#also what he said in three rivers about wanting to live for what he believes in. and getting to see and enjoy it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

producedbyhan · 7 months

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"Want so BAD" - Lee Know, HAN (A messy essay)

I'll start off by saying I'm hesitant to post this. I don't really condone RPF and/or shipping of real people in most cases. However, I will be discussing why I believe there is some chance that Minho and Jisung are trying to tell us something with this song, and the possibility that "I love their friendship" reactions to the song are not necessarily what they wanted.

First off, some background for those that don't know. LGBT+ Koreans in the entertainment industry (especially idols) cannot come out, unless they want to risk losing their career. There are only a handful of people who have come out, and they have been either removed from their company, fired, or blacklisted by the media (i.e, they cannot appear on TV, radio, etc). There was one instance of a boy group which had 2 members being open about the fact that they were dating for several years, yet when one of the members had to re-debut in a different group, his company insisted they were “just close colleagues.” There is another instance of a soloist who had to fund their own debut through part-time jobs, as no labels would sign them due to being open about their sexuality.

Discrimination is also a serious issue - in the Anti-discrimination Act (2007) by The National Human Rights Commission of South Korea, the section prohibiting discrimination based on sexual orientation was withdrawn, and there are no federal laws against LGBT discrimination. In March 2015, the Ministry of Education banned the teaching of homosexuality or any other non-straight sexual orientation in sex education classes. Pride parades in Seoul are minimal and irregular, and face threats and violence from several different protest groups. On the 2019 Franklin & Marshall Global Barometer of Gay Rights, developed nations averaged a grade of B. South Korea, however, was one of only three countries to earn an "F," [1] and countries that receive an F are "persecuting" their LGBTQ+ communities. Men also have to face the additional issue when it comes to forced enlistment, where same-sex sexual activity in the military is illegal, sexual minorities can be marked as having a “mental handicap” or “personality disorder,” and hazing is widespread.

Now, onto the song - released on October 14th, aka. national "I love you" day. Not everything I mention will have a reference link, but I'll try to include an example here and there.

I'm not going to chart their entire history because we would be here all day, but some of the things they've shared are: Jisung's story about how they first met [2], and how they've always bonded over being movie partners [3] and their shared fear of heights (and amusement park "dates"). While they've always been close (can-kiss-each-other-on-the-neck-and-flirt-constantly-like-a-couple-close) the teasing from the other members has really ramped over 2023, with nearly every other member telling them to marry. They themselves have also been calling each other their s/o several times while on tour [4] and in a rachalog. Jisung also did a freestyle rap about love on tour that included "Should we go to the Han River today?" something Minho asks him to get him out of the dorm. In some parts of this song they sound like they're directly singing to each other, for example "For me, it's always you" being echoed back to the other.

Jisung said he was looking up flower language. The official birth month flower for October (When Minho's birthday falls) is the cosmos flower. [5]

Call and response from Han to something Minho said in their 2022 Two Kids Room.

Parallels to Jisung's song "Volcano", released just before Valentine's Day earlier this year.

I'll embrace the wounds you shed To me, you're already a sin I can't refuse because you're sweeter than evil

I can't live without you you're the only one, even if I die Even if I'm reborn over and over again, it's only you I want to give only to you my heart is burning When I'm thinking of you, my mind is Like a volcano

If it wasn't about each other, I have to wonder why they would make the cover art a collage of them together (none of these being pics we've seen before), some at the Han River, with the song lyrics decorating them. Other SKZ-RECORDS, be it solo or duets have a photo/image taken specifically for them... Even the title of the song itself reminds me of the beginning of the year when Minho commented "I want?? someone like you" on Jisung's IG post.

And finally, Minho and Jisung had both been quiet about this song both before, and after it dropped (something that never happens with SKZ-RECORDS - Jisung in particular is very talkative about them and usually spoils it in advance, does a Q&A, or goes live) until he broke the silence with this and everything it might imply.

To conclude. I think there's some chance that putting out this song to the public is the closest they can get to confirming there's something between them without irreparably hurting their future. While it's technically possible that this could all be a series of coincidences, I do feel that they knew exactly how this could be perceived by longterm/serious fans - if you know you know.

#minsung #han #lee know #stray kids #skz #want so bad #minho #jisung #was also going to mention how jisung to date has never put anything gendered in his writing and case 143's well. existence.#but I think we all know that anyway #this post is a bit disorganised might adjust it later

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buzzheadchick · 3 months

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Okay time I do my Walten Files posting. I’ve noticed some confusion regarding timelines and what’s happening when, so I want to try to write down what happens and when. Now someone this stuff not make much sense, and some may possibly be retconned, but this is what we are given.

The crash happened the night of May 2nd. Multiple times in the series we are told this. Jack calls Felix that night, Felix does not pick up. Jack goes to Felix’s house (12:23 AM according to CC), Felix does not answer. Jack says “I know you can hear me” and “I know you’re in there,” but we are to presume this is wishful thinking on his end, because Felix is not actually home. Felix was out until early hours of the morning the next day (May 3rd) digging the graves (still sitting in one as of 8:56 AM according to CC), throwing the bag into the river, and then going to the police station. Even earlier in the morning, presumably after Jack went to Felix’s house (which was past midnight and thus morning), Jack had already gone to the police. We learn this in the description under Lacrimosa.

"Report 90892 May 4th, 1974 - Brighton City Police Department

Wrr: Frank Davis

Felix Archer Kranken reportedly arrived at the station in the morning on May 3rd, He had a broken pair of glasses, dirty blue pants and a yellow dress shirt covered in dirt and blood. When I got the call He was already taken into custody, we sat him down for a few hours and he revealed valuable information about a case we were previously told about earlier that same day by Mr. Jack Walten. Walten's 2 youngest kids, Edd and Molly Walten, had disappeared with Kranken the night prior. Felix's alibi stated he was unconscious or about 20 minutes, when he woke up the kid had ran off."

In TFW4, we get a sort of update from Felix from “3 days after the accident.” He said he “finally told them what happened” in his office, which I think we are to believe he told them the truth, as opposed to the lie he told the police. However, he still lies about the Rocket doll. In the description under Guilty, we see this:

"In memorial of Edward Walten - Molly Walten:

- Ed (12) and Molly (9) died Thursday, May 2nd, 1974 in a fatal car accident, they were leaving a party made by their school to celebrate Spring. Jack Walten (father, husband) couldn't take the kids to the celebration because of work. A friend of Mr. Walten would take the kids instead. On the way back home, Jack's friend would be driving in questionable conditions, thus crashing his car near the road next to Saint Juana's forest. Instantly taking both Edward and Molly's lives. You will be remembered, our little angels, our little red children."

The video Guilty is from three years ago, so this may be retconned, but it is the current understanding that by the time of the funeral for Ed and Molly, they knew the truth of what happened. This points to the idea that during the meeting in Felix’s office, he told the truth. However, it is unclear if this truth went out to the police. There are a few reasons why The Waltens may not go forward with the information Felix told them, but I don’t cover them here as they aren’t explicitly stated.

It is unclear when the funeral is, but based off of the memorial, it is after Felix came clean. In TWF4, on “05/13” (May 13th) Susan and Charles only find out “weeks” later about the funeral, but it physically couldn’t have been more than ten days, implying the funeral was held quickly after the accident, possibly as soon as they Waltens found out the truth. With it also being clear it was “family only,” it seems in addition to not telling the police, the family hadn’t told ANYONE. It is unclear if Susan and Charles know the full truth, or only the truth given to the police, only that he was “drunk while driving the car.” By that time, Susan says she hasn’t heard from Jack “in a long while.” Both of them think there’s something off with Felix’s story, implying that they maybe don’t know the full truth, but they could just be doubting what we the audience have been shown (which still may not be the full story). Charles asks if the kids are “gone,” which is ambiguous wording. I think it may be intentional that we don’t know what they know. Some point prior to that, Felix hid Rocket at Bon’s Burgers, and told Susan not to tell Rosemary or Jack. Jack disappears almost a month later, on June 11th. Susan dies even later, on June 30th.

