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balioc · 4 years

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A Taxonomy of Magic

This is a purely and relentlessly thematic/Doylist set of categories.

The question is: What is the magic for, in this universe that was created to have magic?

Or, even better: What is nature of the fantasy that’s on display here?

Because it is, literally, fantasy. It’s pretty much always someone’s secret desire.

(NOTE: “Magic” here is being used to mean “usually actual magic that is coded as such, but also, like, psionics and superhero powers and other kinds of Weird Unnatural Stuff that has been embedded in a fictional world.”)

(NOTE: These categories often commingle and intersect. I am definitely not claiming that the boundaries between them are rigid.)

I. Magic as The Gun That Can Be Wielded Only By Nerds

Notable example: Dungeons & Dragons

Of all the magic-fantasies on offer, I think of this one as being the clearest and most distinctive. It’s a power fantasy, in a very direct sense. Specifically, it’s the fantasy that certain mental abilities or personality traits -- especially “raw intelligence” -- can translate directly into concrete power. Being magical gives you the wherewithal to hold your own in base-level interpersonal dominance struggles.

(D&D wizardry is “as a science nerd, I can use my brainpower to blast you in the face with lightning.” Similarly, sorcery is “as a colorful weirdo, I can use my force of personality to blast you in the face with lightning,” and warlockry is “as a goth/emo kid, I can use my raw power of alienation to blast you in the face with lightning.”)

You see this a lot in media centered on fighting, unsurprisingly, and it tends to focus on the combative applications and the pure destructive/coercive force of magic (even if magic is notionally capable of doing lots of different things). It often presents magic specifically as a parallel alternative to brawn-based fighting power. There’s often an unconscious/reflexive trope that the heights of magic look like “blowing things up real good” / “wizarding war.”

II. Magic as The Numinous Hidden Glory of the World

Notable examples: Harry Potter, The Chronicles of Narnia, H.P. Lovecraft’s Dream Cycle

The point of magic, in this formulation, is that it is special. It is intrinsically wondrous and marvelous. Interacting with it puts you in a heightened-state-of-existence. It is -- ultimately -- a metaphor for The Secret Unnameable Yearnings of Your Soul, the glorious jouissance that always seems just out of reach.

It doesn’t so much matter how the magic actually functions, or even what outcomes it produces. The important thing is what magic is, which is...magical.

This is how you get works that are all about magic but seem entirely disinterested in questions like “what can you achieve with magic?,” “how does the presence of magic change the world?,” etc. One of the major ways, anyway.

The Numinous Hidden Glory fantasy often revolves around an idea of the magic world, the other-place where everything is drenched in jouissance. [Sometimes the magic world is another plane of existence, sometimes it’s a hidden society within the “real world,” doesn’t matter.] The real point of magic, as it’s often presented, is being in that magic world; once you’re there, everything is awesome, even if the actual things you’re seeing and doing are ordinary-seeming or silly. A magic school is worlds better than a regular school, because it’s magic, even if it’s got exactly the same tedium of classes and social drama that you know from the real world.

Fantasies of this kind often feature a lot of lush memorable detail that doesn’t particularly cohere in any way. It all just adds to the magic-ness.

III. Magic as the Atavistic Anti-Civilizational Power

Notable examples: A Song of Ice and Fire, Godzilla

According to the terms of this fantasy, the point of magic is that it doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t make sense within the logic of civilized human thought, anyway. It is nature and chaos given concrete form; it is the thing that tears away at the systems that we, in our [Promethean nobility / overweening hubris], try to build.

There’s not a baked-in value judgment here. This kind of magic can be presented as good, bad, or some of both. Same with civilization, for that matter.

It’s often presented as Old Myths and Folkways that have More Truth and Power Than Seems Reasonable. Narratively, it often serves as a dramatized version of the failure of episteme, and of the kind of entropic decay that in real life can take centuries to devour empires and ideologies.

This kind of magic is almost always the province of savages, actual inhuman monsters, or (occasionally) the very downtrodden.

(I think it is enormously telling that in A Song of Ice and Fire -- a series that is jammed full of exotic cults and ancient half-forgotten peoples, all of whom have magic that seems to work and beliefs that at least touch on mysterious truths -- only the Westerosi version of High Medieval Catholicism, the religion to which most of the people we see notionally adhere, is actually just a pack of empty lies.)

IV. Magic as an Overstuffed Toybox

Notable examples: Naruto, JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure

Or, sometimes, we care about what magic actually does. More than that -- sometimes we want to see magic doing really interesting things, and then other magic intersecting with it in ways that are even more interesting.

The fantasy here, in simplest terms, is “magic can achieve any arbitrary cool effect.” There doesn’t tend to be an overarching system that explains how it’s all supposed to come together, or if there is, it tends to be kind of lame and hand-wavey -- a rigorous system of Magic Physics, delineating the limits of the possible, would get in the way of all the cool effects we want to show!

Once again, this shows up a lot in combat-heavy narratives. Less with the genericized D&D-style “magic is a fist that can punch harder than your regular meat fist,” and more with people throwing weird and wacky powers at each other in order to show how those powers can be used creatively to overcome opposition. Sometimes, instead of combat, you get magicians using their cool-effects magic to MacGuyver their way out of problems or even trying to resolve large-scale social problems. Issues of magic usage within the narrative being “fair” or “unfair” or “cheesy” are important here in ways that they generally aren’t elsewhere, since the fantasy on offer comes close to being a game.

(Ratfic often falls into this category.)

V. Magic as Alternate-Universe Science

Notable examples: the Cosmere books

This covers most of what gets called “hard fantasy.” The fantasy on offer is a pretty straightforward one -- “magic has actual rules, you can learn them, and once you’ve learned them you can make predictions and achieve outcomes.” It’s puzzle-y in the way that the previous fantasy was game-y. It’s often a superstimulus for the feeling of learning a system in the way that video game grinding is a superstimulus for the feeling of rewarding labor.

The magic effects on offer tend to be less ridiculous and “broken” than toybox magic, because any logic you can use to achieve a ridiculous effect is going to influence the rest of the magic system, and special cases that aren’t grounded in sufficiently-compelling logic will ruin the fantasy.

Not super common.

VI. Magic as Psychology-Made-Real

Notable examples: Revolutionary Girl Utena, Persona

This kind of magic makes explicit, and diagetic, what is implicit and metatextual in most fantasy settings. The magic is an outgrowth of thought, emotion, and belief. Things have power in the world because they have power in your head. The things that seem real in the deepest darkest parts of your mind are actually real.

This is where you get inner demons manifested as actual demons (servile or hostile or anything in between), swords forged from literal hope, dungeons and labyrinths custom-tailored to reflect someone’s trauma, etc.

The fantasy, of course, is that your inner drama matters.

My personal favorite.

VII. Magic as Pure Window Dressing

Notable examples: later Final Fantasy games, Warhammer 40K

This one is weird; it doesn’t really make sense on its own, only metatextually. I think of its prevalence as an indicator of the extent to which fantasy has become a cultural staple.

The fantasy on offer in these works is that you are in a fantasy world that is filled with fantasy tropes. And that’s it.

Because the important thing here is that the magic doesn’t really do anything at all, or at least, it doesn’t do anything that non-magic can’t do equally well. It doesn’t even serve as an indication that Things are Special, because as presented in-setting, magic isn’t Special. Being a wizard is just a job, like being a baker or a tailor or something -- or, usually, like being a soldier, because the magic on offer is usually a very-simple kind of combat magic. And unlike in D&D, it’s not like magic is used only or chiefly by a particularly noteworthy kind of person. It’s just...there.

The great stories of the world, in these works, don’t tend to feature magic as anything more than a minor element. The point is to reassure the audience that this is the kind of world, the kind of story, that has magic.

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Thoughts? Critiques? Other categories to suggest?

#media analysis

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yridenergyridenergy · 3 years

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Ongaku to Hito 2018/11 - 京 interview

If anyone is curious as to why I do not post word-for-word translations usually, here you go hahah. It is so horrible but hey, it was a short interview and not all of the translated sentences are awkward, so perhaps you can still gain something from reading this. You can still sense the poignant nature of Kyo’s statements. Somebody asked me to expand on the notes that I had posted back then.

- What have you heard from people who listened to the new album (The Insulated World)?

I haven't heard anything. In the first place, there are probably no people around me who have listened to it outside of interviewers.

- Don't you care about how the listener feels or reacts?

These days I don't care. It can't be helped if you care about that one by one (?). I just consulted with Kaoru-kun and asked him when to work on the next single.

- You're too quick *laughs*.

I want to move forward to the next (project).

- You talked about the whole album in the latest PHY volume, but now I want to focus on the theme of the new album. I think this is the first time that your feelings are expressed so specifically.

It wasn't a conscious decision, but maybe this is the first time that the album has such a high concentration of those songs. Up until now, albums maybe had two or three songs like that, but it isn't a first.

- Not only the words, but the content that you sing remains consistent.

Up until now, if an album had 10 songs, I would write them with different messages and perspectives. It was the story type and balance that I was aware of in the albums. Now, it's come to feel clever.

- You wanted to leave more to the instinct?

That's right. I also like the pictures that I draw with more scrutiny, but isn't it more powerful to follow the momentum of a single brush stroke? Is that the kind of thing I want to do now?

- Which type do you think is yours? Do you do it with concentration or do you leave it to the instinct?

I don't know, I can't view myself objectively. I defer to how I feel in the moment. Sometimes, I want to do it in detail and sometimes I want to do it in a single stroke. I don't know if it's a cycle or why it changes.

- You can't control that sensation.

Or rather than saying that I can't control it, I don't think that I would do it. Usually, after such a career, people in the music business think "that's my individuality" and they settle into things that they are comfortable with. But I don't like that. I feel like I'm alive by sticking to something called "my individuality".

- I think that there are people who think that "the strength is consistent from beginning to end".

I think that it's cool if someone sticks to that personality, but I don't want to be that way, because I'm not satisfied with myself at all.

- You also mentioned that in the previous interview.

Yeah. My anxiety towards myself only increases as I get older... I think that I would be very desperate if I met myself when I started playing in bands. Something like: "Huh? Seriously? Is that so?"

- Is it that painful?

Maybe if I looked at myself now, I would think that I stopped being in bands. Saying: "It's that tough? Well then, let's find something else."

- However, this new album contains poetry from a person who suffers from such anxiety and despair. If it were someone in their 20s, it could still feel unripe, but it's a mature adult who is still suffering like that because he cannot recognize himself.

That's right.

- So we can come to terms with ourselves somewhere, live normally. But since it's Kyo-kun, you can't.

That's right, I can't. For example, I think that a lot of our fans are also getting older together, everyone will grow up. Whether it's at work or in a home environment, growing up in such situations, we don't say that we are worried or that it's tough.

- You simply start coming to terms with it.

Looking around, what I'm singing right now, I don't think that it can be understood very much. Like, "Is that person still saying this?" Actually, when I've overcome that kind of self-consciousness, the lyrics that I write are better. I'm sure that it will connect with adult fans. But I think... to me it remains impossible.

- I think that it's understandable that fans sing here enough.

No, I think that there are various people. I think that those who can't connect will ever connect at all. So if I wanted to reach those people from the beginning, I wouldn't have written (those lyrics).

- You're not looking for empathy, from the beginning.

That's correct. As early as the first phrase of the first song, could it be done for real? I couldn't do things such as aim at the bottom or seek for people to sympathize with me. You can only sell yourself. As that feeling passes through the years, it becomes sharper. It feels like my real self is getting cornered more and more.

- How do you feel about people other than yourself who produce music and lyrics similar to yours?

I wonder... I don't know, but I'm probably happy. There are a lot of people who do what I do, but it's all fabricated or similar to lies. But if there's someone who really does it with pure feelings like me, I'd say "I wasn't the only one" and we would connect. Even if it's a misunderstanding.

- Maybe if you find someone with an existence similar to yours, you won't deny yourself that much. But you haven't been able to find such a person. That's why you wrote those songs in the album (The Insulated World).

Isn't that so?

- In other words, what's revealed in those songs is that you feel lonely within yourself. And you're giving up and coming to terms that it's something that will never go away.

The loneliness... It will never disappear. That's my biggest problem. No matter what I do or with who, I'm always lonely. I think that everyone feels some loneliness, but I wonder if everyone is living with loneliness like this? I'm always lonely like that.

- You have many feelings of being the only one lonely like that?

I don't know. Everyone has felt lonely and I think that they may have experienced something similar. But, everyone... Do they keep living with such loneliness? Do you hide your loneliness and take a peace-sign photo or something? That, it seems that you have a strong heart. Because personally, I can't do it.

- You think that this kind of person is strong?

I think that they're stronger. Even if they are lonely, they laugh and try hard to move forward. I really admire them.

- I don't know if it's strength, because they might not see or feel that loneliness.

You can't pretend not to see it. It's in here *hits chest* all the time. Even if I try not to think about loneliness, right here *chest* that's the scene that can be found. It's tough.

- To compensate these feelings, people could lean toward drinking alcohol, finding a girl, or going to live shows. In Kyo-kun's case, how do you fulfill this?

My job.

- Hahahahaha

Since you know how much work I do, I think that you can see (what I mean).

- But work... It can be lonely too *laughs*.

But at the moment I feel like I'm alive only by working, or being involved in bands and music. So I'm still happy with this kind of work.

- It's really like you said.

When I say my work, isn't it remaining in shape and expressing myself? So only when I'm working, the loneliness is filled. I can't do that elsewhere. Even if I go hang out with someone or something like that, nothing remains... The feeling of emptiness afterward when I come back and am alone again is out of this world. Somehow all alone.

- By the way, it's something that you said before. Even if you hang out or drink with everyone (in the band) after, you feel yourself becoming cold.

Right. By the way, I went out to eat with the other band members for the first time in a long time. We've known each other for a long time, but me, I didn't know what to talk about.

- Why?

I don't know. But when I eat with a band member whom I've known for 20 years, it's like that. Everyone was talking in a friendly manner. Somehow... I'm jealous. In those times, when I see people who are having fun, I feel very sad. Like, why can't I just enjoy myself?

- You can't force yourself to enjoy it?

It would be fun if that was possible. But I can't do it, at all.

- What do you feel would happen to you if you didn't have a way to express yourself?

Hm... What would happen. I don't know at all. Would I not be doing strings of 100 posts on Twitter a day *laughs*?

- Hahahahaha

I feel like I would spew out all the bad things. But I don't have to do that because of my work. I do almost everything from home. So, that's going in the right direction for me. I'd say it's not bad at all. But, the loneliness is here all the time. It will never disappear.

- I was wondering if you would get some balance of mind by doing sukekiyo, but what would you say about that yourself?

Due to the wider range of expression (more songs and different atmospheres), I think it's really good because the songs can be released immediately. But... unlike in DIR, all the members beside me are juniors, so I bear a sense of responsibility, right? I found it a little difficult.

- Right. I thought that you would evolve and find balance by carrying the band sukekiyo and find it easier to live.

It doesn't change.

- Yeah. That's what you are trying to convey in this album, trying to find people like that, especially with the song Followers.

I agree. For example... If I say anything about myself, I suppose that there is one person who understands everything. It seems like I'm going to be the least hurt by going to a place where no one knows me and that I live self-sufficiently, like with that person. I feel it's the only way to live the happiest though...

- But I think that there isn't anyone like that.

I know that. Like the sense of unity in a live show, I'm always looking for something that seems to be visible and invisible. I knew it was an illusion a long time ago. Even though I understand that, I don't want to give up. If I give up there... I feel like I would break.

- That's why you've got songs like Followers and Ranunculus here.

Right. No matter how much despair I sing, I still want to see the light. I want to sing towards that. If we stay only in the darkness, we wouldn't be able to move forward anymore.

- Both songs are (laid) bare, aren't they? Up until this point, I think that you were getting ready to make songs on such innocent feelings.

But in order to make people believe, isn't it necessary for me to have laid myself bare so far? If you try to hide it even a little, it wouldn't be believable. Of course, by exposing myself so far, I'm scared to get hurt in the end. If I open the lid, then maybe only one person is waiting for me there. But for me, that one person is important.

- You've really always been looking for that one person, isn't that right?

If really, I can convey 100% of my thoughts to that one person, then I don't mind if someone else attacks me. Feelings exempt of impurities, that's what's important to me.

- That person is why... But I want you to be happy.

But if I become happy, there would no longer be an artist named Kyo. So... It's a cruel world. *laughs*

#yeah some of my initial notes were not very accurate upon review #I am so bad especially with the lack of pronouns #having to guess whether they mean I you they or we #no accuracy claimed #Dir en grey #京 #Kyo #interview #translation #The Insulated World #ongaku to hito #音楽と人 #magazine

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kiingocreative · 3 years

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The Structure of Story is now available! Check it out on Amazon, via the link in our bio, or at https://kiingo.co/book

Every author starting out will know how important reviews are. If you’re yet to be convinced, here are some fun facts about reviews*:

1. 88% of consumers trust reviews as much as personal recommendations.

2. 72% of consumers will take action after reading a positive review.

3. Positive reviews tell Amazon and Google you’re worth ranking and can boost search results for your book by feeding into SEO (reviews account for almost 10% of total search ranking factors).

So reviews aren’t just a nice to have — they’re critical to the success of a book.

Now, amongst the writers community, we talk a lot about receiving reviews, but less so about giving reviews. I enjoy writing book reviews immensely, because it makes me think about what I’m reading on a different level, and forces me to learn how to articulate that opinion. This is actually one of the main reasons why I got into professional BETA reading.

I was asked recently how I structure my book reviews (all of which can be found on my blog), so here you have it: all the secrets to how I go about writing book reviews, along with some concrete examples!

Start With Why.

The most important question to ask yourself before you even start writing a review is this:

Why do people read book reviews?

In essence, they want to know whether the book is good, what it’s about, and — more importantly — whether they should read it. They generally like some context and detail to back the review so that they feel it’s genuine and trustworthy.

If you can keep in mind what people generally want to get out of a book review, this will help you keep your review relevant and useful. It’ll help you figure out what’s worth including and what isn’t. If in doubt, ask yourself what you would want to read about in a review when you’re trying to decide whether or not to buy a book.

Some Key Questions.

Before you start writing, you also need to ponder a few things. It may not always feel natural to reflect on a book on this level of detail — it didn’t for me at first. I either liked a book, or I loved it, or I didn’t, but I rarely spent a lot of time critically thinking about why I did or didn’t like a read.

If you’re also finding this uncomfortable at first, I say stick with it. I found it extremely interesting to make myself think these things through. It’s made my writing so much better, because I’ve developed that objective evaluation muscle that activates even when I’m with my own work. It’s also made me much better at forming and formulating an opinion, which is something I didn’t use to be good at!

Here are some questions to start with before you start on your review:

• Did you like the book?

• What did you like about it?

• What didn’t you like about it?

• Are there any themes that were particularly well handled?

• Were there any characters you liked above others, and why?

• Would you recommend the book to a friend?

These few questions will start shaping your view of what you’ve read and provide the main elements of your review.

To take your critical reading to the next level, you may want to ponder the various elements of the story and the writing as a whole. Think about:

• The plot / storyline — is it strong? Consistent? Original? Enticing? Are there gaps?

• The characters and character arcs — are all characters well developed? Multi-layered? Do they make sense? Are they relatable?

• The key themes — what are some recurring topics through the story? Are they well handled?

• The pace and timeline — is the story progressing at a good pace? Where does it lag? Does the timeline make sense?

• The writing style — how was the writing style? Did it flow well? Did it feel unique or original?

• The dialogues — did they feel natural? Were they believable? Were they engaging? Did they add to the overall story?

• The editing — how was the editing? Were there any typos or formatting errors?

Example Review Outline

Once you’ve spent some time with those initial questions, you’ll find it gives you the best part of your review content. At first, you may want to note down your answers to each of these. With time, you may find you can process these in your mind faster than you did before, and you don’t need so many notes. Whichever way is right for you, once you have this, you’re ready to start structuring your review.

I tend to use the following outline (though, of course, this isn’t the one and only way to write a review!):

1. Star Rating:

It’s most common in this day and age to include a rating in your review. There are talks out there about not leaving a rating on a book, because these can be extremely subjective — someone’s three-star rating may mean they loved the book but for others it’s a negative rating, some people don’t leave five-star reviews out of principle etc.

If you’re reviewing the book on Amazon and Goodreads however, you don’t have a choice but to pick a rating out of five stars. Have a think about how that rating system relates to you. For instance: would you leave five star ratings? What rating do you use for a book you liked versus a book you absolutely loved? What kind of book would warrant a low-rating? etc.

2. Opening:

Start with a short overview of what you thought of the book. This should give the reader a concise view of what you thought of the book, in two or three sentences. The idea is that, if they read only this opening part of the review, they should know your view on the matter.

Here’s an example opening paragraph I wrote for Heart of a Runaway Girl by Trevor Wiltzen:

‘Heart of a Runaway Girl is a breath of fresh air. As far as crime and murder investigation novels go, I only ever read Agatha Christie, so my standard is high. But this book did not disappoint.’

3. Synopsis:

The next section of the review is a short summary of the book, which should give the main elements of the plot. I tend to keep that part really short because I find that, if anyone wants to know the specifics, the book blurb the author so diligently wrote for the back cover is a much better place to learn more about that. Yes, you need to give a sense of what the book’s about, but it shouldn’t be the bulk of the review.

I think this is a matter of personal preference, I’ve seen reviews out there with a much longer synopsis section, but I always find myself skipping those bits to get to the nitty gritty of the review, which is what the person thought. There again, go back to the why — people who read reviews do so to find out whether or not they want to buy a book, so the more valuable pieces to help with that (in my view) are your opinions, more than an in-depth summary which they can find elsewhere.

