was mutilated, tortured, and murdered by the Phantom Troupe. It disgusts you. The blanket is comfortable but still.

Feitan, the boy who you taught to tie his shoes, gave you a trophy of his crime. You wanted to burn it, or bury it in the memory of the Kurta, yet you couldn’t. It’s a gift from the one consistent person in your life. Your protector and giver. So, you folded it and put it in a box.

Now, here he is like he’s done nothing wrong. Defending you and putting the man that’s been with the city for ages in his place. You’re shocked at his behavior.

“Feitan, surely you must understand!”

“Shut up.” Father Rizole took a step back in surprise. Feitan was one of his regulars, if you remember correctly. This must be a surprise for the aging priest.

You hum at the scene. Even though the rumors of what the Troupe has done bothers you, it doesn’t mean you aren’t opposed to the benefits. The priest backs up and sighs.

“If you ever reconsider, please, let me know. We could use your help.”

“I could’ve used it too.” You end the conversation there and leave. Feitan soon follows you. He’s silent on his feet and very fast. Feitan was behind you but his quick feet caught up in less than a second. Now, he walks right at your side.

“So, you just decide when you want to see me?”

Feitan shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Sighing, you turn to him and ask, “What do you need this time?” The lower half of his face is hiding under a plain cowl now. His eyes show all of the emotion needed. “I just hang out.”

The sun is too hot for this nonsense. Sweat trickles down your face and back, becoming sticky. “So that’s why you’re here, right? I’m shocked.”

Before he can say your name, you continue. “Oh! And let's not forget the little massacre that took place, huh? Yeah, being used to heal your friend from that was really fun.”

“I didn’t.”

You roll your eyes. “No, just that one guy. That’s who to you, again?”

“Boss.” You scoff at his short answer. Then, you think about the possibility. “Your boss? Then…doing that to the Kurta, wasn’t your idea, was it?”

“No, not mine.” His hands remain in his pockets. His hair blows in the wind slightly. You realize he hasn’t gotten a haircut in a while.

“If you could, you know, go back in time…would you still do it?”

“Yes.” No hesitation, no thought put into the answer. Just a plain as day answer and a tone that leaves no room for an explanation.

“So whatever he wants he just gets? As long as it aligns with your twisted mind, right?”

His eyes grow darker. “I save you.”

You point to the church. “No, no you didn’t. That guy wasn’t going to do anything to me. I had it handled.”

Shaking your head, you go to leave until a hand wraps around your wrist. “Boss takes nen. I didn’t let him.”

Was that what that was? That tension that day that was suffocating? Remembering that day, you start to form pieces. “Would he hurt you if you didn’t go along with his schemes?”

“No.”

Well there goes that idea. “Nevermind.”

You try to yank your wrist from his grip, but it’s iron tight. “Let me go!”

“I protect you, always. Bad people here, everywhere. I get dirty for you.” His face is indifferent but his words give it away. The plea for you to understand and realize, dare you say, his devotion to his friends. Does this include you?

Is that what it is? What friendship, this connection is? You are aware of the deeds the Troupe do. You understand why they thought it would be a good idea (somewhat anyway).

“Thank you, then.” He lets go of your wrist which was grabbed painfully tight. He trades that in for holding your hand instead. You are shocked at first, but if you make it a big deal, he’ll stop. You don’t want him to right now.

Not when you feel safe. You still want to kick yourself… and maybe throw in a punch.

_____

Apparently, the Troupe have gone their separate ways for now. They don’t cling onto each other for a long period of time after a job. It’s better that way since it has a lesser chance of them getting caught. They still hang out from time to time, though.

For you, you managed to get out of Meteor City after the argument with the priest. Feitan had gone to do another heist with Phinks, if you remember right. You took that moment to skip town. You never wanted to stay in the trash, anyway.

And you were right to! Everything you thought of as a child about the world outside was true! Sure, people can be rude and things can be corrupt, but you’re fed and resting. There are bright lights and kind people. It can be clean and the soap smells so good. Just the other day you got to experience a nail salon. Rather than stealing from you, the lady next to you, Jade, talked about her family. Her daughter is Ruby and her wife is Scarlet. Jade and Scarlet want another child. You offered the name Emerald.

In Meteor City, you would’ve had to fight. Now, you are making friends and offering beautiful names. It’s a stark contrast that is fully welcomed.

The sun is bright and the moon is sometimes round. It doesn’t always attract evil and can sometimes sing such a beautiful melody. There are pearls and diamonds. There are seasonings that make the food taste unbelievably good. It’s all expensive, but infinitely better than Meteor.

And Nen is a secret here. In the city, many knew about it and used it without discretion. Here it’s different. Like a secret identity for a hero. Your nen in particular isn’t used as much as it was before. Your ability was so tiring. Pretty and incredibly useful, but exhausting nonetheless.

It has been a few years since you saw him, but he’s seen you. He found you quickly, too. When you came home from your office job (which you are still ecstatic about, by the way) you noticed a new painting in your house. It was dull and in black and white. The painting is of a few plants that take the center stage. Actually, they’re your nen plants. In the background is what looks like your old city. Piles of rubbish and polluted air in black swirls. There are clouds above and a dark sun barely poking out.

It’s sad. Beautiful, but sad. You have wondered what he meant by it. You open the door to your apartment. It’s not much and one day you want to get a house.

The keys make a jingle when you set them on the countertop. The apartment is still dark, so you scramble to flip the switch. “Why you leave?”

You scream at the top of your lungs. Standing there nonchalantly is Feitan, who you haven’t had contact with in a hot minute. His hair is even longer than before. He wears a new cowl that has a skull on it over his face. His trench coat looks a little too big for him but he wears it well anyway.

“Uh, because I live here? What are you doing here?” You set your bag down and take off your short heels. Although he’s a murderer, you still feel safe with him.

He takes slow strides towards you. “ Why? I looked for you and you weren’t there.”

“You knew where I was. I got your presents,” You point to the painting. He hides his face a little in the fabric. “I like it by the way. Did you do it?”

“Shut up.” You sigh and walk into your kitchen. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

You begin to wash the rice. Your eyes switch from looking down to taking obvious glances at him. Right about now, he should be in his mid twenties. It’s amazing how long you’ve known each other. You remember him as that kid who didn’t know how to tie his shoes and him teaching you about Nen. Time flies so fast when you least expect it.

You crack the eggs and whisk them. The sound of the utensil against the bowl and the sizzle of the tomatoes in the pan is all that is heard. Feitan doesn’t make one sound. He opts to stare at you working and even has a glint in his eye which you think could be satisfaction.

“Do you still like this, by the way? I remember you snatching it.” You try not to smile at the memory.

“I do.” He hovers in your kitchen, just waiting, watching you do all of the work. Stingy bastard. After adding the seasonings, you could have never gotten in Meteor City, you fix him a plate. He happily accepts it and sits down on the floor.

“I have a tab-” Oh, the memory. Allowing yourself to smile, you sit with him and eat off of his plate. “We’re sharing. ”

He gives a slight growl but doesn’t do anything. “So, what brings you by?”

“I say hello.” You hum with a mouth full of food. “Well, hello to you too, little boy.”

He gives you a light kick. The two of you finish the plate. Both full, you just lay back and talk.

“How long are you staying?”

“Not long.” You’ll miss him. “Running from the cops again?”

“Need to hide out for a bit.” You nod, accepting his answer and that your connection will probably always be sweet moments. “It’s nice to have you here, even only for a moment.”

Feitan taps you again with his foot. “I’m always here. I say hello all the time.” You know and are fully aware of what he means. His odd little gifts decorate your house. To bones, to rugs, even a china set he stole. It’s routine for him to give you something, even when you don’t see him.

“Even though you run.” He kicks you again. The more you watch him, the more your chest tightens. He’s the only consistent thing in your life. Everything is fleeting. Your job is new as well as your relationship with your coworkers. But there is a line with them. Feitan is different.

“How long are we going to do this dance?”

“I don’t dance.” You roll your eyes and laugh. “I mean you coming by once in a blue moon.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know.” You nod. “Figures.”

He frowns. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, that this whole thing is tiring. You come and go like some kind of feral cat.”

“So?”

You sputter, “ So I don’t appreciate it.” He takes off his long coat and reveals his chest, next goes his shoes. “I sleep here.”

“You can’t use me!” He gets up and goes in the direction of your room. “Feitan!” You pick up his clothes and set them aside. “Do you hear me? I wasn’t done talking!”

On your bed is a sprawled out Feitan. He looks at you with squinted eyes. “Shut up, I’m trying to sleep.”

Like always, he makes himself at home. You sigh, giving up on trying to talk to him. “Move over.”

He scoffs and reluctantly moves out of your way. You feel him tense up as you lay down. “This is my bed. I can sleep here.”

You face each other as you lay down. Neither of you say anything about how close you are. This is probably the closest you’ve ever been since you helped him tie his shoes the second time. You feel his eyes on you, making you nervous. “Stop staring at me.”

“Never sleep with someone in a while.” You know. The last time was with you, no doubt. At the time, you didn't think about it, if you remember correctly. It's hard to tell since it's been so long.

“The couch is that way.” He smacks his lips. “No, you go.” You open your eyes.

“Like I said, this is my bed.” Feitan doesn’t say anything about your ownership. Instead, he’s honest with you. “I’m tired.”

Instantly, you start to feel a little bad. In the city, no child was ever able to fully sleep. It was too dangerous, especially in the more dangerous districts. Him being honest about his state, you take it as a step.

“If you want to, I’ll be on the lookout.” His hands are next to yours. You grab them, just like he did those few years ago. “You can sleep now, Feitan.”

You don’t know when, don’t know how either, but you two do end up sleeping. His eyes are closed and his breath even. Your eyes flutter open and see that he’s got slight dark under eyes and his mouth leaking drool. Feitan looks peaceful, sleepy, like he hasn’t done this in a while.

The next morning, he’s gone with no evidence he was even there.

_________________

You watch on the tv screen above the bank about the attack on York New, a city not too far from you. The attack happened a few days ago but it’s still in the headlines. You don’t blame them, to be honest. It was an insane event that over two thousand people died!

You cling onto your boyfriend’s arm. He touches your hand reassuringly. His watch gleams in the moonlight and his suit is perfectly pressed. He's the entire package, he’s perfect. A good job, good manners, an honest man, and treats you well, too. He always holds the chair out for you and gets up when you leave the room. Just like a true gentleman.

When you first met, it was a classic coffee shop romance. Then it blossomed into a romantic and expensive dinner, the movies, a nighttime walk in the park, all of the classic dates. In every single one of them he was the perfect gentleman, the perfect man. You like him and how he treats you. How consistent he is. He's the type of man you can rely on.

