#once a few of us tried to figure out ancient's ages and that was rather helpful | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

little-pondhead · 2 years

Text

Rejected Threads Pt. 1

[This is a series where I post the bits and pieces I decided to cut out of their final fics due to various reasons. I welcome anyone who wants to pick this up and make it their own. You do not need to ask for permission to use it, but I would like to be tagged in whatever you make. Just so I can see it :) ]

[Everything here is unedited and may ramble at times. Enjoy!]

---

Okay, so maybe Danny still had a thing or two to learn about being a ghost. It’s not his fault, really! Being dead doesn’t exactly come with a pamphlet introducing you to the afterlife! Although if his friends were here, they’d just berate him, saying this whole issue could have been avoided if he used his common sense, not his ghost sense. Which is fair. He’d give them points for that.

But come on. How was Danny supposed to know about the GIW’s latest invention? Honestly, it felt so cliche that Danny wanted to smash his head against a wall. He’d been hit by a shrink ray. Except it didn’t work right on ghosts, because it was made by normal people who’d never even seen a drop of ectoplasm in their life, so instead of shrinking him it de-aged him. He looked like a four-year-old! Ancients, he was never going to hear the end of this from Jazz.

Well, that was if he ever managed to make it back home.

Right now, he was leading the rogue government agents through the streets of some damp city jungle, swinging through gargoyles and avoiding blasts with a few nudges from the city spirit here and there. A few pedestrians screeched from the ground level and had to dive out of the way of the GIW’s armored van, but Danny was confident they wouldn’t be seriously hurt. A constant stream of energy was flowing between him and the city spirit, giving the spirit the strength needed to pull civilians away from the fight with a few shadowy fingers. In exchange, Danny was suddenly living life in the third person. He could see for miles around him, feel the heartbeat of the city underneath his fingertips, and hear the quiet whispers of children and shades settling down for the night. The city spirit was everywhere and had no problem lending their senses to Danny so he could get away. He knew he’d have a headache later from overstimulation, but right now it was a godsend.

From his enhanced view, Danny saw one of the agents lean out of their van, raising a gun toward his shadowy figure. They fired. He dodged. Is this how flies felt? Everything felt way too slow, and he could run circles around them with ease. Maybe once Amity’s spirit developed more, they could lend a hand like this one was. It was incredibly useful, if not draining. He probably wouldn’t have been hit by that stupid shrink ray in the first place if he could see behind him. Ope, Danny refocused his thoughts, almost missing the next swing. He should be paying attention more.

Where should I lead them? Danny asked the city spirit.

The spirit took a moment to reply, struggling to form human words. North. To the park.

Gotcha. After a moment, a thought crossed his mind. What’s your name?

…I am Gotham.

Nice to meet you, Gotham. I’m Danny Phantom.

Danny. The little king of the stars.

“What? No!” Danny was so startled by Gotham’s words that he really did miss the ledge of a building this time, falling like a dead weight for about twenty feet until he caught himself. He still stumbled as his feet hit the pavement, but it was a lot better than becoming a smear. Danny glanced around frantically, but there was no one on the street and he was still invisible. He could hear the screech of tires a few blocks away, almost missing the turn as the agents tried to follow him.

Now that there was some semblance of a plan in place, Danny needed to keep these guys on his tail rather than lose them. The shrink ray put off some very nasty vibes, which is how the GIW was tracking him, but maybe they could use a little guidance. Danny rose into the air once more, and at Gotham’s prompting, shot an ectoblast high into the sky, letting it explode like a firework far away from any buildings.

The Bats will notice, but this is the only way. Gotham remarked. It was getting easier to understand them the more they talked. I will hide you if it is your will.

Green eyes tracked the process of that damned white van for another two blocks, just until Danny knew their scanners would pick him up once more. Then he was off like a rocket, starting their little game of tag all over again as he led them closer and closer to the menacing grove of trees in the distance. Who are the bats? He silently asked.

The Bats. My knights.

You have knights?? That’s so cool. Danny panted, swerving to the left. His form flickered for just a moment, putting him onto the visible spectrum for a mere second before he was gone again. Don’t worry about me, I’ll hide myself for now. Once they’re gone from your borders. You should rest after this, I can feel the strain this has on you.

Little king is tired as well. Keep your strength.

Nah, I’ll be fine, Gotham. You were kind enough to offer me refuge until I figured things out. The least I can do is take care of my host.

Hm….

Gotham’s mind retreated from his own for a moment, pulling back so he could focus on the fight. Danny appreciated it. He finally reached the trees, shadows extending to greedily pull him into the depths of the park. Danny obliged, letting the shades and wayward spirits guide him toward the center of the property. The GIW was still hot on his heels, plowing down vegetation like it wasn’t even there. A ripple ran through Gotham like they were waiting for something, and Danny almost stopped to see what the issue was, but Gotham just kept nudging him along. Danny trusted the other spirit and floated silently next to a gnarled and crooked tree that stank of chemicals and twitched whenever he turned his back. Beyond the tree was a vast patch of land filled with mutated plants and dense fog that Danny definitely did not want to breathe in. There was a broken down and shabby glass greenhouse in the distance, the source of the plants and fog. Well, this was as far as Gotham wanted him to go, so this was where he’d make his last stand.

The GIW agents tore into the clearing, skidding to a stop a few meters away. Out climbed three men, guns charged and already pointed at him.

“Reveal yourself, Phantom! We know you’re there!” One of them, Danny remembered him as Agent R, barked. His gun was the biggest, and Danny was sure he’d be the hardest to dodge. Gotham shushed his thoughts, calming his nervous core, and told him to wait. To stall.

Stall for time? He could do that. “You’re so mean!” Danny flipped upside down, fading into existence. He gave the men a sharp grin, one too shark-like to be human. “We were having such a fun game of tag! Why can’t we keep going?”

Agent B, a short guy with a bright red mustache, stepped forward and jabbed his weapon toward Danny. “This is not a game, ghost!” He squeaked. “You are in violation of section two, paragraph three of the First Anti-Ecto Act. By order of Agent Alpha, you are hereby under arrest for unlawful-”

Danny snorted. “Sorry, Agent Alpha? What, is his first name Chad? Is his boyfriend’s name Omega?”

“His name is Mike Foxtrot! You insensitive bastard!” Agent B spat.

“Agent B!” The third man, who was probably their leader, slapped a hand down hard on his subordinate’s shoulder. Danny didn’t blame him. This was the most information he’d ever managed to worm out of them in less than two minutes. He mentally pats himself on the back for the new record.

“Listen, guys.” Danny raised his hands in faux surrender. “You may have turned me into a preschooler, buth-” He blushed violently. He bit his tongue, ruining the intimidating effect he was going for. “But I can still kick your ass seven ways to Sunday. Whaddya say we leave it at this for now?”

“Absolutely not, Phantom.” Agent R ordered. “You are to come with us quietly or we’ll be forced to use extreme force.”

“Extreme force?!” Danny shrieked, losing his smile. “You already use extreme force! I’m a fucking kid, you psycho!” Rage built in his chest, and green made his vision swim.

Let it build. Gotham urged. Let yourself cry.

Danny sniffed, still ranting. “And now that I’m an even smaller kid, you want to arrest me?! What did I even do wrong?”

“You are a class 7 ecto-entity, Phantom. Your very existence is illegal and dangerous.”

Danny let a few tears drip from his eyes, falling onto the weird plants below. A few flowers twitched out of the corner of his eye, turning to face him like a human would. The trees surrounding the cleaning seemed to lean in, looming ominously as their roots thrashed under the dirt. They were trying to reach for something, but Danny didn’t mind it. Gotham whispered that the plants were no danger to him right now, so he just kept working himself into an emotional frenzy. “I DIED!” He cried. “IS BEING DEAD A CRIME NOW?!”

Gotham shivered. Wail. They instructed. Danny did.

“WHY DO YOU KEEP HURTING ME?!” His scream echoed throughout the city, carrying all the pain and anguish he could muster on such short notice. The connection he had to Gotham strengthened for those few precious moments, supplying him with enough energy so he wouldn’t pass out and transform. He did, however, collapse into the crooked tree, barely noticing how the branches seemed to cradle his limp body. The agents were blown back from the force, tumbling head over heels as their weapons were lost in the wind and their van tipped over. The nearest trees suddenly burst forth with staggered movements, surprising even Danny. Dirt was thrown everywhere as roots reached up to grab the men, restricting their movements to an almost painful degree.

This whole thing was so unexpected that Danny just kind of sat there, being cradled like a baby by the creepiest tree in existence, listening to Gotham’s victorious hums as the GIW agents struggled against their new bonds. More roots took on a life of their own, twisting and bending their way through the van, smashing all the equipment, and tearing apart weapons without hesitation. It was just so bizarre. Small footsteps from behind made Danny’s ear twitch. He glanced over his shoulder.

Approaching him from the fog was a beautiful woman who looked like she’d been made of plants herself. Her hair was a startling red, similar to Jazz’s, and her skin was such a rich and vibrant green it couldn’t have been body paint. Strands of ivy and flowers of all sorts were woven into her hair and clothes. Danny almost pegged her for the reincarnation of Gaea but thought better when he felt none of the Realm’s influence in her soul. No, this was a mortal woman who felt more like a daughter of Undergrowth than Sam ever did. He didn’t feel afraid, however, and instead allowed the tree to lift him to eye level with the woman.

Pamela Lillian Isley. Gotham whispered excitedly. My precious gardener.

“I am Poison Ivy,” The woman declared. “What are you doing near my lands, kid?”

Danny rubbed the tears out of his eyes furiously. “Sorry,” he sniffed. “I just-they were-” He broke out in hiccups, and couldn’t complete his sentence.

Poison Ivy, for her part, was curious about this obviously meta kid who’d stumbled across her beloved greenhouse. It wasn’t hard to feel the disturbance from all the way across the city, and her pace doubled when she felt a child’s tears fall onto one of her ferns. She didn’t despise children, and so had no plans to hurt whomever she found. But she knew that the fog surrounding her precious greenhouse was toxic. Then she’d arrived just in time for the kid to let out the most inhuman cry she’d ever heard. It was full of anguish and pain, shaking her to the core. It sounded like the kid was dying. She wasted no time capturing the three men who were hunting the kid, using the roots of nearby oak trees to give them a little squeeze. As an afterthought, she also destroyed their equipment and van. Everything looked a little too high-tech for her liking. The kid looked worn out, dazed, and exhausted. She made sure the tree he was in held the boy gently while he stammered, struggling to answer her question.

“They don’t like me. They -hic- keep trying to hurt me.” Danny finally managed to settle on a response. Poison Ivy gave the three men a deadly stare. How could they hurt such a tiny kid?!

“Well, I don’t know how to help you kid, but I can direct you toward one of the Bats. They’ll probably take you home.” She said, still staring straight into the eyes of one of the men. He seemed especially uncomfortable with the vines wrapped around his torso.

The kid shook his head adamantly. He floated gently upwards, an apology dripping from his lips. “Sorry, but I’ll find my own way back tonight. Feel free to do whatever you want to those men, they’re mean to me so I don’t care. And thank you for your help, Miss Isley.”

Startled by the use of her real name, Poison Ivy turned back to where the kid had been floating, but he had disappeared without a trace. Because of course he did.

She sighed, turning back to her prisoners. “Now what should I do with you?” She asked to the empty air. The only response she got was a rustle in the wind and a grunt of frustration from a man with a red mustache.

---

Final ficlet can be found here: Kicking Names and Taking Ass, All Before Naptime

#rejected threads #danny phantom #dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc

344 notes · View notes

quibbs126 · 2 years

Text

I’ve been drawing more of my North and South Dragons these past couple days

I tell you, for some reason it’s been really hard for me to make a full sketch page like I used to. I think it’s because my brain now thinks it needs every sketch to be connected with one another in terms of characters and things I’m going for, when before that wasn’t really the case. But whatever, I’ll figure that out

So first up I had some normal Cookie disguises for Choco and Milk Creme, in which they go by their actual names, just omitting the Dragon bit, mostly because most Cookies don’t actually know their real names and it’s just easier. I based Choco off the physicians and Milk the warriors just because I wanted to base them off other NPCs in the kingdom, and doing different roles seemed more interesting. Another design idea was making them look more like some of the villagers we see, like Milk Creme looking like one of the Milk Tribe, but I just went with this instead. Maybe those are other disguises they use when they feel like it

With their colors, I wanted to make them look more like Dark Cacao, giving them purplish eyes (though they’re more of a pink), and I gave them somewhat similar dough colors, with Choco Creme’s being darker and Milk Creme’s being lighter. They’re also supposed to have long hair (though probably not as long as his), they just keep it tied up

So since I based them on Cookies in the Citadel, I decided that these guys actually show up in the Citadel. Every couple decades, they disguise themselves as members of the Citadel, Choco Creme a physician and Milk Creme a soldier, and spend a few days there, just to see how things are going with Dark Cacao and his kingdom. The other people of the Citadel know they’re odd, as they mysteriously show up one day and mysteriously leave shortly after, and no one has seen them outside of those days, not to mention there are those who have been there long enough to see them more than once and know they haven’t aged since last time, but at this point they’ve been showing up for longer than anyone but Dark Cacao knows, and he seems to be fine with them, so they’re just something people accept. Many suspect that they’re the Twin Dragons, but no one knows for sure. During one of these, they’ve met Dark Choco Cookie (though they likely first met him as a freshly baked Cookie), when he was a child. They probably told him who they are, but he’s meant to keep it a secret, which he does. Not sure if they know what happened to him though

Anyways, then I wanted to draw the two and Dark Cacao as smalls, with younger versions of their designs. To be honest, not sure I’m satisfied with these designs; I know I had a lot of trouble with the hair and I ended up just giving up, and it was a similar story with their outfits. I tried to base them off of Dark Cacao’s new flashback outfit, because I’m imagining that he would have gotten it from them. I also wanted to give them identical outfits, since they were a lot more attached to each other when younger. Over time they grew to individualize themselves more rather than just being a pair, but this was before then. For Dark Cacao I redesigned that young look I gave him before, making it have darker colors. I think I like this one better, I feel like it looks more like him? Also I’m aware that the fabric is facing the wrong way on his outfit, that was supposed to be intentional

To be honest, now that I’ve finished Episode 14, I feel like changing my personal headcanon for Dark Cacao’s backstory, but I was already making this before doing that, so I’ll just do that later. But some things I plan on keeping is that as a young child he ended up lost and alone in the mountains, the dragons find him and take him in, he grows up essentially a loner of the wilds, who goes around helping other Cookies, he meets the Ancient Cookies and we know the rest from there. Which I now realize is essentially the backstory I already gave him, but in my head there are more differences, like the dragons’ age when they meet him and stuff like that. And I might just throw it all out and start fresh. I dunno I’ll work on it

And the last one I did mostly just to fill up space, but it’s supposed to be one of them finding him and bringing him back with them. I like to imagine they’re big enough to hold him in one hand. Also it’s supposed to be like that ferret thing, but maybe I’ll draw that more clearly later. But they do pick him up in one hand and throw him around like a rag doll.

Also the dialogue is in parentheses because they’re supposed to be talking in the Dragon language, but I don’t know what that would look like, so just assume it’s in another language but being translated

Anyways yeah, dragons

#I think maybe the difficult thing with their hair is the fact that I made most of their heads bare #I dunno not sure if it looks right #also I don’t know where the two are taking Dark Cacao in the second drawing #but it’s either home something they want to show him #or they just like to walk around together in a little chain #with him in the middle #actually I think that was what I was originally going for #also I didn’t draw their markings on their heads bc I just couldn’t get it to look right with their eyes #but assume it’s face paint and they just start putting it on later #I think that was it #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run oc #black dragon of the north #white dragon of the south #choco creme dragon cookie #milk creme dragon cookie #dark cacao cookie #my ocs #my art

50 notes · View notes

english8muffin · 4 years

Text

Vogue morning routine

Y/N Y/N/L’s guide to effortless natural makeup

Summary: you are asked to do the Vogue Beauty Secrets video and your two boys decide to join the party

Word count: around 2000

Warning: none, just pure floof!

I apologize in advance if there are any spelling and/or grammar mistakes, English is not my first language (+ this is my very first fic)

HEADLINE Henry Cavill’s new girlfriend, designer Y/N Y/L/N reveals her everyday morning routine in recent Vogue video: Y/N Y/L/N shows off her secrets to the perfect fusion of European and Asian beauty.

You stood in the spacious bathroom of the hotel room, only wearing a big, fluffy, white robe, that was actually Henry’s. But since the man was in the gym, you took the opportunity to lend it and bathe yourself in his musky smell, that calmed your nerves. Last night you started panicking, thinking you would probably look stupid for the entire world to see, luckily Henry and Kal tried to calm you down with cuddles and kisses.

This was the first ‘interview’ you would do, being such a young, successful entrepreneur really caught the attention of the media. When you first started your small online shop, you never would have thought you would end up here. Five years later, with a steady income, the job you always wished for and the man you had a crush on since the first time you laid eyes on him. Being a creative, it really made your heart soar with happiness, seeing all your products, your babies, in new homes where they would make others happy.

You were really proud of yourself. Henry was as well, and he made sure you and everybody around you knew. You were apprehensive at first, being with such a well known actor, who was also much older than you, it made you nervous of what people would say, what the media would say. You didn’t want to tarnish Henry’s image. You knew there were people with a much bigger age gap, but still, people were ruthless. So you both decided to take it slow, being careful with going out in public and social media posts.

You stand in front of the large mirror, which had a camera attached to it and open up your makeup bag. Right before you went into the bathroom, you made yourself a nice cup of tea, trying to stay calm. “Hi! I’m Y/N and today I am going to show you my everyday makeup routine,” you say with a smile, “I am not a dermatologist so please don’t take what I say too seriously.”

You grab a small white washcloth and hold it up, so it was in the frame, “First, I am going to wash my face and put on a few drops of serum,” You dampen the cloth and wipe it over your face and neck. You put a few drops in the palm of your hand and pat them into your skin. “Now I going to use my jade roller to massage the serum into my skin. It’s quite funny seeing so many people use these nowadays. In ancient China they were mostly used by the elite to keep there skin ageless. They would call jade the Stone of Heaven. It’s really helpful for the people who wake up with a puffy face like me,” you chuckle.

Somethimes you’d wake up with puffy cheeks, which led to Henry calling you his chubby bunny in the morning.

“Just a quick tip, and this is for everybody, make sure you always use SPF. I personally use SPF 30 and this one is shine control, since I tend to get an oily skin, but you can also use a regular one or a foundation with SPF in it. Believe me when I say your skin will be thankful.”

You grab the small tube of sun cream and show the amount you’ll use. You even convinced Henry to wear SPF everyday. At first he said he didn’t think it would make such a big difference, but when he realised you were going to be the one to put it on him, he was convinced about its benefits and adamant to wear it everyday. After working the thick cream into your skin, you put on some lipbalm and rummage through the pouch in front of you. When you find the product you’re looking for, you hold it up. “Now, I am going to put on a bit of concealer, this one is from Maybelline. After this, I will use a lighter shade under my eyes and on my acne scars that I have here,” you point and circle around the small cluster of scars on the sides of your cheeks.

Before blending out the concealer, you smile at the lens and put in two bright yellow hairclips, to keep your dark locks from falling into your face. “I probably should have done this at the start,” you laugh. The nerves creeping up a little. It wasn’t that you where a shy person, but knowing thousands of people will watch this, did something to you. You were always a very easygoing person, who could talk with pretty much everybody. But knowing people were going to watch you do something so intimate in a way, and would probably comment on it, scared you a little. While you would be 100% yourself, doing something as mundane as getting ready. If they didn’t like you now, then they probably won’t like you later. And that was what made you so afraid.

The bathrobe falls a bit down your shoulder, but you ignore it, since your hair fell down your shoulders in big waves. “Okay, brows. I used to block them in really dark when I was younger, but now I try to keep a light hand. I’ll use this Got 2B Glued as a brow gel afterwards. The tails of my eyebrows tend to move if I don’t use a strong enough gel. If you’re Asian you will understand the struggle.”

You quickly finish your brows, put some bronzer on your face and eyelids and take out your liquid eyeliner. “Am I the only one that acts like I’m a beauty guru whenever I do my makeup? Like, I’m just acting as if I’m used to this, right now, but to be honest, I was really nervous to do this video for Vogue,” you admit, “they will probably regret asking me,” you chuckle. You finish your eyemakeup with curling your long lashes, thanks to your mother’s genes, and add a coat of mascara.

You take in a deep breath, excited to show everyone the product you had been waiting for. “The next thing I am really proud to show you guys, because I designed the packaging. This is the new limited edition blush and highlighter palette from Dior, which they created for Lunar New Year!” You beam with pride, holding up the elegant looking palette. It had a darker toned glossy finish and the borders were the traditional Chinese looking frames, which were 3D and were surrounded by a wild variety of peonies. In the middle of the lid was your Chinese calligraphy in big golden brush stokes that said ‘year of the Ox’, the clasp was designed so it resembled an antique Chinese coin and on the side hung a jade charm.

“You can pre-order this palette now, I think they will put a link-thingy in de description. I wish you all a happy and blessed Lunar New Year, 祝农历年新年快乐牛年大吉!”

Just as you’re about to add some blush to your cheeks, the bathroom door creaks open and a curly-headed, sweaty Henry pops his head in. Fresh from the gym, and were you thankful for his new intense workout, because he was truely a sight to behold. A cheeky smile graces his handsome face when he spots you in front of the mirror, only wearing his robe, which made his grin widen.

“what are you doing in here? Are you hiding from me? Playing hide and seek is it?” he teases and rakes his large hand through the tousled curls, but just as he’s done speaking, he sees the camera behind you, and blushes. “Oh, I didn’t know you were filming, I’m sorry darling,” he smiles and gives a small wave in the direction of the camera. You led out a giggle, cheeks turning red already, if he’d keep this up, you wouldn’t need to add blush. You couldn’t focus anymore, he looked so attractive, only wearing his black gym shorts and a tight dark blue tank top. Damn that camera, otherwise you would have jumped him. Henry, thought the exact same thing. Seeing you, only wearing his robe and your hair still a bit wild from this morning’s cardio, made him hold back a moan. Those two cute, yellow clips in your hair could have fooled him, because you were anything but innocent.