For instance, when I reviewed Counter Ops by Jessica Scurlock, the second opus in the Pretty Lies series, I kept the synopsis paragraph to:

‘In Counter Ops, we meet a familiar duo, Ivy and Nixon, as they face the aftermath of the Elite Auction, and each endure its painful consequences. We follow their journey as they try to escape their fate and attempt to come to each other’s rescue — in more ways than one.’

4. Highlights:

The next part is what I call the ‘highlights’. This is where you talk about what you liked most about the book, or what you thought the strongest parts of the book were. This can focus on one element of the book (a character, a part of the plot, a theme etc.) or cover multiple elements.

See, for example, the highlights I picked for my review of Age of the Almek by Tara Lake:

‘I loved the author's ability to give every character their own voice and a distinct perspective on the world around them. I loved how involved I became with every character's fate and woes. I loved the precision with which the Almek world has been created, with such minuteness you can picture it down to the finest details.

My favourite part is the portrayal of the many facets of human nature, be it through the reactions of the masses to the barbaric ways of their rulers or the individual views of the protagonists. In every Almek citizen is a piece of the great puzzle that is humanity at large, and the author has a gift for writing it as raw and real as it gets.’

5. Mitigate your view:

Right after the highlights is where you’d add anything that mitigates your view. That’s anything that wasn’t quite as strong as you’d want it to be, or anything you weren’t a fan of.

You can skip this part if there’s nothing you didn’t like about the book — you don’t have to go nitpicking if nothing comes to mind. And it doesn’t have to be a bashing of the author and their work either. Keep it constructive and explain why you felt that way. There’s never a need for insults or expletives, and these wouldn’t enhance the quality of your review anyways. Formulating constructive criticism takes practice, and requires tact and subtlety. It’s a valuable skill to have if you’re willing to invest time in honing it.

Here’s how I phrased that part of the review for Crazy Rich Asians by Kevin Kwan:

‘But - and there's a but - my qualm with this book is that, for a story that revolves entirely around Nick and Rachel... There's actually very little Nick and Rachel in it!

Yes it's all 'about' them and it talks 'of' them loads, and we're told theyare happy together and want to be together... But it's all 'tell' and no 'show'. Their intimacy is sorely lacking, so I was left missing that added colour to convince me that they, in fact, do love each other. And I'm not talking saucy passages — I 'm talking about basic things suchas them actually talking to each other and spending time together.’

6. Conclusion:

The final part of the review is a short paragraph with closing remarks, such as a short summary of your view on the book, whether or not you recommend it or some indication of what readers the book may be for (e.g. ‘if you liked… you may like this book’).

When I reviewed Collision by Kristen Granata, I ended the review with:

‘Readers used to intricate, far-fetched romance plots may find this book too straightforward for their liking. In my mind, this is what makes the book's key strength: it's real and honest, it takes the reader through difficult situations and complex emotions beautifully, and that makes it all the more relatable.

A great read overall - and the moment I finished the last page, I was on Amazon ordering the next book in the series!’

How long should a review be?

I don’t think there should be a minimum or maximum word count to a review, though I find that mine end up being around 300 to 500 words. I feel this is a good length because as a reviewer this forces me to be concise and clear in expressing my opinions, and as a reader it’s long enough to give people a sense of the book, but not too long that they’ll drop off before the end.

Final Thoughts: To spoil or not to spoil?

My view on adding spoilers in your review is simple: DON’T.

Try as I might, I can’t fathom what could be gained from adding spoilers to a review. Once again: back to the why. Someone reads a review to find out if they want to read the book themselves. If you ruin the plot for them in that review, what’s the incentive to pick up the book?

It just hurts the author’s chances of making a book sale, and it robs a fellow reader of the joyful rollercoaster of finding out those plot twists at their own pace. Don’t do it, it’s just rude.

*Sources:

www.bookmarketingtools.com

www.searchenginewatch.com

www.dealeron.com

#writingtips #screenwriting #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writers #writing #writerblr #writing advice #writing community #writing resources

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griffin-wood · 3 years

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déjà vu

characters: nick and maia wiseman.

book: mind blind

summary: what if maia knows about Nick's decision of becoming an organ donor from the past, as the future brought the feeling of deja vu and maybe even the start of something new.

a/n: hi! this is my first ever mind blind fic (its somehow a what-if that maia knows about nick as an organ donor. This part of the story really been in my mind lately, and I am excited to explore it here!), and I am so excited about this! I apologize for any grammar mistakes, and I hope all of you enjoy it! 😊

'Nick was an organ donor.' Dr. Amari's voice echoes in her mind unlocking a memory from her past, a few years ago.

Maia's thoughts flew upon a time, years ago - before Aeon. She knows about Nick - he was an organ donor, she remembers at 17; she found the paperwork scattered upon the kitchen counter as Nick excused himself during the day, with the excuse of personal matters.

She remembers her desire of getting a cookie as a snack - a distraction that she needed before facing another pile of school work. There were papers were scattered, some were clipped perfectly, while others were disorganized. Maia lets out a sigh at the mess, as she decided to do him a favor, picking up the papers as her gaze follows a specific certificate - with the words 'organ donor' printed in black ink.

Her eyes went wide, somehow shock by this revelation. She knew what an organ donor is, she wasn't an idiot - but, Nick being one. It somehow brought a sudden uneasy feeling, as she decides to ditch her school work as her focus has shifted elsewhere; the damn papers.

Shocked wasn't a feeling anymore, as she absorbs all the information. Maia Wiseman is known for her fast-reader persona, manages to read every detail upon all the papers as she munch on every piece of cookies that is on the plate.

Her thoughts were swirling upon the revelation upon her - somehow, she froze suddenly as footsteps were heard. It was Nick with a solemn expression on his face, somewhat feeling a bit of guilt without any hint of anger.

"Nick, what is this?" She gestures upon the papers as she continues investigating it as Nick occupied the seat beside her.

He was supposed to hide it, maybe as his secret for once. But, Maia found out - she always does, she is a smart one after all.

"I did register myself as an organ donor - and I have an appointment tomorrow." He smiles as he collects all the papers and piles them into a group.

"...why?" The shock on her face was evident, somehow she asked herself if her reaction was relevant. Organ donors are good, it helps people - saves them even. But, she has that scared feeling inside of her - somehow, wonders what the future might hold with this decision.

"It feels right, and...helping people is always a good thing." Nick shrugs at the answer, somewhat not knowing a way to explain his sudden decision.

"Does...mom and dad know about this?" The question came out suddenly, despite the pain from the past - they are still their parents after all.

His eyes went dark, somehow - before he shakes his head.

"They don't know, and...you shouldn't know either button." The use of her nickname somehow eases the tone in his voice.

"I get why people do it, they wanted to be the hero and save someone's life. But, you could die Nick! And..." She paused somehow lowering her head.

'i don't think I am not ready to let it happen yet, Nick-Nack.' it's above a whisper, yet it still echoes around the kitchen walls.

It was solemn, the atmosphere but comfortable. Both of them sat in silence, as Maia takes her time - to digest the situation once again.

"I didn't do it to be a hero, but...I wanna help people button. I have been known as Justice, and what if one day; I just wanna help someone as Nick Wiseman. This is something I always wanted to do for a long time." Nick replies truthfully, as Maia nods slowly in understanding.

She knew there was a time - Nick being known as Justice was overwhelming. Everyone expected the best from him, everyone paints him as a picture-perfect man yet, he is only human.

The smile on her face felt fake, yet the thoughts in her mind are swirling as Nick gave an all-knowing look upon the thoughts of hers.

"I know it's possible, but I don't think the world is ready yet for the death of Nick Wiseman." He replies sarcastically, earning an elbow-thud from Maia who an 'I will kill you myself' look written over her face.

He lets out a laugh, before reassuring her once again.

"It will be okay alright, and one day; it will all be worth it. Now, get some rest - I'll make dinner tonight."

Nick stood up from the seat and makes his way to the kitchen. As Maia come through with a revelation that crosses her mind, maybe in the future.

It was years ago, and now - she is walking back from Aeon with Nick who becomes a new resident in her mind. She decides to bring up the revelation from Dr. Amari before,

"Hey, Dr. Amari mentioned about you being an organ donor at the hospital yesterday," Maia said nervously, as he kept the secret for years. She remembers the surprised look from both her dad and Sally herself.

"Oh..." He replies in her head, somehow occupying her thoughts these few days. To be honest, Maia secretly enjoys having Nick in her mind - somewhat a chance for her to feel less broken than she ever did before.

"I actually wanna talked to you about that, I think I wanna become one as well." Her voice was shaky, the hint of nervousness can be noticed by Nick himself in a flash.

There was silence for a few moments before he started to speak again. There is a hint of surprise from his voice which she knows all too well.

"That's great button." She could feel a smile from his mental voice which made her grin as well.

"Yeah, maybe this could help me to feel less like a zero; and maybe more like a person. Like you..."

She heard a mental sigh coming from Nick,

"You were never a zero button - never have and never will be one." His voice is encouraging but, she has a hard time accepting it from time to time. Somehow, today she nods slowly - the first step to everything.

She smiles knowingly as they headed their way to the clinic - the same place where Nick registered upon becoming an organ donor years ago. It was her time, and maybe she can help more than she will ever know.

THE END.

tags: @ambrosykim , @wayhavenots , @vintage-vamp , @fantasyoverreality98

#mind blind #nick wiseman #oc: maia wiseman #mind blind fic #alya writes #my first mb fic yall #im so nervous welp

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be11atrixthestrange · 3 years

Text

Waking Up In Vegas Chapter 8

After a night of debauchery, Ron and Hermione wake up in Vegas... married.

Muggle!AU. Romcom!Romione. Slow burning, smutty, angst-fest.

Rated M for reasons.

Ao3 | FFN

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[Hermione]

Hermione resists the urge to look back to her table as she exits the bar. She really doesn't need to see Lavender in Ron's lap, her fingers in his hair… they broke up, and she has no right to attach herself to him like that. She tries to focus on what Lavender said — Ginny needs her. It is probably some wedding-related anxiety and Hermione can surely help with that… but why can't Lavender? With a groan, she forces the image of Lavender and Ron to the back of her mind and continues on her way to Ginny's hotel room.

Ginny's door opens after one knock, and an unexpectedly cheery bride emerges.

"Hermione? Hi!"

"Hi," says Hermione. "What's wrong?"

Looking confused, Ginny cracks the door wider to allow Hermione entry. "Nothing, why?"

"Nothing's wrong?" Flushing with anger, she takes a seat on Ginny's unmade bed. "Lavender just said you need me, and that it's urgent."

Ginny laughs. "Oh, you must have been with my brother."

"Well, yeah," stammers Hermione. "But only because we were working on wedding logistics and—"

"Relax, Hermione," says Ginny, laughing. "What else would you be doing? I'm just saying, Lavender probably said that so you'd leave her alone with Ron. Nothing to worry about."

"Oh, of course," says Hermione, her heart pounding. Nothing to worry about. "What did she want to talk to Ron about?" she asks, her voice taking an uncharacteristically high tone.

Ginny shrugs. "Dunno, probably trying to seduce him," her words trail off as she patters to the bathroom with her makeup bag. "She has this elaborate plan to get him to take her back before the wedding."

"Oh," says Hermione softly, hoping Ginny can't hear the dejection of her voice from the bathroom.

"Yeah," says Ginny, poking her head back into the bedroom. Her eyes are twinkling with the opportunity for gossip. "You're coming to the bar tonight, right? We're keeping it pretty low-key. Don't want to overdo it before the hen party tomorrow."

"Uh yeah, I guess I am," says Hermione, immediately wondering if Ron… or Lavender will be there.

"Lavender probably won't be around tonight, if that gets you more excited to come," adds Ginny, aware of the hesitation in Hermione's voice. "She's gonna cling to my brother all night. She's so paranoid that he's sleeping with someone else."

"Someone else?" said Hermione, a little too shrilly. "They still sleep together?"

"Look at you, gossiping! I must be rubbing off on you," says Ginny proudly. "But yeah, they still sleep together all the time. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if he took her back. He doesn't exactly have a lot of game," she pauses, contorting her face to apply a coat of mascara. "He's a good guy, don't get me wrong, but it's really just a confidence issue. Lavender makes him feel good about himself."

Hermione's breath hitches and her hands cramp, drawing her awareness to her vicious grip on Ginny's comforter. She releases her fingers, leaving sweaty palm prints on the blanket. Cute.

Her panic is still growing. Ron and Lavender still sleep together, and now she's with him at the bar. She's probably still in his lap with her mischievous fingers in his hair, and is he going to be able to resist her advances?

A knot in her stomach reminds Hermione that unfortunately, he has no good reason to turn her down. They said just as much at the bar: Ron and Hermione are married without the benefits. He's only human if he wants to find those benefits elsewhere.

She knows she could offer up some benefits, but there's one problem: Hermione's not one to have sex with someone she barely knows — regardless of what may or may not have happened the previous night. She can't just set aside that precedent simply to prevent someone else from sleeping with Ron. She has self-respect.

She closes her eyes and recalls Ron's hand gripping her lower back when he pressed his lips against hers. That kiss on the bridge was epically perfect, and the idea of Lavender getting to experience it regularly makes her sick.

According to Ginny, 'Lavender makes him feel good about himself.' She can make him feel good about himself too...

"What's up? You look like you've seen a ghost," says Ginny, emerging from the bathroom with a perfectly made-up face, and a sexy black skirt and crop top combination that could make Harry a target of some lonely boy's jealous rage. Seriously, with that outfit, Harry should hire a security detail.

Hermione shakes her head to erase any telling expressions from her face. "When's the last time they slept together?"

"Um," says Ginny, stopping in her tracks. She looks confused and slightly suspicious. "I think they did the night we arrived in Vegas, but I'm not sure. I know Harry thought so. He keeps telling him to stop sleeping with her because he's just leading her on, but he's not exactly hard to convince, you know? He takes what he can get."

Hermione averts her eyes, which are now stinging with tears. "Do you think they'll get back together?" she asks, her voice cracking.

"Maybe. If they do, I don't think it'll be for long. It never is." Ginny takes one more scan of her outfit, adjusting her top in the mirror. "I'm ready to go! Are you?"

"Do you have any more clothes like that?" asks Hermione.

Ginny whips around to face her, a wide grin on her face. "Why, yes I do!"

"I just want to look good, you know," Hermione replies, unsure why she feels the need to justify it.

Ginny skips to her bag and fishes out a black minidress with lace accents and a deep, revealing v-neck — normally a little much for Hermione, but tonight, fuck it. "This one will surely get you some male attention, if that's what you want," she says giddily.

"Thanks, Gin," says Hermione, taking the dress from her. She holds it up against her body, wondering how much of her backside it'll actually cover. "That is what I want tonight."

Specifically from your brother, she adds to herself on her way to the bathroom to change.

Hermione follows closely behind Ginny, unable to mimic her confident strut as they clatter down the stairs. She keeps reaching for the hem of her dress and tugging it down, only for it to pop back up again, revealing more thigh than she's willingly exposed in quite some time.

"You look great. Stop adjusting your dress," says Ginny.

"It's just so short—"

"Yeah. That's why you look great," Ginny reiterates with a cheeky smile. "I bet I won't be the only one who thinks so."

Hopefully, Ginny's right, and there will be lots of men at the bar distracted by Hermione's legs. Maybe — and it's a big maybe — Ron and Lavender will still be at their bar table, and Hermione will get to witness the look on Lavender's face when Ron does a double-take.

By the time they arrive at the bar, it has been fully transformed into a nightclub. The lights are dimmer, meaning the poor souls who chose to wear white now glow like bleach in blacklight. The music has shifted from ambient folk to pop hits remixed with a heavy bass, and half the tables have been cleared to make room for a dance floor.

Hermione feels a surge of anxiety in the new atmosphere — nightclubs aren't really her scene. She glances toward the corner of the bar where she had most recently been sitting with Ron, and her heart sinks. It's now occupied by another couple, unrecognizable by their pressed-together faces and empty cocktail glasses that obscure them from a clear view.

She scans the rest of the club, wishing another tuft of red hair would stand out to her, but aside from Ginny, there's no one.

"Hey Ginny! Hermione!" Demelza calls from a table across the dance floor. Hermione crosses the center of the room, ignoring the prickling paranoia that she's being watched — she feels so exposed walking through the open space in Ginny's black mini-dress.

Her heart flutters for a moment when she catches a glimpse of Demelza at the table, because she's surrounded by the boys. At least some of them — Harry, Neville and Dean are there, but unfortunately, no Ron.

Lavender is nowhere to be seen either, a realization that sits like a brick in Hermione's stomach.

"Gin, I forgot my I.D. in my room, I'll be a moment," she says, tugging her hand away from Ginny's.

"Alright, catch ya later," says Ginny, skipping off to meet Demelza.

Hermione turns on her heel and shuffles out of the bar, trying not to cry. She has no reason to be upset — Ron's not hers to lay claim on. Unfortunately, that fact only reminds her that he's not Lavender's either, yet they're together, even though Hermione has every right to be in Ron's bed as Lavender does.

She brushes right past her floor — she didn't actually leave her I.D. behind — and makes a beeline for Ron's room, completely forgetting to prepare an excuse for barging in on him. Hermione just wants information, and with an unexpected entrance, she's bound to get some.

But she doesn't interrupt anything. It's too late for that. Her heart sinks when she rounds the corner and sees Lavender slipping out of Ron's room. Lavender locks eyes with Hermione as the door closes softly behind her, and she makes a show of fastening up the remaining buttons on her blouse.

"Looking for Ron?" Her tone of false innocence makes Hermione's blood boil.

Hermione opens her mouth to respond, but she can't think of a retort. Her dumbstruck silence brings a smug smile to Lavender's face.

"Give him a chance to get dressed first," Lavender says as she trots past Hermione down the hallway.

Fuming, Hermione storms toward Ron's door, her fist raised to knock, but something stops her. What will she say? She has no plan.

Hermione imagines Ron opening the door and seeing her puffy, red face, shiny with tears. She doesn't exactly look cute, and by no stretch of her imagination would her current appearance cause Ron to wish she was the one trotting down the hallway with a half-buttoned blouse. Not only that — she managed to make it through the entire afternoon without admitting her crush, but her current state of deranged jealousy is a dead giveaway.

If he sees her now, he'll know just how meaningful for her that kiss on the bridge was. He might suspect that her quiet distraction on the journey back had less to do with the sweltering heat, and more to do with her salacious imagination. He'd be right, but he doesn't need to know that. He doesn't need to discover that her nonchalant attitude at the bar was just an act — an embarrassing attempt to play it coy. Turns out her effort to keep him guessing was all for nothing; there's no point in playing hard-to-get with someone who's not even interested.

Clearly, his affection for her is platonic at best, nonexistent at worst. He brought Lavender up to his bedroom minutes after she rudely interrupted their conversation. If Lavender's his type, Hermione most likely isn't, and a confrontation would only confirm one thing: he's rejected her.

Why give him the satisfaction?

Frustrated, Hermione jerks her hand from the door, and backs away. There's another option here, and at the moment, it's a lot more appealing. She wipes her eyes and turns her back to Ron's door, now determined to show him that she doesn't care if he wastes his time on Lavender Brown. She doesn't care one bit.

But she might need to stop by her room first, if only to splash cold water over her face.

Moments later, Hermione shuffles down the hotel stairs on her way back to the bar. A glimpse of her newly made-up face in the mirror fills her with a new appreciation for foundation and eyeliner. Asinine as it might be, it's quite effective at hiding evidence of tears. And now that she looks like someone else, it won't be much of a leap to act like someone else either.

She pauses at the bar's entrance and takes a deep breath, hesitant to enter. In her absence, the lights have gotten dimmer, the music louder, and the dance floor busier. She has considered sticking with a tried-and-true method of wallowing — hibernating in her hotel room with some snacks and a cheesy movie, and projecting her tragic love life into the tropes of a romantic comedy. Clubs aren't normally her scene, anyway.

But unfortunately, tonight is not a normal night, and her life is definitely not a romantic comedy, so Hermione forces herself to pass into the thick wall of steamy club-air to reunite with the one Weasley that actually matters to her.

It doesn't take long for her to find Ginny on the dance floor — her glowing complexion and elegant red mane stand out in the crowd. It helps that she's accompanied by Luna, whose neon dress and platinum hair give her the appearance of a yellow highlighter.

Watching them dance, Hermione can't help but crack a smile. Ginny's in her element, singing along to a remix of some pop song and radiating with a self-assuredness that's contagious. And Luna has no worries in the world, no concern for the judgmental looks of passers-by as she bounces and waves eccentrically, convulsing to the beat of the music. Her wild movements remind Hermione of an inflatable tube man, dancing in the wind beside the highway.

Luna's a lot, but tonight, the effect is quite pleasant. It's comforting to know that by comparison, Hermione might even look cool in this club.

Ginny spots Hermione and squeals in excitement as she rushes to hug her. "Hey, did you get your I.D.?"

"Yep," says Hermione sharply. "And now I need a drink."

"I'm getting the next round, Hermione," says a male voice from the table. Neville — bless his heart — is smiling and waving at her. "What'll you have?"

"Surprise me, but make it strong!" She tosses her bag to him and he catches it, but not without a fumble.

"Anything?" he clarifies, fishing for her I.D.

"Anything." She doesn't even care if it comes with a straw.

"Attagirl," says Ginny, interlacing their hands, and tugging her toward the thickening crowd of the dance floor.

She obliges, following Ginny's lead, and is once again aware that she's being watched. Normally, it would creep her out to catch a man's eyes lingering on her body, but again, tonight is no longer a normal night, and it's nice to be noticed. Hermione feels appreciated, and not in a platonic marriage-with-no-benefits kind of way.

At the thought of Ron, she glances back to the bar's entrance, scanning the mass of incomers for his flaming hair. Hermione doesn't even want to see his stupid freckled face in the crowd, but for some reason, his absence leaves her more disappointed than relieved. She internally curses that ginger devil; how can someone so undeserving of her attention occupy so much of her mental space?