Nevertheless, there is a bothersome voice in the back of your head that reminds you of someone he just isn’t. He’s not Feitan Portor. You don’t feel the contentment Feitan gives when the two of you sleep. You don’t study your boyfriend’s features like you did Feitan.

Dammit, why are you thinking of him? He’s not around and you haven’t seen him in what? Two or three years? So why think of him now. Plus, you haven’t received a gift or a ‘hello’ from him. For all you know, he could be dead.

“Are you alright?” You wake from your thoughts and look at your boyfriend. His hair is dark, blending in with the night. Eyes kind and green, a Grecian nose, and average sized lips revealing a dazzling smile. Not only is the very essence of him suave, but his looks are also perfect. Tall and handsome, well dressed and a smooth voice.

It's just that one five foot one pest that won’t get out of your head.

“Y-yeah just…it’s all so shocking. York New is literally over there.” You point past the river where more tall buildings reside in the distance.

“I know, I know.” He brings you in close to him. He places a kiss on your head. “Don’t worry, nothing will happen to you.”

Suddenly, the newscaster stops mid sentence and gasps. Before you know it, the Phantom Troupe have been named the offenders that caused all of this. Two thousand people. Feitan, did you really kill that many people?

“I would like to go home. I don’t feel the greatest.” He rubs your arm, you still being tucked into his side. Your excuse was a lie to cover the gnawing feeling towards Feitan and his deeds. Although the Phantom Troupe’s original intentions were from a decent stand point, it seems they’ve lost their way. Feitan has lost his way.

The gifts have stopped coming, him no longer saying hello. After the last time, when you made him familiar food and sat in a comfortable silence, he disappeared. This time, there was something about it that hurt. Like he didn’t want to come around. He didn’t want to say hello anymore. Or perhaps, he died which if confirmed, you would ache beyond help.

“The Phantom Troupe is dead.” The newscaster said. The crowd gasped, shocked that the most feared criminals in the world are gone. Did you jinx it? Curse the little boy who needed you to tie his shoes. The boy who liked your cooking and made sure you rested. Had strong faith in you, never doubting. Protected you from the shadows and held your hand.

Is he really gone?

You hide your face in your boyfriend’s jacket. Tears stream from your eyes at the thought of his grave. With the Troupe, his friends dead, you’d be the only one to truly mourn him. To remember his name beyond his violence.

You clutch your chest. “Are you okay? Does your chest hurt?” He grabs you by your shoulders, making you face him. He’s such a kind, decent man. But he’s not Feitan Portor.

“I just need to rest. I’ll call you tomorrow.” You give him a chaste kiss goodbye. Once he leaves, your chest hurts even more. You slide down as you look around at all the menace’s little gifts. The painting, the skull, the windchimes, everything he’s given you. Why, oh why, couldn’t you stay here long enough for your gift, Feitan?

Wait, what could you have given him anyway? He’s a thief that takes what he pleases and has nothing to wish for.

You lay on your couch and put your arm over your face. The tears refuse to stop for even just a second. You don’t know what you’re crying harder for. Feitan or the confusing feelings for him. Now that he’s gone, you can’t properly tell him. How can you explain it?

It’s heavy on your chest and tightens it. You want to feel his body heat no matter how hot the day is. There are no small flutters in your stomach at the thought of him. No, it's something in your heart. You want to stare at him, to memorize every feature he has. To hear his soft voice that is just a centimeter away from a whisper. Just melt in his touch, his presence. Wait, why is this happening? You barely knew him! Does that fact even matter though?

You slip your hand in your underwear, still staring at the ceiling, sniffling at the news of his death. You imagine the future. Seeing him walk into your house and setting his belongings on the table. Wrapping his arms around you and kissing your back. No matter how long you’ve known him, his stature never fails to amuse you. He’d paw at your body, tearing off your clothes. Feitan wouldn’t hesitate to use his hands for your pleasure.

You trace your fingers in the direction you think he’d go. Curling your fingers inside, thrusting them in harshly, knowing that he can only be gentle in his own way. Your back arches from the couch. You swear you can smell him and the faint metallic scent that he holds. The feeling of his ragged breath on your cheek you could swear is real.

You moan as you take that jump you’ve searched for. Thinking of how good Feitan would make you feel. You're relentless on yourself, still going as strong as he’d be. Adding another finger, going faster and faster on your clit. Your moaning gets louder as the indiscernible amount of time goes on.

‘ The Phantom Troupe is dead.’

You crash on the couch with one last gasp. The dream of the two of you ends in flames. The house, the passion, the years that go by in that home. Maybe even a child or two. Seeing him in the morning with a groggy voice is gone. Rubbing his eyes and saying he wants more eggs and tomatoes is no longer there.

What would your gift be to Feitan? Memories? Sex? Food? Nothing fits. He can have those with anyone.

You slip yourself out from your underwear. It didn’t distract you. Perhaps if you thought of your boyfriend, it would have. But the feelings you have towards Feitan went beyond physical. What is this? What do you call this?

Love? Time stops at the realization. It has to be that. That would have been your gift to him. Love. You cover your mouth as you admit it to yourself.

'I love you Feitan Portor. I won’t forget you. I love your messed up hair and soft voice. For how you didn’t reject me when the world did. I will do the same for you. I’ll look past your torturous ways and miss you anyway. Maybe the world will curse you, but I’ll mourn you. Bury you so no one can spit on you anymore. I love you Feitan.

I’m in love with you Feitan Portor. This is my gift to you. For you to know that you will not be forgotten even though I never got to tell you, to thank you for everything. For leaving the baseball bat with me to protect myself. For painting that picture for me. All of the little gifts you thought I’d like, too. Thank you for protecting me from the priest and the wolves that hunted me every day when we were young.'

You stare at the ceiling till the earliest of mornings. It’s still dark, still heavy with the night sky. There’s some rumbling in the distance, a flash of light in the sky. You don’t bother to confirm anything.

Just as you close your eyes, the window opens with a creak. You move your eyes to see the figure before you. The darkness covers it, only leaving the silhouette. “Why cry?”

You squint, trying to make out the features. “Are you real?”

“Very.” It must be a lie. A cruel humor the world has. “Stop crying.”

“I can’t. Not when you sound like him.” The figure cocks his head, that much you can see with the flash of lightning behind him. “Him?”

“Someone who can’t tie his shoes.” Your lip wobbles again. “I can tie them now.” The moon glows enough to show his face now as he steps up to you. Feitan’s delicate features peek out from his cowl.

You shake your head in denial. “It’s not real. It can’t be. You’re dead, Fei.” Your voice is hoarse from your sobs.

He looks shocked at your words. The man who looks like Feitan smacks your feet off the end of the couch so he can sit.

“I’ll miss you Feitan Portor.” The longer you stare at the imaginary man, the more you hurt. “Well, stop.”

He roughly wipes away the tears. “Ugly when you cry.” His face is close to yours. Since he’ll be gone by the time you come to your senses, you grab his face and kiss him. He sharply inhales, not expecting your sudden decision.

He growls against your lips, “Stupid brat.”

He feels real. He smells real, familiar too. You tell him such and with furrowed brows and a strong grip of his hand, he grabs your jaw and makes you look at him. “I’m real, you idiot.”

“They said you died…” You comb his hair through your fingers. It’s real, he's real . So, what’s going on? Before you can ask him, he cradles you. “Stop crying or I’ll go.”

Your lips wobble at his threat. Rather than listening to it, you hug him. He nestles on top of you, hips placed between yours. He’s light, lighter than you thought so it isn’t a bother.

“You’re so ugly when you cry. Don’t cry.” He holds you closer and kisses your head. Against your ear, you feel his lips move. You can’t tell what he’s mouthing. When the two of you comfortably slept those years ago, that was the closest you’ve been. Now, this beats that record. Face to face, body to body, and sharing breaths.

After a few moments of thunder and lightning, he kisses you gently. Not at all like the desperate one like before. Realistically, you know these feelings you have for him seem fake. You’ve only had a few moments with him. So, why are they so significant? Are they with him too? Is it possible that love can blossom quickly?

Gentle kisses turn passionate, never wanting to separate. Little nibbles on the right places and sucks on all of the best ones. Clothes leave, not wanting to get between the two friends, those who dance around each other. For the first time, they meet.

His hands reach your throat as he kisses you, making sure to give it a light squeeze. His weight is still on you, not hurting in the slightest. Feitan makes sure his hand reaches below and swirls his thumb on your bud. You gasp, surprised you were right about how he’d do it. Every ministration he does is exactly how it was pictured. Your hands don’t compare to it. Not by a long shot.

Despite his size, his hands are still bigger than yours. They reach deeper than you and are thicker too. In no time, you come, the bliss lasting a good minute before he sheathes himself inside. His thickness is more than you thought. It’s a bit of a stretch, but in a good way.

His gasps quicken with every thrust. You can tell that you're being loud, way louder than when you touched yourself. Feeling the rush and strength of his movements has you claw his back in ecstasy. He groans at the sensation. Finally, after this time of passion and intimacy, you both hold each other as you fall off of that cliff.

Feitan looks into your eyes. With a softness that no one in the world could’ve predicted the torturer of the Phantom Troupe to have, kisses you. “Don’t cry anymore. Don’t cry.”

“It’s hard not to when I know you’ll leave.” Silently, Feitan removes himself from inside you. It’s become routine, so you expect him to walk out. He lays back down, his head on your stomach. You run your fingers through his hair. He needs a haircut.

You wake up, not realizing that you went asleep in the first place. Before you can get up, you feel pressure on your stomach. Feitan rests on you still, eyes completely closed and his face peaceful. The two of you are naked and the only source of heat is each other. As much as you want to wrap your arms around him, you know he’ll react negatively or at least flinch.

Soon after, he stretches and rubs his face against your stomach. Like before, he drooled in his sleep. “Good morning.”

He grunts in response and sits up on his heels. It takes him a moment to remember the night before. His eyes widen as he looks you up and down, making you highly aware of your current state. You cover yourself with a blanket draped over the couch.

“I have to go.” Ah, right. He’s a cat.

He gets dressed. Once he has his boots on, you see him tie them the way you taught him. “Proud of you. You finally learned huh?”

“Brat.” You laugh a little at him. Once he’s done you ask, “Will I ever see you again?"

He cradles your face. “I come back.” You nod, holding back tears. He studies your face and settles on your eyes. He must have realized that you were trying not to cry. His hands still remain on your face as he kisses you. He lingers there for a minute. A parting kiss, a meaningful one.

Something tells you that this feral cat isn’t going away anytime soon. That he’ll always be constant and you won’t be totally alone. A companion you won’t see everyday and only for a night.

This is the gift you’ll give him. You’ll be home for him.

