#(i'm going to stop and post this before I keep coming up with additional pieces of advice this is already so long)
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monaco blues - Marcus Armstrong
At first I think I have to apologize to whoever asked for the Dennis fic because I have decided to put it on ice for a while until I actually like what I'm writing again, sorry for that :(
Here's a lil Marcus fic, including smut, unprotected sex (pls don't do that in real life!) and fluff :)
Marcus Armstrong x reader; As Marcus returns to Monaco for the F2 race he keeps an eye out for a certain someone who had made his previous visit an unforgettable experience
You had had sex multiple times that night: The night you should have regretted immediately afterwards.
But how could you possibly regret a night in which you had had multiple orgasms without having to fake it once, though?
Why should you have regretted it anyways?
Maybe because the guy you had hooked up with was none other than Marcus Armstrong, as you had only found out the next morning.
Your social media had already been overflowing: someone had spotted Marcus leaving the club in Monte Carlo with you in his arm.
The caption had made you stop in your tracks:
“Spotted: Marcus Armstrong leaving the Royal Club in Monte Carlo with mystery girl #5 on his arm… seems like the Kiwi is really enjoying his holidays ;)”
Seeing that post on Instagram had given you enough reason to regret the whole night, sneaking out of his hotel room as quiet and fast as possible.
After that shocking revelation it came as no surprise that you were enraged.
First: He had lied to you about who he was.
Second: You hated being another number on his list.
Another girl he had successfully seduced into pleasuring him. So obviously all that rage quickly focused on him, keeping him in your mind for weeks to come even though all you wanted to do was forget about him. Him. Marcus Armstrong.
Kiwi F2 driver, not an ordinary engineer like he had told you.
The man who had you a moaning mess beneath him the whole night.
Often times you’d dream of him… of his hands on your body, his lips in all the right places and his damn raspy voice.
It had made you furious that your were somehow still constantly reminded of his existence when you were so determined to delete him from your memory forever.
As time passed though, you found yourself thinking about that night less frequently, finally managing to banish Marcus into the darkest depths of your mind.
Weeks and months flew by, you were buried deep in your studies and barely had any time or piece of mind to spare for him.
Your primary rage had finally died down, being able to cope with all the Formula 2 pages on Instagram still tagging you in Marcus-related photos.
Thankfully your account had been set to private from the beginning so no one could actually see your photos and you had had the great joy of declining Marcus’ follow request the morning after.
So things were looking up for you again, especially since you had just taken your last exam before summer break in May.
You were on your way back home on your bike, riding through the streets of Monaco with your bag over your shoulder and the biggest smile on your face when suddenly you had to stop.
The road was closed.
You frowned, before asking the man standing behind the barrier what was going on.
“I’m sorry, Miss, but you cannot go through here. Tomorrow’s the first day of the Monaco Grand Prix. Important people will be coming and going constantly.”, he shrugged with an apologetic smile.
You sighed.
It was just your luck: Having to take an alternative route around the paddock area which would take you an additional ten minutes.
And that was when you saw it: A huge truck with the Formula 2 logo on it passing the barrier.
No. It couldn’t be.
“Excuse me, sir. Is Formula 2 racing here this weekend as well?”
Your heart dropped when the man nodded.
If Formula 2 was here, he was here too.
Suddenly there was a weird sour taste on your tongue, the huge smile from earlier wiped off your face just like that.
Today was supposed to be such a good day but instead you were slapped in the face by something Marcus-related yet again.
Great.
You thanked the man behind the barrier and took the alternative route, not able to stop your mind from already making up the wildest scenarios of possible ways of meeting Marcus again.
Under no circumstances did you want to see him again, no matter how good the sex had been. You could feel the anger building up inside you again just reliving the morning after.
Finding out he had been lying to you, exposing you to the media without you knowing.
So the decision was clear: This next weekend would be spent at home, only occasionally leaving your apartment to go get food. Because you knew just how easy it was running into someone in the small streets of Monte Carlo, so you would not take the risk of encountering him.
However, your best friend had other plans.
That same evening she would not stop talking you into going out with her.
Of course, all of your friends had taken their last exam today, too, so there was a good reason to celebrate.
You had also wanted nothing more but to go out again after having spent many many evenings studying at home. But that was before you had found out Marcus was in the same town as you again.
Somehow your best friend still managed to drag you to the club, though. The night was spent always keeping a watchful eye out for a certain Kiwi, but you were in luck.
Everything went smoothly and you actually allowed yourself to have fun again.
Only then did you realize how stupid your fear of meeting Marcus had been. You shouldn’t have to be afraid of meeting him, in fact it should be the other way around.
Because if you ever saw him again so help you god would you give him a piece of your mind. And it would not be pretty.
So thanks to your new mindset and confidence you found yourself in the club once again on Sunday night after the Monaco Grand Prix.
You were already a few drinks deep, dancing with your girl friends in the middle of the club, the alcohol taking away any shame you might have felt when grinding your hips against your best friend’s.
She let her hands wander over your body seductively, from your short top over the white skirt you had thrown on.
It looked hot, no question in that, but what you didn’t know at that point was that he was watching.
Marcus had been watching you the whole time, from when you’d first stepped into the club to now. Of course he had hoped to see you again, after waking up to an empty bed a few months ago.
At first he had been confused as to why you had left without saying anything, then it had dawned on him what had happened and he immediately cursed himself for being so stupid to think lying to you would be a good idea.
Sadly, one look at his phone had confirmed his worries.
Although it was helpful that the internet had so quickly found your Instagram account, it had been a slap in the face when you had declined his follow request.
There had been some horrible headlines out there and he had wanted nothing more than to explain everything to you.
Yes, he had been hooking up with different girls almost every night during that trip but that had immediately stopped after your night together.
Because the moment he had laid eyes on you he knew he was done for.
Everything about you was perfect, leaving him with the want for more.
He wanted all of you, not just the amazing sex.
But it had been too late and so Marcus had been left with his own memories of that night, replaying it over and over in his mind.
So naturally you were all he could focus on when he realized you were in the same club as him, dancing only a few meters away from him, having the time of your life.
You looked hotter than ever, unholy thoughts racing in his mind immediately.
His weekend had been one of his best ones in Formula 2 so far so his mood had been good already, but seeing you really was the icing on the cake.
He just had to wait for the right moment to finally talk to you… and maybe have another drink to boost his confidence. Because he had no idea how to approach you.
You were so unpredictable, Marcus couldn’t for the life of him read you.
“Mate, check out Clem, he’s wasted!”, Felipe exclaimed, throwing his arm around Marcus, pulling Marcus’ attention away from you momentarily.
An amused smile found its way onto Marcus’ face as he watched Felipe run over to Clem to hand him another drink.
Felipe really was a nightmare friend to party with, Marcus had understood that fairly quickly.
With a grin still on his face, Marcus turned his head back to you, searching for a white skirt in the crowd…. And his face dropped.
Your white skirt was no longer pushed up against the girl you had been dancing with but another guy’s hand was snaked around your waist, your back turned towards Marcus.
He could feel the jealousy bubbling up almost immediately until he noticed that your arms were indeed not around the guy’s neck.
Instead, you were awkwardly trying to wriggle yourself out of his grip. Relief flushed through Marcus, but the stranger did not get your message, bringing you closer to him again.
That was it.
Marcus downed his own drink, making his way across the dance floor to where you were standing.
His hands found their way around your waist, the movement feeling so natural to him.
“Having fun, babe?”
Both you and the other guy looked at him with equal confusion, both your eyes widening at the same time as the two of you recognized him.
“You’re…”, the guy muttered, immediately letting go of you. Marcus squeezed your waist, hoping to relax you.
“Marcus Armstrong, yes. If you’d please stop harassing my girlfriend that would be very kind of you.”, Marcus gave the stranger a friendly but deadly smile, making him turn around to quickly disappear after a quick apology.
As soon as the guy was gone you pulled Marcus’ arms off your hips, turning around with a displeased look on your face. Yes, you were thankful the other guy was gone but you did not like the guy standing in front of you now either.
“Since when am I your girlfriend, huh?”, you scoffed, crossing your arms.
“Since other guys are touching you.”, Marcus responded taken aback.
“Well goodbye then, babe.”, you gave him a fake smile before turning around to disappear into the crowd.
However he reacted quickly, grabbing your arm to spin you around once again.
“Wait! Can we at least talk?”
You let out a sarcastic laugh.
“About what? The fact that you lied to me or the fact that the whole world knows I slept with you?”
Marcus knew you were right.
“I’m sorry. I truly am. I just panicked when I first saw you because you looked so fucking gorgeous and I didn’t want to fuck it up…”, he stammered, talking fast because he didn’t know how much longer you’d still talk to him.
“But you did. You fucked up everything, Marcus.”, you sounded hurt and Marcus hated that he was the reason for it.
“I know…I never meant for any of it to happen, I swear, but…this is me asking you for a second chance. Please.”, he looked down at his hand on your arm, then back at you.
You didn’t know what to say, your brain not functioning properly anymore from the alcohol.
All you knew was that you definitely didn’t hate him even though every part of you wanted you to hate him.
And you should… but you didn’t.
“You lied to me.”, you took a step towards him, looking into his eyes.
“Thanks to you I still get messages from random people on the internet on a daily basis.”, another step towards him.
You were now close enough to feel his hot breath as he looked down at you, not daring to break the eye contact.
“Thanks to you my standards are so fucking high when it comes to sex.”, your drunken mind took over as your hand came up to his chest, feeling his heart beating almost as fast as your own did.
Neither of you knew what was going to happen next, yet you both knew exactly where you’d end up this night.
“I fucking hate you.”, both your hands now rested against his chest, still keeping the eye contact. Marcus gulped audibly.
“And I hate that I still want you.”
Then you stood on your tiptoes, your hands finding his neck to pull him down to finally connect your lips. Marcus didn’t need much time to adjust, his hands naturally finding your waist again, pulling you into him tightly.
When his tongue slipped into your mouth you unfortunately had to admit how much you had missed this feeling of absolute electricity and excitement flowing through your body.
A feeling only Marcus’ touch could evoke.
Your hands started playing with his hair while his hands found your ass, occasionally slipping under the skirt, making you moan into his mouth.
Marcus could feel himself getting hard within seconds, which wasn’t a surprise to him seeing as he’d pleasured himself many times thinking of you in the past couple of months.
“You wanna go somewhere else?”, you whispered into the kiss, Marcus nodding immediately.
You pulled apart and he looked at you again with…adoration in his eyes?
Then he took your hand in his, leading you out of the club, where a lot of people where currently waiting for taxis to arrive.
As you waited for your taxi in the cold, away from any curious eyes, you let go of his hand to hug yourself, spending you some warmth. Monaco at night could be freezing, especially when you were only in a short top and skirt.
Marcus noticed your shivering, but didn’t have a jacket to offer you since he’d only come in his shirt.
“Come here, you’re freezing.”, he pulled you close to him, encasing you in his arms delicately. Your hands rested against his chest as you looked up at him.
Only then did you realize that it was going to hurt like hell, leaving him tomorrow, knowing he would forget about you soon enough.
“What are you thinking about?”, he smirked, giving you a peck to the lips.
Quickly you shook off your sadness and intrusive thoughts because you didn’t want to show your vulnerability, shaking your head.
“Nothing..it’s just cold.”, you forced a smile on your face before burying your head in his chest to avoid his gaze.
Marcus knew something was off by the tone of your voice and the half smile you had put on, he just couldn’t pinpoint it, which is why he decided to let it go.
If you wanted to tell him, eventually you would.
Then Marcus got a text.
“Our taxi isn’t going to be here for another thirty minutes, they’ve blocked some roads.”, he groaned, letting his head fall back. You chewed on your lip, looking back up at him.
“We could go to my place..”, you suggested shyly, catching his attention.
Obviously he hadn’t considered that option yet.
“It’s only a five minute walk from here.”, you added, watching as he contemplated the option.
Then he nodded, letting you take the lead while he intertwined your fingers again.
On your way to the apartment the tension and anticipation almost became unbearable so it came as no surprise that Marcus had you pushed up against the nearest wall, kissing you deeply as soon as you had closed the door behind him.
You moaned as he pressed himself against you, feeling his erection against your core.
Your hands toyed with his hair, pulling slightly at his roots as he moved from your lips to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses everywhere.
He sucked and bit at your neck, making you writhe under his touch while his hands roamed your body, coming to a hold at your ass.
He had so desperately been craving to touch you for the past months, he felt like an addict.
First he lifted one of your legs around his waist, gripping your thigh as if you were his own personal drug: not able to get enough of you, of your body.
“Jump.”, he whispered into your ear, his free hand already on its way to your other thigh.
When you wrapped both your legs around him, he pushed you into the wall even further to hoist you up properly.
His face was now at the perfect height to attack your cleavage, kissing and sucking his way to your nipples.
“Marcus..”, you moaned, your mind already hazy.
He responded by finally reaching his hand under your skirt, pushing your underwear aside quickly.
Your hips bucked into him at his touch, making him smirk against your skin because he knew he had full control over you.
“Already so wet for me?”, he asked, cockily leaning his head back to look at you. You rolled your eyes.
“Just shut up and touch me.”, you pulled his head towards you again, connecting your lips to a fiery kiss. However, he decided to tease you a little while longer, letting his digits ghost over your clit.
“What’s the magic word, darling?”, he smirked once again, enjoying your frustrated expression. You weren’t going to give in to his dominance play though. At least not yet.
“If you won’t touch me I can gladly touch myself.”, you replied, trying to free yourself from his grip.
Marcus was quick to tighten his grip though, giving you a challenging look as he pressed you against the wall harder.
“We both know it wouldn’t be the same though.”, he started peppering your neck with kisses, your body reacting to his touch automatically, arching your back towards him even though you didn’t want to.
You could feel him smile against the crook of your neck, so you pulled his hair back rather harshly, forcing him to lean his head back with a groan.
As you kept him from kissing you it was now your turn to smirk at him.
“Fine. No touching means no kissing then.”
Marcus scoffed, rolling his eyes.
“You know you can be a fucking brat sometimes.”
To this you only smiled, knowing you had him right where you wanted because you noticed his gaze wandering in-between your tits and eyes again, hungry for your skin.
“Are you gonna touch me then?”, you asked impatiently, batting your eyelashes at him innocently all while stilling having a grip on his hair, keeping him at a safe distance.
You thought he was about to give in, lose this battle, but you had been wrong.
Instead of finally pushing his fingers inside you, he placed you back down, letting go of your hips. Confused, you went to say something but were quickly cut off by him grabbing your hips, turning you around to push your front to the wall, his cock now pressing against your ass.
However, you couldn’t help but smile.
You liked it when Marcus gave you the control but you loved his dominant side even more.
Of course Marcus didn’t miss your smile either, letting out a small laugh.
“That’s what I thought.”
As you weren’t really in a position to touch him yourself, your only option was grinding against his cock as best as you could.
Marcus let out a heavy breath which didn’t go unnoticed by you.
His hand wrapped around your hair, holding you in place as his other hand wandered up your ass under your skirt.
He flipped the skirt up, exposing your ass to him so that he could lay a sharp slap to your ass, making you gasp.
“That’s for not following orders, darling.”, he tsked, soothing the spot with his hand.
“Look so good for me tonight.”, he groaned, taking in the view of your half naked ass.
“Only for you..”, you hoped to get him to touch you again.
Unimpressed, Marcus let out a raspy laugh.
“No shit, this pussy is mine.”, suddenly his hand came around your waist to cup your pussy, making your hips buck into his hand.
“Please, Marcus..”, you moaned, throwing all of your previous intentions out of the window to finally beg for him.
“Please what? Use your words, love.”, Marcus had a cocky smirk plastered on his face again, knowing he’d won this round.
You rolled your eyes but decided to surrender, being too desperate for his touch.
“Please touch me, Marcus. Need your fingers inside me.”
That was all it took to have Marcus’ fingers pull your slip aside, this time wasting no time in entering you.
You pressed your ass even further against his cock at the sensation, making him grow even harder.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”, he asked with a smug look on his face, moving his fingers faster inside you while his hand that was in your hair came around to cup your chin.
He turned your face to look back at him, giving you a sloppy kiss of appreciation.
Then his hand went to massage your clit, pulling another loud moan from you.
“Not sure how much longer I can last…”, you gasped, feeling the familiar knot tighten in your stomach.
Marcus sped up his fingers just until your head fell back onto his shoulder: The sign that you were about to cum.
So he pulled his fingers out of you quickly, leaving you frustrated and empty.
“Marcus..”, you cried out immediately, a tear falling from your eye over the ruined orgasm.
But Marcus only rolled his eyes.
“Will you stop whining?”, he retorted in a rather annoyed voice, pulling down your skirt and panties as well as his own pants.
You waited in anticipation as Marcus stroked his rock hard cock before he let it glide through your folds.
He pushed you back against the wall, his free hand around your neck. Your legs wanted to give out from the sensation of the ruined orgasm still looming over you, but Marcus held you in place firmly.
Even now he couldn’t stop the teasing though: not entering you yet, even though he saw your pleading face, his own dick twitching in his hand.
He let his cock swipe through your folds again, gathering all your wetness before finally pushing into you.
The moan you let out as he entered you was a sound Marcus would replay often times when he’d pleasure himself in the future.
For a moment he stilled his movements, giving you enough time to adjust.
“Ready?”, as he kissed the spot beneath your ear you shivered, nodding eagerly.
“Want you to fuck-”, you replied, the rest of your sentence being lost in a moan because he started thrusting into you at a steady fast pace.
Your mouth hang wide open, feeling him grab your ass tightly, guiding your hips towards his cock while he pounded into you.
“Oh fuck.”, he hissed when you clenched around him, his hand coming up to your neck to pull your back against him.
The new angle had him hitting all the right spots inside you, making your legs shake.
“You like that?”, he smirked, applying light pressure to your neck.
However your brain wasn’t exactly able to form sentences right now so you didn’t answer, giving him a moan instead. But that didn’t satisfy Marcus.
He squeezed your neck harder, his other hand finding your clit while he kept his relentless pace.
“Answer me.”, he growled into your ear, a squeal escaping your lips as he pressed his fingers against your clit.
“Yes. Fuck yes!”, you exclaimed as he filled you up completely, pushing you further against the wall again as he stilled his movements inside you.
“That’s my girl.”, he smiled contently, continuing thrusting into you again.
He had you right where he wanted and you both knew it.
“Now be a good girl and cum all over my cock, yeah?”, his fingers played with your clit, feeling your walls tighten around his cock once again in response.
You couldn’t see it but he was truly struggling not to cum before you because the feeling of you around his cock was a feeling like no other.
So he sped his fingers up, rubbing circles on your clit whilst your legs almost gave out under you.
He noticed you struggling to stand on your own quickly, his hand that had grabbed your neck now finding its way back to your hip, holding you in place.
“Wish you could see yourself right now: Taking my cock so well, such a slut for me.”, he grunted, knowing his words were all you needed to send you over the edge.
And he was right: A string of curse words fell from your mouth before he felt you clenching around him, riding out your high.
It took everything in him not to cum inside you right then when you were milking his cock so good, but tonight he wanted your mouth.
Wanted to see you on your knees for him.
When he felt you coming down from your high, he pulled out of you, turning you around to him. You already knew what he wanted, giving him a lazy kiss before getting on your knees.
His cock was painfully hard and dripping from your own wetness. Quickly you sucked him clean, tasting your own juices.
Then you started to take him into your mouth fully, bobbing your head up and down his shaft. Marcus’ hands gripped your hair, holding it back into a makeshift ponytail as he threw his head back at the feeling of your lips around his cock.
It was the most incredible feeling and a feeling Marcus didn’t ever want to miss again.
He looked back down at you, giving him the best head of his life all while looking so fucking beautiful.
“That’s it, darling.”, he praised, his dick twitching in your mouth as you moaned around him.
“Gonna fuck your face, yeah?”, he waited until you nodded before he started moving his hips to hit the very back of your throat with his tip.
Even though tears were falling from your eyes and your were already gagging you held on to his thighs, knowing this was all he needed to cum.
And just as you had predicted, he came only moments later, you swallowing his cum without hesitation.