To the best of her ability, she powers through her disappointment and turns her focus back to Ginny and Luna, right as a dancing Demelza staggers up to them. A few whistles and whoops from the growing crowd bring a blush to Hermione's cheeks. Fuck it — she's in Vegas, she looks hot as hell, and she could have anyone she wants.

Maybe someone else will catch her eye tonight.

#Ron Weasley #Ron and Hermione #ROMIONE #romione fanfic #romione fanfiction #hp fanfiction #hpromione #muggle AU #Hermione Granger #ron x hermione #ronweasley #hermionegranger

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del-uxie · 3 years

Text

Genesis

You woke in a forest.

Even before you could react to your surroundings, you became acutely aware of just about everything. The sway of the breeze, the way the leaves would crunch if stomped on by some stray beast. The way that stars, vast expanses away, would explode and be reborn. The knowledge that eventually, the universe would die out, but eventually, it would come about once again, and nobody would know what came before or what will come after. Just the knowledge of existence in the moment.

You have just been born. For any other organism, this would be quite a lot to deal with, but owing to your unusual circumstances, you’re getting along just fine. The cold breeze flows around you, and towering trees emanate from just about everywhere. You cannot see the sky, or the heavens above. Your base life form couldn’t, anyhow, even though you know exactly what it would look like without the canopy above.

You hurt. Something seems to pang at the top of your body, somewhere you can’t quite detect, and you believe it’s due to straining your imagination too much. ‘Imagination’ is a strong word for it, when it’s really just a completely certain premonition – then that pang comes again. You realise your digression, and realise you’ll have to travel around to navigate your new environment. This form of yours is weak, and not at its full potential.

Burrowing through the earth, tunnelling through the dark depths of parasites and worms, you emerge once more in a bush. It’s a startling height for any life-form to traverse, but you are acutely suited to this sort of travel. A creature resides on the top of it – it has wings for swift flight, and eyes that glow in the dark. It has tall ears, and fur, yet there’s evidence of evolution from some kind of snake or reptile, a life-form that’s present quite far across the universe. You get another little pang, and decide to focus on your little discovery.

You inch closer. Now, you can feel the warmth of its body upon yours. It does not flee in spite of its strong hearing, and you realise there must not be many predators around. You do not feel that pang, and instead feel a little glimmer, knowing that your powers of deduction don’t affect your physical state. Its nose twitches, sensing something else – yet, its pupils do not dilate. The darkness around must not allow for such evolutionary advances – and in spite of yourself, you feel some sort of kinship to it.

You emerge from the bush, staring at it directly. It moves, but again, does not flee, instead deciding to sniff you curiously. You couldn’t possibly tell what it thought of you, but in that moment, it scurried off at not too fast a pace, leading you off into a clearing where several more of its species were situated. A family, it seems – two adults and a litter of their young, one of them looking rather sickly. They are all resting, and the one you met joins them for the night.

You pause for a moment, observing the way their chests rise and fall, and the way the adults curl up to one another, as if to say ‘Your warmth needs my warmth’. You feel a little self conscious about your lack of warmth, and then realise you have nothing to be self conscious about. You scurry back up into the bush you came from, and remain there for the rest of the night.

Midnight.

You’ve spent a lot of time thinking. You spent a lot of time observing those spaces you cannot see on this planet – and learn much of its past. This species is one of the few that survived a cataclysmic event many moons ago, its surprise evolution of wings due to cross-breeding being its sole saviour. They are due to die out due to strongly hereditary heart problems, but if they were conscious of this – or, indeed, if anyone but you were, you’re sure this could easily be bred out. They are all to die of something they have no control over, or knowing part in.

You enter the clearing again. Only one of them is awake.

When the sun rises, the clearing is empty.

There is still something you’re missing.

As you travel across this planet, you wonder how you’re going to get about. You have nowhere near enough energy to simply teleport yourself – something only you, an entity borne of uranium could do – that energy would have to come from the GREEN SUN, and having just been born, you’ve not had a trip over there. Well, ‘just been born’ would be an overstatement – you guess it’s probably been about 5, 10 years so far? On this planet, at least. Whatever, time is of no essence to you.

You don’t really think leaving this planet and getting more energy to truly explore further would fill that void, though. There’s something you don’t have that the mere mortal organisms do, and it’s eating at you. Not in an emotive sense, but in one of a severe incompleteness. You want what they have. You want what these pathetic creatures have – you want ears that prick up at noise. You want a leg that will bend if you tap it with a stick. You want a nose that will twitch at the smell of fresh berries.

In fact, you do just that as a tall figure lands, her wings flapping in the wind as she sets herself down to crouch by you. You can already tell she’s not a native of this planet. Her green skin and skeletal outside tell you as much – she must be a species specifically designed to weather almost any conditions, as she doesn’t react to the cold wind around her.

She speaks to you, in some tongue you don’t recognise, and after a few words more, you start figuring it out.

“…little guy. You don’t look like those other fellers I saw elsewhere. Some big meanie get your friends?” she says, her shawl fluttering in the wind. She has a distinctly rural accent, you decide, and prick your ears up at her, sniffing her.

“Guess you can’t understand what I’m sayin, huh? C’mere, little man.” She says, picking you up and placing you in her pocket, dangerously close to falling out. You rummage around in there, trying to get more comfortable, and she chuckles. “Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna getcha. Lookin’ for those folks that went n hurted your friends, that’s all.” She jumps up from the ground, flying up and away with her white wings, and spiralling out of the trees – and from there, you see light for the first time. A beautiful, pastel pink sky, with two small, dim suns in the distance. It’s about sunset, and you can see a castle on the hill.

You guess that must belong to her.

“See that place up there?” she says, stroking the bit between your ears while she flies, about ready to land. “That’s my place.”

“I’m Prosperity, by the way.” She smiles, her green, full cheeks lighting up.

“Pleased to meetcha, little no-face guy.”

You take up residence with the strange alien on this strange planet. You haven’t actually spoken to her, mind you – you’ve spent your time observing the way things work around here, attempting to get by without your immediate potential knowledge. You’re still not that good with your powers, you know that. You’ve got to get to the Green Sun, but for now, you’re stuck with this lady.

She looks at you one morning, curious. You stare at her back, in the middle of eating the gruel that she always feeds you. The lady doesn’t move, but gives you a hauntingly knowing smile – one that you don’t recognise. Your ears fall back, and you stop eating your food.

“I know what you are now. Asked around some.” she says, sitting down next to you. You don’t know what to do. If she’s figured you out, she might see to it that you never leave this place. These puny forms couldn’t possibly withstand a trip out to space, no matter what you devour and assume the likeness of – like it or not, you’re tethered to this woman. You just thought she assumed you were some defenceless critter of sorts, but this look in her eyes has scared you.

“Yer a changeling, aren’tcha? Those little critters that hop around galaxies, hiding by turnin’ into random animals.” She says. You pause for a moment, and realise she’s wrong – so you double down on the effect, pretending to be ashamed. Prosperity smiles at you, looking genuinely proud of herself. “Knew it. Y’don’t havta keep that form around me, y’know. I’d like to think we’re friends by now.” The lady places her clawed hand in her sharp jaw, observing you quietly. “Could at least gimme an apology. I unno what I did to inspire yer total silence, but unless yer under some monastic oath, y’could ‘splain to me a few things.”

You pause for a moment, and debate what to say.

“…I’m sorry I made you feel bad, Prosperity.” You say, mouth unmoving. Her smile alters a bit, as if unsettled by this – but then she does a little gasp of surprise, her wings fluttering.

“Haha, it’s no sweat, little guy! Why don’tcha tell me what a beastie like you is doin’ all the way out here in the schticks, huh?” she chatters, looking genuinely interested now. You relay the whole story to her, omitting a vast majority of the details, but still getting across your need to flee this planet. She gives you vast attention, more than you were used to from the wild animals and her disaffected small-talk of before, and it feels good.

“Well, little man, I dunno where this Green Sun of yers is. Plenty’a suns out there, and not one of ‘em that I’ve seen has ever been green. Guess I could scout a place like that out for ya, if ya need it.” She pauses, getting up and putting her jacket on, as if planning to leave immediately. Instead, she simply steps just outside to water the flowers on the windowsill, to which you clamber up on the counter to hear her better.

“Us cherubs have always been mighty good at space travel. Entirely independent of our host planets, didja know that?” she says, tending to her flowers. “I guess without that our race woulda died out long ago. Hell, for all any of us know, we already have. S’not like I’m seekin out any’a my kin, even though I’m ‘sposed to.”

You tilt your head at her, and she jerks her head over. “Oh, c’mon, y’can’t pretend you don’t understand me now. Y’owe me a little small talk, no-face.”

“…sorry. Do you really have to seek out others of your species? Why?” You say, feigning interest. She doesn’t pick up on this social cue, and grins, carrying on.

“Matin’ purposes, and suchlike. I tell ya, I don’t give a damn hoot about it. I mean, we’re fated to fuckin’ DIE as soon as we repredouce! Reprodooce? Reproduce. Yeah, that’s it.” Her watering can empties, and she heads inside to fill it up again, the water clinking against the metal sides of the can. “So I just said, fuck it. I’ll be a ranger of space or some shit. Then I did just that. I wander around, helpin’ out whatever planet needs it. Not that I’m ever in time for some sentient conversation, so in that sense, you’ve been a huge help, little guy!” You frown internally, and decide next time you’ll pick a form that’s a bit less small.

“I can tell we’ll get along just fine.”

One morning, you notice she’s taken out a device of some form. It produces sound waves of differing frequencies, depending on the tension she applies to different parts of the object. You don’t understand it, so you hop up to her on the sofa, having gotten back from your daily exploration.

She doesn’t seem to really notice you, having gotten used to your rather free-spirited nature. The sounds continue playing, and she looks as if she’s about to open her mouth to create similar frequencies, when you realise she’d noticed you all along.

“What is that?”

“Ah, this ol’ thing? Lil’ relic from my home planet, this. Bet you’ve never seen anythin’ like it out here.” She says, her eyes glimmering. You detect a little something behind them, and say nothing for a bit, before continuing.

“What does it do?”

“Why, it makes music, little guy!” Prosperity grins, and scratches you between the ears again. It feels nice, and you don’t like that she can just do that. “Here, I’ll show ya… just sit tight, I gotta figure out how this one goes again.”

She plucks a few of the strings with her claws, their wornness becoming more apparent to you as she plays. Though her initial tones are erratic and confused, a tune begins to eke out once more, and once she gets going properly, she begins to sing. Her voice is beautiful, and like no sound you’ve ever heard before. It melds with the soft chirping of animals in the background, and her dulcet tones, singing of a home sweeter than this and a fire warmer than ours, reminds you of something. Something that you won’t ever have.

The song makes you sad.

She take note of this before long, and pauses, cuddling you up to her. She’s warm, and it feels nice. You feel warm now, too, and you realise that’s one thing you’ve gained on your time here, even if you haven’t managed to escape this planet yet and even if you haven’t managed to get to the Green Sun. While she cuddles you in her muscular arms, she smiles softly, strumming tunes idly in repetition.

“Y’know, there’s a reason us cherubs are s’posedta mate.” She says, still strumming softly. “When we’re lil’ kids, there’s two of us in this one body. We live like that n’til one of em’ fights for dominance, a fight that’s gotta be fairly won. ‘Therwise, yer fucked fer life, and can’t ever ‘scape yer homeplanet.” She strokes your back, and you shuffle over, prompting her to carry on petting your head again. “Anyway, in ‘xchange for bein able to live alone, there’s a price that’s paid.”

The tune changes slightly. “When ya separate, yer body chemistry alters permanently. T’that of the body you were always destined ta have, but fer some reason, those receptors for the other chemicals stay there. N’yer body always expects em.” Her eyes flit to the distance. “Causes some kinda deep, primordial loneliness. One that can only be filled by matin’, or so the old legends go.”

“…so why don’t you?”

“Huh? Well…” She stops playing for a moment, realising she’s lost track of the tune she’s playing. Prosperity gets up for a quick drink of water to clear her throat, then sits back down again, as you hop back into her lap, the instrument resting there as well.

“…I guess I just don’t wanna die. I mean, that sorta fear- it’s not meanta be part of our psychology. Otherwise, we’d all literally die out. I guess… fer some reason, I just had that fear.” Her finger circles your fur, getting under your wing and warming up the spot there. “I don’t have a lot ta leave behind, ‘part from you and the lil’ critters I find out in space. I guess I don’t even know there’s anything out there but you an’ I, unless I believe those ol’ scriptures on my home planet.”

“But I guess ahm… ahm still scared. I dunno what’s out there, and I don’t wanna find out. So I think- I think-“ You look up at her. Her eyes are wet. “I think I’m just gonna try an build a good life fer you’n’I. And find that Green Sun’a yers.”

“…you think you’ll make it?”

“Someday, little bit.” She says, scratching your ears. “Someday.”

You hear a thud from outside. She’s arrived home from her travels while you were resting. You scurry outside, pushing the door open with all your might, and see her standing there.

“I’ve found it.” She picks you up, and you nestle in her pocket, finally able to get comfortable. Prosperity is wordless as she packs the few supplies and bits she’ll need for the second journey, but you can tell it’s not that far. Otherwise, she’d be packing more.

She flies up out of the atmosphere of this planet, the deep purple sky leaving you behind and the murky abyss of space emerging. Little glimmers of light emanate all around you, and though she’s fast, you can still see just about everything around you. The lights spiral around, and you realise that there’s something bigger than even you out there. There’s something bigger than you, and you’ll either meet it or become it someday.

The thought scares you.

You wonder why she isn’t talking. You’re really thankful she did all this for you, and you want to express that, but the words just wouldn’t come out right if you said them now, so you stay quiet for a bit, before making some idle conversation. “Is it far?” you ask, and she says no, no it isn’t. She darts below and through some asteroids, dipping expertly around the terrain, and flying past planets – ones very different from the one where you were born, and ones that are similar.

There’s a peculiar spot not far up ahead. As you approach, it seems to get narrower and thinner, yet your speed increases – Prosperity shoots directly for this spot, and you tunnel through it, landing straight on the surface of a large asteroid with far more force than either of you could really withstand.

Her blood spurrels out of her jaw. You panickedly tell her that she didn’t need to go that fast, and that you had all the time in the world, trying to tend to her wounds, but she laughs and says it’s alright. It’s oddly silent out here, without the strum of her guitar and the quieter sound of her voice against the space atmosphere, and she says it’s alright. Her eyes are lowered, and you know she will be. Cherubs are built to withstand anything.

Right?

Right, she says. She leans up, and looks at you. She can go no further, she says. “Do you see this?” she speaks, pulling her half-burnt wing over to you. You didn’t even noticed, you were so focused on getting there together. It’s charred green, and you can barely look at the festered infected wound starting to grow there, tumours bubbling. “I- I can’t go near that thing. Not in a million years. N’you can’t… you told me you can’t live without it.”

She stands up, staring at the Green Sun. Though it doesn’t hurt her eyes at this distance, if she walked any further, the few remaining bits of her nigh invincible evolution would burn away. She holds something in her hand, and you realise why she looked so worn that day.

“…you didn’t.”

It’s an egg. An egg, with two spirals within it – one red, and one green.

“Little bit, I ain’t got anythin’ else in this world to care ‘bout no more. Ah- I knew when I first saw you that you’d be trouble, n’I guess you weren’t wrong.”

“So, here. It’s mine. N’with this exchange, ah- I had to kill another cherub. The only one I’ve ever seen, I had to- his body is out here.” She says, shaking, holding onto you. “His body is out in this fucking- the place, the one place, the place you told me to find. The place you’d be safe, and- I-“

“There’s nowhere to go from here, is there?” you say, staring out at the sun.

“No, there ain’t.”

She stands in front of you. You know what she wants you to do, and you know you can’t do it.

And the next morning, there isn’t a cherub in front of you anymore.

#my writing #jon #prosperity #my ocs

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archadianskies · 3 years

Text

trying my best; trying to find happiness

→ on Ao3

@dbhrarepairs Wednesday Day 3: Past & Future • Separation; post-revolution Daniel/Leo

A missing scene from [heavy with hoping]

He remembers going to Greektown specifically to visit Bellini Paints when he first moved to Detroit. It had been a small detail he remembered from an interview with Carl he watched in school; Carl Manfred had pure pigments imported via Bellini Paints and mixed his own paints by hand when he couldn’t find the right premade tubes.

Sixteen year old Leo had treated it almost like a pilgrimage, visiting the store his father relied on to create his masterpieces. Sixteen year old Leo had been so full of hope, so full of yearning to connect with his biological father. What an idiot he’d been, that sixteen year old boy desperate for approval from a man who’d been more than happy to keep their relationship purely monetary.

Bellini Paints is no less beautiful thirteen years on. The walls are lined with jars of pigments and illuminated with soft ambient lighting. All the cherry lacquer cabinetry has a pleasing rosy hue to the wood, and the polished brass knobs and handles aid in the stately, regal aesthetic of the brand. It feels old and timeless, an institution that will remain even when he is long gone.

He’s no longer that naive, hopeful teen and though he’s left that Leo in the past where he belongs, he feels no anger or frustration towards him. How could he? All that Leo had wanted was to connect with his father and be loved; surely seeking love and approval from a parent isn’t asking for the world?

Not that it matters now, anyway, not when Leo’s got a brother now- a Manfred that matters in a meaningful, healing way, and it’s for that Manfred that he makes the trip to Bellini Paints. Which is now closed.

“Ah shit,” Leo swears, rolling his eyes in exasperation as he stands in front of the locked store.

*~*

He remembers going to Greektown as chaperone for Emma and her friends one weekend to watch a movie at James & Carter cinemas. There were four children in total, including Emma, and one other domestic android, an AX400 accompanying them. Daniel paid no attention to the movie, but what he does remember was Emma’s fascination with Bellini Paints.

The children had been chattering away avidly after leaving the cinema, discussing what they’d just watched, but they’d fallen into a hush when they passed the store. He remembers Emma’s delighted gasp, remembers her walking to the window and peering inside at the rows of pigments on the shelves.

“Hey Daniel, which one matches my eyes?” She’d asked, and he’d pointed at one of the jars in the top right hand corner. She’d laughed so brightly, and then her attention turned elsewhere and the moment was over, the moment lived on only in his perfect memory.

They’d gone to Essie’s Bakery afterward because Caroline specifically did not like the place but Emma loved the buttercream cupcakes there and she knew her mother would say no, but Daniel would always say yes. Even that Daniel in the past had been well on his way to deviancy because even a direct order from Caroline became meaningless when Emma pleaded for leniency.

He wonders if someday Emma will visit Essie’s Bakery of her own volition, and buy one of his buttercream cupcakes, because that’s where he works now, now that he is alive and free and has been given a second chance. He loves it here because he can hide out in the back and just create food to be consumed, and no one can eat baked goods unhappily. That he can somehow contribute to someone’s happiness is enough for Daniel, more than enough, and certainly far more than he ever deserves.

The workday ends and he packs up, cleans up and locks up. Daniel wraps a scarf around his neck made of chunky blue yarn that Simon knitted for him because Simon is good, and kind, and all the things Daniel used to be but isn’t now. He’s trying, though, he’s trying very hard because Simon believes in him and Daniel loves him too much to disappoint him.

He makes his way towards the bus stop only to bump into someone outside of Bellini Paints.

“Oh, sorry-!” The young man looks familiar, and Daniel recognises him from a few days ago.

“Leo?”

“Danny?”

“It’s Daniel, I told you that,” he corrects automatically, bristling. “What are you doing here? Bellini’s closes at 6pm.”

“Ugh, I thought I’d have enough time after my therapy session to swing by and grab Markus’ pastels order,” the young man groans, jamming his hands in his pockets. Leo Manfred, human brother to Markus Manfred, leader of Jericho and object of Simon’s unrequited affection. Daniel’s interacted with Markus several times now and doesn’t care much for him despite the whole ‘saviour’ thing. He’s grateful, no doubt about it, but anyone who Simon fixates on and loves so openly only to fail to return such affections isn’t so great in Daniel’s eyes.

“They’ll open at 9am again tomorrow, though if you’re in a rush, Vincent’s here by 8:30am,” Daniel points out, thinking fondly of the genial EM400.

“Uh, no, I value my sleep,” Leo rolls his eyes. “But I’ll swing by around lunch probably. You heading home now?”

“Yes, if I catch the next bus it should line up with when he leaves your place and we can take it home together,” Daniel nods and Leo shrugs.

“I’ll call you a cab- that way I can go home and Simon can continue on with you,” he takes out his phone and opens an app. “Don’t worry, I’ll put it on the house card. The old man’s got plenty to spare and he’d be more than happy to pay for Simon to get home safely.”

“Simon, but not us,” Daniel drawls as Leo snorts back a laugh.

“I mean, we’re all in agreement here though aren’t we?”

“Yes, Simon is always the priority,” Daniel replies without hesitation.

A taxi pulls up and Daniel climbs inside as Leo takes a seat opposite him. He generally avoids interacting with humans but for some reason Leo is the exception. He’s so stubbornly blasé about Daniel, so readily casual with his invitation of friendship that he can’t help but accept. It’s as if Leo’s willing to pester him into becoming friends and truth be told, Daniel wants it, Daniel wants someone to want him. Simon does, and that’s why he loves him, because Simon has a way of stubbornly killing him with kindness when everyone else loathes him.

“So, the other day Simon was telling me he was at the DPD for some important meeting or other,” Leo begins, hands gesturing animatedly, “and all he could focus on were the shitty store bought muffins on the meeting table. Which got me thinking of how you could make some of your amazing pastries to totally wow them, and give Simon the perfect window he needs to talk to the Anderson brothers.”