___________________

Months later, news about the Chimera Ants came out. You had already broken up with your boyfriend and heard he had left town to avoid them. Of course, you followed suit and got the hell out of there.

Without any plan, you moved back to Meteor City, where you thought that they wouldn’t be. Alas, that was stupid. You made a home base in the residential area. Not knowing that Meteor City was plagued by the wretched beasts.

By God’s grace, you managed to avoid them due to you being in the residential district. News that the Phantom Troupe were home to fight them ran rampant. The thought of Feitan made you nervous and you don’t know why.

Suddenly, right as you put away your dishes, the door opened. You grabbed a knife and faced the intruder. Standing there was the Phantom Troupe, who once again, barged into your home like they owned the place.

“What the hell?” You shout. The first one is Phinks with a wide smile. “There she is! Fei, I found her!”

You put your hand on your hip. “Seriously, what are you doing her-you’re dragging in mud, take off your shoes!”

“It’s only a little.” Phinks pouts. “I don’t care! You don’t live here.”

Phinks and his friends grumble as they do as they’re told. The last one to enter the house is Feitan, who is notably holding his left arm. Without being told, he removes his shoes.

“Feitan…” He hasn’t faced you yet. “What happened to your arm?”

“I’m injured too, (Y/n)!” The smiling boy with round eyes whines. You have no idea what his name is. Only that he and the rest are in Feitan’s gang.

“Alright, let me see.” He lays down on your clean table and says, “It’s all over. I need the full treatment!”

“Ugh, fine.” You grumble under your breath about the disrespect and your poor table. Finally, Feitan sits on one of the pushed aside chairs. He says, “I need it too.”

“Big babies.”

You heal the biggest cry baby completely. The blond, whose name you now know as Shalnark, stretches. “If it weren’t for you, I would’ve been hurting all day!”

Rolling your eyes, you turn to Feitan who has been silent. He holds out his arm for you. You take the limb and inspect it.

“Completely shattered.” He grunts in agreement. He stares into your eyes and gives you a familiar slight smile. You notice that his friends are quiet, not a sound or word among them.

“You guys alright?” You ask. The girl shakes her head yes and ‘whispers’ to the rest. “Should we leave them alone?”

“Probably.” A mummy with boxing gloves answers. You’ve never seen him before in your life.

“Uh, we’ll check the place out. Y’know, make sure it’s safe.” Shalnark shoos the little kid out and into a separate room, your bedroom. “We’ll clear this out in case you guys need it!”

You huff and roll your eyes. Feitan’s cheeks are red and he’s glaring daggers at his friends. The girl goes outside with the remaining three to check the area. You and your feral cat are alone.

“What are they checking for? I’m in a residential area.”

“Ants.”

“They’re here? In the safe zone?” You begin to panic until he grabs your hand. “You’re safe now. They’re not in the city anymore.”

“Wha-how? What’s going on?”

He pinches you lightly, encouraging you to heal his wounds. “Oh, right, right.” Flowers of all colors circle around. They begin to smooth over Feitan’s wounds. You take a second to wipe the blood off of his lip, letting there be some room for the petals to go.

“How’s the other guy look?”

“She's toasted.” You smile. “Atta boy.”

He’s healed, the petals and flowers disappear. You lick your lips at the sight of his bare chest. You didn’t notice before due to the audacity of these heathens barging in.

His heart rate quickens. “You leave again.”

You nod. “Yeah, yeah I did. I had to, Fei. the Chimera Ants invaded. I had to run.”

“With your boyfriend?”

You let out a small gasp. “ No. How do you know that?” He crosses his arms and leans back in the chair. “You lie.”

“I didn’t lie to you. I just never said anything.”

“Words of a liar.” You scoff at him. “I did not lie to you. I lied to him. You don’t have any business with our relationship.”

At first, he was looking at his lap. Those grey eyes of his immediately found a new target to glare at. “You’re not with him anymore. ”

“No. Why does that matter?” He begins to tap his foot lightly. “Why did you break up?”

“You hungry?” You start to get up until you’re tugged down. “Why?”

When you don’t answer, he whispers in your ear. “Because I fucked you?” Your face is so warm.

“If we run, we can still make it out.”

“Why are we running?” A small voice asks.

“Because I think they need the room.”

“Will you two shut up?!” You are two seconds away from running out of your own damn house. You stand and his hands hold you by your hips. “Tell me why you leave him?”

“Because of you.” It’s embarrassing to tell him your feelings. Hopefully, he can read your mind or something and shut up. He sighs and stands, walking over to you without a hitch. He kisses you.

“That’s what you get for lying.” He’s not remorseful or even boastful. Feitan takes your answer in stride. “No more leaving. Stay so I can find you.”

“You’ll always find me, remember?”

______________

Time after that, you were stuck in charge of Chrollo’s lover or something. She’s not too bad but clearly traumatized. Anytime you’d tell her to go with you, she’d look shocked. Like she was surprised she could leave. You were suspicious of her relationship with Chrollo. Something didn’t sit right with you whenever he or Feitan came up. She’d tense up. She never talked about it either. From what you understand with the little information you have, is that she was a former member that raised an orphan and that Chrollo loved her immensely. Perhaps too much.

From what you know, there was a big showdown on the Dark Continent and the boat that was taking a voyage to the fake one. The Phantom Troupe were on that one at first, fighting Hisoka Marrow. He was a sore loser that got humbled and decided to attack again.

Amazingly, only a few died. You didn’t want to know the details or anything. You can’t go through that again. So, after that news, you and Chrollo’s lover parted ways. She went on to find a kid she raised. You, on the other hand, decided to settle out of Meteor City. This was almost a year ago.

You have an apartment now in the town where you and your boyfriend lived, right next to York New. It’s basic, not fitting any aesthetic or anything. The good thing about it is that it’s bigger than your first one. It’s two bedroom and has a good price.

Feitan hasn’t reappeared. It tore you to shreds. You’ve managed to piece yourself together bit by bit, but you are a hollow version of yourself. Surviving and not enjoying the little things you used to. You even saw Jade, Scarlet, Ruby, and the new child, Emerald. Even that heartwarming moment didn’t fulfill you. However, it was the first time you smiled in a while.

You stir the food in the pot. Since it’s a little chilly, you made soup. You put the lid over the pot, letting it cook. There’s a knock on the door. You open it and see the man you’ve waited for.

Feitan is in dark clothing and has a large scar on his face. There’s no cowl over him, or a large trench coat. His hands are in his pockets, and he looks at you expectantly. You realize that you’ve just been standing there, you move to let him in. Once again, he makes himself at home.

“How’ve you been?”

“You leave again.” He states bluntly. His eyebrows are furrowed and has a frown on his face.

“Bold of you, very bold.” You move around him. “Why did you go?”

“Because I’d never stay in that city forever. The Ants were gone, the world settled. So why couldn’t I? That place is gross anyway.”

He sits on the barstool and cracks his neck. You ask a question right after he sits. “How long you here for?”

You don’t know why you asked that. He’ll only be here for a moment. A while ago, you had made the decision to accept it as your gift to him. To love and mourn him when the world won’t. When news about the Phantom Troupe hit, you couldn’t bear to hear it. Their trip to the fake Dark Continent, then their corrected course to the right one, ended in a battle with them facing Hisoka and Illumi and everything else over there.

It was too hard for you to think about. That doesn’t mean you didn’t mourn and that you’ve snapped out of it.

“For good.”

You look up into his eyes. For the first time in a long time, he’s smiling with soft eyes. You see that he has a dimple on his left cheek. “W-what about-”

“Done for a while. Maybe forever. I know I’m staying.”

“But your friends, where are they?” He shrugs even though you see the tension. “Separate. We split for a bit.”

He rubs his shoulders nervously. “Can I stay with you?”

“Wow, you’re asking? Shocked.” You tap on the counter. The weight you’ve been carrying is lightened. “Feitan?”

“Yes?” He gets off of the stool and makes his way around the counter. “You know how you give me all those gifts?”

He nods his head. “Well, this is my gift to you, Feitan Portor. You can stay as long as you like.”

He wraps his arms around you. He’s hugging you. This time, you aren’t afraid to hold him back and squeeze. Maybe, just maybe, this is what home is?

If the Phantom Troupe resurrects, at least you know he’ll always come home. That you two will be a constant force for each other. No matter if it does or doesn't, you two aren't dancing but admitting things you couldn't. This is home, a gift for each other.

#feitan portor #feitan x reader #feitan porter x reader #hxh #hxh fanfic #slight yandere #q #phantom troupe #hunter x hunter #hxh feitan #idk what to put here rn

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elbiotipo · 2 days

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How should nekomimi be inherited to not look weird?

I think that if they are simply humans with certain animalistic traits then it can be done like irl phenotypes, basically "some mixed kids inherit them, some don't" and leave it here, so there can be a community of mostly cat people with some individuals with fully human features to not make it look weird (and vice-versa, some nekomimi people amongst "normal" humans who don't belong to any of the cultures of cat people).

But what about some more complicated feline features like vision or dietary needs and such?

And even more importantly, is my idea of how to do nekomimi genetics in a fantasy setting not weird in itself?

It's NOT weird. The only thing better than catgirls are catgirls who fit in the worldbuilding.

Now, if you want a technobabble excuse, you could always use homeobox genes that you could say develop different kinds of ears, tails (biologist note: this is NOT exactly how homeobox genes work, but they do kinda work as an technobabble excuse) inside a wider, let's say, "humanoid" species or genus. These could be inherited as diverse alleles of such traits (for example, the 'ears' gene could have cat-like, dog-like, human-like, etc. alelles) and also have mendelian or non-mendelian distributions. Suppose you want to make a fantasy mendelian system, you could say "cat ears are recessive, human ears are dominant" (note: "recessive" and "dominant" don't mean "worse" and "better" it just means than an allele is "hidden" or deactivated by the dominant one. Sorry if I make a mistake, I learned all this in Spanish) and figure out inheritance from there, just traits that are cleanly inherited in regular proportions. This is not how most genetics work, however. There's multiple kinds of non-mendelian inheritance... multiple alleles, codominance, sex-linked inheritance, and of course quantitative genetics which is when alleles don't manifest in a single discrete trait but rather a continous measurable one (such as height)... now I feel I'm doing my genetics course again, but I'm sure you can tell how such things can work if you read an intro text about it.

