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darkbluekies · 1 year

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Silas asks #5

Previous one next one

Concept: I've put multiple asks into one post to avoid too much loose posts on my account! This way, you have more to read too<3

Warnings: mafia, yandere, isolation ... the normal stuff

In Intruder, would Silas still have been able to find the reader if she didn't look to see what was on the USB? (Perhaps she didn't know she had a foreign USB in her purse in the first place) You mentioned Silas could see her on the webcam, but I assumed that was because she used the USB on the computer. Also, if she didn't see the USB would Silas have taken it back without question or would he have still kidnapped the reader? Sorry for all the questions, I'm just curious hehe 😅

Hm, interesting question. I think that Silas would be able to find the USB one way or another, either through a tracker on it or hacking into surveillance cameras to follow her. He would most likely not be too interested in getting her, but would think of her when he leaves ... which means that he'll be back for her.

There's this meme on tiktok that goes "my blickyyyyyy upon the dresseeeerrrrr" it remind me so much of Silas who definitely is the type of dude with a gun in his dresser 🔫 🔫

I haven't seen that meme, but Silas would 100% keep a gun in his dresser! For uh "safety reasons". Not to keep you in the room no no

Do you think the reader would ever develop Stockholm syndrome with Silas?

I actually think so. He treats you well when you're obedient so if you don't try to escape and actually listen to what he says, he will be the most wonderful man you can ever get your hands on. And that's dangerous for your mental health because anyone would fall for that.

With that Broken reader x Silas fanfic Does the reader have a caretaker that had been helping them?

[fanfic?]

Oneshot it's basef off of (i think)

No, Silas doesn't want anyone to be close to you, escpecially not after what you've been trough. He's scared that you'll fall for someone else in your fragile state. He needs you to be reliant on him only. You're vulnerable, perfect for him to mold how he wants you to be.

LOVING SILAS SM MWAH MWAH MWAH LEMME KITH YOU omg but like.. 😳 what if he grows to lowkey miss gen z reader's remarks and jokes in the long run😶. like ok yeah big man got what he wanted😮‍💨🫥 but now reader doesnt laugh or smile anymore cause theyre lowkey highkey traumatized😁💧 ykwim????

[omg thank you for the kith hehe]

Then he'll try to bring it back! Silas thinks that you're a toy that he can break and bend to be how he wants you to be. Somehow you'll be back to normal, he just needs to figure out how. He'll regret breaking you down so badly and will do his best to crack your numb shell.

"I like it when you smile. Come on, baby, curse at me. You know you like that. Tell a joke, I'll laugh, I promise. No, you won't get punished, little thing."

The Valentine's day ask for Silas got me thinking, what if his s/of wanted to get job? (cause I can't just do nothing all day) And since I'm sure he wouldn't let us go somewhere, what if we asked for him to hire us? (Cause if he wouldn't we can start looking for a online job or a job where we could leave and come back without getting caught) We can basically do some clean up or just paperwork 🤔. Also sorry if my English is bad

He'd hate the thought of you working because he thinks that you should be doing things you liked, but if you really had to, he'd keep you in his office, right by his side, where you can go through some papers. Of course not the ones that could make you scared. If there are no papers for you to go through, he'll print fake ones, just so you'll have something to do. As long as he'd keep you occupied, you'd not complain about being bored or wanting to leave.

"Ah, how about a break? We should take a nap on the couch. We've been working so well, don't you think, little thing? Come here, baby, let me hold you."

Silas be like "I'm gonna torture you badly" I be like "I like that"🥴Chain me up in the basement for punishment? "oooh kinky"Psychological torture? "Hey how'd you know I like mind games?"Threaten friends and family? *Looks around sarcastically "where are they? I don't see them!" 🙃In conclusion, I identify as a chaotic neutral that cannot be contained. Go ahead, do your worst! It'll be fun~ >:3

You'd be Silas's nightmare.

Ok that was weird how would Silas react to a mc who was in awe about how rich he was and shocked when they arrive at his mansion?

[what was weird ...?]

He'd be shocked. He's been in defense mode to give you a fright, to scare you into obedience ... but you're not scared?

"If I live here? Uh yeah, i do ... what about it? You like it? Yeah, I guess it's nice. Do you really like it that much?"

Hello 👁🫦👁. I love all your stories and I'm trying to figure out how best to behave with Silas so that he doesn't lock me in the basement, but also doesn't break my mind or bones😭p.s. i love the yandere characters but even chatting with AI yanderes gives me bad endings

As long as you do as he says, (you stay in your room, doesn't complain too much, doesn't nag and demand him to be let out) he'll be pleased with you. He'll take you out for dinner and dates and be more patient with you. The more you demand of him, the less likely you'll get it and the quicker you'll end up in the basement. He wants to be treated as a human being, depsite all the bad things he's done to you :)

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere fics #yandere mafia #yandere stories #yandere talks #yandere oc x you #yandere headcanon #yandere reactions #yandere asks #yandere ocs x reader #yandere ocs #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #silas oc

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the-kipsabian · 1 year

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hey a quick question

so while reorganizing my stuff i found a few stickers. these are test prints i did before i found the size and settings i ended up using, so they are slightly blurrier and definitely smaller (i have one larger ethan and couple of bigger aces as well) than the ones i ended up going with, but i have them at hand so like. would anyone be possibly interested in getting these? i would only ask the price of a stamp (so about 2.50€) for them, or you can just tip more if you'd feel like i guess

(also thats a bad photo lemme know if you need better closeups. or just look at my art tag here they are all there too)

im not offering these any other way rn as im out of printer ink and its so expensive to get refilled that its not worth it, but i got these. two chris', one alex, two elps, two shos, two small and four big aces and one big ethan

so like. lemme know, dm me or whatever

#i have no use for these and they still look good i think so i can just get them moving #claim all of them if you want to and just pay for the stamp and i'll send them your way i literally dont care #just seeing my art. as much as i like these. i just have mixed feelings :')#but a few of them just require cutting to the right size and then they are good to go so yeah i dont wanna waste them if someone wants them #night is an absolute mess on main

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bit-b · 1 year

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Anti-piracy? Anti-emulator? Anti-consumer.

Disclaimer: I am NOT a lawyer. Do not take anything in this post as legal advice.

I just saw the promotion of a thing recently. For the sake of not inadvertently advertising their crap, I will not be naming who it was and/or what the product was that they were trying to push. I will say that it had to do with video game anti-piracy and emulation.

Lemme start out by saying that I avoid emulation whenever possible. I like playing my games the way they were intended to be played, on the consoles they were made for. In fact, people who follow me could probably vouch for the kind of crazy hurdles I've jumped through to pull off certain game streams.

Also, I DO NOT in any way endorse piracy. I'm a major advocate of paying for the content that you enjoy. If people don't pay for a group's work, that group won't have money. If they don't have money, they won't be able to do more work. Even if you wanna use a game or program a decade out of print, I still feel that it's a good gesture to own that product.

THAT SAID: EMULATION IS NOT PIRACY.

I can understand the confusion. After all, there are people online that host illegal copies of ripped games. And emulators have enabled people to be able to play those illegal rips without actually owning the game. It's easy to jump to the conclusion that every use of an emulator must be bad. In actuality, the emulators themselves are not illegal.

Pretty much all emulators out there are not based on the original code of the consoles. Emulation is possible due to years of 3rd-party tinkering and reverse-engineering to make certain games run on different systems.

So if you own the game, if you have the tools to rip said game, and if you use an emulator capable of playing that game on another device, then nothing was stolen. You're just choosing to play the game in a way that makes you happy.

It only becomes illegal if you choose to post those game files online for anyone to use. Because at that point, it can be argued that you're handing the files over to people that have not payed for the privilege to play. You would be denying the devs and publishers the right to profit from their work.But again, if you're not distributing content, no illegal actions are taking place.

So it makes me sad to see people look at emulation software and say "God, why do they let these kinds of tools exist?! Don't PIRATES use this software?? How is this allowed?!?" Because it tells me that people don't consider the context and intent of the use of these tools. It's like getting upset about hammers existing because some people have used hammers for murder.

For a different example, let's imagine that someone photocopied a card game, laminated them, and played with them in their swimming pool.

Now, imagine people complaining:

"Wait, you didn't scan those cards and print new ones to make those, did you?! That's a crime!!"

"You're not supposed to play card games in the pool!! It wasn't designed for that!!"

"Aren't you worried that the card manufacturers are gonna arrest and sue you?!"

"Don't you know they MAKE waterproof cards?! Why would you skirt around their official product?!"

And I say:

If any copies were made, it was only out of necessity for the tinkering process. Copies were not distributed to other people.

Just because a thing wasn't originally designed for something doesn't mean it CAN'T. If anything, showing that it's possible to make a thing do something it normally shouldn't is kind of interesting.

How is it illegal to take something you purchased and use it in a different way? You could buy a golf club and use it as a baseball bat. Should you be penalized for that?

Even if the product-maker makes the same kind of alternate product, what's forcing a person to use the official one over their own?

Like I said. DON'T pirate. Own your games and software. But I feel like people equate tools used by pirates as piracy itself. And that's not a fair judgement.

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Now, that's just the FIRST part. The second is the anti-piracy.

Like I said, devs need money. I want to support them in their profession. I want to own what they create. And I encourage everyone to pay for the things they use. But what I can't stand is this idea that software NEEDS extra anti-piracy built in. (outside of the anti-piracy measures already implemented in your game launcher) In my opinion, adding extra layers of anti-piracy does nothing but harm the end-user.

Pirates don't use software with all the security stuff built into it. They use CRACKED versions. It takes a little time for them to crack it. But once they do, they have full unlimited access.

Meanwhile, I've heard only a handful of cases where 3rd-party anti-piracy measures are removed by the developers after it's no longer necessary. This means that everyone who bought legitimate copies of the product will likely be forever locked down by these stupid extra measures. And this sends the paying customers through all sorts of hoops.

They might have to always tag a security server on startup.

They might have monitoring software running routine checks.

The processes in the background might sap precious PC resources that the end-users don't want taken up.

Depending on how the anti-piracy was implemented, it could cause stability issues for the software.

The only true benefit I've seen for 3rd-party anti-piracy is the guarantee that the devs and publishers will be making their sales during the first 2 weeks of a product's life. Even then, people have managed to crack certain anti-piracy within the first 2 days. So it's not even a full guarantee. This type of anti-piracy is completely one-sided on benefits. The customer doesn't get anything out of these security measures at all. If anything, the customer would benefit greatly from NOT having them.

----------------------------------------

I've said it several times in this rant, but I really do want to see devs and publishers get their money. Especially when they've done a great job. I've just bought 2 games that just recently ditched their anti-piracy. But that's a privilege that I rarely give.

We live in an age where new experiences and tools are being made and released every single day. And thanks to this, I have a bounty of buying options available. I can easily pass on someone's product if I don't appreciate a company's distribution tactics. And I am more than happy to miss out on a fun experience if it means dealing with less bullcrap. And the more time that passes, the less relevant your product is.

I believe adding extra anti-piracy measures will only ruin your reputation. If you don't want to be consumer-friendly, I can easily find someone else that will. And don't you DARE be surprised when an up-and-coming developer blows past you, lacking all those shareholder-appeasing anti-piracy measures that you love so dearly.

#anti piracy #emulation #video games #roms #piracy

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felassanis · 2 years

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Legacy Of The Sparrow WIP - Reaver x F!Sparrow

This is a WIP of a full story I am planning on making. So please lemme know what you think! I am refraining from posting it to AO3 in case I need to make any alterations as I map out the chapters.

Reaver tries and fails to understand just exactly what about “Until I return to kill you and take back what's rightfully mine,” had been lost in translation.

He was rather certain his feelings on the matter were made quite clear. In print nevertheless! How could anyone expect him to be more clearer than that?! It was as if they were begging to have their heads blown all over the walls, honestly!

Reaver even thought it an improvement on the wallpaper. Considering it was not his wallpaper in the first place.

They couldn't just contend with squatting in his Bloodstone Manor. Oh no, they had also stripped it of any trace of Reaver’s personality. Taking it upon themselves to completely refurbish the manor as they saw fit. And in their rampant warpath his oil paintings had been pulled from the walls. His collection of titillating contraptions…gone! Tossed and burned with his old sex chamber switched into a bloody office.

They’d even done away with Reaver’s Rear Passage. Blocking the entrance with thick, hard, concrete…Seriously. Not every manor had a secret escape tunnel. They must lead awfully dreadful lives to never see the usefulness of one.

“No, this won’t do at all,” He mumbles to himself.

Blowing smoke from the barrel of Dragonstomper, Reaver steps over a row of bodies casually. Only slightly fretting what the spilled blood pouring from between their eyes would do to his floorboards. He wondered briefly, in a spurt of awareness, if anyone would miss the throuple. Only to then realise he didn’t care. In fact, there were far more pressing issues….

On his trip back from Samarkand, he’d lost all the wealth he’d accumulated from the distant, barbaric land of sand. His ship The Reaver unfortunately lost her battle to Albion’s sharp and twisted coasts on the trip home. His beloved finally finding her watery grave after many long years at last. And with it, Reaver’s reapings from Samarkand.