Before he’s about to close the door again, he blows you a kiss. But his actions are stopped when a big bear makes his appearance. Bolting past his dad’s legs, Kal comes into the bathroom. Henry tries to catch him but misses. The black and white akita excitedly sniffs his head around the sink, trying to see what you were up to with all the stuff lying on the marble counter.

“Kal!” Henry whisper-yelled, trying to stay hidden behind the door. But you could still see his massive body crouched down behind the wood. It was rather funny, seeing the large man so panicked about getting his dog to listen. It kind of reminded you of that one video from BBC were a professor was being interviewed and his baby and nanny showed up in the background. While Henry tried to get Kal’s attention, the dog just sat next to your legs, and smiled when you pet him behind his ear. He was your good boy.

You both knew there was no other option but to keep Kal here, once he saw you do your makeup, he wanted to watch and get his ‘makeup’ done as well.

Henry also saw the look in Kal’s eyes and let out a sigh. Might as well stay with his two loves. He stood up from his position and walked to you, wrapping his sweaty but oh so save body around your figure, and placed a prolonged kiss on the exposed skin just by your shoulder. So far for taking it slow… He pressed himself thighter against your back, hiding his face in the crook of your neck and intertwined your hands, slowly rocking you two back en forth. “You look beautiful, my love,” he whispered, so only you could hear it, at least you hoped the camera wouldn’t pick that up. You let out a little giggle, like the inner schoolgirl you were whenever he was around you.

“Kal loves when Y/N does his makeup as well, don’t you boy,” Henry explains with a smile and looks down at the bear by your bare feet. Kal gives a small ruff and sweeps his tail eagerly. “Did you show them what you made,” he asked you with a wide smile, and looked straight in to the camera, “she worked really hard on that design, so I hope you all like it,” he declared proudly.

You ended up doing your makeup routine with your two boys in the background. Henry left for a few minutes to shower in the second bathroom your hotelroom had, and came back clad in a pair of light jogging trousers and a sweater. Even though you were inside, it was still a bit too chilly to walk around in short sleeves, being mid-winter and all. He just sat on the small wooden bench by the door, still in frame for everybody to enjoy and behold. His hair now damp. He was reading in a book and patiently waiting for you to get ready, occasionally looking up and laughing when you would wet your hands or Kal’s special makeup brush in the sink and pretend to do his makeup. The dog would bark excitedly and give you kisses. “Wow Kal, you look so pretty,” Henry told the big floof with the chuckle.

“Okay, this was my -somewhat- everyday makeup routine! Thank you guys for watching this chaotic mess, hope you laughed a bit, bye-bye, 再见!” How do those vlogger end their videos? Smash like and subscribe?

Behind you Henry looked up from the pages of his fantasy book and arched his brow, “Hey! No shout-out for your special guests? See you all next time!”

WOOHOO!! This is my very first fanfic, I really hope you enjoyed it. Liking, reposting and commenting would mean a lot to me! If you do repost this, please do not edit or copy my work. I worked really hard on this.

Much love, Nahmi xxx

Masterlist can be found HERE!

Want to be notified whenever I post something?

HERE IS MY TAG LIST!

982 notes · View notes

phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Note

#9 “Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me.” with Obi-Wan & Jango & Satine? (... or Obi-Wan/Jango/Satine, I'm not picky)

Hurt/Comfort Dialogue Prompts

Oh, I'm going to make this deeply stupid and AU because I got struck by a plot bunny and I'm taking it out on a prompt.

Satine hates the man named Jango Fett.

They've met before, once or twice. He'd known her father, before the latter's assassination. She'd met Jango when she was a child, before he'd lost his people at Galidraan, before she'd lost her sister to a terrorist group and her father to a blaster shot. She'd thought him gruff but kind, at the time, and very sad.

Now, she just wants him to trip on a pipe and brain himself on one of the many rusted, broken beams around them. She won't strangle him herself, won't turn her back on her oaths and commit violence, but she's not too proud to hope for an accident.

"Pick up the pace, princess."

"I am a Duchess," she snaps, lifting her skirts to step delicately over something that might have been machinery at one point.

The only light they have is from his helmet, and the only reason she hasn't fallen from the fabric catching on some matter or other is that he has a sense for when she gets caught.

He'd suggested that she pull the skirts up to gird her loins, and then found that the numerous layers made it impossible. He'd offered to cut the skirt down to something more manageable, without depriving her of the coverage she still needed in the cold of these darks, dank ruins. He'd then found that the vibroblade did nothing against the skirts.

(She was a pacifist, not stupid. Of course her clothing was reinforced.)

"I don't care," he says back through grit teeth. She's not sure why he hasn't just left her for dead, but she's not going to complain. Much. "Just move."

They've been making their way through the ruins for hours. They still don't know how they got here. They have no way to find out.

They just head up, and hope it gets them somewhere.

(Signs litter the walls, all in a script unfamiliar to them. Archaic, or simply foreign, they don't know.)

"Wait."

She freezes.

Fett moves behind her, light shifting with the noise of his beskar, and then he says, "I'm going to turn out the light for a second. Give us a minute to adjust to the dark after I do. I think I saw something glowing, but I can't tell with the flash on."

She nods, sure that he can see it, and they are engulfed in the dark again.

It's not for long, because the glow that Fett described is real. Faint, far off down the hallway and a pale blue that winks in and out in multiple spots at once, but there.

"We'll need the light to make it there without you getting rust sickness," Fett mutters. He flicks the headlight back on. "Might get some kinda hint out of it, whatever it is."

"You'd risk it?"

"Don't have any other choice," Fett tells her. "Move out, Princess."

----

They reach the blue glow, entering a large, cavernous atrium, just as dark as the rest of the ruins so far, but much less cramped than the previous hallways.

It is mostly floating motes of something, and the something in question makes Satine's skin crawl. She has no idea what it is. She doesn't think Fett does either, but he's a little busy trying to get a scan of the room around them. Satine can just barely see the floor from the blue light, and she steps closer carefully. Part of her screams about deep sea fish and wild space ancients, creatures that use light to hunt, but they've had nothing else yet. No hints.

This place feels ancient. Perhaps the spirits that linger are even older.

"Kryze!"

"I'm fine," she calls back, deliberately refusing to understand the man's worry. She just... reaches out.

And one of the blue lights comes to her.

Fett swears and comes closer, but Satine pulls her hands to her chest, cradling the little light to herself. It's larger than she'd expected, perhaps the size of a Chandrila plum. It's warm, too.

"You're going to get yourself killed," Fett snaps.

"It's friendly," she says. "I think."

"You think," Fett hisses, the noise crackling through the vocoder. He puts a hand on her shoulder. "Listen--"

The lights coalesce. They are, for the moment, blinding, and Satine flinches away.

Fett has a blaster out before Satine can even open her eyes again. She knows the noise better than she'd like. She can identify which blaster it is by the click of the safety alone.

Any Mandalorian her age can.

"Oh dear," an unfamiliar voice says. "I'm afraid that--well, yes, Mando, hello there. I'm afraid that the blaster won't do much to me. I'm already long dead, you understand."

When Satine manages to blink the spots out of her vision, it's to see a glowing, slightly blue-tinged human figure in clothing that is distinctly Jedi, if very... very outdated.

The man--she thinks it's a man, beards usually indicate such--smiles and waves at her. "I apologize for the light show. It's been quite some time since I've had reason to take a solid form."

"I can imagine," Satine says, her voice weak even to her own ears. The man isn't much older than her, or at least wasn't when he... died? Or perhaps he was elderly when he died, and just rolled his age back as this spirit for some reason.

He smiles kindly, and then looks past her shoulder to Fett. He rolls his eyes, and smirks, and says, "Su cuy'gar, Mand'alor."

"I am not Mand'alor," Fett growls out. "I don't hold that title anymore."

"You do in spirit," the figure claims. "None other can say the same, not yet."

Before Fett can argue further, the man smiles pleasantly, and says, "I don't suppose you could remove yourselves from my shrine? Just a few steps back, thank you."

Satine looks down. She notices the raised platform and carved sigils and the stone column she hadn't seen in the earlier darkness, and flushes. She steps back and down, and Fett does the same.

"Now," the figure says. "As I was saying--"

"What are you?" Fett demands. "Ghost of a Jedi?"

"Something like that," the figure allows. "I was not just a Jedi, but... yes, I'm something you could call a ghost. I'd prefer simply a spirit."

"Like the ka'ra," Satine mutters, and grunts in disagreement.

"Those, Duchess, are only Mandalorians."

"Then I suppose it is fitting that I am both," the spirit says, and his form shifts.

Armor. It does not cover all of him--his pelvis and head are distinctly bare--but the shapes are distinctly Mandalorian. The colors aren't quite exact, with the blue glow he carries about him, but she's fairly certain she's seeing blue, green, and black. Reliability, duty, and justice.

Fitting, for a Jedi. The symbol for the Order is on his pauldron, even, and the hilt of his saber hangs easy at his side.

The gasp that comes through Fett's vocoder is harsh. She can't imagine he likes this.

"You--" he cuts himself off, takes a breath audible even past the helmet, and tries again. "There is no way you are Tarre Vizsla."

"No, I'm afraid not."

"So you must be Obi-Wan Kenobi."

The man smiles and tucks his hands into his sleeves, the swinging of the fabric allowing them the glimpse of vambraces beneath. He ducks his head in a shallow nod. "I am indeed."

Satine feels how empty of blood her own face is. She can't imagine Fett is doing much better.

"This is the Kar'ta-yaim be talyc rang," Fett mutters, horrified in a way that Satine feels her own self echoing. "You..."

"Well, we certainly never called it that," Kenobi says, head tilting faintly. "But I imagine that after the siege... Yes, Temple of Bloodied Ash would certainly reflect our final days."

It was one of the few stories that didn't pit Jedi and Mandalorians against each other, in the histories.

It had been the first attempt to coexist, the warriors of the saber and the warriors of iron. None managed to wed the two philosophies the way Kenobi had, but that hadn't mattered. They'd lived together, in peace. The reports had been clear enough, that there hadn't been weapons storage. There hadn't even been real defensive measures, barring the force fields. The Jedi had refused to let war reach this building, even whilst the Sith still raged across the galaxy. The other temples could handle the atrocities afar. The children, the elderly, the infirm, they were all to find a home here. The only weaponry were the sabers and whatever metals the Mando'ade carried in their armor.

Just a place of peace, a home to research, to children, to hospitals, all slaughtered to the last man, and set ablaze after. Nobody had ever tried such an attempt at peace between Mandalore and Jedi since. The location has been lost for longer than anyone remembers, but...

"Why are we here?" Satine asks.

"I wonder," Kenobi says, seeming far too pleased for the revelations of the last minute. He strokes at his beard, and then turns and sweeps an arm across the air. As he does, a whirring noise surrounds them, stuttered and heavy, but growing in power. Bit by bit, the sections of the wall that he'd gestured at begin to glow.

There are lights set into the wall like circuitry, warm and bright. The generators, which much be centuries old, at the least, continue to run.

"They draw energy from the river in the mountain," Kenobi says, before either of them thinks to ask. "Come along, my dears."

Satine hesitates. So does Fett.

Kenobi turns, presumably noting that their footsteps aren't following him. He smiles, and the corners of his eyes crinkle.

Satine can't remember how old he supposedly was, at his death. His eyes are much older, but...

"I assure you, it's perfectly safe," he tells them. "The building won't hurt you."

"The building?" Fett asks, sounding perhaps a little more dubious than the situation warranted. They were already talking to a figure of legend.

"Yes, the building," Kenobi repeats, indulgent in a way that Satine would have found irritating if aimed at her, but rather approved of like this. "The walls are already straightening out, I feel. And the droids are going to be clearing out the debris soon enough. The rust will be a little difficult to manage, of course, but..."

"What do you mean the walls are going to straighten out?" Satine asks. "And how... this place has been dead for centuries, hasn't it? How did you wake it?"

"Duchess Kryze, I didn't wake the Temple," Kenobi tells her. She doesn't know how he got her name. "You did."

She doesn't know what to say in response. She stays quiet, and waits for him to elaborate.

"Is it because she woke you up?" Fett asks, clearly unwilling to play a waiting game. "You're a... guardian? The keyholder to the power?"

"Mand'alor," Kenobi says, with a smile playing on his lips behind the carefully-groomed beard, "I am the Temple."

What.

He smiles and starts walking backwards, gliding in a way that makes it clear he doesn't need to step, really, because his feet don't stay planted where he puts them. They have to follow, now, or risk losing him. "My consciousness, my very self, is woven into every bit of this building. I have no flesh, not anymore, but while my sense of self stays coherent in the Force... the Temple is my body."

"How?" Satine demands, hurrying to keep up. She tries to ignore the way the flagstones shift and settle ahead of her, still and level by the time she steps forward. She tries to ignore the grinding of metal, as it's pulled into the walls like it's soup instead of stone. She tries to ignore the creaking of the foundation about them, and stays focused on the pleasant smile of one of the only two Mandalorian Jedi in history that maintained the balance.

"Do your history books carry the name of my apprentice?" Kenobi asks.

"Skywalker," Fett says immediately. "And... Tano, I think, before she changed it. She escaped, didn't she?"

"Yes, she was away at the time," Kenobi says, voice distant for but a moment. Somewhere far off among the tunnels, there is a mighty crash. "I'd fought until I couldn't any more. My armor, what I had of it, protected me from the flames. I'd worn a helmet during the siege, and it filtered the smoke, even as I lay dying from other wounds... between that and the Force, I lasted long enough that Anakin found me. The others had all died of smoke inhalation, if they hadn't succumbed to their injuries or the flames themselves by that point."

"The fire didn't reach you?" Fett questions.

"Mm, no, the alcove I was in was all stone, and there wasn't anything flammable enough nearby to reach," Kenobi says, sounding distant again. "In any case, Anakin found me. He was... distraught. Desperate. Not entirely sane, I think, but with what he walked into, I can't find it in myself to fault him."

"Master Kenobi," Satine finds herself saying. "What did he do?"

Kenobi's smile is sad. She'd call it resigned, really. He's lived--sort of--with this situation for centuries now. It makes sense. "He took my mind, my soul in the Force, and 'saved' it in a way that would leave me tied to the world past my death. It was ingenious, but... I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. I don't think Anakin realized what he was doing until long after he'd already succeeded at the impossible."

"He cursed you," Fett declares.

Kenobi shrugs. "I think he expected the temple to be cleaned and re-inhabited again soon enough. It wasn't, as you can see. The generators have been gathering power for centuries, but the fire destroyed most of them, and we didn't have anything in reserve with how much we poured into the shields during the battle. I couldn't fix the ruins, and with the horrors that had occurred, nobody was coming back. Anakin said he would, he promised, but... he disappeared. He visited, and he spoke with me, but a few years in he was simply... lost. I had a connection to his ship's signal, and it winked out in the blink of an eye, and never came back."

Oh. Terrifying.

"For all that I am the Temple, now, there are still secrets here that I don't yet understand," Kenobi tells them. "Your arrival, for one thing. The sediment carried up the mountain has slowly buried the temple over the centuries. There isn't a way in, save for two tunnels leading to the river, both of which I know are untouched."

"We just woke up here," Satine admits.

"Yes," Kenobi says. "You did. And part of me knows why."

"...part?" Fett asks.

It's a fair question to ask of a man who happens to have a brain that is also an entire building, somehow.

"Areas are cut off from my awareness," Kenobi admits freely. "Cave-ins and the like, mostly. There are one or two that I think I cut deliberately, due to what lay within."

Also terrifying, thank you.

"But I do believe I know what happened," he says, with that same damnably soft smile. "You two are the leaders of your people, yes? Tradition on one side, and peace on the other."

Satine shares a glance with Fett, and then turns to Kenobi and nods.

"Then I do believe it's simply the right time," he tells them. "You'll need to work together."

"I don't think so," Satine immediately denies.

"The Force works in mysterious ways," Kenobi tells her. "And if it brought you here--and you couldn't have arrived otherwise, I promise you that--then it was for a reason. Two leaders, the same people, with ideologies that I do believe are possible to bring together into, if not mixing, then at least coexistence."

"Impossible," Fett says. "The New Mandalorians are cowards, Kenobi. To share a culture with them--"

"Is as unlikely as Jedi and the old Mandalorians?" Kenobi asks, smiling so very politely that Satine wonders at how they aren't frozen stiff at the sight of it.

The sigil of the Order gleams mockingly from his pauldron.

Kenobi huffs out a breath, just a shadow of a laugh the slightest duck of his head, and then he turns and waves open a door.

Beyond him, sitting clean and pretty and entirely free of dust on its ancient stand, rests the Darksaber.

Satine stares.

She's sure Fett does, too.

"That can't be real," she says, her mouth moving before she can control it. "The Darksaber is lost, but it's popped up in history too recently to have been here since the fires."

"I saw it in Tor Vizsla's hands less than a years ago," Fett confirms. The vocoder cuts emotion from his voice, but not enough. "This place has been locked tight for centuries. The saber can't be here."

"The same could be said of the two of you," Kenobi points out.

It's true.

Satine steps forward, when it becomes clear that Fett won't. She picks up the weapon, holds it like the antique it is, square and unwieldy, but so very, very old that she cannot deny its importance. Weapon or not, it is her people's history.

She lights it.

The blade burns black.

"Turn it off," Fett rasps, and she does.

Satine looks back at him, and then to Kenobi. She turns fully, and steps forward, and holds it out to Fett.

He looks at her, uncomprehending.

"If you'd like to check for yourself," she says, and her voice is too quiet, but she can't help it. Something is happening, something heavy and broken, and she can't ignore the pressure of the future in this moment.

Fett takes the saber. He looks at it in his hands, and she thinks he is shaking.

"Your people need you, Mand'alor," Kenobi says, and there is no room for question. "They also need the Duchess."

"Why you?" Fett asks, voice strained and shattered in a way Satine can't even begin to pick apart.

"It was either me or Tarre, really," Kenobi says, with an idle shrug unfitting of the situation. "And I'm a little more... accessible, shall we say, to those who aren't sensitive to the Force."

Kenobi steps forward and rests an immaterial hand on Fett's shoulder.

"I already failed my people once," Fett says, barely audible.

"And now you shall save them," Kenobi says. His voice is firm. It is as if there is no question, to him, about whether or not Fett will succeed. "You won't be alone, either."

Satine shifts her weight, refusing to meet Kenobi's eyes. Her hands fist in her dress, and her mind races.

"What do you need of me?" Fett manages.

"...Mand'alor?"

"What do you need of me, Master Kenobi?"

Satine looks up.

Fett... Fett removes his helmet, and looks at Kenobi with an expression that is more desperation than deference.

"To cooperate with those who would follow a different creed," Kenobi says, so low it's practically a murmur. His hand, still intangible, reaches out to cup Fett's jaw. Fett leans into it. "To protect those who cannot do so for themselves. Our people are warriors, Mand'alor, but to refuse violence for violence's sake, after the wars that have killed our home and rendered it little more than glass, that is its own bravery."

"Master--"

"Listen to me," Kenobi says, and Fett falls silent. "You will need to protect them. The Duchess may have the funds and the support to bring forth education, agriculture, childcare, and so on, but there are many who would take advantage of that peace. She provides the home for tradespeople, but you are the shield that keeps them safe."

It could be a balance, Satine tries to tell herself. Maybe.

Kenobi seems so certain of it, and Satine may hate violence, but she is far from unaware of the pirates and warlords that nip at their borders.

"The foundlings need homes," Kenobi continues. "The stories need to be told. The culture is fading, Mand'alor. Bring it back."

His eyes flick to Satine, and she looks away.

(Her pressure was only ever on violence. Her advisors had pressed at the erasure of the rest, but if it meant children grew up without the worry of their parents dying in pointless battle, then wasn't it worth bending?)

(Couldn't she look the other way as they tightened restrictions on even symbolic vambraces, if it meant few too-small bodies in the streets?)

(Her planet was a wasteland. What did culture mean in the face of so many dead?)

(She knows Fett doesn't see it that way, but she is the only governing New Mandalorian with any blood on their hands. She knows the weight of violence, of lives taken by her actions.)

(She knows it, and she rejects it knowingly.)

Fett breathes harshly, and Satine closes her eyes.

"I agree to try," she says. "If we can get out of these ruins and back to our people... I will try. I cannot speak for my people on this, but to instate the old Mandalorians as a planetary guard... it may be doable."

"Little steps, my dear," Kenobi says. He looks down at Fett, who's... not well, it seems. "The Mand'alor needs some help, I think. I'm no trained mind healer, but I imagine I can help. More than most, maybe. There are few who know what it is to be a sole survivor."

He smirks, just a little, at the joke that he is not, in fact, a man who survived.

It's not very funny.

"I'll stay," Fett says. "I'll... I'll learn. Master Kenobi, you... Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me."

"As a student?" Kenobi asks, catching on to just the same thing as Satine has. "Not in the Force, surely, but... you truly wish to stay?"

"There are none left alive that I would trust to show me the way," Fett says. Beseeching, he reaches for Kenobi, and his hands pass through. There's a pain in him that Satine can't quite comprehend, and Fett falls to his knees. "Please."

"You need only ask," Kenobi says. "The Duchess will look after our people until the King takes his throne, and then you will rule together."

They'll have to, Satine tells herself, and steps forward. She puts a hand on Fett's shoulder, and pulls him to his feet.

"Where do we begin?" she asks.

#satine kryze #obi wan kenobi #jango fett #ghosts #massacre mention #is this vaguely inspired by GLaDOS and Castle Heterodyne? ...yes #but less murdery overall #star wars #the clone wars #Phoenix Answers Memes #supernatural au #kinda #one shot #death mention #child death mention #horror au #also kinda

215 notes · View notes

sindri42 · 3 years

Note

What do you think the Reapers were supposed to be all about before the writer got replaced and the ending of ME3 threw out the lore?

There's not a lot that we have that's solid, just a lot of hints and suppositions. So there's no way to really conclusively determine what was supposed to be going on, but we can definitely come up with theories that match the evidence, which the "canon" absolutely does not. So here's what we know:

Harbinger refers to themself as our "salvation through destruction" and the "Harbinger of your perfection". "We will bring your species into harmony with our own" they say, and "Your species will be raised to a new existence. We are the beginning, you will be the end," but also "You will surrender your potential against the growing void."