There's a bunch of caveats here, and I'm gonna speak very broadly here. In humans, there aren't single, well defined genes that codify appearance for, for example, hair texture and color, skin/eye color, etc. in the sense that there's a "blue eye gene" or "curly hair gene". In fact this is the case for most genes, most are multi-allelic or quantitative with different 'weights' for a continous trait. Or BOTH. People tend to inherit different genetic 'weights' (very unscientific term here, sorry) from one parent or another and this can be very random, with some expressing different traits even if having the same family (this is why you see people who resemble almost perfectly to one parent instead of a "mix" of both, and of course those who indeed look like a mix of both. And these in turn have nothing to do with genetic diseases, blood types, or other inheritable things) There are hundreds of genes involved in each trait of human appearance and they all interact with each other, and most aren't even known, we don't fully know the genes that regulate skin, hair or eye color, just to give a few examples. So it's almost never stuff like "dominant purple flower, recessive white flower", Mendel was VERY lucky and smart to pick out discrete alleles to find out his laws. Most traits aren't like that at all, especially in animals.

Which brings me to my next point. It's very unlikely mendelian inheritance of traits such as ears or tails would have evolved naturally in animals. The development of characteristics such as ears or tails is deep, deep in the early embryo development, a very fragile period for animals. A species that has such huge genetic variations in such key periods of development faces severe selective pressure and it's unlikely these extreme "alleles" would remain, errors on them would cause extreme malformations or just embryos not developing at all. Even humans have this trouble, the loss of tails in apes, for example, has let us to suffer from spina bifida, every body plan change has a huge cost and this is why animals are sometimes very conservative with it, most body plans are the modification of existing features rather than the apperance or removal of different ones, and this is at evolutionary scales, not even living populations. Of course, some animals are more, let's say, plastic, like dogs, but even they have a general body plan, there aren't dogs without ears or tails, for instance. Even dogs are the consequence of tens of thousands of very intensive artificial selection which did not happen naturally at all, I mean, it's not like poodles or daschunds have any sexual or natural selection advantage for themselves, they are adventageous for us. You can see that wild and feral dogs, without the pressure of human artificial selection tend to converge into a more general dog plan (the so called "pariah dog", but also see dingos, and of course wolves, I'm skipping a lot of stuff here), adapted to local climates.

Surprisingly, I can see diet being less problematic in this sense. After all, we know there are for example human populations adapted to lactose. Dogs have also evolved enzymes to digest carbohydrates which wolves don't have, while not as nutritious as their carnivorous diet it works better with our human diet. Different bacterial flora can also help digest things that are surprising though, such as cellulose (though bacterial flora is still an underrated and ongoing field of study) It's also much easier to imagine changes in dentition than the whole head plan. So I can easily imagine different populations adapting to different diets. Same with eyes, I mean, daltonic and colorblind human population exists, the EYE is mostly the same, but it works differently. But again, the body plan remains the same. Humans or dogs might have different aptitudes for diets, but they don't stop being omnivores or carnivores.

Of course, tis' fantasy. So why expect things to follow natural evolution? Hell, why even expect fantasy people in a pre-industrial setting to know about homeobox genes? Depending on your setting, it might be that these traits are stable and inheritable because of a magical curse/blessing, or that the gods or the inherent magic of the world said so. However, if you have a species that has multiple, very different appearances and those are inheritable, you're dealing with some rather heavy stuff here that redefines your concept of humanity. In Dungeon Meshi, for instance, they talk about this, as the typical "elf, dwarf, halfling, human" fantasy races all can and do have children with each other, and (spoilers!) they seem to have a common origin, and thus all are actually called "humanity" which is a very interesting concept, because, indeed, what else are they if they don't actually have any real biological barriers. Meanwhile, the differences with other more "distant" species? races? such as orcs and kobolds (canine-like) are shown as rather arbitrary and depending on the culture, in fact, even humans (or rather "tallmen") get excluded from "humanity" in some cases. (not even tackling the whole long-short lived races thing). Similarily, you could say these "nekomimi" are just humans with a particular blessing or curse (again, in Dungeon Meshi, there is Izutsumi), but that works on the particular designs of your fantasy world and magic system... and let's say that when such concepts have appeared in real life, well... I don't need to tell you these are rather heavy and controversial topics to tackle. I don't think you should shy away from portraying them, but again, it's something to think about very carefully.

Since this is a heavy topic, I'm gonna take you out of fantasy for a sci-fi perspective. In my biopunk setting (it's on the tag "soft biopunk" on my blog) there are kemonomimi people all around, and in fact, all sort of genetic cosmetics, in fact, one of the main characters is indeed a communist catgirl. Most of it, however, is made in adults, much like getting tattoos or piercings. Tegument (i.e, skin) in humans and most vertebrates is surprisingly plastic, and one can 'grow' ears and implant them, or estimulate the production of feather or scale genes in the skin. Meanwhile, things such as tails have a little more involved surgery, since you also need to take into account nerves, muscles, circulation, etc. Meanwhile stuff such as muzzles and others require very extensive surgery, so it isn't as common. So these are implants (non inheritable) rather than expression from embryos, what geneticists would say germline modification. Such things also occurs but is done way more carefully and is more extensive, and it's nothing you would do just for the sake of cosmetics, when you're doing that, you're basically starting a new branch of humanity with all that implies. On the other hand, sentient "uplift" cats, dogs, and many other animals do exist, but they aren't animals that act like humans, they are sentient animals with a way of thinking and behavior very different to us, you aren't talking to a "cat with human intelligence", you're talking to an intelligent cat (when they want to talk, anyways). So, you can't REALLY turn a Felis catus into a catgirl, but a Homo sapiens can do a rather passable one.

Well, this has been a lot of fun to write and think about, so I hope you enjoyed it, and sorry for the walls of text! I promise to make a better post with some better illustrations of hot catgirls. In any case, if you found this useful, I would be very grateful if you gave me a tip! Given our economic situation here with Milei (the guy who cloned his dog, how appropiate), anything helps!

Feel free to ask anything you'd like!

#worldbuilding #genetics #I'm so sorry I'm sure I made like ten thousand mistakes about genetics here #but I hope it makes sense!#sorry for not answering earlier I was really typing like mad #catgirls #I mean it's true isn't it

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ordinaryschmuck · 2 days

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What I Thought About The Owl House Pilot

Huh. Never thought I’d get to do this again, but oh well.

Salutations, random people on the internet! I’m an Ordinary Schmuck! I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

And, above all else, I LOVE talking about The Owl House. I have an entire masterpost dedicated to talking about every single episode of the show and I’m halfway through a six-part review discussing everything that I love about it (Part Four's coming when it’s done. Let’s say…late June. Early July at the latest). I figured that after I’d finished that whole deal, I wouldn’t have anything left to talk about when it came to this series. Then, out of nowhere, the show’s original pilot leaked online…Sort of. It’s just an animatic with the show’s original voice cast voicing MOST of the lines, but it’s very much the pilot episode. It’s just not a finished product and I won’t share a link because I don’t think it’s exactly…legal. BUT I will at least share my thoughts about it because, well…Look at my blog. The Owl House has become the BIG THING that I obsess over for a reason and I love that I got to see what’s basically an alternate version of the show that I love. What do I mean?

Well, a pilot is MUCH different from a first episode. Where the first episode is meant to sell the show to the audience, a pilot is meant to sell it to a STUDIO. It can happen at any point of the story or act as the show’s first episode. Just as long as it shows off the characters, concepts, and tone, a studio can look at it, greenlight it, and allow the show to continue, BUT with some extra notes. Sometimes, those notes can change the rest of the series where others can keep the pilot good enough to stay canon. Some best examples off the top of my head are the pilots for Regular Show and Rick and Morty. You can tell that not much changed from the pilots of those shows and what was initially pitched, but there are clear changes in tone, animation, and even personality. Skips sounds a little more illiterate and Benson being more informed of the consequences of something as simple as rock, paper, scissors in the Regular Show pilot and Rick is noticeably more reckless and unprepared for situations in the Rick and Morty pilot. Nothing is set in stone with a pilot episode, even the ones that are canon. For the case of The Owl House, it’s pilot is no exception. A lot of it is just the same as “A Lying Witch and A Warden” at least in terms of plot and themes, but there are so many changes that show off what the series COULD HAVE been instead of what it was. How different? Well, let’s go through it all.

But real quick, I’m not going to do the “Like/Dislike” format I’ve done for previous reviews. Instead, I’m going to look through this pilot, note the changes it has, and share my thoughts on them. There’s also going to be a few spoilers to what happens in this pilot, so if you haven’t checked it out then I suggest giving it a watch wherever you can find it. It really is interesting to get a peak into what’s basically an alternate version of my favorite show.

With that said, let’s get into it.

Some Things Stayed the Same: Like I said, it’s basically an altered version of “A Lying Witch and A Warden.” The plot is that Eda uses Luz to get King back his “crown of power,” with some bits and pieces carrying over. Certain jokes that must have been too funny to get rid of, specific lines of dialogue that hit just the right notes, and some aspects of the characters’ personalities being just the same, proving that they're already perfect the way they are. It’s the changes, however, that makes for something more interesting. For one…

There’s More of an Emphasis on Comedy: As much as I love The Owl House, I’ll always admit that humor isn't its strong suit. It CAN be funny, really funny. But the jokes don’t land as well as something as Gravity Falls or Amphibia. I can say that a part of that could be because Dana Terrace wanted a more serious show, and we definitely get a sense of how serious it could be later in the series. Here, in the pilot, it definitely seems like there was more of an attempt to make the show comedic. King’s crown isn’t in a warden’s cell held within a magical barrier that only a human can get through. It’s in a Principal’s high school, locked in a human locker that Eda and King treat as something devious. Amity’s friends aren’t preppy mean girls who seem like they could cause conflict to Luz and her friends. They’re characters used for jokes who are amazed by Luz standing up to Lilith. There’s less of an edge and more of a lean towards cutesy fun, waiting until the very end to reveal something heavy. To me, it makes the pilot feel MORE like a Gravity Falls clone than the final product. Because while Gravity Falls has its serious moments, it makes it clear that it was a comedy first, both in the pilot and final product. Any moment of heart or drama was overshadowed by one hilarious joke after the other. Now, “A Lying Witch and A Warden” had a lot of jokes too, but there were also these moments that hinted at something more. You have the oppressive looking prison, the grand beam of light hiding human collectibles, a crazy chase from a threatening looking warden. And yes, the reveal that Warden Wrath was trying to go out with Eda was hilarious, but a warden who tortures a prisoner for speaking her truth gives a hint of how dark this world can be. Meanwhile, a principal sending a student to demon detention feels more like a joke, exaggerating how strict some principals can be.

And keep in mind, I’m not complaining about the pilot leaning more towards comedy. I actually laughed a lot more with it than I did with “A Lying Witch and A Warden.” I’m just trying to explain how the tone is definitely going for something different than the full series. It might have that darker twist in the end, but even that is nothing more than a surprise. I'll get into why later, but while it has darker implications, it doesn't detract from the fun times to be had. Not by much. From what I can gather from the pilot, it’s definitely going for a series with goofy, fun adventures with a bit of heart to it. It’s just missing that personal touch that’s in The Owl House. One good example of how?