Now he’s found his second beloved abused, mutilated, and tortured in rampant bright colours and shackled by domesticity. Oh well, at least he still has his vault. No one in Albion could crack the code to his belly of riches that lay beneath Bloodstone Manor.

“Reaver, sir!”

The bald man who appeared suddenly from nowhere had made him flinch. Something so undeniably humiliating that Reaver nearly put a bullet in him right then and there to save face. And he damn well would have, were it not the scout he had sent out earlier.

“M’sorry sir! I-I just had news! The news you wanted me to get for ‘yer!”

Now here was some village missing its idiot. The man holds his hands up in a delayed reaction as Dragonstomper glares at him with one big, deep, black eye. And as tempting as it was to pull the divine trigger…he was one of the few fools left from Reaver’s old crew who hadn’t been snatched by the wilds of Samarkand or died in the subsequent shipwreck.

“Well? Quickly now lad! Before I completely do away with the notion of ‘don’t shoot the messenger’,”

“Well, I know we ‘ant been back from Samarkand long. But shit’s changed, sir. Some o’ the locals heard the gunshots, sir. Before stuff got prim ‘n proper, people might’ve joined in innit? Bit ‘o fun, bit o’ target practice like for the kiddies. Not these lot. Mighty fearful they were. They’ve gone ‘an told on you, sir,” He explains quickly.

“Told on me?” Reaver keens in interest. Tasting the question on his tongue like sugar. “My, and whom have they told on me to, I wonder? A teacher? The guards? Oh I'm unequivocally shivering in my breeches…”

He could do with the target practice after all this. Keen to let out his frustrations on the populace stupid enough to come after him.

“No, sir. They’ve gon’ and told the Queen,”

Reaver blinks. “Since when was there a bloody Queen?”

--------

“Your form is sloppy. Any pisspot who remembers he has legs could kick your weight out from under you,”

Walter relents his picky point with another strike of the blade. Hurtling towards her at such a hard, unwavering speed that she barely has time to use the side of her blade to throw him off as he rams.

Stunned, she teters backwards. Barely staying on her feet as Walter flicks the blade to his side pompously. Circling her with a cocky smile that curls under his brown moustache.

“Embarrassing for a queen,”

She lets out an undignified huff. “I’ll show you embarrassing,”

Walter comes bounding towards her like a bull, sword like horns, as he darts. Rather than exert unnecessary energy, Sparrow extends her hand outwards. Her palm directed at Walter. With a sudden gust of force, the propulsion of her Will fizzles into reality. Sending him flying back like an insect caught in a vengeful wind and with it, his sword clattering to the ground.

Walter rises to his feet, smile completely wiped off his face. “I said no magic!"

“There are no rules in battle, dear Walter,”

“Not in writing. But dirty tactics and cheap tricks aren’t honourable,” He picks up his sword, aiming the tip towards her in accusation. “Troops look up to their leader. To find her throwing dirt in an opponent's eye to win is hardly inspirational,”

Sparrow shrugs. The act of exerting Will was hardly cheap tactics in her eyes. With a wave of her hand, she could conjure a frightening row of swords with the ease of breath. Aim them true, and her enemies would become human pincushions before they landed a single hit. Lightning and fire bowed to her whim. The very earth would bend and break if she wanted it, cowering under her might. What was cheap about that? It was hardly comparable to throwing dirt in someone’s eye.

But Walter had always been very by the book. He’d sooner lose a battle than win by tricks and wit. She supposed there was a fairness in that, something to admire. But it also felt short sighted. She could not have relied on Lucien Fairfax to prepare honourable tactics back when. Doing so would have seen her dead. As it saw so many others dead.

“My apologies, Walter,” She nods to her old friend. Perhaps it was unfair to exert Will over someone who was not a Hero. “Would you like to knock me off my feet again? I know you love it when I fall underneath you,”

Her tease is not lost on him, as evident by the hook in his brow. “Always saying what’s on your mind, eh lass?”

“I don’t say everything that’s on my mind. You’d be blushing to your toes if I said everything I’m thinking of,”

He lets out a roar of laughter at that, which makes her smile. He could be very serious when he wanted to be, too serious. The job of being her bodyguard had all but sapped the humour out of him. She wished nothing more that behind closed doors, he’d drop the dutiful act and be Walter Beck again. Like they were in the old days.

When Walter starts to pace towards her something clutches her chest, winding it tightly into a knot of anticipation. Maybe, just maybe, her teasing had struck a chord. Finally. His eyes hold something close to courage, something closer to need. Desire…

Only for it to be wounded when he stops a foot from her.

He looks like he wants to say something. His mouth hangs open, before closing promptly.

“Come, your highness. Your council will be waiting in the throne room,”

She deflates, disappointed. But hardly surprised.

“No rest for the wicked, eh?”

She sheathes her sword, shoving into her belt roughly like a careless punch. Side by side the two of them make their way through Castle Fairfax in silence, arriving at the doors to the throne room also as such. Where her council awaited, and where her day was about to be ruined.

Outside the hall's doors is Jasper. An elderly man, trussed up in a buttoned up suit with slicked back hair white as snow. He spots the duo, quickly checking that his collar was in top shape as if she’d care. In his hand is a red velvet cushion holding her crown.

“Your majesty,” The butler takes a bow, holding the cushion perfectly poised as he bends.

“Jassy,” She replies, taking hold of the crown and nestling it quickly on her head.

They enter the hall alongside the thundering cascade of the large oak doors being swung open by Walter, who urgently holds the door aside for his queen. The room is cast into an immediate hush, eyes trailing towards the lithe frame of Sparrow. Twinkling like the sockets of skulls. Crimson banners bearing Sparrow’s sigil drape from the ceiling, matching the elongated carpet that flowed across the marble floor towards her throne…

With a deep breath that blows up her lungs, Sparrow walks down the centre of the hall with practised grace. Though her throne rubbed her in all the wrong places, and the crown wrapped around her temples like a wreath plucked from thorns that provoked a headache, she would never show it. She could feign grace, feign poise and manners, things she had never embraced in her heart truly. It was all an act, a mask, a barricade to deflect the staring and hushed whispers that descended upon her court. She flaunted this facade for five years, it came naturally to her now.

All she had to consciously not trip over this damn carpet.

As she ascends to her throne and settles her bony arse in the stone seat. The first noble wastes no time in taking the stand.

“Your Majesty, Queen Sparrow,”

She recognised the noble. An older man who went by Cotton Filly; befitting of his name was a head of greyish curls that fell to his shoulders like cobwebs. He was built similarly to a doll made fashioned from clay that had been pulled and stretched by a meaner older brother. Sometimes it baffled her that answering to her authority meant taking such…pissants seriously.

As the man spills his drivels, her eyes begin to wander. In a room filled to the brim with people there was comfort that amongst the sea of faces at least one was known to her.

Searching for his gaze, she finally catches Walter Beck’s eyes. Who watches her from afar at his post at the other end of the hall. He can read her better than anyone and knows she’d rather be anywhere else. Alas, all he can just about offer is a sympathetic look.

“The current climate of the region is appealing to you to find a suitable husband. Someone of good standing who understands what it means to be a leader. And who can provide a strong and capable heir to rule in your stead when you are gone,"

Her eye twitches irritably as she is taken out of her distraction. It was one thing to hear rants about lowering the taxes for the rich or about rebuilding roads. But when they butted their noses into her private affairs. It was a little too much. And hit a sore spot…

“And as I’ve stated before, Mr Filly. I have no need of an extra mouth to feed in my household,” She tells him flatly. “I’ve enough feeding you lot as it is,”

Mr Filly, unphased by her answer, continues. “Your highness. There are many in your kingdom who would see a lone queen as fragile…vulnerable even. And more view it as a challenge. The people worry that without an heir, your…ahem, generous rule may be cut short. If that happens we will be left struggling without a guiding hand. I implore you, to reinstate the confidence in your people, find a husband,”

“And I implore you to return to your queen with concerns that actually matter to the fate of the realm. The question of who I have or don’t have under my bed sheets will not dictate Albion’s safety,”

She could see the thinly veiled attempt at control on his part, of him trying to rein her in like a loose pup. He dressed his words up as pragmatism of course, but deep down she knew his blood boiled at the sight of her on the throne. His posture stiffened, and his lips pressed firmly into a thin line.

Years ago the only way she would have ever seen the inside of Castle Fairfax was through an unattended window, or being dragged to the royal dungeons by the guards for stealing bread from a stall. But now the lowest of commoners had committed a noble’s worst nightmare to reality… and ascended to royalty.

She was not Lucien Fairfax. And the nobles of Bowerstone detested it.

She had no status. No regard for the nobility. And no patience. She was an unnatural force of change in the once sturdy and structural hierarchy. And like most, change scared them to death.

Sparrow had no intention of coddling them like Lucien had done. She’d force this change down their throats till they either swallowed or choked. As long as they kept in line, this feigned politeness between them and her would continue.

Mr Filly pulls a face. “The dwellers are a solitary people. They’d rather live in the woods than with the rest of us in civilization. And that is their right. Many wonder though, if the burden of the crown is too heavy for someone used to going at it…alone, in matters,”

“You don’t need to concern yourself with the weight of my crown,”

“We are simply worried that should you perish without a husband or an heir-”

“Your worry is touching,” She snaps. “No, really. I’m moved to tears,” She strikes a finger across her dry cheek.

Once again his face scrunches. Like he had tasted something bitter in the air. “Your highness it is the responsibility of royalty to marry and continue their bloodline. And since you claim to be royalty, I feel it is my duty as a member of your court to remind you of this,”

Before Sparrow can attest to that, the doors to the throne room burst open. A set of guards painfully out of breath rush into the hall which erupts in gossip and outrage.

A strangled cry rises from Cotton Filly as Sparrow stands from the throne. “What is the meaning of this interruption?! How dare-”

“Oh do be quiet!” Sparrow descends the stairs that prop her throne up. Pushing past Filly as she attends to the two guards, who remove their helmets in respect.

Walter appears, taking quickly to her side as he addresses the men. “Figgins, Smithy! What in blazes are you doing here, lads?! You were stationed all the way in Bloodstone!”

Figgins, the much younger of the duo, wipes his face clean of sweat as he gasps. “Sorry, Walter, sir. But we have an urgent distress call from Bloodstone,”

“Distress…hah,” Smithy grunts with a weak, sickly smile. “It’s a bloody massacre is what it is…he even got the chickens, poor things…”

“Chickens? Wha-just tell us what is going on, lad!” Walter shouts.

“It started with the Billberry family, they were butchered in their own home. Shot dead like..like…” Figgins answers, growing nervous as Walter seems to tower over him.

Something lights up in Sparrow’s head then like a march to a wick. A pang of familiarity scratches at her mind over the uttered last name.

“The Billberrys…the Billberrys…” She tastes the name on her tongue.

Walter eyes her. “They’re the ones you sold Bloodstone Manor to, M’lady. Shame, they were a kind bunch of souls,”

Then it hits her. A sick cackle in the back of her mind, a voice rich in tone and smooth like velvet. Yet as sharp as any blade. A man as unpredicatble as a bomb. A walking time capsule that should have been buried and left buried. Rum and smoke and sea salt…

At first, she simply refused to believe the first thing that came to mind. She shook the memories like apples from a tree, daring to stomp on the fruits of her past…but she knew, deep down, she knew what this meant. There was but one man who could be responsible for something like this. Only one sadistic enough.

As ever living up to his name. Reaver had returned…..

#fable #fable 2 #fable 3 #sparrow #reaver #fable reaver #spreaver #fable sparrow #fable 2 sparrow #fable 2 reaver #Reaver x Sparrow

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speakeasy8 · 1 year

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[001] Fujii, K. (through the eyes of his manager, Zuzzu)

Sooo...this is from the staff journal on Kaze's app mostly updated by his main manager, Tomonori Kawazu, or more affectionately known as Zuzzu. I've been catching up on it slowly (there's 2+ years worth of entries). I'm reading it in its original language because even though the app seems to be available in multiple countries, I haven't seen any mention of English entries or the content of the diary among Kaze's international fanbase. So I figured I'll share some of the more interesting entries I find here.

Do lemme know if there are already official translations available and it's just me who doesn't know about them so I don't keep doing all this work for nothing, yeah?

Oh I checked and found that Kaze's team has given blanket permission for stuff on the Kaze app to be reproduced. It's only when people rip the stuff in there for unauthorized reuse (like pictures to be printed on t-shirts, etc to be sold as unofficial merch and what-not) that they put their foot down. So in case you're wondering, this thingy that I'm doing here is a-ok in their books, since it's basically content reproduction, which they do not seem to consider as rights infringement. As far as Kaze goes, anyway.

Note that this is based on whenever I get to making more headway into the journal itself and only on whatever entry I come across that I find interesting enough to want to share so it's not going to be everything and it ain't going to be regular. Far from it. Hope y'all understand.