“You want me to bribe the DPD into silence so we can set up my brother to not be with yours?” It’s so stupid it makes Daniel want to laugh. Stupid, but plausible, and really, it’s for Simon and they’d both do anything for happiness. “I’m in.”

He’ll do it for Simon, but who knows, maybe there’s a little scrap of happiness held in store for him in the future too.

#leo manfred #daniel pl600 #danleo #detroit: become human #dbhrarepairsweek #annie writes: dbh

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jinxvrse · 3 years

Text

SALT CIRCLES

— in which the jinx dorm has a little infestation problem

characters / the jinx ensemble, han seoyeon

words / 4.1k

warnings / none — if i missed any please let me know!

“My friend is coming over soon, she knows what to do.” Yue had finally put her phone down for perhaps the first time in the last thirty five minutes.

“How odd,” Blue commented, Yue pretended not to hear it.

“So before whoever that is comes over can we go over what exactly is happening again because I’m having some trouble really understanding this whole thing.” Jiyoon’s anger was visible in her voice, fists bunched with a face nearly a redder shade than her ginger hair.

Rosie just swallowed the heavy lump in her throat, mostly scared that that thing was going to appear over her head again and swipe her into whatever land it came from.

“Isn’t it simple? Roro summoned a demon and now our lives could possibly be endangered.” Miran’s smile told Rosie everything she needed to know about her thoughts on the situation, her happy-go-lucky tone was the bigger tell despite her grim words.

Miran was most certainly excited about the prospect of something supernatural going on in their dorm, no matter how dangerous the idea of it was. She was always a fanatic for this type of stuff so it was no surprise to Rosie or any of the others that she couldn’t care less about the ‘could possibly kill us all’ aspect of this.

“It's actually not that simple but I don’t know the acute details of what Rosie did.” Yue spoke up, her voice still as monotone as ever.

“Oh and how do you know so much about all this freaky stuff? In fact it was your ‘thing’ she was using to get it to come here in the first place.” Jiyoon was surely irritated but back talking to Yue was something many people were too afraid to do.

The other girls bit their cheeks upon the interaction, the atmosphere of the room proving far too tense for the five of them. They watched in anticipation for Yue’s next moves, wondering if she’d stay calm this time or match Jiyoon’s anger, maybe more.

“Don’t misplace your anger with me, Kim Jiyoon.” Yue’s voice never changed, although anyone could note the venom sitting behind her words. “Believe me, I know a lot more than you do and you should just trust me and my friend on this one.”

The room eased a little without the threat of a potential fight happening right there in their living room but the situation at hand was far too distracting for them to completely calm down. With Blue curled up in a corner, Rosie and Miran attached to each other by the hip and Yue and Jiyoon standing far from each other in different corners of their room a painfully long silence would be overtaking the group before the mystery friend would come and deal with the issue.

It would be another thirty five minutes before Yue’s friend buzzed into their apartment. Each girl was eager to see who this person was, sitting on the very edge of their seats to see who would walk through the door. However, it was their surprise when a woman roughly the same age as them appeared behind Yue and not some wizened old crone who knew years of ‘demonology’ there to fight the demon away.

“This is Han Seoyeon,” Yue nearly shoved the girl inside the apartment, “and she is going to solve all our problems.” The rest of them greeted her with awkward and unenthusiastic waves.

Seoyeon had bright red hair, almost redder than the t-shirt Rosie had on. Both her arms were decorated with tattoos, some in colour and some just linework, but she was illustrated like a high school desk with drawings of crystals and flowers. One tattoo stood out the most to Rosie, a detailed bright purple amethyst drawn on Seoyeon’s left arm, just looking at it calmed her down almost to a point where she worried no more about the imminent threat living under her bed.

“What does Seoyeon do?” Blue put on a smile for the girl, trying her best not to appear antsy for their house guest.

Seoyeon returned Blue’s smile with one of her own, her pearly white teeth grinning back at the girl. “Officially I’m a bartender at a place in Hongdae, unofficially I’m a witch.”

Jiyoon let out a pained laugh, clamping her hand to her mouth out of feigned politeness. “I’m sorry, you want me to believe that witches are real?”

“And you’ll believe a spirit’s living in your house? I’m used to skeptics but it’s especially funny coming from someone who appears to be haunted from the energy I’m feeling here.” Seoyeon’s smile never faltered, there was a specific confidence that she emanated and it definitely inspired Rosie in ways she never thought she could feel.

“What? Do you need to see it in action to believe it?” Seoyeon found a seat at one of the dining table chairs, taking it as though it were her throne with her legs crossed and a hand coming to lean against her chin.

“You, Jiyoon, are feeling anxious above all but you’re hiding it behind anger because what if this thing really does kill you and you can’t protect Yoonsung and Jiah, your little siblings, right?” A smirk painted her pretty face when she saw Jiyoon contort in confusion.

“H-How do you know their names?” Jiyoon could barely utter out her sentence, this was probably the first time any of them had seen her lost for words in years.

“I’m a psychic, not a powerful one but I can find out a few things about someone if I focus hard enough.” The redhead tapped at her forehead, signalling a third eye. Rosie might actually believe one would appear in a matter of seconds but her forehead remained eye-free.

Miran let out a light giggle at seeing Jiyoon so dumbstruck, immediately pulling herself together with a serious expression once she caught Jiyoon staring her down.

“Now will you let me do my job?” Seoyeon stood up again, her head held high and her eyes scanning the room around her.

The girls had no qualms about anything she had to say anymore, they had just about seen and heard everything they needed to believe they were in this predicament and there was no reason to not let her carry out her investigation. Despite this they were still seemingly surprised when they watched as Seoyeon started to do her thing.

Little tendrils of pink and green fluttered through Seoyeon’s fingers, the distinct smell of burnt sugar surrounding the girls and filling up the room. The feeling was light on her palms, like fire without the heat, ticklish against the smooth skin. She watched as the girls’ eyes followed the magic jumping from her fingerprints.

Her fingers ran through the walls of the dorm living room, tattoos and veins glowing the same bright pink and green colour, each line fading and reappearing with her heartbeat as she walked. It left Rosie in awe, she never thought magic could really be real, not until seeing everything she had witnessed in the last twenty four hours.

She glanced over to look at her other members, their faces not nearly as shocked as her own. She could get behind Miran not being entirely surprised, seeing as she was always a believer and lived in her own little land, but the other two were more grounded in real life than they were. Rosie remembered how skeptical Jiyoon was of her story when she told her earlier that night or how Blue laughed thinking it was a joke. Maybe Yue’s insistence finally made them believe her but would they have done so without the older girl’s slightly threatening presence?

“The good news is it’s not a malevolent spirit, just a tricky one.” All the girls sighed in relief upon hearing Seoyeon’s words.

“What’s the bad?” Blue questioned, hands massaging her temples like this was all some bad dream.

Seoyeon exhaled deeply, there’s no way things could possibly get worse for them, right? “It’s not leaving for a while, it’s screaming at me that it loves this place too much.”

“So we just have to deal with a literal demon living with us?” Jiyoon groaned, barely hiding her annoyance from the other girls.

Blue simply laughed, the exhaustion was getting to her. Anyone could see so with her dark circles and slouched stance, after all she had been up for so many hours doing this and that around the dorm in an attempt to fix the problem herself. Seeing how her laughter continued on creepily in the background maybe she was going hysterical with everything going on.

“There are ways to force the spirit back to wherever it came from but I am definitely not powerful enough to do that, many aren’t.” Seoyeon casts her eyes over to Yue, lazily staring at her for a second before diverting her gaze elsewhere.

“I am so going to have to move out.” Jiyoon mumbled, the disbelief settling behind her eyes.

“Well for the time being why don’t you just give ‘em a name, treat it like a nice lodger and it’ll leave eventually.” She seemed so nonchalant as she talked, like this was an everyday occurrence in Seoul or whatever witch land she came from.

“That’s all I can do for you but before I go I have to ask, how exactly did you bring this spirit here?”

Everyone’s eyes fell on Rosie, the stares causing her to recoil back into her seat on the sofa. Their stares spoke a thousand words to Rosie and it only made her feel more reluctant to actually say anything, she’d much rather run back to the safety of her bed and pretend this was one hell of a dream.

“I saw this one video on TikTok that said if you’re lonely summon this spirit to be your friend for a couple hours,” Rosie hung her head low as she spoke, avoiding the likely judgemental stares from her group mates. “It was stupid I know and I didn’t even believe it would work but...I had to try it.”

She raised her head slightly, catching a glimpse of Seoyeon with a hand to her chest, a warm smile on her face. She wasn’t outright stating it but Rosie could feel her sympathy radiating off of her like sunbeams, she’s glad Yue called her over because at least someone in that house would try to understand why she would do something like that.

“I found a bunch of witchy stuff in Yue’s room and got to work.” She shot a apologetic glance in the Chinese girl’s direction, “if you want the details, I was using this diamond necklace of mine as a pendulum to communicate with the spirit and I must’ve let it into the house as we talked because the diamond was swinging all on it’s own like crazy.”

Rosie recalled the memories of last night, she was the only one in the dorms, the other four all doing things that didn’t seem to involve her. It was the third time that week, she was just tired of being left out and the feeling of loneliness had been boiling in her blood for far too long.

Jiyoon already had a best friend and the last time they’d had a genuine conversation outside of the practice room must have been months ago. Yue and Miran had become awfully close in the last few months, often leaving the others out of their shared world, and Blue had been out doing god knows what with someone she was never going to text back. Heck, even her own brother was barely responding to her texts, probably off somewhere getting high and pretending she didn’t know about his problem.

There was no need to wiggle her way into places she wasn’t wanted so she decided she'd find someone else to talk to, despite how extreme the solution she came to must’ve seemed to others.

Even if the spell hadn’t worked, there would have always been that thought settling in the back of her mind hoping that it did so that maybe she wouldn’t have to deal with knowing the fact that no one wanted her. A fact that had become as clear as day when she watched each of her members frown in disappointment at what she’d done when they had finally come home to a teary-eyed Rosie, an oddly humanoid shadow standing behind her to confirm her story.

“Well who hasn’t accidentally summoned a spirit in their youth?” Rosie hadn’t realised a silence had formed since her last words until Seoyeon cleared her throat, the lopsided smile still on her face. “Next time I’d recommend you use salt circles, it’ll protect you a little better.”

Yue rubbed her eyes, chuckling softly at Seoyeon’s joke. She flashed a smile at her friend before retiring to her room, the rest of the girls could chat with her or show her out because, quite frankly, she was tired and just wanted to go to bed.

Closing the door behind her, Yue sighed at finally being alone, flopping onto her bed and closing her eyes. Images of Seoyeon’s magic raced through her mind, the sight of the pink and green was oddly addicting, pulling Yue up from the bed and staring into her hands in front of her.

Each vein began to run an icy blue, backlit behind her pale skin. Tiny translucent wisps prickled all around her body, congregating within her palms like an ice that burned through her veins, taking over her entire body in a wave of cold fire.

She winced upon the feeling, not because it hurt, it was more of a tension within her hands, made her eyes itch, that was all. No, the problem was that she liked it, all of it, the feeling of power in her hands, like she could do anything. She could do anything but that’s what got her here in the first place, running to Seoyeon for help because she wanted to hide all of it.

Even though she promised herself she wouldn’t practice anymore, she was always a little bit curious as to how much magic she could gather all on her own. Yue was admittedly a little rusty, mostly due to the blockage that had built up within herself from the years she had abstained from all of this. It took her several minutes to get the candles to burst aflame but it made her feel...something, something that excited her just a little bit too much.

She stared into the flame of the candle closest to her, it flickered violently with just her gaze, the red wax dripping fast into the plate it stood on.

The minute she heard the click of her bedroom door opening she turned around, the candles had blown out immediately with the whip of her head. Darkness cloaked the room again leaving Yue and her visitor alone with just the sliver of light from the window to illuminate them.

She identified the other as Seoyeon from the shine of her red hair, “Don’t scare me like that.”

“Smells like pine in here.” The witch simply chuckled, crossing her arms and leaning the door closed with her back. Yue’s grateful it was her, god knows what she would’ve done if any of her group members had come in instead. Seoyeon’s intuition probably caught her practicing through the walls, she’s smart enough to see through them after all, her eye was always working overtime when they were kids.

“You know you could’ve done that in seconds, no need to call me over here in the middle of the night.” Yue rolled her eyes, it was just like Seoyeon to bring that up. It had been a long time since they’d interacted like this and she was still doubtful as ever to her own power.

“You know why I don’t do that anymore.” Yue responded through gritted teeth, “and besides, you did do that in seconds, you’ve grown a lot since I last saw you.”

“Seokyung’s better than me, but you were always the best out of all of us.” Seoyeon walked over to Miran’s bed, sat right at the edge facing Yue. “It’s clear Jiyoon wants the spirit out, Blue too.” She chuckled, “I don’t think the other two really want that though.”

There was a beat of silence following Seoyeon’s words, neither of them really wanting to address the rather big elephant in the room at that very moment.

“You could help them, Yue, you know that.” Seoyeon spoke in Mandarin, her accent still the same as when they were kids, hearing it warmed her heart.

Yue didn’t respond, her lips pressed into a thin line and her eyes boring into the witch’s. If she wasn’t going to say anything then Seoyeon was simply going to have to press harder.

“Listen, I know what happened was bad but you can relieve your group mates of the thing that’s stressing them out, not me, not anyone else, you.” The smell of burnt sugar began to fall into the room once again, combating the fresh pine of Yue’s magic. “There’s a full moon in two days, you gotta do what you do best!”

Seoyeon knows she can’t force Yue into doing anything, being her friend for over a decade told her that, but she can at least get her to try. Maybe if she could get Yue to open herself up to her own abilities, they could repair what was left of their fragmented friendship.

Yue’s eyes never left Seoyeon, she wanted to believe her, she really did. However, all she could remember was the flames, the haunting memory of the heat coming into dangerously close contact with her as they spread. The thick, black smoke circling the house, the deafening cries of her friend, the silent tears that fell as she watched it all burn.

“Stop, Seoyeon. I just can’t! Is that not enough for you?” Yue cried out, her voice just a decibel below a scream anyone could’ve heard.

Seoyeon knows she’s struck a chord in Yue, hanging her head low. She remembers the fire too. She remembers her heart dropping to her stomach when she saw Yue standing outside in shock, the sickening feeling of relief when she caught her father dragging her mother and sister out of the pile of ash that she called her home.

They tried to move past it, all those years they’d spent with each other far away from Luoyang. Seoyeon knows she’s moved on but maybe Yue hadn’t, that’s why she refused to even talk about what happened since they had left, why Seoyeon could feel that the other hadn’t practiced in so long.

It made her mad, if she could get over losing her home, her family, over something she didn’t even do then Yue could at least try and fix her own problems without running to her and then throwing it back in her face. She threw a hand to the amethyst on her arm, pressing over the tattoo lightly to calm herself, however, it was no use as the anger seething through her caused her to speak without thinking.

“And you call yourself a witch.” She muttered under her breath.

“I don’t!” The flames lit up again, burning dangerously high above their wicks, “Now shut up or get the fuck out of my house.”

Seoyeon waved off the younger girl’s anger, calming down the candles with the flick of her hand. She walked over to the bedroom door but before she would leave she turned to face Yue again, her bright red hair shining around her like a halo.

“You can’t fool me Yue, I’m a damn psychic.” Was all she said before leaving the room, leaving the door irritatingly ajar.

The dancer heard Seoyeon’s goodbyes to the girls through the door, a guttural sigh leaving her mouth when she heard the front done close. She got up from her seat on her bed, feeling all her bones crack upon the stretch, but as she walked towards the door she caught something upon the handle.

Staring back at her was a burned in sigil carved in the wood, each line a very familiar mark that had been seared into her brain from the moment she could see. It was for protection, something to ensure nothing bad could enter the room, Seoyeon must have etched it there on purpose.

“Typical.” She muttered, eyes trained to the mark on the door. She hadn’t seen or made one of those in years, all in hopes that her supernatural past wouldn’t follow her into her new life. Yue supposed she should thank Seoyeon for thinking about her even when she was yelling at her to leave.

“Hey, are you okay? You seemed off earlier.” Yue’s eyes broke contact with the door upon Miran’s sudden entrance, a small smile painted on the girl’s face.

She cleared her throat, grumbling a bit in an attempt to clear her mind of the negative energy surrounding it. She walks back to her bed and pats at the spot beside her, inviting Miran to join her on the blanket.

“I’m okay, just stressed. Y’know, idol shit.” Her laugh is uneasy but Miran’s presence is hardly threatening to her.

Miran frowned, clearly unhappy with the answer as she shuffled closer to her roommate, head resting on the older girl’s shoulder.

Yue noticed how quick she often was to figure out something’s wrong. Maybe it was because they had become inseparable in the last few months that Miran was always able to sniff out sad feelings, or maybe she was an empath that had snuck her way into her life on purpose. Yue goes back and forth on her theories when it comes to this stuff but there’s one thing she knows for sure and it’s that Miran would always be there.

“Just bad memories resurfacing is all, nothing to worry about.” She threw a smile Miran’s way and rested her head against the pillow, the other girl joining and curling up to her in a tiny ball on the bed.

“You can talk to me you know, I might not be able to solve all of it but I can help you speak through it and that might help.” Miran looked up at Yue, eyes wide and full of sincerity.

She knows Miran only wants what’s best for her, she’d never have offered if she didn’t. Still, there’s a stain on her heart that stops her from being fully honest with her, there were far too many things Yue hadn’t fully accepted for her to even begin to think about telling anybody else about them.

“Is this about Seoyeon and the demon? Is there something I should know? I won’t judge you if there is, it’s just that there’s obviously something happening and you seem to have way more answers then you’re letting on to and I’d hate for this to get between us as a group.”

Miran would not stop talking, her words were barely permeating through Yue’s brain as she gazed off into the distance behind her. She’s sure she’s seeing things when she spots the shadowed form on Seokyung on Miran’s bed, just to be sure she blinked and shook her head but when she opened her eyes again she’s still there, staring back at her.

Yue tried to shake off the visions, pinning it to her sleep deprivation but the sight of her former friend haunts her, leaving a sick taste in her mouth. She tried listening to Miran to distract her but it was no use as the image of Seokyung began to burn, flames lighting up the bedroom, flickering around her skin and burning away her features.

“Just shut up, Miran!” Her eyes widened once she had been brought back to reality, the flames withering away as she realised what she had just said to the younger girl.

Miran stayed silent, swallowing the lump forming in her throat and pushing back the slowly growing feelings of regret. The sight of her looking so hurt made Yue want to crawl into a corner and die, like she’d just wounded a puppy.

“Shit, Miran I’m sorry, I just need a moment alone.” She didn’t want to hurt her best friend anymore but just looking at her made her insides freeze up, “please?”

She didn’t say anything, instead removing her arms from Yue and walking out of the room. Once she heard the door click shut Yue slapped her face into her hands, trying her best to erase every bad memory from the last twenty four hours. Seokyung’s appearance had to be the spirit playing it’s tricks on her, what else could it have been?

Fuck, this demon was going to be way harder to live with then she thought it would be.

#bobakocnet #aeskocnet #jinx :: dev #fake kpop group #fake kpop idol #kpop idol oc #kpop oc

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grapefruitsketches · 3 years

Text

And when I break it's in a million pieces (1/5)

Rated T

Twin Jades post-canon case fic, POV Lan Xichen, angst, hurt/comfort, canon-typical injuries/blood

Chapter 1 - For fytheuntamed’s Untamed Fall Fest Day 8 - Lan Xichen (better late than never!)

Also available on AO3

“No.”

“Wangji. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

“No.”

Xichen sighed, letting his eyes close, letting his mind calm, allowing a patient but firm smile to grace his face.

Lan Xichen had left seclusion only a short few weeks ago. It had become more and more difficult to resist the awareness of the responsibilities he had abandoned, had piled onto his uncle, his brother, maybe even the younger disciples. But even as this understanding crushed him, it had taken still another month for him to finally work up the courage to stand up, to walk out, to announce that he had returned.

Now he just needed to convince his most stubborn family member to let him take those responsibilities back.

“Wangji. You’re busy. You’ve taken on so much,” he looked his brother straight in the eye, “Let me do this for you.” He saw something flicker in his younger brother’s eyes at these words. The smallest motion, but a flinch all the same.

“I’m going with you.”

“Wangji…” but Xichen knew he’d already lost this battle.

A part of him approved of his brother’s resolve. His little brother seemed to intuitively understand that sometimes, whether someone should be trusted should be questioned.

And was Xichen really in a place to criticize such a perspective?

“Fine,” Xichen finally relented, smiling softly at his brother’s unwavering expression, “Perhaps it would be nice to have a companion in this task after all,” he looked into his brother’s eyes, “But only if you truly think you can be spared without too much trouble later?”

His brother smiled almost imperceptibly, and nodded.

It was to be Lan Xichen’s first night hunt in… longer than he cared to remember. Even before his seclusion, there had been his sect leader duties, various diplomatic missions, his own personal studies and training there to draw him away from working in the field. After the fallout from the Sunshot Campaign, he had never minded the quiet. But he had to admit, a part of him had missed this.

It had been too long since the Twin Jades had set off on a journey together, just the two of them. Though they walked in silence, a part of him, deep within, smiled.

And another part resented that he dared to enjoy this.

There had been a call for help near Gusu’s western border. Details had been shaky, but the distress real. The pain evident in the letters sent to the Chief Cultivator by those who had lost loved ones. Sent to his brother.

The notion of Wangji as the Chief Cultivator still felt odd to Xichen. It wasn’t that Xichen thought his brother wasn’t suitable for the role – no matter how distinguished and respected the name Hanguang-jun, Zewu-jun had always managed to think even more highly of him than the cultivation world at large – instead, he was surprised that his brother had accepted it. He knew when his brother was happiest: with his guqin, with Wei Wuxian, or, at one time at least, on the road with his brother.