There’s Not Even a MENTION of Camila: Before you say anything, this has nothing to do with me being Camila’s number one fan, to the point where I almost made a side-blog dedicated to her (I really should get on that, though…)

I bring up this change because Camila grounds the story in “A Lying Witch and A Warden.” She draws Luz close to reality and is the first thing that comes to Luz’s mind when in real danger, saying, “If I die, my mom will kill me!” More than that, though, Camila is the one real connection Luz has to the human realm. She has no friends nor adventures, but Luz always has Camila, with even the first episode hinting that. So when Luz starts getting herself into trouble or choosing to lie and stay in the Boiling Isles, it lets the audience get ready for the inevitable drama that could unfold when Luz finally tells Camila everything. By removing Camila, though, the anticipation of Luz telling her mom goes away with her. At least, it tells ME that there’s less of a worry about Luz basically running away from home. Either this version of the show is holding off from that for a future episode or that Luz and Camila’s relationship isn’t close enough where it matters. This is speculation, of course, but I still stand by that a sense of something personal with Luz is lost for the sake of having fun and epic fantasy adventures with entertaining characters. It’s still good and entertaining, and the pilot does offer something else that’s personal, but it’s not the same as The Owl House we all fell in love with. Though, it’s notable that our main cast stayed the same.

Luz, Eda, and King: Overall, I’d say that these three, personality wise, didn’t change much. King’s probably the least altered, being the exact same character he was in Season One aside from MAYBE having a design change (It’s hard to tell through storyboards). As for Luz and Eda, they’re more or less the same. There’s a BIG change with Eda (That I’ll get to later), but her devil-may-care attitude is very much the same, as well as her snark and soft nature towards Luz and King. It’s her magic that gets the real boost, being able to do more like teleport across the Isles and turn into a…softer version of the Owl Beast at will. It’s pretty cool to see the power that this alternate Owl Lady has. And then there’s Luz, who’s still the lovable weirdo we all know. Though, this version seems a lot more dim and I’m not really a fan. How does she mistakenly give a book report in geometry class? How did it take seeing Amity’s witch ears to realize that she belonged in the demon realm? Luz had her dumb moments in the show too, but not to this extent. There was still a sense of maturity and cognitive understanding that made Luz feel like someone that seemed weird but intelligent enough to think herself out of a situation. This Luz seems more weird and focused on using brute force on a problem. In a way, it makes Pilot!Luz more of an…emotionally driven Star Butterfly. A fun and capable character, but not the same kind I had made several posts and reviews talking about how much I love/personally connected to her. But, comparatively, I guess it IS the most minor change that could be done to this character. Now let’s move onto BIGGER changes.

The Boiling Isles: The look and feel of the Isles remains the same, but the fact that it’s more connected to the Human Realm is intriguing. From what I can tell, the Demon Realm treats traveling to the Human Realm like it’s going to a new country. You visit, make some memories, and, for some, send your children over to be a foreign exchange student of sorts. Except that racism seems to be encouraged in this regard as the demons and witches don’t see humans worth breathing the same air as them. And some think it’s more than okay to hunt down and kill if one human trespasses into their realm. And the reason for THAT is implied to be Belos’ doing. Er, I mean–*Checks the leaked pitch bible*--Emperor Pupa? Uh…I’ll just stick with Belos.

And that’s extra fascinating to me because Belos being a witch hunter was a major twist that spoke VOLUMES of the kind of people he represents. To find out that this version is more anti-human makes me curious of what kind of angle the show would have taken. Would Belos have been your bare-bones fantasy villain or would the writers find a different way to tackle his symbolism? And is the reason why the Demon Realm is more open up to the Human Realm because he hopes witches and demons can report about their enemies for a possible invasion? There’s no way to know for sure because that version of the story will never come to be, but it’s interesting to think of all the things we COULD have gotten. The same goes for other characters.

Amity: To think, Amity was considered important enough to be included in the original pitch pilot alongside our main trio. It makes sense. Dana Terrace has gone on record in saying that Luz and Amity’s relationship was something she wanted from the get go, so it’s smart to establish it as quickly as possible. Though the route they take is definitely different. Instead of being enemies to lovers, Lumity, in the original pitch, went for the friends to lovers trope…kind of.

Luz, in this version, is someone so desperate for positive attention and respect that she latches onto the first person in school that was nice to her. Except that Amity was looking for some quiet and just so happened to look like she was supporting Luz when telling everyone to leave her alone. It was an act of kindness, but not one done in generosity. It still meant the world to Luz, though, making her go ALL IN with friendship. Only to be a little too forward and creeped Amity out to the point where she was polite enough to say “Thank you,” but you could see the desperation in her eyes to be anywhere but next to Luz. Yet Luz doesn’t see that. She’s still too focused that someone was actually nice to her that she blindly follows Amity into a new world just to return a weird looking passport. Because Amity’s Luz’s friend now and friends do nice things to each other. Only for Amity to accidentally reveal that she couldn’t care less for Luz and shatter her hopes and dreams in one fell swoop.

In a weird way, I’d say Luz and Amity are off on a better first impression here than in the original series. There’s no attempted dissections or witch’s duels. Just…Amity trying to be polite in Luz’s presence only to act like your typical mean girl when she THINKS Luz isn’t around. Tossing away the drawing is harsh for sure, but here’s the interesting thing: Amity didn’t know she was talking to Luz at that moment. She didn’t even get rid of the drawing until someone drew (haha) attention to it. If anything, it’s worth noting that Amity still kept the drawing on her. Almost like, despite being weirded out by Luz, Amity felt as though the drawing WAS cute and only got rid of it when she thought someone would question her for having it. Can’t have that Little Miss Perfect status shatter over something some human gave her.

Am I reaching as a Lumity shipper? Oh, most certainly yes. But we all know the inevitable conclusion between these two. We know where they’re headed. Dana has been pretty adamant about wanting it from the start and this pilot sets the groundwork well. Knowing where these two will end up, it’s easy to make connections and hypothesize what means what. Plus, look at the face of shock and amazement on Amity’s face when she sees Luz standing up to Lilith. That looks like a girl who’s…feeling things for this human weirdo. They’re not off to a ROARING start, but I can see how things could improve between Luz and Amity. And who knows, maybe this version of these two might end up dating sooner with how quickly they seem interested in each other. Again, am I reaching? Most definitely, but I went without any new Lumity content for over a year so LET ME REACH!

The point I’m trying to make is that this version of Amity definitely seems a lot more chill and polite at the start, even though it’s likely she still has issues of even being FRIENDS with a human. But not everyone starts off polite.

Lilith: Crazy to think that Lilith started out as…basically a one-off villain like Warden Wrath. At least, that’s what I gathered from the pilot. The pitch bible hints that there COULD be more to her, but at the same time she gets sent to a fire dimension and loses a hand. That’s one-off villain energy if I’ve ever seen it. But if she is meant to be something more, I would love to see what differences could come of her being the headmaster of Hexside instead of Bump and how she could either develop into someone better through Luz’s influence as a student or regress into someone worse as she makes Luz’s school life a living hell. Whatever could come from her, it was kind of fun seeing Lilith act as more of a threat with her…out of nowhere ability to turn into a bat monster. It’s a pretty cool design and I love that it was brought out due to Eda’s constant pestering, proving that Lilith is still the same insecure nut that I love. And it is pretty great that this pilot confirmed that Lilith really did dye her hair to look more serious. You CAN’T tell me that’s not why the Lilith we know ditched the curly red hair.

But that’s about it when it comes to changes towards characters and locations. Let’s talk about the potential differences in the ongoing story.

Luz Stays Trapped Instead of Choosing to Stay: I mean, technically she chose to stay by breaking that key for no reason, but that’s more of a consequence of not thinking things through. She didn’t NEED to break the key, Luz could have just as easily pulled it out. Instead, she kicked the dang thing, leaving herself trapped in this new world. And it’s here that I would like to once again point out how this makes Pilot!Luz different and what’s lost by not including Camila. The Luz WE know would have been more careful. She always felt like someone who fought smarter, not harder, even in that first episode. Luz didn’t fight Wrath head on, she rallied a prison riot that distracted him long enough for her to hit a firework ball into his mouth. She’s intelligent and resourceful, where this one…kind of is? It was smart to send Lilith to the fire dimension, but again, not a great plan to break the key. Plus, without Camila, this doesn’t feel like as big of a deal as it could have been. Camila was the first person in Luz’s mind as she destroyed the portal door in the Season One finale. In the pilot, with no Camila, it feels like a non-sacrifice or even that big of a deal. She’s stuck, sure, but Luz doesn’t really seem to care that much. She feels happy being with Eda and King and doesn’t seem to be in that big of a rush to get home. Plus, it’s not exactly complicated to get back. There was a whole line of portal doors in the beginning that Luz could potentially sneak through and there’s not yet an established cannon that makes it seem like getting a new key would be difficult or even complicated. Once more, it gives the impression that this version of The Owl House would be focused less on personal stakes and more like giving Luz that fantasy adventure she’s always been craving for. It would make for a fun show, but not the SAME show. However, it is worth noting that there could be some potential drama. Especially for one twist that was a JOLT to my system.

EDA WORKS FOR THE EMPEROR?!: WHAT?!

I’ll admit, I feel like the reason why this is so shocking is because of the Eda I know and the Emperor I learned to fear. I mean, Eda, the woman who would sooner eat her own fist before even CONSIDERING helping Belos, even before the witch hunter business, was originally meant to HELP him. Of all the changes that the series could have made, this was by far the biggest. Everything that I thought to be constant turned out to be a lie and I was NOT prepared for it!

But again, the reason why I got that big of a reaction is because it goes against everything I knew about Eda. If this was my first introduction to her, it’d be less of a shocking twist and more of a…hook. Like how Invincible’s first episode (Don’t watch if you’re a baby) ends with a character you THOUGHT you could trust doing this intensely dark thing. The rest of the season is leading you to figure out WHY this was done and how the other characters would react, making you want to see more as the show inevitably leads up to this big conclusion that changes everything you once knew. The same applies here, with the reveal making me wonder why Eda would do this, how long she’s been doing it, how it will affect her relationship with Luz, and whether or not it’d be an easy fix. And much like the ending of Invincible’s first episode (Seriously, NOT meant for babies), this hook makes me interested in wanting to see what comes next. Except I never will know because that came from a version of The Owl House that will never exist.