Sovereign claims they are each a nation unto themselves, that they are the pinnacle of evolution, and when asked who created them or for what purpose insists that they have no beginning nor end

Mass Effect technology plays upon dark energy in a way that is poorly understood by the young races despite their reliance on it for almost every aspect of life

A small but significant number of stars are destabilizing for unknown reasons, aging at a massively accelerated rate.

The mass relays were built for the young races, partly so civilized planets would be laid out upon predictable paths and easily accessible via the "back door" in the Citadel, but also so that the new civilizations would develop along the lines the Reapers had planned for them

it's very rare to have more than a single major race in each cycle; most often the other spacefaring civilizations are either wiped out or made subservient to the rulers of the galaxy

The greatest race of each cycle is used in the creation of a single new Reaper, while lesser races or those with major flaws are discarded or turned into servitors like the Keepers (per the end of ME2; obviously this got retconned in 3).

Between "harvests" the Reapers retreat beyond the galactic rim, sitting quietly in the dark using as little energy as possible for tens of thousands of years at a time.

So, first and simplest assumption, the Cycle is effectively the Reapers' reproductive system. Like all life forms, they have a drive to produce more of themselves, but for some reason they can't or won't simply make a new chassis out of raw metal, and they're unwilling to use "flawed" people as components, which means the people put into it are extremely important. If the larval reaper that Shepherd killed had been allowed to grow up, it would not simply have been a machine with some random DNA inside, it would have been humanity, an entire nation and species flying through space for eternity.

Second assumption, slightly stretchy but with several weak points of support? Mass Effect technology is slowly killing the galaxy. As more people use it in more ways every year, more stars start to die. This isn't an issue that would affect any normal person alive today, the changes are observed over the course of millennia rather than even centuries, but unless something big changes everyone is eventually doomed. And sure, any given individual or small group could simply refuse to use the mass effect, but it's so easy to figure out that you could never suppress the knowledge of how to use it in any meaningful way, and it's so useful and people are so greedy and short-sighted that you could never persuade everybody to stop. And if you tried to do it by force, well, a nation making free use of eezo in their engines and their guns and their shields would wipe the floor with a nation determined to stick to mundane technology.

So, my theory of how things went down? The first race to figure out the mass effect knew they had a problem. Maybe they had already made themselves immortal, so they were more concerned with the long term than most people. Maybe they just had more foresight than most. Either way, they put themselves into a form where they could still think and communicate, likely on a deeper and more intimate level than ever before, but they would use as little energy as possible to preserve their billions of lives. The "pinnacle of evolution" if you will, a machine which had no creator besides itself, a life form which could last forever with minimal resource consumption. And they sat quietly Thinking about how to fix this, for tens of thousands of years.

But while they researched and experimented and contemplated, other life forms kept evolving. And eventually they also figured out the secret to using the mass effect, but either didn't know about the dangers or chose to ignore them. So the ancient... okay let's just call them Harbinger for convenience, had to do something to stop this. Maybe they were too soft-hearted to wipe out an entire species for an honest mistake. Or maybe their research had hit a dead end, and they needed an outside perspective to apply new ideas to the problem. Or maybe they were simply lonely, or the instinctual drive to be fruitful and multiply reared up after being suppressed for so long. Either way, they converted the young fools into another nation-ship hive-mind like themself, convinced them of the seriousness of the situation (to "surrender your potential against the growing void" as it were), and resumed Thinking out in the black.

And when it happened again, and again, they refined their approach over time. The eezo drives on the individual ships of the young races are not only slower, but also massively less efficient than the technology the Reapers have developed, so they gave the Relays away as a gift to minimize the damage each new race would do. They couldn't allow young races to become too powerful to stop, but they wanted to allow them as much opportunity to develop scientific research and understanding as possible in order to be more useful to the ongoing project to save the galaxy, so they learned how to insert observers and infiltrators throughout alien societies to observe things and ensure the Harvest was delayed for as long as it was safe to do so but no longer (and I think you can agree that they were cutting their deadlines really close given how an extra three years brought the council races from 'utterly unprepared, basically a walkover' to 'giving you a serious fight').

So, how would the game end, after you learned all of this? Maybe Shepherd simply accepts the inevitable fate of the young races, like Saren once did, and helps the Reapers to end the Cycle with a minimum of suffering so that they can join the endless search for a real solution. The ultimate 'sacrifice for the greater good', killing thousands of entire species of people in order to preserve life in the galaxy as a whole. Maybe Shepherd rejects the idea that it's worth killing billions of innocents now in order to head off some distant nebulous threat later, and fights back with everything they have... and if you managed to unify everybody you possibly could, this would certainly be more power than the Reapers ever had to deal with before in any past cycle. Or maybe you use a display of that power to force the Reapers to the negotiating table, and then use all the "impossible" things you've achieved and all the scientific progress made over the past few short years, plus a heavy dose of raw charisma and Paragon ideology, to persuade them that if everybody works together they can finally solve the impossible problem, the one that has been stumping every Reaper for millions of years, within the time span of this one final Cycle if they just share the data they have so far and allow the young races to work freely.

#mass effect

158 notes · View notes

make-me-imagine · 4 years

Text

Prompt: Legolas is seriously injured after an orc fight, the reader takes care of him in Rivendell + reader braiding his hair.

Pairing: Legolas x Gen!Neutral Reader

Requested by: Anon Words: 1.8k

Triggers: Fighting, blood, angst

Genre: Angst + Fluff (Happy Ending)

Lotr/The Hobbit Taglist: @ta-ka-shi-ma

You turned quickly as another orc ran towards you, quickly slicing him down, you make your way across the battlefield. The orcs had recently been spreading across the land causing havoc on the people. This was one of those times, but not so luckily for them, a group or elves, including you and Legolas were travelling in the area when the orcs descending on a nearby village. They would not get away so easily this time.

As you approached another elf being bombarded by orcs you helped to fight them off. You struggled against them as it was now five against two with a few more approaching.

Legolas, who had nearby looked across the battle, seeing you and the other elf struggling. He also saw a rather large orc running quickly at you from behind. Legolas quickly ran towards you, hoping to make it to you before you were over-run by orcs.

You grunted as you knocked another orc away from you, staggering as you dodge the blow from another. You managed to kill two of them, but more were coming. You could sense someone running at you from behind, just as two orcs lunged at you from the side and front.

Dodging one sword, another sliced along your arm making you hiss in pain as you stabbed him and knocked him down before defending yourself from the other. Just as you met your weapon with him, you heard a yell from behind you. Glancing as far as you could back, you see a large orc preparing to swing down on you with an axe.

You were about to try and move out of the way, though you knew you would not get fully out of the way of the axes path, when you saw a figure with light blonde hair appear between you and the large orc.

Your eyes widened as you heard a grunt of pain come from the figure, as the axe struck his shoulder. Quickly kicking the orc in front of you, wanting to go to Legolas’s aid, you stabbed the orc, turning just in time to see Legolas successfully stab and kill the larger orc.

But as Legolas fell to his knees and swayed, you ran to him, catching him before he hit the ground. Seeing the large deep wound high up on his shoulder.

Looking around, you felt relief when you saw most of the orcs had been slain, the others fleeing in the distance. You called out to one of the others elves to get you your horse. You needed to get Legolas and the other injured elves to Rivendell. It was where you had been headed, and the best place to get help.

Riding as fast as you could towards Rivendell, you held tightly to the unconscious elf in your arms, as blood continued to seep from his wounds, the fabric you tied across it not stopping the blood. His face was growing paler by the minute. Your heart pounded in your chest at the thought of him losing this battle. Fighting back the growing moisture in your eyes , you egged your horse on, you needed to get there faster. You didn’t have much time.

The elves in Rivendell were quick to act in saving the young elven Prince, though you, being a skilled healer were the one to never leave his side, though others tried to push you away. Lord Elrond new better though, and allowed you to do the main healing.

You had now been in Rivendell for a few days, spending almost all your time helping Legolas. But he had not woken up yet, which worried you. He had a fever for the first two days, an infection spreading. You managed to tame it, but he should have woken up by now.

Placing your hand on his face, you felt his temperature was returning to normal. You could only hope he would wake up soon. You felt guilt pang through you as you checked his wound. He was injured saving you. You knew he would not want you to feel guilt, but you could not help it.

You sighed as you wiped some dirt from behind his ear that you had not noticed yet, your eyes also wandering across his hair. Two of his braids had come undone, and a few other had sticks and dirt in them.

Wondering for a moment if he would mind, you reminisced back to a time when you had injured your arm, and could not fix your hair. So he did for you. It was surprisingly intimate and gentle, and made you flush thinking about it.

Delicately undoing the rest of his braids, you brushed through them with care, feeling for the first time just how soft his hair was. You could not get to the braids at the back of his head, but you would deal with the ones on the side for now. As you laced in the braids on the left side of his head, you began to hum quietly. An ancient elven song you new from a young age. Moving to the right side of his head you began to brush out the loose braids, continuing your song.

Working on the last braid you found that you had no more ties nor beads to close the end of the braid. Thinking for a moment, you took out one of your own braid, taking the delicate bead at the end out to use on Legolas’s braid. As you worked on the final braid you continued to hum the rest of the song, unaware that Legolas began to stir.

The sound of the familiar song seemed to penetrate the darkness Legolas had been stuck in, allowing him to form consciousness as he seemed to follow the beautiful tune through the darkness and towards what he hoped was light.

As his eyes fluttered open slowly, the song became clear to him as he finally awoke fully. His eyes moved around the healing rooms, landing on your profile as he saw you staring at something. Feeling a light pull in his hair, he became aware that you were, brushing his hair? No, braiding. He stared at the side of your face for a moment, you looked determined, and concentrated, but also melancholy as you continued to hum the melody. You had small cuts on the side of your face, but you were still the most beautiful creature he had seen, and had he believed he was dead, he’d think you to be an angel.

As you finished the final braid, your eyes glanced quickly to Legolas’s face as it had many times before, but you quickly did a double take as you realized that his eyes were open, and that he was looking at you.

A small gasp left your mouth as you looked fully at him “Legolas” you whispered out, as relief and happiness flowed through you “You’re finally awake” you smiled at him.

The relief on your face was obvious, which meant that he must have been asleep for longer than he thought. He nodded his head lightly “I am.”

Without much thought you leaned down and hugged him, aware enough that you did not press on his wounds. Legolas let out a small smile as you did so. When you pulled away you felt his face for temperature “You’re fever has faded.” you commented.

“How long have I been unconscious?”

“A few days.” you hesitated for a moment “You almost died Legolas.” your voice was low, sad.

“Yes. But you were here were you not? You healed me?”

You nodded your head as he smiled “But you should not have done what you did.”

“What? Saved you?” he said with a small smile.

“I am not worth you Legolas” you said catching him by surprise.

He knew that you were referring to him being royalty, he hummed out as he moved to sit up. You quickly helped him as he leaned against the backboard of his bed. His eyes fell to the braids draped across his chest, delicate work. Your work. His eyes landed on the small bead at the end of one braid, he recognized it as yours. He felt his heart pound in his chest at the realization. A smile spread across his face for a moment before he remembered your words. “You’re wrong”

“You are the Prince Legolas, you are-”

“I do not care that I am a Prince.” He cut you off. You stared at him for a moment as he continued “I would die for you any day.”

You hesitated for a moment, you knew that you would die for him, and you knew he would for you, but he should not feel that way, he was too important. He stared intensely into your eyes “Why?” you muttered out, quietly.

He lifted his hand, as he gently stroked the side of your face, catching you off guard “Because I love you.” His voice was delicate but genuine as you stared into his eyes, your face most definitely portraying shock. “And don’t you dare say that I cannot love you, because I am a Prince.” he said, amusement in his voice, the comment made you smile slightly.

You lifted your hand and placed it on his “I will not say you cannot, but...you should not. Nor should I love you, but...I do.”

Legolas took in a breath at your mutual confession before a small gentle smile fell across his face, he leaned forward, wincing slightly from the pain. You leaned forward the stop him, but before you could he quickly pulled your face to his as he kissed you.

When he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours “Your father will forbid it” you commented quietly.

“He cannot, he will not.” he placed his hand on your face again “I will not let him. I have remained distant from you for too long.”

You looked into each others eyes for a moment before Legolas pulled your face a little closer, you leaned in, as you kissed again. When you pulled away you tried to repress the smile on your face by pushing him back lightly “You need to rest, you still have a lot of healing to do.”

He followed your words and lied back down, but took your hand in his as he rested his against his chest “As long as you are here.”

“I will be.”

He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand as he leaned his head back on the pillow his eyes closing as he began to fall back into a slumber.

You let a smile spread across your face now as you played back what just occurred. For so long you hid your feelings, refusing to believe the would be returned. But just this once, you were happy to be wrong.

- - -

If you liked this, please consider reblogging or commenting.

If you’d like to be added to a taglist for any character of fandom let me know!

427 notes · View notes

dreamingofaizawa · 4 years

Text

Guys My Age

Title and concept inspo: Guys My Age by Hey Violet

Soft Dom! Aizawa Shouta x Medium-sized Fem! Reader

Quirkless AU

***18+ Fic***

You must be at least 18 years old to participate in this reading. If you are under the age of 18 please step out of line and find another fic. Thank you and have a good day.

Warnings: Age gap, praise kink, DD/LG dynamic and terms, use of the words daddy and sir, light bondage, overstimulation, smut.

Word Count: 4.1k

Author’s Note: I KNOW, I know, I write a lot of Aizawa fics, and they’re all DD/LG stuff. I know, okay? It’s an obsession, I’m in love with this man. Anyway, another soft dom Aizawa, but reader isn’t very well-versed in intimacy. Also, reader is what some would call medium-sized. Not necessarily big, but definitely not small. This is for all my medium-sized girls, including myself. I was very self-indulgent with this one.

Part 2

Enjoy~

You’d always been told you were mature for your age. It wasn’t until recently you realized how true that statement might be. You’re currently 21. And very, very single. You’ve had a total of six different relationships, and all of them fell through for one very simple reason. The boys you dated were just that. Boys. They were extremely immature. Only ever wanting to ‘hang with the boys’ or stay at home. No effort was put into the relationship on their part after the first few weeks. You didn’t understand why these vastly different boys were all so adamant on staying inside.

You’d tried desperately to get them to go out on dates with you. You offered to pay, and drive, and literally anything else. But no, they were too busy playing video games or getting higher than the damn sky. Don’t even start thinking about sex. You hadn’t got any of that shit since your first ‘boyfriend’ at 17, who used you like a sex doll and broke it off once he found someone hotter and sexier and altogether better in his eyes. You were sick of it. So you did the last thing you’d ever want to do. You went on a blind date.

You’d stumbled on a website last week that allowed you to set up a blind date with a stranger. It seemed legit, and had background checks on all participants. It also allowed you to put in any preferences you had, and matched you with someone that had similar preferences and hobbies. The age range you put in? 30-35 years old. Because guys your age just didn’t cut it. You needed someone more mature, someone who could treat you like a woman, not some girl.

Today, almost a week after matching with someone, you were standing outside an italian restaurant. You didn’t know his face, just his name and age, and that he was a teacher. Aizawa Shouta, 31 years old. And he’d sent a single message when you matched.

Meet me at this location on Saturday. When you enter, I’ll be at the back corner table. Semi-formal. 8 pm, please don’t be late.

It was blunt and straightforward. You liked it. You just hoped he wasn’t quite this blunt in person. You’d put on a black knee-length cocktail dress with a halter top and a partially open back that fell to the small of your back. It accentuated your shoulders and the top half of your torso before fanning out at your waist, the silky material falling and swaying around you.

You slipped on simple white heels and silver jewelry, with a white clutch purse. You’d decided to pull your hair into a loose half-up half-down, a silver comb pinning your hair in place, minimal makeup and clear lip gloss. For the first time in a while you felt pretty. You knew you weren’t exactly small, but the way you were dressed gave you confidence.

You looked at your watch. 7:55 pm. You took a deep breath, straightened out your dress, and stepped into the restaurant. The host asked if you had a reservation, and you told him you were meeting someone who already arrived. He let you pass, and you walked back to the table Aizawa told you to meet at. He had his back to you as you approached, but you could see his broad shoulders and muscular frame easily.

He wore a white long-sleeve button down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and a black vest fitted to his form. His slacks were also fitted, showing off his muscular thighs. His long raven hair was pulled in a half-up half-down similar to yours. You hadn’t even seen his face yet and he looked delicious.

Your heels clacked on the wood flooring, and as you neared the booth he turned to look at you. You stopped next to the table and got a good look at the stranger. He was beautiful. His dark bloodshot eyes looked tired, the bags underneath giving him away and only adding to his appeal, and a scar curved under his right eye. A sharp jawline, with a tamed scruff, and thin lips in a neutral expression. You were about to introduce yourself, but he stood from the booth and held his hand out, palm up. “You must be (y/l/n) (y/n).” You smiled at the gesture, and placed your hand in his. “That’s me. And you are Aizawa Shouta. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He pulled your hand to his lips and placed a kiss on your knuckles, before leading you to your seat.

As he sat down, you noticed a bottle of wine sitting in the center of the table in a bucket of ice, and two glasses of wine halfway full. One sat in front of you, and the other in front of Aizawa. He began the conversation with a rather specific question. “So, (y/l/n), why are you on a dating website looking for men that are so much older than you?” Normally you’d take offense to a question like that, but the way he said it was pure curiosity. So, you answered. “If I’m being honest, it’s actually pretty simple. Guys my age just don’t know how to treat me.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, a barely noticeable smirk tugging at his lips. “And how do you want to be treated?” You smiled a little at the implications behind the question, and answered. “I don’t want to be stuck in my room while my ‘boyfriend’ plays video games and smokes weed. I don’t want to be ‘one of the boys’, and I don’t want to have to plead and beg to go on a date or spend time with him. I want to be treated like a woman, not a girl. And I want to spend my time with a man, not waste it on a boy.”

At that, Aizawa smirked and sipped at his wine. You both took a quick look at the menu and ordered when the waiter came. As you ate, you talked about random subjects and hit it off quite well. The date went by quickly, and at the end of the night you’d exchanged numbers. “I look forward to another date with you, Ms. (y/l/n).” “The feeling is mutual, Mr. Aizawa.”

When you got back home, you undressed and cleaned your face and got into bed. As you lay there, your mind drifted back to the date, and how undeniably handsome Aizawa is. The way he spoke to you like you were his equal, and looking at you like an ancient treasure. He was everything you wanted, without even considering anything sexual. Little did you know he felt much the same way.

____

When the date ended he texted Hizashi to let him know he was free. Hizashi, of course, called him immediately, and began drilling him about the date. “How’d it go Sho? Was it a rando with a thing for older guys? Did she want a sugar daddy?” Shouta rolled his eyes. “No, Zashi, she wasn’t looking for a sugar daddy. She was...actually really mature for a 21 year old. She knows what she wants. I admire that a little. And I won’t lie, she’s quite beautiful. Not the generic, model, beauty-pageant, barbie doll pretty. It’s a natural glow she has. It’s...quite mesmerizing...”

Hizashi exploded on the other side, laughing at the new infatuation his friend had for a blind date. “I hope she’s your type, Sho. I mean physically. I know how much you like them with a little meat on their bones.” Aizawa groaned at his comment. He knew he was just teasing, but that his blonde friend was 100% right. He knew he had a type, and he’d be lying to himself if he hadn’t looked at your full figure quite frequently.

He’d taken in your dress, how it showed off your shoulders and back. As you climbed into your car and took off your heels, he trailed his eyes up your legs, getting a small glimpse at your thick thighs. When you sat up behind the wheel, he revelled in the small rolls showing through your dress, wanting nothing more than to squeeze them and kiss them and bite them...

He shook away the thoughts that were threatening to take over his mind. “Shut it Hizashi. Her body is none of my concern, and is most definitely none of yours. I enjoyed the date and that’s what matters.” The loud blonde gasped dramatically, “Oh my god she totally is! Damn you go get some Sho!” Aizawa just ended the call.

The next date was planned once again by Aizawa, and it was only a week after the first. It was a simple coffee date at a small cafe. You talked casually about the things you enjoyed doing. You convinced him to let you take care of the next date, which you decided would be a relaxed ramen date. You’d gotten comfortable around each other, and after about six more dates, he invited you over to his place for dinner. Of course, you accepted.

He’d sent you the address and apartment number, and you stood outside his door in dark jeans, black flats, and a beige sweater with a white tank top underneath. You knocked on the door, and when it opened he greeted you with a peck on the cheek. It had become a normal greeting, since you’d gotten so close, though the gesture always made you a little shy. He told you to get comfortable as he finished up dinner, and you sat at the kitchen table and admired him as he worked in the kitchen. He wore fitted blue denim jeans, and a black cotton t-shirt, his hair pulled up in a bun.

No matter how many times you looked at him, he was always just as shockingly handsome as the first time you saw him. His t-shirt left his toned arms exposed, and it was fitted to his torso, showing off his muscular frame. Your eyes traced the outline of his muscles from his shoulder, down his arm, drifting to his hips and up his back. You didn’t notice him glance back and smirk at you. “Like what you see kitty cat?” Heat rushed to your face at the realization that you’d been staring, and the fact that he’d noticed. And that name… “K-kitty?” you barely whispered, before quickly apologizing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”

You didn’t think he heard the first part. You were wrong. “It’s alright. And yes, kitty. Don’t like the pet name?” Your face burned at the tone of his voice. “N-no, the name’s fine, you just...caught me off guard.” He chuckled. “I should do it more often. You’re cute when you’re flustered.” You didn’t think your face could get any hotter, but it did. You tilted your head down and away from him and bit your lip, letting your hair fall to hide your face. You’d never gotten this kind of attention before, and you had no idea how to handle it.

You were too busy trying to calm your breathing to hear him approach you. The proximity and demanding tone of his voice made you jump a little. “Look at me, kitten.” You swallowed and took a breath before turning your head to him, and he hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your head so you were forced to sit up taller. He moved even closer, your shoulder brushing against his abdomen, and you nearly had to look straight up to look in his eyes.

Your eyes began to drift away from his, and he jerked your chin up higher, silently commanding you not to look away. You brought your eyes back to his and held his gaze, and after a few moments he smirked. The hand under your chin moved to stroke your cheek with his knuckles. “Good girl.”