But tedious politicking? Mediating disputes?

His brother could be good at it, if he wanted to be. But did he want to be? Or had the Cloud Recesses been left so damaged, so vulnerable without its sect leader, that Wangji had had to commit himself to something he had never wanted to do? Had every moment Xichen spent wallowing in seclusion, every moment piecing himself together after he had let himself shatter, been a moment tearing his brother apart?

“We are here.” Wangji said, and Lan Xichen shook himself out of his reverie. Centering himself and seeking to take in and enjoy his surroundings.

It was town that could easily be confused for any other in this part of Gusu. Pockets of shopkeepers selling their wares. An inn with only a small handful of rooms. Little houses lining the streets, which mirrored the river’s path.

“Shall we… go to the inn?”

Lan Xichen blinked away memories of other towns, other times, like this, and nodded, following his brother to check in to their rooms. He didn’t fail to notice, but still chose to ignore, Wangji’s long, hard stare. He was concerned. Xichen knew his long silences on their way here hadn’t helped. It was jarring, even to Xichen, flipping their dynamic such that Wangji could now be said to be the more talkative of the two, But perhaps it was simply a result of the choices each brother had made: Lan Wangji had become more connected, more grounded, to the world around him, even as it seemed Xichen was liable to simply drift away at any moment, back to the quiet that had comforted him in seclusion.

Xichen only hoped that through this mission he could assuage these concerns, convince his brother that he could focus on other, more important things.

They arrived at the inn, and Wangji booked their two rooms as Xichen stood by his side, thoughts far away, but ensuring that a part of him maintained a polite smile.

It wasn’t fair, Xichen thought as he allowed himself to rest, to sit on the bed, to close his eyes. Wangji asked for so little, but did so much. Of course Xichen should have seen it coming. Should have known that by offering to take on this call for help, he was effectively asking his brother to join him, to add one more thing to the long list of responsibilities he carried. Xichen sighed, wondering what tasks his brother kept hidden from him, which concerns he kept secret, in order to protect the older brother who should instead be the one protecting him.

A knock at the door. Xichen flinched and immediately admonished himself for wasting time ruminating so darkly when he and his brother had agreed to freshen up quickly, and meet up to begin their investigation. The quiet was comfortable, familiar, easy to fall into. But comfort and familiarity were not what he should be permitting for himself right now. He had taken too much already.

They had work to do. He had to do this – so that Wangji could trust him again, so that Wangji didn’t feel obliged to tag along, could continue his own work without worrying that his brother might be struggling elsewhere.

A knock again, a questioning, “Xiongzhang?”

And Lan Xichen stood himself up, breathing deeply, pulling his mouth into a smile, and was halfway to the door when his brother slid it open.

“I’m coming, Wangji,” Xichen said, not missing the brief look of panic Wangji had carried when he’d slid the door open.

Xichen chastised himself – be on time – he reminded himself. How could he consider himself reliable if Wangji couldn’t even be sure he’d follow the most basic etiquette?

They had spent the afternoon making inquiries in town, and Xichen was just… tired. He didn’t think he could handle hearing another story of grief, of hope mixed with fear. Whatever was taking these people seemed to take some kind of sick pleasure in preying on those who were already down. A farmer who had shared an area of land with a friend, who’d disappeared not long after a devastating fire. A man who had vanished shortly after his sister’s marriage to his best friend had fallen apart. A couple who had only just lost a child when one of them had been taken.

Xichen watched as Wangji bowed to the shopkeeper and made his way back to his brother.

“Anything helpful?” Xichen smiled wanly, already knowing the most likely answer.

Wangji, predictably, shook his head, “More of the same. Disappearances. Travelers last seen taking the north path out of town, not rejoining their companions later,” Wangji paused, “But the shopkeeper also said he thought only one was ever taken, even if a pair went out.”

Xichen nodded, adding, “So it would seem our culprit has a type. People it can lure out, maybe it is looking something specific in the victims?”

Wangji hummed in agreement.

Xichen let out a breath, turning towards his brother, “Should we try the path to the woods themselves tomorrow? See what clues may be there? It will be dark soon, and we should eat.”

His brother nodded and two walked back, side by side, not quite in the lock step they had once fallen into so naturally.

Lying in bed that night, staring at a strange ceiling, a long overdue change of scene, Xichen found the familiar thoughts returning to him. The desperation, the anger in da-ge’s face that he had so readily dismissed the last time he had seen him. The pain, the shock of a-Yao when Xichen had finally dared open his eyes to see what he had done. The steely, determined look in his brother’s eyes as he let himself be beaten half to death, as Xichen let it happen right before his eyes.

He had seen, but not understood. Understood, but not quite seen. Both seen and understood, but even then, refused to act.

It was no wonder Lan Wangji, burdened with Chief Cultivator duties as he was, still did not want Xichen to travel alone. To be asked to make observations, assessments, decisions.

Xichen sighed, closing his eyes and trying to coax sleep forward, urge it to take over for now. Lan Xichen had learned the hard way how years of overwork, of insufficient support, could chip away at someone. Could turn someone you thought you knew into someone unrecognizable. He knew his brother to be strong, capable, willing to do whatever was necessary, but he couldn’t let his brother’s appearance of being held together dissuade him. Could not let himself ignore the burdens of being a younger brother. A Chief Cultivator.

Not again.

He needed Wangji to know he could tell his brother anything, ask him for help whenever it was needed. If he wouldn’t, how could Xichen prevent Wangji from breaking, like so many Xichen had supposedly loved but ultimately let down before him?

#untamed fall fest #lan xichen #lan wangji #twin jades of gusu #twin jades of lan #twin jades #the untamed #cql #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #my writing

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siverwrites · 3 years

Text

Trick or Treat Letter 2021

AO3: Siver

Thank you for taking this on! Here there are some general prompt details if you want them and if you already have some idea of your own, awesome. I can’t wait to see what you come up with.

Note sometimes I have some specific prompts for some characters while other don’t. This has nothing to do with priority or preferences. They’re just ones I happened to some specific thoughts for. Of course they’re only ideas and you’re free to ignore them!

All requests are for fic or art.

Art: Interactions of some sort: emoting at each other, talking, sharing some activity, taking a walk, hugs are always welcome, soft things, whatever suits the pair/group. I’d much prefer the character(s) doing something over just standing around looking cool.

Likes: fluff, hurt/comfort, found family, sickfic, fandom crossovers or fusions between requested fandoms, angst with a happy or at least bittersweet end, bonding, cuddling/hugs/holding, banter, mutual care and support, loyalty, pre-canon, post-canon, missing scenes, slice of life, supernatural stuff, mystery, adventure, world-building, creepy or unsettling atmospheres

DNW: NSFW, non-con, dub-con, underage relationships, unrequested ships, infidelity, explicit gore, modern AUs (college, high school, coffee shop etc), non-canonical permanent character death

Any combination of character tags within each fandom is cool. I have specfic pairs and groups listed at points but those are only for ideas. Heck, any crossover/fusion between any of these fandoms is welcome too, go nuts.

For treats: you can’t go wrong with fluff! Friendship, familial bonds, found family, romance for the few ship possibilities listed here.

For tricks: I like it atmospheric. Unsettling atmospheres. Unresolved mystery. Making use of the stranger environments canon may already provide. The surreal. The strange. The supernatural. Much prefer a subtler creepy factor over ‘jump scares’ and gore.

Ghost Trick

Alma

Cabanela

Jowd

Sissel

Kamila

Lynne

Missile

Pigeon Man

Lovey-Dove

Mino

DNW: NSFW, non-con, dub-con, underage relationships, unrequested ships, infidelity, explicit gore, modern AUs (college, high school, coffee shop etc), non-canonical permanent character death

Ships I’m good with: Alma/Jowd/Cabanela, Alma/Jowd, Cabanela/Jowd (where the focus is there but without infidelity to Alma), Alma/Cabanela (again no infidelity just where the focus is)

I love this game, its characters and pretty much everything about it, so whatever you want to do will be great I’m sure. New timeline mysteries and missing memories are always welcome where it makes sense. Alternate timelines and what-ifs are cool to explore. Fluff, comfort, family found or otherwise and friendships are always a go. Spooky ghost shenanigans, mysteries in the night.

Any combination of these characters is more than welcome too!

Any combination of Jowd/Cabanela/Alma or Jowd & Cabanela & Alma is always welcome.

Always down for various combinations of Pigeon Man with Cabanela, Jowd and/or Kamila. Or PM with someone less expected like Alma! Or Sissel! Or Missile! The Jowd family expands and you cannot escape. In other words found family with Lynne or with Pigeon Man (or both of course).

Animal shenanigans on their own or with each other and fluff is great.

Sissel settling into the Jowd household and the shenanigans that ensue from having a ghost-powered cat.

Mino: What is Mino? Who is Mino? This is trick or treat, go weird, have fun.

Alma: We just need more of our girl honestly. Sweet relationship or family stuff. Go supernatural and consider Alma ghost either during game or temporarily post-game before being rescued by Sissel (Maybe helping Sissel save herself in that situation?)

Final Fantasy VI

Celes

Sabin

Chocobos

Valigarmanda

Mog

Phantom Train

Gogo

Relm

Interceptor

DNW: NSFW, non-con, dub-con, underage relationships, unrequested ships, infidelity, explicit gore beyond canon typical, modern AUs (college, high school, coffee shop etc), Gogo as Daryl, non-canonical permanent character death

Valigarmanda: I just want to know more about them (she? he? your pronoun of choice). What led to them frozen in Narshe? Do they still hold some form of awareness in that state? Do the moogles look after at all? Some form of communication between them? How did they feel joining the party as magicite? What exactly took place between them and Terra? So many possibilities or something else entirely.

Mog: I just like moogles okay. Throw him at anyone here in the above list and see what happens. Or a moogle adventure in Narshe or elsewhere. Sky's the limit, dance's the limit?

Chocobos: I just like chocobos okay. Throw one or more at anyone here in the above list and see what happens. If you want something more specific I will never have enough serpent trench travel with Sabin and Celes in the World of Ruin. Give them chocobos and off they go. Figaro chocobos are also good. Chocobo anything.

Phantom Train: I have no particular thoughts here but what better exchange than Trick or Treat for the Phantom Train itself? Exploring more about it whether it's just it or throw characters at it. All cool.

Celes and Sabin: as stated I'm an absolute sucker for world of ruin travel with these two and anything more is good. That said if you want to focus on just one of them or one of them with someone else that's great too. I've only lumped them together for sake of convenience. Sabin in Figaro? Sabin with another here? Celes travels in the saved world?

Interceptor: Does he interact much with any of the rest of the party? Or... dog and chocobo... Or just you know can't go wrong with Interceptor and Relm things ever

Relm: Any interaction with anyone here. Leaning on her Sketch ability would be cool. Mimic paint off with Gogo?

Gogo: Gogo's just neat. More of them good.

Carto

Carto's Puppy

Granny Maldpo

Shianan

Shianan's Puppy

Storytender

DNW: NSFW, non-con, dub-con, underage relationships, unrequested ships, infidelity, explicit gore, modern AUs (college, high school, coffee shop etc), non-canonical permanent character death

I just want to see a little more of these characters and this world. The game was so cute and neat. More travel or stories or some sort of cute moment with Carto and Maldpo, and puppy if post-game, on their airship! Granny Maldpo is so cool! Explorer pilot grandma hell yeah! A little adventure for her? More exploration of Shianan (and her puppy!)? A reunion with Carto again?

The story chalet was also just really neat so doing more with it and the Storytender is absolutely welcome. What does an average day for him look like in an ever-changeable library with books writing themselves?

The Last Guardian

The Boy

Trico

DNW: NSFW, non-con, dub-con, underage relationships, unrequested ships, infidelity, explicit gore, modern AUs (college, high school, coffee shop etc), non-canonical permanent character death

Give me all the cat-dog-bird fluff/shenanigans/playfulness/warmth/coziness. Anything while they’re together. Barrel feeding, snuggle time, riding, flying. Sweet or silly (Trico has his moments for sure) or something else. I adore Trico. I adore the boy and Trico’s companionship.

Alternatively something in the future. The boy grown up reuniting with Trico. A flight with Trico. A temporary willing return to the nest. Meeting Trico babies!

Metroid

Samus

Chozo

Baby Metroid

DNW: NSFW, non-con, dub-con, underage relationships, unrequested ships, infidelity, explicit gore beyond canon typical, modern AUs (college, high school, coffee shop etc), reliance on manga knowledge, spoilers for Metroid Dread, non-canonical permanent character death

While I don't have anything particular in mind here, I'm all about the mood for Metroid and would appreciate really leaning on the atmosphere and environmental aspects--either more lush areas (eg Brinstar, Tallon IV landing area) but still isolating, or the darker more tense places. I'm particularly fond of Super Metroid and Metriod Prime.

Any singular focus on one of the above three or some combo is good.

Regarding the manga: I know next to nothing about it, so light referencing without needed knowledge is fine; anything deeper than that please avoid?

Monkey Island

Guybrush Threepwood

Elaine Marley

Murray

El Pollo Diablo

Feral Chickens

DNW: NSFW, non-con, dub-con, underage relationships, unrequested ships, infidelity, explicit gore, modern AUs (college, high school, coffee shop etc), Escape from Monkey Island, angst, non-canonical permanent character death

Silly pirate-y shenanigans. Guybrush and Elaine team-up on something actually in one place? Any interactions with Murray are always a treat and we’ve never gotten to see those with Elaine in the mix.

Explore the legend of El Pollo Diablo in some way. What do the chickens get up to now they roam free across Puerto Pollo? What oh-so-nefarious schemes is Murray up to now? A feral chicken demonic skull team-up?? I mean, that’s kinda close to El Pollo Diablo right???

This is coming off as Curse of Monkey Island-centric (it is my favourite) but it doesn’t have to be. It’s just because of the chickens… and Murray. But mainly chickens. Anytime from the previous games, or future or off to the side is good too.

Bug Fables

Kabbu

Leif

Chompy

Elizant II

DNW: NSFW, non-con, dub-con, underage relationships, unrequested ships, infidelity, explicit gore, modern AUs (college, high school, coffee shop etc), non-canonical permanent character death

I love the group dynamics! Party fun times while they’re travelling would be good. Really interested in more with Leif’s situation because that is a Lot and open to more introspection and dealing–Kabbu support go? Attempted Vi support go? Chompy being the best plant she can be? Snuggle that plant during hard times?

Exploring that lab more and cordyceps is welcome for the creepier end of things. Same with the Giant’s Lair and what IS that giant eye?

There’s also an interesting connection between Elizant II and Leif I’d be interested in seeing more. Leif’s out of his time but holds memories of Elizant I. Elizant II is a more direct connection he’s otherwise lacking and it’s nice to see how his opinion of her shifts and grows as she grows.

The Legend of Heroes

DNW: NSFW, non-con, dub-con, underage relationships, unrequested ships, infidelity, explicit gore, modern AUs (college, high school, coffee shop etc), spoilers for Hajimari or Kuro, Agate/Tita, Olivier/Schera, non-canonical permanent character death

Trails in the Sky

Estelle Bright

Cassius Bright

Lena Bright

Kloe Rinz

Alicia von Auslese

Celeste D. Auslese

Olivier Lenheim

Mueller Vander

Ragnard

Any combination of any of these characters could lead to interesting things. Some combo ideas:

In Phantasma, Kloe and Celeste talk... Estelle, Olivier or Mueller could be interesting too though... Or simply more about Celeste and the Hermit's Garden by herself.

Bright family time will always be welcome. And more love for Lena. Kloe and Estelle sister/best friend time.

Kloe and Olivier have a lot of potential for interesting interaction in how they parallel each other but are so wildly different at the same time. Kloe and Alicia family time!

Olivier & Cassius: I’m just really interested to see more interaction between these two whether while they’re still planning or something before Olivier goes back to Erebonia after Sky SC. Cassius can’t help himself when it comes to giving advice…

Olivier & Alicia: Royalty matters, knowing who Olivier actually is. Last meetings before he goes back to Erebonia?

Olivier&/Mueller stuff is all good

Ragnard: cool dragon is cool. Either something about him individually in the past? Or what he's up to now? A look at interaction between him and Cassius? Ragnard and Auslese (any of them)...?

Crossbell

Lloyd Bannings

Randy Orlando

Tio Plato

Elie MacDowell

KeA Bannings

Alex Dudley

Zeit

Sergei Lou

No ships here please.

Bonding and found family is the name of the game here! Tio and Zeit spending time together. Lloyd and Randy having bro time or Lloyd trying to remind Randy that he does indeed belong with SSS. KeA and “Uncle” Sergei time! What might they do together, or what does KeA get Sergei to do with her? Lloyd and KeA spending time together, Lloyd spoiling KeA, KeA being a comfort to Lloyd. KeA turning on the charm on Dudley. Dudley and Sergei interaction. Any combination of any of the SSS related characters is great if you want a bigger SSS gathering. I love them all.

Anything exploring KeA's powers is very cool too.

Trails of Cold Steel

Alfin Reise Arnor

Priscilla Reise Arnor

Olivier Leheim | Olivert Reise Arnor

Mueller Vander

Valimar

Mint

Alfin, Olivier, Priscilla: The Arnors have it rough dammit. Some soft moment for any combo of these three? Reunions after Olivier comes back and isn’t dead? We were deprived! Entertaining sibling times. A Priscilla bonding moment with Olivier when he was still getting used to living in the palace. And of course individually they’re interesting in their own roles and I’m always down for more.

Mueller: Of course anything with Olivier is good in my books. I’m running under the assumption that since he shows up with Olivier in the triumphant not-dead return, that he wound up at Valleria while Olivier recovered and I would be very soft for any moment taking placing during that time period. But when it comes to those two sky’s the limit. I’m good with platonic or ship. Mueller having some interaction with either Priscilla or Alfin would be great too!

Valimar: Given his history and knowledge it’d be interesting to see a conversation with Olivier or Alfin given also their family name Cedric’s positioning and, well, all the history there. Alternatively I love his interactions with Mint and how respectful of her he is, so anything between those two yes please. Or just something exploring him by himself in some way would be cool too.

Mint: I’m particularly interested in her during CS III and IV times and with Valimar as above. However, any Mint shenanigans is a fun time. She’s doing her best!

#trick or treat #trick or treat 2021 #letters

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general-mahamatra · 4 years

Text

Visus Cæcus

Focus: Eret

Genre: Spooky Season

TW: Blood and injuries

Pairing: Platonic Fundy and Eret

Wordcount: 6283

Read it on AO3 here

Note: This is part of a trade with the glorious @strawberry10 !! They have my whole heart and this piece has been a work in progress for maybe a month now. It’s only fitting I post it so close to Halloween :)

The crunch of decaying leaves and broken twigs mixes with the soft chirping of birds. Sunlight peeks through the leaves, sending shadows across the path and illuminating the forest and accentuating the vibrant green of the foliage. On such a perfect afternoon, the forest is lovely. Tranquil and perfect--almost too good to be real.

A soft breeze rustles the canopy followed by the scutter of a squirrel climbing a nearby tree. Everything is serene… virtually untouched by humans despite the man-made path twisting through the forest.

It goes for ages, disappearing through the trees. Where it goes is impossible to tell with the way it turns. Undergrowth stretches over the brown trail, small bushes encroaching as young saplings reach across--a strain for sunlight.

Laughter breaks through the peace and the crunch grows louder. Shoes tread along the footpath, ignorant of the bugs that scuttle out of the way. Two people walk along the trail, bags on their backs, and dressed for a hike. They were chatting, entertaining each other as they made their way down the path.

One of them nudges the other, grinning as if they had just said the most clever thing. The other, a brunette, rolls their eyes with a small smile.

“C’mon Eret, you know I’m right!”

The brunette--Eret--scoffs. They shove the man back, just enough to make him stumble. “You are not. There’s no way that’s even possible!”

“What do you mean?!” He exclaims, eyes wide with shock. "I'm always right! I'm literally always right!"

"Fundy," Eret deadpans.

"Yeah?"

They stare at each other, quiet for a moment.

"How the fuck are peanuts meat?"

Fundy can barely contain his laughter as he tries to explain, “but they are! They’re literally meat, they’re with meat on the food pyramid. And, AND! They basically have the same protein. SO,” he points at Eret, “checkmate.”

“That’s not how that works!” Eret protests. “That’s not how that works at all! Just because they’re with the meat doesn’t mean shit!”

Fundy hums. “Uh-huh, sure.”

“They’re a nut!” the brunette whines. “They have nut in their name, they’re not ‘pea-meat’!”

The ginger chuckles, covering his mouth as the other tries to argue. It was clear Fundy wasn’t going to back down from the dispute, he had no intention to let Eret win, even when they had a point. Besides, he’s not dumb, he knows they aren’t meat. It’s just fucking hilarious.

After calming down enough to talk, the points to Eret’s pocket. “Get your phone out, prove to me they aren’t meat!”

“Fine! I will!” Eret fumbles with their shorts and pulls out their phone. A couple of seconds pass followed by an “aha! They aren’t meat!” They began to triumphantly read the blurb, far too confident over the fact that they won the debate. “Peanuts do not come from animals. So they are not meat. Although they are called a nut, they are not... a nut…” they trail off, a small frown appearing. “The peanut is a legume, related to the pea family.” Eret huffs and turns off their phone, shoving it in their pocket.

Fundy cackles, the sound disturbing a nearby bird. With a flurry of black feathers, it flutters off.

“It’s still not a meat,” they grumble.

Fundy steps closer to them, grinning as he pokes their shoulder. “But they’re not a nut~” he coos, clearly proud of his victory. If it could even be called that.

Eret rolls their eyes and shrugs the man off but the upturn of their lips is a hint of their amusement. They were enjoying the back and forth--it was far better than the two walking in silence. After all, they weren’t too sure they’d last a week in the woods if they didn’t have the sort of chemistry for lighthearted banter.