The pilot is interesting because it shows me what The Owl House COULD have been. I wouldn’t say that it’s better than what we got or even that it’s a better first impression than “A Lying Witch and A Warden.” It’s definitely FUNNIER, I’ll give it that, but it doesn’t make the original pitch better, it makes it different. Everything looks the same and sounds the same, but the overall feel of this pilot makes it something that would have had a different story, tone, and ideas on how to develop these characters. Would I have liked it? Absolutely. It seems like a fun time. But that doesn’t mean I like the show we got any less. This was more like…getting a peek into an alternate universe where a show I already love would have been vastly different. And after over a year without any new Owl House content aside from stuff that fans have made, this was a very pleasant surprise that leaves me excited for the NEW fan content that springs from all this.

But that’s enough talking about a show that could have been made. Time to get back to a series that came into existence and I still love so much. See you all then as you all milk this gift that the internet has given you.

#the owl house #luz noceda #camila noceda #eda clawthorne #king clawthorne #amity blight #lilith clawthorne #the owl house pilot #what i thought about #the owl house reviews

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becauseimanicequeen · 3 days

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RANDOM THOUGHTS: Unknown ep. 11

I’m just going into this episode wanting Qian and Yuan’s first kiss. That’s it. That’s all. Now, hit me with it!

Qian grabbed Yuan’s wrist. It was all the confirmation Yuan needed. I have a feeling that he will be even bolder now than what we’ve seen so far. And I love it.

Well, damn! That went from 0-100kph really fast. Yuan was starving, and I don’t blame him. He’s been starving for a loooong time. Even dreaming about it at night, it seems.

I love that Qian took the first step with the kiss. Yuan was straightforward and honest about his feelings and what he wanted (to be more than a brother, to be someone Qian could rely on, to be with Qian for the rest of his life, etc.). But Qian took the first step with the kiss. He’s finally “in his feelings” rather than trying to think it through or analyze it.

One thing I have to say I didn’t quite like about this scene, though, was the editing. I don’t mind the flashbacks (as in the flashbacks of some of their past moments) because it shows their story and adds emotional weight to the whole scene. I love that. But the buildup wasn’t there since the sequence of Yuan making his feelings clear and the kiss was chopped up and strewn here and there. For me, it would’ve been much more effective if it happened in chronological order (or if the confrontation from the previous scene had been in the same episode). The editing here fell a bit flat for me and it’s such a shame considering the potential it had of being an incredible climax of the whole series, that they were finally together. Ahhh, I don’t want to feel disappointed…

Look at them being cozy in bed! It’s Yuan’s neck kisses that do it for me…

Btw, this is probably the first time Qian has smiled when anyone has mentioned Lili and San Pang in the same sentence.

The way Yuan sneaked into his own room… lmfao!

The way I CACKLED because of Lili’s bonkers story.

A dating game? I’m getting Our Dating Sim flashbacks.

Here’s Qian, in the middle of a meeting at work, getting flashbacks of his night having sex with Yuan. 1. Absolutely understandable. 2. He’s completely whipped. So, again, understandable. 3. There’s no doubt he wants to have sex with Yuan again. And again. And again. So, once again, understandable.

The way he hit that figure and caught it before it hit the floor… Qian was clearly rattled by his daydream. And who can blame him? My legs would be shaking. (But this is not about me…)

So… The Doc and Le are fucking, right?

You know, Le is damn fine… when he doesn't look like a crazy person. Eh, who am I kidding? He’s sexy as hell when he looks like a crazy person. (I know, it’s a me-problem…)

OMG! Their date. The way I fucking laughed through the whole scene. Yuan accusing Qian of not being romantic, Qian proving the opposite, Qian’s reaction after the kiss, Long being funny as hell with the candle. Every moment was fucking golden! Excuse me as I rewind that a handful of times.

Of course, Qian’s trauma would come back up again at some point. It’s not like he’s dealt with it or been magically “healed”. I’m honestly wondering how the series will deal with his trauma (both the trauma around his childhood and his head trauma) considering there’s only half of this episode plus the next one left.

It doesn’t surprise me one bit that Qian went to the hospital by himself. I get that he doesn’t want to worry Yuan. But he isn’t even giving Yuan the chance to choose for himself.

Hitting yourself on the head won’t help…

It’s come to a point now that Qian has to tell Lili about his health. I mean, surgery seems to be the only option to get better, but the risks are too big to keep it secret.

Qian is talking as if he’s already set on dying. This is so unlike the fighter and survivor he used to be. And, of course, Yuan notices that something’s off.

Seriously, hasn’t Qian learned his lesson about not keeping something like this from Yuan?

I usually love miscommunicating (or non-communicating) characters because of the misunderstandings and drama it usually stirs up. And I love the misunderstandings and drama (in fiction, not real life, btw). BUT! This is riling me up. This is about Qian’s life. His health is in serious danger. Is it in line with his character? Yes, to a certain point. But how many times has he shown how important his family is to him? MANY! Practically the whole series so far. Why would he not want to prepare them for the possibility that he might not be around much longer? This isn’t the time to stay silent. This isn’t the time to avoid the topic. Come on, Qian. Don’t do this to Yuan. Or Lili.

Did you hear that, Qian? The Doc said to discuss it with your family.

The stress Qian is under has made him hide in an ally and start smoking again… If that blood clot in his head doesn’t kill him, the stress surely will.

Excuse me as I weep for a minute or two…

I only have one thing to say about that moment in the alley… Qian is so fucking lucky to have Yuan in his life. We’ve often talked about how lucky Yuan was that Qian found him (which is more than valid because he most likely wouldn’t have survived without Qian). But Qian is just as lucky to have Yuan in his life. Yuan single-handedly reignited the spark in Qian and brought the fighter in him back to life. And Qian needed that. He needed it to at least have a possibility to survive this.

I know I said I only wanted to mention one thing about that scene. But I have to mention Yuan biting Quan’s wrist as well, for the reason that I loved that detail. And because biting is my kind of kink. Not that this was kinky. But it does show that biting can prove a point at times.

Lili is so fucking sweet. And that hug at the end, between all three of them…

I really liked this episode, even though I felt disappointed with the editing at the beginning. But, they’re finally together and Qian has gotten his fighting spirit back.

Now there’s only one episode left and it feels bittersweet. I really don’t want this series to end…

#qots random thoughts #unknown #unknown the series #taiwanese ql #taiwanese bl #taiwanese series #my shit

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bus-stop-to-kpop · 3 days

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Kiss Cam (Lee Jeno x Reader)

Pairing: Lee Jeno (NCT) x gn!Reader

Genre: F1!au, Motorsport!au

Summary: During a red flag period an impromptu kiss cam has you and your teammate be the center of attention.

Word Count: 676

A/N: I'm kinda alive lol.

This is based on two different things, for one a picture of a Tweet that Admin A send me in which Jeno apparently said he'd be an F1 driver if he wasn't an Idol. But mostly inspired by the GT Masters qualifying this morning in which the commentators randomly started a Kiss Cam during red flags.

Anyway, Enjoy :) -Admin J

It was busy in the Neo Culture Racing Team Garage, a red flag had brought the drivers back into the pit lane while repairs were made on the circuit barriers. Many people worked on the neon green cars to make sure they were set up perfectly for the race restart.

Both drivers were doing their own things around the garage. You were talking with your race engineer, while Jeno was sitting in a chair in the back of the garage, snacking on a protein bar while observing the work that was done on his car.

His eyes drifted away from the car towards the other side of the garage until they ended up on you. The way your head fell back as you laughed at something that your race engineer pointed out on the monitor in front of you. Intrigued by your reaction Jeno walked over, holding onto the race overall that was hanging on his hips, to see what had you laughing like that.

Noticing Jeno looming behind you you turned to greet him with a smile "They started a kiss cam." You pointed at the screen where the official broadcast was playing and sure enough they were showing a random couple in the stands blushing, embarrassed by the eyes of all the fans on them. They tried to avoid the kiss but finally gave each other a quick peck when the whole crowd started chanting "Kiss".

Jeno listened to your giggles as red hearts started showing up on the screen after the couples kiss, he couldn't help but smile as well. It was clear this whole Kiss Cam thing was an impromptu action by the film crew to entertain the fans during the red flag period. And Jeno had to give it to them the Kiss Cam was really entertaining.

He took the spot next to you after your race engineer walked away to observe the work on your car. That's when a loud roar from the crowd took his attention. He wasn't aware what they found so exciting, but then he felt you gripping his arm. You pointed at the screen and he realized that the camera had moved away from the stands and was now showing you two standing together in the garage.

He gave the camera a short wave assuming the camera crew would move to the next garage afterwards, however the camera kept pointing at the both of you. "I think they want us to do the Kiss Cam." You whispered and almost simultaneously the crowd started to chant "Kiss".

Jeno turned to face you "Would that be okay with you?" Your eyes widened in surprise but you eventually decided it was only a kiss for the camera, so why not? "Sure lets give the fans what the want." You laughed.

Without waiting another second Jeno's lips found their way to yours. A short and light kiss before both you pulled away blushing, the roar of the crowd almost deafening after what they had just witnessed. Finally the camera crew left the garage, but Jeno also hurried away without saying another word to you, leaving you a little flustered. Before starting to prepare for the upcoming race restart.

From his side of the Garage Jeno glanced over to you. He was happy to put his balaclava and helmet back on to hide his burning red cheeks. He hadn't really thought about what kissing you could make him feel something after all you had known each other for years. From championship rivals in Formula 3, to becoming friends during Formula 2 to finally teammates in Formula 1.

All this time he had never seen you in a romantic light so why now could he not get rid of the butterflies in his stomach? Why did it feel like the red hearts from the kiss cam had burned themselves into his vision whenever he looked your way? God, he couldn't even concentrate on the race as all he could think about where how he wanted to feel your lips on his again.

#kpop #kpop x reader #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop nct #nct #nct jeno #nct jeno x reader #nct imagines #nct au #f1!au #jeno x reader #nct drabbles #admin j #nct x reader

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minswriting · 52 minutes

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18+ nsfw | mdni | spencer reid x reader

warnings: p in v, loss of virginity, fingering (f), etc.

imagine losing your virginity with early season spencer. the both of you have never really slept with anyone before and after a private conversation after a case, the two of you had decided to lose it together. just friends helping friends right? that was until spencer had arrived to your place with a bouquet of flowers, standing awkwardly at your door, dressed in a fresh sweater vent, cardigan, and pair of slacks. and you? you were dressed in a simple summer dress.

you had prepared a meal, nothing too fancy. just a chicken and pasta dish that you thought would be good to have before anything and a glass of wine, to ease any tension. the two of you had a great time, just chatting, laughing with one another. the nerves you had felt previously had gone away as spencer told you random facts about random topics. it made you realize that your choice to lose your virginity with him was a good one.