He quickly dropped his hand and went back to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner. It took you a few seconds to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You panted a little, trying to calm yourself from what just happened, and clasped your shaking hands together. But they weren’t shaking from fear. In fact, you couldn’t quite tell why you were so shaky and out of breath. And the praise from him sent a shiver down your spine.

He managed to distract you while you ate, and you had completely recovered from whatever that was earlier. After dinner you moved into the living room and relaxed on the couch while you talked some more. Soon he’d leaned his head back and closed his eyes, still talking and listening, but clearly relaxed. Once again you found yourself distracted by his body, following the muscles in his neck down to his toned chest and abdomen. And again, he noticed. “I can feel your eyes on me, kitten.” His voice was low, a rumble of smooth baritone. You found yourself turning away to hide your face again, and the command in his voice controlled you with ease.

“Don’t look away from me, kitten.” You turned back to him, and when your eyes met his, you looked away, and he let out a low growl and your eyes snapped back to him. He adjusted and sat up, your eyes still fixed on each other. He pat his leg, “Come here kitty.” You blinked at him, not quite prepared for such a demand. His eyes darkened a little and his voice dropped to a growl, “I won’t ask twice.”

At that you got up and went to sit on one of his legs, but he pulled his knees together and shook his head. So you climbed over and straddled his legs on your knees. He grabbed your hips and pulled you so you were fully sitting on his lap, your core dangerously close to his growing bulge.

Your eyes were still locked on his as he leaned close to you, his hands rubbing circles into your hips. He leaned past your face and whispered into your ear. “Can I touch you kitty?” You took a shaky breath and nodded. He laid a light spank on your ass and you jumped. “Use your words kitty cat.” “Y-yes, you can t-touch me.” He laid a kiss on your neck and whispered ‘good girl’ before moving his hands under your sweater and tank top. He ran his hands up and down your back, and he gripped the fatty flesh of your stomach and hips, kneading it in his palms gently as he worked his way up your body, leaving feather light kisses along your neck and jaw.

The intimacy had you quivering, and the way he nearly worshipped your body had your breaths coming out shaky and heavy. Shouta caught on quickly. “Is it safe for me to assume you haven’t done anything in a while?” he said in your ear. You started to nod, but quickly caught yourself, “Y-yes.” He stilled his movements and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Tell me what you did before this.” You took a breath and explained the situation as simply and quickly as possible.

His arms tensed, clearly upset that you’d been used like that. But he didn’t pry into that right now. “So you haven’t explored anything? Like any preferences you might have?” You shook your head quickly, “N-no...why?” He chuckled. “Well, kitty, you’re quite submissive. If you’d let me, I can help you explore this side of you.” You swallowed and nodded. “Y-yeah, I think I’d like that.” He hummed into your neck, “We can start tonight, but only if you’re comfortable and you want to.” You took a few moments to think about your answer. This man had been nothing but good to you. He treated you with more respect than all the boys you dated had combined. And you trusted him. “I...I’m comfortable starting tonight.”

“Alright kitty. Now, listen to me closely, because this is important, okay?” “Okay, I’m listening.” “Good. Since this is new to you, we need to establish a safeword. Is ‘roses’ alright?” You nod. “Okay. Now if anything ever gets too much for you, if you feel uncomfortable for any reason, if you need to stop for any reason, or if there’s a medical emergency, you need to use it. And that goes for me too. If I don’t like where things are going, I’ll use it. Once we use the safeword, everything will stop right there, no questions asked. Understand?”

“I understand.” “Okay. Can I trust you to use it if you feel the need to?” You nod, “Yes. I’ll use it if I need to.” He kisses your neck, “Good girl.” The praise makes you shudder, and you feel him smile into your neck. “Now, kitty, I want you to address me as either ‘Daddy’, ‘Sir’, or ‘Master’ when we’re like this, do you understand?” “Yes.” He spanks you a little harder. “Yes what?” You jump at the contact “Y-yes Sir.” Another kiss on your neck, “Good girl.” He leans back and taps your arms, “Up.” You lift your arms and he pulls off your sweater and tank top at the same time.

His hands come back down on your shoulders, and he runs his hands down your chest and stomach, taking the time to remove your bra and knead your breasts. He wraps his arms around you and stands up, and you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist as he carries you to his bedroom. He puts you down on the bed on your back and takes a rope out of the bedside table. You let him take your hands and tie your wrists to the bar at the headboard. It’s not uncomfortably tight, but a few experimental tugs tell you it’s solid and you won’t be getting out of it unless he unties you.

He trails kisses down your body, unbuttoning your jeans and removing them as he goes. Once your jeans are off, he loops his fingers in the band of your panties and pulls them off. After that, he leans back and just rakes his eyes up and down your body, eating up every inch of your skin. “You’re such a pretty kitty.” His words have you shuddering and blushing. You’d never been called pretty before, and you knew why. You were a little bigger than other girls. You weren’t necessarily insecure about it. You didn’t care all that much about how people saw you with just your looks alone. But you knew Shouta was admiring your body after knowing who you are as a person, and it made you a little giddy.

His mouth and hands were all over you, squeezing and groping, sucking bruises onto your skin. His touches were sending waves of heat through your body, and pooling between your legs. You desperately wanted him to touch you there, and you whined and rolled your hips up into the air. “Such a needy kitty. Be patient. I’m not done here yet.” He rolled a nipple in between his index and thumb, pulling the other into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue. You mewled at the sensation, and he switched his mouth over to the other side.

Your legs were rubbing together, begging for friction, and he finally moved down to your dripping core. He took a finger and slipped it over your folds. He groaned as his finger collected your slick, “You’re so wet kitty. Are you this wet for me?” You nodded your head frantically, and he laid a light smack on your pussy. You let out a soft whimper, “Yes Sir, it’s for you,” you answered quickly. He hummed, “Good girl. I didn’t even need to remind you to use your words.” He kissed the inside of your thigh, and moved to lick a stripe up your folds. You gasped at the new feeling, never having anyone’s mouth down there before.

He slipped the pink muscle into you easily, groaning when he tasted you. The sound sent vibrations through your dripping cunt, making you squirm at the pleasure. He looped his arms around your legs, dipping his fingers into your core and using the slick to rub tight circles onto your clit. An unfamiliar sensation built in the pit of your stomach, your muscles tightening in your abdomen as it got stronger. You knit your eyebrows together, and in between heavy breaths you gasped out, “S-sir...it feels strange.” He raised his eyebrows at the statement, and increased his pace until that coil inside you snapped, which didn’t take very long.

Your back arched off the bed as you let out a loud, sharp moan, your legs shaking from the intensity of your first orgasm. Aizawa kept lapping at your pussy, letting you ride out your high, and once you were relaxed and panting on the bed, he lifted his head and wiped his chin. “Kitty, have you never cum before?” He asked, a small smirk tugging at his lips. You shake your head, “No S-sir...Is that what just happened?” He chuckled, but didn’t answer the question, “You’re going to have fun tonight kitty.” You didn’t have time to question what he meant, though, because he slipped a thick finger into your core, and you mewled as your walls clenched down on him.

The game he played went on for what felt like hours, and you lost count of how many times he’s made you cum. He’d fucked you and cum multiple times himself. You’d already squirted several times, and tears were streaming down your face from the overstimulation. It felt so good, but it was starting to melt your brain and the title of ‘Sir’ drifted to ‘Daddy’ as it went on. All the muscles in your body were burning from flexing so hard, and your wrists were feeling raw from how hard you’d been tugging at your restraints. It felt so, so good...but it was too much. He leaned down close to your face and kissed at the tears, “You’re doing so well babygirl. You got one more for me?”

You giggled lightly at the praise, your mind fuzzy, unable to form coherent thoughts as he thrust his hips into you. He stilled his movements and caressed your jaw. “How are you feeling, kitten?” Your eyes looked up into his, struggling to stay open. You giggled a little as you answered. “It’s… I f-feel…” You knit your eyebrows together in concentration, searching your brain. “R-roses?”

Everything stopped, and he instantly reached up and tugged off your restraints, and pulled your exhausted body close to his chest. Your breathing got heavier, and your chest got tight, and fresh tears fell down your cheeks. He held you tight, kissing your tears and petting your hair as your cries died down. He held you like that until your breathing was normal again. You slowly opened your eyes, weakly calling out to him, “Daddy?” He kissed your forehead, “I’m right here kitten. Tell me what you need.” You nuzzled your head into his neck and mumbled, “Water. Can I have water?” He wrapped you in a soft blanket and stood up, carrying you with him. “Anything for my kitten.”

He set you on the counter and made a glass of iced water, holding it up to your lips. As you sipped, he rubbed your back and kissed your forehead and neck, and he didn’t stop or move until you had drained the cup. He left it in the sink and picked you up again, taking you to the bathroom and filling the tub with warm water. He turned off the tap, took off your blanket, and carried you into the tub. He washed the both of you, massaging your scalp, and you let out a sound like a pur, which he smiled at.

When he was done, he stood you up and wrapped you in a fluffy towel, dried himself with one, and carried you back to bed. You curled into him, and he wrapped his arms around you. “Are you okay (y/n)?” You nodded into his chest, “Yeah, I’m okay. It was just intense.” You could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke, “Thank you for using the safeword. You did so well for me kitten, trusting me like that.” You nuzzled into his chest some more, relishing in the heat his body gave.

You loved the praise he gave you. It made you feel warm and fuzzy in your belly, and it felt so good. Soon you were drifting into a deep sleep, comfortable in Shouta’s arms. This was nice. You’d be happy to let him guide you, let him take care of you like this. One thought drifted through your head as you drifted.

‘Guys my age could never.’

#aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #aizawa #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta x fem reader #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x fem reader #aizawa shouta smut #shouta aizawa smut #aizawa shouta bnha #aizawa shouta mha #shouta aizawa bnha #shouta aizawa mha #dom aizawa

977 notes · View notes

yoonsshadow · 3 years

Text

ETERNAL - v

➳ summary ; They have died so often that death has lost its meaning; hurt so regularly that pain has become inconsequential; lost so much that they hold each other to the light of the stars. They have nothing yet they have everything, as long as they have each other. And, after centuries, they now have her.

➳ pairing ; bts!ot7 x fem!reader

➳ genres ; The Old Guard au; fantasy, historical, action, romance, alternate universe

➳ themes ; angst, fluff, death

➳ warnings ; smoking, mature conversations

➳ word count ; 3k

➳ note ; Thank you for your patience!

masterlist

Fear is a fist that clutches your heart, reminding you of its presence each time it tightens its grip. It doesn’t hurt, necessarily, but you can feel the strength in its hold; the raging tendons wrapped around your tender organ that strain with each heartbeat. A singular emotion controlling your very pulse.

Cigarette smoke billows into the indigo hour of the night, and you find yourself unable to pry the fingers away.

The air on the balcony is cold, but it envelops you in a comforting embrace; it’s a soft coolness, as opposed to the harsh, biting climate of the desert that you’ve become accustomed to. Your skin prickles with goosebumps, but you don’t feel the need to scratch at yourself, to tear the skin from your flesh. It makes you feel alive, even if the definition of that word has changed for you.

Evidence of your newfound immortality, if that’s what you can call it, dangles between your fingers, ashes falling to the ground several storeys below with each gentle tap. It tastes terrible⎯⎯a bitter flavour of death in every pull⎯⎯but it serves its purpose for now. It keeps you grounded, gives you something to focus on other than the slowly growing anxiety that still holds strong in your chest.

Behind you, the balcony door slides open, startling the silent air with its soft drag.

“You’re up late,” Namjoon says. He speaks soft, low, as if hesitant to disturb you. “Or early, I guess. Didn’t take you for a smoker.”

You breathe out a puff of smoke, watching as it dissipates into the darkness. “I’m not.” He steps into your periphery, leaning on the metal railing beside you. “I just needed...something. Found them hidden away in the bookshelf.”

Namjoon scoffs. “Figures. We’re usually a non-smoking household, but sometimes the boys get sneaky. Pass me one?”

You hand him the box. Only two cigarettes left. He brings one to dangle between his lips and, without asking, you hand him a lighter. It takes him three tries, and then he’s sighing smoke into the air as well.

“Thought you were a non-smoking household.”

“We are. Stinks up the place, and it tastes disgusting. But. When in Rome.”

“You calling me Rome?”

He chuckles, but doesn’t answer. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You shake your head, despite knowing that he isn’t looking at you. “Too much on my mind.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t think I could if I tried.”

He blends in with the shadows, slightly, though the peaks of his cheekbones catch the dull light that glows through the mist of pollution. “I get that. Would you rather me talk?”

“Not really.”

“Do you want me to leave you alone?”

“Not really.”

So he stays. Until the embers begin to burn your fingertips; until you’re snuffing your cigarette on the metal rail. You don’t think you’ll smoke again. You suppose it doesn’t matter, though. There’s forever ahead of you to change your mind.

Sunlight is just beginning to illuminate the buildings around you when Namjoon speaks up again. He stubbed his own cigarette before it was even halfway done.

“I’m sure you’re curious,” he says. “About us, about the situation, about everything. And we’ll tell you as much as we can, but...There are some things the boys won’t feel comfortable telling you about just yet. We’ve lived long lives. We’ve done good things and bad things; experienced things we’re proud of and things that haunt us. We may not die, but we’re still human. I hope that you don’t mind being patient with us.”

Your heart aches a little at the melancholy in his tone, as if you wouldn’t give the world for these seven men after knowing them just a day. It feels as if your soul has missed them for a lifetime.

“Namjoon.” He turns to face you, now, and a halo of soft light glows around his face. “I don’t know what you’ve all been through, and frankly, it’s none of my business. If you want to tell me something, I know that you’ll do it in your own time. I’ve got the rest of my life to get to know you all, okay? There’s no rush.”

His smile starts as a twitch, a quirked corner of his lips, but quickly grows wide. Relieved.

“I’m glad it’s you,” he says. He offers no elaboration, no further words, but you think you know what he means. Because you’re glad it’s him, too. You’re glad it’s them.

With breakfast comes clarity. As you sit at the large dining table, bowls of rice, soup, and several plates of banchan steaming into the morning air, you find yourself feeling calmer than you have since your death. It’s as though the raging tides of emotions⎯⎯uncertainty, confusion, downright fear⎯⎯have finally quelled into a tranquil body of water. There is sure to be a ripple sooner or later, but for now, it is completely still.

Yoongi, the cook of this morning’s feast, takes the first bite, and the rest of you follow. There is so much that you want to say, so many questions that you want to speak into existence, but the bitter taste of apprehension bleeds through even the delicious taste of your meal. You feel like you might choke on it⎯⎯the taste and your words both⎯⎯but your throat closes before you can even swallow.

Ah. There is the awaited ripple.

Perhaps it is the hours of silent companionship, or simply his centuries of wisdom, but Namjoon seems to sense your internal struggle. “If there’s anything you want to ask us, Y/N, go ahead. We’ll answer to the best of our abilities.”

Your throat eases and your tastebuds return to normal. “Well…” Where do you begin? What questions do you ask potentially ancient beings? “I guess let’s start with what this,” you wave a finger around the table, at the seven other sets of eyes who watch you patiently, “is. The situation.”

Namjoon nods slowly. It seems he’ll be taking charge for this conversation, much to the visible relief of the others. “Even we aren’t completely certain of what exactly this is,” he says. “From what we’ve learned, our death granted us immortality, or something to that degree. We cannot die, nor can we get majorly injured. Any wounds heal quickly, and any illnesses metabolise out of our system before they can affect us.”

You nod. All of this you were already aware of.

“As for this,” he continues. He looks around the group, fighting back a fond smile. “We’re all connected. When someone else becomes like us, we all see visions of each other to help us find them. The same happened with you. You saw visions of us when you slept, and we saw visions of you. That’s how we could find you. The dreams gave us enough information to figure out who you were, and then it was a matter of locating you.”

“Which wasn’t easy, by the way,” Jimin adds, though there is no annoyance. “Your files were so deeply buried that we thought they might not exist. And don’t even get me started on accessing the satellite.”

“You hacked a satellite?” You can’t hide the shock in your tone, and you don’t miss the glint of mischief in Jimin’s eyes.

“That’s not important,” Namjoon says, taking control of the conversation once again. “What’s important is this: the eight of us are intrinsically connected now. We might not get the visions anymore, but we are still linked. The easiest way to describe it is that we’re soulmates, though that might not even be true. We were destined to find each other, to be immortal together. Whether it’s for some higher purpose, or just a random curse, we don’t know. It’s better, I think, if we don’t try and find out that reason.”

Now that confuses you. “Why? Isn’t it human nature to be curious?”

Hoseok scoffs. “I don’t think we fall under the definition of ‘human’ anymore.”

You’ll have to file that away for later.

Namjoon ignores Hoseok, and looks straight at you. “If we become too enveloped in trying to figure out the big ‘why’, we’ll get lost in ourselves. We’ll lose our own sense of purpose. If we were chosen, for whatever reason, then we have to trust that our instincts will guide us to do what is needed.”

“Okay.” You suppose he’s right. “Then, could you tell me how old you all are?”

“We don’t do ages,” Taehyung says. He sounds almost amused. “We know the age we were when we died, but we don’t keep track of how long we’ve lived after that. It’s a rule.”

“Then how about...generally? Who was the first? How did you all die?”

All eyes turn to Namjoon. Honestly, you can’t say you’re surprised.

“I was the first,” he says. A faraway look takes over his eyes, as if lost in the past. Seokjin puts a grounding hand on his shoulder. “I couldn’t figure out my actual age if I tried, but it was...a long time ago. I was the chief of my village. Killed for power. The story isn’t too interesting.”

There’s a brief moment of silence, and then Yoongi clears his throat. “I was the second. A slave to some tyrant who thought he was all-powerful. Killed in front of the other slaves to put them in line.” He shrugs, but doesn’t meet anyone’s eyes.

Hoseok is quick to speak next, his words are short and curt. “I was third. Court execution.” He seems reluctant, as if guarding his past behind the tightly-locked gates of his crossed arms, but you mean what you said to Namjoon earlier; you will wait for them. For however long it takes.

Next is Seokjin, and you have a feeling that his theatrics are for Hoseok’s benefit. “I was the lucky fourth, and a king, at that! Though I was only in the position for a few hours, and all public records of it were thrown into the river with my body. Which is a shame, really, because my portraits deserved to be in museums for all to marvel over.”

“Um.” Jeongguk seems nervous, and you see him hide his shaking hands beneath the table. “I was next. I died of...natural causes.”

“And we came as a set,” Taehyung smiles, arm slung over Jimin’s shoulders. “Died at the very same moment, and woke up the same way! We were best friends, right, Jiminie? On the opposite sides of a war, but I loved him with my whole heart.”

Jimin nods, a wistful smile pulling at his cheeks. “I remember thinking that I was so lucky, to die in his arms. To never have to live a single moment without him. And then we found the others, and I thought that I must’ve been in heaven to be so fortunate.”

“We’re all together,” Namjoon elaborates, though it’s unnecessary. A blind man could see the way they feel about each other. “It may be because of circumstance, though I like to think that it’s because we were all meant to be. Like it’s a gift from the universe, allowing soulmates born in different centuries to find each other.”

“And now you,” Jeongguk whispers. His eyes glimmer, hopeful, and so young despite the obvious years he has over you. You wonder why he doesn’t seem as emotionally aged as the others; what could cause him to cling to his youth the way he does. It doesn’t matter, though. If it means he keeps his heart, it will never matter.

“We don’t expect anything from you,” Seokjin says. “Not romantically or even platonically. You are still your own person, and if you don’t want to be a part of this, in any degree, we won’t force it.”

You are thankful for that. It takes away a pressure that you didn’t even know you had until now. The thought that this is a choice⎯⎯a decision that is completely yours to make⎯⎯relieves you to no end. And yet...

“I don’t think that’s a decision I can make right now.” You mindlessly arrange the chopsticks on your now empty plate as you try to summon the right words to explain yourself. “There’s so much that I need to figure out, and so many things that I feel I have to do. I don’t even know if I’ve properly processed the situation yet, or if I’m simply in shock.”

“Is there any way we can help you?” Yoongi, as always, seems so genuine. So heartfelt.

“You already have. So much more than you’d believe.” And it’s true. Independence is your life. You may have been in a team in your old life, a leader of a small group for whom you were responsible, but you were always brought up, always trained, to survive alone. To find comfort in an existence of solitude. Because that’s what the military is; it is removing yourself from others, from the world. You were in a team, sure, but you were all alike in your aloneness. Alone together.

Now, you have this group of men who, without knowing you, have plucked you from your misery and now offer you everything. Offer themselves, their companionship, their help. You are not the one responsible, the one with everything on the line. They have taken that from you with gentle hands, and you give it away gladly. There is not much else that you could ask of them.

Except. Well, maybe there is.

“But…” You trail off, and their eyes just scream patience. You don’t know how they do it, how they’ve grown to be so effortlessly composed and serene, because right now your heart is beating in urgency. It batters against your chest, yelling at you to just ask them, now, but your words falter in sudden uncertainty. They have already given you so much, offered even more; can you truly ask for the help that you now realise you may need?

You look into their eyes again, and know that the answer is yes.

“This mission,” you continue, sitting up straighter. If you speak with confidence, perhaps you’ll start to feel it. “As far as I know, it was never completed. When our team went in, it was under the belief that we’d be able to rescue all of the children safely and relatively unseen. Someone on the inside tipped them off, but they had to have had a reason. They wouldn’t have betrayed us like that unless something was wrong.”

“You speak like you know exactly who it was,” Hoseok says. It isn’t a question, and you see it in his expression that he isn’t necessarily looking for an answer.

You won’t give him one. Not yet. Not until you’ve figured out for yourself why this person would’ve left you for dead. “That isn’t important right now,” you say in lieu of a confirmation. “What matters is that those children are still out there somewhere, and there’s a leak in the operation.” Releasing a deep sigh, you slump down a bit. “I’m going back to the desert, back to the base, and I’m going to save those children. If you would like to help me...that would be really nice.”

“Of course we’ll help,” Jeongguk says, without hesitation. There’s a resoluteness in the set of his jaw that you haven’t seen in him before. “Anything you need. We mean it.”

“We should talk about this plan of yours first, though,” Namjoon says. “As far as the military is concerned, you’re dead. You died with your team. If you go back to your base of operations, that’s just going to open up a whole lot of complications for both sides. They might think that you were the traitor, being the only survivor. We’ll need to operate with a certain level of stealth.”