“Fuck, baby…”, he cursed, running a hand through his hair.
When he came down from his high, he pulled you back up on your feet, holding your waist tightly because he knew your legs were still shaking.
He sent you a beaming, fucked out smile before kissing you in the softest way possible.
No dominance play, no lip biting, only his soft lips on yours and his hands around your waist. It made you melt right into his touch, leaning against him as your hands held on to his neck.
You squealed when he suddenly picked you up, wrapping your legs around his torso automatically.
With your help, he managed to navigate around your apartment and eventually find your bedroom to lay you down on your bed.
Just seeing the hungry look he gave you as he towered over you was enough to make you horny again, knowing exactly this wouldn’t be the last time you’d be screaming his name tonight.
The sun shone through your half-closed blinds, making you blink.
In your half asleep state you replayed yesterday’s events, mentally preparing yourself to wake up to an empty bed.
It would hurt like a bitch, that was for sure.
But you couldn’t really blame Marcus for leaving, because you had done the exact same thing to him.
And besides, you guys weren’t even together so he really had no reason to spend more time with you than necessary.
It wasn’t until you heard a deep grumbling sound behind you that you noticed the arm draped around your waist, pulling you close towards Marcus’ chest.
He had stayed?
Confused, you turned around in his arms to look at him.
He had been sleeping before, but thanks to your sudden movement he started blinking, too, until he could open his eyes fully.
“Good morning.”, he smiled when he saw you looking at him.
You worked your brain overtime but still didn’t understand the reasoning behind Marcus still laying here with you.
“Why are you still here?”
That was about all you could say at the moment.
Yesterday you had been so sure that this was going to be another one night stand with ties being cut between the two of you again the next morning.
Marcus’ smile dropped, an insecure look on his face now.
“Should I leave?”, he asked, a trace of disappointment in his voice, which confused you even more.
“No, don’t!”, quickly your hand came up to cup his face.
“I mean…er…you can leave.. if you want to.”, you added, just as insecure as Marcus, beginning to take your hand off his face again.
But Marcus held your hand in place, kissing the inside of your hand.
“No, no. I don’t want to..If that’s ok with you..”
You couldn’t help but laugh, making Marcus frown in confusion.
“My god, we really are stupid, aren’t we?”, your laughter made Marcus’ frown turn into a wide smile again.
He pulled you even closer into him, connecting your lips to a kiss.
And it just felt so right that you knew you couldn’t let him go. Not today, not ever again.
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How do you start writing fanfic? I kinda want to give it a go
oh, interesting question! the easy answer is "just start writing" - i have an idea and i just start writing it. but that's probably not useful for everyone! so here are some things that might help!
get an ao3 account. if you don't already have one, see if a friend has a free invite link, and if not, be prepared for the fact the queue is sometimes like two weeks long before you'll get your invite email. having an ao3 account will help you post your fanfics, but if you use bookmarks better than i do, will also help you keep track of what you're reading! speaking of...
figure out what kinds of stuff you like to read! this won't always be the same as the kind of thing you like to write, but it'll probably be similar, and reading things you like will help you write things you like because you'll pick up on some of the elements of what you read, whether you are trying to or not.
set realistic goals for yourself! your first fanfic will not be perfect, especially if you've never written anything before. it will, however, be something you're proud of, as long as you don't expect to be a genius the first time you write! in addition, i'd say "don't try to write a longfic as the first thing you write, write something shorter", because it's a lot easier to lose motivation while writing a long thing than it is while writing a short thing.
(genuinely, practice and read things. gotta emphasize those. also don't compare yourself to other people who have been writing for ten years if you've only been writing for two weeks, you aren't being fair to yourself then!)
then come up with an idea! i recommend choosing a character you read/watch a lot for who you write the first time; choose one of your favorite guys, yeah, but choose your favorite guy you watch all the time, not your favorite guy you only rarely see. this will also make writing them easier.
as for what idea to come up with... can't help you there, but that's where "learn what kind of stuff i like to read" and "practice" will start making it easier! if you have ever gone "man i wish x existed" or "that idea for an au sounded cool but there's nothing written for it" or "this part of canon that i wish had a bit more about it"... do that!
some people are better at planning than others. i, personally? not good at planning. i normally scrawl out, at best, a list of events that need to happen, and then change my mind halfway through writing. half the time though i'm like "i know where i want this to start, i know what i want this to do, i know how i want it to end, i will make up the rest as i go" and i just start writing. for some people, this is fine - don't force yourself to do mega planning if that'll stop you from actually writing.
however, if a LACK of plan stops you from writing, like i said, i personally find that planning by coming up with the major 'set pieces'/'moments' i want the fic to have and connecting those together helps. idk you may want to ask someone else how to plan if you don't know.
then, as i said before... just start writing! i find external arbitrary deadlines help motivate me, but those may stress you out, so you don't have to do that part. just writing is enough!
don't feel bad if you scrap stuff and start new stuff and don't finish stuff for a while - everyone does that.
i personally recommend waiting until you finish a thing to post it to ao3 because i lose motivation once a fic is posted and having the goal of "actually publish it" helps force me to finish what i'm writing but not everyone is this way; if you think posting and getting feedback is more helpful for you, do that!
uh, finally, ignore the numbers. like, okay, i'm not saying "i want attention and validation" is bad because yeah, i do want attention and validation. that's part of why i post things online. i DO mean that you should ignore the hit counter entirely, not compare the kudos counter to other fics, and cherish each comment, no matter how many of them there are, you know?
not sure how helpful this long list of advice is, but i hope it helps a little!
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Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls- Season 2, Episode 16, "There's The Rub", aka A Sheer Masterpiece of GilmoreDom, AKA The Gilmore Geller Mariano Trio, And Everything is Right With The World Until Forrester Shows Up, Part 4
I realized I’ve been spelling Dean's last name wrong all this time (it's only one R, not two) but I'm going to keep misspelling it on purpose because it's what he fucking deserves, frankly.
You can find parts 1-3 and all other episodes I've recapped in my pinned post.
Leggo.
All of the purest and most heartwarming episodes & scenes are the ones that take place outside of Shit's Hollow.
Emily and Lorelai at the spa. The Bangles Concert. The time the Dragonfly Inn crew+ Rory and Emily went to a drag show. That time Lane and Rory went to Madelyn & Louise's party and Lane danced with Henry. Various scenes that take place at the mall. Rory's trip to New York City to see Jess (MY FAVORITE EPISODE). The time Jess, his uncle and his stepfather took him to see some naked mud wrestling (ah, family bonding).
It does not get any better than this, people. Let us all bask in this warm, peaceful glow, the smell of french fries, the sound of gentle literary debate, the absence of Dean, Lorelai and all of the other loudmouths of Shit's Hollow, who are safely (if temporarily) contained in secondary locations. *breathes in* Ahhhhhh.
Person: Hey ThoughtsWhileWatching, what day of the week is it?
Me: Idk but I will never forget the weird way Milo held this can of salt
The fact that a friendship between Paris and Jess wasn't allowed to develop past this episode, in large part due to Dean Ruins Everything Forrester, was another one of AmyShermanPalladino's high crimes she needs to answer to.
(and let's not even start on how a nice little friendship based on a shared interest in music could have formed with Lane but AmyShermanPalladino decided to make Lane salty at Jess for no reason until literally the last episode before he splits from Rory.
I remember a scene in a later episode where Lane tries to run away to New York to meet up with her band but when she gets there she finds she's lost and in over her head I wanted her to get in contact with Jess so badly so she could have stayed with him or he could have helped her out.
Speaking of salty.
He's so frigging cute, my heart hurts. Ow.
The phone rings in the Gilly Girl household and this is one of the many times I wish I was still a GG virgin and didn't already know it was Dean the Serial Killer on the other end.
Someone who is already violating her boundaries by inviting himself over, knowing full well she wanted to spend the night alone, is totally going to double-super-duper respect-her-boundaries if she says no to this additional boundary violation. Asking her permission, that's rich.
And Dean the Abuser totally won't triple violate her boundaries when he finds out her circumstances changed and she ended up spending her time with someone other than him. This is going to go just swell.
Oh god, she's still wearing the Quarter on a String and it's even uglier than I could have imagined! You can finally see it well in the harsh light of the Gilmore Kitchen. I still need an extreme closeup.
D: I know you want to be alone but I just want to stop by for a minute and say hello. Actually, what I meant to say was, fuck you Rory, even though you told me repeatedly you wanted to be alone I'm coming over anyway because I'm an abusive piece of shit.
R: But you just said hi.
R: But I look like a mess. I'm not pretty. You wouldn't recognize me.
D: Fuck you I'm coming over.
Dean Forrester is a straight up horror movie villain or at the very least the villain in a bad Lifetime movie/cautionary tale about an abusive boyfriend. Gilmore Girls really is a 7 year long Lifetime movie.
(for the youngn's, Lifetime Network was a tv network primarily targeting women, something akin to the current Hallmark channel, and although they had their share of wholesome movies like HC they also produced dozens of low budget movies about men who stalked and abused women)
TWWGG's Memory: "Hey TWWGG, remember in 2020 when 4 years had passed since you had watched Gilmore Girls for the 1st time, and you wanted to watch it again during the pandemic, and halfway through the 1st season you said to your best friend, "boy howdy I'm glad Dean finally leaves after Jess and Rory start dating" and she said "I hate to tell you this but Dean is around untl the middle of season 5, and also Jess leaves at the end of season 3" and all the color drained from your face and your whole world crumbled to pieces?"
TWGGG's Memory Replying to Her Memory: Yes. I remember.
This "Dean not taking no for an answer" is terribly frightening and disturbing. My skin just prickled. When you take into account the fear and sheer desperation in Rory's voice it gets even worse. I feel like I should be putting trigger warnings on these scenes or something?
But what? But why? FUCK YOU DEAN FORRESTER!!
Thats true, you're not ruining her night. You're ruining her life and you're ruining everything you touch. The sidewalk you're walking on doesn't even want your smelly shoes walking on it. You are Dean the Ruiner. You make this show unwatchable. I hate you.
Look how proud of himself this motherfucker looks. "I just violated Rory's boundaries. I violated them so hard. I'm gonna barge into her house without her consent and yell at her in front of her friends. She’s gonna love me so much. I'm such a good Dean. Yeah."
Dean's holding a bag of something that we're supposed to believe is a pint of ice cream. But this is Dean so it's probably a human head on ice and not ice cream. "Ice cream" is just serial killer lingo for "human remains."
#gilmore girls#jess mariano#paris geller#anti dean forester#lorelai gilmore#emily gilmore#gilmore girls season 2#theres the rub#denise rewatches gilmore girls#experimenting with shorter posts#not cutting down on the content but just dividing them into more numerous parts#you may be reading Theres the Rub Part 12 at this rate#milo ventimiglia#if you are a sidewalk that was stepped on by Dean Forrester#you may be entitled to financial compensation
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Rectify | Bucky Barnes
Part 20/37 | Part Nineteen, Part Twenty One
Summary: I've lived every day for the past five years looking over my shoulder. I knew they'd come for me, it was inevitable. I was foolish to think I could outrun my past. It's followed me everywhere I go, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Never would I have anticipated that the shadows would lead me to the light.
Bucky Barnes x OC
Series Warnings: Discussion of human trafficking, alcohol consumption, graphic depictions of violence, sexual content, discussion of suicidal thoughts.
a/n: Hi everyone, thank you for checking this out, I appreciate any and all support! This series is also posted on Ao3 and Wattpad if you prefer those formats/platforms! This is a completed series, and it's going to take some time for me to transfer it to Tumblr, so please bear with me!
"It could regulate his brain functions and stop the programming before it can start."
I tape a piece of paper to wall and take a few steps back. Since the other day my mind map has grown exponentially. There are a lot more theories than we started with, most stemming from Tony's want to apply the gem's framework to one of his protocols. It's been an uphill battle trying to convince him that it's too soon to be trying to create an artificial intelligence on this scale when we don't even understand what we're dealing with fully. However, Tony has grown tired of hearing my protests. So now, all I can do is learn about what we're dealing with so that we're better equipped for Tony's desires.
As Tony mentioned the other day, Ultron has been a fantasy of his for a while and the gem has opened the doors. Basically, Tony wants to create an artificial intelligence protocol to protect Earth from predators originating in space, and to have a suit of armor around the world to respond quickly to any emerging threat. While Bruce was on my side to begin with, I can tell Tony's winning him over, the thought of creating something so grandiose is almost intoxicating to Bruce. I'm not against the idea of creating the protocol, I'm against experimenting with unknown technology on such a large scale.
Tony and Bruce left with each other for lunch today, leaving me in the lab alone. I look to the blue model that's been hovering in the air for the past two days. I've come to the conclusion that if the framework contained within the jewel was given a proper host that it may be possible a sentient being could be created. I've been studying the way that the matrix is working and I can tell that it's taking input from the environment and processing it, much like a brain.
In addition to that, I've also come up with another idea that I haven't disclosed to anyone yet. I walk back to my desk and pull out the drawer containing my notes I've been making while I'm in here alone. Since Tony and Bruce have been infatuated with their idea, it's been relatively easy to work on this by myself. I hear the elevator ding and see both Steve and Bucky walk over, I told them to come down so I can discuss what my idea.
"What is that?" Bucky asks as he passes the model.
"That is what is contained in the gem from Loki's scepter. In a nutshell it's a brain, it takes input and processes it." I say, saving them the long and scientific explanation. I don't have much time to get through my idea before Tony and Bruce come back. I spin the piece of paper around on the table and dive right into my idea.
"Tony and Bruce don't know I've been doing this, I'm trusting you two to keep it that way for now. I think I've come up with a solution that would make the Winter Soldier programming obsolete." I watch as Bucky's eyebrows scrunch together. Steve stares with a blank face, and I waste no time elaborating.
"So the Winter Soldier programming is too deeply conditioned for me to be able to safely remove it and still keep Bucky. This framework may allow me to apply an algorithm to negate the conditioning. If I can apply an algorithm that detects the trigger words, it can shut down the Winter Soldier conditioning." I say, feeling more confident that I'm on the right track.
"But how will you put that algorithm in my mind without more programming?" Bucky asks and I sigh, there is one downfall to my plan.
"In order to put the algorithm in your mind I'm going to have to create a medium that will target the dorsal anterior cingulate cortex, it's the only way. But it'll be painless and nothing like the Winter Soldier programming experience, I can promise you that." I say, knowing I still have some obstacles to overcome in order to make this plan work. They both stay silent for a moment and I feel butterflies start flittering in my stomach, what if they don't like the plan?
"If it means the Winter Soldier will be no more, I'm on board." Bucky says, and I release a breath I didn't realize I was holding. I look to Steve, who has a skeptical look on his face.
"How do you know it'll be painless?" He asks.
"Well the Winter Soldier conditioning was done using electricity over and over again, I plan on creating a laser that will transmit and implement this framework, it'll likely be a pinch at most. They use lasers all the time for surgery, I promise this isn't going to be an experiment." I try to put Steve's anxieties to rest, but I understand how he feels. He just wants to know his best friend will be alright.
"If Bucky's on board then so am I." Steve finally says and I smile, content that I got their approval.
"I just need to work out the finer details and then I'm going to ask Bruce to help me." I say, eager to continue this project.
It feels like an adrenaline rush, I'm so close to being able to redeem myself and save Bucky forever. Five years ago, or even just a few months ago, I never would have dreamed that I would find myself in this position. I was certain I'd never see Bucky again.
Although I had never really met Bucky, truly. I had met the hollow shell of him. Bucky in his entirety is so full of life and I never would have anticipated he was so lively and caring. I never would have thought he would make me blush or cause butterflies in my tummy. All of which inspires and drives me to finish this project. I put the paper back in the drawer and look at the clock on the wall.
"You guys should probably get going, they'll be back any time. I'll meet up with you two later." I say and urge them to leave. The last thing I need is Bruce and Tony asking why Steve and Bucky were down here. Steve nods and starts walking to the elevator, Bucky hangs back.
"I miss you up there, it's not the same. I'll see you later for dinner." He says and smiles before walking to the elevator. Truth be told, I miss him too. I find my thoughts wandering to him most of the time while I'm down here. I miss his goofy remarks and the way he smells, I miss the feeling of being around him, comfortable and secure. I've been on edge for days trying to fight Tony, I feel a constant stress headache in the base of my neck.
Not two minutes after they leave, Tony and Bruce come back down discussing something. They continue to talk, leaving me out of the conversation. Which means they're likely talking about the Ultron protocol. I take in a deep breath to keep myself from rolling my eyes and decide I've had enough.
"Listen, I understand you two are excited to work on the Ultron protocol, the idea is very exciting. I just don't think anything good can come of it until we understand the nature of how this will act when given a host." I say. I think I'm credible enough to speak on this. They stop speaking, looking slightly annoyed I interrupted them.
"What's the worst case scenario?" Tony asks.
"What if it doesn't work the way you intend for it to? We don't know the level of sentience it can achieve, which is why I think we should start small so that we can control it in case something unforeseen happens. Don't think I'm trying to stop the Ultron protocol, I just think we can do it in a smarter way." I say, hoping they'll hear me out this time.
"She has a point." Bruce sighs as he sides with me. It's about time he came back to his senses. After a moment of silence, Tony speaks up.
"Fine. We'll start on small hosts and work our way up." I smile, happy that he's agreed to pause the Ultron program and start small.
The three of us spend the afternoon building hosts that we can apply the framework to. We're going for a humanoid type of vessel since it seems to be operating closely to the mind of a human. Tony blares his music as we work but I can't help but tune it out as I look forward to dinner tonight and being near Bucky.
As evening approaches, we've each created four hosts, equaling twelve in total which I think is more than enough for starter research. I place my tools on the table and watch as Tony steps away from his work station.
"I think we should have a party. You know, it's been too long since we had a party Bruce. We can dedicate it to the Ultron protocol." While I like the idea, I'm uneasy about how big a Stark party will be.
"We keep it small, we don't need any curious people snooping around." Bruce says, and I agree with him.
"Let's set it for the day after tomorrow, give us some time to prepare." Tony says and claps his hands together. He then turns and walks out of the lab, leaving Bruce and I alone.
"What do you think of all this?" I ask, not having a moment alone with Bruce since we shared taquitos. He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head.
"I mean, I want to create the Ultron protocol, having the Iron Legion operate independently would be a huge success. But I understand what you're saying, and I agree. We just don't know how this is actually going to operate when given a host. Tony was saying he wants to integrate Jarvis into the framework and see how it can operate or evolve from that." Bruce says and I raise my eyebrows,
"That's the first I'm hearing of this. But it may not be a bad idea. We already know what Jarvis is, it would be better than just giving the framework nothing. Then we could measure how it evolves and responds to stimulus" I say, not hating the idea. I chew on my bottom lip, debating whether or not I should tell Bruce about my plan.
"Bruce, can you keep a secret for a little bit?" I ask, deciding to just run it by him.
"Sure, what's going on?" He asks. I pull out the paper and hand it to him.
"I was thinking I can use this to help eliminate the Winter Soldier programming." I say and give him time to read over the paper.
"Well how does the Soldier programming work?" He asks.
"In a nutshell, when the trigger words are said in a specific sequence it causes a deeply conditioned response in his brain. First, the dorsal anterior cingulate begins to go dormant, or become less active. Then, the insula and dorsolateral prefrontal cortex begin connecting with each other overtime, these parts of the brain helps someone process and control their body. The programming takes this over and fires the synapses very quickly making it difficult for the brain to keep up with itself and be able to correct the movements, it makes someone lose control over their body essentially. Lastly, the programming causes a reduction of connection between the dorsolateral prefrontal cortex and the medial prefrontal, along with posterior cingulate cortex areas of the brain. This reduction in connection causes a person to become disconnected from their actions, they become less aware of what they're doing. If I can find a way to implement an algorithm to the framework and put it in his mind I think it would negate the Winter Soldier programming. It would recognize the trigger words and stop the Soldier programming from being successful, it could regulate his brain functions and stop the programming before it can start." I give Bruce the simplest but complete answer as to how the Winter Soldier programming works.