“are-are you sure you still want to do this?” spencer asked after the two of you had made it to the bedroom, both of you sitting on your bed next to one another. “we don’t have to do it yet if we aren’t ready,” he added.

you looked at the brown haired boy, giving him a small smile. “i still want to,” you replied softly. “do you?”

spencer nodded his head, reflecting your smile on his face. “yes, i do,” he said. he brought a hand up to your check, moving a piece of hair that had fallen into your face and tucking it behind your ear. “can i uh- can i kiss you?” he asked.

“please,” you said.

spencer licked his lips before leaning in, hesitantly kissing your lips. the kiss was soft and tentative, something you hadn’t really felt before. you’ve had your first kiss of course but it never felt as…tender as this kiss. you kissed spencer back, putting a hand on the back of his head.

eventually it led to the two of you pawing at each other, the kiss getting hungrier and deeper. you both had taken your clothes off for the most part, except for your underwear. spencer wore a pair of plaid boxers while you wore a black bra and panties set.

spencer would lay you down gently, going on top of you shakily as he kisses your lips. his movements are tentative, shaky, a bit unsure. but you’re both more than eager. his hands roam your body while your arms are wrapped around his neck. his right hand gently grazes your bra, hesitating to massage the flesh underneath. so he pulls away from the kiss. “can i touch you?” he asked softly.

“yes,” you replied in the same tone.

spencer licked his lips, as he brought his hand underneath your bra, massaging the skin gently. you let out a soft moan as his fingers brushed against your nipple. he moved his hand to your back, shakily unclasping your bra and pulling it off of you. he threw the material to the other side of the room, taking in your breasts. “you-you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, looking at your tits and then at your face.

you gave him a smile. “thank you,” you said softly, allowing your hands to roam his torso.

spencer licked his lips. “you know, when your nipples are stimulated, they send sparks in the genital sensory cortex which is the same part of the brain as vaginal or clitoral stimulation,” he exclaimed, pressing kisses down your neck and onto your chest. he kissed your right boob before taking your nipple and putting it into his mouth. he sucked and licked on the nub.

you let out a soft moan, “oh,” you said, feeling your arousal pooling in your panties.

spencer used his other hand to trail down your body, his fingers making their way to the waistline of your panties. you let out a shaky breath, spreading your legs for your coworker. he slipped his fingers underneath the waistline, bringing them to your slit. he moved his middle finger down and up your cunt, spreading around the wetness before finding your clit and rubbing circles onto it.

you moaned again, this time your eyes fluttering shut as your pussy was finally being touched. with how knowledgeable spencer was, it wasn’t too surprising that he knew exactly what would pleasure you.

spencer continued to rub your clit in circles while sucking on your tits, making you feel as though your body was on fire. you could feel his bulge pressing into your thigh, signaling just how much this was turning him on. after a few minutes, spencer stopped rubbing your clit, his middle finger dipping down to your hole. you let out a shaky moan as he inserted his finger. “you’re so wet,” spencer murmured, looking at you as he thrusted his finger inside of you slowly.

you moaned, your eyes fluttering shut. the feeling was foreign but not bad. you’ve touched yourself a few times before but it had been different. your fingers were different from spencer’s. and his felt so good. “wet for you,” you whispered, licking your lips.

“yeah you are,” spencer smiled, adding another finger and curling it, hitting your g-spot.

you let out a louder moan, arching your back as he thrusted his fingers faster inside of you. “oh fuck!” you said. “f-for someone who’s never done this before, you-“ you moaned mid-sentence. “you know quite a bit.”

spencer let out a breathless chuckle, continuing his pace with his fingers. “i’ve studied a lot,” he replied, watching you.

you felt a heat building in your abdomen, signaling the beginnings of your release. you let out a whine of pleasure, your walls tightening around spencer’s fingers. “so close,” you said, bringing a hand to spencer’s shoulder to hold onto.

“yeah?” spencer said. “go ahead, cum for me, baby,” he replied as he worked his digits inside of you.

and so you came, thighs shaking, back arching, moaning. “spencer,” you moaned as you came. spencer fingered you through your orgasm and when you finished, you relaxed, breathing heavily. spencer removed his fingers from your cunt, looking at you with flushed cheeks. “you’re so beautiful,” he said, bringing his fingers to his mouth. he licked the digits, tasting your juices on his tongue. you watched him as he began to suck on his fingers. you bit your lip, watching him. even though you had just came, you felt yourself getting aroused again. “and you taste delightful,” spencer said as he stopped sucking on his fingers. he looked at you, licking his lips. “are you- are you sure you want to continue? i mean- you did just finish. i don’t want it to be too much for you,” he asked with consideration towards you.

“please,” you responded. “i want you, spence.”

and that was all spencer needed to smile and get up. “i- uh i came prepared of course,” he exclaimed, looking around the room for his pants. the bulge in his boxers was very prominent as you looked at him. you pulled your panties off, throwing them to the side as you waited for spencer. he grabbed his pants, pulling out a condom from the back pocket. he walked back over to the mattress, holding the packet in his hand. he swallowed thickly before slowly pulling down his boxers, revealing his hard length. he let out a hiss as the cool air hit his cock.

spencer’s cock was big to say the least. it was red and angry, begging to be touched. “you’re so big,” you whispered, almost amazed at the length. it wasn’t too girthy but it was perfect.

“you think so?” he asked a bit shyly.

you nodded your head, looking up at spencer with a smile. you looked back at his cock, licking your lips. spencer cleared his throat, ripping the condom package open and tossing the foil to the side. he began putting the latex on his cock, pulling it onto his length and ensuring it was on properly.

“are you ready?” he asked, looking down at you.

“yes,” you said clearly, looking up at spencer.

and then he was back on top of you. you spread your legs for him as he brought his cock to your pussy, teasing you by rubbing his tip against your clit, causing the both of you to let out small moans. “it’s going to hurt at first,” he murmured a bit shakily as he held himself up by one hand, his other guiding his cock.

“i’m a big girl, i can take it,” you replied softly, bringing a hand to spencer’s hair and moving a strand out of his face before resting it on his shoulder.

spencer leaned down to kiss you softly, slowly moving his lips against yours. he guided his cock to your hole, slowly and carefully easing himself inside. you inhaled sharply, feeling the stretch of having a cock inserted inside of you for the first time. “are you okay?” he whispered against your lips as he stopped for a moment.

you nodded your head, eyes closed in slight pain. “just keep going,” you whispered back, holding onto spencer.

and so he did. and when he finally bottomed out, he stayed still, allowing you time to adjust. he had read in several books that women tend to feel quite a bit of pain during their first time. so he wanted to ensure that you felt good before he began moving.

after a few minutes, the stinging began to ease up. and you could feel yourself relaxing. you swallowed, opening your eyes to see spencer’s beautiful brown orbs already looking down at you. “i think- i think you can move now,” you whispered to him.

“are you sure?” he asked, looking unsure.

“i’m sure.”

spencer nodded his head, leaning down once more to capture your lips with his as he moved his hips out and then back in very slowly. the both of you moaned. he began to get into a rhythm of moving slowly, relishing in the feeling of your tight and wet cunt around him.

“god, you feel so good around me,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours as he thrusted his cock in and out of you.

you let out a shaky moan as the pain turned into pleasure quite quickly. he was filling you up so deeply, something you had never felt before. and god did it feel good. “is so deep,” you said, gently clawing at his back. “you-you can move faster.”

spencer swallowed before moving his hips faster inside of you, causing you both to whine. it felt so good. you finally understood what everyone had been talking about. sex truly was pleasurable. and sex with spencer just certainly felt…perfect. it didn’t matter what else was going on in the world because you had him. and this experience is so much more than just sex with a coworker.

“fuck,” spencer moaned, grinding his cock inside of you. “i don’t think i can last,” he said, embarrassed.

you moaned, nodding your head. “that’s okay,” you replied, kissing spencer’s lips. “just as long as it feels good, that’s all that matters,” you reassured.

spencer let out a whimper, burying his face in your neck as he thrusted his hips. he moaned into your skin, moving his hips more frantically. you felt your own orgasm approaching as his cock kept hitting that spongy spot inside of you repeatedly. and with a loud whine, spencer was cumming, moaning your name as he came. it didn’t take long at all for you to follow, arching your back as you moaned spencer’s name at him.

and when you both finished, spencer pulled out, moving to lay right next to you. the both of you were breathing heavily, taking a moment to process exactly what had just happened. after a few minutes, you looked over at spencer, who turned his head to look at you, and the both of you smiled and laughed. “i can’t believe that just happened,” you said, laughing.

“ahh me neither,” spencer replied, moving so that he could put his arm underneath your head. “i’m glad it did though.”

you smiled. “me too,” you replied. “we’re definitely going to do that again,” you said.

“oh most definitely,” he said as he brought his fingers to your chin, lifting it to meet your lips with his.

after that, sex with your coworker became a normal thing. and it was safe to say that feelings eventually became involved.

#criminals minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #criminal minds #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x y/n

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sleepyfan-blog · 3 days

Text

Chase

Author’s note: The fourth fic for Nadesir! previous. Next

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @kit-williams

Warnings: kidnapping, violence, ask me if you want me to tag something else

Summary: Nadesir catches the trail of one of the lurking Alpha Legionnaires, but something more worrying comes up.

Nadesir silently made his way through the forest, using his wings to keep from leaving tracks on the ground. For reasons known only to them, the Dark Angel Interrogator Chaplain and the squad he had brought with him had decided to linger in the small human town, and had been terrorizing random Astartes by asking questions that made no fucking sense to him. Perhaps it was a Loyalist thing that they were chasing? Not that the Night Lord Raptor had made it his business to find out what the Dark Angels were up to - though he hoped that they would fuck off soon. With the Alpha Legionaries somewhere in the forest that he was currently flying through doing fuck knows what, the presence of another group of deeply mysterious and secretive Astartes was... Not great. While he was looking for four-legged prey to hunt, Nadesir was keeping a careful eye on his surroundings, just in case he caught a glimpse of a hydra lurking in these woods, or to catch their trail.

If he could find where they were hiding out in - when not sneaking around the town in the guise as other marines - it might help? If he could make his way through the Alpha Legion base, try to snoop through their things, to see if they had any plans written down - likely coded, if it was written down - he and the other bonded Astares who lived with their humans might have a clue as to what those teal-hued snakes were after. Not that Nadesir was of the opinion that they should give the Alpha Legionaries whatever it was they were after. Not with the underhanded groxshit that they've been pulling for months now.

Snap!

A branch broke loudly, startling the Night Lord, and Nadesir choked back the instinctive desire to hiss or growl at whatever had made such a sound, whirling where he was hovering to try and see the cause of the broken branch. At first, all he could see were several different kinds of trees - odd, as none of them were the type of tree to shed branches at this time of year unless the tree was damaged or sick somehow - when he saw a flash of teal and silver. A vicious smirk spread across his face beneath his helmet as he flew as swiftly and as silently as he could manage toward the brightly colored flash he'd seen.