So that’s the timeline of the events we see surrounding the new video. I can’t tell you if maybe there’s more than Felix even knows happened that night, or who knows what, or why the Waltens haven’t gotten Felix arrested. But that’s the timeline.

#The Walten Files #the walten files spoilers #TWF #twf spoilers #twf 4

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bright-side20 · 2 months

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Death Gods/Asteri

In addition to the fact that the bone carver literally told us that the cauldron is corrupted, there are other parallels between what he said about death gods and the asteri/daglan

Acowar:

The bone carver about his original planet:

The Carver folded his legs beneath his small frame. "Where we came from... I do not believe it is now anything more than dust drifting across a plain. There is no home to return to. Not one that I desire."

Hofas:

Vesperus about the Asteri's original planet:

"We grew too populous. Wars broke out between the various beings on our world. Some of us saw the changes in the land beginning-rivers run dry, clouds so thick the sun could not pierce them and left."

Acowar:

The bone carver about the Fae warrior who confined Stryga:

"for that long- ago Fae warrior to trick Stryga into diminishing her power and becoming confined to the Middle. Koschei, too confined and bound by his little lake on the continent. All before Prythian, before the land was carved up and any High Lord was crowned."

Hofas:

Vesperus about Theia confining her:

Vesperus glowered. "Theia knew that for my kind, this sort of punishment would be far worse than death. To be confined, yet live. To neither breathe, nor eat, nor drink-but to be left in half slumber. starving." That gleam in her eyes-it wasn't solely rage. It was mad- ness. "It would have been a mercy to kill me."

Acowar:

My sister she found a way to eat life itself. To stay young and beautiful forever thanks to the lives she steals

Isn't that what basically the Asteri/daglan do?

I think these are very obvious parallels between death gods and Daglan.Plus when Feyre asked the bone carver what are you, he said that he's forgotten and prefers to stay like that. The Fae think that daglan do not exist anymore so I think they in fact still existed but under the name of death gods. I think that the Starsword is now in Prythian for that reason, if Koschei manage to unleash himself from that lake maybe eventually they'll need to reunite the Starsword and the Truth-Teller. If so I hope we'll see the three sisters working together.

Concerning Amren I think that she's somehow related to Daglan since she knows their language, was she one of them, I'm not sure but I think she might be an old creation of them in their world, just like they created Illyrians in Prythian and Malakhim in Midgard. Also, I think she knows more than she revealed because :

Rhys demanded, “Why do you want me to turn conqueror?” Amren shot back, “Why do you shy from the power that is your birthright?”

His birthright? How did Amren know?

Silene lived for a very long period. Did she met her after escaping the prison? Or did she guess that Rhys is a Starborn based on his power?

#acotar thoughts #acotar theory #3 brothers 3 sisters #sarahjmaas #acowar #hofas

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ckret2 · 10 months

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Time for chapter 7 of "Human Bill Attempts To Murder The Pines And Ends Up Their Prisoner/Involuntary House Guest," which will eventually get a title, I'm sure. Featuring: an explanatory flashback!!! And also—angst.

Chapters one, two, three, four, five, six.

Bill liked collecting prophecies about himself. Interdimensional historical records only lightly alluded to his presence, but that didn't matter. History was written by the winners about the losers. Prophecies were written by the losers about the winner.

He liked being so important—dangerous enough that people felt the need to write fairy tales about how to kill him.

And he liked the warnings about what threats to look out for.

The Axolotl's "redemption" wasn't a prophecy so much as an offer—although Bill had learned of it in the form of a prophecy, passed from Axolotl to prophet and from believer to believer until the divine gossip grapevine finally reached him. The stupid salamander never even had the guts to extend the offer to Bill personally. And as such, he knew little about the details—like whether it was a limited-time offer that had expired a million years back, or whether Bill could only accept the Axolotl's conditions voluntarily rather than under duress... or even whether it was true.

Imprisoned in Stanley Pines's burning mind, stripped of every trick and spell he knew, reduced to a delicate two-dimensional shape on a collision path with a three-dimensional fist, he had called out to the Axolotl and desperately prayed it was true.

####

So the fact that he could remember all this was a good sign: he was alive, and he still had his memories.

The prophecy as he'd heard it said something about getting a full pardon by taking another shape in another time—he'd worried that might mean reincarnation, with no recollection of his former life. But no. He was still Bill Cipher. He could pick up where he left off.

Just as soon as he oriented himself.

It took a moment to figure out how to peel open his eyeballs. Two of them, he was pretty sure. He'd expected to be a square or something. Maybe isosceles. But—he rolled his eyes experimentally—he was some three-dimensional animal? His brain registered the sky above as a hazy something-blueish, but that didn't mean much until he knew what kind of color vision this species had. The sun made a long streak across the sky and burned to look at.

He was sure he'd worn one of these creatures before. On a hunch, he ran his tongue along the inside of his teeth—definitely human. His rib cage twitched as he laughed—a bitter hiss, the first time he'd used this body's voice. The Ax had a sick sense of humor, sticking Bill with the species that killed him. Well, fine. He knew more about humanity than humans themselves did, and he'd worn countless human bodies before. This was one of the easiest starts he could ask for.

Now that he knew what he was, the muscle memory came more easily. He sat up on the warm concrete ground to inspect his new prison. Four limbs with five mini-limbs each, no interesting mutations or deformities that he could see, yawn. And human skin came in such painfully boring neutral tones; he'd have to redecorate. He flexed his finger joints experimentally, imagining his hand encased in gold rings and bangles. He could live with that until he figured out how to recreate his real body. The skin was reasonably elastic, neck felt too narrow (he hated how goofy human necks looked), an impressive 20 for 20 arched fingerprints and toeprints (quirky, but Bill suspected the Ax wanted to ensure he'd stand out if he ever got his fingerprints in a police database), head line like a river, absolutely hideous heart line, so-so melanoma resistance, healthy-looking cellulite pattern...

While in the middle of trying to contort himself like a cat licking its butthole, from the corner of one of his eyeballs, he spied a mass of golden yellow filaments dangling from the top of his head. Several internal organs automatically convulsed and spasmed at the sight; white lights and awful gory memories and the room he'd died in flashed by his mind's eye; he felt the flesh on the inside of his throat struggle to thrash around, and had to seal a hand over his mouth to keep from regurgitating whatever was inside him. He closed his eyes to hide the awful filaments dangling down from his scalp but now he couldn't stop feeling them brush against his cheeks and shoulders. For a long moment he was paralyzed in place, heavy breaths whistling through his ridiculous little nose tubes, mentally battling his own body's attempt to revolt against him in his moment of weakness.

This inspection was just a distraction. He couldn't ignore that he was stuck in a carcass made of meat, and even as his pulse pounded in his ears he was marching toward decay. He hated this body. He hated it.

Somebody was going to pay.

####

Bill saw the time police coming around the corner of a crumbling building several minutes before they would arrive. Of all the rotten luck— He contemplated running, considered how far he'd get in a fresh, uncalloused, nude body before a shard of glass ripped his bare feet open, and instead hurried to hide behind a pile of rubble.

As the officers drew closer to the moment Bill saw they would turn the corner, he heard one say: "Would you put that stupid thing away and focus? We're suppose to be on the lookout for Cipher."