"That was in a nutshell?" He jokes,
"Yeah, it's about the simplest answer I could give you." I smirk, happy he's not upset with my thought. He looks over the paper again.
"I think it could work. Give us some time to see how this actually works and I'll help you if you need me to. I won't tell Tony, I know how he'll take it." Bruce smiles and hands the paper back to me. I tuck the paper back in the drawer.
"Thank you, Bruce." I say, appreciative that he's willing to keep it secret and help me. This makes three things that I'm keeping from Tony.
We walk out of the lab together and as we step onto the main floor I smell something absolutely delectable. I make my way to the kitchen quickly, my stomach rumbling from the lack of food. I see boxes of food on the counter.
"I don't know how to cook so I thought we'd just order." Steve says. I nod my head,
"That is fine with me." I grab a slice of pizza and sit beside Bucky, who's on the couch adjacent to the kitchen area, in front of the fake fireplace. I nudge his arm with a smile, happy to see him.
"Miss me?" I ask, knowing we both have missed each other. He meets my eyes and nods his head,
"I always miss you. It's boring without you around. Steve and I can only throw a ball for so long."
"Well Tony is throwing a party the day after tomorrow, maybe you two can spend tomorrow preparing for that?" I suggest, not knowing what Tony considers a small party. Knowing him it's probably around one hundred people or so.
"A party?" Bucky asks.
"That's what he said." I take a bite of the pizza.
"I haven't partied since the 1940s." Bucky smiles, liking the idea.
"I think this might be a little different than a 1940s party." I say with a small laugh. I'm sure he'll adapt just fine, he seems to be a natural socialite when he wants to be.
"Maybe we'll go dancing again." He smiles.
"We can definitely go dancing again." I say. The dance we shared seems like it happened ages ago. I finish off my slice of pizza and debate on getting another, it's been a long day in the lab. I go to get another, deciding that I deserve it after putting up with Tony's attitude all day.
"Are you going back to the lab tonight?" Bucky asks.
"No, I think we all need a little break. We're picking up in the morning. Can we have a relaxing night?" I ask, looking over to him, his eyes light up.
"Yeah, of course. We can find a movie or something." He says, it sounds like a lovely idea. We both take the elevator up to the second floor and I go to my room,
"I'll be right over, I'm going to get into something more comfortable." I walk into my room and put on a pair of cotton shorts and a t-shirt that have been laying on the floor for a few days. I put some socks on and go over to Bucky's room. He's standing in front of the tv with a remote in his hand, a confused look on his face.
"How do you get the movies?" He asks, looking between the remote and the tv. I grab the remote from him and show him how to pull up Netflix.
"It's okay, sometimes it takes the elderly a while to understand new technology." I tease him as I give the remote back.
"Wow that hurt my feelings." He says, a smile on his face. I've missed joking around with him.
"Now please pick a movie in color, I don't want the black and white oldies." I say, going to sit on the right side of his bed.
"Now you're taking it too far." He sends me an unamused look, causing me to laugh.
We settle on a comedy movie and Bucky sits on the other side of his bed. I stretch my arms as the beginning credits start and feel tension in my shoulders. I lean my head to the side and rub the muscle.
"Come here, let me." Bucky says, motioning for me to sit in front of him on the bed. I scoot over so that I'm sitting in front of him, between his outstretched legs, and I feel a warm hand on my right shoulder, a cold one on my left. The difference in temperature makes me shiver, but it feels nice. Bucky works out the tension in my shoulders, his hands working slowly yet deliberately. I feel my eyes becoming heavy the more relaxed I become.
I feel his hands leave my shoulders and he pulls me back so that I'm resting against his chest. My head rests on his right shoulder, I feel his arms envelope me in a hug. I keep my eyes closed, enjoying the comfort I've longed for. If I weren't so tired I'd probably move and say something about the boundary, but I'm at peace, this feels right.
The movie plays in the background and becomes white noise for me. I feel Bucky's lips on my left temple, placing a gentle kiss. I feel my face become warm, I don't protest. I drift asleep in Bucky's strong arms, savoring the tranquility.
#bucky fanfic#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#bruce banner#bucky#tony stark#bucky barnes x oc#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes#marvel#hydra
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Download & Streaming : Audio Archive : Internet Archive
This is why you suck.
Why don't you just kill off all the talent and everything "talent" does to promote itself outside of rap, hip-hop, and r&b.
Fine fuck you then. I won't even listen, much less buy your Napster mp3s.
Because you want to be a jew, courtesy of James Hetfield and Metallica.
"It's all for the music."
Which is why they are cutting their own hand off and shooting themselves in the foot when it comes to promotion, radio airplay, goodwill towards the fans who show up and buy tickets and clothing,
in addition to their actual albums where the record company gets paid by the retailers per album or CD before it even reaches the customers on the shelves, they get paid either way when the stores buy their inventory to stock their shelves.
or media exposure.
Thanks "Jaymz".
Fucking greed, fighting over a 50 cent Napster song on digital media with no physical existence.
Thirty second samples. My into isnt even done yet on 90% of these songs.
It wasn't that way before. I found those albums uploaded to a public library archive that states their business for being there.
Less than one month later, things have changed, and turned them into a pay toilet at Pacific Beach, San Diego.
I could just go to Pirate Bay and go on a download festival, but I don't.
But how many millions of other people do? Pirate Bay got mass advertising. I don't tell anyone where I find my stuff. I'm here to listen to what is already mine, on a medium other than some piece of shit youtube music channel's presets on a cellphone speaker cuck-cage, with advertisement interruptions between songs.
money is all your ears hear, and suddenly you listen.
Probably explains why I had to redundancy my self on the last paragraph about who gets the MONEY and where.
Poor baby tumblr. Still playing games. Drops their dick on post upload until I walk away to my side blog, then it "magically" uploads.
To symbolically make me look back to a pillar of salt to see a city called Sodom and Gemmorah out of the Bible burned and destroyed by God because it was infested with immorality, incest and bestiality.
To fix a punctuation mark or PERIOD when I proofread my own work. ( . - LOOKS LIKE A "DOT" HUH, COMEDIAN)
But anyway, to finish what I was saying before the brat in the frat barges in on me fucking his mom,...
Maybe this is why some deserving full time career musicians never get their time in the sun.
Too busy being kept down by the man.
Is it because they are "black" too?
Why should I reward you for disrespecting my privacy and shitting on the quality of my life for years,
by promoting your band or your music through me?
Fucking greed.
Maybe I have all their albums somewhere.
And don't want to have to repurchase them to listen through some cuck cage cell phone speaker.
I should have the right to beat the fuck out of you for making me fight over everything that already belongs to me tooth and nail. Nigger.
This is when I stop going anywhere on the internet, why should i let you follow my leader anywhere. all you do is use me as a reference point or crosshairs for you to destroy things I take interest in or take a liking to, "friend", Tattletale.
You follow me around and pull this kind of shit everywhere I go.
Not my friends, not my coworkers, not the people who have wronged me beyond a petty ass 50 cent digital mp3 that the musicians were already paid for.
Just there to burn my bridges and keep me as your prisoner in confinement under your stare in a human-guinea-pig science experiment cage.
I'm not here for you to follow me around and bust me or my friends, cunt. While you protect the cocaine and meth users/dealers at the same time.
You use me to find what you want or what you get rewarded for, arrest noone that preys upon me, and burn my bridges and everything else in my life.
It's not like I get a reward for you blowing the whistle, stalker. You burn ALL my bridges I put effort into building.
Would you like some tit for tat?
Fine, Fucking let the music die and be lost forever in the clouds of digital mp3 bullshit, you aren't doing anything to preserve your own history.
Just letting the millennial snowflakes rewrite everything according to their black dick fetish liking, for who to "rise up" and prosper and have their time in the sun.
#suck my fucking dick Steve. sick of your “help” being broken until i complain#so phil the uncle buttfuck can play hero and be praised by you while you cunt-in-you to never PRAISE ME. NIGGER.#you could just leave it the fuck alone and “all would be healed” but you don't#what does the bible say about sinning against your own family members?
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FMP Conclusion
Sunday 7th April 2023
This blog post includes a comprehensive reflection of my final product.
My final major project at university is a time I will never forget. It was one of the hardest times of my life. My Grandmother, Brenda, and I were extremely close. She'd be the one I'd phone on my walk back from uni, telling her about my day even though she didn't have a clue what I was doing. Losing her was shocking but I'm so glad that I had the relationship that I did with her. I could blab on about how wonderful my Gran was all day because of how much I really did love her. So, basing my project on her and the family home that I lost with her, was one of the most perfect ways to grieve and express myself creatively.
From the start of this project, when I decided that I wanted to go down this route, I knew it needed to be just right. Collecting her belongings from the house made me realise that these objects were the only things I had left from her other than my memories. This sparked a creative fire inside of me, and I couldn't wait to get started experimenting.
The process of this project took endless turns. From photographs, printing, exposing, and photoshopping to mapping the items- I frankly do feel as if I tried every route I could. But it wasn't easy to come up with these experimentations. A lot of thought, reflection and emotional thinking went into all of my experimentations which I believe makes my experimentations just as strong as my final outcome. What I enjoy about the other elements I produced as a result of my project, is they're mine. The polyprint sheets I created out of my Granny's peals I think are a beautiful piece, and one I will frame and keep in my home in the future; adding another reason why this project means so much to me. There were complications in my projects, there were days where I was in a rut and did not know how to progress. But, I got out of them purely by experimenting and pushing. I think about what my project would have been if I hadn't thought of that one idea, or went down a completely different path.
I feel as if I worked well this term. Unlike other terms, I have been consistently motivated to continue moving forward. This could be down to the context of my project or my maturing as a designer. Managing and organising this project has been the best since I started uni. My Excel organisation document meant that I could see my daily to-do lists, map out my weeks and balance other projects on the side. The list also held me accountable for not finishing any work, meaning I was more motivated to keep pushing to get everything done that needed to be completed. Having a weekly roundup helped me reflect on how I had been working and what I could do better. My sketchbooks have been a great addition to my workflow. Ditching the lined notebooks to a blank page allowed me to stop being so particular about being neat and to just do it. These organisation and documentation changes will come with me as I leave university.
What was refreshing about this project was the amount of physicality there was. Apart from creating the house key, type and grid layouts for my cards and digital measurements, everything else I did was physical. As I've mentioned previously, I think this is extremely well suited to my project because of how much of a creative child I was, constantly getting my hands messy in art projects -way before I even comprehended what a computer was! My future is looking promising towards working for an agency, and in a digital era, I'm sure physical projects won't come up o often. Therefore, I'm so glad that my major project took such a physical approach.
My final outcome, on a personal level, I am very proud of. It is a representation and conclusion of the past few months, and I am so pleased to see it all come together. But, from a constructive perspective, some points need improving for it to be exhibited in the Grad Show. Such as the inside keys, for example, they could have done with tweaking to be cleaner. The vinyl on the outside of my box is very precise and modern, and I feel when you open the box, the inside box lid lets that feeling down. The vinyl isn't straight on my box, and to improve on this I intend to screenprint it in the future. My cards are a little hard to get out of my box, and some finger holes would have been a nice touch. Some of my prints, I worry, are too faded or not interesting enough to be as large as they are on A5. Using cyanotypes was a bit of a nightmare, but to improve in the future (and whist the proper sun is out!) I intend to redo my cyanotypes to make the prints more visually captivating. All of these things don't change the way I judge my project. I am still so satisfied with the outcome and I hope that I made my Grandparents feel proud of what I achieved.
This project is one I will always remember. Not only from an emotional level but from a perspective of how amazing my final term has been. I value the course and everybody I have met on it, so for this to be my last project is saddening. However, I am looking forward to the next stage of my life and I'm grateful for what Vis Com has taught me for me to be in this position.
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A Change of Scenery + Going Off Plan
Well, after a week-long COVID delay, we finally made it to New England! Though the ride there wasn't without incident. Our SeaSucker roof rack (emphasis on the SUCK) failed, and our biked nearly flew off the car going 70 miles per hour on 95. Nearly, meaning they were holding on by a SINGLE suction cup.
Fortunately, we made it to Cape Cod with our bikes in one piece.
Cape Cod. What a beautiful place to train. Besides the MUCH cooler weather (we had high 60s to mid-70s most days), there's kettle ponds to swim in, ocean sides to ride along, and it turns out - hills to train on!
The Run: We started out the week with our long run - 19 miles to be exact! Which we finished in just under 3 hours. Not speedy, but super solid for a fairly hilly course. I remember when marathon training, 20 miles was the highest I went, about 3 weeks before race day. So, I was quite surprised when I looked to see that the scheduled 2:40 run - nearly 6 weeks before race day! - is the longest run on my schedule. From here, it has me doing two bricks a week - a short brick (1 hr bike, 20 minute run) and a long one (4 hr bike, 1:45 minute run). I'm super uncomfortable with the idea of not running more than 13 miles the last 6 weeks, so I'll definitely be adding at least one or two more long runs in the schedule.
The Bike: Though I *really* wanted to get two bikes in during our time there, our rack mishap had other plans. We discovered, too late, that in the process of disassembling my bike to load it in the car we'd lost a tiny nut that was critical to keeping the seat post in place. Though we tried to Macgyver it, ultimately it wouldn't stay up - and it wasn't worth risking injuring my knees or back riding in the wrong position - so we missed a ride this week.
The Swim: Since we had access to a beautiful kettle pond rather than a pool, we replaced the speed swim with a second full Iron distance open water swim. I managed to do the full 4,300 in less than 90 minutes, which I'm really happy with!
The (super) BRICK: The other *BIG* milestone we hit this week - my first triple digit / double digit super brick! My training plan doesn't have me doing any long bricks until early September, but it felt really important to me to be working out the kinks now. Of course we picked the hottest day of our entire trip - but fortunately, that still only topped out at about 85 degrees. Our 100 mile ride (my first century in years!) took us on a gorgeous tour of almost the entire Cape, from a loop around Provincetown to the Cape Cod Rail Trail and everywhere in between. I did a much better job staying hydrated and practicing race day nutrition, and it showed! I was shocked to find that when we set out to run, I still had my legs! Even on the hills, everything felt pretty good. Courtney, however, was struggling to breath and keep his heart rate down, so we split ways at about 2.5 miles and he went home and I went on. I was careful to stay hydrated, keep my heart rate low, and keep my body cool (stopping at a store to buy water to dump on my head) - and for the most part it worked! I even managed an entirely up hill mile 8. However, come mile 9.65 running up the final hill I had a hard time breathing. It almost felt like an exercise induced asthma attack. I stopped and walked for a minute before finishing out the final 1/3 mile - but when I stopped it once again was really hard to breath. It was borderline scary really, because this isn't something I usually experience. Well, we discovered that in addition to picking the hottest day of the week, we picked a day with an air quality advisory due to ozone suggesting that folks limit the intensity and duration of their outdoor activity. Oops! I'm really hoping that was the cause of our breathing issues.
Overall, it was a really strong week - which we were still able to balance out with a raucous Medusa pool party, dinners with friends and family, and a super fun Carnival parade!
And with that, I'm in my final rest week before two more "peak weeks" - and then the taper!
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Hey op, I was wondering if you could give me some advice? High school senior here and I have no idea what to do with my life. Is accounting really as painfully boring as it's reputed to be? I'm a perfectionist and a good student and I feel like that might be helpful, but I've also nearly fallen asleep many times in math class. (I'm more a science and humanities person.) Is accounting actually as tedious and unfulfilling as people say? Do you like your job? Do you have any career advice??
Oh, no, advice ...
I've been sitting on this because I wanted to do your ask justice, and then it ended up extremely long - I'm apparently constitutionally incapable of giving advice without giving all the advice, just to be thorough. I started with my impressions of the accounting field and why I went into it (in case any of that resonates with you either way) and made it all the way to a probably-too-abstract meditation/ramble on careers, work, and purpose. Since I'm just a dumb 27 year old who is not entirely successful (yet) in any area of my life, you should maybe (definitely) take everything below with a grain of salt. But here are some things I think I've learned:
I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life either. I went to an engineering high school, but decided it wasn't for me because I didn't really care about it and wasn't spending my spare time tinkering with robots like some of my classmates. I almost majored in physics, but switched to accounting at the last second because I decided I probably didn't want to spend my whole life in a basement fine-tuning lasers.
I went into accounting because I thought math was boring but I was good at it, and I figured accounting might straddle the math-type-brain with the people-stories-humanities things that were more interesting to me. This is somewhat true - financial accounting is not math (thank goodness), but someone who is good at one will probably be good at the other and it is quite satisfying the way balance sheets always balance. (You can get into more math-and-statistics-intensive applications, but base accounting is just adding and Microsoft Excel, which is unironically one of the greatest tools humankind has ever created. How you feel about that opinion might tell you a lot about whether it's the right field for you lol.)
'Accounting' is really (at least) three entirely different types of job:
‘Industry accounting’ is the accountants who work for a business and keep track of its numbers. They record everything, analyze the data, and organize it into reports called financial statements, which are then given to the CEO, the board of directors, the shareholders, etc. to tell them how the company is doing.
‘Public accounting’ (as in Certified Public Accountant) has two main subclasses:
Audit, where you get hired by businesses to independently examine their financial statements and provide some verification that the managers who prepared them aren't lying or mistaken.
Tax, where you do taxes for people and businesses.
(+1: If you're a tech-savvy person, there's a huge amount of potential for crossover into technology work - data science, financial software, etc, etc. Though IT work has its own delights and frustrations.)
All three flavors of accounting require not only technical accounting knowledge but also at least some degree of business acumen to be truly good at (you'll develop this over time; I barely have any, the partners at my firm are very astute), and any of them can can put you literally anywhere, because everyone in every industry and lots of individuals need an accountant. (There are cross-state licensing issues that can affect how literal 'anywhere' is, so if you want to work somewhere specific that's a good thing to research in advance when planning out your degree, but even these are for the most part eminently surmountable). So particularly on the public side of things, it's a field that can expose you to a lot of different people and situations, and that's interesting. I like getting a glimpse of someone's life when I prepare their tax return. (I think I prefer individual returns to business returns for this reason, among others.) And if you're someone who likes business, it is a fantastic field from which to study it and could position you well for a more generally-businessy position down the road. (I have frankly found that I ... do not, so much. So keep that in mind when considering the rest of this opinion piece.)
All three types of accounting are, by their very nature, repetitive, in the sense that they're cyclical - you do the journal entries and close the books on one month, or you do a hundred tax returns and get through tax season, and then you do it all over again. Accounting isn't a field that really makes or does things - it measures what other people are doing, over and over and over again. It's a keeping-the-lights-on-and-wheels-running kind of field. It matters, because all three of those functions above are important in the context of our current economic arrangement. But some people are going to be happy doing that and some people are not.
Public accounting also has pretty punishing work schedules during crunch times. I can attest to that for tax (my current field), and have heard it's at least partially true for audit. This can be a good thing in some ways (I happen to like it), because it means there are some relaxed times as well - but again, some people are going to like the up-and-down rhythm and some people are going to want something more steady. (If you find this one isn't for you, you can always leave public accounting after a year or two and go into industry - that's what many people's planned trajectories are from the get go.)
In all three corners it's a field about developing expertise. You're doing something complicated for people which they don't know how to do for themselves, and you do sometimes get to come up with crucial information and/or creative solutions to help them. And in the broad societal scopes of public policy and the health of the economy, people having that expertise - in tax and its ramifications, in business, in financial accounting, in principled and accurate auditing - is important.
In a world where most of us regrettably have to do something for money, accounting is a pretty okay thing to do, and it pays money.
Being in the workforce for a few years has made me come to imagine a lot of things are tedious in some ways and important and interesting in others. Our incredibly complex global civilization goes because different people become experts in the minute, tedious details of their own different things, and then they all work in their own corners of the huge, infinitely complex machine. Tinkering with robots and living in laser-filled-basements are not that dissimilar to reading discourse over the minutia of the United States tax code. (These are all examples from relatively technical/'professional' career areas, because I don't really have first-hand experience with anything else (yet) - but maybe someone will chime in on that front in the notes.)