He quickly approached where he'd seen the initial flash of silver and teal, noting that particular Alpha Legionnaire had indeed been caught in the deadfall trap that he'd left out for unwary prey, from the destroyed trap and the scrapings of paint on the underside of the large and heavy branch the other had likely been trapped - or partially - trapped under. There were a set of Astartes-sized footprints for him to follow deeper into the woods. The smirk on his face broadened to a grin, and he was about to fly off to hunt down his two-legged prey when he paused for a moment as he got a message from his bonded.

[You busy, Vanya?]

He hesitated for a moment before answering, using the text-to-speech feature in his helmet (making sure that his external comms were off - no need to potentially tip off to his prey that he was closeby) [Somewhat, but never too busy for you. Did you need something? I am on a hunt.]

[Oh, have fun! I just thought I saw you at the grocery store. Must have been another Night Lord.] She said, unintentionally causing Nadesir to panic a little.

He didn't know of any other Night Lords who lived in this area, and there were no Night Lords in the migratory war bands who passed through this town. At least, that had been true the last time one of the warbands had passed through, and they'd come and gone before this group of Alpha Legionnaires had decided to be spooky bastards. [... Be careful, darling. Most of my brothers are... Spectacular in how poorly socialized they are, to use your words. And it's possible that the Night Lord You saw was actually one of the shape-shifter Astartes borrowing someone else's form.]

[I'll keep that in mind. Have fun on your hunt, Vanya!] She texted back [I'll tell you when I get home.]

[See you soon, this hunt shouldn't take long.] Nadesir promised, anxiety and determination making his hearts beat quickly. He was torn between his desire to run the Alpha Legionnaire to ground, and flying back to his bonded... Especialy with this suspect Night Lord in town, he was worried that this might be some kind of trap or bluff -

Snap!

Another broken branch. Another flash of teal and silver paint.

A silent snarl left Nadesir as he lunged for his prey, while also making sure to send all of the information he'd gathered on this hunt to the Ultramarine Lieutenant who'd been put in charge of handling all information that the allied Astartes in the area had gathered on their wholly unwelcome visitors. That way if he was captured or went completely silent, they had some sort of clue as to what had happened to him.

The trees were too close together for Nadesir to fly properly, but he leapt from branch to branch in the upper canopy, gliding on silent wings as he sought out the Alpha Legionnaire he'd caught sight of twice, one hand on his bolter, the other helping to steady himself on the branch he leapt to, to keep from making too much noise.

It did not take long for the Night Lord to catch up with the single Alpha Legionnaire who was limping on the ground.

...

Why was there only one of them? Of the traitor legions (were Alpha legionnaires traitor? They were labeled such by the Loyalists, but Nadesir wouldn't be surprised if the true answer was much more complicated. Even so, was this Alpha Legionnaire a traitor, or was he from a time before the Horus Heresy?) the Alpha Legion almost never splintered off into groups fewer than two. He looked for signs of more Alpha Legionnaires, but did not find any. He kept pace with the bastard Hydra limping around on the ground, careful to keep behind him and moving as silently as possible, in the hopes that if the other did not know he was there, that he would not alert the other to his presence. And the injured Alpha fucker definitely seemed to be headed in a specific direction, rather than wandering around aimlessly.

Nadesir stalked the injured Alpha Legionnaire from the forest canopy, resisting the urge to swoop down and pounce on the bastard - to tear him limb from limb and leave a pretty little warning for his fellow teal fucks to find in the woods - patience was the mark of a true hunter, and if he was lucky, the other would lead him directly to wherever it was the group of Alpha Legionnaires were lairing. Hours passed, and the Alpha legionnaire eventually limped up a well-worn forest trail to a wooden cabin, knocking on it four times before entering.

Anticipation sung through the Night Lord's veins, but he again sent his current coordinates and a short explanation as to what he'd found to Lieutenant Ollias. He paused for a moment, realizing that his beloved bonded had sent him three more messages, while he'd been focused on the hunt, each more concerning than the last.

[I'm almost home, but I think I'll need to spend some time at a neighbor's place. I think someone's following me.]

then

[How badly socialized are most Night Lords, again? The one from the grocery store is trying to talk to me. Says he can smell you on me?]

and finally, a terrifying

[Help! He's ajklreg-]

The timestamp was half an hour ago. No no no no no! Nadesir knew that he should have turned around and gone to his beloved at the first mention of another Night Lord. It was too unusual a happenstance for it to be a good thing, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something awful had happened to his bonded. He could only hope that she was still alive. He'd been told by older Astartes that they had felt when their human had died. Had felt the bond snap as their sanity waned. Forcing down the panic, Nadesir closed his eyes as he reached out to the wonderful, strange bond that he had with his beloved human, trying to get a general sense of where she was, his body already moving towards where she was by the time he opened his eyes again.

He could hear and smell the large, unmarked van coming minutes before it arrived, its noisy engine and awful pollutants chugging along, with his bonded inside of it. The van was moving at speed - but no faster than Nadesir himself could run. He silently judged the distance before landing on the roof of the van with an unfortunate thud.

Nadesir dug his claws into the roof of the van, the inferior metals bending and buckling beneath his strength and frantic determination. the metal shrieked and screeched as he tore open a hole large enough to see what was going on.

His human was bound and gagged, held in place by a wide-eyed human male. She was struggling against him. There were several other humans in the van, two of whom were also bound and gagged, the other six trying to keep them in place. All three of the captured humans were bonded to Astartes. He leaned in, growling in the dominant human language "I don't care what foolishness you think you're up to, but I will be taking the humans you are foolishly attempting to kidnap. Resist and I will kill you."

"Y-y-you wouldn't dare!" One of the capturing humans stuttered. He stunk of fear and was dressed in a black suit and tie, with a white under-shirt. "I-I am-"

"I. Don't. Care. Who. You think you are. You attempted to kidnap my bonded, and the bonded of two others I consider allies and friends. Then again, I could leave you stranded here. The Hydra hunt in this region. I'm sure they would feast upon your fear and helplessness before tearing you apart." Nadesir hissed. Or he could leave them for the Salamanders to find. While they were loving and soft to those whom they cherished... Well, these idiots definitely would have roused the fury of the dragons. And enraged Salamanders were breathtakingly vicious and cruel.

"We... We... We still have a working-" Suit and tie stuttered uselessly.

Nadesir ignored his babbling, looking over to his beloved - who continued to struggle furiously against her captor. He reached for her, cutting the ropes off of her, offering her his combat knife "I'm going to stop the vehicle. I imagine these two's bonded aren't far behind you." He gently bumped his helmeted head against her forehead in a gesture of affection. "Strike hard and fast, my heart." Before he crawled back on top of the van, pulling his bolter from it's holster and shooting at the hood of the van, aiming for where the engine probably was, and blowing a large hole through the middle of it.

There was a lot of panicked shouting and wailing from the would-be kidnappers. Their symphony of fear was almost enough to provoke Nadesir to purr - but he wouldn't. Not until his precious human was safe. And that the other kidnapped humans were safe too.

Sure enough, he could see several large green Astartes sprinting down the road towards the rapidly slowing van. He waved at them from his perch, calling out to them over vox {You here to retrieve our kidnapped humans?}

{Yes! Your appearance is timely, if surprising. We were told you were on a hunt?} The lead Salamander asked. He was one of the Primaris Marines - larger and allegedly better than first born marines. The young dragon was sure a fast fucker, at any rate. Nadesir wasn't sure what his name was.

{I was. Then my human texted me for help, so I followed my bond to where my human is. I've given her my combat knife and freed her hands and legs, so the others who were captured are going to be freed soon too.} Nadesir explained, looking back into the hole he'd created. Sure enough, his beloved had freed the other two bonded humans - and was threatening Suit-and-Tie human at knife point, using methods he'd taught her. He's so proud of her. He calls out to her "Are you ready to go, love? Or do you want to kill your would-be capturer? Or I could kill him for you, and give you his heart to devour. Or his liver. Or both!" He was... Mostly joking. He knew that cannibalism wasn't something that most humans on ancient terra did unless under extreme circumstances and desperate. But he was leaning into the terrifying reputation that his legion had earned on Ancient Terra.

"... I'd rather they face the justice system, then have them killed out of hand, Vanya. Even if this shithead's parents are wealthy enough to pay off the courts." His human huffed, glaring darkly at suit-and-tie.

"Mmm, the squad of angry Dragons says otherwise, dearheart." Nadesir crooned. He doubted that these would-be kidnappers would last long in captivity, unless they had some very compelling information to give to the local chapter masters. "Then again, the Interrogator Chaplain has been getting restless... I'm sure he'd be delighted to... Mete out the due justice these fools have earned." Oh look, and the scary bastard and his posse were following the squad of furious Salamanders. "You never should have kidnapped our humans. Ready to go home, darling?"

His human blinked and smiled, handing him his combat knife. Instead, he picked her up, nuzzling her lovingly. "I thought you wanted to hunt?" she asked, confused.

"If you think that I am going to be anywhere but at your side for months after you got kidnapped, you should reconsider that idea. I... I am sorry to have failed in protecting you, beloved." Nadesir rumbled, guilt and shame gnawing at him. One of the would-be kidnappers tried to reach for a weapon, but with a flick of his wrist, he cut the bastard's offending hand off with one of his claws without looking.

"Hey... It wasn't your fault I got grabbed, love. And you came to get me as soon as you knew I was in trouble. I... I'd like to go home now. I'll talk to whoever Captain Urar sends to talk to me about what happened tomorrow." His beloved responded, shaking a little as she buried her face in his chest.

Nadesir kissed the top of her head. It was still a failure on his part that she'd gotten kidnapped - perhaps he needed to ensure his reputation was terrifying enough that none would dare approach her with covetous thoughts? Ah, but he didn't want to potentially scare her away, either... These were things to consider later, however. The squad of Salamanders had arrived and he nodded politely to the sergeant leading them, saying "I'm going to take my human home. We'll both give full reports of what we know happened tomorrow."

"That works for me, go on home." The sergeant responded. "And yes, I'm aware of the Pride half a klik behind me. They're bored and frankly, I think that letting them handle the idiots would be entertaining."

The night lord raptor nodded, holding his human closer as he took to the skies. She slowly started to relax in her arms, the fear and anxiety in her scent giving way to wonder and delight. She always did really enjoy it when he took her for a flight.

#space marine husbandry sentience #warhammer 40k #my writing #space marine husbandry #night lords #alpha legion #salamanders #dark angels #x reader #cw: kidnapping #cw: violence

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