Bill's heart leaped into his throat. (He was pretty sure it wasn't actually his heart, but it sure felt like that. Huh. That's one baffling English idiom explained.) They'd found him already? How? Had the Axolotl snitched on him to Time Baby? Was this "second chance" just a petty trick to get him locked up? Maybe it wasn't too late to run—

"But this is stupid," another voice grumbled. "Cipher won't show up here. This is worse than hover car crosswalk duty—"

"Listen," the first officer snapped. "Today is exactly one thousand years since Cipher's death and this is the exact place it happened. Time Intelligence is sure that if he finds a way to return, it'll be on some dramatic anniversary. Need I remind you we've got officers swarming Roadkill County for six months in both directions from his death—"

"I know, I know—"

"—and patrolling on every anniversary for the first century, every centennial anniversary for the first millennium, every millennial anniversary for the first—"

"I know, I know—"

"And if he's going to make a move, there's a high risk that the first millennial anniversary—"

"But the world is ending in less than four months! Why would he come here?"

"I don't know, maybe he wants to watch Time Baby's molecules reconstitute! Our only job is to find Cipher if he is here—Would you put that away!"

The world was ending. That made this 3012. The Ax probably thought he was cute, dropping Bill exactly a thousand years after his death.

Even better: Time Baby and his goons didn't actually know Bill was here. He could still take them by surprise.

Best of all: what exactly had the Ax promised? Something something another time, another form—Bill never recalled hearing anything about another place. He was still in Gravity Falls.

And that gave him an idea.

Bill peeked over the rubble. The officers were so close to the moment they would turn the corner that Bill could see the irritation on one's face and the handheld game console in the other's hands; and he was also beginning to see the fuzzy shape of his own future self approaching them as a plan formed in his head. He ducked again. Only one shot at this. Would a human think he looked harmless and vulnerable? Those uniformed slabs of muscle were two feet taller than him, and he was naked. Check and check.

He waited until they turned the corner, then stepped out from behind the rubble pile, waving. "Oh, thank goodness, the police!" Probably the first and last time he was ever saying that. "I'm lost, confused, and can't seem to find my clothes. Can you he—" He tripped on a concrete chunk, yelped, and had to grab the officers for balance. "... help." Okay. That was good. Extra harmless-looking. He meant to do that. But he made a mental note to spend a few minutes on walking practice once he got away.

Grumpy Officer was looking toward the sky. "Oh." Gamer Officer was hiding his face behind his game console. "Oh dear." Grumpy Officer cleared his throat and said, "Of—of course. We're happy to help, Miss...?"

Heck. Think of a human name fast. "Tomato."

Gamer Officer said, "This entire decade is supposed to be evacuated, Ms. Tomato. Where and when did you come from?"

"I'm not sure, it's all such a blur! One minute it's August in 2912², the next it's... whatever this is!"

"I have family in 2912². Beautiful year," Gamer Officer said helpfully. Bill decided not to point out that, given how linear time works, he had family in every year.

Grumpy Officer said, "We'll get you to your contemporary authorities, ma'am. They'll help you get home." Still trying not to look directly at Bill, he detached his time tape from his belt, drew it out, and hesitated. He turned to Gamer Officer. "Hold on. Weren't Augusts abolished in squared years?" (Darn. Bill never could remember if it was Augusts or Julys.)

Both officers were desperately avoiding looking directly at Bill, one had his hands full with the game console, the other had his time tape extended inches in front of Bill—now. Bill flung his whole weight on Grumpy Officer's arm to wrench the tape away from him, pulled out a random length, and snapped out of 3012 before the officers could registered what happened.

####

The first jump was just to escape. The second jump took him to a ruined battlefield in the middle of the Time Baby War—Bill knew his human history—where Bill could dump this cheap police time tape riddled with temporal tracking technology and scavenge a military tape off a fallen soldier.

By the time he found a tape in good condition, his abdomen, eyes, and head had developed an assortment of overlapping aches. Nothing he couldn't ignore. But it was worth the effort: the military tape was less prone to overheating, more lax on permitting temporal doubles and time loops, and built with standard-issue paradox-cloaking stealth tech. Even if the time cops followed him this far they'd never know where he went next.

He was continuing where he'd left off.

He wanted to return to the moment he died and murder the Pines on the spot—or, better yet, warn himself ten minutes before it happened. But even the best time tape would struggle to target a temporal paradox as complicated as Weirdmageddon; and besides, Bill was self-aware enough to know if he tried to warn himself, he was at risk of being zapped before he convinced himself of his identity, and then he was really doomed. So he'd just have to focus on revenge.

He'd murder the Pines and anyone else in their stupid shack. He'd dig up the buried treasure Pine Tree and Shooting Star had buried in the woods and liquidate some of the gold. He'd fast-forward until the murder investigation was over and the shack was back on the market, buy it himself, repair the portal to the Nightmare Realm, and restart Weirdmageddon in his dead enemies' own home.

He could figure out how to get back in his real body and pop the stupid weirdness bubble around the town as he went. Minor details. For now, all he cared about was killing the two-faced twins who'd dared try to stop him.

And he couldn't wait to see the look in Stanford's eyes.

The cops said Time Baby had them patrolling Gravity Falls for six months after Bill's death. He set his time tape for February 25, 2013. He appeared in a suburban backyard, snatched a bedsheet drying on a clothesline and a couple safety pins from a nearby laundry basket, made himself a chiton tunic, and headed for the Mystery Shack.

####

In retrospect, he probably should have planned the murders a little more thoroughly.

####

June 2, 2013

Bill was put back in the cellar until the humans could Bill-proof the house—cutlery moved out of the kitchen, phones relocated where he couldn't reach them, dangerous chemicals locked away, etc. His cuffs and restraints were removed, he was handed a few granola bars and water bottles and awkwardly gifted a bucket that he received with an expression that suggested he wasn't quite sure what the humans expected him to use it for, and he was locked in.

And at last, everyone could get some sleep.

It was past five in the morning when Dipper and Mabel collapsed back in their beds. With time travel thrown in, they had been up for thirty hours with only an hour or two of napping. And yet, for all their exhaustion, when the first hint of morning grayness lightened the sky outside, both of them were still awake, staring at dust notes and the old wooden ceiling planks.

Mabel sighed heavily.

Dipper said, "You too?"

"Yeah. I guess it's the chocolate shake and pancakes. What's your excuse?"

"Bill ordered coffee for the table, and nobody told me I couldn't have it, so..."

Mabel laughed. "Evil chaos demon got you! You fell for his trap!"

"Oh nooo."

Neither of them needed to admit that it wasn't the caffeine keeping them awake.

"Hold on." Mabel got out of bed, scooted around Waddles—he took up more of the floor than he had last year—and trudged to her suitcase. She tossed half her clothes on the floor, and pulled out—

Dipper laughed weakly. "You brought those?"

"I thought we might need them. You know—being back here, reminded of everything."

Almost as soon as they'd gotten home last summer, Mabel had started knitting throw blankets depicting the anti-Bill zodiac that Ford had drawn. She gave the first to Dipper as his bar mitzvah gift. She kept the second herself. She mailed the other eight to the other members of the zodiac. (The therapist their parents made them see said self-expression through art was a great way to cope with difficult experiences.)

Ford had told them the zodiac drawing merely represented a list of people, like a chart with table seating arrangements. They knew the symbol itself didn't do anything. It held no magic, it couldn't protect them. Nevertheless, sleeping under his blanket had done more for Dipper's Bipper nightmares than any dream catcher ever could. Mabel thought wrapping up in it felt like a hug from their friends in Gravity Falls.

She handed Dipper a red blanket with the zodiac embroidered in dark green yarn, and pulled out her own rainbow blanket with black embroidery. Mabel wrapped hers around her head and shoulders like a huge hooded shawl and slid back in bed, her mind and dreams now properly shielded. Dipper stared at the face in the middle of the zodiac for a long moment, before he turned the blanket over so Bill's ever-watching eye could only see the dark surface of Dipper's bedsheet.

And then, at long last, they were safe enough to fall asleep.