The extremely good news, which I can't emphasize enough, is that you're going to have a lot of opportunities to pivot, or change direction, or try different things, to eventually find the thing that at worst you don't mind becoming something of an expert in, and at best you absolutely love. I've already had three extremely different jobs, all of which have been very informative in terms of what I Do and Do Not like. It's surprising how often that doesn't line up with what I expected when I was younger. You might of course have a different experience - the point is you have plenty of time to experiment and find out.
But if I don't LOVE my career, isn't that terrible? Time for a confession, or something: I've always been an achiever-type, and in my youthier youth I would've answered the above question 'yes' - but in my first few of years out of school, whenever anyone would ask me what my future plans were, my answer was always '... I don't know? Try to get promoted, I guess?' I was really leaning on the external validation of what a 'good career' was without running that past whether it was what I wanted to achieve with my life. And over time that had a noticeable effect on my wellbeing. You're right that perfectionism will help, no matter what you go into - but you should be careful to keep an eye on whether it's really mostly helping your boss, and whether it's doing it at your expense. Don't get me wrong, this will make you a fantastic and therefore valued (read: employed) employee. Just be wary of it getting out of hand. (You might find you need to practice figuring out how and when to prioritize yourself even if it's inconvenient for others. I'm still practicing that now.)
Anyway, after a lot of reflection, I began to refine my idea of my capital-P Purpose, and it has little to do with working in a shiny fancy office or having a successful-sounding job title next to a well-known employer's name or really anything to do with accounting. Those things were only superficially rewarding. I'm working on rearranging my life to abandon some of the more costly ones to make room for my Purpose as I've come to understand it, and my license keeps me in overpriced coffees and, like, a house. It means even an occasionally disastrous person like me is doing reasonably okay (so far).
Some people love careers like that, though. Some people love living in basements full of lasers. It's really so individual. For me, it became clearer when I connected the dots between the things I kept coming back to time and time again, even in my most difficult moments, even years or decades apart. For other people, it might be very different.
But at the moment, you may not have all the information you need yet to make determinations about Purpose. Why would you, you're a baby; heck, so am I. It might evolve over the whole course your life. My main advice for you would be to just try something, or several things - whatever seems most interesting, or most practical, or ideally both! - and see how it goes. Like I said above, that will give you experiences instead of guesses, which will help you know. And you really do have so much time to work with. The most important thing, the thing I would tell my younger self, is to make sure that every so often you pause and honestly look. How do I feel about what I'm doing? Does it feel good because I like it, or because other people like it? Am I actually interested in building on and using the things I'm learning? Do I have a plan for the future? Is there anything about it I want to change, or add, or that doesn't actually matter to me? (And perhaps "What would I be doing right now/want to be doing in five years if I didn't have to make money?", because that might give you hints to what you want your money-career - if it isn't the same thing as your Purpose - to give you room for.)
Did I mention I think it's very individual? I think it's very individual. I invite anyone to add their own numerous-cents to this post - alternate takes on the accounting field (do you love it passionately? please tell this person why), additional career or life advice, etc. I'm just one person who's walking my one narrow path through the world with its particular terrain. Everyone's is going to look different.
P.S. Ask a Manager is imo an indispensable resource for getting a job - resumes, cover letters, interviews. Literally it has gotten me all my jobs.
It also gives a lot of great advice about what to consider in an employer and potential red flags - and I can attest that the culture of the company you work for and the management skills and style of your supervisor(s) matter more than almost anything when it comes to your day-to-day happiness in a job. This is part personal fit, part objective competence. It's not the end of the world if you take a misstep here either - it's something you figure out, just like everything else. You can do almost anything for a year - and you are NOT COMPELLED to even stay that long if it's really not working out.
P.P.P.S - and this is way out there ... I was exceptionally good at both reading/English and math as a young person - and it’s interesting that when that’s true, the careers people throw at you are all STEM-related. It’s almost as if people are predisposed to thinking STEM fields are more important, and that smart people belong in them. I have come to feel strongly that isn’t the case.
A lot of people (at least in my western/US culture) feel the humanities are an afterthought, but when I think about it, I think there are and have always been two main sources of human suffering in the world: nature and its limitations (hunger, health and disease, weather and environment, etc.) and other humans (war, murder, racism/sexism/all oppression and hatred, conquering and imperialism, poverty/socioeconomic inequality, and also elements of the way societies are organized that affect hunger, and health and disease, and weather and the environment, and so on).
STEM work is hugely important to making improvements in the first category, and helps with the second (it gives us the internet and weapons to defend ourselves from evil people who want to destroy us, for example). But a lot of the fundamental root issues in that second category are in the sphere of culture and the humanities - law and politics, sure, but those are derived from history, sociology and psychology, literature, cultural studies, philosophy, ethics, education, journalism, literature and the arts and pop culture (which informs and is informed by all of the above). The world needs smart people in those fields as well as STEM and business.
STEM fields often offer more money, or more certain money. Business fields offer sometimes significantly more. That’s a practical element to consider. And if you like a STEM thing, or a business thing, and want to go into it, please do and do fabulous things with it. All I mean is that if you find yourself considering a career in a humanities field, don’t be dissuaded only because people seem to think you’re too smart for it and would be better off doing something else.
#replies#accounting#careers#personal#p.p.s. if it somehow doesn't go without saying#my bullet-point AU is a highly cariacturized version of the accounting field#much the same way every TV show or movie set in a high school is a highly cariacturized version of high school#if any word of this has been helpful to you i'm glad#if not i apologize lol#you're going to have a great future!#there have been some very rough patches in my twenties and regardless i would never go back and redo high school if given the chance#it was fine it's just that even with all the tribulations#becoming a progressively adultier adult is better#if you have any follow up questions or like#ever need excel pointers lol#you know where to find me!#(seriously excel is legitimately delightful getting to do powerful things with it sometimes is literally my favorite part of my job)#(in another life I might've been a software developer)#(that life might be this life five or ten years from now who knows!)#(i'm going to stop and post this before I keep coming up with additional pieces of advice this is already so long)#(oh gosh i added another one it must end)#(also the read more got messed up and I can't fix it I do not know why)#(thereby validating that I am only a dumb 27 year old whose opinions you should not take very seriously)
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SR Deuce Spade New Year's Attire Personal Story: Part 1
"Ready, set... Go!"
Part 1 (Part 2)
[Mister S's Mystery Shop]
Deuce: Thank you very much for your patronage! Please come again!
Kalim: …Whew! We somehow got through today with no issues!
Deuce: Alright, then let's close up shop and go home.
Sam: Ｈｅｙ, Little Imps! Before you go home, let's have a little strategy meeting.
Deuce: Strategy meeting…?
Sam: Yup. Thanks to the two of you, Ｓａｍ’ｓ Ｎｅｗ Ｙｅａｒ Ｓａｌｅ was a huge success.
Sam: Only, it would be a shame to be satisfied with just this much.
Sam: I'd like to have more of the Little Imps come to visit our little shop.
Sam: So that's why… I'd like it for you both to present an idea that could attract more customers.
Kalim: Us? Isn't that something you'd better at doing, Sam?
Sam: I thought that since the two of you can think from a student's perspective, maybe you'd be able to come up with something that could hook your classmates better.
Sam: And there's no need for it to be a well thought-out idea from the get go.
Sam: Even a small inkling of an idea from a chat you've had recently or something from your memories.
Deuce: Something from my memories…
Deuce: Ah, then maybe…!
[Main Street]
―A few days later…
[background chatter]
Ace: Wow～ It's a super long line, as usual.
Epel: There's a lot more people than there was last time I came. I wonder if they're all here for the "All-you-can-grab for 500 madol Candy Corner"?
Heartslabyul Student: Did you hear? Apparently, there was a guy who was able to stuff their bag with over 40 pieces of candy. I'll do the same―!
Epel: That's amazing! Let's hurry and try it too!
Deuce: The waiting line for the all-you-can-grab candy is over here! If you are hoping for Mystery Bags, please head to the other line!
Deuce: Oh, if it isn't Ace and Epel. You guys came again.
Epel: Yeah, I wanted to try out the sweets challenge.
Epel: By the way, Deuce-kun, what is that box in your hands? It seems kinda heavy…
Deuce: In addition to keeping the different lines in order, I'm also selling hot drinks. Especially because when the lines get long, some people end up waiting for over an hour.
Deuce: And it's super tough to wait forever like this in this cold weather. Also, I'm handing these out to those waiting in line to stave off boredom.
Ace: What is this, a leaflet?
Deuce: It's a summary of our special on-sale items. If you look over this now, then you won't find yourself missing any of our best bargains.
Octavinelle Student: Excuse me! I'd like a drink.
Deuce: Of course, I'll be right there!
Deuce: Alright, you two, I'll talk to you later!
Ace: …Doesn't it kinda seem like somehow he's become a really experienced salesman?
Epel: Yeah. He seems really upbeat and it looks like he's having fun…
[Mister S's Mystery Shop]
Ace: Haaah, we finally were able to enter the shop… It seriously took about an hour.
Epel: Ace-kun, isn't that it over there? The all-you-can-grab candy corner.
Ace: Ooh, looks like everyone's really lively over there.
Deuce: Oh, you two. Looks like you guys finally made it inside.
Ace: Huh? Weren't you just outside minding the lines earlier?
Epel: You were handing out leaflets and selling drinks too, this job must be pretty difficult despite it just being a seasonal part-time job.
Deuce: I guess. Right now, I've left the Mystery Bag sales to Asim-senpai, and I'm focusing on this.
Epel: Ah, the highest record of the amount of candy snagged is posted over there… Eh, 43 pieces!?
Ace: Is that so～ Then I'll aim for 50. The bag should be big enough, so I bet I can do that much!
Deuce: Heh, I wonder?
Deuce: Alright, then first, I'll take your 500 madol. Okay, let's begin. Ready, set… Go!
Deuce: ….And, stop!
Deuce: The score is… Ace got 30 pieces, and Epel got 22.
Ace: MAN, THAT'S DEFINITELY IMPOSSIBLE!!!!
Deuce: What is?
Ace: That top record, duh!
Ace: Even with 30 pieces this bag is already so full, so 43 is just…
Ace: …Aah, I get it. I see what it is. You just inflated the number to try to get everyone hooked.
Deuce: What!? No, that record is…
Ace: Haaah, suddenly I'm already exhausted this new year. Eh, I guess since I got what I came here for, I'll just head back. Bye～
Deuce: Hey! …Ugh, fricken Ace. He just left without listening to a word I have to say.
Epel: I also don't know how I feel about you exaggerating the record. I was so excited to try to break the record too…
Deuce: Wha…! Epel, you don't believe me either!?
Deuce: …Fine. If you're going to say that… I'll teach you the secret!
Epel: Eh…?
Part 1 (Part 2)
Requested by @cloverkisser.
#twisted wonderland#twst#deuce spade#kalim al-asim#epel felmier#ace trappola#twst sam#twst deuce#twst kalim#twst epel#twst ace#twst translation
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Morimyu in Classical reference
So, as for the fact that music in Morimyu Op. 3 resembles classical music in both progression and musical technicality, it's interesting how it's possible to keep coming up with different interpretations after re-watching the musical again and again.
I've made a thread on twitter about this before, but 1) word limitations and thread will never be enough to list all that I have to say lol 2) I'd prefer to have a fuller version noted down, especially one that I can edit and keep coming back over and over again when ever I come up with something new.
Either way, I am still (lol) not a pro in music theory and music history as well. All that is written here are based on my very very basic knowledge on music as well as something that I've picked up (and discussed) with my friends after watching Op. 3.
What's the point of this?
Why is it important? Lol I always need this to keep myself from writing off-topic but anyways. Why do the music sound good (except for the fact that because it does lol), and what do they represent? Surely there must be, and there always are, other things that are implied not only through the lyrics but also the music, and the flow in general.
Apart from the lyrics and the lines, it's also quite interesting to have a close look at the music - melody and harmony itself - to see how they portray the stories.
Most importantly, the continuality. How did Morimyu manage to insert so many songs and still managing to connect them as a whole? And how did they use music to go beyond what's on the pages?
That's the most important thing about musicals - beyond the pages. We don't see stage or anime doing so very often, as they mainly focus on what's already there, bringing them to life as close as possible to how we imagine things might happen.
As for musical, they have the music. They have the arias and the songs. At some point, a character starts singing, and other characters followed suit. They have their very unique way of expressing the plot, and they have the orchestra, the arias where characters get their solo song, and the duets between characters with strong relationships, and the ensemble which emphasizes the plot, and so on.
A funny thing about duets in classical opera, they're often meant to show lovers' relationship because of the harmony but can also use opposition and all to show enemies' relationship. And in SherLiam's duet it's just both of them at the same time - thoughts connected while engaging in a chase, a hide and seek game of mystery. We'll go into that later.
Back to the topic. Morimyu follows the main plot strictly, but also uses their advantage with music to add all the side details that wasn't told in the manga to create a "complete" view of the plot. It is always available for musicals to do something unexpected (like how we never expected Lestrade's puppet show to be a whole 5 mins long piece lol). And where they did that they added arias and duets, they allowed moments where characters express and developed their emotions as well as going with the plan (yes Albert yessss). Of course there's both a good and bad side to this all the while.
💛 The good thing is they went all the way to show us sides of emotions that we don't see much in the manga or stage, the sides of the story that all of them have kept hidden while focusing on their grand plan.
💛 But then it does get too emotional at some point, especially those who came for the plot and the mind games behind all of it (like me - although I won't deny that I had a lot of fun picking out all the emotions behind the music here lol).
Musicals can always go beyond what we knew. As for Morimyu, their music is heavily influenced by opera and classical music, and it's shown quite clear. There is live music playing (instead of the entire orchestra we have a violin and piano duet), and they have distinctive arias and recitatives throughout.
So thanks to that, it's also possible to use a reference from classical music to interpret their songs.
A Sonata formation - The Narrative Series of SherLiam
Yes, songs arranged and analysed with reference to a Sonata formation, especially in the way they progress through the play.
Some notes before getting into the point
1 - Sonata = a piece of music consisting of several movements - very often 3, sometimes 4.
First movement-Allegro: With the quick tempo, introducing the theme of the entire Sonata
Second movement-Adagio/Largo: Slow tempo, can be emotional sometimes, as well as leading more towards the final movement
Third movement-Rondo Vivace: The ending, quick-paced and vigorous, leading the Sonata to a close.
A Sonata always has a general theme, a topic. The theme that I chose to write about is Mystery - the Hide and Seek game between the Detective and Lord of Crime
2 - Aria and Recitative = different types of songs used in an opera
Recitative: Lines within a song that happens like a real conversation, as the characters sing they are also talking to each other
Aria: A solo section where everything else is a freeze frame, while one actor remains and sing their own song about their thoughts, feelings, etc.
In this post we're mainly discussing the arias of Sherlock and Liam, and the duet between them. But there's also some mention of recitatives here and there.
3 - Videos used
To make it easier to understand which songs I'm talking about, I also arranged them in piano. And also to have a listen at how they might connect.
Just in case the videos beneath don't work (they didn't work on my phone), the three songs discussed are Nazo, Liam's solo, Kokoro no Rondo, all piano arrangements.
All of the songs noted in this section are arias and duets from Op. 3 - the Ghost of the Whitechapel. The additional "series" that Morimyu has added spreading throughout the play, Sherlock and Liam's narratives, which portrays both their emotions and the chase between the detective and the Lord of Crime.
First Movement - Allegro: Nazo(謎) song
youtube
Starting from Lestrade's exit after his puppetshow and proceed to the scene, Sherlock's aria introduces the theme of the imaginary hide and seek game that the Lord of Crime has started. The song repeats the word (mystery) over and over again with a continuous rhythm.
Ends with Sherlock just mumbling the word Nazo (mystery) and exiting the stage - no conclusions, just like a mystery that leads into further mysteries with no answer.
♛♛♛ In regards to a Sonata formation, this is the beginning of the entire piece. Quick in tempo, written in 3/4 time and introduces the theme of the entire piece - Mystery.
Uso ka Shinjitsu ka - Lie or Truth song
Starting after Sherlock learns the truth behind Jack the Ripper, wondering if Lord of Crime is a good person after all.
Now I had a really hard time thinking whether this piece should be included or not. For one, it's not an aria.
It can be viewed as a Da capo Aria, a development section of the Nazo song, repeating the theme that is introduced, coming and going rather quickly. So, for continuality.
It also does not fit into the series as a whole, being
1) a recitative. The lyrics focus entirely on Sherlock's deduction and whether he should expose the truth or not, etc. so on.
2) The lines in here, unlike the other arias, are taken directly from the manga, so it's not entirely an 'added' element to this chase.
3) Also because if we compare this to a Sonata form, this doesn't really fit anywhere
However, among Sherlock's arias, this song can also be seen as an interesting development as I have mentioned above, so I've decided to have it here, still.
There's another thing about almost all of Sherlock's arias throughout the 2 stages - they never have a conclusive end. The detective's mind is always running, mysteries after mysteries.
Most of the other characters' songs ends with some kind of closing lines, and piano continues to conclude the piece with a strong end, and then goes on to start another piece. All of their problems in the songs are concluded. They made up their minds in some ways.
But Sherlock, his songs always end with him repeating the melody, a capella, and exiting the stage. Piano waits for him to exit, then starts a new song. Or in Op. 2's Mindgame case going straight into the next conversation. We never get to know how Sherlock's songs end, because they didn't really end at those points. There's a hanging sense of waiting for a resolution, a conclusion. Sherlock never seems to have his problems solved within the songs, they just go on and on.
An idea initiates, then something happens and he is once again in the dark. And he spins around within his own mind.
Screenshot from Op. 2. Even if we look back to his aria Mindgames from Op. 2, this song doesn't really have a conclusive ending as well. He just starts singing, the music stops and he starts shooting and going on, resuming the play. It kind of has been a thing for Sherlock's arias?
Second Movement - Adagio/Largo: Liam's solo
youtube
♛♛♛ The "second movement" - the 'slower' piece - of the series, Liam's aria lol but actually the piano part of this song isn't slow at all but ok. The other side of this hide and seek game. The "development" section of the sonata series, where we see things in a much more emotional way.
This aria is much richer in harmony and melody. Not only Liam's melody, but also the piano's part which plays a beautiful melody in harmony.
I recall an interview where the stage director mentions how the "orchestra" - piano and violin are representations for Liam and Sherlock. It kind of applies here, where his music is created mostly by piano.
There is modulation, emotions rising and elevating quickly and strongly. But the harmony is beautiful, overflowing and rich with emotions. The song repeats certain lines, emphasizing aspects within Liam's thoughts.
Unlike Sherlock's train of thoughts that circles with no destination, Liam's solo has a definite ending in harmony -> Even with all his emotions in mind, Liam still has a goal already set before him. He has a brief moment of slowing down, pausing and sung about his feeling, before resuming the story.
Leading us to the final stage - Kokoro no Rondo.
Third Movement - Rondo Vivace: Kokoro no Rondo
youtube
Rondo formation: Rondo is a type of dance that revolves around a pattern, often ABA, ABACA, or ABACABA - where A is the ritournello ("meguri - kimi ni omou - meguru kokoro no rondo" section) that is repeated over and over with B, C parts in between. Rondo can also be combined with sonata form - this case applies to this song which begins with a key other than the tonic (Fm) before resolving to the tonic key (Fm) to put an end to the entire sonata series.
For reference purposes, the last movement of Beethoven's Pathetique or the very typical Fur Elise is also written in a similar format. I also referred to Pathetique quite a lot when brainstorming this post.
♛♛♛ The "final movement" of this Sonata, the final scene of their "Hide and Seek" game. The song's tempo is vibrant and rapid, combining with the dancing sense, all the while strictly following the structure of a Rondo as mentioned above.
This is the stage where Liam and Sherlock's line interacts and reply to each other, as if in a real conversation - just like how the connection between them are now much stronger than what they had before.
In the ritournello, we have Liam and Sherlock's lines intertwining and chasing after one another, emphasizing the "Hide and Seek" element between the two of them.
The song comes to a definite ending, concluding with a strong tonic (Fm) chord. At this stage, there is no more question to be left open, for Sherlock at this point has already made up his mind to take the next step into solving the mysteries regarding the Lord of Crime.