Also, this probably isn't necessary given where this is and there's only like 5.5 of us Kaze fans in here but if anyone wants to share this outside of Tumblr, I'd appreciate it if I'm asked about it first. Thank you!

This particular entry was posted 31 Dec 2020.

Good evening, one and all!

The other day, I talked about working on two music videos in a single week in this Staff Journal. As today is the last day of 2020, looking back on what the year was like, it dawned on me that it was a year where our concerted efforts lie mostly with shooting these videos. We've released seven of them so far so I thought we could take a short trip down memory lane and recount what crazy 2020 was like for us.

It's been just about a year.

Since Kaze's first individual concert that was held at LINE CUBE in Shibuya, that is. This was the show Kaze decided to first announce to the world his original song, NaN-NaNw. It goes without saying that the first music vid that's going to be released would also be that of NaN-NaNw. As someone whos's been making and uploading videos on YouTube all by himself all this time, it's a matter of course that he has very clear ideas on what he wants in this first music video.

Calling ourselves Team Kaze, a small team of staff all came together and brainstormed on everything right from the concept, to the director, to the location.

Call it great timing, but we were able to find ourselves a director willing to take on the job and we were able to have a series of in-depth discussions with them.

See, not only is the entire song in Japanese, it's also sung in a rural dialect. But. The location is NYC. (Kaze himself wasn't too particular on the location though.)

The final story concept was something that came about after many in-depth back-and-forths between Kaze and the director to brush it up. Casting auditions including for the role of the angel were held at the location city right up to the last minute when, three days before we were due to travel to the shooting location, the original director had to bail on us for reasons I'm not able to disclose.

※Please refer to the vlog on YouTube to find out a bit about the progress we were able to make with said director and the concept of the song itself.

Remember, this was Kaze's very first music video. And it's slated to be shot at an overseas location, no less. But here we are, served with this shocking news, three days before we had to show up on set.

"Let's just give up on NYC and rethink the concept from scratch while we search for a new director. I mean, we could just delay this whole thing, couldn't we?"

Were some of the suggestions brought up within the team at the late night discussion table. But Kaze wiped everything clean off it when he said:

"Ah can't think o' another concept that'd work wit' this song."

By the way, just so you know, I actually tabled a suggestion where we go to India with a skeleton crew and shoot with just a single camera instead. But it got voted down pretty quickly which was just as well. Lol.

SEP Nakagawadani-san, Itabashi, the cameraman Kamiike-san, the lighting engineer Takahashi-san and Chris, who took over directorial duties, accompanied us on this journey with its beginnings full of ups and downs, starts and stops. The location coordinator Chika-san and Michael were also a huge help.

(Img taken from Kaze's app)

Here's a little anecdote from the shoot I thought I'd share:

You know the emotion-sharing scene where Kaze was in this room surrounded by a whole bunch of the cast who were all dressed in white? That was actually the very first scene shot which Kaze was initially none too happy about. He complained to me, "Ah never once imagined that the very firs' scene o'mah very firs' music vid wud see me lip-syncing in fronna whole buncha foreign peeps ah've ne'er met X(." He sounded nervous and I probably didn't imagine that hint of agitation I detected in his tone, either.

Also, because shooting was around Christmas season, NYC was alight with decorations. Which complicated things for us as the music vid had absolutely nothing to do with the holiday and we now had to be extremely careful to avoid anything to do with it getting into any of the shots.

When shooting the opening scene of the music vid, the image Kaze, the director and the cameraman each had for it in their respective minds were all different so tensions were slightly strained until everyone eventually came to an agreement.

Reckon it can't be helped, since the original director is no longer on board.

The last scene shot was at the subway. After wrapping up, everyone in Team Kaze and the film crew all felt as though we've created something pretty dang awesome.

And we weren't imagining it either because as a result, NaN-NaNw won this year's MTV Video Music Award Japan for the R&B category. I can't even begin to describe how happy this made us all.

(Img taken from Kaze's app)

This song and its MV turned out to mark a good start for us all so it felt like all the things we went through for it paid off.

After we've returned to Japan, without waiting for the music vid's release on 24 Jan, we went on ahead and dove headlong into pre-pro for MOH-EE-WA.

Since MOH-EE-WA is a song with hip-hop vibes to it, we figured we could engage a director who's at home with the genre, preferably someone young? Were some of the things Kaze and I talked about and it just so happen we were fortunate enough to have crossed paths with one Spikey John earlier, who not only hail from Okayama just like Kaze, they're pretty much the same age, with Spikey having been just one school year above. We met him some time in early Jan.

But, whether it was the folly of being about the same age, or both being extremely dedicated to their craft, as things turned out, they were pretty far from smooth-sailing. Having been able to meet the man was a highly fortunate thing in itself still, though. Lol.

Basically it's like this:

The ideas Spikey thought were great, Kaze didn't see eye-to-eye with.

The things Kaze wanted in, Spikey didn't think much of.

For someone who's usually pretty chill, Kaze got uncharacteristically worked up by the communication issues he seemed to be having, at one point going, "There's no way ah can work wit' someone ah can't co'municate on equal terms wit'. Wha he expect me ta do? Git down on mah knees an' beg?"

And from Spikey's end, it was, "Yanno, maybe I'm not the right guy for this."

So while trying to placate Kaze on one hand, on the other I spoke with Spikey to help him gain a better understanding of Kaze. It took several meetings but the two were gradually able to close the gap between themselves and understand where the other was coming from. Once they've gotten to the point where they've gained respect for one another, well, I'm sure you were all able to see the work that resulted for yourselves.

After the video's official release, Kaze well and truly considers Spikey as one of his bros and Spikey proclaimed himself a Kaze fanboy.

(Img taken from Kaze's app)

Goes to show how important it is to trade ideas, even if they clash.

Whoa, seems like I've been going on forever about this and I'm not even near the end yet. Mind if I took a break? I'll continue in the next entry, promise!

Oh right, since we're looking back on the past, I figure I should let you all in a bit on how Kaze and I met.

"Oh hey, so I've been pretty into this young dude on YouTube lately," Asako Miyazaki, the guitarist-cum-vocalist of SHISHAMO, the band I was managing back then, told me one day. That was how I first learned about the existence of one Fujii Kaze. If memory serves, that was probably around the end of 2017.

Back then, I was just like, "Oh, is that so?" But half a year later, in the summer of 2018, I found myself reaching out to him, and was promptly rejected as he told me, "A bunch of people who claimed to be from the industry have already gotten in touch, so I think I'm good, thanks."

Me, dejected: D8 T___T

So I placated myself by thinking that it didn't have to be me, that he'd for sure be able to meet someone worthy, who could do proper justice to his talent.

But Asako, bless her generous soul, wouldn't hear of it and urged me to not give up, telling me , "Dude. Don't just throw in the towel. Keep trying."

"Wow. That's really big o' her. Me, ah wouldn't be able to find it in meself to jus' han' mah own man'ger over ta someone else," was what Kaze said when I told him about it later. But really, this is just one of the countless things that make Asako an extremely cool person.

After that little push from behind, I gathered up my will to try again and eventually managed to get to a point where he was willing to meet with me at Okayama Station to hear me out.

There, we settled into a cafe and spoke at length and, on that very same day, he brought me home to meet his folks. In the days after, I made a few more visits to Satosho to explain to Kaze and his folks my ideas and hear what they have to say as well. We communicated a lot and, well, here we are.

They say that fate or destiny is what brings people together and I can't stress enough the truth and importance of that. Thinking back on what led us here this New Years Eve has just renewed my conviction of it.

Lastly, I'd like for you all to know that the warmth you have so generously shown us was what kept us going throughout this whole year. Trust me when I say we can't begin to thank all of you enough. Really, thank you all so very, very much! I hope you'll continue being generous in your support through 2021, as well.

Looking forward to seeing you all in tomorrow's piano livestream!

#藤井風 #fujii kaze #kaze fujii #tomonori kawazu #zuzzu #fujii kaze app staff journal #great manager zuzzu #gmz

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andicillustrates · 6 years

Photo

Every day I wake up and thank Star Wars for blessing me with cool queer space ladies ✌️✨

#Star Wars #leia organa #Princess Leia #amylin holdo #star wars tlj #my art #✨BISEXUALS IN SPACE ✨#I love them #also would anyone be interested in a print of this if I make any?#lemme know!

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cloudy-minded-idiot · 3 years

Text

closing time

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x female reader (kinda?)

warning: mentions of blood, a probably very inaccurate description of a wound being treated (lemme know if I should add anything else)

word count: around 3,000

a/n: wrote this before bed last night and edited it this morning. feedback would be appreciated, just pls don’t be too hard on me, since it’s the first fic i’m posting on here. i have a vague idea for a second part if anyone’s interested.

summary: a wounded stranger stumbles into your life one night, and you find yourself helping her out despite your better instincts.

next part

It was a slow night for a change. The last customer had left half an hour ago. An elderly man who had only bought two packs of cigarettes and some strawberry mint gum to go along with it. He was a regular, came in at least once a week, always bought the same thing. The kind of customer you enjoyed after a long day: quiet and quick to leave.

You were all set to lock up for the day. All you could do now was wait for your shift to actually be over. A difficult thing for someone who was inherently impatient and had nothing to distract herself with. Your phone had died halfway through the day, and you had finished your book sometime around lunch. Any other night, you would at least have your co-worker or your boss to chat with, but Mr. Douglas had left early today. Something about his in-laws coming to visit. You hadn't question it.

A glance at the clock. Ten more minutes. With a sigh, you closed your eyes, just listening to the ticking sound. For a while, you counted along. It was calming. Almost enough to lull you to sleep. Not that that took a lot, you were pretty tired after all. You had long lost track of the seconds gone by when, in between the rhythmical tik-tok, a shrill bell chimed. The one above the entrance you knew all too well.

You had to suppress an annoyed sigh. Last-minute customers.

Whatever complaint you had on your mind was quickly replaced by utter shock when you opened your eyes. In, through the drugstore-door, staggered a woman with fiery red hair, covered head to toe in dirt. Bruises lined her face, and she kept one hand pressed to her abdomen in a futile attempt to stop blood from seeping out of a wound. Little droplets fell to the floor despite her efforts, marking her path to the counter.

"Holy shit!" you breathed out, eyes probably wide as saucers. You continued dumbly, "I think you need to see a doctor."

An understatement, to be sure. If her sickly pale complexion was anything to go by, she was sure to keel over sooner rather than later.

The redhead shook her head determinedly, a pain-stricken look on her face.

"No doctor. No hospital. Just need some medical supplies," her remark was accompanied by her slamming crumpled dollar bills on the counter.

"O-kay," you said slowly, leaving the counter and taking her by the elbow, "I'll get you your supplies, but you seriously need to sit down."

You opened the door to the break room, guiding her to a chair that she more or less collapsed onto. She winced in pain, and you stayed a moment to make sure she was all set before hurrying back out. In a frenzy, you jogged along the shelves, mentally trying to create a list of supplies she could need. Rubbing alcohol, a first aid kit, scissors, tweezers. You also grabbed some painkillers and a bottle of water on your way back.

Dumping all the supplies on the round wooden lunch table, you watched her nervously as she started to cut off parts of her shirt to get better access to the wound. Almost instinctively, you grabbed the trash can holding it out for her to dump the blood-soaked fabric into.

"Water," she croaked out in between painful gasps, "Need to…rinse the wound."

Mutely, you nodded. Rummaging through the cabinet of the small old-fashioned kitchen counter until you found a big bowl and filled it up. Dipping a towel into the lukewarm water, you knelt in front of the woman.

"Let me do it. You need to save your strength."

She looked like she wanted to object, but, in the end, she gave you a curt nod. There was a lot of blood. You did your best not to irritate the wound too much. By the time you were finished, the water itself was a deep crimson. She had closed her eyes, sweat covering her brow. She grabbed you by the sleeve of your shirt when you tried to stand up, holding you in place.

"Now with alcohol," she told you. Your eyes flickered to the bottle on the table.

You hesitate. Swallowing the lump in your throat.

"Are you sure?"

"Do it," the redhead commanded, eyes still closed. She let go of your arm then, returning hers to the armrest of the chair. Her fingers left behind bloody prints.

You obeyed her order, wincing along with her in sympathy as you pressed the alcohol-drenched cloth to her wound. You could only imagine how much it must sting. Her grip on the armrests tightened until her knuckles turned white. When you were done, she inspected the wound, eyes narrowed to see in the dim light of the fluorescent lamps. A long silence stretched between you two. She looked up, meeting your gaze for the first time. Her eyes were a mix of greens with little specks of grey thrown in. Under different circumstances, you might have admired them a little longer. They were quite beautiful.

"Can you sew?"

You nod slowly, sensing where she was going with this and not liking it one bit.

It took a while to find sewing supplies. Taking deep breaths, you willed your hands to stop shaking and followed her murmured instructions. Put on latex gloves, sterilize the needle and thread. She sounded very calm as she explained how to make the first stitch, didn't even flinch when the needle pricked her skin. It helped calm you down a little.