You were worried about that. Your dog-tags are with the rest of your team’s, your body supposedly burned along with theirs. You won’t be able to reprise the role you previously played in this, and you won’t have the military support that you once had. If you do this, it will be in the shadows, hiding behind corners and turning away from cameras. You are a ghost now. You’ll have to act like one.

“Okay,” you say. “I understand; we need to stay hidden. But there is one person that I need to see face-to-face. I can promise that they won’t do anything to endanger our identities.”

“It’s a bad idea,” Jimin says. “Trust is one thing when you’re alive, but if they’ve been mourning your death, you can’t know for sure how they’ll react.”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” you affirm. “I trust this person, and I’m going to need you all to trust me.”

Taehyung bites his lip in contemplation. “It isn’t that we don’t trust you,” he says, “but we can’t fully trust the situation. We don’t know this person, whoever they are, or how they’ll use this information against you. Against us.”

“I get it, I do.” You can’t help but sigh. “But this is something that I need to do, and something that I will do regardless of whether I have your permission. I won’t let my decision affect any of you, but if you decide against helping me because of this, I’ll understand.”

Yoongi leans forward. “We’re going to help you.” His tone is final. “And you’re right, this is your decision to make. We just want to make sure that you completely understand what you’re potentially getting yourself into.”

“You are all a lot older than me,” you say, “and obviously much wiser. But I’m an adult too, and I’m mature enough to know that my actions may have consequences. I’m no stranger to making tough decisions, or to taking responsibility. I may not be a Captain by rank anymore, but that doesn’t change who I am.”

“Okay,” Namjoon says. He doesn’t argue, nor does he apologise, but he doesn’t need to. There is a mutual understanding in the way you look at each other, and nothing more needs to be said. “So, what’s the plan?”

You take in a deep breath, and prepare your mind to return to the place you’ve grown to loathe.

< prev - next >

tags: @leafyturtle, @loveyoongles, @paint-music-with-me, @barbikatherine, @itsmorgo1604, @calling-dips-on-j-hope, @veronawrites, @applepie1000, @yoonchrisgullwrites, @ally22042000, @ireallylikefoodandyoutube, @blglmgk01, @basicgukk, @softescapism, @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered, @m1nt-3lla, @hunnayesblog, @rosycheekb, @hemmofluke, @the-bisaster, @katbonv, @borahebangtan, @monodroppp, @skyys-universe

295 notes · View notes

sweet-milky-tea705 · 3 years

Text

Abandoned Studies

Felix Escellun x GN reader, fluff, slight spice, word count: 1400

(I apologize for any bad writing or grammar, It’s my first fic lol)

——————————————————————————

I stare blankly at the mountain of books, loose pages, and scrolls piled on the table before me. The room I was given in the tower was nice, the bed was soft and comfortable, light filtered through the dark curtains of the open window while a gentle breeze blew through them, plus, the ambiance of the room was warm and cozy despite me only being here a few days. I took a deep breath of the fresh, yet somehow also dusty, air and picked a book from the pile. The title reads, “The Comprehensive Study on the Art of Magic Cultivation”, I frown at how long and serious the title is. I take it with me and drop down onto the bed.

“At least it's not history,” I sigh, “This feels like school all over again.” My hands reluctantly open the book, I’m somehow surprised at how well the pages are preserved, the burgundy leather cover looked worn and it was clear it was more than just old, the thing seemed ancient. I turn a few pages and start reading, It’s more interesting than I had thought. I was never a huge fan of being forced to read things but if this book was on Earth, The author would’ve been a complete nutjob. I’m definitely not used to all this magic stuff here, not to say I’m not enjoying the hell out of it.

Next thing I know, hours have passed and I’m more than a quarter through the book, which is surprising given the fact that it’s about as thick as a brick. It was starting to make sense to me, but that’s definitely more in theory than practice since I technically haven’t tried anything yet. Maybe when I do I’ll at the very least understand it more. Just as I look back down at the book, I hear a knock at the door to the room, at first, a tentative tap, then a slightly more firm knock.

“Come in,” I say, laying the book and my glasses next to me on the bed. The door creaks open and I find Felix standing in the doorway eyeing the massive pile on the table. “Well...uh, that sure is a lot. Eager to study, hmm?” he says with a small, almost awkward smile. I laugh at the thought of being eager to work on anything, I don’t necessarily fit that narrative. “Not particularly, I just grabbed as much as I could carry, figured I could sort through them later.” He chuckles and takes a few steps into the room, looking at the little changes I’ve made during my stay here.

When the silence stretches a little too long I decide to speak up. “You know, I’ve really enjoyed your company lately, I’m lucky to have such a talented young mage here to help me with all this magic stuff, among other things of course.” I say the last few words with a playful tone, he flushes slightly at it before quickly regaining his usual composure.

“Of course, I have also enjoyed your presence, I can only stand Sage’s banter for so long. You have certainly been a nice change of pace.” I stand up from my place on the mattress and make my way towards him. He was a little too far away for my comfort. “Have I now? I think I understand Sage just a little bit, you are fun to tease.” Slightly flustered, his eyes widen a little bit and he coughs, moving his gaze back towards the books and changing the subject. “Good to know I suppose. How has the research been going?”

“Pretty well, it’s a lot more interesting than I was expecting. I’ve never really been a big reader. Why don't you come look?” I gesture towards the book I left open on the bed and my round glasses tossed next to it. He agrees to look at it and we both plop onto the small bed. I pick up the book and begin reading aloud to him. “It seems nice, you’ve gotten rather far into it for it being only a few hours,” he says finally, I was hoping I wouldn’t have to read aloud that much since I’m not the best speaker, but I guess he wanted to hear a good bit of it. Regardless, I smile at the praise, I’m glad I seem to be doing well, I didn’t usually hear that often.

I notice the room has gotten considerably darker, It’s getting late, isn’t it? I look at Felix expecting some sort of remark on the matter, but his attention seems to be elsewhere. Golden light shines in through the window and a small gust of wind gently blows through his hair. I never realized how long his eyelashes were, or how rosy his cheeks are. Wait. I look back up at his eyes and realize I had been staring. “O-Oh. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to stare, you just look amazing right now.” Oh my god, did I actually just say that?

I look down at his lips, parted in response he can’t seem to get out. I chuckle and cup his cheek. His eyes widen and his blush deepens even more at the touch, “You know, this book has been getting a little boring, don’t you think?” I ask, tossing the book aside once more with a smirk. When I turn back to face him for an answer, I’m pulled forward to find my lips pressed against his. Surprised at his sudden boldness, I gasp, yet I melt into him quickly regardless, the kiss deepening slightly and our lips matching pace with one another. I part away for a moment and he whimpers slightly, arm draping over my shoulder. I kiss him again harder this time. Then again.

I go further, moving onto his lap and slipping my tongue into his mouth. At this, he inhales sharply and pushes forward, hands grasping at the buttons of my shirt while mine run through his hair. Soon, my shirt is slipping down my shoulder and I tug at his hair gently. I didn’t know his lips were this soft, we move together like water against each other, only small gasps of air and the sound of our own heartbeats cutting the silence of the room as the sun continues to go down.

Our lips part after what could’ve been ages or only a few moments and I meet his gaze breathlessly, our clothes and hair awry. To my surprise, the sun had almost completely gone down and the room had gone almost dark. Felix was only barely visible, but still, the sight of him was perfect. “You are so amazing, Felix...” I whisper before peppering kisses on his face, granted, not very well since we were smiling too much. He pulls me back down for one more kiss and looks back up at me, satisfied at the happy little mess we had made of each other. He sends a small flame at a nearby candle to light up the room a bit. I look down at the floor and chuckle at the poor book that had fallen off during our...research.

I pick up my glasses and say with the most shit-eating grin I can muster, meeting his gray eyes, “Maybe we should study more often like this, don’t you think?”

“I’ll look into it,” he laughs playfully, running a hand through his hair, “Though I severely doubt much work will get done.” How can he be this effortlessly beautiful? I smooth down my own hair and pull my shirt back over my shoulder. Suddenly, with a growl of my stomach, I realize neither of us has eaten yet. “So... dinner?” I look at the door and then back to him expectantly.

He looks surprised for a moment, as if he hadn’t even noticed how hungry he was. “Yes,” he says, smiling fondly, “Let’s go eat something.” He opens the door and the candle goes out, leaving the room empty and dark aside from the gentle moonlight. The cool air ruffles the curtains a bit and the crickets chirp outside. What a lovely way to spend the evening, I think to myself and walk out the door.

133 notes · View notes

kaypeace21 · 4 years

Text

What's in a name? (Analysing all the names in stranger things)

*I'll be repeating some names more than once as I break down categories .

Show , book, and tv easterggs

Alot of character names may have deeper meaning but some are also refs to stories they liked. The stranger writers twitter posted a list of movies said to inspire s4 (which I’ll be referencing).

Dart- dustin names him this after d'artagenean (a 3 musketeers book character) and one of Dustin's fav candies (3 muskateers). Similarly his pet turtle yurtle is implied to be named after the dr Seuss’ story 'yertle the turtle'.

Brenner- main character from 'the birds', which was on the st s4 list.

Byers- john byers from x files. The duffers mentioned x files was an inspo for the show. Although John byers (from x files) resembles Murray as an unhinged conspiracy theorist. The documentary paradise lost was also cited as inspo for st- john byers and his son, terry, Michael, and Steve were names in said film

Jim Hopper- in Predator (another st inspo) he was a soldier who was flayed to death in the woods. Another character in the film with a similar fate was “Hawkins”.

Detective Wheeler and elle Holloway- from silent Hill franchise. Another ref mentioned by the Duffers. Holloway was the surname of st's Heather. Elle (is el) and Wheeler is Mike's surname. Wheeler was also on the ep of twiglight zone (another cited ref by the duffers) . In the ep 'mute' sheriff wheeler takes in a mute psychic girl as his foster daughter. So some hints at hopper too . Hopper even mentions el-anor (gilipse) in s1. The surname of a main character in the silent hill series.Lt. Colonel Sullivan (s4) could be a eastergg of silent hill 4 which had a Sullivan character.

Henderson- st twitter mentioned how all the bond films were on the s4 inspiration list . So Dustin's surname being the same as one of the bond characters is a nod. Duffers also mentioned ‘freaks & geeks’ as inspo- and 1 character’s surname was also Henderson (another nod).

Mrs Driscoll (from s3) - a nod to invasion of the body snatchers which was mentioned as inspo by the Duffers. And clear inspo for s3.

Powell (cop and partner of hopper ) - diehard films also on s4 list. He's named after the cop powell.

Callahan (cop and partner of Hopper) - father Callahan ref. He shows up in many of Stephen King novels. The Duffers have cited over 10 novels and books from him as inspo for st

Nancy- she's called ‘Nancy drew’ (from the novels). And the duffers have mentioned they are fans of elmstreet - who's main character was Nancy. Nancy also references 'Oliver twist" ,and that book has a character named Nancy in it. Nancy was also a first Lady in the 80s similar to her friend Barbara- who was also a first Lady in the 80s.Nancy's name might also be inspired by "Nancy Wheeler", a secondary character in the 1970 book Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret written by Judy Blume.

Fred (s4)- apparently a high-school journalist who may be friend or foe. This one is a stretch but given nancy maybe being an elmstreet ref- and her enemy being fred-die kreuger. Fred may have animosity to Nancy and that's why his name is Fred. I mean ... they even cast a new s4 character with Freddie kreuger's original actor.so...

Jason (s4) - is in the 1986 Nancy drew novel (when s4 takes place). He is similar to the duffers description. In the novel he's a rich, popular, arrogant jock and blackmailing students at the high-school . S3 even named one of its episodes after a nancy drew novel- so wouldn't surprise me.

Christie carpenter (s4/reffed in s1 by hopper)- christie is the main character in the hellraiser series (which is on the s4 st list). Carpenter is the surname of the director of 'the thing' name dropped in s3. (The flesh monster in s3 also resembles the thing) , and in s1 mr clarke watches it ,and mike has the thing movie poster in his basement.

Argyle (s4) - die hard 1-2 were on the s4 st list. And is a name of a diehard character.

Max- her name is 'mad max' like the 80s film. But since the Duffers like videogames. Her name may be a ref to max caufield from the ‘life is strange’ game as well. She has a 'never Maxine rule' similar to max in st. But the game character is similar to jonathan as she is a teen photographer and says similar words to jonathan in s1 saying she would rather watch people through a camera than interact with them.

Eddie munson (s4)- not going to lie. I have no proof of this but I immediately thought of the TV character Eddie Munster (the friendly monster ).

Possible comic book easteggs

The duffers are no stranger to comic book references. The duffers have already directly reffed xmen, wonderwoman, and green lantern. Kali's place also has a comic book ref to 'the invisibles' on the wall. While the s4 movie list mentions thor ragnock , age of ultron, and 2 batman films. Some of these refs will go over your head if you haven't read my DID theory. But a lot of this analysis will still be enjoyable. :)

Jane st ives (jane ives aka el). marvel. (jane st ives sees her dad k*ll her mom and vows revenge against him.Sort of similar to what brenner did to terry).

Stephanie harrington (Steve harrington)- 80s marvel comic. DP.7. Will DID ref. Antibody, is a medical resident who can project from his body a dark figure of himself (also called an "antibody", a word play on the medical term) that flies, can become intangible, and transfer its memories to another person by physical contact (mindflayer). He later merges with the antibody. like how susie refs ‘wizard of earthsea’ -the novel where the young wizard Ged releases a shadow monster (said to be an ancient evil) but it turns out to be the dark aspects of his personality and the only way for the chaos to stop is to accept his darkness and merge as 1.

Barry bauman (Murray bauman) . marvel comics - Will did easteregg.Bauman lived in never ending darkness. He felt, that there was a realm outside the darkness and started to explore the entire content of his brain thus using now more than the usual 10 % .Also had telekinesis.He turned his attention to the stars in order to exact revenge on the human race which spends billions of dollars to kill each other, but wouldn't spend the mere million or so it would have cost to cure him. For his vengeance he transported the suns near our galaxy into his omnipotent brain. As the people of Earth would learn of the disappearing of the suns they would panic and feel Bauman's loneliness before he would destroy Earth.Despite the death of his physical body, Bauman's consciousness somehow survived and began hopping from body to body throughout the galaxy, his powers growing until the Star Thief was recognized as a major threat to galactic society.

Sinclair- last name of xmen rhaine. Will Did ref. storyline Rahne Sinclair is mentally bonded to Havok against her will(Will/mf).She is subsequently manipulated by the Shadow King. Her bond with Havok causes her to act irrationally, sometimes threatening teammates, sometimes by flirting with them. She undergoes more than one attempt to undo the bonding, with varying results. Her instability also manifests in many odd dreams, in which her identity is merged into pop culture figures. What’s funny is charlie heaton (jonathan byers) was just in an xmen movie with this Rhaine character.

Victor creel (s4)-sounds like mutant victor creed of the xmen comic. x men Mutant with ab*sive dad and poor socioeconomic background. He had a "birthday tradition" of ab*sing his young relatives on their birthdays. Which reminds me of Lonnie making jonathan cry for a week (because he forced him to k*ll a rabbit on his b-day). Not to mention Lonnie is prob coming back for Will’s b day in s4... so... the name is prob a ref to that ‘birthday tradition’. Could also be a stephen king reference -since Duffers love him. The Creel family was in sk’s book “pet cemetary’-which fun fact (the actress who plays El’s aunt is in the recent remake)!

Yuri (s4)-Yuri Topolov (Russian: Юрий Тополов) was a Soviet scientist and the first foe of the Hulk.

Dimitri (s4)-Dmitri Bukharin was born in Kuibyshev, Russia (some sources say Moscow). First appeared in Iron man.

Peter ballard ( s4 character) may just be a hellfire ref . since I guy with last name ballard was a double agent for the hellfire club (name of st s4 ep 1). And ballard means bald which the actor is certainly not lol. I don't think he's literally associated with hellfire but its just a ref. And because its implied in his st character summary despite working for the mental hospital-where brenner is most likely at- he's horrified by the treatment of the psych patients. So that may be where the double agent aspect would come into play.

Ian Hargrove (billy hargrove)- batman comics. had a history of mental health problems dating back to childhood, which his parents were unable to afford treatment for. His brother John hargrove tried to keep him out of trouble but Ian developed an uncanny talent for explosives (will the wise fire powers). He ends up at Archam asylum. Cough billy is Will's alter. Why he has the name billy (a nickname for William) . Jonathan in s2 mentions how he likes the writer vonnegut- who wrote slaughter house 5- the main character was Billy. Already mentioned how it connects to my did theory .

Jason carver (s4)- carver is the last name of the comic hero thunderbolt (in the flash)-the first name of thunderbolt is Will and his brother is named Lonnie. There was also a John carver in the comic.

Holland (barb's last name) last name of Swamp thing. I think its plot has quite a few s4/5 spoilers but Im not diving into it right now.

Names associated with religions or mythology

(if you’ve read my DID theory- some themes will appear relevant in relation WIll’s alters or to WIll’s past/tr*uma).

-‘Kali prasad".Kali is the name of a Hindu goddess . Kali’s iconography and mythology commonly associate her with death, violence, s*xuality, but also paradoxically -motherly love. In myths ‘she only k*lls demons’ and is described as ‘overflowing with incomprehensible love for her children’ - (aka ST’s Kali k*lling people from hawkins lab for hurting kids). Her third eye stands for wisdom (like Will the wise).Kali is called at times ‘ the bright fire of truth’ (will the wise/fire powers).The devotee makes her image in his heart and under her influence burns away all limitations and ignorance in the cremation fires. This inner cremation fire in the heart is the gyanagni (fire of knowledge), which kali bestows (cough Will the wise-fire powers). The goddess also could create a darkcloud of lightning (similar to the mf). The phrase “brilliant as a dark cloud” is a snippet of one such prayer dedicated to Kali.The name Kali is derived from the Hindu word that means “time”. Kali receives her name because she devours ‘kala’ (Time)- like clocks ticking when El sees demogorgan/clock being wonky when Will see mf/clocks in s4 promos.’ After devouring time she resumes her own dark formlessness. “This transformative effect can be metaphorically illustrated in the West as a black hole in space” (cough mf cough hopper blackhole/time refs). Kali’s s2 butterfly-“Kali is the Hindu goddess associated with eternal energy. ... The cocoon, butterfly and the karmic golden wheel reflect Her deep connection with life.”And Prasād (her last name) is a material substance that is a religious offering to gods in Hinduism .

-While, EL is the name of a Cannanite (male) god associated with “salt water “ (pool filled with salt in s1) who “dwelled in a tent” (in s1 Mike’s blanket fort) .And his gray-beard was described as " "full of wisdom.” él’ in Spanish means ‘he’- which could be a nod at her ( androgynous) presentation in s1. El can also be translated to "God" or 'god'. The el character has various mythologies depending on which culture/ religion is using the term 'el'. In the post-biblical period, "el" became a regular element in the names of angels such as "Gabri·el," "Micha·el," and "Azri·el," to denote their status as divine beings.And Jane translates to " Yahweh (god) is gracious/merciful". The cannanite god El was also dubbed “Compassionate God of Mercy.” Earlier, a ninth century B.C.E. inscription identifies Ēl- the name of the Babylonian water god Ea, lord of the watery subterranean abyss (cough watery dark void in st). Terry (el’s mom-aka Teressa) was originally used in the Middle Ages for a “child baptized in holy water” (El in the sensory water tank/Terry used it too,according to Becky in s1). Eleanor (called this in s1)- can mean "sun ray" (possible the opposite of the ‘shadow monster’ or Kali who can represent a “black hole”).

-Will-the s4 st movie lists (‘red dragon’, gods of monsters, & ‘blade runner’ ) mention the artist and writer William Blake (specifically his painting of the angel michael fighting a dragon in revelations - reffed in st s1). He was one of many painters part of the exhibition of “ The World Turned Upside Down: Apocalyptic Imagery.”The World Turned Upside Down explores the myriad ways that artists in England visualized the apocalypse in a period fraught with political, religious, economic, and cultural change.

During this period Blake was commissioned to create over a hundred paintings intended to illustrate books of the Bible along with revelations . He also drew illustrations for the novel Dante’s inferno. Blake’s brutally satirizes oppressive authority in church and state.He said those who proclaim restrictive moral rules and oppressive laws as “goodness” are in themselves evil. Hence to counteract this repression, Blake announces that he is of the “Devil’s Party” (cough hellfire club ref-and dissing the satanic panic of the hellfire club and other marginilised groups) . He also says “men forgot that All deities reside in the human breast.” So Instead of looking for God on remote altars, Blake warns, man should look within.He produced a diverse and symbolically rich œuvre, which embraced the “imagination as “the body of God.” He wrote his own stories based on biblical writings- one includes the fire wielding character of Los (will the wise) who represented jesus. Los (like jesus does in revelations) causes the destruction of the world and the second judgment unfolds. The poem ends with Los’s unfallen state rising up and shepherding in science and removing the dark religions. I also talked about how this story ‘book of los’ hints at the DID theory-but this is getting long-so you can just read the explanation here if interested. Also, hellooo Both names are William B(yers/lake). Billy (a alter of Will-sharing the name William) in s3 he even wore “lady of pillar” medallion- i.e about jesus/mary.

JOHN (supposedly Jesus’ blood relative- who wrote ‘revelations’.) In scripture John was called “the disciple whom Jesus loved as a brother” .Fire is the most typical element associated with the Saint John's Eve celebration (Jonathan did light the demogorgan on fire). Many scholars consider John & Jesus ("apocalyptic prophets"). Jonathan itself translates to " yahweh (god ) has given" in Hebrew.