####

Once the day's tourists were gone, Ford cracked open the cellar door, flung a wad of fabric down the stairs, and shut the door again. "All right," Stan shouted. "Solitary confinement's over. Put on some normal clothes and knock when you're done."

"It's about time!" Creaks and thuds drifted through the door as Bill climbed the stairs. "How long does it take to move a few knives to another room? I was starting to think you planned to leave me down here."

"We needed sleep! We were up all night!"

"How is that my problem? I never told you to sit up all night staring at me—"

After a few more minutes of back-and-forth grousing, Bill knocked on the cellar door to be unleashed. The shack household had scrounged together an XL yellow-beige pine tree t-shirt (surplus from the gift shop), a set of Soos's winter sweatpants (which Bill found too long and set aside), an elastic-waisted plain green skirt in case the sweats didn't fit (some old thing Abuelita never wore), a pair of old swim trunks (to compensate for the fact that nobody had the energy or motivation to go buy their prisoner underwear today), and mismatched flip-flops (from the Mystery Shack's lost-and-found).

The shack household had not scrounged together a broom to give to Bill, and yet when they opened the door, he was holding one, bristles pointed up, like a poorly-dressed witch waiting to go on an evening flight. The potential weapon was promptly confiscated, and Stan, Ford, and Soos escorted Bill around to the back of the shack. He stared out toward the woods as the door was opened for him, but it was impossible to tell whether he was looking for something specific or just getting one last glimpse of the sky before he was incarcerated indefinitely.

The moment Bill stepped inside, Abuelita was in front of him, shoving a hot plate of chicken and enchiladas in his chest. "Welcome. You are staying with us for a while, yes?"

Bill tried to take a step back, bumped into Soos, and automatically took the plate in both hands. He blinked at Abuelita, eyebrows raised in polite bafflement. "Yes?"

"Yes. Soos told me. You missed dinner." There was loose plastic wrap still half-covering the plate, which had been labeled in black marker: para Bill Cifra - NO TOCAR! "I saved you a plate."

"Oh yeah," Soos said, "Abuelita put that in the fridge for you before we ate last night. She's big on hospitality."

"Well!" Bill beamed. "At least somebody around here has some manners. Does this come with silverware, or—?"

"Here." Abuelita offered him a plastic orange baby spoon. "Soos says you do not get the good silverware. So you cannot kill people."

"Between you and me, I'd be more likely to stick a fork in the microwave than try to kill someone with it—but hey, I'mnot the warden." He tossed the plastic wrap on the floor and attempted to saw off a chunk of enchilada with the soft edge of the spoon.

"All right, show me what you've done with this place since I last saw it!" He wove past the humans to duck into the kitchen. "I see you finally got rid of that second stove! Really frees up the space in here, doesn't it! Too bad you kept the gas one. I didn't wanna say anything about this last year, but fix that slow gas leak, would you? If you want to get haunted by carbon monoxide demons, that's your business, but I owe a tokoloshe money."

Stan blinked. "The slow what?"

Ignoring them, Bill went on, "You're gonna have to do something about all this." He waved his baby spoon at the fridge and cabinet doors. "You don't want me to come ask for help every single time I need to eat."

"Actually, that might be preferable," Ford said. "It would ensure you can't tamper with our food when we aren't looking."

"You'll get sick of it," Bill said confidently.

He finally freed up a spoonful of enchilada, stuffed it in his mouth, and tore off a chunk of chicken with his teeth—and then stopped, staring down at the plate in amazement. With his mouth still full, Bill said, "Oh wow, this is delicious! You know, I haven't had a home cooked meal in centuries! And that nutty aftertaste? Mm! You're a daring chef, lady. I love it."

He spat his mouthful back onto the plate. "But unfortunately, I think I'm allergic to one of your ingredients!" He held the plate out to Abuelita, grinning widely. "Would you mind giving me a portion with less cyanide?"

Everyone stared at Abuelita.

She shrugged placidly. "It was worth a try." She took back the plate.

Bill licked the last of the poisoned food off his teeth and spat it on the kitchen floor. "Mil gracias, señorita Silloncito."

She gave the floor a displeased look as she passed to wash off the dish in the sink, but merely said, "Un placer."

Dubiously, Ford murmured, "Silloncito isn't Mrs. Ramirez's first name, is it?"

"Nope." Stan grinned. "While you were busy studying the Odyssey, I was in South America learning Spanish—you know, a language people actually speak."

"What does 'silloncito' mean?"

"I dunno."

Soos had been gaping at his grandmother since Bill said the word "cyanide." He finally managed to work his jaw enough to say, "Abuelita, what...?"

"Do not worry about it, mijo," Abuelita said sweetly, pulling out a mop.

"Did you just try to...?"

"We can talk later." Abuelita gestured to the door, where Bill was meandering out of the kitchen. "I clean now. You go with the others."

As Bill left, he called back, "Next time, I'm making my own plate! Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice..." He swept past the humans into the living room. "Hey, you finally got enough seating in here! This place is really starting to shed that 'lonely old bachelor' stench—ey, Stanley?"

"Watch it."

Where Stan's old recliner once sat, Abuelita had put her sofa with the pastel yellow floral print. Her blue armchair and Stan's recliner were lined up at a right angle to the sofa to form a seating area around the TV, which had been turned to face all the seats. Atop the decorative T-Rex skull sat a small vase with a few fresh flowers.

Soos dragged his distracted gaze away from the kitchen to point at the floral sofa. "You, uh... you can sleep on the sofa bed. It folds out. We're kind of out of other rooms. I'm in the master bedroom, Abuelita's in the study cuz she gets her own bathroom there, we made the parlor a guest room for the Pineses, the kids are in the attic... and that's pretty much all the bedrooms we've got, dude." Soos shrugged. "Me and Melody, we were talking about walling off the empty attic area to make a sick gaming room? I guess maybe we should think about making it another guest room—"

"Which Bill wouldn't be able to use," Ford said, "if it has a door. Besides, I doubt Bill will be here long enough for you to finish any large construction projects."

Airily, Bill said, "Think you'll figure out how to get rid of me that fast?" He didn't even look at Ford; he was busy taking off the sofa's cushions to inspect the foldout bed underneath. "Last time you tried it took you thirty years, and you're 0 for 4 murder attempts so far." Bill tried—unsuccessfully—to lift the folding bed out of the sofa.

Voice icy, Ford went on without acknowledging Bill. "And at any rate, I'd rather have him out in the open where we can all keep an eye on him."

Soos glanced back and forth between Ford and Bill as they shot verbal barbs at each other, his fingertips pressed together. "Oookay! So. Sofa bed it is. I like sofa beds! It feels kind of like camping, but without going outside."

"Bet I'm not allowed to start a campfire in the living room." Bill gave up on the sofa bed and looked around the room—and his face lit up like a child who'd just received a pirate ship-shaped birthday cake. "Hey! Is that me?" In his rush to cross the living room, he tripped over Abuelita's blue armchair, flopped flat on the floor, and got back up like nothing happened.

Where Ford had once hung his father's banner from the Royal Order of the Holy Mackerel, Soos had put up a new decoration: a knit tapestry depicting Bill Cipher, framed in apocalyptic lightning and hovering over a sea of fire...

... and encircled by the zodiac prophesied to defeat him.

Bill's smile dimmed. "Ah."

"Oh, hey! That's the blanket Mabel made me." Soos stood next to Bill, admiring the zodiac blanket. "Yeah, she made us all blankets to commemorate our epic battle and everything? She called us up to ask how we wanted them customized and stuff. I suggested the flames and the lightning bolts! Thought they'd look rad. Heh. It's—it's pretty cool, right?"

Bill's gaze slowly traced the confining ring of symbols; and then met the gaze of his own, true, proper face. And he turned away to face Soos and forced his smile wider. "Question Mark, I like your sense of decor."

"Ha—wait, seriously?"