By the time you cut off the excess thread, you found yourself unable to recall doing any of the other stitches. The rush of the moment made the procedure seem to pass faster than it probably did in reality. She eyed your handiwork for a moment before giving a small nod of approval, a faint, exhausted smile tugging at her lips.

“Not bad for a rookie.”

“Thanks,” you breathed out, already preoccupied with sifting through the first aid kit.

Wrapping the wound was much more your forte. The redhead leaned back in the chair once you finished, washing some painkillers down with a big gulp from the water bottle. With the adrenaline wearing down, you felt as exhausted as she looked. Leaning back against the table leg, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your body relaxing as your apprehension lessened little by little.

You took a couple of moments to mentally catch up to what just happened, processing the sheer craziness of it all. Your brain was brimming with questions. Who was she? Who hurt her? Why didn’t she get professional help? They were on the tip of your tongue. But the woman passed out before you had the chance to ask her anything.

With tremulous hands, you cleaned the store for the second time that evening, wiping up blood from the floor, the chair, and the table. You discarded the rags with the rest of the used supplies. All the while, you checked on her multiple times, unable to shake the fear she might die right then and there. She looked unnaturally pale, but her pulse continued to drum rhythmically, her chest kept rising and falling with every breath she took.

What now? Should you call the cops? The hospital? She seemed pretty set on not getting any authorities involved. Perhaps with good reason?

You resolved to find out tomorrow, hoping you would not grow to regret it. Slinging one of her arms over your shoulder, you lifted her up and carried her bridal style, mindful of her injury. She wasn't too heavy, but you still were glad you had had the foresight to park your car nearby. After making sure she was safely strapped into the passenger seat, you went back and finally closed up the shop.

________________________________________________________________

The next morning, you were woken up by some clattering sounds coming from your living room. With a groan, you forced yourself out of your bed and stumbled through the door into the next room. The redhead was walking around in the dim light, rummaging through your drawers and dropping things left and right. You watched, for a moment, too perplexed to say anything as you rubbed your eyes tiredly.

“Shouldn’t you be resting or something?” you ask, voice rough from sleep. It was still way too early to be awake. You had thought the pain killers would help her sleep for a couple of hours more. Looks like you were wrong.

“Later,” she muttered just loud enough for you to hear. Crouching down, she opened the bottom drawer of the tv cabinet and pulled out some DVDs you had stored there, only pausing to look at the title of one of them with a smirk.

“Is this not a kids' movie?”

You had no idea what she was looking at, but you crossed your arms, feeling a bit offended anyway. Blame your lack of sleep for making you a little sensitive.

“Do you make it a habit to judge the movie taste of people who were gracious enough to let you stay in their home overnight?”

The woman didn’t answer verbally, just put the movie back and closed the drawer again. She turned to face you, her expression turning serious all of a sudden as if only now remembering where she was and how she got here in the first place. She looked apprehensive, taking a couple of steps in your direction.

“Does anyone else know I’m here?” her voice conveyed a sense of urgency, eyes staring into yours imploringly. Confused, you just shook your head.

Her shoulders relaxed a little.

“Good,” she nodded, her attention already returning to her little scavenger hunt.

The redhead walked across the room, sifting through your kitchen cabinet next.

You sighed, picking up a couple of things she had knocked over in the living room and putting them back in their proper place. Every few seconds, you would glance at her from afar. She was still wearing the outfit she had on when she came into the drugstore. With her unconscious, you hadn’t seen any way of getting her into some new clothes, at least not without possibly irritating her wound or waking her up. She could surely use something clean to wear. Her current attire was dirtied and bloody, not to mention that her shirt now looked like a makeshift crop top since she had cut off parts of it last night.

“You know, if you just told me what you’re looking for you wouldn’t have to make such a mess of my apartment,” you winced as one of your spice shakers fell out of the cupboard and landed on the stove just as you finished speaking. Luckily, nothing broke.

The woman paused mid-motion, still on her tiptoes, body halfway turned towards you.

“A radio. An old one preferably.”

Frowning, you picked up and folded the blanket she had discarded on the floor in front of your couch.

“What for?”

The redhead eyed you for a moment, hesitant and unsure whether you could be trusted. In the end, she kept quiet, ruling against explaining herself. You reluctantly accepted her decision, tossing the folded blanket back on the couch cushion in resignation.

“I should have an old radio alarm clock somewhere in my wardrobe. Will that do?”

It took you a couple of minutes to find the old thing, hidden away in the very back of your closet, underneath some clothes you hadn’t worn in forever. When you returned to the living room, your visitor was leaning against the kitchen isle, nibbling on one of your pop tarts which she abandoned as soon as she saw you. Eagerly she took the alarm clock off your hands, acknowledging you with a grateful nod. The redhead sat down on the couch, plugging the device into the closest outlet.

You more or less kept an eye on her while you made yourself some coffee, but you had no idea what she was doing. To you, it looked like she was just fiddling with the controls, only static and a couple of high-pitched sounds filling the living room. It was grating on your nerves, but you made no comment. By the time she finished and turned the radio off again, you were already on your second cup.

“Are you expecting any visitors in the next couple of days?” she asked casually, sidling up next to you in the kitchen.

You raised an eyebrow, placing your empty cup in the sink.

“No. Why?”

“I need a place to lay low until Tuesday.”

“Lay low?” you parroted, “What for? Who are you hiding from?”

Subconsciously, she glanced down at her bandaged wound, and you followed her gaze, slow realization coming over you.

“Did they do that to you? Did they hurt you?” you asked more softly. She only shook her head in confirmation, “Then why not just go to the police? I’m sure they can help you better than I c-"

“No,” she cut you off immediately, gripping your wrists tightly in both her hands as if to physically keep you from taking your phone and calling the cops. This only made you grow more concerned.

“No. We can’t go to the police. It’s not safe,” she loosened her grip on you a little.

Your eyebrows were drawn together as you thought about what she said.

“Why would it not be safe? Unless...,” you swallowed as a possibility crossed your mind, “Are you in trouble? Did you do something illegal?”

When she didn’t immediatley deny your statement, you started to jump to conclusions, your voice rising with panic.

“Oh, shit! You did. What was it? Were you in a fight? Did you kill someone? Holy shi- Does helping you make me an accomplice? Am I harboring a criminal in my ho-”

She cut off your rant by slapping a hand over your mouth, thus muffling your words.

“Be quiet, your neighbors might hear,” she hissed, gaze darting to the door, almost like she expected someone to burst through it.

Your eyes were wide in fear, but you listened to her, your heart racing. She slowly removed her hand, giving you a warning look as though she feared you would start talking again. You didn’t.

“I’m not a criminal,” she told you earnestly, “I am, however, on the run, so I would appreciate your discretion.”

“On the run from whom?”

The question was no more than a whisper, too scared to raise the volume of your voice. She held your gaze for a moment before shaking her head.

“I’m afraid that’s classified.”

“Classified,” you repeated, incredulous, “So let me get this straight. You show up at my job, bleeding all over the place and telling me not to call the authorities. I help you out, let you crash at my place and you, in return, wake me up at an ungodly hour, make a big mess of my living room, imply that you might have done something illegal, and expect me to let you stay here until Tuesday without getting any information whatsoever?”

“I know this isn’t fair...,” she admitted, and you laugh humorlessly.

“Not fair? I would be crazy to agree without at least having an idea what I’m getting myself into.”

The redhead nodded in agreement, looking away guiltily, teeth biting down on her lips. She seemed genuinely beat down, something even you, as a stranger, could tell was foreign to her. Oddly enough, you felt bad, although you knew, realistically, that you had done nothing wrong.

You let out a weary sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Curse your empathetic heart.

“Three conditions,” you conceded, making her look at you in surprise. Holding up a finger, you started your list.

“One. No more throwing my stuff around. If you need something, ask. I don’t want to have to clean up after you.”

She nods, having the decency to actually look sorry this time. You put up a second finger.

“Two. You tell me your name. Doesn’t have to be your full name or even your real name if that’s a secret or whatever," you added with an indifferent shrug, "I just want something other to call you than ‘hey you’.”

“What’s the third condition?” she prompted, not commenting on the second one.

“You promise me that you’re not the bad guy in this situation and that helping you won’t land me in trouble somehow.”

The redhead cocked her head to the side, an almost fascinated expression on her face.

“How would you know I’m telling the truth?”

“I don’t,” you countered without hesitation, “I’m just gonna have to trust your word here. Just as you will have to trust mine that I’ll keep your presence here a secret.”

For a moment, she regarded you with some indescribable emotion on her face before nodding in concession. Letting go of the one wrist she was still holding, she took a step back. Caught up in the moment, you hadn’t even realized how close you were standing. Thinking about it now made your face heat up for some reason. The redhead raised one hand as though she was about to take an official oath. She held your gaze unwaveringly as she spoke.

“I promise you, that I will not make a mess in your home anymore. And I solemnly swear that you won’t get in trouble for helping me in any way whatsoever.”

Something about her demeanor told you she wasn’t lying. You shake your head satisfied, a small but relieved smile taking over, some of the tension and apprehension leaving your body. She smiled tentatively in return, extending her hand to you in greeting.

“The name’s Natasha.”

Glancing at her proffered hand, you took it and gave it a small shake.

“Nice to officially meet you, Natasha.”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #reader insert #marvel fanfiction #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader

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dangerouscommiesubversive · 3 years

Text

someone behind me was tracing my steps / maybe you’re better off this way

Fandom: Kamen Rider Ryuki

Characters: Asakura Takeshi, Kido Shinji

Songs: "After the Fall," October Project & "Passive," A Perfect Circle (playlist here)

Takeshi’s sitting against the wall, bleeding out, and the mirror guy—Kanzaki, right—is standing over him, mouth twisted in something he vaguely recognizes as dismay. “I can’t use this, there’s barely any energy left,” he says, not to Takeshi, and there sure as hell isn’t anyone else in the room. “I’ll have to reset.”

“Hang on a second.” Takeshi coughs and feels his mouth fill up with the taste of copper, which isn’t such a bad flavor when you get down to it. “What about my wish?”

Kanzaki doesn’t even look at him, already fucking around with the mirror. “You don’t want anything, there’s no point.”

“Sure I want something.”

“…what on Earth could you want at this point? It’s all going to be reset anyway.”

Takeshi grins up at him, knowing that it’s sure to be an unnerving sight with his teeth all over blood. “Lemme remember.”

“Out of the question. Giving one participant unnecessary foreknowledge would interfere with the procedure.”

“Nah, nah, I’m not gonna interfere with shit. It was just a hell of a time.” Takeshi looks up just as Kanzaki is looking down and grins his bloody grin a little wider. “I like to remember times when I had fun. Looking forward to doing it over again. Let me remember.”

---

It’s not until he graduates university that Shinji realizes that he’s missing something.

Slightly after, really. He graduates, he works some shitty part-time gigs, he does some freelancing, and then Ookubo gets in touch and offers him a job at Ore Journal. That’s all fine, but when he steps through the door of the Ore offices he’s hit with a wave of déjà vu so powerful that he nearly trips and falls face-first into Reiko’s desk. Fortunately he catches himself before anyone notices. It had been bad enough trying to explain to his mother about the girl who lived in his mirror when he was thirteen; he can’t imagine how the people here would react to, “I remember walking into this room for the first time at least eight times over.”

He gets a grip on himself, but the feeling of loss stays. He’s missing something, and he doesn’t know what. Sometimes he’ll get a glimpse of it, he’ll pass someone on the street or overhear a snatch of conversation and a fragment of memory will overwhelm him, but he never gets everything.

From the bits that he sees, he’s not sure that he wants to get everything. It might be better to be missing something than to remember.

---

Takeshi’s known that he’s missing something for a long time now, and whatever it is, he wants it back.

He’s not exactly an educated guy, but he knows himself pretty well, and the idea that there’s a big chunk of him missing is galling. He can feel its absence. He can’t tell what it is, it hasn’t got any kind of useful shape, no edges that he can detect, but it’s his. And since he wouldn’t just go carving out part of himself, that means he’s been robbed.

He doesn’t take kindly to being robbed.

Mostly, though, he can ignore it, the way you ignore a hole in the wall that you don’t feel like repairing yet. He does what he likes, gets what he wants, eats when there’s food, and doesn’t think about it unless he reaches for something in his mind and finds that it isn’t there.

And then he sees the journalist.

Some sweet-faced kid, he is, showing up at a bar that Takeshi likes and bugging the regulars about a local ghost story that Takeshi knows for a fact is bullshit. He doesn’t try coming over to Takeshi’s corner, because the bartender visibly warns him off, but he’s talking to everyone else. That suits Takeshi fine. He can just sit with his drink and watch and remember, in shards and splinters, tantalizing and incomplete.

Kido Shinji is what’s printed on the business card he swipes from the bartender once the journalist leaves, with the address of a tea shop written on the back in pen.

Now there’s a name that rings a bell.

He stares down at the card for a moment, not sure whether he’s pleased or furious, and then heads out. Guy couldn’t have gone far.

---

Shinji gets through the door and is immediately handed an apron and a bandana for his hair. “Dishes.”