Michael- Similar to kali, he’s a religious figure known for killing demons. He’s the arch-angel from the book of revelations (Apocalypse). A evil Beast (with seven heads usually translated to ‘satan’ or ‘dragon’) appears .“it was a 7″ causes Will to be attacked by the demogorgan ( which in d&d is a demon with multiple heads). The Archangel MICHAEL fought and defeated this 7 headed beast/satan. Corresponding with Mike at the end of s1 writing a fictional d&d story for Will (based off defeating the demogorgan) which was about helping kill a 7 HEADED MONSTER! Michael is also the archangel who oversees on Earth the natural element of fire (Mike telling Will the wise to use ‘fireball’ to defeat this same 7 headed monster in the game, at the end of s1)! Ironically though Jesus /Christian god is also associated with 7s a lot (he has 7 angels and during the apocalypse causes 7 plagues , he has 7 candles etc .)cause the number seven, represented ‘perfection’ according to ancient numerology . Will’s b day is March 22- (3) +2+2 =7 (“it was a 7”). Will’s bday even falls in what christians call “the holy week”( the week immediately preceding Easter.) At the end of s1 they even defeat this 7 headed monster because Will rolls a 14 (which can be broken down into two 7s). Michael & William also have 7 letters in each of their names respectively- equating to this 14. This dragon biblical story (of Michael) is also William blake’s most popular painting. Also, random fact in revelations god has a rainbow throne (with thunder /lightning -will the wise powers- coming from the throne, and seven lit torches next to it ) . He also wears a rainbow halo. Lol. Michael also roughly translates to ( 'Who like el?' The answer being roughly translated to ' no one like el' ... which i mean literally is saying there is no one similar to her. But I still think its a linguistic pun/ burn that Mike is not actually into El romantically).

Jim (James) hopper- According to the s3 script Hopper’s real name is James. JAMES (JIM) was an apostle to jesus- brother of john. And in the bible was called a ’son of thunder ’. Will’s powers/ hopper being an alter of Will's so technically brother of jonathan and thunder powers. Not to mention David on Instagram saying hopper has " he has risen. like bread" is a Jesus ref to 'he has risen"... even the bread ref could be a catholic ref to the last supper.

Martin Brenner/marsha holland- have their first name reference the roman god Mars who was originally a ‘thunder or storm deity’ (will the wise/mf powers). EL (in cannanite mythology) also allowed Baal the storm god to rule the entire earth.

ROBIN- was the God of Thunder’s- Thor’s- favorite bird. And Dustin also means ‘Thor’s stone.’The red belly robin is also an important bird in Christianity. Legend has it that the robin got its red belly from a fire in which it was trying to protect Jesus. Robin also name drops the greek god prometheus- the god of fire (will the wise) who brought human beings life and knowledge. And Steve looks at Robin and says "let there be light" a biblical passage. The robin represents selflessness for a higher truth.

Barb- Saint BARBara- dad kept her locked away from the outside world (like el/brenner) . He tried to k*ll her when he learned she didn’t believe in his religion- so the dad was punished by “god” who electrocuted him with lightning/lit him on fire. (Will the wise powers).

Nancy- is derived from a medieval diminutive of Annis, an English form of Agnes. There’s the christian saint Agnes- who was beautiful and from a wealthy family. She was the Christian saint of girls and v*rginity . And the duffers subverted this along with the problematic horror movie trope of the ' v*rgin female heroine surviving while her more se*ually liberated female friends are punished by the villain' ( by having her survive specifically because she decided to have s*x).Agnes was also led out and bound to a stake, but (allegedly) the bundle of wood would not burn, or the flames parted away from her (will the wise fire powers). Also people claimed that any man who tried to r*pe her was struck blind.

Hopper's wife’s name -Dianne- is also the roman goddess of ,nature, hunting and wild animals( and greek equivalent to Artemis) .Becky means ‘snare’ -for hunting animals .Teressa (Terry) means ' huntress'. The name was originally used in the Middle Ages for a child baptized in holy water . Name of 2 saints-Teresa of Avila and Therese of Lisieux. Lonnie’s gf (Cynthia) was originally an epithet of the Greek goddess Artemis, as well.

Power couple Angela & jake (s4) - Angela means 'messenger of God". And Jake (also means ”supplanter”) is derived from jacob. Jacob was the son of Isaac and Rebecca in genesis. El’s aunt,Becky (Rebecca) is wife of isaac.Other theories claim that Jacob is in fact derived from a hypothetical name like יַעֲקֹבְאֵל (Ya'aqov'el) meaning "may God protect".The name jacob is also where the names James/jim is derived from.

couple Steve spies on in s3- Anna Jacobi & Mark Lewinsky. Anna ( name of the mother of the Virgin Mary) Jacobi ("he who supplants"-aka same meaning as jim since both names are derived from jacob). Mark (”the god mars”-same meaning as martin brenner) .Lewinsky (lion-same name meaning as Lonnie). Also derived from the Hebrew root לוי‎ (leví, “priest”)

Joyce means "lord". Could also be a ref to the ('unofficial') saint Joyce who gave up wealth to live in poverty.

Ted-is the short form of the names Theodore and Edward. Theodore is a Greek name meaning "gift of God", Edward has an English origin and means "wealthy guard." Eddie (from s4) also means ‘wealthy guard”

Holly (nancy and Mike's sis)- Holly meanings are 'One who is pious' or 'sacred'

Karen- can be short for Katherine-one of the first christian saints.”Saint Katherine of the Wheel “(er). A 4th century martyr who suffered t*rture on a spiked wheel. Wheeler does mean ‘occupational name for a maker of wheels’ after all.

Gospel of LUKE (lucas?) , or simply Luke, tells of the origins, birth, ministry, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus Christ.

Sinclair- Catholic saint of computers and TV screens (i mean... he is in the av club).

MAXimilian was deemed a saint in the 1980s- saint of journalists and radios. (Both aspects of s3)

Saint stephen/steven ( STEVE)-an early disciple and deacon . Considered one of the first m*rtyrs of the church.Stephen is first mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles as one of seven deacons appointed by the Apostles to distribute food (lol icecream) .According to Orthodox belief, he was the eldest and is therefore called “archdeacon”.

Sara- Her name is a feminine form of sar (Hebrew: שַׂר‎), meaning “chieftain” or “prince." She was the wife and sister of Abraham (ew -given her being an alter of Will though, such a name doesn’t surprise me). Similar to st Barabara’s dad - Abraham tried to k*ll his son isaac in the name of god. Becky (El's aunt) - is derived from Rebecca - wife of Isaac.

Claudia (Dustin's mom)- Christian woman of Rome greeted by Paul in his second letter to Timothy (in the bible).

Sam mayfield (max's dad) - Short for Samuel or Samantha, from the Biblical name Shemu'el, which means "God has heard", from the Hebrew shama, meaning "heard" and el, meaning "God". Samuel is rumored to be argyle first name.

Marsha Kelly (s4)- Kelly means "frequents churches" or " bright headed". Given she's a counselor the bright headed pun makes sense. But maybe she's not to be trusted if she frequents churches during a satanic panic arc which was fueled by Christian religious extremism . Or she's someone who contrasts the rest of the religious people in town since she's not originally from hawkins...who knows. x files’ main character was catholic but in one ep she criticized a small town for the satanic panic occurring-and says how accusing these kids who listen to rock as satanic or being k*llers is ludicrous.

Peter ballard (s4) - Peter was also the name of an apostle.

Tina (side character s2)- like christy (s4) it’s short for Christina which translates to "follower of christ" or 'stream'. Tina was the gal who hosted the t halloween party and also the name of one of Erica’s friends in s3.

Samantha (goth girl jonathan talks to in s2 party) translates to "told by god".

Tommy (s1-2) "God's gift" or "twin".Thomas is the Greek variation of the Aramaic name Ta’oma’. It came about because there were too many apostles named Judas; Jesus renamed one Thomas—meaning "twin"—to distinguish him from Judas Iscariot and the Judas also known as Thaddeus.

carol (tommy’s gf)- Carol is the short form of Caroline and the meaning is derived from the English vocabulary word for “song” or “hymn". A hymn being a religious song or poem.

Benny ( who helped El at his dinner) - originally derived from latin bennedictus which means "blessed"

Stacey (s2-3 ) rejected dustin at dance. Stacey- "resurrection "

Grigori (the guy following and tracking hopper, Joyce, and alexi)- The name was adopted by early Christians heedful of the Biblical passage located in 1 Peter 5:8, “Be sober-minded; be watchful."grigory now means 'watchful and vigalent'

Alexi- prob based on the russian folklore story of alexy. A clever priest's son who tricks a dragon.

Harrington- similar to Robin's religious animal iconography. Harrington means 'he goat'.The most popular image of the Satanic goat dates back to the ever-mysterious Knights of Templar, who were accused of worshipping an idol known as Baphomet (a 1/2 human 1/2 goat man). Roman Catholic society decried it as a demon that demanded human sacrifice — but it would take a few more centuries before the goat became a truly occult symbol.Anton Lavey adopted Baphomet as the sigil of the Church of Satan in 1966, and it has appeared on countless metal album covers. But, Baphomet isn't the lone source of inspiration for our goat-like depictions of Satan.it's also believed that early Christians, seeking to demonize preexisting Pagan traditions, drew comparisons between the Devil and the Greek god Pan (god of nature), who happened to resemble a goat.Some cited how in revelations- during the apocalypse- Jesus separates the 'lambs from the goats'. ( supposedly Good vs bad)

Given the fact s3 alluded to the satanic panic. A Christian movement in the 80s that demonized and said d&d ,rock music, homosexuality, other religions, stephen King,horror films, wearing black,and non conservative ideology were 'satanic.' I wouldn't be surprised by this possible ref. Heck even William Blake criticized similar religious movements in his own time period. Several movies from the s4 list allude to this. The most obvious being the documentary paradise lost (named after the fictional retelling of satan/adam and eve story) - the documentary directly focuses on a witch hunt of rock loving teens (wrongfully accused of m*rders) in a small town during the satanic panic. Not to mention ironically s4 is hinted to be around easter. So Using such symbolism to address religious fundamentalism and the bigotry/hysteria it can cause isn't surprising. No i’m not lumping all religious people into this negative category- obviously.

Other Names with similar definitions

*Hunting /forests woods, nature, animals

Hunters and people in forrests

name meaning : becky - snare (a trap for catching birds or animals). Teressa-huntress. Dianne/Cynthia (Hopper’s ex wife/Lonnie’s gf) - is a roman/greek goddess of hunting and wild animals. Rhadaghast- Will's password for cb is a lothr wizard who protects forests/wildlife.martin/marsha- previously god of agriculture/plants.As an agricultural guardian, he was believed to directed his energies toward creating conditions that allow crops to grow, which may include warding off hostile forces of nature (pumpkins rotting in s2). El in phoenician culture was called Elus and its Greek equivalent Cronus (god of agriculture) steve- he goat- associated with pan- god of fields, groves, wooded glens . brenner- ‘someone who cleared forests by burning’. the blond women, Brenner worked with, Fraizer- “of the forrest men”

* FUN FACT: Kali’s name originally was going to be ‘Roman’ (which is derived from Romulus-the son of Mars... aka Martin Brenner) .

Trees

Ives and owens- ives means 'yew wood' while Owen means 'yew tree. ' bauman- nickname for someone who lived near a tree.comes from the German word "baum," or "boum" in Middle High and Old German, meaning "tree’. Jennifer hayes- Jennifer derived from Old English words "jenefer", "genefer" and "jinifer", all of which were variants of Juniper used to describe the juniper tree.Lonnie means "oak tree; or lion". Lion plushie in cb and the lion el has along with the tree establishes a connection between all 3 maybe? Oak groves were especially sacred to the goddess dianna too. Buckley (it has many different translations) - Old English "boch ley" (with boch meaning beech tree and ley meaning wood, glade or clearing).

Nature

buckley if translated from "bok lee," means meadow, or field. mayfield- open country (field) where madder (mæddre) grows. Holland- wood land, Bruce (who was also possessed) - means WILLow lands . Keith (s2-3) : woods or forrest.Hargrove- meadow filled with rabbits (Jonathan’s hunting story).Holloway is a topographic surname, which was given to a person who resided near a physical feature such as a hill, stream, or type of tree. Tina means 'river' . Burness (guy who claimed he jumped into quarry)-stream. Neil- cloud. Lowe (Bruce's last name)-This surname is derived from a geographical locality 'at the low,' i.e. the hill. Hayes means "hedged area'.

Flowers

Flo (hopper's secretary)- means flower. Suzie- lily flower. Susan (Max’s mom)- means lily, lotus flower or rose. Karen (in Japanese can mean)- flower, lotus, or water lily. Heather is also a variety of small shrubs with pink or white flowers which commonly grow in rocky areas. Erica is a type of "heather" plant. martin/marsha: in the legend of Mars,his mother become pregnant with him using a magic flower- which was given to her by the goddess flora.

Bright (aka intelligent)

Bob- nickname of Robert . Both Bob and Robert mean 'bright, shinning or fame'. Aka smart -he's called ' Bob the brain ' for a reason.

Robin- is also diminutive of Robert . And we all know robin is smart too. Being multilingual/ cracking the code.Robin (like Robert) also means 'bright, shining , or fame.'

Lucas- means "bright" or "shinning" aka he's also a smart cookie. His firework plan saving the day.

Lonnie and Larry (the mayor) can both be nicknames for Lawrence which also means ' bright one' or 'shinning one'. Well... both are cunning I'll give them that. Lonnie is unfortunately ...smart. I think this detail had other foreshadowing. Joyce to Will about Will the wise ' if he's so wise why does he need the fireballs? can't he just outsmart the bad guys? " Will: " yeah. Usually. BUT sometimes the bad guys are smart too." I never understood why on earth Joyce would be with someone as awful as Lonnie in the first place- than be with his literal opposite Bob- but maybe she just found intelligence attractive?

Names associated with thunder/lightning/fire (Like Will/mf/Will the wise)

Byers-reprsents Greek Zeus (god of thunder/lightning). Martin - references the roman god Mars who was originally a ‘thunder or storm deity’ .ROBIN- was the German God of Thunder’s- Thor’s- favorite bird. And Dustin also means ‘Thor’s stone.’Jim- “son of thunder”. Christian god- has throne (surrounded by thunder /lightning). Kali- could summon thunder storms.Nancy/Barb-both saints associated with fire. Kali-is called at times ‘ the bright fire of truth’ /and bestows the fire of knowledge. Robin also name drops the greek god prometheus- the god of fire. Mars -the keeper of Rome's perpetual flame . The Robin bird in a Christian story myth protects Jesus from hell's fire. William Blake- wrote about a fire wielding character of Los who represented jesus. Jesus during end times wields fire. Michael is the archangel who oversees on Earth the natural element of fire. Fire is the most typical element associated with the Saint John's Eve celebration (Saint John- called Jesus’s brother).

Animals (and their symbolism)

Byers- means ‘ cattle shed’.The Greeks considered the bull animal totem to be a symbol of Zeus (god of thunder and lighting - will the wise powers). He is the head of the gods and the almighty ruler of Olympus. I”n hinduism, Shiva is known as Gorakhnath, means the lord of the cows. And is also known as, Pasupathinath, the lord of all animals (similar to Rhadaghast). According to some scholars, Shiva’s association with cows and bulls might date back to the Indus Valley period. Cows have a special significance in Hinduism, as aspects of Mother Goddess and as symbols of selfless service. Mahatma Gandhi declared the protection of cows a central feature of Hinduism.Hindus worship cows as the Mother Goddess and symbol of motherhood, kindness and forbearance.”

Tigers: (Sarah’s plushie/ Hawkin’s macott/ Will & Mike have tiger posters in their rooms): The goddess Kali & God Shiva wore a tiger skin (this fact was actually mentioned by Kali in the prequel novel ‘suspicious minds’ ).”In many tribal traditions of India, the tiger (or lion) is worshipped as a god. In some Hindu hymns the domestic fires are compared to the tigers that guard the house.Tigers also figure prominently in many Indian folk-tales, Jataka-stories, and the Panchatantra.”

Lions:(Lonnie means ‘lion’ and el and Will have matching lion plushies)- In the Bible, the lion has two opposite meanings: it is compared to the Devil (1 Pet 5:8) and to Christ (Rev 5:5). Aka: Lonnie is the devil. The kids are the opposite. Nancy also compares the demogorgan to a lion. “In many tribal traditions of India, the lion is worshipped as a god.One of the ten incarnations of Vishnu is Narasimha, who has the head and shoulders of a lion, but the torso of a human.Goddess Durga, a fierce form of Parvathi or Shakti, has a golden lion as her vehicle, while Rahu, a planetary guard, rides upon a black lion as his vehicle.Lions form an important part of Hindu religious art. The face of the lion (simha-mukha) is used in images and sculpture in many Hindu temples to decorate the doors, walls, arches, and windows.The memorial pillar at Saranath contains four beautifully carved standing lions at the top on a round abacus representing the imperial power. They now constitute the official emblem of the government of India.”

El almost k*lling a cat- “Some superstitious beliefs are also associated with cats in Hinduism. For example, killing a cat is considered a grave sin, for which one may have to offer prayers and give in charity at least seven golden images of the killed cat. “

Harrington- he goat. Buckley- has various translations. Anglo-Saxon: ‘bucc and leah’ meaning goat and wood respectively. And obviously there’s the robin-bird. And I've already discussed their symbolism. Goat= baphomet/pan.

Robin- thor's fav bird/ helped Jesus from hell's fire.

Buckley- can also translate to " field filled with deer" (like the deer attacked by the demogrogan or the bambi film jon reffed in relation to the hunting story about lonnie).And Karen ( when from it’s Hebrew origins) can mean- antler or horn. Also the caananite God el was usually depicted with animal horns on his head.Diana in Roman art usually is accompanied by a hound (demo dog) or deer. Because of the story of her turning an attempted r*pist-hunter into a deer/ and then causing dogs to attack him. Deer is also one of the symbolic animals accepted since early Christianity as an allegory of Jesus Christ and the Christian Disciple. And when associated with Shiva (kali's husband) in Hindu iconography, the deer omen denotes sovereignty over nature and symbolizes the lord of all animals, humans, and the King of the Forest. In many visual and written illustrations, human beings and deer appear as close companions and in some cases, humans adopt the face or antlers of a deer, in images more common in stories of human strife. Deer also have a supernatural significance and appear as apparitions of divinity and in legends of spiritual awakening.

Hargrove- meadow filled with rabbits (like the rabbit lonnie made jonathan k*ll.) Hopper sounds like thumper the rabbit- which jonathan mentions in relation to bunnies . And ... idk... Hopper did make that pun in s3 about bunnies to Larry (lawerence) ? We also have rabbit refs elsewhere like with- el in Benny's. They play the song 'white rabbit' a song referencing Alice in wonderland and in el's room at Terry's house is the white rabbit from that story. Also paralleling to jonathan- el was almost made to k*ll a cat by her father (Cheshire cat aka Alice in wonderland ref + cats are associated with magic powers/witch craft).In Celtic folklore, the rabbit is seen as a supernatural being from the Otherworld.The rabbit symbolism in Christianity has found its way through the Germanic deity Eostre from which the name Easter came to be (s4 will most likely have the Easter holliday).One tale describes the rabbit as the pet of Jesus Christ. And rabbits were often inserted into art of jesus' mother .

Creel- basket or container of fish.fish is taken as symbolizing Christ’s faith, charity, and abundance. A biblical story goes how Christ fed his disciples with 2 fishes and called them “fishers of men.” The Christians made an acrostic from the Greek word for fish, “ichthys” as early as the first century and it is, “Iesous Christos Theou Yios Soter”, meaning Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior.

Names hinting at character traits (which are very literal)

Mr clarke (science teacher)- clarke means 'scholar'

Dottie (in kali's gang)- she was in an insane asylum . And ‘Dotty’ is a very old British slang term for 'crazy'

War (usually relates to ‘villains’)

Troy- means ' foot soldier'. Martin brenner: Martin means 'war like'. Lonnie is diminutive of Alonzo or Lawrence. Alonzo means 'ready for battle'.

In contrast to Lonnie, Will can mean "desiring peace. " Axel who is part of Kali’s crew (who i think Will created along with others ) even means "father is peace."

Twin

Tom (Heather's dad) and Tommy mean ‘twin’. Robin's crush Tammy ('twin') Thompson ( 'son of tom’).

* Besides similar/identical name meanings.There’s also a lot of other repeated names that go into this whole twin/mirror imagery which i find strange... makes me wonder about @strangertheory ‘s version of the did theory. If not...maybe it’s just a allusion to the whole Will vs Will the wise arc (possibly) coming up?

Jennifer hayes (popular girl) & Jen (Mr clarke’s gf). Tina (highschool gal) & Tina- erica’s friend- Tina & christy are also nicknames of christina (s4 character). Susie (dustin’s gf) & susan (max’s mom). Sam (max’s dad) and Samantha (girl at party)/ samuel (possibly argyle). Billy Hargrove, Bill (dianne’s new huband), and Will-all being nicknames for William. Robin & Bob-nicknames for Robert. Lonnie & Larry-nicknames for Lawerence. Ted & Eddie being nicknames for Edward.James (Will’s bully), Jim Hopper (real name James), jacobi, and jason- all 4 are derived from jacob . Marsha Holland (barb’s mom) and marsha kelly (therapist s4)/martin relate to mars. Tom (reporter), tommy (highschooler), thompson (other highschooler).

it’s definitely peculiar to repeat names like this in a story. Unless it means ...something... I talked about how David was mentioning alot of doppelganger/twin imagery recently-here. So the name mirroring could just be an allusion to the Will/WW arc coming up ...possibly?

#will byers #mike wheeler #el hopper #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #jim hopper #steve harrington #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #murray bauman #robin buckley #byler #kali prasad #martin brenner #lonnie byers #stranger things #stranger things theory #billy hargrove

179 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 17 - ao3 -

The next week was far more enjoyable than Lan Qiren had thought it would be.

He wasn’t really sure, in retrospect, what he had anticipated a visit with Wen Ruohan to consist of – more awkward conversations or being forced to drink liquor, perhaps, although the apology of the blanket had largely assuaged his fears in that regard – but he hadn’t actually expected it to be fun.

Wen Ruohan took him around the Sun Palace and the Nightless City, allowing him to point out whatever caught his interest and casually narrating some interesting history of whatever it was, whether person, place, or thing. The Nightless City was full of treasures, some their own or won through acts of heroism, others looted from other sects; Wen Ruohan was not especially shy about describing how his sect had grown rich with subordinate sects, telling the stories of how his sect had defeated and devoured the others with relish, but it wasn’t as if such ruthless growth wasn’t echoed in every other Great Sect’s history as well. And Wen Ruohan himself was ancient, his involvement in the history of his sect personal, and above all else he was proud – endlessly proud.