Their imaginary game of Hide and Seek is coming to an end, as Sherlock came to a decision to take the next step - going to Durham.
That's the end of my first draft.
So far that is some of my thoughts noted down right after watching Op. 3 stream a while ago, with some edition made just now.
On the side note, at some point during my discussion with a friend, we also came up with the idea that a Suite may be a better reference. A Suite consists of 4 parts and a prelude, each of them having their specific characteristic. But we didn't go all the way analysing that idea, as
1) we couldn't find a 5th piece that can be added into the series.
2) Even if we did, the Truth or Lie song still would not really fit into the "aria" vibe of this series, as mentioned above.
But then quite interestingly, after a while, I've found another interesting fact that should have been quite obvious but I've missed for (lol) like ages.
The game of Hide and Seek between the detective and the Lord of Crime has begun ever since after Hope's case - that being said, ever since the end of Op. 1
And what is it that we have in Op. 2? "The Mind games of the Lord of Crime". The one where Sherlock went maniac rapping about all the thoughts he has and end up shooting randomly into the wall.
At first it begins like another recitative, but in the later half, the harmony starts to become more harmonious, written in 3/4 time flowing like a dance.
In that section, the melody of the piano and violin part resembles the one we have in Kokoro no Rondo, the Ritournello section, only that the melody of the violin in Op. 2 and the melody that SherLiam sung in Op. 3 are kind of reversed.
Coincidence much?
So now we have a collection of songs from both Opus, it becomes tricky. How do we connect them? And what's the story?
At this point, all these recitatives, aria and duets all in the theme of the Hide and Seek game. And they all connect to each other through harmony, progressions in harmony.
We know that the Mind games of the Lord of Crime has begun from ever since the end of Op. 1. We know that Sherlock keeps wondering about that in Op. 2, and then he wonders even further after he has been tested by the Lord of Crime. "また俺だけのメッセージなのか?" - Is this a message just for me?, as he wondered in the Truth or Lie song. We knew all of that. But Morimyu didn't let that stop them from emphasizing on this subplot even further.
They didn't let the gap between Op. 2 and Op. 3 stop them from making a smooth flow in plot either.
Correction, they didn't simply create a flow. They established a connection, all the while showing a strong progression of Sherlock's thoughts that goes on from Op. 2 straight onto Op. 3.
Very often, what makes a good plot is how their plots and sub-plots intertwine with each other. Morimyu has a main plot that follows Moriarty gang in the plan of changing society. And they have a smaller plot told from Sherlock's side of things.
And they have this sub-plot told by harmony of how Sherlock is connected to Liam, or the Lord of Crime, by an invisible thread. A connection that is only expressed that clearly in Morimyu.
We have so many things going on, so many songs throughout the play. But each of those elements are all connected to something else, creating a sub-plot that enriches the main plot.
There is no loose connections. For everything that connects to the main plot, they're also linked to other elements. Each scene and every song has their own meaning not only in regards to other songs, but also to the plot as a whole.
Also, did I mention how Morimyu feels like a grand piece of music?
Opus -> What classical songs had that basically shows the order in which they are written. Morimyu - a title piece itself - has 3 Opus, 3 different parts with the same theme.
Classical music very often had all the different elements in it -> Morimyu had an overture, the song they sing just before the main theme song, just before introducing the stage. Then arias, ensembles and choruses. All of them are connected by similar harmony.
Classical music always had a big general theme, with each section having a smaller sequence connecting to each other. Subplots within a big plots. A Sonata piece has 3 movements, each having their own "sections" of development - expositions, development, recapitulation. -> Morimyu does the same to their plot and subplots, as discussed above.
Also, Opera reference
While Opus 2 used an opera reference to tell the story, I feel like Opus 3 has become an Opera itself. During Op. 2 the arias were mostly very loyal to the manga, taking their lines from the original work, like the Mind Games song. Their story progresses steadily but logically.
However starting from Op. 3, the aria became more independent. They developed and expressed even further what wasn't said in the manga. For instance, the 3 songs mentioned in the "Sonata" above. And there's also Albert's solo, and Patterson's solo and Milverton, which I haven't got the chance to discuss all.
But either way, they spring out of the original story, adding more emotions and "colours" to the characters. The aria became more original, all the while also much more expressive. We get to see new sides of the characters that we haven't seen anywhere before.
Anyways, it's probably time to go back to the main question: How Morimyu used music to go beyond what's on the pages.
-> Musicals aren't simply about music added to acting. The characters on stage don't just simply starts singing for no reason. All the songs are meant to express something, and while they do they also establish various connections to the plot's progression.
We don't get to see much of the characters' emotions in the manga. And we don't see much of the side story, the finer details behind each arc. Every time, Morimyu adds something original to enrich their plot. They express and develop what's already known to all the viewers, especially regarding the emotional and motivational side of the characters.
-> The manga shows us the entire plot, with details related, back stories that lead to the present, and all. But it doesn't give a lot of hint into how characters might feel. Surely, reading between the lines, it's up to the readers to interpret them.
But Morimyu gives us all of that, and they leave it to us to read between the music.
And even if we didn't, that's fine. Then the purpose of all of them linking together would be to create a performance where everything is connected harmoniously, allowing us to be emerged in the world of Yuumori.
-> The purpose of having a stage, primarily, is to allow the audience to engage in, experience and feel the emotions along with the characters they see on stage. The point of having a live stage, a plot, and the music, are all to let us emphasize with the characters on stage.
In Morimyu, we aren't just watching a plot between our favourite characters happening as we know it from the manga. We see a combination of mysteries unveiling slowly, the stories on the side of each characters as they slowly progress forward, as well as emphasising with their emotions in the story.
That's what I really like about Morimyu.
So, WHAT'S THE POINT OF THIS?
So I had to scroll back to the top (lol) to quote this and make sure I haven't gone too far from the main theme.
Regarding musical Yuumori, there's always so many things I'd like to talk about. And if I start going on about it then it only gets harder to focus on one single topic.
Since the topic here is Morimyu and their music, especially in classical reference, I've tried to keep everything I've discussed relevant. But whenever I start on something, there would always be something that comes to mind. Like how other songs might also have certain connections, or how they used stage directions and lightings, etc. I really want to look more into stage directions in Morimyu as well, but that would have to wait...
Anyways, I tried to keep this as simple as possible. When I sent the first version of this to my friends, I keep having the feeling that I got too technical with all the theories about harmony and structure lol
And once again, this is only some of my own interpretation of the series that I've picked up.
If something else came to mind... well. Either way, for the purpose of engaging in their wonderful music or for the purpose of watching a beautiful stage just for enjoyment, Morimyu definitely is worth watching. And to watch over and over again. I've said this for Op. 2 but I'll say this ten times as much for Op. 3. Truly magnificent.
And, that's pretty much it that I have for today, I guess.
Thanks a lot to all my friends who gave me lots of inspiration and motivation to complete this ヽ(・∀・)ﾉ
Lots of love to @rikaaki as well ヽ(・∀・)ﾉ
#Youtube#musical moriarty the patriot#musical yuukoku no moriarty#yuukoku no moriarty#sherliam#random thoughts idk why#didn't mean for it to be this long but still just random thoughts I'd like to get down#still love this series too much although I feel like I've watched it too many times#harmony analysis I'd like to call it but there wasn't a lot of harmony analysis going on either#morimyu#morimyu and how their music is just extraordinary
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Just Have Faith
[Levi Schuler x Laura Day Masterlist]
Pairing: Levi Schuler x Laura Day [F!MC]
Book: Mother of the Year, Post-Chapter 10
Word Count: ~1,300
Rating/Warning: Teen (some language).
Prompts: @choicesmonthlychallenge "I've got this"; @choicesbookclub MOTY Replay ; @wackydrabbles 103 "Why did you say that" (in bold).
Synopsis: Following the events of Chapter 10, when Guy refuses to wake up Lily, Laura returns home frustrated and alone. She starts to believe Guy's declarations of winning custody. Levi is there to remind her not to give up. [Emotional Hurt/Comfort]
Before she knew it, Laura was back in front of the apartment building. The street around had quieted since she left a few hours earlier. Her feet moved instinctively forward, carrying her numbly toward the building; her eyes were filled with unshed tears. She found herself in the elevator, pressing the button for their floor, but when the doors reopened, she didn't have the strength to take those last few steps.
The doors closed again, and the elevator remained in place, waiting for another resident to call for its arrival. Her head fell back against the wall, and time ticked on. Her mind kept replaying all those moments that had torn her down since Guy's arrival. It was too much.
The elevator began to descend, dinging as the doors opened for whoever summoned it. Laura sniffled back her worries and shuffled to the corner, hoping to go unnoticed.
Levi strutted in, tossing his hair behind his shoulder. He pressed the button for their floor on his way in. He stopped short, noticing he wasn't alone. "Laura?"
She looked up, her gaze barely meeting his before falling.
His eyes widened as he took her in. He rested his hands on her arms, moving them slowly, trying to bring her comfort. "What's wrong?"
Her mouth opened to speak, but no words made themselves known. A heavy sigh slipped through her lips as she reached to cradle her face in her hands.
"Let me help you to your apartment," Levi offered when the elevator arrived at its destination once more.
"No—" Laura shook her head, her voice barely audible. "No. I can't—"
"Where's Rocket?" Levi questioned, noting her absence. His voice rose with concern. "Did something happen? Is Lily alright?"
"Guy happened," Laura scoffed. Her fingers ran beneath her eyes, collecting the tears that tried to escape.
Levi waited patiently, giving her time. He slowly stroked her back, letting her know she wasn't alone.
"He put Lily to bed an hour early so that he'd have an excuse as to why I couldn't pick her up. He wouldn't hear reason. He wouldn't wake her up. And just like that, he's stolen another night from me." Her words flowed more quickly now as she let out the pain. "What if this is it? Is every day going to be a fight with him until I lose or give up?"
Levi's eyes closed at the news. His jaw and fists clenched.
The elevator shifted downward again.
"Come with me," he asked gently as the doors opened again. Levi took her hand and guided her forward, leading them outside into the night. "Let's go for a walk."
Laura didn't protest; this was better than facing the empty apartment for the fourth straight night. The crisp autumn air was refreshing. She felt her body relax slightly with the cool breeze. "I hate him."
"I know." He offered her hand a reassuring squeeze.
"First, when we were together, he made me feel like crap. He got me to believe that all of our problems were my fault. Then, after four years of learning to accept myself again and doing my best to support Lily on my own, he shows up, flaunting his wealth and status." Laura shook her head in disgust. "Lily should've been home yesterday. Maybe, I"ll get her back tomorrow, but who knows. If I had kept her an additional 48 hours, I'd be held accountable, but, Guy? Never. He's bullying me with his money, and no one sees it."
"I see it." Levi brushed his thumb tenderly over her knuckles. "And if it would help, I'm more than happy to drive over there and deck him for you. Let's just get you an alibi first."
Laura laughed through her tears. "Don't tempt me." She leaned into him further. "I don't know what to do." The words slipped from her lips in desperation. "Who says tomorrow will be any different?"
He nodded in understanding, wishing more than anything that he could make it better for her.
"I'm—I'm trying my best. But it doesn't feel like it's enough." Her voice cracked at the admission. "Maybe, I'm not enough for her."
"Why did you say that?" Levi turned to face her. "Don't ever let him make you feel like that. What you and Lily have is special. It's more than he can even hope to comprehend."
"It's only just started, and it already feels hopeless—"
"It's never hopeless," Levi interrupted. "Isn't that what you told me the other day? That it wasn't too late for my career? That I should have faith that it will work out?"
"Maybe I was wrong." No longer able to hold them back, silent tears slid down her cheek.
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest. "Laura, you're her mom. You've been there through the good and the bad. You've put her first in everything. Hell, you moved to a new town with no support just so she could go to a better school and one day achieve her dream. You're an incredible mom and woman. Anyone can see that. As long as you're still standing, as long as you are still fighting, there's no stopping you. Your love will get you through. There's always hope."
Laura wrapped her arms around him, letting the warmth of his embrace soothe her.
"Don't let him get to you. He's not worth it." He stroked her hair softly. "You've got this."
She nodded, taking a step back, trying to compose herself. She let his words settle over her. "I've got this."
"Don't ever let that piece of shit make you doubt yourself. He's not worth it. But you are." He cradled her face in his hands. "What you and Lily have is worth everything. Just have faith in yourself. It's going to be okay."
"Thank you—" she held her hand over his, keeping him there. Laura focused on the warmth of his palm against her cool cheek. A small smile turned at the corner of her lips as his adoring gaze met hers. "Thank you for being everything I've needed since moving here."
"I haven't done anything." His thumb brushed over her cheek. "You did."
"I mean it, Levi. You've been here for everything. You fixed my oven. You baked cookies with Lily and me. You've given me rides. You've babysat Lily (which is no small feat). You helped me get a job. You've been nothing less than a gentleman. You never cease to amaze me." She chewed her lip, watching his smile grow. "I don't know how I got to be so damn lucky."
"I'm the lucky one. You and Rocket have helped me too. In more ways than you know."
"Maybe you can tell me someday." Laura pressed a kiss to his palm.
"Maybe."
"Levi?"
"Yes?"
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You can kiss me now."
He exhaled a chuckle. "Don't mind if I do."
His lips captured hers immediately, not needing any further invitation. They were soft and warm, encouraging him deeper. The subtle taste of her now-dried tears lingered. He made it his mission to kiss ever drop away. Her tears were a reminder of the pain she had felt. He refused to let any memory of that remain. He peppered her face with the softest kisses. It was then that he realized there was nothing he wouldn't do for her. He had never felt like this before. He would move heaven and earth if it would prevent her from shedding another tear. He kissed his way back to her lips, deepening their embrace.
The sound of someone clearing their throat pulled them apart. "Some of us are trying to walk here." A grumpy, elderly man complained, pushing past them.
Laura cringed, hiding her face in her hands.
"Sorry, bro!" Levi called.
"Youth today," the man huffed, shaking his fist.
Her laughter filled the night air around them.
It was a beautiful melody. Levi smiled to himself, admiring her. It just might be his favorite sound.
Tags in a reblog
#Levi Schuler#Levi Schuler x MC#Levi x MC#MOTY#mother of the year#fan fiction#laura day#levi x laura#playchoices
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Robber Claws
hi guys! i've read a bunch of your fics and got inspired so i wrote a thing! enjoy ;) also, it's pretty long so...buckle up! love yall <3
The criminals lurk in the mist, invisible, but Sofiya Pavlichenkov knows they’re there.
She’s perched in the Lookout’s nest of her Warship in Fourth Harbour, pretending to read the documents her first mate, Kastor, has just handed to her. But her blue coat is flapping in the wind and her papers keep jostling and she’s being watched, all of which is rather uncomfortable.
Idly, Sofiya wonders what the criminals might want. A smuggling, perhaps? Out and away from stinking, crawling, loathsome Ketterdam?
Sofiya hates this city. His city. She misses Ravka, her homeland- the Little Palace.
I miss my bloody Kefta, Sofiya thinks darkly as another bought of wind spirals harshly through the Harbour. The blue coat she wears is a subtle nod to her Tidemaker status, but it’s a sad, thin piece of cloth compared to the grandeur of the Fabrikator-made Keftas. But Sofiya can’t wear her Kefta, not if she wants to blend in in Kerch- a lesson she learned long ago…
Old enemies, Sofiya. Old enemies, but not withered grudges.
Huffing out a sigh that would make Zoya Nazyalensky proud, Sofiya rises gracefully to her feet.
They’re coming. She can feel it; they’re making their way towards the ship. They don’t have to be rowdy to intimidate, that’s for sure - or to make a crowd of Merchants and Thieves part like the sea almost immediately.
Sofiya reaches up behind her head and loops her hand around a piece of knotted rope; takes a deep, steadying breath.
And she steps off the platform into the open air.
For a moment, she catches on the air as if a Squaller has caught her on a buffering breeze, but sure enough, gravity kicks in.
Sofiya welcomes the feeling of her stomach in her throat as the fall takes hold, zipping her past the sails. It's good preparation, anyway, for the three dark figures moving up the docks towards her.
As they near and Sofiya lands lightly on the deck, she confirms what she already knew: these were criminals. Her criminals.
The trio stops in front of her. They're all wearing black and gold - not a uniform exactly, but it’s a solid way to show your allegiance. None of their hands were visible, but if they were, Sofiya would find the Robber Claws emblem branded cleanly onto the backs of their knuckles. Their hoods are drawn up over their faces, but Sofiya can tell from their posture who she’s dealing with.
"Ah, Iseut," Sofiya says serenely, "To what do I owe this pleasure?"
The girl in the middle pulls down her hood, revealing shining blond hair, dark eyes, full lips. She doesn’t smile.
"Where have you been, Sofiya?" Iseut asks coolly.
"The Wandering Isle," Sofiya answers immediately, "I stopped at Os Kervo on my return to pick up some supplies. I'm only three days late, Is. Cut me some slack."
Iseut sighs, and suddenly looks less the badass, fake-waitress man-killer, and more the tired mother of a delinquent child. Sofiya feels a flicker of guilt.
She had stopped at Os Kervo for more than one reason. The "supplies" were crates upon crates of commandeered Fjerdan weapons and traps, intercepted by the First Army on their way to the Front Line. Sofiya had paid nothing to take them off the hands of the Ravkan soldiers, who honestly had no clue where to send them. What good were jerky Fjerdan guns to a sophisticated, well-oiled Second Army legion?
Sofiya could picture Zoya's face at the sight of the sad little weapons. Disgust and disdain, unshakable beauty - and perhaps just a little bit of pride that her friend had been the one to collect the Fjerdan cargo. Sofiya would work on selling it all later. She'd dump the Grisha traps in the ocean, though. Drown them like they deserved to be drowned.
"I am sorry, Iseut," Sofiya says, and her words aren’t mistruths.
"Don't apologise to me," Iseut says dismissively, "It’s your friends that were barely able to sleep the past few nights. You should talk to -"
"Destry," Sofiya's words mist the air like a fine rain, "I know."
One of the tall figures stood behind Iseut lowers her own hood. Lyra. Ly.
It made sense that the Robber Claws would send their best Bruisers to Fourth Harbour. Sofiya knew by the other Robber's posture that beneath the hood, she would find the face of Winter. But Winter wouldn't lower her hood in front of so many people, so Sofiya was content with what she could get.
"You really had Destry worried, Sof," Ly says, chastising.
"Destry can handle me being gone for weeks on end," Sofiya crosses her arms. She will not be guilt-tripped, "This job was half a week, and I was only a few days off schedule. I did tell Cherry that I'd be late." The words come out as a question.
None of them say anything.
Another flash of worry courses through Sofiya. Cherry Vlasova is a Heartrender, and one of Sofiya's closest friends. The message that Sofiya had forwarded was simple and concise: I'll be a few days late. Stopping at Os Kervo. Don't worry, no Fjerdans. Tell Destry -S.P
Had something happened to Cherry? She was an avid gossiper; her post box was always full of tip-offs (a useful source of information for the Robber Claws) but Sofiya was reliably informed that her letters were always placed on the top of the pile. Marked "URGENT."
"What happened? Is Cherry alright?" Sofiya demands.
Iseut holds up her palms, and they are callused and grease-marked. Sometimes Iseut is so well put together that Sofiya forgets she's a barmaid.
"Cherry is fine. But all our Grisha are shaken. Whilst you were away, there was an attack on the East Stave."
Sofiya's heart stops and restarts and stops again.
An attack. On the Grisha. And she wasn’t there to - to help, to defend-
"Destry," Sofiya breathes, "And Cherry - and Adali, Roza, Linnea, Yan, Anya- oh, Saints, was it the Fjerdans?"
There are many Grisha members of the Robber Claws. It was one of the reasons that Sofiya wanted to join them in the first place. If the Fjerdans had attacked -
"Everybody is fine," Ly says lowly, "We had Freya and May fixing people up as soon as we heard- and Lita, of course, but behind the scenes."
Freya and May- and even Lita, whose powers most of the gang didn't even know of. Grisha Healers. So people had been hurt.