“What—Ren, I just got here.”

“Yeah, and there are dirty dishes. I don’t have time to deal with them, there are customers.” Ren squints at him for a moment, frowning. “What’s wrong with you, anyway?”

Shinji pauses in the middle of tying back his hair, uneasy. “I’ll tell you once there aren’t customers. Where’s Miyu—he’s still working, ok.”

Ren rolls his eyes. “Apparently that middle schooler who was here last week told all of her friends about him, he’s been busy all day.”

There are a lot of dishes piled up, and it keeps Shinji busy until Ren’s shooing out the last customers of the day. Atori’s different without the old lady, but it’s not a bad different; hopefully she’s happy in whatever warm place she moved to after she sold the shop to Ren. She’d certainly never seemed happy here.

He’s happy here. In a stable place, with a little bit of stable work apart from Ore, with people who inexplicably love him for reasons that none of them quite remember clearly.

When the last customer is out the door, Ren leans back against the counter, arms folded across his chest, and says, “So something’s bothering you, spit it out.”

Shinji frowns down into the dishwater. “I think someone was following me again today.”

“What, again? How long’s this been going on now, two weeks?”

“Three and a half. Ever since that thing I was looking into about the ghost, do you remember that one?” One saucer in the dish rack, start washing the next piece. “Maybe I pissed off the ghost.”

“You said there wasn’t a ghost.”

“Well, yeah, but what if there was and now it’s following me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’re not being chased by a ghost.”

Shinji glances nervously over his shoulder, as if he’ll see his ghost reflected in the tea shop window. “How can we be sure, though?” He picks up another dirty cup and starts to wash it. “Some of the things I remember…”

Ren’s arms wrap around him from behind, chin resting on his shoulder. “They aren’t here,” more softly and gently than he usually speaks. “No ghosts. Just you, me, and Miyuki.”

“No ghosts.” Shinji takes a deep breath. “You’re right. No ghosts.”

---

The place isn’t tough to break into. Decent locks, but nothing Takeshi can’t get past with a crowbar. He lets himself in and looks around the vaguely-familiar tea shop with interest before heading past the counter and to the back. Stairs lead up to the apartment above, and sure, they creak a little, but that’s nothing to worry about. After all, he’s still got the crowbar if he really needs it.

Upstairs, the place is chaotic in sort of a cute way, decorated as it is by three people with clearly pretty different sensibilities, fragments of three very different lives on display. It smells faintly of frying oil, too. Someone made something good for dinner tonight. On a whim, he checks the fridge, finds a container of leftover gyoza, and eats them absently as he contemplates the shopping list stuck to the freezer door. Eggs, rice, sliced pork belly, in neat handwriting that definitely isn’t Kido’s.

He finishes the gyoza and the tail-end of a carton of milk, leaving the empty containers behind on the counter and picking up his crowbar again as he heads toward the back of the apartment.

There are three bedrooms, and none of them are marked, doors closed against the darkened hallway. Checking each one would be a hassle, and might lead to more trouble than Takeshi feels like getting in right now. Instead he just remembers how jumpy Kido seemed even before Takeshi started following him and lets intuition lead him to the room closest to the fire escape.

The door swings open, and the first thing he sees is a cloth square on the wall. A covered mirror.

There we go.

Kido’s asleep, sprawled across the bed with his head tossed back and his hair spread out on his pillow, throat pale and exposed. Alone, which makes things a little easier. There’s a computer desk set up in the corner of the room; Takeshi grabs the chair from it, drags it over next to the bed, and sits, resting the end of the crowbar on the floor as he’s saying, softly and cheerfully, “Hey, Kido. Wake up.”

A shift, an irritated mumble, “Not time to—” and then one eye opening halfway and the jolt, Kido scrambling upright in the bed, one hand flung out to the side reaching for something that isn’t there.

What isn’t there?

Splinters reform into another regained memory: a deck of cards in an elaborate case, gleaming purple metal smooth and cool in Takeshi’s hands. There’s a name that goes with it, or maybe more than one, faint and still lost but centimeters from the tip of his tongue.

Kido’s gone white as a pan of milk, hand still empty because they’re in a world with no decks, now, no monsters that Takeshi suddenly remembers with fondness, not nearly as much fun, and Takeshi leans forward on his crowbar and smiles, friendly, like, and says, “Come on, Kido, I remember you being more interesting.”

---

Shinji can hear his heart beating over the ringing in his ears. There’s a bit of light coming in from between the mostly-closed curtains, just enough to see by, and with his hand coming up empty and his unwelcome guest illuminated so that only golden hair and white teeth are visible, he is assailed by memory.

He knows this man.

From the corner of the bar where he’d been looking into that ghost story, sure, the one the bartender had told him not to bother, but also from before, from ten befores or more. A killer, vicious and cheerfully so, dangerous to be around, but beneath the adrenaline thrum Shinji can feel another pulse, pity, pity, pity, perhaps misplaced but still there.

He fights to get his breathing under control and says, “Asakura. What are you doing here?”

“You took something of mine.” Asakura’s head tilts slowly to the side, semi-friendly grin still visibly. “I came to get it back.”

“I don’t have anything of yours.”

“Never said you did. I said you took it. Didn’t say I thought you had it.”

“That…you know that doesn’t make sense, right?”

“None of this makes sense, Kido. We live in a world that revolves around a guy like you.” Asakura leans forward, one hand darting out to grab Shinji’s chin, ragged nails digging into his skin. In the dim light his eyes are flat and dark and predatory as their gazes lock, only taking on any gleam as he drinks in…something, whatever he’s getting from looking at Shinji like this. Shinji nearly asks, in fact, but he can’t quite speak, and anyway Asakura’s talking again, still as cheery and conversational as he has been. “Used to be, I got the deck in my hands and I’d remember all of it. That was the deal. Don’t know how the mirror guy finally bit it, but whatever happened, you’re the key to everything now.”

Shinji’s considering shouting for Ren, because even if he did have a dragon at his beck and call, the mirror is covered. Then, of course, he notices the crowbar. And Asakura continues to look at him, searching for something that Shinji is apparently giving him.

“Pathetic.” Abruptly, Asakura lets go again. “You used to be fun, Kido.” He stands, shouldering the crowbar like a baseball bat, and heads for the open bedroom door, only pausing briefly to say, “Call me if you ever decide to get the band back together, yeah?”

Shinji remains frozen for what seems like a long time after he’s gone, dizzy with memory and his heartbeat noisy in his own ears.

He doesn’t remember the end of things. None of the ends of things, actually, and he’s not sure if the others know that it happened more than once, how many times they were put through the same wringer. Whatever it was, though, whatever he or they finally did, it was permanent.

He never would have expected someone to resent him for it.

Finally he finds the focus to move, raising a hand to rub at the sore spots on his jaw before getting out of bed.

Miyuki’s bed is disturbed by unoccupied, and this fills him with a banked and indistinct dread until he comes to Ren’s room and finds them both there, Miyuki sprawled as inelegantly as always and snoring lightly at Ren’s side. Ren is awake, barely. “Bad dreams all around tonight, I guess,” he slurs as Shinji closes the door, and moves over to make space. “Wha’ was yours about?”

Shinji curls up beside him and says, softly, “Just ghosts.”

---

Takeshi strolls down the middle of the empty street, crowbar on his shoulder, in such a good mood now that he’s very nearly whistling. It’s a damp night; the streetlights make shadows in the fog that look like old friends he now remembers, any number of enormous beasts stalking him as he walks. Which makes him want to laugh, and so he laughs, and the sound bounces off the buildings and the fog in an echo that could go on forever.

“Goddamn,” he says to a fog-reflection that shifts and changes with every step he takes, now a vast snake, now a rhino, now a stingray. “That was a good time, wasn’t it.”

The fog makes no reply, but the shadow continues to follow him down the street as the echoes of his laughter die away, and after a moment, feeling almost jaunty, he starts to whistle.

#kido shinji #asakura takeshi #fanfiction #30 day shuffle challenge

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thirsthourdemon · 4 years

Text

Headcanon on their online platforms but mainly on Twitch, onlyfans stuff, patreon, tumblr

Includes: Demon bros + undateablesss

Genre: Crack, Fluff and slight smut

Warnings: NSFW mentions

||Lucifer

-He didn’t have a big online presence because he was active, no no

-He had an online presence cause everyone always sees him on Diavolo s pictures and such so for a time they shared an audience

-One time Diavolo and Barbatos were doing a thing where they read a book aloud for some sort of game

-Diavolo kind of recorded that for a little bit

-ASMR I TELL YOU

-People liked it so much they suggested for “the one with the deep cold voice”, luci, to do asmr on youtube or something

-He doesn’t know what an Onlyfans is however he does have a patreon.

-Diavolo was interested in the idea and discussed it with him

-HE BLEW UP CAUSE EVERYONE WAS FREAKING OUT OVER HOW AMAZING HIS VOICE WAS OF COURSE! 😡

-His fandom consists of either people who are interested in what he reads or...Horny people who get off at how proper and low his voice is

-His profile picture is a picture of him with his head cropped out where he’s fixing his gloves

-Luci isnt like super famous but he has a loyal fanbase that appreciates him a lot also lots of simps with daddy issues

-He was confused as to why someone would ask him to be their father

-He gets the daddy kink but why???

-Last post: A picture MC took where he’s holding a whip cause mammon fucked something up 🙂

||Mammon

-Bold of us to assume he didn’t already have one

-You already know why he’s on here.

-He has random content but he mainly got his audience since he kind of tried modeling thing for a while. It was for a big brand on their new jock type jackets

-Mammon really wanted cash at that time and he got the thing over and done with making him a couple more grims richer

-The photographers told him they could transfer the pictures though! So he just saved his pictures because “Who wouldn’t want a picture of THE mammon?”

-That gave him the idea

-His audience? Whoreknee

-They even accept the fact that his captions for some pictures are “You should be honored you get pictures of me”

-He posts that with a blushing face half of the time HAHAHAHA

-Levi found it and just laughed at the pictures

-Surprisingly enough the pictures were actually well taken because MC was forced into em

-His most popular picture was the one with him was actually a picture that the brothers took of him tucking in what appeared to be goldie on a seperate MINI BED WITH A SMALL TOY LAMP BESIDE IT

-He did a QnA for his followers to celebrate on his instagram

-PFFTT He got so many questions about Goldie

-Was dubbed “Goldie’s Daddy” after that

-Last post: A picture of him wearing the new Luxury brand jacket he got and his keys in front of his car with the caption “Daddy’s going for a ride”

||Leviathan

-I’ve always head canon that Levi knows how to draw digital emotes. Like he just picked it up cause he wanted to make fanart of him in henry together 😔

-Also has a red bubble or an etsy where he sells some prints and stickers of fanart 👀

-He went on twitch since there were so many TSL streamers there who just played games while they discussed theories as well

-Levi is an emote artist and while he draws he sometimes just discusses the theories with his fellow Yucky Otakus

-He’s the type to really interact with everyone even though he barely does that in real life

-Sometimes though when he gets packages that fans sent or ones that he ordered he’d stream unboxing them.

-He hates showing his face? Oh dont worry He’s wearing a facemask and all that

-His fandom is genuinely into him. Like they actually like him as a person but kinda once got into a scandal on gatekeeping

-He took a break for a bit but he kind of said sorry and everyone just forgave him because he isn’t really the type to do drama and it was just that one instance-

-Overall loved by the community due to how chill he is and how invested he is on fan theories

-He has a twitter btw and lemme tell you it’s just threads and threads of discussions

-Whenever he does stream unboxing videos though and he shows his shelves everyone freaks out how he has EVERY FUCKING VOLUME OF EVERY ANIME AND GAME

-People sometimes ask him personal questions and he tries his best to try to answer them but he shows a face where he looks uncomfy

-Everyone just bullies anyone who makes him uncomfy giving his fanbase a very protective reputation

-Last post: “Unboxing fanmail L8er @ 10pm LOL CYA GUYS XD”

||Satan

-He has a tumblr. You cant tell me he doesn’t have one.

-He had tumblr like back in the old day though like when porn was still available here.

-Get this...He’s known all through out the academia blogs. He INVENTED Academia

-Satan has 1 blog and that’s it. It’s his main blog and he just posts pictures of the book cover and does essays, reviews or sometimes he writes the ending he wanted to happen.