He was proud of his city, of his sect, of his personal accomplishments. It was said of him that he thought every good thing under the sun rightfully belonged to him, and hearing him speak Lan Qiren could see why people thought so. Wen Ruohan thought other people were wasting their time with such treasures, leaving them to waste away half-used; he thought that he himself was the only one that could value them as he believed they deserved.

It wasn’t just items, though, whether valuable spiritual weapons or devices that any sect would keep as an heirloom. Wen Ruohan valued people, too: he had subordinates drawn from all over the cultivation world, those with special talents or high potential. Even when Lan Qiren hadn’t asked, Wen Ruohan made a special point of pointing them out, telling the story of how he’d saved this one and earned a life-debt, how he’d lured that one in with promises of riches and power, how he’d given his surname to a third who had in the end only wanted a place to belong.

It took a while for Lan Qiren to understand the message, unspoken as it was, but eventually he got it.

Like a treasured sword left to prop open a door, Wen Ruohan had said about Lan Qiren, way back when he’d sworn brotherhood with him in a drunken evening and reconfirmed it in the morning. Lan Qiren hadn’t believed him then, and he’d gone on not believing him for ages, but he was starting to suspect, to his bemusement, that Wen Ruohan actually meant it – that he thought Lan Qiren was something special, like his powerful subordinates or his talented artists and artisans, like the geniuses and scholars he added to his sect like adding flowers to a vase.

That their brotherhood wasn’t mostly a farce the way Lan Qiren had always assumed it was, whether a tease to Lao Nie or a mockery of the Lan sect, but rather something…genuine.

Lan Qiren wasn’t sure what to do about that, so he opted not to do anything at all, throwing it all in the back of his mind to be considered at length later. But he had to admit – he liked it.

He liked the attention Wen Ruohan paid him, the fact that an older man, powerful and respected and renowned throughout the cultivation world, thought he was worth spending time with even without anyone else there to mediate. He liked the way that Wen Ruohan indulged him, the way that Lan Qiren’s bed in the Nightless Palace was even more comfortably textured than his treasured blanket back home, the way the design of the furniture and even plateware was, although in red and white, in the styles he liked most; he liked the way Wen Ruohan would add things as he figured out more of Lan Qiren’s preferences, beautiful paintings making their way onto his walls and fresh cut flowers beside his table. He liked the way Wen Ruohan remembered that he liked grilled foods over stewed ones, even years later, and how he didn’t serve him meat even when he ate it himself, although he made clear that it was available if Lan Qiren wished to try it; he liked how if there was something he didn’t like, it wasn’t served again.

Best of all, though, he liked how Wen Ruohan listened to him, even when he talked too long or on a subject that he (usually belatedly) realized other people would likely find boring. Not just nodding along, either, but actually paying attention enough to ask questions and interject comments, offering new perspectives on old subjects – how sometimes it seemed as though something Lan Qiren had said had sparked some new insight for Wen Ruohan, even though that seemed improbable. Wen Ruohan would sometimes interrupt their conversation to wave over a servant, ordering them to get this or that book related to their conversation, and if his memory for remembering exact citations was not as good as Lan Qiren’s then the vastness of the library available at his fingertips more than made up for it. Their conversation flowed easily and well, despite their age difference; it was helped along by Wen Ruohan’s charm, that mask Lan Qiren had noticed with Lao Nie, but it was easy enough to ignore the dangerous aura that lingered behind the façade when Lan Qiren felt certain that he, at least, would not be the target of that danger.

It felt – easy.

That was the strangest part, really. Lan Qiren was the son of a Great Sect, privileged even among the privileged; he had never lacked for food or drink or even knowledge. And yet it felt as if he had been struggling alone up the side of a mountain, the burdens forced onto his shoulders weighing him down; even if he had been able to manage it just fine, the fact that there was now someone walking alongside him, sharing it with him, supporting him, made it feel so much easier. He felt safe, he felt secure. He felt happy.

He felt –

Well, he felt a little guilty for thinking it, but he felt as though he finally had a brother.

Lan Qiren had always been a little skeptical of the description of brothers in all the tales he’d heard, the idea of an elder brother caring for and guiding the younger one utterly foreign to him; he tried to emulate the younger siblings, who idolized and loved their elders with a passion that rivaled that which they shared with their lovers, carrying within them a bond that would never be broken, but he knew in his heart that he could not do so in truth. Lan Qiren did idolize his brother, who was perfect in nearly every way except that he didn’t much like Lan Qiren, yet that deficiency was enough to make it difficult to like him back; Lan Qiren could love him better in theory than he could in practice.

With Wen Ruohan, it was different.

Lan Qiren wasn’t quite sure it was exactly like being a brother, either – for one thing, all the attention made him feel strangely shy, made his heart beat too fast and his stomach feel tense, and it wasn’t anything at all like the cheerful and casual camaraderie he shared with his nicer cousins like Lan Yueheng or even with someone he thought might be a friend, like Lao Nie – but whatever it was, he knew that he liked it.

He liked it enough to try to be flexible on some of his own relatively strict standards: to agree to try some local specialties that Wen Ruohan especially wished to share, to take the time to help Wen Ruohan with matters relating to his sect when there was no objection, to make an effort to stay up later than his usual bedtime in order to complete a conversation.

He even allowed Wen Ruohan to buy him things he would normally have rejected out of hand – for example, Wen Ruohan seemed to have a particular fascination for selecting clothing, which Lan Qiren didn’t understand in the slightest, but after having been so indulged, it seemed like it was the least he could do to return the favor.

“I really don’t know the difference between the two cuts,” he confessed, frowning down at the sketches presented by the tailor. “It seems – fairly minimal?”

“They are for completely different body types, Master Lan, and flatter the body in very different ways,” the tailor told him. “What appear to be small choices, such as whether to wear wide sleeves or tight gauntlets, robes or trousers, the style of the shoulders, the cut and angle of the collar, can make the difference between a cold demeanor and a warm one, a mature man and a childish one, a passionate earthy beauty and a icy fairy who stands above the earth.”

Lan Qiren nodded gamely, happy to concede the point – he had always enjoyed hearing other people expound about their interests, even if he didn’t share them, and it was clear the tailor enjoyed his work – but felt obliged to add, “Even if that’s true, how can I know which one I prefer? Anyway, I really don’t need any more clothing…”

“You should have several options in each style already ready-made for sect disciples, do you not?” Wen Ruohan asked the tailor, cutting Lan Qiren off, just as he had the last few times Lan Qiren had tried to suggest that he didn’t actually need to be bought more things. Competitive, as Cangse Sanren had said, only she’d forgotten to add stubborn! “Bring out a few and let him try them.”

“I don’t think –”

“That’s the best way to see what fits best,” the tailor agreed, nodding. “I’ll bring them at once, Sect Leader.”

“But –”

Lan Qiren gave up his clearly futile protests, reminded himself that he’d decided to make an effort to cooperate, and followed the tailor to another room to change his clothing. It felt strange and almost inappropriate, putting on the colors of another sect – at least the base color was still white, which was comforting, but the vivid reds, entirely dissimilar from the usual cool blue accents of the Lan sect, were certainly unlike anything he’d ever worn before.

And the style itself was very different, too. Both sects preferred tight sleeves, but the Wen sect didn’t add an overlay with wide sleeves the way the Lan sect did, and they had a sharp cut at the shoulders and collars that the Lan sect disfavored. Lan Qiren’s usual pick of clothing was even more simple – less layered, fewer cuts – than most in his sect, and the Wen sect outfit, though far from excessive, was almost flamboyant by his standards.

“It fits surprisingly well,” he remarked to the tailor, who smiled vacuously. “I’m lucky that you happened to have something so close to my size at hand.”

“You are very lucky, Lan-er-gongzi,” the tailor said, and although his face was blurred in the copper mirror, Lan Qiren briefly thought he almost looked nervous. “Please wait where you are, there’s one more thing I think would be a perfect fit.”

Lan Qiren nodded absently, looking down at his sleeves and tugging on them even though they fit just right. Truly it was a marvel, he thought to himself; most of his clothing was tailored for him personally, painstakingly made in the Lan sect style with embroidered arrays woven into the clothing, and yet some of those had fit less well than this…

He started in shock when he unexpectedly felt hands fall onto his head, loosening his crown, but when he looked up, ready to scold the tailor for his presumptuousness in daring to touch another man’s hair without permission, he saw Wen Ruohan standing behind him instead, a faint smile on his face.

Lan Qiren’s complaint froze in his throat.

Wen Ruohan, at least, did not violate the prohibition against touching another person’s forehead ribbon, avoiding it entirely as he skillfully wove out the guan Lan Qiren was wearing and replaced it with another in his own preferred style – silver instead of gold, and with a string of pearls that were woven into his hair and a single one that fell down to rest between his brows, just above his forehead ribbon.

That complete, Wen Ruohan put his hands on Lan Qiren’s shoulders and studied him in the mirror, his red eyes intent and thoughtful as he surveyed his handiwork.

“Very good,” he said, and his voice was thick with satisfaction.

Lan Qiren swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry for no reason he could explain.

“I knew pearls would suit you,” Wen Ruohan added, and Lan Qiren shook his head. “No? I think they do.”

“The rules –”

“Allow no more than three adornments on your waist, which this is not,” Wen Ruohan said smoothly. “And the rule against adorned beads and chains with bells is targeted at adornments that make unnecessary noise. You would not deny a member of your sect the right to wear a Jiang sect bell with its tongue removed, would you?”

“The Jiang sect only give their clarity bells to those who are in their sect, related by blood, or plan to marry in,” Lan Qiren objected, although he realized a moment later that he was quibbling over nonsense instead of getting to the key point. “I don’t need anything like this. It’s far too much.”

Wen Ruohan didn’t say anything; he only smiled.

“I should change back,” Lan Qiren said, uncomfortable. “I wouldn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea.”

“We wouldn’t want that, no,” Wen Ruohan murmured, and Lan Qiren quickly gathered up his clothing and retreated from the room. It was only when he had mostly changed that he realized that he hadn’t taken his original guan back from Wen Ruohan. Without much choice – going with his hair down would be far more inappropriate than being over-dressed – he left the pearls in place.

“You’re doing this just to embarrass me,” he accused Wen Ruohan as they returned to the Sun Palace.

“Perhaps,” Wen Ruohan hummed. “Who’s to say what my motives may be?”

“You! You can say!” Lan Qiren huffed, but he supposed this, too, was part of being brothers. “You’ll give me a new copy of our oath, right? Don’t forget again.”

“It’ll be in your quarters by evening,” Wen Ruohan promised, looking amused, and in the end he did better than that, a servant delivering the message while Lan Qiren was still putting away the odds and ends Wen Ruohan had bought for him during the day.

It occurred to Lan Qiren later that the move might have been calculated – he’d promptly forgotten anything else in favor of looking over the terms, which to his relief were mostly the classic ones, the elder guiding the younger, the younger obeying the elder, dire consequences for betraying their oath and bond, the usual.

There was an additional clause about loyalty and fidelity that seemed a little over-emphatic, almost as if it’d been cribbed from some marriage vow or subordinate’s oath – he supposed Wen Ruohan would have more reason to be paranoid about betrayal than most – and one about good faith and patience and education, which he suspected might have been his drunken self’s attempt to accommodate Wen Ruohan’s complaints about his excess enthusiasm, though he supposed it could alternatively be interpreted as an obligation for each of them to explain themselves to each other. Or maybe it was an obligation for Lan Qiren to educate other people at Wen Ruohan’s request - perhaps to step up and teach his sons one day? It was really very unclear, but then, such oaths usually were.

Alcohol was clearly prohibited for a reason, he thought to himself, and then shook his head, at this point more amused by it than anything else.

He only noticed that he was still wearing the stupid over-fancy guan when he started to head out to start the afternoon routine he had already started to turn into a habit: a walk through the gardens, physical training with the sword, and then musical training to conclude shortly before dinner, which he would share with Wen Ruohan, followed by another walk, this time in his sworn brother’s company. The routine gave him the time he needed to devote to his responsibilities as a cultivator, as well as some blissful time to himself; Wen Ruohan, he presumed, used the time for much the same purposes.

Lan Qiren scowled at his reflection in the tranquil lakewater in one of the garden pools, torn between wanting to go back to change the thing out – it would be ridiculous to expect him to do his usual training wearing something that probably cost more than his yearly allowance – and the knowledge that if he did so, he would have to miss out on some part of his routine, which he hated to do. Yet if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have another opportunity to remove it until after dinner…

“Lan-er-gongzi?”

Lan Qiren turned, surprised: it was Madame Wen, who he had not seen since his arrival. He raised his hands in salute, but to his surprise she waved it off. “Lan-er-gongzi,” she said. “Could I ask you for a favor?”

“Of course,” he said, and felt a frisson of fear when she put her hand on her belly. Surely it couldn’t have to do with…?

“Could you find my husband and ask him to visit the doctors?” she asked, biting her lower lip. “The servants can be indiscreet, and I don’t think I can go myself…”

“I’ll tell him at once,” Lan Qiren assured her, now truly alarmed by the implicit suggestion. “Do you know where he is?”

“At this time in the afternoon?” she said vaguely. “Oh, I’m not quite sure…probably in the third palace.”

She nodded towards one of the buildings, a little distant from the Sun Palace but not far.

Lan Qiren nodded. “Do you need anything – somewhere to sit, or…?”

Madame Wen shook her head. “I’ll go sit down. Don’t concern yourself for me.”

Lan Qiren nodded a second time – sitting seemed like a good idea – and headed towards the third palace at a brisk pace. As much as he usually hated breaking his afternoon routine, any risk to human life would always take preeminent status.

It occurred to him as he approached it that he hadn’t been to the third palace before, despite the tours he’d been on, although he supposed that it wasn’t so surprising, with him having only been there a week. The Wen sect’s domain, like its city, was vast and sprawling, teeming with people and buildings alike; it would take many visits, he expected, before he would learn it all. Still, Wen Ruohan had promised him the freedom to wander where he willed, and no one stopped him as he headed into the palace, seeking his sworn brother through the usual signs of his presence: the overwhelming concentration of qi, and the usual disarray of guards and servants that invariably had to rearrange themselves to account for the presence of their sect leader.

He found him, too.

Wen Ruohan was smiling the same smile he had given Lan Qiren earlier that day, full of satisfaction and pleasure and amusement, a bowl of wine dangling between his fingers as he leaned back in his seat, his entire posture suggesting that he was enjoying himself as he watched a good show – only what was in front of him was terror and blood and bile, men and women strapped to horrific devices as they screamed and bled and begged for mercy that they would not receive.

Lan Qiren must have made a sound, though he did not realize it, because Wen Ruohan turned to look at him, his eyebrows arching in surprise. “What are you doing in the Fire Palace, little Lan…?”

The Fire Palace, Lan Qiren thought, feeling strangely numb. Yes, that sounded right.

He’d heard all the rumors about it: how Wen Ruohan was violent and bloodthirsty, how he craved power and control, that he enjoyed torturing his enemies unmercifully until even death was a blessing.

He’d heard.

He’d just…disregarded it. Thought it was false, perhaps, or maybe he’d just lied to himself and pretended that because Wen Ruohan was kind to him that he was kind to everyone else.

“Who sent you here, little Lan?” Wen Ruohan asked, his brows coming together in a frown. “Tell me.”

He wasn’t happy. Of course he wasn’t; Lan Qiren wasn’t supposed to be here – he hadn’t been taken to this place, probably purposefully, and he was a creature of habit and routine, which he rarely if ever broke without warning. If he hadn’t feared for Madame Wen’s life, he would never have gone himself, much less in such a rush.

Madame Wen…she must have known what he would find here.

She’d known.

He should have known.

“Little Lan?”

An elder brother was meant to guide and educate the younger. Was this what he was supposed to let Wen Ruohan guide him towards?

“…Lan Qiren?”

Lan Qiren flinched violently at the sound of his name, but it spurred him into motion – he staggered back a few steps, unable to get his bearings for a moment, and then he grabbed blindly at some terrible-looking sharp objects lying on a nearby table waiting for their turn to be used. A flick of his wrist sent them into the throats of the victims, ending their suffering in a gout of blood, and then he turned on his heel and fled, tearing off the too-expensive guan as he did, the pearls falling on the ground behind him.

“Lan Qiren!”

#mdzs #lan qiren #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

106 notes · View notes

wesimpforxiao · 4 years

Text

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 6.1

Twenty-four hours, thirty minutes, ten seconds and counting. Xiao continued to pace outside of Dawn Winery in complete silence. He still hadn't heard a single word from you, and he had stayed awake all night. Not really a sacrifice since he pulled all-nighters frequently, but his hopes were crushed when his long night was filled with nothing but silence.

Inside, Aether approached Diluc rather quickly with Paimon in tow. "How would you like to kill Fatui?"

"I beg your pardon?" Diluc set his glass of grape juice on his desk. He had been busy with mapping the next wine delivery route when they suddenly barged through his doors. He kind of wished they had the kindness to knock, but the desperate glints in their eyes caught him off guard.

"We said, how would you like to kill the Fatui?" Paimon crossed her arms.

"We need to infiltrate Snezhnaya. They took her."

"'Her?'" Diluc raised a brow, already annoyed by the vagueness of their requests.

"Ugh, the same girl from yesterday! Who earned her cryo vision! She was taken last night at your tavern! Didn't you see us all run out?" Paimon's brows furrowed impatiently.

"We need to infiltrate Snezhnaya," Aether repeated and took a step forward. "We can't do it without you on our team."

"Hold on," Diluc waved a hand to silence them. "We can't just infiltrate a foreign country. There are laws and regulations you have to--"

"That's why we came to you!" Paimon yelled. "If anyone can get us in there, it's you and your underground connections!"

"You hate the Fatui more than anything," Aether continued. "Will you help us?"

Diluc thought for a moment while he traced the rim of his glass with his index finger. "We can't recklessly barge into enemy territory. I'll see what intel I can gather. Wait here."

Xiao burst through the doors almost as if he had seen a ghost--actually, that would be an inaccurate metaphor since he's quite experienced with the spirits of the dead. No matter. He burst through the doors as pale as a sheet. "I hear her."

..................................................

You glared at the third plate of food that sat upon the stool Childe left in your cell. You had refused to eat the prior two meals while he was in the cell with you. He had your cuffs unlocked so you could eat, but you refused to move from your place against the wall. Cooked fish, some sort of vegetable, and white rice. They were treating you well. You were needed alive and healthy, after all, but you weren't hungry. And since Childe had finally left you alone, well, that gave you the chance to talk to the only person you could.

Xiao. Xiao! The thought of startling him brought a thin smile to your lips. I wonder if I scared you...I'm safe--well, as safe as I can be at the moment. I miss you... Your smile faded. But I cannot call for you. It's too dangerous; I'm sure they already have a way to capture you. Now that I know you're always listening, it's nice to talk like this. Less lonely.

Something clinked against the outer cell door, and it opened. Childe and one of the harbingers you saw yesterday entered. The latter held a strange white-and-gray mask that obscured everything besides part of his right cheek and lips. His bluish-white hair almost seemed to brighten the small room from how light it was.

"It's a sign of disrespect if you refuse to eat the food provided for you," Childe commented once he saw that your plate was yet again untouched. "We're treating you with more hospitality than our prisoners, after all."

"This is still imprisonment. Screw off," you brought your knees to your chest as if your legs served to protect you from their stares.

"Ah, yes," the other harbinger picked the plate up and placed it at your feet. "My test subject needs to eat. I suggest you do it by your own will before I see to it myself."

"You might want to listen to him." Childe was warning you, but not out of consideration for you.

"Go to hell!" You threw the plate at the new harbinger since he was closest, and covered his tidy suit in food. The white rice mostly clung to the fabric. Thank the archons that your shoulder was healed and your arm could be put to good use now.

"Listen here, you little--" The man grabbed you by the collar and lifted you like you weighed nothing until your feet dangled above the ground. "I don't have the patience of the Tsaritsa's war dog. I do things quite differently, and you are under my jurisdiction now. See to it that you follow my orders to the tee, or I can make things very unpleasant here on out." He dropped you to the floor and exited the cell.

Childe gave you a look of 'I told you so' as he followed suite.

...............................................

What day is it? Your hazy mind stared at the opposite wall. You lazily traced figure-eights over your tattered jeans. Approximately twenty-one meals were served--and wasted-- so maybe it was day seven? A full week of sitting in this barren room?

A few days of no nutrition were of no consequence to you; you were a light eater anyway. But by day five you were beginning to get dizzy from your voluntary starvation. You slept most of the day. The slightest of movements made the world spin around you. Thoughts of giving in and digging into the meals crossed your mind several times.

I will not falter. They will not get what they need from me. I'll starve before they can have me, you gave yourself the pep talk over and over again. The hours that were filled with zero social interaction drove you mad; you'd either talk to yourself, or to Xiao, who you only hoped could still hear you and maybe even reply in his own mind. It was a shame the conversation couldn't go both ways.

"I miss you," you murmured a breath. "If I get out of this, would you like to go eat almond tofu with me?"

Childe entered quietly, and knelt in front of you after giving your full plate the side-eye. "This little hunger strike of yours needs to stop. You need to eat." You didn't answer, and he let out a small sigh. "Il Dottore finished his set-up this morning. I'm sure he'll be ready to take you from under my watch by tomorrow at the latest." He sat down now, and examined you carefully.

I didn't think we'd break her this quickly, he thought. Such a stubborn personality reduced to this pathetic heap of a woman. A slim smile spread across his lips when he realized how much he loved watching you break under the pressure.

"Leave," you breathed.

"You're smarter than I thought, you know." Childe placed his chin on the hand that was propped up on his leg. "If you really thought he had a chance at defeating us, you would have called for Xiao by now. You've isolated yourself from the only person that caught your eye."

That's what you think, you scoffed. I've been talking to him this whole damn time.

"Or have you been praying to him?" Childe's eyes narrowed and the grin on his lips only widened. The small glance you sent him validated his question. "You're telling me that this great and mighty adeptus has heard your suffering, and has yet to do a single thing about it? Are you really sure he's reliable? Oh, ojou-chan," he clicked his tongue and shook his head at you. "He won't neglect his duties to protect Liyue to come save you."

"You don't know him like I do," a bit of fighting spirit entered your hoarse voice, and your eyes began to glow.