"What. Happened." Sofiya growls, and Ly glares at her challengingly, fists clenching. The water beneath the decking froths and bubbles as Sofiya brings her own fists together, power surging pleasantly up her arms. If Ly wants a fight, she can have one.
"Calm down, both of you," Winter's smooth voice projects from under her hood. Despite the heavy fabric, her voice is clear and commanding. Sofiya takes a breath to compose herself.
"To answer your previous question: no. It wasn't the Fjerdans." Iseut says, "We don’t know what they were."
Sofiya's brow creases at the chime of fear in Iseut's voice. She's never seen the golden-haired barmaid afraid before.
It begins to rain softly, the pattering of droplets quiet against the wooden decking of the docks.
"We should go back to the Queen’s Head, Iseut," Ly suggests, referencing Iseut’s place of work. Iseut nods once, swiftly, and glances over Sofiya's shoulder at her warship.
"Do you need to...?"
"Yes."
"Go on, then."
"KASTOR! IM GOING FOR A ROUND OF DAY-DRINKING!" Sofiya yells over the shoulder of her rain-splattered coat. She hears Ly chuckle as Kastor's scruffy head pokes out from a window.
He nods at Sofiya when he spots her, and she waves, assenting. Kastor would keep everything safe whilst she was gone. It was their unspoken agreement, unchanging and unwavering since the day they'd become crewmates.
Sofiya turns back to Iseut, Ly and Winter.
"Let's be on our way," she says, and lets her fellow criminals lead the way along the Harbour, her warship disappearing into the mist behind her.
~~~~
The mid-day slump of customers meant that the Robber Claws had the Queen’s Head pub all to themselves.
Iseut- who did not own the pub, but had put more work into it than the real owners ever did- had immediately trekked behind the bar and poured herself a whisky.
"Want anything?" She asks, directing the question directly at Sofiya despite the equal presence of Ly- and Winter (who had lowered her hood slightly now that she was back on familiar ground, with familiar faces.) Bruisers didn’t drink on the job. It slowed reflexes.
"The story," says Sofiya firmly, "It a joke about the day-drinking. What happened?"
Iseut pours herself another whiskey and the quartet take a seat at a shady little circular table in a quiet corner. The murmurs of other Robber Claws members is enough to shelter their conversation from the group- despite Sofiya being sure she was the only one unaware of what had transpired the days she’d been gone.
As Iseut begins her story, with Winter and Ly regularly interjecting with additions, Sofiya feels horror and fear clamp down on her heart like a Fjerdan Grisha trap.
Iseut’s alluring voice weaves a tale of Komedie Brute actors in bloody masks, rose-painted rubble from an impossible explosion, and worst of all: Grisha. Dead Grisha, killed by creatures with screeching metal wings.
“Only a few of our Grisha were hurt,” Iseut sips her drink solemnly, “We took your advice of keeping them anonymous and undercover. We have Erin and our other spies out searching for answers at the embassies. I’m sure you’re just as eager to find out about the winged creatures as we are.”
Sofiya nods, “I am. Thank you for filling me in, Is, really. And to you, Ly, Winter. I know you don’t like going to far from the West Stave.”
The last comment was directed purely at Winter. It’s not a lie. Winter runs a dojo for training Kerch’s women to protect themselves from Barrel bosses and scum alike; she didn’t want her clients finding out about her… Robber side. Being a criminal wasn’t the most unintimidating, friendly persona to have when speaking with vulnerable women.
Sofiya respected Winter and her clean profession. It was hard to be so kind in the Barrel. And men were rarely kind to women at all.
Sofiya knew that first hand.
Shoving away the memories- blue eyes, dark hair, gorgeous smile, charming words and sharper wounds- Sofiya stands in one fluid movement.
“I’m going to find Destry,” she says. Iseut stands, Ly and Winter falling back to flank her again, and smiles. She’s beautiful, that is undoubtful, but the attacks- the sleazy men at the Queen’s Head, the strain of the city- it’s all gotten to her. Sofiya can see it.
This city is poison, thinks Sofiya as Iseut takes her hand and shakes it. Poison and rot.
“Destry will be in her rooms,” Ly supplies, and Sofiya nods at her once.
Sofiya grins brightly, hoping it covers her own weariness, and recites, “Fair winds.”
“Bright stars,” chorus her friends. Sofiya waves over her shoulder as she slips out of the bar and down an alley. Above her, a storm brews in the clouds.
Perhaps the stars would be out that night. It didn’t matter. Nobody in Kerch saw the stars anymore.
~~~~
On her way to Destry’s apartments, Sofiya ran into more members of the Robber Claws.
Malcolm and Firefly, who lived together in shared housing in the Anvil, were shopping for new blacksmiths’ equipment. They each provided invaluable services to the Robber Claws, crafting flawless weapons second only to that of Fabrikators. They greeted her with a wink each. Sofiya moved on swiftly after trading them a Wandering Isle-crafted staff for twenty Kruge.
She picked up some baked goods on the way. She would need them. Destry- who had been her closest friend since she arrived in Kerch- was an Inferni. Fire-bringer; with an even fierier temperament. Rumour had it- and Sofiya knew the rumours were true- that Destry had been attending the University of Ketterdam when she’d heard a boy make a lude comment during an exam and lit the paper on fire with her mind. And that paper had been thrown. At the boy’s face. Ouch.
Sofiya had been nursing a whiskey in a tavern when she’d first heard the story recounted. She’d leapt up from her seat, slithered into an alley and held the recounter at knifepoint until he’d told her Destry’s name.
They’d become fast friends upon meeting. Sofiya had been in awe of someone so rebellious, so brave as to set fire to an exam paper, and Destry- well. Destry had laughed for hours when Sofiya had told her how she’d first come across her name.
But now, staring up at the ornate windows of Destry’s apartment, Sofiya feels unsure. She didn’t mean to worry her friend. Iseut had explained that her letter must have gotten lost during the riots. Sofiya cursed the post offices. So there was a deadly storm- your motto is still “We always deliver.”
Despite her trepidation, Sofiya’s feet were swift on the stairs. She had a key to the apartment, and didn’t hesitate to unlock the door and slip inside without a sound, content to watch Destry whilst she worked; even if only for a moment.
Leaning against the wall, Sofiya’s brow creases as she surveys her friend. Destry’s hair is plaited carefully into two loops at the nape of her neck, hazel strands freeing themselves gently against her light brown skin. She’s stood facing away from Sofiya, arms circled in rings of fire. The shirt she wears is Fabrikator-made; the flames don’t take to the papery material.
Sofiya takes a step forward, and pointedly drops her bag of confectionary on the floor. It lands with an audible thump.
Destry whirls, the fire at her wrists whirling into an inferno ready to strike- until Destry sees who is at her door.
“Shouldn’t have hesitated, Des,” Sofiya said weakly, “I could have put a knife in your back.”
The shock on Destry’s face dissolves. Her face splinters down the middle. Licks of fire at her fingertips wilt into ash in a pile at her boot-clad feet.
“You would have put out the flames with your water, I’m sure,” Destry says, and then flies across the room towards Sofiya, wrapping her in a tight, smoke-smelling embrace.
Sofiya would normally pull back. “Don’t be too open with your heart, Des,” she’d say, “People use your loves against you here.” But Sofiya couldn’t bring herself to say those things. The weight of the week comes crashing down on her head like a tsunami.
Fjerdan traps on my boat, attacks on my gang, tensions in Ravka boiling over… where’s safe anymore, except here?
Destry pulls back slightly to scan Sofiya’s face. She has a smear of oil on her cheek. Destry’s eyes are filled with fire, burning like an ember beneath onyx waters.
“Where. Have. You. Been.”
“Destry-”
“Don’t you make excuses with me, Pavlichenkov,” Destry snarls, “You didn’t warn us you were late! I couldn’t sleep- neither could Cherry!”
“I-”
“We thought you’d been caught, Sofi,” Destry cries, “We thought the Fjerdans had got you! I thought you died.”
The word is ugly and big in the room, choking Sofiya’s response. Death. Dying. Dead. And by Fjerdan hands. It wasn’t so rare for travelling Grisha to be caught and sent to the pyres.
“I’m sorry,” Sofiya says, because it’s the only thing there is, “I wrote- I really did, don’t look at me like that- according to Lyra, there was a storm in the True Sea. The letter sunk with the ship.”
“You’re a Tidemaker,” Destry huffs.
“Yes, which means I manipulate water,” Sofiya says, “Not stop it from overturning ships with important letters on them. Destry, I’m sorry. I brought waffles.” She offers the last sentence like a defendant on trial with the Stadwatch; one final piece of evidence to prove her innocence.
Destry brightens immediately, “Well, in that case.”
The pair of them set to work, shoulders just brushing in the cramped kitchenette. Sofiya’s array of pasties are laid out over two plates, which they lay on their laps. Destry’s job for the Robber Claws is, in few words, that of the logician. Papers are scattered all over her apartment, covered in detailed blueprints and scale drawings of buildings all over Ketterdam, Fjerda and even- rarely- Shu Han. There were no drawings of Ravka.
If Iseut had ever commissioned a robbery in Ravka, Sofiya didn’t know about it. It would be…unwise to hit out at the Ravkans, with so many Grisha in the gang.
But Destry’s job was essential, so Sofiya couldn’t complain about the lack of trays to put their plates on. Such things were useless for such an incredible mind as Destry’s.
“So,” says Destry conversationally as she lights the fireplace with a casual flick of her wrist, “How were the Wandering Isles?”
Sofiya says nothing, massaging her temples lightly. Destry manages a laugh.
“Your silence is telling, Sofi,” she warns.
Sighing quietly, suddenly feeling very tired, Sofiya says, “It was crawling with our Fjerdan friends from the North. ‘Peaceful’ Fjerdans.”
Destry spins, and she is outlined with the fire. We’re opposites, Sofiya thinks. Fire and Water.
“You didn’t-” Destry begins, horrified.
Silently, solemnly, Sofiya raised her palms to face the ceiling. Destry reaches out.
Her gentle fingers trace the scars there. Deep and painful and barely healed, the scars run red against Sofiya’s pale flesh.
“Sofiya…” Destry breathes.
“It was the only way to push my power down,” Sofiya whispers. She’s rarely so emotive, but Destry is someone she trusts with everything. It was a weakness, some would say, but they were each powerful Grisha. They were Gods in a world of men. And they would not kneel “If I hadn’t, I would’ve been caught. It was a price to pay.”
Grisha shone like lighthouses around people. In Kerch, in Ketterdam, it was safer for them- especially ones loyal to a gang, as Destry and Sofiya were. But in the Wandering Isles; where Fjerdans passed through on their way to Novyi Zem, where gang affiliations mattered less than the colour of your eyes… Sofiya tells herself she had no choice.
“Sofiya, you’ve opened up old wounds here,” Destry says, tracing the marred skin of her palms again, “You need a healer. Freya, Lita, May-”
“Wouldn’t understand,” Sofiya finished, pulling her hands out of Destry’s and placing them carefully in her lap, obscuring them with her coat, “They’re healers, Des, not warriors- they’d go to Iseut.”
Iseut. Their unofficial leader, the founder, the lighthouse in raging seas. All of the Robber Claws seemed to be caught in her gravity. She was their sun. And Sofiya… well, Sofiya was the moon. Iseut would send her to a healer, one who would stop her travels. One who would commandeer her Warship, and Kastor… health of the mind was important to Iseut.
But Sofiya was not damaged, as they would tell her. She was not broken. Her mind was sound.
I did what I had to do, to survive.
But Destry can see through it all. Through the mask, through her eyes, right to her bones. Through to her lying, treacherous heart. We’re all broken in the end.
But.
Oh, Destry, Destry, please…
“I won’t tell her,” Destry promises, “But I’d like you to know that I think you should. Tell her, that is- Iseut. She might help.”
“She might ship me back to Ravka,” Sofiya grumbles, biting into a toasty croissant.
“Oh, she wouldn’t.”
“You never know.”
“She’ll want you to heal, that’s all.”
“Yes,” Sofiya rolls her eyes, “But these wounds are of the flesh. The scars on my heart will never heal, not in this life Perhaps there will be mercy in the next, even for my rotten soul.”
“You sound like you’re auditioning for the Komedie Brute,” Destry laughs.
“Mother, Father, pay the rent!” Sofiya crows.
“I can’t my dear, the money’s spent,” Destry choruses instinctively.
Sofiya wipes away an invisible tear, “Gorgeous! We’ll make an actress out of you, yet, Destry Clements.”
“Oh, you most certainly will not,” Destry huffs.
Their laughter fills the air, and Sofiya thinks that maybe there is hope for her rotten soul, after all.
~~~~
The man returns late from the pub wearing only one shoe.
A bottle drained halfway of mauve liquid dangles limply from his pale fingers. The veins in his foot are blue in the half-moon’s light.
He slurs a broken melody. She catches a few words as he passes below her on the street.
“Hmm… perish… light… air… fire… hell… hmmm…”
The man’s name is Danyl Harrop. And he is going to die tonight.
“Hmm… shadow… devil… rot… earth… sun… burn… lose….”
Harrop continues down the road, heedless of the mud on his bare foot. He'd be blackout drunk in the morning if he survived.
He wouldn’t.
Silent as a breeze, steps as soft as downy feathers, she leaps from the streetlight where she was perched.
She strikes.
She is ash and shadow. She is a storm of fire. She is vengeance.
She is death.
Harrop yelps as she pins him against the tree. His face is as white as the moon, with eyes like black craters.
“What’re you doi-” he slurs dazedly, but she silences him with a wave of her hand. He blubbers like a fish on land as he tries to shout for help.
“For King and Country,” says the girl. Stepping away from Harrop, she lets her power hold him against the tree, keeping his muscles upright. She surveys him like an artist would their unfinished masterpiece.
The girl whispers, “Sleep tight, Danyl.”
Flicking her wrist, she snaps his neck. He’s still alive, barely, so she latches on to what little of his mind there is left and strips it like an onion. For a man who is out so late, so drunk, on what the girl remembers as a work-day, he knows too much.
Secrets. They feed this girl, nourish her. There is a skip in her step as she turns away from Harrop; without her supporting his muscles, he collapses against the tree. She leaves his mind just as it goes dark.
There is no need to hide in the treetops upon her return to the city. It gleams just half a mile away, most of which is roiling seawater. As the girl wanders along the road back to Ketterdam, she finds Danyl Harrop’s shoe in a puddle of mud. The girl laughs at the sky. She flips a coin into the shoe, whispers a heartless prayer to her Saints, and moves on.
Back to Ketterdam. Back home.
~~~~
Ok, so that's that! I left it on a bit of a cliffhanger... I may have created a whole plot... so there might be some more coming soon!
all these excellent characters (save Sofiya, Danyl, Kastor and the girl at the end who kills Danyl- who has no name... yet *wink*) belong to the following:
Iseut is @littlegirldorothea's
Destry is @finnick-annie's (I may have made them besties👀👀)
Cherry is @brekkercookie's (they are ALSO besties👀👀 we have a trio omg)
Winter is @cressjacquine's
Lyra is @no-mourners-at-my-funeral's
Malcom is @blackpheonix’s
Firefly is @ask-shadowbon’s
Erin is @lightningboytytonjesper’s
Adali is @apple-bottom-jeansx’s
Roza is @vampire-rights’s
Linnea is @alonlyfangirl's
Yan is @lucentcorrigan’s
Anya is @queenlilith43’s
Freya is @smol-evil-gremlin’s
Lita is @the-whispers-of-moonlight’s
May is @saltyfortunes
and the "Fair winds, bright stars" motto as created by @spicy-tomato-sauce's
oh and the whole Grishaverse is the wonderful @lbardugo's <3
if I missed anyone or you want to tag anyone go ahead!
#shadow and bone#s&b#six of crows#kaz brekker#inej ghafa#nina zenik#matthias helvar#wylan van eck#the crows#pretty people#alina starkov#the darkling#malyen oretsev#mal oretsev#kanej#wesper#helnik#malina#darklina#milo the goat#sankta milo#sankta alina#general kirigan#soc#my writing#fanfic#soc fanfic
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the brothers + the former undateables finding out buff cat has kittens that are visiting devildom, but unfortunately buff kittens are extremely chaotic little shits, mc + diavolo + barbatos + simeon + satan doesn't believe anyone when they say "I'm convinced they're pure evil and they bite" "no they baby"
buff cat Buff Cat BUFF CAT BUFFCATBUFFCA-
I was really excited to write this. I LOVE Buff Cat. This is just making me grin while thinking of writing it. Aaaaa I mean I couldn’t just not draw it either,, aha? ;)
This also works for Belphie and Luke, but I think Mammon sees the most of the cats because he likes MC and visits them, but is TERRIFIED. More buff cat memes at the bottom. Also warning very long.
Brothers and New Datables reaction to Buff Cat’s kittens!
Lucifer
As soon as MC left the kittens and him alone, chaos ensued. Within minutes, one of the kittens successful spat out a hairball on him, and another was about to break his desk. The third was on his bookshelf, biting the spine of his books.
He didn’t want to raise his voice at kittens, but he swore they were trying to antagonise him on purpose. Normal kittens do not act like this.
As soon as he caught one coating his paperwork in their saliva, he began to shout. This only backfired, as they truly did plan to beat the shit out of him.
He knew he couldn’t retaliate, or MC would be mad, and so would Diavolo. Also, he’s pretty sure that their dad would beat him up.
The kittens clawed up his shirt, broke his desk, ruined his paperwork, books, pens, and made him bleed. He tried his very best to put them in corners without hurting them, but they acted as though they were high on katnip and are professional murderers.
Needless to say, as soon as MC returned he was breathless and a mess. MC didn’t even notice, and told him thanks for playing with the kittens!! He was about to tell MC to keep their kittens on a leash when MC just said they’re so energetic at this age.
Energetic?? You mean that’s ENERGETIC? Not MURDEROUS INTENT?
Never wants to be near another buff kitten. What on earth happens during their adulthood that changes them from a chaotic shit to this otherworldly entity.
Mammon
Mammon was screeching for hours. Literally screaming they were out for his flesh, and can smell his fear.
They bit his ankles and even with the blood seeping from it, neither you or Satan believed the buff kittens did it.
You both laughed it off as him getting hurt, and went to take care of the kittens.
He swears they’re trying to kill him and sacrifice his very soul.
Also he’s never stealing from Diavolo again after they started staying there, and even began protecting the place.
Leviathan
He was fine with Buff Cat, so why not the kittens? They looked so well behaved like MC, so why not offer to look after them for a little bit, while everyone was at school? He doesn’t go in person so he doesn’t mind.
Ah what a big mistake that was.
These kittens are trying to break into his aquarium; quite literally. They just attempted to headbutt the glass and made running starts repeatedly, hoping it would crack.
As soon as he got them to stop doing that, they began to knaw at his wires, which he had to stop. When he got a headcount, there were only two, so where was the third?
SHIT! HIS RURI CHAN FIGURINES!
The third one was now biting off one of his limited addition Ruri chan’s arms, and Levi was getting pissed. He wasn’t sure what he’d tell MC, but he was ready to kick them out of his room.
He remembered buff cat, his good buddy, and tried to just watch over them a little longer. They were his kids, so he could just do him one favour.
Levi was screaming in regret when all his manga was ripped to shreds. All. Of. It. Nothing was spared, and Levi was ready to kick them out for real.
Until MC and Buff cat came in to take the kittens. Levi was going to scream out his frustrations, but just as he said “your”, a kitten bit his ankle causing him to silently scream and fall to the ground.
Concerned, you both ran up to him and tried to help him up, wondering what happened. One kitten however, walked behind you and put a paw to his neck and sliced. Afterwards, he did the I’m watching you motion.
Scared enough to almost piss his pants, Levi kept his mouth shut on the experience he had today, and probably tommorrow. After all, since it went so well he wouldn’t mind watching them this week while everyone attended classes, right?
Satan
Wherearethebabieswherewherewhere
He was so excited, and constantly babied them. He had all the cat toys, the best cat food, and became a sort of servant for them.
With just a meow or point he’d be off to get them whatever they wanted. Even if they bit his books or stole his clothes, he’d just go aweee!! They’re learning how to use their bodies as they grow.