-Dont get me wrong he has a patreon but only because people loved getting more exclusive takes of stuff like his book notes on certain pages or sometimes his notes and thoughts on Artistic Erotica

-Probably has a Ko-Fi because he though he needed it after most of the blogs he followed had it

-He thinks it should be “Table of Content” and not “Masterlist” so he uses just that

-Profile picture is him wearing his signature washed out green grandma sweater while he has a book in hand and a cup of earl grey on his table

-People go to him falling in love with his aesthetic and Book reviews but they stay in love with him because he is big on one on one discussions actually

-He goes for one on one voice calls where he just...He talks to you about any book of your choosing

-Fans send him tea but he knows better than to eat something a stranger gives so he makes beel take a taste first sometimes but ultimately scolds the boy when he takes too much

-He wasn’t supposed to have merch but everyone liked the idea of small packages (More like letters) that really do look old and vintage

-He usually only give those to the people who pay for the top tier stuff

-It usually contains 1 type of tea, a letter he wrote for them himself and a bookmark with his name stamped on it

-He got the stamp custom made ❤️

-Last post: (Insert 5k word essay)

This is what I thought of Edgar Allan Poe’s “A cask of Amatillado”

Playlist: (Insert soft classic Music playlist on Spotify)

Tea: Black Currant

||Asmodeus

-ONLY FANS THROUGH AND THROUGH

-Is a brand influencer as well

-The brand ambassador of this pretty well known semi-luxury skin care brand

-His devilgram? Perfectly made by his PR team which is just him and solomon

-Before I move onto the NSFW stuff I want to emphasize how Beautiful his instagram is and his aesthetic

-His aesthetic is romantic/sexual tension/Unparalleled beauty

-Also a make up brand influencer and has his own make up line

-something along the lines of “The Devil’s box of charms 🖤”

-The type to DG live whenever he’s just showing off the make up look he did or the outfit he got

-The house of lamentation may have PR packages stacking up due to how most of them have an online influence but out of 10 boxes 7 of them would be for Asmo

-OKAY NOW ONTO NSFW STUFF

-Lemme tell you this...He has a specific drawer and space in his closet just for the sexy outfits he has.

-The demon’s onlyfans has pictures of him just teasing his audience where he’s wearing a black skintight get up and his bulge is showing

-Nudes are for mid and top tiers

-His fandom loves seeing in stocking and chokers

-“The choker is from etsy and here’s the link to their shop~”

-He doesnt completely show his body but...Him in suggestive clothing gets everyone pre cumming

-His fandom is just filled with simps 😔

-He loves them and blows a kiss towards the camera everytime he ends a live

-Probably has had a scandal or 4

-Posted an Ahegao once and everyone lost it

-Has been the face for Ahegaos ever since

-Belle delphine who?

-Definitely tik tok famous too 😎

-Has memorized all of Doja Cat’s songs

-Last post: “Hope you guys are ready for tonight’s session~ 😈” With a picture of him in an Fuchsia and black themed lingerie set. A collar with a bell on it.

-Bonus: One time Solomon summoned him while he was taking pictures and he was still in his lingerie set. 😛

||Beelzebub

-Was originally inspired by Mukbangs Channels so he did them on youtube too

-You get his Mukbangs on your recommended, You subscribe because of his cute and funny reactions whenever someone in the backgrounds is astounded to how much he’s eating

-Everyone knew beel as a cute guy who just does Mukbangs and loves to eat

-He once did a fridge raid and ended up eating everything in the fridge

-That was THE MOST CHAOTIC VIDEO on his channel cause you can just see luci and MC trying to make him stop

-He eventually got a patreon because mammon told him people will give him more money for food like that and to be honest he made a patreon but mammon takes care of it from time to time

-Oh you knew him as this sweet beautiful boy who just likes eating? hERe HavE sOmE WorKOUt pICs

-His body got everyone thirsty or may I say Starving

-S I M P S everywhere

-His patreon content is just him making small videos eating or pictures of him being all sweaty from the gym 😛💦

-“DADDY BWDONMXMSKC PLEASE FEED US”

-“Eh? You should feed me instead” *opens his mouth*

-Fans send him lots of boxes of weird food to see his reaction sometimes

-Did the fire noodle challenge a bit late but everyone is surprised to how he isn’t giving the reaction like they expected him

-Spice tolerance? Unmatched

-His fandom is either “UwU Beel please eat try this!” Or “Daddy Please FEED US WITH YOUR DELICIOUS THIGHS! 😩🥵💦💦💦”

-He does the service where he sends you his body building pictures except he isn’t sending them, Mammon is.

-Manager Mammon 😎 Gets a half of the profit

-Can I just...BeelProbablyHasnevergottenintoanyscandalbuthasalotofhaterssayingthefansonlylikehimforhishandsomefaceandgreatbodyandnicevoicebutlikewhatiswrongwithlikinghimbecauseofthosethings?Itisntbadtolikethatstuffatall

-Last post: “🍙 Thank you to @(Your Username) for the Onigiri! I finished the whole batch! Please send more food”

||Belphegor

-Sleep Guru

-Im sorry but I cant see him having any other social media aside from tumblr, twitter and Devilgram

-Belphie barely checks his phone but he has tumblr because apparently there’s a thing called the SandMan’s Box Community

-It’s like LootCrate, a subscription service that gives you stuff like Comfy Pillow sheets and tea for better sleeping

-This even gives you something like sleeping masks or ear muffs.

-The community is well...nocturnal

-His ask box is always full of his 100+ mutuals who just discuss stuff with him

-Whenever he actually does try to type online he makes articles about the best sleep positions or stuff like that

-His fandom is just loving mutuals who sleep and take care of each other

-They have a discord server where it just plays soft music to help everyone sleep

-Last post: “Humans aren’t so bad when they’re asleep”

||Luke and Simeon

-He has a big following on twitch where he just bakes sweets in his cute little hat and-

-Clearly you can tell I follow him on twitch

-The type of twitch streamer that no one hates on because why would you? He is literally just baking and cute comments

-Sometimes he streams with Simeon and everyone loves both of them

-When people give money they dont give “money” no no...they call donating headpats

-Luke is just so adorable that everyone just...

-“Angel Lulu’s Protection Squad⭐️”

-He got famous when he...He doesnt want to call it a collab but He made a lot of sweets and gave them to beel so everyone freaked out and thought

-THE SWEET BOY THAT EATS A LOT AND THE ANGELIC CHILD THAT MAKES SWEETS A LOT ARE FRIENDS?!

-He is now pissed that everyone thinks they’re friends 😠

-Basically his fans started making dishes and candy inspired by him

-Sometimes they send it in and Simeon has to confiscate some because

-“Im sorry, guys. You are all really sweet and I know that you mean well but Luke isn’t allowed much sweets yet”

-No one ever EVER lewds luke

-Fortunately Luke’s fandom has the least amount of pedophiles because everyone drives them away the moment they try something

-Whenever luke does fan mail/unboxing videos people just adore how Simeon places a glass of water at the table below the camera and the scissors or cutter he uses is child proof

-Even though Luke is the main person on his account everyone also notices Simeon.

-How couldn’t they? He looked like he wanted to make everyone in the audience live a better life

-Add that with luke’s wholesome baking and BOOM! You are now ready for a better life🌟

-Last post: It’s a picture of Luke shyly showing of his new batch of sun and moon shaped sugar cookies. “Sun and Moon. Tune in later at 3 pm to see how we made these!”

||Solomon

-He barely posts but he helps asmodeus with his stuff

-Too busy with anything else but helps out when things get interesting

-Proposes Ideas for Asmo sometimes when the demon doesn’t know what to wear for a live or a story

-Laughs at Asmo sometimes when he gets into scandals and drama

-Happy cameraman ❤️

-People follow him because 1.) He’s hot 2.) The fans ship him with Asmodeus

-Last Post: “When will you learn 🙂”

||Diavolo

-He is a vlogger~ Not a very active vlogger but a vlogger nonetheless

-He films anything he can but he’s more known on tik tok and devilgram rather than twitch or youtube

-People have been thirsting for him ever since and no one can convince me that they dont just shamelessly call him daddy whenever he goes on live

-Barbatos makes sure however that whenever it isnt appropriate anymore that he would tell diavolo to turn the camera off

-Wranggled Luci into his mess and now everyone knows the face of that one dude who just reads documents

-Everyone lowkey ships them

-Diavolo is the type to take a picture of a big meeting or a retreat out of instinct to just document his life

-He actually didnt know about vloggers before but he just liked the thought of documenting it

-Everyone picks up “Master” vibes as they say from him hehehe

-He doesnt have an Onlyfans or patreon 😔😔😔

-I honestly would have subscribed to his services

-Last post: “Barbatos made a delicious meal for us at the retreat today” Along with a picture of the Beautiful Demon Delicacy Spread in the table.

Taglist: No one yet (Please be part of the taglist for more content like this ☹️ It’s getting really discouraging)

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blackmissfrizzle · 4 years

Text

City Boy and His Country Girl- Part 2

Read Part 1

Characters: Erik Stevens x black!reader

Summary: Erik takes the reader to the shooting range and learns some interesting things.

Warnings: Language, a dash a violence, Fuckboi!Erik but mostly softboi!Erik, and mentions of smut

A/N: I’m loving this series, so I hope y’all enjoy!

Hanging out with Erik was a total shock. Back home you were used to people talking shit by dressing it up and making it seem like a compliment, but Erik, but Erik Stevens didn’t have no trouble speaking his mind.

If he didn’t like an idea you had for work it wasn’t a ‘Oh, it could be better.’ It was a ‘Texas, that shit fucking sucks. If you wanna beat them colonizers you need something better. Wake me up when you have something better.’

He had no filter on some of your outfits. “Y/N/N stop dressing like you about to go to the hoe down! This is New York City, dress like it!”

Sometimes you wanted to gouge his eyes out, but then you remembered whenever one of your coworkers insulted you, you didn’t break down and cry in the restroom, because Erik was already thickening your skin. You even found yourself snapping back at your coworkers when they tried you.

Then the self-defense training was a whole another beast! Erik was ruthless. He trained you like you were gonna join the ghost operation, he was a part of in the Navy. It didn’t matter if you just threw up, your ass better be ready, his words, not yours.

Also, it was pure torture, but not because of the physical pain. It was because somehow someway Erik always ended up naked. His raised scars were a little jarring at first, but once you got used to them, it added to his appeal.

Erik was an Adonis, a Greek statute in the living flesh. Half of the time you got knocked on your ass because you were too busy gawking at his body. Sometimes it felt like he knew you were staring because he would just smirk at you.

And then those damn gym shorts he’d be wearing, do nothing to hide his dick print. And what you could tell from it was that it was nothing to play with.

Today he was teaching you a new lesson: how to shoot. Little did he know that you had expert marksmanship. Daddy-daughter bonding with your dad was spent hunting, fishing, and shooting. Erik Stevens was in for a surprise.

“Texas, you need to keep your legs shoulder width apart and keep your feet planted,” Erik instructed, sticking his leg in between yours, forcing you into the stance.

Having him this dangerously close to you made you tremble. His scent was intoxicating and having his hard body pressed against you made you want to lean back into him and stay there.

“Damn girl! You shaking like a damn leaf, you scared or something?” Erik joked, knowing him pressing himself against you had you shaking like that. Every time he trained you, he noticed the lust in your eyes. That’s why he always took off his shirt and wore his grey sweats. One time he caught you looking at his print when you thought he wasn’t paying attention and he made his dick jump to mess with you. The little gasp you made in reaction almost had you flat on the mat while Erik had your ankles up to your ears and deep in that puss.

“No,” you said, snatching the gun off the counter. “Can we start now,” you asked, annoyed at how easily Erik affected you.

Erik raised his hands in surrender. “Damn, my bad. Remember if you miss more than five, you gotta cook me some of your bomb ass fried chicken.” Erik reminded you of the bet before pressing the button.

The targets popped up instantly and for the first time in a while you felt like you were home. Effortlessly, you hit each bullseye, leaving you wanting for more.

Facing Erik, he was standing there slacked jaw. This was the first time you had him at a loss for words and you were gonna enjoy it. “Huh, you quiet now, Oakland,” you cuffed your hand around your ear. Teasing him some more you began crunk dancing in his space. “I can’t hear you, Stevens!”

Erik was doing his best not to laugh at your silliness. He still wanted to pretend that he was mad at you, but it was proving to be harder by the minute. “Girl calm your silly ass down! You had me go through all that, just for you to breeze through like you were the one in the military. What about my fried chicken? You know a nigga hungry!”

“Boy, stop being a cry baby,” you smacked your lips. “That’s what you get for assuming shit and I wasn’t gonna leave you hanging. I know them hoes ain’t feeding your greedy ass.”

Digging for his keys in his pocket, Erik grabbed your hand and rushed the two of you out the building. “Shit lets go then! A nigga hungry!”

“Ole greedy ass,” you mumbled, letting Erik shove you into his loud ass yellow, McLaren 570s.

Erik was tearing into his plate. The only time he got a home cooked meal was with Y/N or with his aunt and cousins, which was traditional Wakandan food. So when he got some soul food he had to savor it.

“So, Texas, tell me why you so good at shooting?” Erik asked you, when he finally stopped eating to drink some sweet tea.

“My daddy used to take me out back all the time and we practiced shooting. You should see me with a shotgun.”

“Makes sense,” Erik nodded his head, thinking on how you were raised in the south. “Y/N, lemme ask you something. Its been on my mind for a while.”

Dropping your fork of mashed potatoes, you responded with worry at the seriousness of Erik’s tone, “What is it, Erik?”

“You call anyone else daddy besides your dad?”