"Heck, if I'd commissioned a portrait myself, I'd have requested the same! Remind me to show you a tapestry the Northwests have been keeping of me, I think you'd appreciate it!"

"Oh." Soos rubbed the back of his neck. "Huh. You know, I didn't think you'd think cool things are cool. Kinda."

"You kidding?! Fire and lightning! I love it! Like a party with natural pyrotechnics! It's nature's way of trying to unleash a bit of anarchy on this bleak little world!"

"Uh..." Soos quickly glanced toward the Pines in a silent plea for help with this conversation, then looked back at Bill. "Yeah, totally dude! It's like... got that boom factor, you know?"

"Boom factor! Ha! You're all right, Questiony." Bill turned his back on the zodiac. "So, what have you done with the rest of this dump!"

Soos stood rooted to the spot until Bill left the room.

He looked at Stan and Ford. "Do you think Bill, like... knows my name?"

Ford shrugged and made a so-so gesture.

Soos nodded. "Okay." He pulled out a chair at the living room table. "You guys wanna go ahead without me? I think I'm gonna... sit here. And process the fact that Abuelita is an attempted murderer."

####

On Bill's first proper night in the Mystery Shack, he woke in the middle of the night, gasping for air so loudly it sounded like a reverse scream.

Waking didn't improve things.

He was back in the room where he'd died, no light but the eerie blue of invisible flames licking up the walls, his vision framed by golden filaments spilling out of his head. He rolled over and heaved on the floor—and between his stomach's convulsions he made direct eye contact with an axolotl, cold, serene, staring dispassionately at him from an illuminated fish tank—and past the axolotl, he saw an image of himself trapped flat on the wall, surrounded by a ring of his enemies, fire lapping at his heels. And it was just like dying again, he was powerless, he could see his body coming apart in his peripheral vision, he couldn't even float, pinned to the ground by gravity—

He had to claw at his skin until this human body's uncomfortable alienness overrode the memory of his gold exoskeleton shattering.

The next morning, the household found no signs of Bill in the living room except for a puddle of dried puke.

The sofa bed's mattress had been dragged halfway up the stairs to the attic, and then abandoned at the landing where the stairs turned a right angle.

They found Bill in the attic, laying on the floor atop a makeshift bed he'd assembled out of sofa cushions. He was curled up facing the wall beneath the seating alcove where, just a few months ago, there had been a window of his face.

####

#bill cipher #human bill cipher #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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darklordazalin · 17 days

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Azalin Reviews: Darklord Jacqueline Renier

Domain: Richemulot Domain Formation: 694 BC Power Level: 💀💀💀⚫⚫ Sources: Ravenloft (3e), Secrets of the Dread Realms (3e), Domains and Denizens (2e), Realm of Terror (2e), Domains of Dread (2e), Gazetteer III (3e).

Most Darklords are pulled into the Mists and “gifted” a land to rule (that is also designed to torment them) after committing an act of so-called evil. Others gain such titles through the act of killing another Darklord. Why one would want eternal torment, I cannot say. Self hate? Inability to recognize where they truly are? Oh and if you are thinking of doing the same, this ploy doesn't always work. Most Darklords simply come back after they are “destroyed” as even our tormentors will not let death free us from them.

Before Jacqueline Renier became the Darklord of Richemulot, her grandfather Claude Renier was Darklord. The Renier family was chased into the Mists by a group of monster hunters and their hounds when Jacqueline was a child. Most Darklords rarely remember much, if anything, of the land they came from, our tormentors erase such things from their minds. One must not believe a lying rat when they state they remember something when all evidence points to the contrary.

The Reniers fled into the sewers and given the choice between death and a vault filled with a mysterious Mist, they chose the Mist and Falkovnia. Death may have been the kinder option than dealing with Drakov...The Reniers lived in the sewers of Silbervas in Falkovnia for a number of years before Vlad grew tired of their antics and ran them out of his Domain and into the Mists once more. This indicates that Vlad was successful in defeating the Reniers. Now that is a family history I’m sure Lady Jacqueline doesn't wish you to know of.

The Mists created Richemulot, which is mostly made of river valleys and untamed forests with the majority of its populace living in the three large cities. There is no known history of what happened in Richemulot prior to the Reniers settling there. The cities themselves were said to be empty when they arrived and like true scavengers, instead of questioning this oddity, the people merely accepted it and took up whatever residence they wished. To this day, only about a third of the buildings in each city are occupied by humanity, the rest lie abandoned and given over to decay and the infestation of rats.

Claude ruled through fear and manipulation, bidding his rivals and relatives (often these were the same) against one another. Jacqueline and her twin sister, Louise, were his protegees and he was always encouraging competition between the two for his affection and praise. That is until Jacqueline had enough of it and had a servant send him a drink laced with lye. Each wererat in Richemulot has their own unique 'allergin' and lye was Claude's. Not that I would advise anyone to consume lye in the first place...

Jacqueline ensured she was there as her grandfather drank the poison so she could gloat as he died. But the poison wasn’t enough for her and she also pushed him through a window where he fell through the roof of the family kennel and was half-consumed by hounds before his body was retrieved. Considering the poison killed him before he hit the ground, this was quite unnecessary and makes it far more obvious to even the casual observer who was responsible for Claude’s death.

Jacqueline is just as manipulative and cunning as her grandfather was, ruling the land through secrets and bringing down her opposition through rumors and misinformation. It is said the nobility trade more in secrets than coin in Richemulot and that a commoner may gain status by simply hearing the right rumor and knowing how to weld it.

Instead of pitting her family against one another, Jacqueline encourages them to work together, though she herself kills anyone that appears to be working against her. Only her twin sister is the exception to this. Curious. Does Jacqueline have some form of misguided affection for her sister? Is this why she has all of Louise’s lovers and friends killed? Regardless of the reasoning, it is abundantly clear that Jacqueline does not take competition for her affections well.

She is patriotic and wishes to bring prosperity to her Domain. Of course, the prosperity she strives for would result in the end of humanity, but she does try. Though there’s no formal militia in Richemulot, she expects all of her people to take up arms to defend the realm. So, her defense is the equivalent of untrained peasants with pitchforks. Drakov’s ever-failing attempts at conquering her Domain must be particularly crushing for the little mercenary. Still, he seems to have created enough stir in Richemulot to encourage Jacqueline to sign the Treaty of Four Towers with Borca, Dementlieu, and Mordent in defence against the war-hungry, impaling-loving idiot.

Jacqueline’s curse is to only appear in her rat form to those she loves. A fact she discovered when she fell in love with the nobleman Henri DuBois. She attempted to inflict him with her lycanthropy but he managed to not only escape that fate, but Richemulot as well. Jacqueline, a word to the wise, if one cannot accept you in your rat form, are they really worth all this pinning and crippling monophobia?

Jacqueline is a formidable combatant, but only when she is surrounded by her allies. She can speak with rats, take mist form like a vampire, and climb along almost any surface. However, when she is alone, her monophobia cripples her to a point where she can easily be defeated.

Considering the majority of her people do not know of her wererat affliction, her mastery of manipulation and control, and easy defeat of Claude; Jacqueline is not a Darklord to be underestimated. Though, if one learns her fears she can be easily taken out by a well-placed assassin. I will grant her three skulls.

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

Domain: Richemulot Domain Formation: Unspecified (694 BC older editions) Power Level: 💀💀⚫⚫⚫ Sources: Van Richten’s Guide to Ravenloft (5e)

The “good” Doctor’s new guide indicates that Jacqueline is not a natural born wererat, but was inflicted with the curse instead. Does this mean one could simply cast ‘Remove Curse’ upon her person to effectively neutralize her? Or any of her family members seeing as she changed all of them herself? Our Tormentors rarely make things that easy, but a theory I encourage any with such abilities to try.