Originally opposed to Diavolo keeping them, as he wanted them, but the royals was a much better choice for three growing kittens.
Constantly showers them with affection and tries to baby talk them. It sounds kind of creepy.
When his brothers try to bully or blame the kittens for something the kittens obviously did, he lectures and berates them on cat development and why they shouldn’t hurt their feelings.
Asmodeous
Screaming out of fear and anger. Asmo found the three kittens in the mess of his clothes in his room.
They were all ripping and shredding at his clothes, and when they noticed him proceeded to bite and scratch as his hair, attempting to rip it out.
He was screaming like he was being murdered, and running around the room for five minutes. Every time he tried to exit, one would block the door.
Sensing that their MC was coming, the three behaved and snuggled up to him, meowing and purring as if they were content.
When MC entered, they noticed the scene before them and smiled!! How cute!! The kittens were snuggling against Asmo.
Asmo was shrieking and explaining to you what had happened, and your kittens pretended to act asleep.
Upset by him framing them, you gave him an earful that if he ripped up his own clothes on accident, he shouldn’t blame the kittens!
To think Asmo was so irresponsible.
Beelzebub
He figured since Buff cat worked out, and these were his children, who were absolutely buff, they’d work out too right?
Oh yeah. They worked out how to absolutely destroy the entire gym in a matter of minutes.
They aggressively beat up every gym go-er and threw dumbbells everywhere. They wrecked the treadmills and other machines, and bit off the wires for the electrical side.
Within minutes, Beel and the kittens were kicked to the curve, and banned for life. The injured staff and people were taken care of by Lucifer’s credit card. He 100% believed the buff cats did it, but neither you or Satan did.
It was kind of frustrating how you taught demons randomly burst into pain or that possibly Beel did it, but he understood you wanted to protect the kittens.
He understood they were still young and energetic, so they weren’t as peaceful. He’s aware they’re chaotic and will not deny it, but he still takes care of them as occasionally let’s them teeth on his fingers, so they can grow strong, since he knows they’re just playing.
Belphegor
no No NO.
He does not want to be near the buff kittens. He’s barely able to approach Buff Cat, but buff kittens? No way.
These buff kittens terrify him more than buff cat, and that’s saying something. There are three chaotic pieces of shits running around, biting ankles and trying to claw at everything.
He runs to the attic, unless the buff kittens are there. If they are, he runs off into the unknown.
Diavolo
He was the one who approved of them visiting. As soon as he heard buff cat actually had kittens, he wanted to meet them. With Barbatos agreeing, Lucifer lost the battle.
Was so happy to have them. Had Barbatos prepare everything, and even spent a whole lot of money on jewelled collars and adorable outfits!
He let them have the best milk in devildom, and even allowed them to rest in his room during their stay. It was even better because Diavolo was recently asking Satan for cat recommendations, as he felt like having a cat to pet while working would be nice.
This is based off a chat. ^^.
You all, the five, agree that it’d be a fun idea for them to stay in the devildom, and they’d be close to buff cat too, it’s a win win. They could stay with the royals, while HOL has Buff Cat. Simeon couldn’t take any since Luke was terrified.
Diavolo 100% babied them, even more than you. Some say he looks big and a bit scarily buff, but he now posts on his devilgram pictures of him and the kittens, which has actually helped his approachable image.
Cat papi.
Barbatos
He was on board with the idea of meeting new baby buff cats. He does pretty well with kids, and wouldn’t mind seeing the babies of such a sophisticated cat.
He was delightedly when MC handed them to him, and told him they’d be gone for a bit. He properly fed them, changed their clothes, pet them, give them attention, and even told them stories of MC.
The kittens were constantly entertained, and purred in delight every time he approached them. They seemed patient and cute, but according to the other staff they were worse than actual demons.
Apparently they were the ones who broke the stuff in the hallway, and managed to get a password to a secret room and broke everything in it. Luckily for the kittens, Barbatos didn’t believe it.
I mean, how could three kittens that seem desperate for love that just want some warmth act so devilishly?
Happy to report to MC that nothing came up. Even if he did catch them in the act, it wouldn’t matter. He would think they’re just being a little playful or energetic.
Very delighted that they catch mice, and now that they live here he has three strong cats to protect his kitchen and the prince.
Solomon
This is great!! Now he knows that buff cats breed, can he dissect them?
He was attempting to catch one while the three were there, but these chaotic brats would not sit still. They were jumping from couch to shelves, knocking over all sorts of things.
When he finally got them in his room, they began knocking over all his potions and books, and even began to bite back. They hissed and smacked him with their tails, body slammed him, and tried to claw his eyes out.
He figured feeding them would calm them down, but they ended up breaking his plates as soon as they saw him attempt to cook, these kittens have good intuition.
They proceeded to break everything in the kitchen, and when you came in to check on the noise with Simeon, you saw your three little kittens covered in flour, and Solomon with a defeated look.
Solomon tried to explain, but he got lectured for trying to dissect your babies. You even yelled at him for making them so scared that they tried their hardest to escape him, and almost got hurt because of it.
10/10 thinks those things are little shits.
Simeon
He loves them!! He’s probably good with human children, but with buff kittens he’s amazingly good as well!!
The kittens were well behaved and allowed him to pet them, and curled up as he read them stories!!
He gives them their bottles of milk,, he makes sure they’re warm,, and he babies them!! Because they’re baby.
He gave off great dad energy, and even invited Luke or Solomon to play with them. Luke suddenly had to visit the grocery store and Solomon for some reason was nowhere to be found.
Simeon would love to babysit them again, and even asked if they would come over more often! He and Buff Cat will also share stories of the kittens from now on, because they’re so cute.
Luke
No.
He is not going NEAR them. If he’s terrified of buff cat as is, what makes you think he’s not going to be terrified of buff kittens?
The second he sees one of them act mischievously, he’s screaming for Simeon. However, he just watches Simeon laugh it off.
He’s going to stay in his room until those demon spawns disappear.
+ MC
You were so so happy. Buff Cat’s little kittens were visiting you in the devildom, and you were ecstatic.
When you saw the kittens, you cuddled each of them for twenty minutes straight. You peppered them with kisses and gave them tummy rubs.
The brothers watched in shock, and were slightly envious that you were cuddling the kittens.
You got up to stretch, and as soon as you did they ran around and tried to bite everyone in the vicinity, and after you sat back down, they curled up to you like nothing happened.
Luke was in the corner shaking from how he just witnessed a kitten attempt to bite off Asmo’s eyelash.
Everyone except the baby bunch suddenly felt chills up their backs. It was not going to be a good week.
——————-
Here’s some memes! I think it’d be pretty funny and great on the lore if the royals actually took in the buff kittens, and began to care for them. The cats are as chaotic as Diavolo, so Diavolo would probably take fault and say he must of influenced the cuties, who are just replicating what they see like babies do. Luke, Mammon, and Belphie will never visit again. The kittens will also protect the jewels.
#obey me#obey me swd#obey me shall we date#obey me hc#obey me headcanon#buff cat#buff cat memes#please request more buff cat#I literally love these so much
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Intertwined - Chapter 1
Rating: Teen
Content Warnings: It's a hanahaki fic, so. Mild body horror, blood, respiratory illness. (Starts at Ch 3 and gets worse from there).
Characters: All
Pairing: Moceit
Additional Notes: This one was supposed to be Darker and Longer, but turns out I'm not in the headspace to write angst atm, so it ends up moving p fast. Swaps between Janus and Patton's POVs. Post-PoF, light angst. Not whump. They both get hanahaki, but there is absolutely no version of Moceit in my mind where Janus isn't the one who falls first. My AO3 username is WizatdGlick.
Summary: The story of how Janus and Patton find each other at rock bottom and fall in love anyway.
A gentle knock on Janus' door drew him out of his thoughts. He donned a mask of triumph as he rose to open it, straightening his hat as he went. It couldn't be Remus; Remus never knocked so softly, which meant that Janus had to perform. He slid into the role with difficulty, struggling to find the edges of this gloating persona when all he felt was numb and tired and lost.
It was Patton at the door, and Janus felt everything slip, and Patton's eyes lit up with recognition, and all of Janus' resolve fell away in the face of that beseeching gaze.
"Come for another debate?" Janus asked in a low voice, making no effort to hide his ironical smile.
Patton smiled too, though he dropped it a moment too soon. Janus got the distinct impression that Patton was also far too wrung-out to put on any kind of act tonight. "Just came to check on you."
It would be as natural as breathing for Janus to draw back, place his fingertips delicately to his chest, widen his eyes. ' Check on me?' he would say, all faux-innocence, ' Please, Patton, I'm not a child. I don't need your pity.'
But he didn't.
Here was Patton, reaching out, and hadn't that been what Janus had wanted all along? That tiny, fervent flame that he hadn't allowed himself to acknowledge, that smallest ember of hope that someone might just give him what he was convinced he had to take.
The seconds stretched out until the silence verged on awkward, and Janus' pride stood up to do what his cunning would not: "I'm fine." He was fine, strangely. Not happy, as he perhaps should have been, but nothing hurt.
Patton's brow furrowed. "Am I supposed to believe that?" he asked gently.
Something warm and soft and dangerous bloomed in Janus' chest at Patton's look of confusion. He had freckles on his nose, scattered like spilled cinnamon: a trait assigned by Thomas’ subconscious. "Patton," Janus said, flicking his gaze upwards to meet Patton's eyes. "Would you like to come in?"
"To your room ?" Patton asked, eyes widening. He looked past Janus' shoulder and Janus fought not to move and block Patton's gaze with his body. He had just invited Patton in; there was no point getting shy now. "Won't that, y'know, do something to me?"
"It's just a matter of self-control," Janus said, hoping to get a smile out of Patton.
Sure enough, Patton did smile. "What color is my shirt?"
Janus said, "True blue," and stepped backwards to let Patton in.
It was a risk to bring someone into his room like this, but he felt unusually clear-headed tonight, calm and strangely secure despite the fact he had just let a known enemy past his defenses, and despite the exhaustion that made every breath feel heavy.
"Warm in here," Patton remarked, looking around.
Janus motioned him over to a set of armchairs. To be seen was to be judged, and he wasn't sure what he would do if Patton found him lacking again . "I have a question for you, Patton."
In the low light, the tear tracks on Patton's cheeks glimmered when he tilted his head inquisitively. "You do?"
Janus nodded, slow and calculated. He was sure he already knew the answer to the question, and preemptive anger bubbled thick and hot in his veins. "Who," he said, unable to keep from glaring, "came to check on you?"
"Well," said Patton, "Ah… They don't-- Everyone's upset right now--"
"And you're not?" Janus demanded. "And don't you dare tell me that you're fine." His emotions were running too hot; he needed to check himself, but seeing Patton make excuses filled him with a passion he'd only ever felt on Thomas' behalf.
"I am--"
"Don't."
"But I have to be," Patton whispered. "I can't-- I know they told me… They said it was okay for me to be sad, but--"
"If you fall apart, there's no one there to pick up the pieces," Janus guessed. "Sure, you can be sad, as long as it doesn't interfere with your role."
"Don't be mad at them," Patton pleaded, and Janus realized with a jolt that he would get into no one's good graces by slinging around insults.
"It's just hard," Janus said plainly, only half-noticing the words coming out of his mouth. He had just become aware of a keen and sickening new desire, borne on the back of a newfound respect for Patton that he had even lasted this long without having some sort of spectacular breakdown. Janus' whole chest ached with it, that and the equally sickening knowledge that he had just become horrifically vulnerable, that he had fallen under a spell he could never hope to break.
He saw it in his mind's eye: he saw himself stand and lean over, take Patton's jaw in his hands, kiss him long and deep and slow. He saw himself lay his body and soul bare before Patton, getting on his knees to forgive Patton all his perceived flaws. He meant well, after all. He only ever meant well, and it wasn't really his fault that those good intentions were capable of morphing into a cruel and deadly weapon.
But he would plunge that weapon straight into Janus' heart before their lips could ever even meet. Janus could see it now, Patton pulling away in confusion and disgust. His tenuous patience would give out then and there, and Janus would have no hope of acceptance ever again. Same for Remus, probably. They would remain Dark Sides forever, damned to be eternal outcasts. All thanks to Janus' pathetic inability to control himself.
"Why do you care so much about…" Patton hesitated for a moment and gave a shallow sigh. "Well, about me?"
And now Janus found himself walking a chasm’s edge. His instinct was to lean hard into the opposite of the truth and insult Patton so deeply that he left and never came back. Eliminate the threat. But that wasn't an option now of all times. No, he had to maintain a friendship with Patton, somehow. He had to keep himself under control. How fun. "You're a part of Thomas," Janus said. He paused.
"So are the others."
"You've earned my respect."
"Oh," said Patton. "Wow, um. Gosh, that's…" His lower lip trembled. "I should go," he said in a broken voice.
Janus surveyed him in silent agony, teetering on the precipice of a lie. With a monumental effort, he pulled himself away from it and opened his arms. "Come here."
The floodgates opened. Patton fell into Janus' lap, already sobbing. Janus held him, all his muscles stiff and awkward. He was much smaller in the mindscape than he was in Thomas’ eyes and it was difficult to support Patton’s much larger frame. A sharp pain flared in Janus’ collarbone where Patton had buried his forehead and his tears were already starting to seep through Janus' clothes. He cringed at himself and the absurdity of the situation, wishing he had some way to make it better. He should have had words for this, all the right words to soothe away Patton's worries and set him right again. But he was so tired.
"I'm s-s-sorry," Patton said through shuddering sobs that dug his forehead harder into Janus' clavicle.
"It's okay," Janus said, concentrating hard on keeping the effects of his room at bay.
"Are you--" Patton sniffled " --sure you're okay?"
A rush of affection melted Janus' heart and he sighed and held Patton closer despite the shooting pain in his collarbone and the ache in his arms. Even in the midst of a post-breakdown breakdown, Patton was self-sacrificing (self- destructive) enough to check in on him. "You don't have a selfish bone in your body, do you?" Janus sighed, lamenting Patton’s bleeding heart. For some reason, this only made Patton cry harder. Janus cast his mind back to the last time Remus was this upset, found nothing, had to speculate. He and Remus and Virgil were self-sufficient, secretive. When it came to personal crises, they weathered them alone and bore the aftermath in stoicism. "Do you want me to play with your hair?"
"I don't know," Patton sobbed into Janus' chest.
Janus sighed and began to run his fingers through Patton's honey-colored hair, grateful that the thick material of his gloves kept their skin from touching. It was better this way, and a good reminder for Janus. He guarded his heart so closely for a reason.
Janus, despite the discomfort from the awkward weight distribution and the clammy feeling of cooled tears on his shirt, was half-asleep in the chair by the time Patton stopped crying.
"Sorry," Patton said, pulling away, and even with snot and tears all over his flushed cheeks, even with his eyes all red and puffy behind his fogged-up glasses and his hair standing up at strange diagonals from Janus' attempts at comfort, he was radiant.
"For having feelings?" Janus asked, gently imaging himself into a new, dry shirt.
"For making them your problem." Patton took his glasses off and began to polish them on the hem of his own shirt.
"Patton, I need you to know this." Janus waited until Patton looked at him before continuing, "I owe you nothing. If I had wanted you to leave, I would have asked you to leave and thought nothing of it."
Patton nodded and went back to polishing his glasses. They were silent for a long moment, during which Janus found himself unable to suppress a series of yawns. It must have been around 4:00 in the morning by this point. They had to have been the only ones awake.
"Hey, Janus," Patton said, finally putting his glasses back on. "You know The Breakfast Club?"
"Yes," Janus said distractedly, trying to figure out where Patton was going with this.
"This wasn't our version of that, was it?"
"What do you mean?"
"When tomorrow comes and we're back to, to some sort of normal… You'll still be my friend, right?"
Now here was a situation Janus had never once envisioned for himself. He had pictured winning over Roman, had pictured gaining Thomas' support. Never once had he expected real friendship with any of them, let alone Patton. "Yes," he said, feeling sick at the irony of it. He had been comfortable as Patton's enemy, was now yearning for his kiss… How could he be friends with Patton when he burned like this for Patton's wholehearted affection? Was he really just supposed to endure it?
Patton smiled, so sweet and earnest that Janus had to bite down on his tongue. "Good," he said. "Speaking of, do you wanna have breakfast with me?"
"Not right now, I hope," Janus teased.
"No, no, not right now." Patton muffled a yawn into his sleeve. "I guess I'd better go."
Janus nodded. "See you in the morning?"
"Um," said Patton, who didn't appear to have been listening. "Thank you, Janus. You didn't have to-- Well, thank you."
He sank out without another word.
Janus imagined himself into his pajamas, imagined the lights off and threw himself onto his bed. "Fuck."
--
Frigid air seeped from the hallway seeped under the crack where Janus' door stopped just short of the carpet. He didn't allow himself to notice, and continued to put his outfit on piece by agonizing piece. The cold air made his joints slow and achy, and he struggled to get the clasps done up. It was just as well that he hadn't put on his gloves yet. He had become quite adept at handling things while wearing them, but for this task, the bulky fabric would only get in the way. After all, just like his singular snake fang, his gloves were for aesthetics, not function.
Finally, he donned his hat and faced the door, forced to confront that fatal truth: He could never have what he wanted. The moment he had achieved his goal of Thomas’ acceptance, the triumph had slipped away in his hands to be replaced with a truly unattainable goal.
Memories from last night, the phantom sensation of Patton in his arms, teased him until he had to sneer at himself. Pathetic. He was acting pathetic. Falling for Patton was strategically inadvisable, even if he couldn’t help it, but actively pursuing him was out of the question. It was all-risk, no reward. Still, his treacherous heart fluttered, teasing him with the thought of Patton’s lips on his own, Patton’s hands on his body, sharing heat, deepening the kiss--
“All risk,” Janus said out loud to himself, “no reward.” A mantra to see him through. He opened his door, his gloved hand slipping a little on the polished brass of his doorknob, and nearly walked straight into Remus as he passed by with an armful of dismembered dolls.
“Well,” said Janus, tilting his head to better examine the pile of plastic limbs and bodies in Remus’ arms, “I won’t ask what you’re up to.” He stifled a yawn behind his hand, visualizing a piping hot cup of coffee. A shudder wrecked his concentration and he frowned. “Are you the reason it’s so cold in here?”
Remus ignored the question, his feverish eyes darting from Janus’ mouth to his hand to his face. “I knew you were up late last night. That’s why I came this way.” He gave a crooked but strangely boyish grin. “I wanted to know where you’d gotten off to. Or who you’d gotten off with. ”
Janus, to his horror, blushed. Fragmented images flashed through his head-- What if he had kissed Patton? And Patton had kissed back? Mask, mask, mask! “I was spreading the Gospel.”
“You were spreading something , though, weren’t you?” Remus shifted the dolls in his arms and held up a masculine torso. “I know I heard Big Daddy’s voice. Play a little game of Patton- Snake , did you?”
Janus swore he could hear porcelain cracking as his heart began to race. “In all seriousness, Remus, we did reach an agreement.”
“Sounds like you reached more than that.” Remus waggled his tongue.
God, he was relentless when he was on the scent of something. Janus hid his face behind his hands, realizing a moment too late that this display of shame would only add fuel to the fire. So he took the only option left and muttered, “Boundaries,” into his palms.
“Oh,” said Remus, leaning back on his heels. “ Oh. Janus, you didn’t .”
“Of course we didn't!” Janus hissed, dropping his hands.
"But you wanted to?"
“How much did you hear yesterday, anyway?”
“Oh, I heard the whole debacle, including that heartwarming little moment at the end,” Remus said, rocking forward onto his toes. “Thanks for putting in a good word for me, by the way.”
They fell into an awkward silence as Janus once again reached for words that simply weren’t there. “I didn’t mean it,” he said finally, cursing himself.
“No?” said Remus. “Not even a teeny tiny little bit?” He poked Janus in the chest with the plastic torso, still clenched in his left hand. “Right here?”
“You,” said Janus, “are just as evil as I am.”
Remus backed off with a grin, leaving Janus in doubt that he had ever even been angry in the first place. “So where are you off to now? Roman’s got this place awfully cold; gonna go warm Patton’s snake?”