"Oh, but I do. An ancient yaksha that's at least half the age of Morax himself, falling in love with a human girl? Is that what you're expecting from him?" The words cut deeper than his blade had cut through your shoulder. "You really believe such a hardened soul could learn to love in as quickly as a single human lifetime? Ojou-chan, open your eyes. He does not care for you, and he couldn't even if he tried. Look around you, ojou-chan. You're still here, in this dark cell, and he's where? In Mondstat? Liyue? He doesn't seem to care all too much about you."

"That's because I told him to stay away," you growled, eyes shining brighter. You curled your fists and prepared to strike him if he had the audacity to continue spewing nonsense. "You know, you have your entire life to be a jerk. Why don't you take today off?"

"Even if he did save you, there's no future with him. You will continue to chase after the illusion of love with him for the rest of your life, only to die alone with your youth wasted. Even if you escaped, you would be on the run for your entire life, hiding away from the preying eyes of the Fatui. Is that worth an escape, if you can no longer truly live?

"You're better off working with us, following Dottore's orders, and gaining the trust of the Tsaritsa. You can make a life for yourself here if you decide to survive. But out there," he pointed toward the cell door. "Out there, you will not live."

"You know, your ass must be pretty jealous of all the shit that comes out of your mouth!" You yelled as he exited the cell. Your plate collided with the door right as it closed. Hot tears stained your cheeks once you were left alone.

He's only trying to break you into submission, you soothed yourself as you hugged your legs. They felt thinner than usual. He's just trying to break me. But why do his words...make me feel so upset? You buried your face into your knees. Maybe he's right.

......................................................

"So the guard schedules all overlap? There's no way in?" Paimon looked over the scattered notes on Diluc's table. Most of them held ineligible scribbles on them, and she furrowed her brows because of it.

"This was all you were able to gather in a week?" Aether pulled at his hair and sighed heavily.

"Not many are willing to oppose the Fatui," said Diluc. "It took all my resources to get this much. We don't know the interior layout of the castle other than the main exits and entrances. But I did manage to find us a caravan that leaves at dawn tomorrow."

"Finally!" Paimon huffed. "Something useful!"

"I am sorry I haven't been of use to you all," Zhongli bowed his head in a sincere apology. "It has been years since I've last seen Snezhnaya and the cryo archon." You meant a great deal to the group, and Zhongli probably took your abduction the hardest since he could not intervene with the Tsaritsa and her plans.

"At least we finally have enough of a foundation to squeeze out a plan!"

"Have you heard from her at all today, Xia--?" Aether interrupted himself. "Are...you okay?"

All eyes turned to antisocial yaksha that stood at the back of the room. It was a small thing the traveler had noticed, but it was significant enough that it totally contradicted everything Xiao was.

He was crying.

First, you asked to eat with him when this was all over. Then an overwhelming sense of dread and helplessness flooded his mind like a tsunami. A single tear rolled down his cheek and he hastily wiped it away. A tear?

"Stay out of my way," he disappeared from the room and manifested outside. What was this unfamiliar clenching in his chest? This clenching in his throat? The way his hands tingled and his eyes stung? The afternoon sun seemed to worsen it.

"Xiao," a deep voice spoke behind him, and he turned to face it. Zhongli placed a large hand on the yaksha's head and closed his eyes for a moment. When he released his grip, he too, felt the same pain in his chest.

"She's in pain," the yaksha murmured. "Every day she grows weaker. Her strength, it...diminishes." While it was a blessing to know you were alive, it was also a curse. He could hear the uncertainty in your voice when you prayed, and the way you hesitate to speak to him each passing day. The centuries of hardened walls blocking the yaksha from emotion grew weaker the more you did.

"Your bond has grown," the archon explained the physical and mental phenomena Xiao was being put through. "You feel her emotions, just as she feels yours."

"Rid me of them," Xiao ordered. "I have no need for the emotions of a human."

"She is no longer the only one that holds human emotions. You care for her deeply, do you not?" No answer. Blank stare. "I'm certain you've contemplated and understood my words in Qingce Village by now." Zhongli's eyes followed the ascending path of two cranes flying overhead. "You wish to rescue her, even though Liyue requires your protection? You're worried I won't grant your request?"

"...Yes."

"Worry no longer; it is granted. But be warned, Guardian Yaksha, emotions cannot be permanently ignored. They will rise to the forefront sooner or later," his gaze returned to Xiao's. "You best be sure to share them before they fall on the ears of an early grave."

#xiao x reader #genshin impact #xiao genshin impact #genshin impact xiao #genshin imagines #xiao #xiao fanfiction

225 notes · View notes

sockendrache · 3 years

Text

Kyle-Headcanons

A compiled list with all of my Kyle-Headcanons that no one asked for but I throw at you anyways. Like one would throw seeds into a duck-pond and hope for at least one duck to swim by and find joy in the offered thrash-

-After tolerating (befriending) the Rider for a while, they start to bug him with getting a Monstie. When he finally reaches his breaking-point with being showered in Monster-slobber and urged to take a ride on *insert Monstie* because it’s sooo much fun, he decides to take matters into his own hands. He disappears for a few hours; Rider leans back with a smug grin, congratulating themselves on a job well done- only to choke on their own spit when Kyle comes back to the village riding on a Kelbi.

-Turns out he’d often pass the time with riding Kelbis when he was younger and not yet allowed to tag along to his Dad’s hunts or join his brothers on the training grounds

-He’s got this wicked scar on his chest, covering almost the entire length of his torso- he claims it’s from that one time he single-handedly fought off a Xeno’jiva and Tsukino refuses to tell the scar’s origin

-Though, his brothers gleefully tell the story of how tiny widdle Kyle tried out the Insect Glaive for the first time and almost impaled himself during a vault-attack. They fully agree that the Xeno’Jiva story sounds better, though

-He’s an insomniac. Either sleeps 3 hours or none at all, at this point he’s running on nothing but adrenaline, teenage-angst, demon-drug and pure spite (legend says he’s already built up a resistance to demon-drug)

-Speaking of demon-drug. he’s quite famous around the base for his misuse of hunting-drugs. You don’t even have to be lucky to see him chug cold-drinks outside of the thundra- apparently he just likes the biting taste of mint and pain.

-For some reason he collects Monster-teeth. Not even ones he broke off during his own hunts; he’ll just pick up whatever tooth he comes across. Even Tsukino doesn’t know why- the Rider doesn’t even attempt asking

-Kyle claims that more than half of the hunters he knows are pure masochists, judged purely on the fact that they eat their steaks well-done. He may drink demon-drug like it’s an energy-drink, but he’d rather eat his steaks raw before grilling the life out of them.

-Speaking of grill, he’s not allowed to touch the grill anymore when hunting with Reverto. After watching the kid burn two steaks back to back, Reverto guards the steaks in similar fashion to herbivores guarding their eggs

-He once spent 3 hours stuck in an Azuros-nest between two sleeping Azuros. He refuses to tell the story of how the hell that happened; but if the Rider dares to bring him anywhere near an Azuros he won’t waste a second booking it out of the area

-Everyone who’s ever made the mistake to let Kyle ‘relax’ after a hunt with some beer (maybe the guild should establish a set drinking-age along with a set hunting-age) promptly had to sit through a 2-hour-rant about why the hell Hunters need to sharpen their hammers or hunting horns

-Even sober-Kyle can’t figure out why the hell that is a thing

-Any attempts at explaining it to him may or may not end with dung-pods stuck in places they shouldn’t ever touch

-Kyle brings two shock-traps and two para-toads to every hunt. No one questions him on his reasoning

-He sleeps bundled up in three blankets and buried under a Banbaro-fur-coat. No matter the season, as soon as the sun goes down, Kyle just turns into a heat-seeking reptile.

-Kyle bites. Not his preferred method of fighting back, but when in physical combat with another person where drawing his weapon might seem illegal, he will use the turf-wars he’s witnessed as inspiration, much to the dismay of his opponent

-Reverto once had to drag him out of a fight by his collar. Ever since he’s been comparing Kyle to a Paolumu. No explanation needed.

-He’s somewhat fluent in Wyverian- why the hell he taught himself an ancient language, no one knows and at this point everyone is afraid to ask

-Kyle is still perceived as a rookie-hunter; yet everyone acts like he’s about the same level of feral bullshit as a Paolumu

-That’s because he is

-One of the Field-Team Leaders once bribed him with 2000 Zenny to try to imitate a Paolumu’s call

-It took 20 minutes to explain to the panicked scholars running in that there isn’t a wild Paolumu rampaging through the base; mostly because the Leader was laughing too hard and Kyle sulked in the corner while counting his money

#mhst #mhst2 #mhst kyle #mhst reverto #mhst rider #reverto #kyle #monster hunter stories 2 #monster hunter stories wings of ruin #tsukino #headcanon #paolumu #headcanons #feral hunter kyle reporting for duty

39 notes · View notes

blitheringmcgonagall · 3 years

Text

My Gallant Lad - Part I

So I got a wonderful anon today telling me this is their favourite Lily Rescues James fic, it’s part of my canon marauders fic We Can Be Heroes. But, because it works as a stand alone, I’ll be posting it in 4 parts here. I hope you enjoy it (Lily is very BAMF here but tbh so is James). Set during First Wizarding War...

James slammed the palms of his hands down on Dumbledore’s desk.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” he said, his eyes a hot mess of emotions.

“Get your oafish hands off my desk, now!” Lily said, recovering from the initial shock almost immediately with a flash of anger.

“Your desk?” James said, taking his hands off the desk, nevertheless.

“I’m using it now, yes, I need to get these mission forms finished and signed before bringing them for filing in the Room of Requirement,” Lily said, looking back at James angrily. “What the hell is your problem, Potter?”

“My problem?” James was furious. “I’ll tell you what my problem is, Evans. My problem is that my bloody wife thought it sensible to visit Walburga Black, the same woman who thinks nothing of throwing a Crucio at her children, whose husband tried to kill Sirius, who detests muggleborns, who tried to – oh fucking hell, Lily! What the absolute, ever-living fuck possessed you?”

She had never seen him so angry. She folded her arms defensively and glared back, wondering how he had found out.

“I’ll tell you exactly what possessed me, Potter,” she said coldly. “My problem is my dickhead of a husband who nearly got himself thrown into Azkaban by the Blacks, but then thought it sensible to attend a Black family funeral, and to top it all, decided to call over to chat to Orion’s heir, as you do! Do I need to explain it further? What exactly was I meant to do? Let you read the letter and let you waltz back in there so that bitch could finish you off, once and for all?”

She was standing up now, and he couldn’t quite understand how someone so slender and uncommonly kind could look so intimidating and fierce within the space of a few seconds.

“That letter was addressed to me, damn it!” James said, his voice rising with irritation. “You had no right opening my post!”

“I don’t care!” Lily said, looking more agitated and feeling guilty. “If you think I would have let you just go there, you’re even more stupid than I gave you credit for!”

“You’re a muggleborn, Evans, fucking bloody fucking…” James’ words ran out as he waved his arm about with rage. “You could have been killed, do you understand me? Killed, damn it!”

“Yes, well, so could you, at least I have more sense! Remus and I knew what we were doing!” Lily shot back, feeling angrier by the second.

“You clearly didn’t, Evans! What you did was grossly irresponsible and wilfully sly! I don’t care what you say, you could have been killed, Evans, for fuck’s sake! When I see Moony, I’m going to kill him!”

James made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat and slammed his fist against the wall. Damn it, he was furious and livid and scared out of his wits and fucking sick of this shit.

“Remus didn’t have any choice, I told him I was going, and he decided to come with me, surely a safer bet! Don’t you dare drag Remus into this!” Lily said.

“Don’t you dare, ever, ever go behind my back like that again, ever, do you hear me?” he shouted.

“You can scream all you like, Potter, you don’t get to tell me what to do!” Lily said, her voice rising angrily.

“Don’t you dare act like you’re the innocent one in this Evans, for fuck’s sake!” James said.

“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me, Potter!” Lily said. “Get out!”

Her voice was starting to wobble which made her even madder.

“You know what? Fine!” James said, gripping his wand tightly and watching as furious sparks flew from his wand tip. “If you want to tell yourself that this is my fault, if you want to lie to yourself so you can – ugh! Lily, don’t you dare defend this!”

“I’m not listening to your ranting any longer!” Lily said, slamming the book shut and flinging her quills and parchment into her well-worn bag.

She marched past him, livid and upset and boiling with rage. They hadn’t spoken since. James had slept at his parents’ house for a while and now, with Sirius and Remus gone, James had taken to sleeping in his friends’ bedroom. He didn’t like leaving her with only Wormy for protection. They avoided each other at mealtimes. Peter had cringed and disappeared into the relative safety of his bedroom. There was simply no way he could win if he took sides. They were both still furious.

***

“Looks like you swapped into an easy shift,” said Edgar Bones, loosening his collar and placing his cloak over his arm. “Nothing much happening, no handover.”

“Thanks,” said James curtly.

“Lily, James,” Edgar said, tipping his hat at them, sensing something was amiss but too polite to bring it up in conversation.

“Edgar,” said James.

“Bye, Edgar, see you soon,” Lily said, smiling at him half-heartedly.

“If it stays this quiet, I’m going to try going for a kip,” said Frank Longbottom, looking at the fireplace one last time and throwing a blanket over himself.

James nodded absent-mindedly, his left hand restlessly tapping on his thigh, shooting Lily fleeting glances when he knew she wasn’t watching. He hated whenever they fought, and this had been their worst row ever. The night stayed quiet, Lily dozed off on the armchair and James watched her. He was worried about her too, she looked pale and she seemed off her food for weeks now. It added to the leaden feeling of guilt he was carrying. It was his fault. He was right, he was damned well right, and he had nothing to apologise for, but he probably would. Because he knew what he was getting himself into when he married her, didn’t he? And wouldn’t he have done the exact same thing in her place, he told himself for the umpteenth time? He transfigured his jumper into a warm, thick blanket and placed it over her gently, doubling it up and kissing the top of her head tenderly. He watched the magical fairy lights on the tree twinkling merrily. He couldn’t have felt less Christmassy. He fell asleep eventually, having transfigured the rug into a scratchy blanket.

He was woken up by a loud shout emanating from the fireplace.

“You better get your sorry arses down here immediately! I’ve just intercepted intel that a couple of Death Eaters are planning an attack on a muggle school bus in the vicinity of Newcastleton!” Dedalus Diggle’s voice crackled.

“Where’s that?” said James, his voice still croaky from sleep.

“Border between England and Scotland. Dumbledore has left a special portkey in his room that means you should be able to get anywhere, immediately. Hurry! There’s nobody else around.”

“Great!” grumbled Frank, sitting up reluctantly, but shoving his feet into his shoes without hesitation. “Typical Dumbledore, never around when you need him!”

“Get some water and rations and let’s go,” Lily said, standing up and sitting back down rather suddenly.

“Alright, Evans?” James said, with a concerned frown.

“Fine, just feeling a bit sick, probably need to eat something,” she said.

“Maybe you should stay behind?” James said.

“No!” Lily said, forcing herself to stand. “It’s fine. We can’t risk it. It’s children, James!”

James nodded immediately. He wanted to apologise, but not in front of Frank.

“Dedalus, can you try and contact a few of the others in case anyone is available to join us? We’ll be with you in a jiffy,” he said.

“No can do, I’ve also had word of another attack planned in Wales, I’m trying to get in touch with Moody as we speak!”

“Got it,” said Lily, looking at Frank and James. “Don’t worry, we’re on it!”

***

“This place gives me the creeps,” said James, peering up at the tall trees.

The air felt thick and heavy, the branches seemed to vie with each other to block out the sunlight, suffocating. Thick moss, grey and faded, clung to everything, dried twigs and branches snapped loudly beneath their feet, disturbing the numerous birds whose harsh cries filled the air, as though spying on them, he thought, watching their acrobatic flight.

“Jackdaws,” he said quietly, moving closer to Lily.

Lily gave him a quizzical look.

“That’s their call - a short, loud, ‘kya’ sound, and they have distinctive, beady white eyes,” he added.

“Is there anything you guys don’t know?” grumbled Frank, shooting James a friendly grin.

“Nope,” James grinned back.

He moved closer to Lily, protectively, feeling a threat in the fabric of the forest, ancient memories, secret and forbidding. He had transfigured the portkey into a muggle leather bracelet, insignificant and worthless to any potential Death-Eaters, which he had placed on Lily’s wrist despite her protestations.

“They must be here somewhere,” Frank whispered, holding his wand aloft. “If we just keep walking, we’ll increase the chances of them seeing us.”

“Let’s split up, I’ll hide in there,” Lily said, pointing to a decrepit, large pine, whose gnarly trunk was rotting and held space for one person. “You two get on higher ground. We can all see the road from here. If you spot anything dangerous, send your signal.”

James’ was an owl hooting, Lily’s was the snort of a frightened deer, Frank’s was the harsh screech of a magpie.

“Alright,” James said, turning to look at Lily, feeling awkward and unsure. “Take care, please.”

“You too,” Lily said, her face unreadable.

“I’m glad Alice isn’t on call today,” Frank whispered after a pause, as they moved on carefully. “We just found out she’s pregnant. Bit of a shock really. Took us ages to figure it out, despite her feeling nauseated for a couple of weeks, being off her food, feeling dizzy and tired, you name it!”

He looked excited and pleased.

“Frank!” said James. “Wow, that’s… that’s brave of you, and rather wonderful news.”

He didn’t know what to say.

He stopped short.

Took us ages to figure it out, despite her feeling nauseated for a couple of weeks, being off her food, feeling dizzy and tired, you name it!

The night of Sirius’ twentieth Birthday. They had both forgotten to cast a contraceptive charm. Could that explain…?

“Frank, I forgot something, I need to run back to Lily, go ahead!” James said.

“You okay?” Frank said, seeing James’ face turn grey.

But he was already gone.

***

“Lily!” James said, catching his breath.

“What is it?” Lily said, wand ready to shoot.

“Lily, have you done a pregnancy charm?”

“A what?”

“To see if you’re pregnant?”

“No, why?”

They stared at each other for a moment. Understanding dawned on her.

“James,” said Lily, her green eyes searching his anxiously.

“Let me,” James whispered, taking hold of his wife’s slender wrist and turning her palm upwards, he pointed his wand tip at her pulse point. “Gravidam!”

They both watched as James’ wand tip glowed green.

“Fuck,” he said hoarsely, staring at her.

“What does that mean, James?” Lily said.

“It means… it means you’re pregnant,” James said, running a hand through his hair in agitation. “Fucking bloody fucking…”

Lily’s eyes were wide as his words sank in. As his reaction sank in. She turned away from him and swiped hastily at the tears that fell down her cheeks silently.

“We need to…” James said urgently. “Fucking Merlin… fuck, fuck, fuck!”

“I’m sorry, alright?” Lily’s voice broke as she spoke, her lower lip trembling. “I should have been more careful. I didn’t mean this to happen now, God I really didn’t mean this to… I understand if that’s how you feel, James, but I-“

“What?” James said, turning her around to face him and taking her face in his hands tenderly. “Lily, Merlin, I don’t mean –“

The screech of a magpie rent the air and they both jumped.

“Incarcerous!” numerous voices shouted, as thick ropes coiled themselves swiftly around them, James’ wand dropping to the floor.

“Expelliarmus!” a recognisable voice added, James’ wand flying through the air. “Where’s the other one’s wand?”

“Mulciber,” James said, the blood draining from his face.

“I said, where’s your wand, bitch?” Mulciber said, grabbing Lily by the throat.

“I dropped it earlier on,” Lily rasped, staring back at him defiantly. “I can’t find it.”

“Accio Lily Evans’ wand!” Mulciber ordered, pointing his wand at Lily.

Lily’s wand flew out of the thicket behind them. Mulciber leered at Lily.

“Grab hold of them and set anti-apparition wards around them! And get them to de Soulis Castle, now!” Mulciber said to the other Death-Eaters who surrounded them. “The Dark Lord will be very disappointed to find that it isn’t Sirius Black we have captured, just a useless blood-traitor and a vile mudblood. The information we received must have been incorrect.”

“Shut the fuck up, Mulciber!” James sprang forwards in fury.

“Quiet!” Mulciber said, coming right up in front of Lily and grabbing hold of her Jacket collar. “Or she gets hurt.”

James swallowed.

I tried to laugh about it Cover it all up with lies I tried to laugh about it Hiding the tears in my eyes 'Cause boys don't cry

***

The weathered remains of the castle loomed, malevolent, as they crossed the bridge over the moat. Fragments of a tower emerged, the holes in its walls reminiscent of a skull. While the forest around it was dry and parched, wilting and unseasonably warm, as they neared the castle gates mist descended on them. The inside of the castle felt damp and cold. Much colder. Mulciber’s breath condensed in front of him as he spoke, frost clung to the corners of the walls, there were no windows in the great hall.

He had seen this room before… where?

The heavy double doors leading into the main banqueting hall swung open, and four men entered, none of their faces were masked.

“Villiers, Wilkes, Rosier, Snape,” said Mulciber, with a cold laugh. “Your very closest allies, I believe? I failed to retrieve the disowned Black heir, but I found these.”

Villiers and Wilkes giggled. Silence descended as another figure entered the room, the five men bowing immediately. Muciber pushed James and Lily forcefully and they fell forwards onto their knees. James watched as Voldemort approached slowly, with a gleeful expression. He zoned in on Snape, Snape who was watching Lily with terror on his face, before carefully schooling it into neutral.

The room.

McGonagall’s grim tones echoed in his mind.

“So, a group of Death Eaters, who appear to have captured Lily Evans, in an unidentified location?”

Divination class. His vision. He had forseen this.

“Lily,” he said quietly, speaking through his teeth. “Do you trust me to get us out?”

He was sure Voldemort could hear his heart pounding.

“If you have an idea, I’m all in,” Lily murmured, watching Voldemort as he drew nearer.

“Leave it to me,” he whispered.

Taking a deep breath, he turned and locked eyes with Severus Snape.

“Fuck you, Severus Snape! You absolute bastard! Stay the fuck away from my wife, do you hear? Don’t you dare go near her, you fucking piece of shit! I despise you, Snivellus! You fucking coward! Bastard cursed Death Eater! Stay the fuck away from her or I’ll kill you with my bare hands!” James screamed.

#My Gallant Lad #WCBH one shots #BAMF!Lily #BAMF!James #Lily rescues James #first wizarding war #angst and adventure #anti sneep #not for you if you like sneep #jily fic #canon Jily #marauders era

72 notes · View notes