Born into the Renier noble family, Jacqueline analyzed the changes in her city as the commoners became more wealthy. To Jacqueline this was viewed as a threat to her family’s position. Would a wealthy class of commoners abide by the rules of nobility if they have no need of them? And though Jacqueline shared her concerns with her family, the other Reniers ignored them, content with these inevitable changes.

Without her family’s assistance, Jacqueline was left to her own machinations. This eventually led her to discover a secret society of esteemed families that called themselves the Trueblood Council…which ended up being made of a bunch of filthy commoner wererats.

She was disgusted to find this filth in place of what she imagined as elite masterminds. Given the amount of gold she spent on gaining membership, perhaps she should have done a bit more research on them? Was it really THAT surprising they ended up being wererats considering their secret meeting location was the sewers? Regardless as she cursed and spit upon them, they made her into a wererat.

Jacqueline easily adapted to her life as a wererat and swiftly infected all of the Reniers. Except for her twin sister, Louise, who resisted. For her insolence, Louise was disfigured and cast out. In order to gain control of the city, Jacqueline unified the wererats and together they created the Gnawing Plague. However, instead of becoming the savior to the people when they begged for her assistance, she let them die, finding her hatred of the commoners replaced with a hatred for all non-wererats. Who exactly are you ruling over if everyone is dead? Well, no one is the answer and the Mists took her after the last person in Richemulot died.

Now Jacqueline rules half-empty cities in the land of Richemulot, but can only maintain her rule by controlled releases of the Gnawing Plague in order to suppress those that would rise up against her. Given the apparently disposable armies of rats, wererats, and animated armor stuffed with rats she has control over, this seems an unnecessary tactic. Not to mention the populace cannot be all that intelligent given their lack of awareness of Reniers affliction. Jacqueline wears a shawl of rats, rat shoes, and a rat bracelet. Her love of rats could not be more apparent and the rats are known to be the cause of the plague.

No wonder she has no love of ruling over her idiotic populace. I doubt they pose any real challenge for her. Her torments are rather weak compared to other Darklords. She dislikes ruling, misses decadence yet causes such things to be nonexistent with her plagues and has to keep on creating plagues? I would take those anyday over what I have to endure.

Jacqueline can control and communicate any rat in her Domain and mostly uses them as spies. Otherwise, she is an inflicted wererat who has a love for creating plagues. Considering her control would easily break if the labs that created said plagues were destroyed, I consider this version of Jackie to be less powerful than in previous versions. 2.5 Skulls.

#ravenloft #azalin rex #darklordreviews #dnd #jacqueline renier #richemulot #wererat

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consularmain · 7 months

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Alliance Commander Ask Game

THE WAY I SCREAMED WHEN I FOUND THIS IN MY DRAFTS. I was tagged a very long time ago by @sullustangin to do this and I completely forgot

1) Who’s your Alliance Commander? What class are they? Alignment? Random other facts you wanna share?

My Jedi Knight is my canonical Commander for my legacy. Her name is Minerva and she’s been through a lot of changes since I started playing her in 2018. She is a Guardian tank with a Shadow secondary class. She’s trapped at Light 5 because of how the old alignment system worked, but I headcanon she’s closer to Light Three. She has one of the most detailed backstories I've ever made for a character and I'm so proud of her :') She's like my child lol

2) What’s a reason or two you like that this character is your Commander? Minerva is not and never wanted to be a leader in any way and I live for that kind of inner conflict. Plus the expansions feel very natural with the Knight as the Commander imo.

3) What’s a reason or two you don’t like about them being Commander? I can’t think of anything other than I wish the writers would let her get some rest. Give me a cutscene where she's just enjoying being with her friends and boyfriend pls

4) Why did this character of all your OCs become Commander? Like I said earlier, it felt natural for Minerva to continue her fight against Vitiate and she was also the first character I got to endgame before Onslaught came out so she's just fixed as the Commander in my mind.

5) Who did they side with? Did they stay loyal or go saboteur? Or maybe you headcanon they defect properly? Minerva decided to side with the Republic, but she kept the Alliance separate and declined the offer to become a member of the Order again. She believes in the Republic but she hasn’t been a Jedi for a long time – even before she was put in the carbonite. And it would be incredibly inappropriate given a new “attachment” in her life.

6) Are there any NPC’s from the class stories you’d like to see/HC join the Alliance? Ex: Master Timmns, Ardun Kothe, Watcher One, etc. Lord. PRAVEN. In my hc, he was on Ossus during kotfe/kotet and joins the Alliance after Onslaught. He's Minerva's bestie and the writers can't take this away from me.

7) How’s your OC feeling about the current Malgus situation? She's over it, honestly. She is so tired of people coming back from the dead.

8) Are any of your other OC’s part of the Alliance? If yes what do they do for the Alliance? Do they get along with your Commander?

My Chiss trooper, Jame Harper, is Minerva's cousin but they're closer to sisters. Harper had given up hope she was still alive and attacked Zakuul to avenge her. Once she joins the Alliance, Harper is responsible for training new recruits and strategizing for the big battles.

After the incident on Dromund Kaas, Acina sent her Wrath to Odessen to show the Empire’s support. Tegan and Minerva’s old rivalry picked up right where it left off but now that they're on the same side, they actually start to respect each other. They become frenemies but it doesn't last long.

Freya and her Clan join Torian on Odessen and are responsible for keeping the peace between Imperial and Republic personnel. Freya knows Minerva doesn't have much family so she takes on an almost motherly role, fussing over her and making sure she takes care of herself.

My Smuggler, Lyall, is Minerva's eyes and ears in the Outer Rim. He's a friend to the Alliance, not an actual member, but he appreciates what they're trying to do. He and Minerva share a history so it's no big deal for him to help out on the occasional mission.

9) How does your OC feel about Odessen? (Bonus: how do you feel about it) Despite all the craziness around her, Minerva feels at peace on Odessen - something she's not felt in a long time. She loves the wild forests and the endless lakes and rivers. It feels like home. She's never felt that way about anywhere before, not even the Jedi Order. I personally love Odessen. I wish there was a stronghold on Odessen so I could decorate it to Minerva's tastes.

10) How does your Commander feel about being the Commander? To say Minerva has a complicated relationship with it would be an understatement. Some days, it's great. She's doing more for the galaxy than she ever could as a Jedi. But sometimes she realizes just how many lives will be effected by her decisions and she feels trapped. She doesn’t feel anyone should ever have so much power. But she's lucky to have such a strong support system behind her and they make it bearable.

11) Favorite place in the Alliance base? Minerva's favorite is the little pool at the base of the statue in the Force Enclave. She meditates for hours in the sunlight coming in through the crack in the ceiling. As for mine, it has to be the war room. I love seeing my companions just vibing with each other.

12) Favorite mission in KotFE? Definitely visiting the old world on Zakuul with Senya. I wish we got to see more of it or at least get a Zakuulan stronghold but I doubt the story will ever bring us back to Zakuul :(

13) Favorite mission in KotET? The palace mission, just because it's where we get Arcann lmao

14) Least favorite mission in either? Why? The walker missions are brutal. Except for the one on Iokath. That one is so much fun lol

15) Is your Commander successful because they’re skilled? Or are they perhaps just really lucky? Minerva has worked hard to hone her body and mind into a weapon, but she also believes the Force is on her side as long as she listens to it. To her, luck doesn't exist.

16) From our OC’s point of view, SoR -> KotET wasn’t a fun experience, did they develop any fears as a result? A lot of her fears were realized. She was abandoned by the people she trusted and the Jedi Order, the only constant in her life, was practically wiped out. Valkorion was once again in her head and the fear of him taking over at any given moment made her distance herself from the people around her in order to protect them. It was the loneliest period of her life.

She also has a fear of public speaking so she hates it when she has to give speeches to encourage people.