It took awhile to catch his drift, but when you did you threw a roll at his face, which he caught with his mouth. “Ewww, no! What the hell is wrong withch yo nasty ass?”

Erik busted out laughing, causing the roll to fall out of his mouth. He had inkling that you never did before, but he loved messing with you. “Awww, c’mon on ma, you ain’t have a nigga give you some dick that you couldn’t call him nothing but daddy?” He asked, licking his lips and tilting his head looking at you curiously.

You couldn’t handle the warm feeling Erik was causing to your little bundle of nerves, so a quick diversion was needed. Resorting to your old childish antics, you stuck a finger in each of your ears and yelled, “La la la la la la la la la la.”

Taking hold of each of your wrists, Erik pulled your fingers out of your ears. “Girl grow up! Why you always shying away from talking about sex?”

“Because it’s unlady like and you not my man, Mr. Stevens.” Talking sex was a regular with your friends on girl’s night and it could get graphic, but something told you talking about sex with Erik was whole another thing.

Off rip, Erik sensed you were an undercover freak, you just needed the right person to bring it out. “Man, I don’t need to be your man to give you that good daddy dick,” Erik said, smiling, clasping his hands behind his head so you could admire his biceps.

Rolling your eyes, you got up from your seat and grabbed both of y’all plates and went to the sink. “My mama warned me about men like you, Erik Stevens.”

Getting up from his seat, Erik crept behind you, caging you in between him and the sink. “Princess, I promise there ain’t no men like me,” Erik whispered.

“Shit, Erik! Stop scaring me like that!” You yelled at him, trying your best to calm your nerves.

“My bad, ma.” Erik apologized while he took the dirty plate out your hand and bumped you with his hip to move you out of the way so he could finish the dishes.

Taking this blessing you jumped on the counter besides Erik to keep him company. At this angle you had the perfect view of his profile. Erik had the most beautiful skin, smooth and rich. He was probably one of those lucky niggas who only used soap and water on his face while you had to use fifty-eleven million products just not to get one pimple.

Right now, studying him you didn’t realize how attracted you were to his jaw. Your favorite thing was when he was deep in concentration like now or when he was annoyed, his jaw would clench, and you swore you do anything for that man.

Feeling you stare at him, but wanting to lay off on the teasing, Erik asked you a question. “So, what type of men like me did Mrs. Y/L/N warn you about?”

“Silver tongued devils that make women lose all common sense.”

Flicking his tongue suggestively, Erik answered, “I gotta admit this tongue is talented.”

Smacking him on the back of his neck, you mumbled, “Nasty ass.”

“All you gotta do is ask, ma. You don’t have to revert to elementary days to show that you like me,” Erik joked, rubbing the back of his neck with a sudsy hand.

Ignoring his comment, you changed the subject before you do something stupid and ask him to show you how talented his tongue is. “Enough talking about me. How’s the work project going?”

“Oh, it’s dope, Texas! I feel like a slacker with the kids coming up with all the ideas. All I’m doing is the actual production of the filtration system.” Erik face lit up as he went on to explain how the kids at the Outreach Center were coming up with ideas for a water filter for Flint.

The way Erik got hyped about the kids he was helping, told you he’d be an excellent father. Before your brain could dream up what you and his nonexistent children would look like his phone pinged.

Since he was busy washing dishes, Erik asked you to get it. “Oooooo, it’s a text from Ashley.”

“Which one,” he asked absentmindedly.

Rolling your eyes, you forgot that Erik had a roster of girls. “She’s got a diamond emoji next to her name.”

“Ohhh, Anal Ashley. What she want?”

Shaking your head at his fuckboy tendencies you read the text in a ditzy but sultry tone. “Daddy, I need you.”

At the sound of your voice saying daddy, Erik almost broke the glass he was washing. He would have to remember that for a later date. “See, you can call a nigga daddy. And tell her I’m busy.”

“No, I can’t. I was just getting into character. And nigga, no you not!”

Erik finished washing the last dish and then dried his hands with a towel. “I’m hanging out with my bestie. Ain’t that doing something?”

Even though you didn’t want him to go, you needed him to go. Or those feelings you were ignoring were gonna grow deeper. “You can hangout with me anytime. Go see one of your hoes. You know you get cranky when you haven’t had sex in awhile.”

There was no way Erik wanted trade time with you with some random girl for meaningless sex and meaningless conversation. But he also had a painful erection since he heard you read that text and he didn’t want to push up on you that hard. A poor substitution would have to do. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m about to watch Real Housewives of Atlanta guilt free without you judging me.” Whenever you put it on, Erik would grumble and complain about you watching trash tv.

Grabbing his keys, Erik walked to the door and you followed. “A’ight, imma head out. Lock this door as soon as I head out.” Erik commanded you, knowing you had a tendency to forget to lock your door.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Can you go now? Nene is calling my name.”

Before leaving, Erik kissed your cheek and bid you goodbye. Taking in that he kissed you, you floated to the couch, daydreaming about the man, forgetting to lock the door.

“Y/N, LOCK THIS DAMN DOOR!” Erik furious voice broke your daydream.

“Go away, Erik! Nobody’s gonna rob me while I’m here.” You yelled back, not moving an inch from your couch.

“I’m not leaving until you get your country bumpkin ass up and lock this door, deadass!”

Grumbling you got up and locked the door. “Happy now?!”

“Thank you! Imma hit you up when I’m done.” Erik told you.

Returning to your couch, you turned on your tv and tried not to think about how Erik was having sex with some one other than you.

—

“It happens to everyone, Daddy. Let’s watch some tv.” Ashley suggested, reaching for her remote with one hand and stroking his arm with another.

Erik couldn’t believe he couldn’t get it up. Especially with help from the henny.

Ashley was a beautiful girl, no doubt. A redbone version of Naomi Campbell with the attitude to match for no apparent reason, but that never stopped him before.

The thing was she wasn’t you. When Erik had his eyes closed, he could pretend it was you sucking him up, but once his eyes opened and he saw Ashley he instantly went soft.

“Nah, imma head out instead,” Erik said, lifting up from the couch.

Tugging his arm, Ashley pulled Erik back to his seat. “No, stay.”

“Listen, Ash, to be honest I don’t think this,” Erik motioned between him and Ashley. “is gonna work. I’m ending this tonight.”

Ashley’s mood changed. “It’s because of that cow you’re always posting on your snap, huh?” She said, referring to you.

Lunging across the couch, Erik’s hands wrapped around Ashley’s throat. His hands choked her tight enough to let her know he meant business but not too tight to do any damage.

“Don’t you ever fucking disrespect her like that again!” He warned through gritted teeth.

“Now Killmonger wants to come out to play! Get your crazy ass out my house!”

Erik shoved her into the couch before he hopped up. “Lose my fucking number too! I don’t wanna hear from your ignorant ass anymore.”

“Nobody wants a limped ass dick nigga anyway! Good riddance!” Ashley shouted as Erik slammed the door.

While he was walking to his car, Erik texted the one person who he knew still be up.

MSG ERIK: Hey, I’m on my way over so get ready because we ain’t watching that RHOA shit. We watching The Godfather.

MSG Y/N: Already??? Damn Oakland, I didn’t know you were a minute man 😂 and who tf you think you are??? This my house and we’ll watch whatever I want PERIODT!

MSG ERIK: Girl, don’t play with me before I have to make an example of you 💪🏾 and like I said we watching The Godfather.

MSG Y/N: 🙄🙄🙄 whatever. I’ll leave the door unlocked.

MSG ERIK: Y/N KEEP THAT DOOR FUCKING LOCKED!

You read his message but didn’t reply. Erik hated being left on read. Happily, you skipped to unlock your door, knowing that was one more thing to piss off your bestie.

Sliding into his driver’s seat, Erik double checked his phone to see if he was reading it correctly. It said you read his last message, but you didn’t reply.

“This little girl really left me on read. Imma get her ass and that door better be locked when I get there,” Erik mumbled to himself while securing himself.

Soon as the car roared to life, Erik sped down the streets of New York rushing to get to the one woman who made him want to pull his hair out and cuddle her at the same time.

Tagging: @fd-writes @raysunshine78 @momobaby227 @thickemadame @twistedcharismaaa @marvelmaree @ladydragonpurplefire @l-auteuse @thehomierobbstark @titty-teetee @nerd-lovely @soufcakmistress @chaneajoyyy

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lordxgrinnyxboy · 4 years

Text

rewatching The Grinning Man once again,,2am edition,,just through Beauty and the Beast bc i had to give up and go to bed. @past me you really thought you were gonna. ha. haha. who ever said you’re not a funny clown.

‘ye gods’ is fully a tagphrase of barkilphedro’s. bc saying it at least twice makes it definitely a Thing.

josiana says Bark looks like a...~bug~...and ngl the cut of his coat + those limp antenna things on his hat do actually kinda create that effect. they really did make him look like a skittering creature

accidentally paused at such a moment where his head is angled just so and it’s so weird bc u can’t see the paint on his nose at this angle what

i could play barkilphedro. it would be a ghastly shame but i. no. i could though. no i couldn’t. but

everything bark says just sounds very...Like That.

gonna start doing eye makeup like bark’s

i have so many feelings about the fact that Mr. Maskell’s ensemble(?) character and Ms. Obianyo’s ensemble character stand beside each other for this scene

au where Gwyn’s mom lives and the two of them work as performers

no but fully that Green Cowl but also like. Ms. Obianyo’s entire outfit??? that is a Fantastic Look right There right There.

i like how Bark points at an audience member when he says “whose life is even worse than yours”

okay so the mist that comes up when Bark first says “laughter is the best medicine” plus the way Ms. Obianyo’s ensemble character Looks At Him plus the way Ms. Obianyo’s Ensemble Character and Mr. Maskell’s Ensemble Character stand next to each other plus the fact that this is all Barkilphedro telling the story of events he perpetrated and whatnot just generally the whole look of the bit gives me Feelings like these particular two ensemble characters are almost sort of the ghosts of Gwyn’s mom and kinda sorta who Gwyn could’ve been but also not but also Kinda

i’m just so very emotional and love seeing these two together they look amazing and i love them DX

Josiana’s Introduction/Portrait dress looks fantastic and im mad she doesn’t get to keep it

London!Jojo’s costume is better

genuinely still can’t believe Clarence is Ursus

but it’s kinda ironic tho since it’s by Clarence’s orders that Bark was ever in the situation where ‘hmm guess i havvvve to mutilate this kid’s face lol, that’s too bad” was a thought htat occurred to him so i mean both of Ursus’ characters had a hand in what happened

clarence is like “look at my unhappy children/what a tonic for my pain” ursus is like “...” and dea’s like “look at your unhappy children father i dare u”

the lords on palace hill are a gift

Ms. Brisson is just a truly adorable individual i love her ensemble character

also the material on the sort of dress/aprons the Lords wear? the print kind of looks like a map to me but idk if that’s what it is?

Osric’s “Welcome to the Stokes-Croft Faire” is like. one of the top 10 most iconic moments of the show for me negl. maybe even top 5. It’s got this particular energy i can’t describe but it’s So Good

i feel like in this scene like the top half of Mr. Maskell’s face is painted white(er) which looks fabulous once the bandages + cowl are added like heavens above but also with the whole “ooooh that’s the ghost of pre-barkilphedro!Gwynplaine” angle it’s interesting w/how Jojo’s got that bit of white paint/powder as well and it looks like Dirry-Moir’s whole face is painted at least for this number like Ooooh Is That A Lord Thing idk but it’s a Vibe

i once again think it’s interesting that it’s the actors for Angelica and Jojo who are in the picture frame for “Chained Beasts Fighting” considering how Jojo and Angelica seem to for real not get along so well during the play’s events

i’ve another theory abt mr. hubert

bark’s really like all up on Mr Maskensemblecharacter for the “stab an old man with a needle” bit.

i’ve tried so hard to figure out what the heck that could mean but all i can find is “they’re probably referring to murdering ppl with hat pins” u-u

yo the artwork on the walls behind them Wowie

gosh i love Osric

the little dance thing they do after “I’ve got the misery” is something i yearn for like. pls.

idk if anyone gets more into that last Laughter is the Best Medicine choreo than mr. Dirry-Moir like. he is positively Aggressive with it

the drum or whatever makes that little repeating like, three-point, one-two-three over and over toward the peak of this song is like. i don’t know what i was about to say but I Like This Part Of The Song Even Though It Is Very Stressful And Intense

idk man gwyn just looks Really Good when ursus pulls back that curtain like idk if it’s the way he’s standing or the way he’s moving however slightly or what he’s doing with his hands but like. A+ Gwynlit you look fantastic right here

i like how initially he looks just at Ursus but then kind of looks directly into the camera. sort of fancy the notion that in order to get through shows Gwyn’s kind of particular about where he looks and will try to focus on Ursus and Dea as much as possible but otherwise kind of just tries to not really See the audience maybe or something

oh hey that’s Born Broken that’s music boxing hangon lemme go back what plays for

i don’t reckona- give me a minute - i don’t. recognize. there we go. the music box sound that plays for gwyn

dea is So Pretty

“I shall put my money where my mouth is” dirry-moir that is a most unfortunate turn of phrase

ngl gwyn always looks like he’s having a good time doing up the Drama for his act as Clarence

shadow!gwyn’s hair is next level kinds of floofy magnificence

even his bandages look amazing

“Sonny” :}

no but when Gwyn walks little puppet!Gwyn up the ramp to the ship but Dea’s helping and so they wind up standing Very Close and there’s Height Difference i’m sorry but they are Adorable

i reall like the ocean effect they do

Dea’s cowl look is Exquisite

can’t actually remember for real for real but i’m fairly confident that Mr. Maskell’s “MOTHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER MOTHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEER” was at least 67% of what initially forced me to fall in love with this show so Thank You Mr. Maskell For That

the cowl + bandages just looks so good i don’t know what to say. that’s a Look right there. the eye makeup? the hair? The Bandages and Cowl? I’m sorry who says this is not a handsome boy?

he looks amzing

puppet!gwyn constantly looks like he’s got one eyebrow raised thanks to how the eye area is carved

i want to know how Ursus thought he wasn’t going to wind up with a couple of the most dramatic chidlren on the earth like when did he think there was a chance they wouldn’t both turn out Dramatic

high note hazlit has arrived

i wish that in the Osric Raises Gwyn au there was some way for Osric to meet like Ghost!Hazlit or i don’t even know but. they need. to meet each other.