The two found the forest a week ago just driving around town and immediately decided to explore it, especially since they’re visiting Fundy for a couple of weeks. What could go wrong anyway? It’s just a forest in the middle of nowhere.

Though there were times as they were getting ready that Eret thought about some of the… warnings they’ve seen. They never took them seriously, but they always found the posts interesting.

They were warnings about going to certain places in the dark or at night--warnings about the things that stalk the cornfields of the Midwest or the forests around the world. Hell, even the creatures that lurk beneath the surface, just waiting for a ship to pass by to take without a warning.

As the two continue, Eret’s mind wanders. It drifts to the text posts they’ve seen and just how serious they seem. They were so detailed and specific, it made them start to wonder if maybe there was something behind them. There’s no way someone could come up with those warnings and make them so realistic without having something to back them on.

One that won’t leave them alone is a caution about the forests. The number of times they read it… they had it memorized at this point.

Start traveling during the day, it is always asleep by dawn and it will leave you be.

Never move at night.

Stay on the path at all times.

Never set a campfire outside of a designated area. It can smell the smoke and it will find you.

Always travel with a group. Never go solo. If someone gets injured, never leave them alone.

When the forest goes silent, stop moving immediately.

If you don’t, the crowns will come. When you see the crows, it sees you. Stop talking immediately, find a different way to communicate. It can mimic your voice.

When the crows swarm, run. Do not let them injure you. It can smell the blood.

If you stray from the path, find it again as soon as possible. The longer you are off the path, the more likely it will find you.

If you can't find the path, never stop moving at night. Rest during the day, run during the night. It hunts at night and if you stop, it will attack.

Keep anyone injured close, never leave them alone.

If you hear someone call for help, do not go to it. It’s a trap.

Eret shakes their head to clear the thoughts. There was no reason to be thinking about the list. The paranoia is stupid. It was made to scare people--a short thing for the niche group of people addicted to horror.

They're on a hike with their best friend, not on an exploration trip to try and get murdered by some forest monster. Whatever that forest monster is.

The thing is only ever referred to as "it".

But the reassurance that it's fake doesn't do much to calm Eret's nerves. If anything, it leaves them anxious--wondering if maybe… just maybe it isn't fake.

No, stop. It's fake, it's literally fake. Why the fuck would this stuff be real?? They think. It's just a forest.

The absence of their friend next to them is what makes Eret pause and look around. So caught up in their thoughts, they didn't even realize Fundy stopped walking. Turning, they find the ginger frowning, brown eyes staring at something obscured by the trees.

"Fundy?"

The man raises a finger to his lips, shushing Eret. Slowly, he points to his ear and glances at the brunette. "Do you hear that?"

Confused, Eret looks the same way Fundy is. When greeted by nothing but trees and chirping, they shake their head.

"Listen closer," Fundy insists.

Eret glances at Fundy, slightly concerned but curious nonetheless. They fall silent, this time trying to focus on the noises around them.

At first, there is nothing but the regular ambiance of the forest. Nothing out of the ordinary.

A few more seconds pass before they finally notice it. A rustling--faint and distant. It only grows louder, almost as if it’s approaching. It puzzles Eret, making them frown slightly as they comment, “What… is that?”

Fundy steps closer and squints into the trees. His hands wrap around the straps of his bag, his quizzical expression mirroring Eret’s feelings.

“I have no idea.”

The two stand there, watching. Maybe if they were thinking straight, they would’ve continued. But not everyone is bright, are they?

It’s the first crow darting out of the dense tree line that makes them jump, the bird squawking and frantically flapping its wings. Eret watches it, mouth agape as they stare. Confused, they can’t pull their gaze off the struggling bird.

They don’t even realize the shuffling is still getting louder.

Eret points at the bird and turns to Fundy. “You’re telling me we got scared by that?” There’s a slight smile on their face that only falters when they realize Fundy isn’t smiling and is instead still looking at the trees. “Fundy?”

The ginger doesn’t respond and instead backs up. Slow at first, speeding up within seconds as he grabs Eret. “Move, MOVE!”

Eret doesn’t get a chance to react before more birds burst from the trees. Their screeching is quick to overwhelm the two as a couple of birds turn into ten, then twenty, then a giant shrieking mass.

Feathers are everywhere, flying around as the crows swarm. They twist and turn, diving around as they grab each other with their talons. They rip each other apart, spraying blood and guts everywhere. The cawing never stops as bodies drop to the hiking trail, the hot crimson liquid misting the two humans as they try to get away.

And then the birds turn their attention elsewhere: right on the two.

“GO GO GO!” Eret cries, throwing their hands in Fundy’s direction. They make contact and manage to shove the man, forcing him to turn around and book it to the trees. He’s able to get his arms over his head to protect him from the birds. Eret, though?

They weren’t fast enough.

Crows latch onto them. Peck them, claw them. Their clothing tears under the sharp talons as Eret tries to swat the frenzied animals away. Panic gripped them and completely emptied their mind of conscious thought. It left them running off instinct, and it’s their downfall.

It only takes a couple of heartbeats for the crows to start digging into their skin. They shred the brunette’s shoulders, drawing blood under their sharp claws. Eret cries out and frantically tries to rip the birds off.

But a slash to their cheek is what utterly terrifies them.

They don’t even hear Fundy shouting at them to run.

Some of the birds stick to their upper body, but others go for Eret’s head. More specifically their face.

Razor-sharp claws do their work. They make the brunette finally start to try and cover their face. Even with the birds in the way, Eret did what they could, trying to force the animals away. But not before the most excruciating pain they’ve ever been in radiates from their face.

A blood-curdling scream tears through their throat. High--full of terror and agony. Their hands were on their face as the birds kept coming. But the simple touch only makes it worse, stinging every open wound they touched. Made Eret lower their hands only for them to come away hot and sticky. Bloody.

Eret stumbles back, shaking and terrified as the birds keep coming. They’re quiet, trying to back away…

Another slash to their face.

The world goes black.

They can't stop screaming.

Hands grab their shoulders and drag them back. Eret struggles to stay upright, feet catching on roots and bushes. They fumble around, frightened. They can’t tell where they’re going or who’s holding him or what’s going on. Their hands shoot out and grab onto a tree. Nails dig into the bark, break under the pressure.

A whimper falls from their lips as they continue to be pulled along.

But the birds are gone.

Eret’s pulled along for a few more paces before they’re stopped. They stumble, lightheaded and sick for reasons they don’t understand. All they know is the feeling of something trailing down their cheeks. Blood… tears… a mix? It’s everywhere.

Arms wrap around them, stabilizing them. A soothing voice follows the action.

“Eret… Eret listen to me, I need you to listen to me.” Fundy. Their friend. “Eret please, look at me.”

They turn slightly, blindly following the man’s voice. It’s dark… Why is the forest so dark…

A hand guides their head, making them turn a bit more.

“Open your eyes,” Fundy says.

It’s then Eret realizes they’ve been squeezing their eyes shut the entire time. It hurt so much to open them. Like something is stuck in them, stabbing their eyes every time they try to look around. They reach up, pressing their hands to their eyes only to gasp. The shock of pain that rushes through them is enough to make them let out another small whimper.

The hand never leaves their face and Fundy tries again. “Eret, don’t- stop. Don’t touch them just open them, please.”

Eret shakes their head.

The pain…

It’s horrible.

They’re shaking at this point, arms now wrapped around themselves as they lower their head. They don’t pull away from the touch… instead, they lean into it a bit.

The only soothing thing in the world of agony Eret’s living in.

“Eret… please,” Fundy begs.

A shaky breath. They look up and open their eyes. The sound that comes out of their friend is nearly lost to Eret as they immediately close them again. It hurt… so much. More of whatever was in their eyes fell down their face, wet and sticky. It trails into the corners of their mouth, leaving a salty… coppery tang on their tongue.

Blood and tears.

Fundy starts mumbling. Eret doesn’t understand him. Everything around them fades out, sounds becoming muffled as if their head had been dunked underwater. Their stomach knots and their body sways. A dizziness takes hold, making their breathing short and head spin. They can’t seem to catch their breath, every inhale shorter than the last as they struggle to breathe.

Eret digs their nails into their arms. They couldn’t focus. Couldn’t think.

The bag on their back is really heavy, teetering their balance.

Take it off…

Cold, clammy, unsteady.

So much is overwhelming and yet there’s nothing at all. The world is dark and quiet but the pain in their eyes reminds them they’re still awake. The feeling of Fundy’s hands on Eret’s elbows trying to keep them upright…

They open their mouth as if to talk but all they can do is wheeze.

Breathe breathe breathe…

A second passes and their knees buckle. Eret collapses against the ginger and before they even drop that far, they fall unconscious.

Eret moans as they wake up, body sore. Their head is fuzzy, mind vacant of thoughts. Everything is black and their awareness of their surroundings is gone. The only things they can tell are they’re lying down, the bag is gone, and there’s a weird pressure on their face. It rubs weird and keeps their eyes shut when Eret tries to open them.

The pain that follows only makes them whimper.

But then a voice… someone is talking to them. It’s inaudible. Can’t tell who’s talking.

Shuffling followed by someone’s hand on their shoulder.

They nod off as the person tries to get their attention.

The next time they wake up their arm is slung around someone’s shoulder. An arm around Eret’s waist is what’s keeping them upright as they’re being partially carried, partially dragged through the forest.

Their foot catches on a root, causing them to stumble. Eret’s reaction is delayed to the point they’re guided by the man carrying them, only barely managing to pull their foot away with the man’s help.

“Come on… ..almost… ..got this.” Fundy. It’s Fundy carrying them.

Eret doesn’t catch much of what the ginger says, only nodding in reply, hoping that it’s the right answer.

Fundy’s hold on them tightens.

Time passes as a blur. Unable to see, Eret is barely able to tell how long they’re awake. Sometimes they fade to unconsciousness, sometimes they’re aware and helping walk around. Their sense of direction has long since vanished as well, the brunette completely relying on the man carrying him.

Eret trips; their legs come out from under them. Fundy catches them, a death grip on the brunette.

“I gotcha.”

Fundy’s mumbling under his breath. They’re still moving, only much slower. He’s messing with something at the same time, Eret can tell from the way the man is struggling to hold them up with one arm.

“Come on… Turn on…”

“Where the fuck is the path?” Fundy mutters.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Don’t die, come on!”

Eret gets tugged along, Fundy seemingly more frantic than before. He’s moving fast, trying to get the taller one around obstacles with less care than before. Panicked, almost.

Both hands are on Eret now. Tight, nails digging into their wrist.

The ginger breathes heavily and Eret can feel him shifting around, constantly looking back.

“Eret, Eret wake up. Wake up right now.”

They lift their head, dazed and confused as they once again become aware. Their face scrunches up as they turn their head towards Fundy.

“We gotta go, you gotta move,” Fundy hisses. He sounds freaked out… Eret can’t figure out why. “You gotta move.” He starts to pull them along, forcing them to get their feet going.

Caught off guard, they lose their balance. Fundy doesn’t wait, not this time. He continues to tug Eret along, set on wherever their destination was. Forces Eret to get their act together and stay upright. They try their best, struggling quite a bit to keep up.

Eret manages to hold their own despite being unable to see. With their feet on the ground and the ginger guiding him around trees and undergrowth, the rush becomes easier. It gives them a chance to finally talk. “Why are we-?”

Fundy shushes them. Pulls them along faster. “Stop talking, just keep moving.”

They fall silent.

Eret didn’t even realize they passed out again until they’re suddenly being dragged along the forest floor. Arms wrap under their shoulders and around their chest; their feet trail through the brush and debris.

They lift their head. Barely moves much else, lulling in a fit of exhaustion.

Breathing is hard… really hard. Short, rapid, erratic. Can’t get enough in can’t take a deep breath why is it so hard to breathe?

They start to move but it’s sluggish. Weak hands reach up and try to pry the arms off.

Breathe… need to breathe…

Fundy is quick to try and get them to stop. "Stop- stop it! Quit moving, you're only going to slow us down more!" His voice is low and hurried. It seems strained and distant…

...is he running from something?

The brunette wakes up to being propped up against a tree. The two had stopped moving at some point. When, Eret wasn't entirely sure.

With Fundy no longer holding them up in some way, Eret assumes the guy had finally found them a place to stop so he could sleep. It only makes sense.

Rubbing their eyes, they come to find their face covered in bandages. The rough cloth was stark compared to the smooth skin they expected to feel. Carefully, they run their fingers along with the bandages. They're wrapped around most of the upper half of their head, concealing their eyes and ears.

Covering the horrible wounds that mar their face.

Lowering their hands, they find more haphazardly wrapped gauze around their shoulders. It pokes through their shredded shirt.

Makes them wonder just how bad it was.

Their hands shake as Eret pulls them away from their chest. So much so fast…

The two just wanted to hike, to explore. And yet within hours, everything had gone to shit.

And now they have no idea what time it is or where they are or where Fundy is.

"Fundy?" They try to sit up further, looking around despite being unable to see. Somehow the darkness only makes the world lonely.

There's shuffling nearby followed by the crunch of leaves. "You're awake!" More movement and then a hand is on Eret's shoulder. "How are you feeling? You alright?"

A stupid question really.

Eret feels like shit. Constantly being jostled around while unconscious, waking up over and over and being forced to run… it's hard to feel alright after all of that. And yet, at the same time, they were in considerably less pain than before.

"I'm… okay?" They sound uncertain. "What happened?"

Fundy doesn't say anything at first. He seems lenient to explain and the silence has a weird air to it. It doesn't sit well with Eret.

Soon enough, the ginger says, "a lot. So much.” There’s a pause. “After we got thrown off the path by those birds we got lost and… and I tried to get back to the trail.” The hand falls away, fingers trailing along Eret’s shoulder before dropping entirely. “I couldn’t find it. But! You slept pretty hard I’m glad you’re alright.”

Eret frowns. That… That’s not…

That didn’t explain what happened every time Eret woke up. The carrying, the running, the dragging, none of it.

“What else?” they press, tone skeptical. “We were running, right? Why did we run?”

And there’s the hesitation again. Almost like Fundy doesn’t want to answer him. “Uh- It- It was nothing! Nothing really!” The man spoke quickly, voice pitching up at the same time. “Just thought I saw the path!”

Odd.

“Where are we?” Eret asks.

Leaves crunch as Fundy moves. “Somewhere in the forest. I don’t fucking know where.” He sighs. “I got lost last night… I have no fucking clue which way is what.”

Night.

“You mean it’s morning now?”

“Well, yeah.”

< If you can't find the path, never stop moving at night. Rest during the day, run during the night. It hunts at night and if you stop, it will attack. >

The thoughts come back, whispering in their ears and latching on to Eret’s conscious mind. Paranoia and anxiety refuse to leave them alone, pushing for them to think about the short list. That horrid, horrid list.

< When the crows swarm, run. Do not let them injure you. It can smell the blood. >

Eret froze, their entire body growing tense. It's just a list, it can't be real. Some stupid post they saw one day that happened to stick with them. They're just paranoid.

< “We gotta go, you gotta move,” Fundy hisses. He sounds freaked out… Eret can’t figure out why. “You gotta move.” He starts to pull them along, forcing them to get their feet going. >

They reach out, shaking hand finding itself on Fundy's shoulder. "Fundy," Eret says slowly. It earns a small hum. "What did you see?"

The voice that answers is quieter than usual. Small, frail almost. Vulnerable in a way Eret has never remembered Fundy being.

"I- I don't know."

The two ended up sleeping, exhaustion overtaking their need to stay awake and leaving them napping throughout the day. Though, more often than not, Eret finds themselves awake. Sitting propped against the tree, head resting against the truck as they stare up into the black expanse that is their vision.

They never were claustrophobic. Small spaces didn't make them feel too bad despite their height. Busses, trains, rooms… they were always fine. But the inky darkness that became their reality is constricting. It wraps around their body, suffocating them and leaving them to writhe and struggle in isolation.

But it's all mental. Up in their head in a world only they know; a world they'll never escape. The only signs of the toll the blindness takes on the man are the faint, quick breaths in and out. And with Fundy asleep somewhere nearby, there's no one there to see Eret holding themselves, lips pressed in a line as they try and stay calm.

If there weren't bandages over their face, maybe a trail of tears would adorn either cheek.

Shuffling makes them perk up. Drags them out of their head and forces them to pay attention to their surroundings. Something was moving nearby.

“Fundy?” Eret calls quietly, just in case the man was still sleeping. The lack of a response is enough of an answer. “Hello?” Now it was more directed to whoever or whatever was moving around.

Not like an animal could reply to them, but maybe someone was wandering off the path. Someone who could get them out of the damned forest. It was worth the shot.

When nothing answers them, Eret sighs and leans back against the tree. The small flicker of hope that ignited in their chest dwindles, snuffed out by the silence.

How far from the path are they anyway?

For all Eret knew, they could be ten feet away. Move around a couple of trees and there it would be. The man-made trail hikers travel on every day covered in sticks and decaying leaves, surrounded by beautiful plants and scenery and just… perfect.

But they’ll never know. They’ll never know just how close they are to the stupid path because those fucking birds STOLE THEIR SIGHT.

They take a deep breath, nostrils flaring as their hands ball into tight fists. A second passes and they slam the side of their hand against the cold hard ground. Frustration and anger isn’t a common emotion for Eret, it never has been. But sitting there with one of the most important senses ripped away from them, drowning them in a world of perpetual darkness… it’s starting to get hard to keep their emotions in check.

Sighing, they force themselves to relax, fingers uncurling and shoulders slouching. There’s no way the two of them are gonna be able to get out if they can’t stay calm. With so little experience getting mad, there’s no telling what could happen.

Tilting their head back, Eret stares up towards the sky. Wonders what it looks like… how the canopy must look with the yellow leaves dispersing the golden rays from the sun across the forest floor.

Shifting grass right next to Eret startles them. It’s faint, only audible because of the silence that hovers in the clearing, and it confuses them. Sitting back up, they carefully reach their hand towards the sound.

They lower their hand, fingers outstretched as they try to touch whatever is there. It could be a rabbit. A fuzzy little animal just hopping around trying to find something to eat or somewhere to sleep…

What they feel is not a bunny.

Slimy and boney, gnarled like a tree root but warm like a living creature. It writhes beneath their hand, moving around like a… a finger.

The sound that comes out of Eret is one of disgust and horror. A distorted scream rips through their throat as they try to pull their hand back only for whatever it was they touched to grab their wrist. A strong, wretched hand tightens its grip. Larger than a human’s, nails sharper than should be possible. Digging into their wrist, slicing up the delicate skin.

They kick out, squirming in the thing’s hold as they try to shove it away.

“Let GO of me!” they shriek.

Their foot makes contact with something solid. A grunt follows and the grip loosens.

THUD.

The thing lets go, a warbled cry following suit. Heavy breathing can be heard above Eret before something heavy is dropped on the ground. Barely even a second passes before Fundy speaks, the man on the ground next to Eret with his hands on their shoulders.

He sounds breathless as he talks. “Hey, hey it’s alright. Eret. Eret, look at me.”

Probably the worst thing someone could say to a blind man but it got the brit to react anyways. They turned their head slightly, hoping they were facing the right direction. They reach out, trembling hand finding a perch on Fundy’s arm. Once certain they were holding the ginger, their grasp tightens. A grounding.

“Breathe,” Fundy directs. “For the love of God, please calm down. It’s gone, you’re alright- we’re alright.” The reassurance is partnered with the gentle pull into a hug. Arms--human arms--wrap tenderly around their body. The ginger stays there despite the tension in the brunette, refusing to pull away until Eret finally melts, burying their head against Fundy’s shoulder as they return the gesture.

Fists ball into Fundy’s shirt and a choked sob rattles through the brit’s body. The slow-motion of the ginger rubbing their back is joined by what sounds like his own struggle to keep from crying. Hiccuped inhales and steady exhales… Fundy was... Trying…

Eventually, Fundy whispers, “it’s evening, we need to keep moving.”

Walking with the guidance of someone with sight is more off-putting than trying to learn a new language. At least, that’s what Eret would compare it to. It’s like relearning how to walk. Their perception of reality permanently altered, sense of balance destroyed, and their ability to perceive their surroundings forced to rely on their hearing and touch. But surrounded by a thick forest, they’re more than thankful for how accommodating their friend is.

Fundy laughs quietly. “Come on, you know it’s true.”

Eret scoffs, wishing they could roll their eyes at the man’s stupidity. “I can’t believe this is your focus right now.”

“Would you rather me talk about the fact we’re lost in a forest nearly out of food traveling in the middle of the night with no service, a dead phone, and your severe lack of a phone?” Fundy asks, voice deadpan. “Personally, I think my Minecraft boyfriend is far more important.”

Using their free hand that’s not wrapped around Fundy’s shoulder, the brit lightly punches the ginger’s side. “You proposed to him with a diamond only for him to get possessed! And then he had a fucking baby and George claimed to be the father!”

“WELL,” Fundy started, “that’s beside the point. Fuck you.”

Eret chuckles with a fond grin. It’s nice, being able to have a normal conversation despite the impending doom of whatever the hell went after the brit back where they were resting.

A slight discomfort is felt on the back of their head, making them shiver. A weird feeling. One that sets them on edge and spikes their anxiety. But they ignore it, preferring to focus on Fundy.

"Can't believe you got engaged and your man had-"

"Help!" The distance cry of what sounds like a young child can barely be heard. At first, Eret thinks it may be a trick of the ears, the wind whistling just right through the leaves. But Fundy stops walking.

He heard it too.

The child calls out again and it sets in stone the reality of the situation. "Please! Help!"

The two adjust their course and start to make their way towards the voice. Stumbling through the undergrowth, tripping on loose plants, and smacking against low hanging branches.