17) AU time! If your Commander wasn’t Commander, which of your other OCs would have likely taken their place? Harper has a habit of falling into positions of leadership despite her loner attitude. I can see her somehow accidentally becoming Commander in Minerva's place because no one else stepped up.

18) Who’s someone your Commander hopes they never have to deal with again?

19) Does your Commander hold on to/still use any titles they earned before KotET? Minerva's begun to let go of her old life but she doesn't mind being called "Master" or "Battlemaster" by other Jedi. She earned those titles so it's a sign of respect for her.

20) Share something, anything at all, you want about your Commander that you’ve not really gotten the chance to share before but really want to. Minerva loves trashy entertainment. Holovids, shows, books - it doesn't matter, she loves it all. It's antithesis to everything she was used to growing up that she found it so compelling. She's also a sucker for those romance books you see in line at the grocery store.

#swtor #the old republic #jedi knight #oc: minerva #alliance commander ask game

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meabh-mcinness · 1 year

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Love Lost

The Naberius's were the clan of unwaveringly loyal guard dogs. Each and every member was raised with the strictest guidelines and expectancies, and those who failed were disgraced. The latest members were the elder brother Narnia and the younger brother Kalego. Both excelled and will excel at every challenge thrown their way, until Narnia didn't. One mistake led to a life of regret and a love lost.

Warnings of light gore descriptions and raw meat consumption! Oh, and Angst! With the latest chapter reveal, I really wanted to come up with a reason on why Narnia would recommend Atori and Shiida to Babyls, basically any reason other than him returning to origins. Also posted on AO3 and Wattpad!

A heavy sigh left full lips as pale, thin hands ran themselves through long black hair. He was tempted to rip it all out in his stress, but knew that it would do no good in the end. He couldn't believe he was doing this. Going against everything he was raised to do, sacrificing not only his pride and beliefs, but who knew how many lives along the way.

Was it worth it?

He honestly didn't know anymore. Before, he would have said no, no matter how much he loved anyone, he would never abandon his post as a loyal Naberius guard dog. No matter how much he disagreed with his family ways, he recognized and even enjoyed the mysteries and jobs that came his way as the Border Patrol's Special Security Chief.

But then he met them.

A real life human from the other realm. He'd known of their existence, of course. You couldn't be as high ranked as him in the Border Patrols system and not know of them, but he'd never met one. Realm crossings were incredibly rare, and despite his decades of service, he'd never seen a real one until they had come along.

His claws flexed at the thought of them again. He could see them now even, with their soft skin, glittering eyes and bright smile. It was like they had been designed to lure him in and lower his guard, only to snatch his heart and take it for their own. Inadvertently crushing it in the end, when... When they were ripped from his side and forced to leave.

That had been the worst day of his life.

The best day was a tie, between Kalego being born and meeting them for the first time. He could remember it so clearly.

He had been relatively new to his job at the time. Only three decades in and still getting the hang of all the different procedures for the hundreds of different kinds of cases, when Henry had pulled him aside to go on a raid. A quick raid and small paperwork, and then they could both go home. It had sounded rather promising, after all there was an Opera show that was supposed to on in an hour along with a bottle of nice wine chilling.

What should have been a relatively simple case of raid and detain, however, quickly turned more extreme when it was discovered the criminal in question had a living, breathing human hidden in his abode.

Undoubtedly, both Henry and him had been shocked when their head innocently popped up from a cauldron stacked in a far corner. Tears strolling down their face faster than any river could run, but with blood stains around their mouth and splattered across their face. At first, they didn't realize anything was different about them, just assumed that they were an intended victim or an accomplice. Judging by the torn flesh on the criminal, however, Narnia was inclined to believe the former.

After all, they only had the head to go by at first, and plenty of demons didn't have horns. One of little Kalego's allies was a prime example, the Balam's hadn't ever had horns as far as anyone knew.

With Henry playing with the perpetrator (the demon often used these cases to let off steam Narnia learned over time), he had walked over to this new demon, curious but careful. After all, this other being could still be a helper rather than a victim. Reaching out one of his own thin hands towards them, he could only blink as they flinched harshly and backed as far as they could in the tiny space. Tears still flowed, but they bared their teeth in a show of attempting to be fierce. With a raised eyebrow, he gave them a quick glance over, keeping his hand out calmly.

Despite being new, he had seen plenty of cases of demons reverting to base instincts in order to survive in dangerous situations. As long as this one hadn't returned to origins, they should quickly realize he meant no harm, or at least grow bored with posturing and either calm down or attempt to fight. Though, he had to wonder at why they hadn't backed down at the shiny Chet badge on his uniform or from the feel of his power leaking.

Except they didn't do either. They stayed in the same position, never wavering in keeping their teeth bared, muscles tensed, and eyes focused on him. Whenever Henry or his intended catch made a noise, they tensed slightly more and their eyes would twitch, as if stopping themselves from glancing at the aforementioned noise. Soon enough, when Narnia had given up with letting them move at their pace, he heard a particularly loud crack and yowl from the fight. It seemed Henry was growing bored with the brawl, but that hadn't been what caught his attention. The being in front of him had also clearly heard it with the way their ears had twitched.

Their very small, rounded ears.

Now that Narnia did another more careful once over, he noticed that their teeth while bared only had four very tiny canines, the rest rather blunt. And the hands that were braced lightly along the back of the cauldron rim (likely to prepare to lift their body out quickly at any moment) held no claws. At least he had never seen such thin, blunt claws before. There were no tails or horns, no spikes or fur, no scales or feathers in sight either. It was almost as if they weren't a demon, but rather a...

Oh. Oh, no.

He did not want to deal with this or the paperwork it would later involve. He could already feel the headache blooming and could kiss his relaxing evening goodbye. Unlike many of his comrades, he held no interest in the human race. As far as Narnia was concerned, they existed and belonged in their own world, and that was it. No other knowledge needed beyond that they were weak and very delicious according to the school song. Now, however, he was slightly wishing he had listened slightly when he overheard the little Balam kid going on one of his imaginary being rants.

After all, no one mentioned in any of his briefs or trainings on how to capture said rogue humans that stumbled into their world. Frantically, he racked his brain for any stray info he could find. Anything that the tiny gargoyle had said would be helpful right now. A peaceful world, one where there was no danger. At least non-comparable to the Netherworld, which would explain the lack of common defenses found here in demon-folk. Did they enjoy touch? No, that was a solid Balam thing, he was sure.

Well, he supposed it wouldn't hurt to try petting them, it could very well calm them down. Naberius's were far too proud to admit it, but a good scalp massage when they were alone was rather nice. Never mind their bonded Cerberions who would do anything for a good scratch, especially those middle heads, where the legs just couldn't seem to reach well.

Surely, humans would feel the same? Slowly, he moved his outstretched hand closer towards the human, aiming for the top of their head, much like he would his Cerberion or praising Kalego. The closer he got, though, the louder a rumbling sound seemed to reverberate from the creature before him. By the time he registered it as the human growling, it was too late. He'd gotten too close, and all of a sudden there was a mouth where his fingers were supposed to be and hands grasping onto his arm for dear life.

He suppressed a yowl from tearing from his throat. He would never hear the end of it if others ever found out a mere human made Narnia Naberius yelp like some pup! He quickly grabbed the back of the neck of the human with his other hand, aiming for the fold of skin that all demons had, only to find nothing but smooth skin. Seriously!? Of all the things for their species not to share!

What happened to humans being peaceful and weak! This one seemed to have the same jaw strength of a panther-rat, only with far more pain due to the blunt teeth tearing his skin rather than the neat slicing of sharp fangs. Desperately, his hand traveled up and forward slightly and gripped where he thought the jawbone started. Feeling his prize, he slowly massaged the area in hopes that it was more like his Cerberion's jaw and that they would be forcibly relaxed into letting him go.