Osric’s got vibes and i don’t know what they are but they’re so powerful and they move me to intense affection

it’s Ridiculously Tall-looking Gwyn time. he goes to stand up straight and keeps on Extending

he really just keeps his eyes on the puppet at all times tho

“your little hat can find out what it means” i know he said ‘heart’ but he said ‘hat’ gwyn needs a hat send tweet

book gwyn got to have a hat

don’t worry gwynlit osric’s gonna take care of that in the au

dea’s so cute

so when Ursus says “for certain, it would be no man” is that like a heads-up that they changed the wolf’s name bc now it isn’t Homo anymore or

it’s 3am now and im only 20 minutes in help me dea

forearms

the “No” “Yes, yes” when Ursus first gives him the Crimson Lethe kills me every single time bro.

how long is this post do i need to shut up yet

i’ve babbled for longer before i think we’re good

And Ursus Gave The Boy A Name. A Cruel Name. A Name That Means “Wow That Debilitating Wound Carved Into Your Actual Face Must Hurt Pretty Bad Huh Kidlet”

arms

still mad about the fact that Ursus mentions “Melt into mist/no longer exist” and Barkilphedro uses those Exact Words

i always assume they’re talkin about going to Murca but i mean technically anywhere could be the ‘new world’ huh

forearm

see the one thing i

when he says “we’ll come back to the place where once we were lost in the snow” now im thinking about adult!lord!Gwyn revisiting like. the actual place. where it all Happened like. imagine adult!Gwyn going back to the gallows-site and just.

under angelica’s reign it’s probably converted into a memorial instead ofc and is no longer a gallows-site but still

puppet!Dea doesn’t wear shoes

when puppet!Dea first goes “Mojo?” puppet!Gwyn kinda reaches toward her for a sec like he’s Concerned

Dirry-Moir waving at Dea like he’s trying to figure if she really is blind smh

cowl gwyn is such a phenomenal look

GWYN DOES THE FOOT WIGGLE DURING THE BEAUTY AND THE BEAST SCENE I JUST NOW NOTICED

HIS FOOT IS ACTUALLY FLAT ON THE GROUND SO INSTEAD OF IT BEING A LITTLE HEEL SHAKE IT’S MORE LIKE A LIL ANKLE TWISTY BUT. !!

puppet!Gwyn fiddles with his shirt/vest a lot

forearm

the lil motion with his head after the Kiss tho rlly does look suspicious like the “twinge (of unspeakable agony)” motion tho

love how Osric just runs along to go with to see the rest of the show like. he’s into it.

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axther · 4 years

Note

Hello first of all I really love ur blog 🥺 ur writing is just so good ugh 🥰 if you have the time I was wondering if I could get a matchup for bnha? I’m an INFP, bisexual girl. I’m 5’9” and I’m a little bit insecure about it. My main hobbies are playing violin and fish keeping. I’m told I have a resting bitch face and I’m very selective when it comes to friends but when I do make friends I’m very close with them and goofy. I’m very big on affection (touch starved gang where y’all at) (1/2)

touch starved gang is here 😔 also for note i gave u a hint of a siren quirk bc fishy!!! swimmy!! song!!!

#1 is…Bakugou!

God...the balance…

this shit is EXQUISITE

So hear me out

But Bakugou is ridiculously expressive,

just not on most of the good stuff

While you tend to be a bit guarded

But you’re very sweet, when it comes down to it

So the fact that y’all are two sides of the same coin was really obvious

Now lemme say

Bakugou may be mean, but he can also be very, very soft

He wants to hike with you!!

He wants to swim with you!!

You guys are cleaning out the tank??

He’ll hold the fishbowl with the fishes in them!!

He takes it very seriously!!

You want to swim and practice your quirk??

Though he can’t use his quirk in water, he’ll absolutely ask you to help him practice

By shooting water at him while he uses his quirk

*insert zuko throwing water gif that I couldn’t FUCKING find but please bear with me, it’s him throwing a bucket of water at a firebender, and it extinguishes the fire and he attacks the dude*

Like that!!

God he really loves the dynamic you guys have

He’s not too crazy into PDA, per se

But you want to give him a kiss on the cheek? Hold hands?

He’s won’t argue

He will get embarrassed but let’s be honest he would be incredibly flattered and happy

this mf wants to cuddle!!

He may bitch and whine, but at the end of the day

the fucker is the little spoon

Especially after the training camp?

Yeah he wants to be held, wants to be protected

Please please please play with his hands while y’all are cuddling

His hands are the centre of his power

They’re his burden

And with you holding them, poking at the tips of his fingers

It feels like he can breathe without suffocating

And some days, when you’re on the couch in the main room

He’ll walk in and he’ll just look so tired

He’ll stand in front of you for a moment before just collapsing over you

And now you’re smothered by him

But oh my god is he a cuddle bug

#2 is…Mina!!

My first thought??

She’d make goofy faces with your fishes

Puffing out her cheeks and hold staring contests with them

And she’ll be giddy the entire time

Anyone who sees it WILL be soft

She’s your hype wife!

Plus jetpacking??

Yes’m y’all know that’s gonna b happening

She loves PDA!!!

If you don’t lather her in kisses within ten minutes

She WILL suffocate you in a hug and just!!!

Ugh!! She loves you!!

100% will have her arm slung around your waist

“This is my girlfriend.”

“Hi, this is my lover.”

“Don’t touch my wife!!”

She’s got a policy of look, don’t touch for anyone interested in you

“You like my gf? You may observe. Touch her, though, and I’ll melt your dick.”

And though she may seem like a player

She will absolutely stick around

You want to get married?

She can and will wear a leopard print tux to her own wedding

Whenever you play the violin around her she will stop to listen

It doesn’t matter what you want to play

Or even if you’re just tuning it

The fact that it’s so harmonious is bliss

When y’all go out she will die of happiness if you wear heels

And she will flaunt you!!

Y’all will be walking down the street, and she’s pretty and pink, and beside her is this Amazonian woman with a glare that could kill and heels like knives

But the moment she drags you to the side to see something, and you start smiling softly

Everyone knows

And everyone gets really soft bc!!! The dynamic is incredible

Soft/tall + short/rambunctious? Yes’m!!

#3 is…Iida!

mans is 5’10 and unironically thinks you’re short

He genuinely has no idea what you’re worried over

He thinks you’re beautiful and graceful, so why would you be worried about your height??

It throws him for a loop ngl

But either way

He’s all over it

Takes you home almost immediately

He is in for the LONG RUNNN

He spoils you!!

Promise rings?? Big ass fish tanks?? A whole ass new violin??

He’s got it for you

Pet names?? yes’m!!

He’ll call you ‘my dear, my beloved, my sun, my star, my princess, my angel,’ all of the really gooey romantic names under the sun

While he isn’t very PDA-y, he will be happy to receive a hug!

No kisses during school hours tho :( that’s not appropriate

After though??

He best be prepared for smooches!! :D!!

Likes it when you rest your head on his shoulders!

Makes him feel strong and protective

And speaking of protective…

When someone asks you out, he is not shy in shutting them down

“Excuse me, but I am her boyfriend, and I am ashamed that you would think to ask a taken woman out! Not only that, but that you would consider that she would even cheat! That is absolutely atrocious behaviour in a future hero, and I fully expect better!”

Y’all would think that he’s a teacher with how he goes off

#matchups #matchup #bnha x reader

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easilydistractedbyfanfic · 4 years

Note

Did u notice the same lettering on octavia's tattoo is also on lincolns horn in s1

Hi, Nonnie! Unfortunately, no - I did not catch this during the latest season of the show. But luckily someone in the fandom with eagle-eyes did, because I believe there’s a gifset out there in the interwebz that shows these images and that’s how it first got on my radar. I think the connection could lead to some VERY interesting places, and I sure hope they tie in to the whole Cadogan/Second Dawn/Becca Franco storyline that I’d love to learn more about!

Being a fan of the lore of this show can be so exciting but also so tough. I love theorizing and looking for connections, but past history of shows I like (LOST, Twin Peaks) have shown me that often there’s just not as deep of a storyline as I’d hoped. Do I want the last season of t100 to tie a lot up and not leave plot lines dangling? Heck yeah! Am I confident that will happen? Ehhh....

I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m very disappointed in the lack of promotion for S7 so far. There’s hardly a thing to theorize about lately, and we have no bts photos. Other than learning more about the Anomaly and the other Eligius-III planets I expect we’ll see some of, I really have no clue what kind of characterization or plot we’re going to get. Another fandom friend and I were chatting about how so many of the characters got a sort of re-boot in S6, as if S5 didn’t even exist, and I’ve been thinking about that a lot today. I don’t want to get my hopes up about S7 for fear of being utterly disappointed, but I am looking forward to finding out how it all turns out too. I’m in a weird fandom place right now, I think.

Eek, this response took a little turn! Lemme throw some stuff out there...We could suppose a lot about Lincoln’s horn - was it something he found? Something he was given? The horn and the Anomaly both “call” in their own way - what could this mean? How did ancient symbols found on Sanctum get on a horn (and maybe other places) that’s on Earth?

We know that the Anomaly Stone - and therefore likely Octavia’s tattoo and Lincoln’s horn, and maybe Hope’s face tattoo (and god I wish/hope Gaia’s Flamekeeper tattoo as well) - has a symbol called an Octonion, which represents “8″, which of course ties in to Becca’s symbol on its side and infinity, and we know that some of the Primes are in their 8th form of existence. Hello, Octavia’s name itself ties right in, and her nickname “O” is similar to the Greek letter Theta that is used to represent Octonions in print. Mathematically, Octonions are represented by 1 *real* and 7 *imaginary* numbers (totalling 8) and man if I don’t find THAT little tidbit interesting! One real and 7 imaginary...hmmm....In simple terms that I found, Octonions are being used in the basis for String Theory, so they could kind of describe the structure of the Universe. I found a quote from a math dude saying “Octonions are to physics what the Sirens were to Ulysses” - so there, look, we’re hearing about that *calling* again. And then I found out that there’s some kind of math rule where Octonions are non-associative and there’s this symbol like a triangle with stuff in it called the Fano Plane. Non-associative - meaning it matters HOW THEY ARE GROUPED. Oh, heck now does THIS lead to some interesting things, because it would be super fun to imagine the Anomaly being a bit of a wormhole that can get them all to different Eligius III landing sites depending on the code that’s typed in, right? And if it matters HOW THEY ARE GROUPED, then who should go with who and how do they figure that out? And what happens if they get the grouping wrong or right? Becca’s notebook has a lot of calculations in it - what’s she got to say about particle physics and String Theory? If an Octonion represents 8, who could these 8 people be and why? Lots of possibilities there, and I know 8 characters who were born in space and are still alive (Bellamy, Clarke, Octavia, Miller, Raven, Murphy, Jackson & Jordan, for one option). Hey look at that - those options also conveniently pair up, don’t they? And I don’t just mean romantically, either. It matters HOW THEY ARE GROUPED...

Shoot, honestly I guess I can theorize about anything in this show but most of the time I just write weird stuff down in my notebook and share it with a few fandom friends. Lately though I fell into a rabbit hole and started looking into ‘time series analytics’ which is used in signal processing, improving transmissions, astronomy and temporal measurements - which ties into the radios on Sanctum, the mind drives, the code in Becca’s notebook, Raven’s ability to use the JULIA computer programming code and white noise. Maybe it’ll all mean something... maybe it won’t.

Still - the most important thing, IMHO - don’t ruin my faves, JRoth! Sorry this post got away with me, Nonnie! Thanks for the ask even though maybe now I’ve made you sorry you sent it! LMAO! xoxo

#my inbox #asked and answered #my meta #t100 spec #t100 s7 spec #t100 theories

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