“You already made a ‘Patton snake’ joke,” Janus said, slamming another mask onto his face to hide his blush. “But to answer your question, he asked me to join him for breakfast.”
“Aww.” Remus wiped fake tears from his cheeks. “You better not start spending too much time with him or I’m going to get jealous.”
#moceit#sanders sides#sanders sides fic#sorry if this shows up in the tag and catfishes the whumpers but i just wanted to say:#i specified that this isnt whump specifically because i DIDNT want to catfish y'all lmao#i just don't have it in me to hurt my babies that bad skhsjshf#anyway no judgement just not what this is#spicywrites#spicywrites intertwined
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Summary
Roche and Iorveth go on a date with Geralt as their chaperone (not the hat).
Content Background
This one is especially painful to yeet because it was already completed, together with 50% of the next chapter that was the smutty bits. It was finished right about the time I posted Chapter 5 and would have fit in as Chapter 11, but it just didn't make sense with all the additional plot points I'd shoved in.
I've redacted the parts that could potentially get my tumblr banned btw please donut laugh when you see it.
Original Fic
It Took Years
Length
2,300 words
_____________
“Geralt, remember when I released you from prison and saved you from the Nilfgaardians a year ago?”
The white wolf raised his eyebrows in surprise. Roche had never called in a favour for him, and he could tell that Geralt knew it was going to be quite significant. He had thought about it too many times and despite the embarrassment and possibly never being able to look the witcher in the eye, he simply had no other choice.
“Look, I just need you to help Iorveth and I create an alibi.”
“... Uh-huh?”
“We have a meeting with Dijkstra in Novigrad in a week's time, and I plan to…” he swallowed hard when the words became momentarily stuck in his throat. It took another second for him to gather his courage to speak, and the slight tremble in his voice was immediately noticeable.
“I plan to spend the night with Iorveth in one of the inns the night before. But we need someone to cover us.”
The white wolf seemed to grow even paler and his lips pressed together in contemplation.
“You know that I have enhanced senses.”
“I know, but I need to make sure that no one catches us. Not the Scoia'tael, Blue Stripes, Dijkstra’s spies, Redanian spies, any Nilfgaardian-”
“Alright, alright, I get it. You just need to make sure that everyone thinks that I invited you two for a drink and make sure that no one is listening in.”
“I know I’m asking a lot of you, but you’re the only one I can trust in this situation. I haven’t… Iorveth and I don’t have any other opportunities. I can’t even hold his hand without worrying that someone is watching.”
Geralt stared blankly at him and Roche’s heart began to pump harder. His worry must have shown on his face, for the witcher immediately sighed and shook his head.
“Come to the Chameleon. I’ll get you guys a suite. With a wall to separate the living area and the bedroom.”
Roche looked up at him and down a few times, wondering first if Geralt had misspoke, and then if he had misheard. When the witcher said nothing and shrugged, Roche finally accepted it with a nod.
“Thanks, Geralt. Drinks are on me,” he muttered and hung his head a little. Embarrassment was beginning to burn his cheeks.
“Don’t mention it. I’ll see you soon.”
<center>_________________________</center>
“Why are we here so early when Geralt only wanted to see us after sundown,” Iorveth whispered as they passed the guards that almost ripped their papers in half. Roche had smooth-talked his way in and Iorveth was impressed, even though he didn't let it show.
They had set aside their armour and entered the city dressed as merchants: Roche in a nondescript outfit that let him blend in with the rest of the nobles, and Iorveth draped in a cloak that obscured his elven features.
The sun was nowhere near setting when they arrived in the city. Roche had intended to take him on a date around the city, but didn’t want to admit it.
“I didn’t want to disappoint Geralt by being late.”
“Gwynbleidd would have understood.”
“Well, since we’re already here, we might as well explore the city. I heard of a tavern along the docks with an elven cook. Would you like to go there?”
The mention of food changed Iorveth’s expression immediately and Roche suppressed his laughter.
They dined at the Golden Sturgeon, where Iorveth immediately received preferential treatment from a redhead with freckles (it's Bea btw). She made sure to seat them in a relatively hidden corner and Roche could see the elf progressively relax as his shoulders began to sag. He even spotted the hints of a smile dancing on his lips when she put some strange fish dish in front of him.
Just when Roche thought that Iorveth was incapable of enjoying himself even more, he became increasingly pliant when they sat down at the Chameleon for a pint while a band played in the background. Roche didn't understand the first thing about music, but his two mugs of ale were enough to get him to keep his reservations.
Besides, he had something really cute to look at.
The elf's cloak was finally down and he could see the tips of his pointed ears twitch with every beat of the drum. He thought about how nice it would have been to pin him down to the bed and toy with his ears. His eyes trailed across the elf’s neck. If they didn’t have anywhere to be tomorrow, he would have left bite marks across that smooth skin.
<em>Mine,</em> he thought, and he wanted the world to know once all this was over.
“You play the recorder don’t you,” Roche asked out of the blue. Their eyes met and Iorveth was slightly startled by the intensity of his gaze, but he didn’t back down.
“Yeah. There’s been too much going on recently and I haven’t had the chance to though.”
“You can practice with mine tonight.”
“Vernon,” Iorveth warned with a glare, and then quickly glanced around the room to see if anyone was within earshot. There wasn’t, but the tension in his body didn’t leave.
“I could polish yours all night too, you know.”
The elf flinched and could see the pink develop along the tops of Iorveth’s high cheekbones and the tips of his ear. Past his flustered expression however, there was a particular heat blossoming in his eyes. Roche didn’t let up, his curiosity driving him to see just how much he could take it.
“My carrying case is a bit small, but I’m sure yours will fit in with a bit of a shove."
This time, Iorveth couldn't resist the urge to push back. Dandelion's tavern was filled with his regulars who were deep in their own conversations, and they were just talking about music, right?
"So you admit that my instrument is bigger."
"Well the quality of the instrument doesn't matter if the musician has no idea how to handle it."
"I think we've proven that I'm the better player though."
"Our last few encounters haven't exactly been skewed in my favour and I still managed."
"There is no fairness in music and in battle. You should know this, <em>Commander</em>."
The way Iorveth said the word made his mouth go dry.
Now <em>that</em> was truly unfair, and his [banana] agreed. He was seconds away from tugging Iorveth upstairs when the doors swung open and in stepped the white wolf.
"Geralt!" he called out and waved a hand.
"Nice to see you both. I hope you didn't wait long."
The witcher took a few steps towards them, sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose. He had this resigned look about him and Roche immediately knew that he could smell their arousal.
"Let's drink in my room," Geralt suggested and grabbed four mugs of ale from a passing waitress. She protested at first, but nodded and flashed him a huge smile when she saw who he was.
They headed up the stairs and Roche had to try very hard not to openly stare at Iorveth's ass. It [eggplant] and he had no choice but to stare ruefully at the ground.
As soon as he saw that the second floor was empty, he reached out and pinched the elf's behind. Iorveth jumped at the touch and almost spilled his own mug of ale, and Roche was treated to one of those embarrassed glares. They quietly ascended another flight of stairs and neared the room, and Roche could feel his heart race and his breathing grow ragged.
Finally, after two weeks of planning and trying to fit all the pieces together, it was happening. It had been a year since Dol Blathanna and months since they started seeing each other, and Roche was raring to go.
Geralt opened the door to a suite on the top floor that was exactly as he described: a small living area with a table for four and a few sparse furnishings, though it was far more comfortable than the arrangements he was used to. Partitioned off by a wall and door was a bedroom mostly occupied by a sizable bed and more pillows than he could count. A decision made by the bard, no doubt.
As soon as the door closed behind them and they set down their mugs, Roche grabbed Iorveth’s collar and shoved him towards the bedroom. The elf looked mortified and nearly lost his footing, but he recovered within the span of a few steps. He grabbed Roche’s arms and plucked them off him, then tried to shove him backwards but Roche held his ground.
“What the fuck, Roche?!”
Roche took a step back and considered Iorveth’s anger. The elf's gaze had grown sharp and alert, but he was mostly just shocked at the audacity of his actions. He just flashed him a devious smile and was returned a twitch of confusion.
“What? Didn’t you always like roughhousing me on the forest floor?”
“Not in front of Gwyn-”
Roche barely gave Iorveth a chance to answer. He charged forward, wrapped an arm around the elf’s waist, and threw him straight into bed. Iorveth went flying into the mattress with a groan and Roche climbed straight into his lap. Heavy footsteps thudded behind them and stopped by the door.
“Oil’s on the nightstand. Don’t get the sheets dirty and take your shoes off before you get in bed dammit. I can’t afford to pay for new sheets too.”
“Gwynbleidd, what is the meaning of this.”
“Just a little gift from me to the both of you. Have fun, Iorveth. Just try not to make too much noise.”
The door behind them closed and Iorveth just stared blankly at Roche, who was already taking off his top. No words came out of the elf’s gaping mouth, so Roche blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“Enjoying the date so far?”
“Explain yourself Roche, I’m not-”
The elf had to pause when Roche began grinding in his lap. It worked until it didn't, and Iorveth grabbed onto his hips to still them. Roche just wanted to get to the fucking already, but the elf refused to be distracted no matter how much he tried.
“Did you plan all this? Coming to my camp to pick me up. Picking flowers for me along the path. Bringing me to the tavern for dinner. Having drinks. This fake meeting with Gwynbleidd.”
“Of course. When else was I going to get the opportunity to take you out on a date?”
Something in Iorveth cracked visibly and Roche went dead still with nervousness. The other lowered his gaze and Roche cupped his face in his hands, desperate for his elf to be okay. He stroked his cheek gently and tilted his head up to try and get a better look at that unreadable expression. This was the opposite of what he hoped would happen and worry began to pool in his stomach.
“Hey, hey. What’s wrong. Talk to me,” he urged and placed a peck on the scarred cheek. There was no answer, so he continued fluttering kisses along his jawline. He felt like his world might come crashing down at any moment and resisted the urge to salvage the situation before he knew what was going on.
It felt like Iorveth was cycling through a thousand and one emotions. He cupped the elf's face in his hands and pulled back, where he was greeted by a vulnerability he had never seen before. The other had this dazed and awed look in his eyes, and if Roche wasn't so flustered by the sudden change of pace, he might he caught his surrender.
“Vernon…”
“I’m here. What is it? You can tell me.”
“It’s just...overwhelming.”
“In a good way or bad way?”
“Good way.”
Roche released the breath he didn’t realise he had been holding. It was nice that the reaction was somewhat positive, but Roche’s poor heart couldn’t take the anticipation. Surprising Iorveth was turning out to be quite bad for his health.
“Well. Have you enjoyed yourself?”
“Mmn.”
“It's okay. We'll take it at your pace.”
“I just... need some time to process this. I’ve never been treated like this before. It's overwhelming.”
“Well you deserve it. Take the time you need, it’s okay,” Roche encouraged again and placed another peck on his nose as he undid the bandanna that obscured half his face.
This really wasn’t how he thought the evening would go, but he had to admit that it was nice. At the core of it, all he really wanted was to be able to kiss and hold Iorveth intimately without fear of someone catching them. Now they were in bed and there was someone trustworthy to watch their backs, he supposed he had achieved his goal. Maybe they could just hold off the fucking for a while more.
“Do you want to take a nap with me,” Roche offered after they'd sat in silence for a while.
“Yeah… I would like that very much.”
Iorveth tried to take off his cloak, but Roche shushed him and pushed his hands aside. The elf had a blank look on his face and hurt momentarily flashed across his eye.
"Let me," Roche rushed to salvage as he pulled loose the strings on his cloak.
“I can undress myself you know.”
“I know you can, but just let me pamper you a bit more.”
The tips of Iorveth's ears were bright red and Roche suppressed the urge to tease him about it. Slowly, he helped the elf strip down to his underwear and slipped him beneath the sheets. Then he took off his own garments and joined him, snuggling up to that warm and slender body that seemed to fit so perfectly with his.
Yeah, he could wait.
#cut content#iorveth x roche#iorveth#vernon roche#witcher 2#fanfiction#fanfic#ao3#archive of our own#drabbles#it took years
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A Comprehensive Analysis of Eustass 'Captain' Kid
I've been wanting to write this for awhile now as Kid is undoubtedly one of my favourite characters in One Piece. Also, I'm majoring in Psychology so I can't help but think about why I love his character so much.
Disclaimer: As we all know, Kid doesn't have much screentime so it's quite difficult to understand his character completely. So, whatever you read will be my own intepretation of his character (based on the little amount of scenes that he has). Of course, you don't have to agree with it but it might give you a bit of a different perspective!
So, withour further ado, let's begin!
*P.s I'll try to make it flow in but it might end up really messy so I apologize for that*
Note: NOT SPOILER FREE!!!
1. Assumptions
I guess I'll begin with some of the common assumptions of his character based on posts/videos I've seen about his character. They frequently refer to Kid as 'cruel' or 'heartless'. Basically, there are many negative remarks about his character that makes him seem like a total psychopath.
Their reasoning for this would be because:
- He mentioned that he would kill anyone would mocked him
- His high bounty = He's notorious & violent
- The way he acts makes him come off as a bloodthirsty pirate
From another standpoint, I can see why people might think that way about him. The way he speaks and acts does make him look villainous. In addition, his primary role in One Piece is to be Luffy's rival. (I'll expand on this point later.) So, one might think that his morals would contrast Luffy. Whereas Luffy is the kind and benevolent pirate, Kid is the 'bad guy' who is cruel and heartless. The question is, though Kid is rival character, why does that necessarily mean that he would be a bad guy? I strongly disagree that Kid is a psychopath and that he is heartless. Firstly, the term 'psychopath' shouldn't be used so loosely. A true psychopath would have no regard for other's feelings which is not true of Kid because he cares very much for his crew. On the other hand, Doflamingo would be a good example of a psychopath. Next, even if Kid WERE a psychopath, not all psychopaths are violent. So it'd be nice if people stopped misrepresenting psychopaths.
Now, if there is one thing I learned in psychology, is that people tend to make assumptions about a person's actions as part of their personal dispositions rather than because of situation. This would be the Fundamental Attribution Error (FAE). What do I mean by this? Let's take a look at Kid's scenario. He mentioned killing people who mocked his dream. Killing people would make people automatically assume that Kid is 'violent'. But here is a different perspective, what if 'mocking him' had meant that they tried to start a fight with him? Provoking other people repeatedly would cause anybody to get angry. There are many other characters who acts this way as well. Sure, Luffy doesn't go as far as to kill them but I'm sure that many other characters do because they are PIRATES.
In contrast, I think of this situation as Kid standing up for himself. He believes in himself and he would beat anyone up who tells him otherwise. If you think about it, Luffy is kind of similar because he ends up fighting anyone who tries to stop him from attaining his goal.
That is pretty much all the assumptions that people make about his character. It's sad how they don't delve deeper but fret not!! I still have more to say.
2. Pre-Timeskip vs Timeskip Changes/Growth as a character
During Pre-timeskip, Kid is seen as overconfident. I actually agree with this statement quite a lot. His high bounty was a result of his reckless behaviour. He could easily triumph over anyone before the timeskip. That was when he started to become a little too full of himself. Consequently, he suffered heavy losses. His arm was taken by Shanks, his crew was utterly defeated by Kaido (curse you Apoo) and his reputation as the top supernova was instantly lost to Luffy. His true character development was in the Wano arc where we see how he starts to take a step back and re-evaluate his situation. The most obvious evidence for this was when he got captured in Udon. He was quiet (before Luffy's arrival) and deep in thought. So many things had happened to him, you could even argue that he was feeling slightly lost and helpless (not depressed) because he was utterly defeated. The motivation and drive he had in pre-timeskip was shattered- Until Luffy arrived of course. When Luffy arrived, he was battered and bruised but he was still ready to fight. Kid, who saw how Luffy still had his fighting spirit, was somehow inspired to keep on fighting. It's almost as if Luffy is Kid's drive to be stronger.
So, what does this all say about Kid?
I think that this makes his character believable as it can represent real life. There are some points in our lives where we could be the greatest but, sometimes, life can be pretty cruel too. If you get too cocky or overconfident, the world will punish you. I saw a comment that says Kid is Luffy but without the plot armour. That is very true. Kid isn't perfect. He made tons of crappy decisions and dealt which the consequences. I'd say he's as reckless as Luffy, perhaps LESS reckless than Luffy but he suffers more than Luffy does. While Luffy could bask in glory, all Kid got was the short end of the stick. I think that is the reason why I find Kid such an appealing character- because its an accurate representation of real life. Sometimes you can try as hard as someone else but you won't always get the spolight.
The other appealing aspect is his persistence. He made mistakes and bad decisions but he knows that he can't undo them and has to move on. Kid isn't as lucky as Luffy because he didn't have someone like Rayleigh to train him so, he had to put in more effort somehow. The main point is, he had to learn everything the hard way. Yet, he still strives to be the best which is very befitting of a rival character.
3. interactions & Personality
Another thing I frequently see when people Kid and Luffy is that: People say that while Kid makes enemies, Luffy makes allies which is why he has so much support from others around him. I was thinking about this a lot and I can't help but disgaree. I saw another post where they mentioned Kid's MBTI personality is INFJ which made me think even more about that statement. From here on, I will include several headcanons about his character as well.
Let me offer you a different perspective. Perhaps Kid isn't good at expressing his feelings. The way he speaks may come off as cold which makes other people dislike him because they think he is rude whereas he simply doesn't know how to communicate with others very well. Luffy is no doubt an extrovert, seeing how he is easily able to interact with others. Kid on the other hand, if he is an introvert, it could be an explaination to why he doesn't have many interactions with others. I don't see him as someone who's very 'sociable'. So he could experience some difficulty when communicating his feelings. He's shown to be closer to his crew more than anyone else. He is deeply respected by his crewmates because he is sensitive to their needs as well. He isn't the tyrant that everyone paints him to be, he earned that respect by first respecting his crewmates. Also, he would essentially DIE for any of his crewmates. This part is quite self explainatory if you've read the chapter where they revealed what happened to Kid and Killer in Wano.
I just want to add that while Killer suffered so much in Wano, imagine how much it hurt Kid to see his first mate suffer and how he couldn't do anything about it. The expression on his face is perfectly the anger he had towards Kaido, Apoo and more importantly, HIMSELF for not being strong enough. Yet, people call him heartless though he would literally die for Killer.
But anyways, Kid is an excellent listener and he cares very deeply for people he is close to. I just think he's bad at communicating. Look at the way he talks to Luffy. In Wano, you can see how Kid actually does LIKE Luffy as a rival. He just has trouble expressing himself. Anyways, this is just a headcanon but I think that he's rather sensitive to other's feelings- Especially when it comes to his crew. I really like the idea that he's an INFJ because he seems more like the 'advocate' type of character. I still think he makes a very good leader but his approach would contrast Luffy's.
4. Intelligence
I could probaly go on forever about why I love Kid but this is another thing that I see about Kid and kind of annoys me. I'm not sure why everyone seems to think he's a dumbass. Like REALLY. I think he's pretty intelligent. He even kept tabs on the whole SMILE situation and Doflamingo and planned the alliance. He IS intelligent but his recklessness just makes him seem like an idiot.
Kid isn't perfect, he is flawed just like a real human being would be. By no means is he a GOOD person but I don't think he is as 'cruel' or 'bad' as people paint him to be. He cares a lot for his crew. He is very driven by his own personal values and he wouldn't 'change' for anyone. He believes in himself and if anyone tells him otherwise, he would simply beat them up. He isn't happy go lucky like Luffy, he is much deeper than that. He would consider his options and plan- to a certain extent because he is also quite idealistic. Hence, the reason why I feel like his character is such an interesting one is because there is a lot of opportunity for him to grow and stray away from stereotypical anime character traits. His character is believable because his personality is realistic, it could reflect a real human being.
TLDR: Stop sleeping on Kid.
With that, thanks for coming to my ted talk.
Anyways, that's it for now! I'll make a part 2 if I feel like I want to add something. If people like this, I'll consider making another analysis for other characters. Currently I have Law, Ace and Sabo planned in mind but we'll see how it goes.
Thanks for reading!
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