< If you hear someone call for help, do not go to it. It’s a trap. >

The wails grow louder but so does a weird smell. It makes Eret scrunch their nose, face contorting to one of disgust when they're first hit by the scent. "What the fu-"

Fundy shushes them, shutting them up. He doesn't clarify why, simply pulling the brit further along. Closer and closer to the cries of the young child.

"I want my mommy!" The kid cries, voice cracking with sadness.

The two come to an abrupt halt and the horrendous stench assaults Eret's senses. Malodorous and foul, it makes them gag as the smell becomes unbearable and so fucking strong they can taste it.

Eret covers their mouth, biting the inside of their cheek to keep from vomiting right then and there. Nothing could describe what they were experiencing. Nothing would ever be able to describe it. From everything they’ve dealt with in their lives, nothing prepared them for the sheer revulsion they were feeling

Something they vaguely remember their mother telling them creeps into their mind.

< “You never forget the smell of rotten human flesh or burning flesh. People say it haunts them for years.” >

They blocked that memory out years ago but now that they’re standing there, struggling to keep their head clear because of the stench, they can’t help but think about it again. Their head spins, dizziness growing as they reach up to cover their mouth.

Buzzing… Is that buzzing? Is all Eret can hear now that the child has gone silent. Loud and annoying, way too similar to the sound of a fly.

The tickling feeling of a bug landing on their hand is what confirms their suspicion. Shaking the bug off, they go to grumble a complaint but it’s drowned out by Fundy’s panic-stricken commands as the ginger drags them back.

“Come on- Eret work with me we need to fucking move right now.” He lets go of the brit, instead of focusing on grabbing their shoulders and spinning them around, shoving them back the way they came. Forces them to run--to get their legs moving.

The young child calls out again. “No- wait- please! Come back! Where’s my mommy?”

Fundy’s grip moves from Eret’s shoulders to their wrist, now pulling them along. Weaving between trees, ignoring their protests as they stumble around and run into branches. The two don’t stop moving and soon enough, Eret figures out why.

Crashing follows them. Plants being trampled and branches being ripped apart. Distorted voices begging for the two to come back. Children, adults, boys, girls… all warping and twisting like a broken record.

“Please, come back-”

“-not scary-”

“Hurt you! We won’t!”

“Come back…”

“I wanna go home.”

Heavy breathing… feet slamming against the hard ground… being yanked around every which way as Fundy navigates the forest. Getting them away from the thing chasing them, away from the horrible image Eret can only imagine had been laid out before them.

Their shoulder rams into a tree and the brit gasps and trips up, feet catching against the roots and making them stagger, nearly falling right then and there. The shocking pain that shoots down their arm disorients them. Hit right on the bandaged gashes from the birds’ sharp talons.

It makes Fundy grab them by their upper arm, becoming a better support as their fleeing continues. “Come on, keep moving. We gotta keep going.”

Eret’s only response is a nod.

Move.

Keep moving.

A warbled shriek from behind makes them cringe. Panic and adrenaline. A rush to run. Get away.

Run.

It’s the motivator that gets Eret to finally match Fundy’s pace, finally managing to ignore the obstacles in their way as best as they can. Trying to get away from the creature right on their tail.

“I think-” Fundy pauses for a moment. “I think I see something!”

A small spark of hope ignites in Eret. What the ginger sees, they have no idea, but that doesn’t stop them from hoping. Maybe, just maybe-

An excited cheer comes from the ginger. “Yes! YES! LIGHTS!”

Safety.

The two continue their push forward, exhaustion starting to set in and nearly making the brit slow down. But they can’t. They can’t. They’re so close…

Something grabs their ankle and tugs. Pulls their foot out from under them and sends Eret flying to the ground. They slip from Fundy's hold, falling into the dirt with a cry cut off by the wind being knocked out of them. They reach out, scrambling for purchase as the thing pulls them back. Nails did into the dirt, rip up small shrubs…

They finally get their hands on something. A tree root. Rough bark digging into their skin, leaving small cuts as it scraped against their palms. "FUNDY-"

They kick, doing everything they can to hold onto the roots while trying to dislodge the creature. It’s to no avail, the thing tugging and nearly making Eret let go. The bark shreds their hands and rips their nails. Makes them scream. Makes them almost lose their hold.

The ginger says something. What it is, Eret can't tell, but it vaguely sounded like "hold on."

No shit.

A pained, gargled cry, and then the creature let's go.

Fundy's helping them up now, getting Eret to their feet so they can keep running towards the lights. "They're so close, we're almost there!"

Breathing ragged, the brit does what they can to stay upright and focused on moving. It burns…

Their breath hitches when they run into another tree and it takes Fundy guiding Eret to put their arm around his shoulders for support to get them to ignore it.

It hurts…

Eret flinches when the ginger starts shouting. Presumably at whoever had the lights. They can’t process the words but from what registers, the man seems just as hopeful as the brit.

The two slow down, finally done running. More hands find themselves on Eret’s shoulders and arms, more voices speaking up and talking all at once. The touch makes them snap into reality--makes them listen to what’s going on.

The first thing they hear is Fundy. Breathless, happy, relieved. And a hand on their cheek as Fundy lets go of them… then they’re pulled into a tight hug. A head buried against the crook of their neck, cold, shaking hands wrapped around their shirt…

“We did it,” Fundy whispers. “We’re out…”

Eret returns the embrace, limbs weak and movements slow. They refuse to let go. Even when the ginger begins to profusely apologize. On and on… and Eret refuses to listen.

They’re safe.

#eret #the eret #fundy #itsfundy #dream team rpf #rpf #prince's writing #horror #halloween #spooky szn :)#l'manberg #dream smp #dream smp rpf #fanfic #platonic

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mma3youf · 3 years

Text

FA222 ,principles of graphic design:

Instructor: mr.munwar mukhtar

@uob-funoon @mnwrzmn

Project 1 : interviews

What is your given name, and user name on ZBrush Central?

My name is Khalid Abdulla Al-Muharraqi, my ZBrush Central user name is "Khalid72".

Tell us about your company, how did you start?

I set up Muharraqi-Studios to continue my family's history in the creative world and I am trying to continue to build on what my father started. The company was set up about two years ago after I left the commercial world of advertising with my partner Rashad who decided to leave a career in banking. We wanted to get together to make a place that allows us to be more creative. Since then we have been fortunate enough to work on some of the biggest projects in the middle east, and also continue working on our ideas and concepts, like our movie project. The most important thing for me is the work I do and that's what we are all about.

What is the size of your company?

The company is me and my partner, oh and our secretary... Keesha, a German Shepard! I am a hand's on guy and I do all the creative work myself. At first, I thought it was normal to carry that load because of the speed I work in, but later found out that I am actually very fast compared with bigger teams of artists in other studios. Finally I understood what people were telling me when they said I was 'unusual'. That’s why some of the CG magazines in Europe were amazed that a lot of our work is done by a one man team that puts all the 3D components together into a visualization. I work about 13 to 18 hours a day, I love 3D work, so my hobby and my work has joined into one, so … yes, very little time for a normal life.

What type of projects do you work on?

Well, I have been working on Architectural Visualizations since we started a couple of years ago, but I try to satisfy my urge to do what I really like, art!

You're located in Bahrain, somewhere most of us don't know about. Can you tell us how you learned your trade?

I love this question, Yes Bahrain is a small Island in the Persian gulf, we speak Arabic as our main language and English for the second, I will answer the second part in two parts, If you mean The art... I would say that I come from an artistic family, my father is one of the most well known artists in this part of the world, you can say that he is a household name in these parts. If you are asking were did I learn the 3D or CG art, I would say that I learned it by practicing for 8 hours a day after my official day of work, so I guess you can say I have been my own teacher in the industry.

Tell us a bit about your client base, mostly local, or do you have clients in Europe, Asia, America?

We serve clients from the Middle East, Europe and the Americas, I would say that I have been fortunate enough to have worked with some of the top people in the architectural industry, most of our clients are attracted to the type of work that we produce.

ow long have you been an artist?

Since I was six...I think! Well, the first painting I have sold when I was eleven. I was always painting and trying to find new techniques that will help create the concept in my mind.

Tell us about your background, your education, your mentors...

I studied art in Houston Texas for over seven years between interior decoration, photography, Visual communication, and digital enhancement or photo retouching, from there I have continued my working career in the commercial world. My first mentor would have to be my father, learned everything I know from him. He gave me the push start into the art world and made me feel it. There are also the books and artwork he has exposed me too with some of the top art in the world. A lot of names come to mind but I would say Frank Farazeta, Boris, The Creepy magazine and of course all the original Mad magazines and books that were very hot in the early 80's.

When you became an artist, did you first use traditional media?

For sure, I started with Pencil then got into crosshatching with ink, then I started painting with water colors and gouaches. I finally got into air brush art before I tried CG art.

What was your first CG package? What is your first 3D Package?

Nice question... first CG software was PSD, version 2, it was like magic... It felt strange especially that I was a traditional artist at the time. My first 3D package would be Alias Sketch for the Mac since I was a Mac user for a long time and did not have much 3D developers for Mac at the time. It was a new world for me and I think I still have a dusty copy of it today even after the software was canceled back in the early 90's, it just reminds me of my past.

How long have you been using ZBrush?

It has only been about six months, but I was up and running almost a few hours after I purchased it.

What made you try ZBrush?

I was watching some of the tutorial videos on how to paint details on the Gnomon training DVD's, and that's when I was shocked to see that it is art on the computer! I did not believe it at first, but It was one of the happiest moments when I first installed my first copy of ZBrush and started painting geometry for the first time, it reminded me with the days when I was pushing and pulling real clay to make a small creature of my imagination when I was a kid.

What's your favorite ZBrush feature?

The ability to paint geometry like it is physically in my hands.

How has ZBrush enabled you to express yourself in ways other packages couldn't?

Well you cant really compare it with any other software, it's simply too different! It changes how a CG artist works, it changes how he looks at things, has changed the industry to the next future leap, and who would want to go back to the past....? I would simply say that the concept of the software is very smart and impressive, my only wish to add on it is to have a bigger view port :)

Now onto "Floating Islands"Tell us about your creative process, how did this concept emerge?

One evening when I was stuck in the studio waiting for clients approval on a project that I was preparing for the kingdom of Bahrain, I was trying to get free again and relax my mind from all boundaries, I started to sketch a concept that has bean in my mind since I was a kid, the island that was then discovered to be on the back of a whale, these were some of the old middle eastern stories about Sinbad's magical voyages.

Do ideas just come to you out of nowhere, or are there particular artists or work you are inspired by?

I am always inspired by everything that is beautiful, whether it is an artist or a design or just Gods creation, I would also say that I have always had my own style in my work and almost never try to follow a certain style that I have seen.

I love this piece, can you tell me about the process of creating it? Have you explored this style before? Or was this created for something specific?

The process was, a sketch or the map as I would call it, and that would be the basis of my creation, I almost never start without it, once I crack the direction then I would start thinking about the execution and the path to take. About the style, well I don't think of my work as style, I think it is more towards I do what I feel, it is only when I am finished with it that I say "Yes! That's what I was tying to do". I almost never tried to repeat a style that I have seen elsewhere on my work. I feel that It is like a code of respect between artists.

In your image "Floating Islands" where was ZBrush used?

ZBrush helped me sculpt the geometry and take it to the next level in a short time. Modeling, UVs, Painting and scenes setups was between Lightwave and Modo. With ZBrush I was able to put the final touches that would make it come to life. ZBrush helped me start painting the UV map textures and setting up the foundation of the look and feel. I also generated some of the whales textures by the amazing ZMapper ;)

Tell us about your pipeline.

I start with Modo, then go to ZBrush, then finally render with Lightwave. The thing with software today is that they work hand in hand to complete each other, for instance ZBrush is very specialized in what it does, it focuses on the need of the artist and helps the creator to complete his task sufficiently with a smooth flow, artists have never had it this good.

What projects are you working on now?

We have just completed the visualization for the Master Plan for the Kingdom of Bahrain with one of the leading Architectural firms in the world, we have helped restructure and rebuild old and new cities for the country. Now I will be working more onto the movie project that we have been trying to get the time to start, hopefully I will be able to focus more on creating more Characters and environments for the movie.

Any last comments for us?

I would like to say Thank you to Manuel at Pixologic and Pixologic for appreciating the work I do. I would also like to thank all the development team and staff at Pixologic for there dedication to work together to help create some of the best tools ever created for the CG industry, I always expect the ideas to be fresh and most importantly designed for the end user, the artist, allowing the artist to continue being an artist without the restrictions and boundaries of a computer.

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noragami-ru-manga · 4 years

Text

On Father’s eyes and Fujisaki’s soul

What better way to spend your afternoon than posting a meta right before the chapter drops and possibly destroys everything written in it?)

One of the many things about Father that the readers of Noragami find interesting is his eyes. Specifically how sometimes the shading on one of them is different from the other.

I’ve never really seen how that could be explained. The only volume cover with Father on it has him with one of his eyes closed. Luckily, I’ve recently started collecting all of the volume covers, including the inside covers. Now I know that Father is actually on TWO covers:

1) Volume 11 cover – you know, the one where he’s lying on a heap of newspaper clippings with the articles about the murders he had Yato commit;

2) Volume 16 inside cover.

And this is how he looks on both covers:

That’s it, everything’s clear now, nothing to see here anymore, everyone, go home.

Well, not really.

See, most of the time Father’s/Fujisaki’s eyes are actually evenly colored. They are dark, just like most of the other character’s in the series, regardless of whether he’s in the body of Fujisaki Kouto or out of it (you know, when he’s wearing that black yukata). That must be Fujisaki’s body’s eye color, the one that people who talk to him see. After all, not a single character has commented on this periodic heterochromia he has, so it probably doesn’t really manifest.

For the purposes of this meta I’ve looked at every.single.frame.with.Father.in.it. Also looked at some other characters’ eyes. My observations are listed below.

A character’s eye color often changes to indicate some sort of emotion. Hiyori, for example, has dark eyes (brown), like on the picture of the left. On the other picture they are much lighter than usual. This is a moment from chapter 36 when she thought they have no way of getting Yato out of Yomi, seconds before Amaterasu shows up (the picture on the right is actually from the same chapter, a couple of pages prior).

Sometimes a character’s eyes go completely white, like in the case of Bishamon here. On the left you can see her normal eye color (purple), on the right – the eye color when she’s shocked that the seven gods of fortune are accused of taming ayakashi.

Father’s eyes sometimes become white to reflect two states – either when he’s shocked (on the left) or when he’s plotting something (on the right):

However, in most of the scenes he’s in his eyes are dark and evenly colored:

I’ve actually found only 12 moments when the shading on of the eyes is slightly different. Still, other characters don’t have this feature, so ignoring it is not an option. Adachitoka’s art is very detailed; it can’t be a simple mistake or accident.

Here they are. I’m not so sure about chapter 77 though, ‘cause the different eye color in that one could be attributed to lighting. That’s not the case with the other ones , especially when it comes to Father’s introduction – the darker eye is on the lighter side of his face.

From what we see here, Father’s right eye seems to be darker in most of the cases, except for chapters 63, 80 and 81. Since I don’t see a clear rule on which eye is supposed to be get the extra lighting, I can’t really suggest that one of them means one thing and the other one means something else.

Then maybe we should look into what happens in the scenes themselves?

Chapter 24 – Fujisaki prevents Hiyori from falling down the stairs and tells her to be careful. Father already knows who Hiyori is; according to him, he moved to Tokyo to get to her specifically.

Chapter 39 – Father is telling Mizuchi that Yato will return to them.

Chapter 40 – Father says that he will allow Yato to make a couple of good memories because he’s such a nice dad. Moments earlier he was conducting an experiment – he used the new kotonoha to control a person possessed by one of his masks.

Chapter 44 – Father is talking about gods and how the way their human creator manipulates them is no concern of theirs.

Chapter 45 – Father is watching Kofuku’s house. He then creates a mask that possesses a boy and infiltrates Tenjin’s shrine to get rid of Edachi.

Chapter 63 – Father watches how Bishamon is trying to get to him while thinking that this way she will turn the Heaven’s execution squad’s eyes away from Yato.

Chapter 68 – Father fakes seeing Kazuma to make Bishamon turn her back to him. However, he notices several gods approaching to them and fleets.

Chapter 77 – Father kills “Bishamon”, who is actually Edachi.

Chapter 80 – Father says there’s a way to come back to life/come back from Yomi (he uses both of these phrases in his conversation with Yukine; whether they mean the same thing for him or not is yet to be revealed).

Chapter 81 – Father tells Hiyori that Yukine has started wondering about his past.

Chapter 87, picture #1 – Father suggests that Hagusa searches for his human name around the house.

Chapter 87, picture #2 – Father must be thinking about his past (the first 19 pages of 87-2 are probably his memories that segway into Nora’s tale).

Again, I don’t see a clear pattern here. I could say that these are all moments when Father is plotting something. But there are other scenes in which he does the same yet his eye color is ordinary.

So yeah, failed to notice any correlation between Father’s eyes and his thoughts and/or actions. However, there is one more option left – the different shading on one of the eyes could be a hint that there are two souls in the body of Fujisaki Kouto – his own and Father’s. After all, he has red eyes on the cover of volume 11, where his physical body is depicted, and blue eyes on the cover of volume16, where he’s in his spirit form.

I have mentioned several times now how I believe that Father possesses not just another person’s body, but their soul as well. It’s mostly based on two things:

1) In chapter 80 Father says that himself – that he possesses the soul of the Fujisaki family’s eldest son. This wording always seemed strange to me – why not say that he possesses the body? Of course, Father’s words can’t be trusted without further proof from other characters. In this case, the proof is Thing #2.

2) In chapter 81 Hiyori noticed Father flying above her head on a giant ayakashi, but her friends didn’t. If there were still people left who thought that Father doesn’t actually leave Fujisaki’s body, this moment should have finally convinced them. And during the fight Father showed Hiyori his true appearance, just for a split second. And we know that it actually happened, because Hiyori remembers it happening.

Of course, it’s just a theory. However, it brings up some questions.

1) When does Father transfer to another body (and soul) – right from the body’s birth or later?

2) What happens to the soul he possesses?

Let’s focus on the first one for now and see how Father can hop from one person to another.

1) Reincarnation in an infant’s body

Judging from Father’s words, this seems to be the case – he says that he lives and dies in other people’s bodies ever since his return from Yomi, and that he doesn’t get to choose. So when his current body, he is simply somehow born in another person’s body. And he keeps his memories, personality, goals and motivation, which is creepy of several reasons. The idea of a thousand year old man being in a toddler’s body is deeply unsettling. But it’s very inconvenient for Father, too – having the mind of a growing while being confined in a body that for some time can’t sit, walk and talk every time he is reborn. After all. he doesn’t have the luxury of being able to think rationally and talk without any learning the way reincarnated gods do. His abilities are restricted to the abilities of a human body, and even if they aren’t, he will have to fake it if he doesn’t want to raise suspicions.

And there’s also a question of how Nora must be the one controlling Yato when Father is too small to do that. If we take into account volume 8 omake, then Yato worked as a magatsukami when Fujisaki was a toddler, so it’s unlikely that he was the one finding the jobs, so Nora had to take over. I’ve thought about it, and yeah, I think she could actually handle that. Yato admitted that one of the reasons he kept doing the jobs was because he still somewhat enjoyed I, even the most recent time he returned to being a magatsukami. If Nora waited for an opening when yet another shinki would leave Yato, he would probably agree to do the jobs even without Father’s influence.

2) Possessing an existing human

By which that I mean that Father doesn’t live his life in a new body from the start but rather starts possessing a real existing person. We do have to take into account that he really doesn’t get to choose the person. Why would he choose some random student who doesn’t even live in Tokyo and had to move there? If Father could choose the body, he probably wouldn’t even need Yato. There are many means of destroying humans as it is. If he wanted to use them, all he needed was possesses the right person.

If Father can’t switch bodies on his own volition, there must be some conditions that prevent him from possessing any human he wants. Maybe his soul can only transfer to another person when his body dies? Or maybe there are conditions regarding the person that can be possessed? Divine possession, for example, requires a human and a god to have a special bond:

Maybe not every person can host Father’s soul.

This kind of possession eliminates the whole “grown man in an infant’s body” thing, but it’s not without its cons. It means that Father has to substitute another human and he has to work to successfully impersonate the human he knows nothing about. That being said, there’s nothing stopping him from cutting all the ties this person had before being possessed and moving elsewhere, so there’s no need to pretend. Overall, I think that this option would be more convenient for Father.

If this is the case, I’m curious to know when exactly Father started possessing Fujisaki. Let’s examine some of the things he tells about himself to see if there’s anything in them.

We know for sure that Fujisaki Kouto transferred to Hiyori’s school at the start of the new school year. In chapter 30 he tells a little about himself:

The part about Fujisaki having a sister and nieces is true, but the rest is fishy. When Father stopped coming to school after the rebellion, Yama found out that he had lied about living with his father who moved to Tokyo for work:

Why would Father lie about Fujisaki-senior separating from the family and tell the he only moved for work is unclear. It’s also not clear when did Father get rid of him, if that’s what Yama’s words imply. I do believe though that the apartment where he lives in Tokyo really was Fujisaki Kouto’s dad’s place. After all, moving in with your father, even if he left the family, is easier than finding a place on your own.

As for when did Father start possessing Fujisaki: on the first glance, the sudden move to Tokyo does seem to be exactly what I said he could do in so that he doesn’t have to pretend to be someone else. However, some scenes suggest that he has lived with the Fujisaki family for quite a while. Like how he has to correct himself when he starts referring to Fujisaki’s relatives as if they were his own. SO he had to be Fujisaki Kouto for some time; maybe even his entire life?

BTW, unless Father is lying, he was still living with Fujisaki-senior in summer. So if he did get rid of the “dad” after all, it must have happened later.

Whichever way Father possesses people, from birth or not, there’s the question of what happens to the body’s original soul, i.e. if it has a consciousness of its own, independent of Father. As usual, we have to rely on Father’s information in this case, too. Except he is a very, very unreliable source of information. On the one hand, his words about transfer exam must be true, since no one questions Fujisaki going to Hiyori’s school. He visits classes like everyone else and even does some extra work after school:

Here Fujisaki is so… normal, at least compared to what he’s like in later chapters that it’s almost like he isn’t Father. On the other hand, the Father side manifests itself within seconds:

All in all, I can’t really recall any specific scene where I could tell Father and Fujisaki apart. Even when he acts quite normal it’s much more likely that it’s just Father pretending to be a kind person rather than the real Fujisaki showing through. I’m afraid that either from the moment he was born, or some time after that, poor Fujisaki Kouto is no more than a vegetable, and his soul is completely controlled by Father. I think that they sort of merge into one, to be honest. Whenever Father leaves the body of Fujisaki, he has the boy’s appearance, but wears his own black yukata, the one we see in Yato’s flashbacks. Unfortunately, we can’t compare his case with anyone, since there’s only one other character who is a human able to leave her body – Hiyori. Unlike Father, Hiyori in her spirit from look exactly like her body, clothes and all. Since she is the only one to do so, we don’t know if that’s the norm, but it seems more logical than whatever is going on with Father.

These were my thoughts on Father’s eyes. Whether Adachitoka will ever uncover the secret behind his eyes or let it remain a mystery is hard to tell, but one Father’s differently colored eyes sure make him even more memorable.

#noragami #noragami meta #father #fujisaki kouto

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aresrl · 3 years

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Helloooo, I want to try this too, it's sounds very interesting.

I hope you don't mind me being anon.

Could you write me a matchup for a vision, a male partner and a best friend and, only if you're in the mood, a enemy?

WARNUNG: It's a long text. I'm sorry ;.;

Most people are telling me "I'm too good for this world." because I'm always friendly, I try to help the best I can, doing my duties without complaining and never really fight with someone.

But actually, I'm just someone who likes to analyze people and react accordingly to they behavior. I want to understand people and I think the easiest way is to watch them. I'm very calm with a lot of patience and like to give advices. That's why people often come to me if they have something on they minds. I'm getting kinda uneasy if there is something I can't figure out. So, I like when people give me detailed explanation or description about something they want or need.

And even if people think I'm so friendly and kind, what I am, don't get me wrong, I love my peace and alone time. I'm way more productive if I'm on my own, because I can focus more and it's quiet. Also, I'm not the type of person who likes to be surrounded by many people. Mostly because I'm not so good at keeping a conversation alive, but I try. I like being around people I'm close to.

The friends and family I have are everything to me. I hold them dear and I always be there for them and try to keep them away from any harm. If they would betray me (what some really did) I would be completely heartbroken. I'm always scared that my loved ones will leave me. It's my biggest fear.

For a relationship, I think the person need a lot of patience with me because, like I said, I like to be alone. I'm also not a very affectionate lover, because I don't have many experiences. I'm fine with all those holding hands, cuddles, kisses and all but I would rarely be the one who make the first moves. If my lover is upset about it, I would trying to be more affectionate for the love of my partner to make him happier. I just want him to be happy.

But there is one thing I absolutely adore. Lying down, holding each other and just enjoying the atmosphere. No words (maybe a few) just cuddling and listen to each others heartbeat.

Some more informations if they're necessarily:

Things I like: dogs, drawing and painting, reading, warm weather with a soft breeze (I love this), respectful and understanding people, nighttime (including stargazing), meaningful conversations

Things I don't like: heat, arrogance, loud noises, to be bossing around, uncertainty, crowds

I'm sorry, it truly is pretty long. I hope you don't mind.

I hope everything I wrote makes sense to you. Thanks for doing this, I'm looking forward to read it :D

Have a nice day and stay healthy!

(chin up if your day was not so pleasant❤️)

Hey! I don't mind people being Anon at all! I don't know if you will find it funny or scary but I always think people “too good for this world” will die early. Eh anyways here are your results!

You received... A Hydro vision! Generosity, devotion to people, always helping others, and mastery are the main characteristics of the Hydro vision. • Last time I forgot the mastery thing and reading the analyzing part made me remember that it was also a characteristic of the Hydro vision. It seems that you are a great analyzer, you have your own way of analyzing people and you seem to do it accurately. • I feel that if you want to have clear indications on what you need to do for someone it's not only to greatly fulfill the task (which would mostly look like a Geo trait) but it's to satisfy the person the most. • You have a strong bond with people. I don't know if that's the case but I wouldn't be surprised if every time you have to make a decision or you think about something important, you will first think about people you love, like if it would hurt them if it would be more convenient for them or what would they think about it. Your partner would be... Diluc! A silent but soothing relationship. Two icons of Mondstadt. • The first time he heard your voice was at Angel's Share where you were talking with Eula. The bar wasn't crowded so you were feeling comfortable enough to talk properly with her. You were debating about Kaeya. You didn't really know him but you still shared the feelings you had about him with her. Because of Eula's presence, the few present people at the bar became a bit more silent, letting Diluc hear better of what you were saying. “Kaeya? Hmm... I don't really know him but I feel something off... The few times I've seen him he seemed quite dramatic. But the kind of drama attitude you use to hide weakness.” • In addition to your calm voice, he also liked your perception. He wanted to know more about you. As you were about to pay with Eula at the counter, Diluc spoke: “I heard you talking about Kaeya earlier. You seem to have good intuition.” He paused and crossed his arms, looking elsewhere. “You can only trust half of what he says... At best.” • Sometimes you went back to Angel's Share (not purposefully but most of the time it was during his shift) to buy a bottle of a drink to your liking, and little by little you began to appreciate each other pretty well. • At the beginning of your relationship, both of you would be clumsy because of your lack of experience but slowly, you would learn together. After being more confident, you'd both engage things equally. Diluc would be very romantic with you. • You share a common thing with Diluc: serving Mondstadt. You during the day, helping people, friends or friends of friends with their tasks or problems and Diluc at night, preventing the evil to reach the city. • Even though his facade can show a grumpy man, you can see what's really inside and that's what you love. • You would share a lot of relaxing moments privately. Both of you like a calm atmosphere, perfect to share a great moment together. • You two are popular in Mondstadt. Diluc already has his reputation but you, you are loved because of your pure kindness towards everyone. You won't spend a lot of time together publicly but when you do, people feel like seeing celebrities in front of their eyes. Your friend would be... Eula! “How dare they befriend me while being so popular? They will just bring more attention to me and my plans of vengeance! For this, they must pay!” • You get along very well with everyone in Mondstadt (except one person that we'll mention later) but your best friend remains Eula. • You are very close and actually, there are no specific reasons why you get along well but you do! • Both of you talk freely and most of your discussions are interesting. • When you hang out, you always go somewhere to eventually improvise things. • She likes the fact that anything you'll engage you into, you'll do it with finesse and without a complaint. Your enemy would be... Kaeya! And it's not even Diluc's fault • You find him suspicious and you know for sure that you will never truly know why. • He considers you like a sort of threat so he will be especially careful

around you. He knows how to lie but he would get better at it to cover himself even more. Which is a clumsy move from him because it will make him even more suspicious to you. • You try to avoid his case with Diluc for fear of getting him annoyed. • Deep down, there is no hate between you two. Kaeya knows you're perceptive and it just makes him insecure while you just wonder what he is hiding, by innocent curiosity. Worth to mention (but you mentioned you didn't like uncertainty plus, this is a long list, so you can ignore it if you want) : • You would be a great ally for Beidou but I think you would refuse to be a part of her crew because of the inconvenient lifestyle. • You, Xingqiu, and Chongyun would form a great trio! It would be mainly led by Chongyun who's heading out for an exorcising, Xingqiu willing to join him and by the way, inviting you. You would accept because all the moments spent with them are wholesome and also because you would be curious about ghosts, even if at first you thought you'd be more of a bother than anything else. You'd be a great ally for Chongyun too: he needs calm and you are, both of you don't like heat and you could help him with anything, it would always be easy and not tiring tasks. • Xingqiu finds you honorable. • You are a great support for Ganyu. • Jean respects you a lot, she could even admire you. • You share similar values with Keqing so you get along well too. You can count on each other and you would even be invited to a shopping session with common friends. • There could be interesting things between you and Xiao because he would truly appreciate you. A common situation would be you going to Wangshu Inn because you'd need a place to sleep for a night or two and during your stay, you would meet Xiao randomly. You would both say hi, pleased to see each other, Xiao's face would relax by seeing you. But there's nothing more. If this happened in a universe where there is a reincarnation process, I'd say that you were together in a past life, only death has managed to separate you, and now, you meet again but live your lives respectively. I hope it suits you and I also hope you don't mind Diluc's part being very long (and the worth mentioning too) and actually my answer being longer than your description eventually haha I almost did nothing yesterday so I'm gonna catch up today. But before, I have to do my dailies

#genshin matchups #genshin impact #genshin request

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multifandom-hoes · 4 years

Text

Ideal Type 2

Member: Simon Dominic // AOMG

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Words: 2.9k

/ 1st Part // 2nd Part /

A couple of weeks has passed since the interview, and everyone seemed to have forgotten the moment during which she had proclaimed her ideal type. Not many notable events had happened ever since, really, other than Simon Dominic himself, her ideal type, managing to snatch her phone number and sending her encouraging texts. Her adoration for him grew every time she received one of such texts. Like right now.

Since people had moved on from her ideal type, the agency she was signed under thought it the best time to start preparing for a new comeback. And from there, there were a million practices, starting from practicing her Korean language knowledge, vocal lessons, going into recording songs, and then finally the choreographies for the new tracks, as well as practicing the older choreographies for different entertainment shows. Her schedule was packed, so much so that as soon as she was in the dorm, she would hit the hay straight away. And Simon D, or Jung KiSeok, KiSeok by her preference, never failed to bring a smile with his messages,

“The hard work will pay off with a number one win, you’ll see”.

He was most certainly a sweet man, she would think occasionally. Such smiles would sometimes be caught by the other group members as well, but rarely would anybody ask, as they were all busy with their own things, their own schedules.

Time went on quickly, and the encouraging messages were getting few, and far between, yet she had no time to truly ponder over them. And besides, she knew he was a busy man, he had his own thing to work on, and he was nothing but a “secret fan”, as he had once called himself. They weren’t really friends, and definitely not something more, even if her heart did stir in discomfort at accepting such things. She really couldn’t change their relationship at this stage, and definitely not through texts anyway. What’s more, the man knew of him being her ideal type, which was mortifying, embarrassing, horrible. She would never dare to meet him in real life. Nada.

It was in the midst of such thoughts when a text from none other than the man himself had come,

“I am working on a new EP right now, and I need a female vocal for one of the tracks…”.

Her hands were clenched from excitement as she gazed at the phone screen, waiting for a follow up message to ding, however, none ever came, and she realised that to get him to say what he wanted to say, she had to prompt him. And so she did,

“How can I help?”

“Yeah, so I was wondering whether you could ask your group members whether they could feature?”

“Huh?” her face muscles slacked as the sound left her lips, in utter and complete surprise. She was so expectant, waiting for the proposal, yet here he was. “Hah…” she smiled, a small smile, and then chuckled, but of course, what did she expect. Why would he ask her, specifically, to be featured on the track. Besides, that feature would do more harm to his EP and her group’s comeback, anyway.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll ask. No prob.”

Her heart was defeated, beating a rhythm to a sad song as she got up from her seat, about to walk over to the members of her group, when another text dinged, and hurriedly she opened it,

“I was kidding tho”

Again, like a fool, her heart started beating frantically.

“I want you to feature on that song. Your voice would be perfect for it. I wanted to ask you first before asking your company. Also, no pressure, I don’t wanna seem like a jerk by appearing as if I started texting you just for this moment.”

Before she could comprehend what she was doing, her fingers had already typed out a quick answer and had pressed “enter”.

“Yes”.

“Great, can’t wait.”.

Her mind was trying to catch up to the situation. Was it not just a couple of minutes ago when she proclaimed that she could never meet this man, Jung KiSeok, in flesh due to her embarrassment? Was it not just seconds ago that she stated that this collaboration would bring more harm to the two of them? She was a fool, a helpless fool, possibly crushing on this man whom she did not even see in flesh. How embarrassing.

And so time went on again, and once again, Jung KiSeok had not blessed her with any encouraging texts, although this time, she knew for certain that he was busy with his EP, and not simply fed up with encouraging her all the time. Her heart was at rest as she was promoting her group’s new album, appearing on many events, and radio shows.

This day, there was a fansign event, and as she was greeting her fans, signing their merchandise, and taking pictures, there was a sudden murmur in the event hall, and soon, she found out why.

A man stood before her, a black cap on his head, and a black face mask over half of his face. All she could see was his eyes, and even that was hard to accomplish as she had to squint and twist her head to see. There was something about this man, something familiar, yet she directed her thoughts elsewhere, mortified to accept them. There was no way that was Jung KiSeok in front of her. She must be getting delirious from thinking about him for too much, recently.

The man bowed in front of her, and put a file of papers for her to sign, and as she flipped through the file, albeit briefly, she was struck with even more shock. “How did you manage to make them agree on this collab? After the whole ideal type situation, there would’ve been no way they would have agreed to this?”

There was a slight pause, during which she stopped flipping through the pages and looked up into his eyes once more. “I have my tricks,” he said with a proud and deep voice. She breathed in a sharp breath. This whole situation was incredulous in her eyes. This was impossible. How..? “So will you sign this? I want to frame it on my wall,” she laughed in absurdity, quickly signing the documents and giving them back to Jung KiSeok. “Can’t wait to work with you in the future. Fighting!” and he moved on, although she could spot a crease where his eyes should be, figuring he was smiling. As was she.

To her side, she heard giggling, and soon felt a light tap on her forearm, as the members were smiling and teasing her. She only hoped no other scandal would break out.

It wasn’t long after the fansign when she received a text from the one person she had been gushing over, detailing the date and time and place where she should go to record the vocals for Simon D’s track. She would be a liar to say she was excited. She was more. Ecstatic, perhaps, if not on cloud nine.

As she stepped into his studio, she could feel herself getting faint. The first time she got to see him, she was overwhelmed by shock and surprise, as well as paying more attention to the documents than to the man himself. Right now, on the other hand, her focus was very much pointed to the idea of meeting him and the knowledge of him being her ideal type, and also the fact that she called him out to be her ideal type to the whole nation. The small part of her brain had managed to conjure the fact that he teased her by calling her his ideal type, but she knew he was just joking. There was no way it could be true. She could tell as much after reading all of the hate comments. After all, the netizens were right, the man was older, and had dated plenty of beautiful women. Compared to all of that, she was just some rookie. She was glad enough to be asked to be a feature on his EP. That was enough, and maybe, they could even become proper friends.

“You’re here!” a familiar voice rang in her ears, and she perked up, her previous dark thoughts vanishing in a blink. “Hope it wasn’t too difficult to find this place?”

It took her a second to realise he was making small talk, and after a horribly long pause, she managed to reply with a meek, bashful “No.”. Even to herself she sounded like a school-girl with a crush. It was embarrassing.

He was smiling at her, nodding at her answer, muttering “good” under his breath. “Take a seat, I’ll handle you the lyrics.” as he was dishing out directions, he was rummaging in one of the file cabinets that was in the corner, presumably looking for the lyrics sheet. “It’s a slow track, romantic, or even sexy. I don’t need anything too fancy with a lot of vibrato, or anything. I just need you to sing in your low tone, something sexy? We’ll figure it out as we go.” he told her as he handed her the sheet.

True to his words, the lyrics were sexy, alluring, romantic. She had no clue how to pull it off, but she knew for a fact that she would try the hardest to do it regardless. “I’ll look forward to your guidance. I haven’t quite done anything like this before.” she was glad for the sheet in her hands, as she could focus on it and the work that was to come, rather than his deep voice, handsome face, the serious expression making her gulp--.

“I know, your concept has been quite cute, right? Nothing girl-crush, or anything? But your voice is nice, it has depth and that’s what I need.”. Her heart did a flip. He had been following her group’s activities, if he knew of the previous concepts. This recording is not going to go well, if this is the kind of encouragement she was going to receive. She might have a heart-attack before she manages to record anything.

He was looking at her, waiting for her to give a sign and let him know that they were ready to record. His dark eyes, so deep, so mesmerising--, “I guess we can give it a try, first of all.” she spoke, smiling to hide her messy thoughts.

KiSeok sat down in front of the monitors, turning to face the booth just as she was stepping in. As she stood in front of the mic, she put her reading glasses on before the headphones. Being shortsighted sucked, particularly now that her ideal type had to see this side of her. “You need glasses?” he asked her through his own mic.

“Yeah, it’s not that bad, but since I don’t like holding the lyrics sheet, and the font is quite small, it gets blurry.”

There was a short pause before he spoke again, his voice quiet even if the noise was going right into her ears, “It’s cute on you.”

Her ears were burning at his words, but she pretended not to have heard anything at all, or else she knew she would make it awkward. “Let’s just prowl through, me…” she whispered to herself and from there started the recording session.

It took her a couple of tries, but she nailed the chorus, and was ready to burn the lyrics sheet to the ground, alongside everything in the building. Or maybe not. She didn’t want to put herself, or Jung KiSeok in danger. That would be foolish. Right?

She was tired, and her voice was no longer cooperating with her, getting strained. She sighed into the mic, ready to call for a break when an unfamiliar voice entered her eardrums. “That was amazing, (Y/N). Damn, I should’ve asked you to be a feature in my tracks too.” Her eyebrows rose up on her forehead as she took off the headphones and stepped outside the booth.

“Thanks, Mister JaeBeom.” she bowed to him, truly flattered by receiving what seemed to be a genuine compliment.

“She called you “mister”, oh man, haven’t heard that one in a long while…” the familiar deep voice laughed behind Park JaeBeom, the man himself, before slapping his shoulder.

“Just call me Jay, we don’t do formalities here.” Jay cringed while laughing, passing it off as a joke. “Anyway, you should definitely do a collab with me, your voice’s nice. The track’s coming along nicely, too. I just stepped by to check up on you two, but you seem to be doing better than expected.”

“Thank you.” she said, once again respectfully. After all, he was a senior to her, even if he “doesn’t do formalities”.

“Are we done for today?” quipped KiSeok, raising an eyebrow, to which she nodded apologetically.

“My voice is getting strained, so I don’t want to overdo it.”

He scratched his neck at that, thinking for a moment while peering into her eyes. “Should we go and get some tea, in that case? There’s a cafe near the studio.” she took in a sharp breath, yet the sly gaze of Jay Park did not escape her vision.

“I would love that, yes.” she smiled at the older man, knowing her eyes were twinkling.

“Great. Let’s just clean up and go, then.” he said, all the while sending Jay a weird look, almost glaring, or daring to speak something unthinkable. She wondered what kind of telepathic conversation those two had. Ah, it must be nice to have such a close friend.

“Man, just go, I’ll clean this shit up.” beckoned Jay, pushing KiSeok in the direction of the exit, shooing the couple out of the building altogether.

“He’s such a prick, that one. How overbearing. Like a mother..” complained KiSeok, his face set into a scowl.

“Why? Didn’t he offer a good thing? You don’t have to clean up any longer,” and we get to spend more time together, she thought inwardly.

“He never does anything for free. But anyway, maybe I should be thankful for it just this once.”

“Why’s that?”

“I get to spend more time with you.” he answered all too nonchalantly. He swept her off her feet just like that. Her face was burning. Her ears were burning, too. Did she hear it right? “What are you so embarrassed for? You’re making me embarrassed, too.” his chuckle was timid, and his hand was grasping at his neck as he walked just a step or two in front of her. At that moment, she really wished she could see his face. Was he as embarrassed as she was? She bet on not, but was he embarrassed at all? She wanted to know.

“You wanted to spend more time with me?” she asked, her voice trembling just the slightest bit from the embarrassment.

“Of course I do.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?” he asked, stupefied into a stop. “I want to know you better, that’s why.”

“Why?” she asked again, unable to stop, as confused by his behaviour as he was by hers.

He looked at her for a long time before replying. “You… Don’t tell me you don’t know..?” he sighed, shaking his head and chuckling under his breath. “I did tell you that you’re my ideal type, right?” he asked, his voice blank.

“No? Yes? But wasn’t that just a quip to get me to cheer up?” she asked in disbelief.

“No? I was serious.”

“So you want to spend time with me because I’m your ideal type?” she asked again, feeling stupid that all she could do was ask questions, specifically questions of which he seemed tired of.

“No. I just wanted to get to know you better. Ideal type seemed too superficial, after all, it’s formed of my opinions of you. I want to get to know you better and then say that you’re my ideal type for sure.”

“Oh…” she was confused by the situation. What was happening? She could not tell.

“So… What I’m trying to say is, I have an interest in you. You seem nice, for as much as we talked and texted. I want to get to know you even better.” his voice was small, and getting smaller, like he was embarrassed of his own words.

“Oh…”

“So this whole cafe thing is a ploy, really. I would like to consider it a date…”

“A what?” her voice was horrified, as was her expression. She was certain this was some kind of dream. After all, Jung KiSeok inviting her to a date could only be a dream, right?

“Do you… not want that? Because, that’s okay, too. No pressure. I would understand, after all, I am just some old uncle. It’s okay.”

“NO! A date seems lovely! I would want that! I would really want that! Please, if I can!” she yelled out, completely not in control of her feelings nor her body, nor her anything. For a fact, she still thought she was dreaming.

He smiled at her, his eyes creasing as he turned to start walking again, and behind him, she walked with a huge smile on her face, grabbing the sleeve of his jacket in joy.

#this one's dedicated to the anons #you know who you are lovelies #simon dominic #simon d #ssam d #jung kiseok #aomg #jung kisuck #requests #khh #khiphop #k hiphop #k hip hop #scenarios

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