And in a way it seemed to. They slowly relaxed the pressure, but never let go entirely. What Narnia didn't know at the time was that they were slowly being discouraged at the fact he had barely even moved beyond his initial hand movement at their neck. The other one had yelped and screamed as much as a hyena seemed to laugh, leaping back, tearing their own flesh from themselves, leaving a massive chunk in their mouth. This one gave them nothing but a splurge of blood, that later they would be very disgusted with themselves for enjoying. The warm liquid soothing their parched throat.

While this specific human leaned neither one way nor the other in their carnivorous or herbivorous ways, a true omnivore; they had to admit, that after days of not daring to eat anything in this new world, the combined flesh and blood tasted rather good at that moment. With an added bonus of keeping this creature obviously intending harm away from them. The lack of food plus the sudden onslaught of taste of something possibly edible had sent the usual harmonious human into a rather feral state.

Narnia hadn't stumbled across a helpless being, he had stumbled across a human who was hungry. A very dangerous thing indeed, he learned. Later, he would be told it was a mood called "hangry" and that one should never get in the way of a hangry human. Narnia had never agreed to something so fast in his life, unconsciously rubbing at the deep scars that still graced his hand to that day.

Now, though, he would move the hand that was free up, towards the top of the human's head, and slowly rubbed it downwards in a petting motion. The being tensed up slightly, teeth crushing down just a little bit more, causing him to wince, but didn't actively stop him. Feeling emboldened, he repeated the motion, over and over again. Slowly, over the next couple of minutes, the human relaxed enough to almost remove their teeth entirely.

Just a little more and he'd be free, was what he thought, until he noticed that the head he was petting was shaking. No, not just the head, he observed looking them over. It was their entire body that was quivering, at first he was confused. Had he accidentally broken them? Henry would be quite crossed if so, humans were supposed to be returned unharmed to prevent possible exposure. Then again, humans were also supposed to be weak things needing protection, not feral biting machines, perhaps this one was already broken?

Suddenly he felt water hit his hand, breaking him out of his thoughts. Yes that was definitely water mixing with his blood. It took him a second to realize that the human was crying again. The discovery left him stunned, he was the one that had been ravaged into and yet they were the ones crying! Yes, this human was without doubt broken!

However, the sight of it also made him incredibly unsure of himself. Had this been some other demon he would have destroyed them within an inch of their life before maybe dumping them off with the nearest healers for daring to do such a thing, and yet the more he looked the more he noticed a distinct lack of any real vexation and a distinct want of wiping away the tears and making them feel better.

Mentally he shook his head, why was he feeling this way? There was a lot of things about humans lost to the past, was this unusual desire to protect them one of those? But if that was the case why were there so many stories about eating said humans? Unless, he glanced down again at where his hand seemed to meld with their mouth. Perhaps the stories got it backwards and humans actually ate demons, using false weaknesses to lower their guards? That... was a rather terrifying impossible thought that he was going to stop in it's tracks.

'Focus Narnia!' he scolded himself. It didn't matter how he or any past demon had felt. Right now he had a very misplaced crying human attached to him and he could deftly hear Henry summoning the cuffing spell in the background. If nothing else he at least had to get them off of his hand in order to save some sort of dignity.

Slowly he moved his free hand til it was under their jaw and gently placed the tip of his thumb and first finger claws into their mouth on either side of his other hand and carefully pried their jaw open. They let go without further fuss, tears still pouring and a slight sniffle to their breathing now. Now in possession of his own hand again he gave in a once over and winced at the damage. They had certainly did a number on him, and if they had gone much further he probably wouldn't have any fingers at all anymore. (If anyone later on had questioned when he started to fall in love, it would probably be this moment he pointed to. Anyone who could stand up to a being so much more powerful than them and inflict lasting damage was a keeper in his book).

Narnia deftly gave a healing spell over his hand to fix most of the damage, he was no Buer but even he should be able to ensure no scaring. Only he didn't. The bites healed certainly, but there were scars in the shape and size of each tooth belonging to the human. Perhaps he was more out sorts than he realized. No matter, a simple glamour charm when around others should be enough so he wasn't to terribly concerned, until he realized it was his left hand that had been gored. Well, that explained a few fair things.

'A marriage bite,' his mind supplied. Had this been any other circumstance at least, but it wasn't and here he stood with a quite possibly broken crying human that had claimed him, however unintentional, and the thudding steps of his supervisor coming from behind him.

He felt the growl push to leave his lips but pushed it down at the last possible moment, instead opting to quickly swing the human into his arms, purposefully hiding his left hand under the ripped remains of the oversized top they were wearing. Marriage bites were sacred, done only when two, or more, demons were absolutely certain they would take no others. Unlike the the easily breakable marriages that humans held, marriage bites were permanent and infused into the demons very being. In ancient times this would be how alliances were made concrete, an arranged marriage or two and suddenly the two families were then one, ending most conflicts. It didn't magically make the parties fall in love, but it did impart feelings to ensure their other was at least safe and happy.

Narnia would have to do everything in his power to hide this from absolutely everyone, especially his family. Luckily the bond was incomplete without his mark on them, therefor making the feelings small and inconsequential. He would see the end of his bond through by personally shoving them through the portal! Mind made up, he turned around to face Henry with his catch.

If only it had been that easy.

The only ones with the strength to make a portal were those of Chet rank and up, however the supposed only ones with the knowledge of how to open said portal were the Three Greats. Of the three only Sullivan was available, the other two somehow both out on Evil Cycles, but he supposedly didn't know it off the top of his head. He only had to check his libraries he had said, should only take a couple hours at the least, maybe a couple weeks at the absolute most. The deal was struck and I was placed in charge of the human until then.

"Naberius's are spectacular guard dogs are they not? So who better to protect them until we get them home again!" Sullivan had cheered happily, before skipping on his way out. And so Narnia ended up taking the human home with him, when it became clear Sullivan was not coming back that night. Got them cleaned and fed (and in that moment Narnia both discovered the power of human consummation and mourned his wallet's future) before giving them the spare room to sleep in.

After the first couple days of they skirted around each other cautiously, both wary of the sudden new roommate situation, only made more awkward when it was clear neither could speak the other's language. When Sullivan stopped by Narnia barely withheld his shout of joy, watching the human was slightly fascinating but he was mostly bored having been sent nothing but paperwork to do in his forced absence from the workplace.

The shout of joy was quickly replaced with near tears of frustration when Sullivan declared he had not found the ritual and was merely stopping by because he had found another spell that he thought would be prevalent at the moment. Narnia couldn't help the confused head twitch at Sullivan's words, another prevalent spell? What was more important then finding the portal ritual to send the little beast back before it ate him out of house and home!

A translator spell. Sullivan had found a translator spell and thought it would be nice for him and the human to be able to chat properly until they could leave, especially since Narnia's absence would be noticed soon. This way the human could entertain themselves while Narnia could go back to work like everything was fine.

Narnia briefly wondered if he was strong enough to be able to strangle Sullivan for even a second before the Tet killed him.

From there it had only been a hellball effect. Being able to talk meant being able to learn beyond noticing basic observations. It meant learning each other's names. It meant being able to learn about likes and dislikes, loves and fears. And once they established a routine, a couple of weeks turned to a couple of months, and a couple of months became a couple of years it became clear that Sullivan never intended to find the portal and Henry and the rest of the Border Patrol forgot his little human's existence. It meant they were free to fall in love and whisper promises of forever in the dead of night with only the two moons and a matching set of bites as their witnesses.

Looking back Narnia now wished he had gone through attacking Sullivan, if for no other reason than to not have to feel this pain of utter loss.

All it had taken was one surprise home visit from Henry for him to recognize the human who had meant to have left years ago. Had Henry not been promoted to the Thirteen Crowns and got the other two Greats on his side before talking to Sullivan he probably could have kept them years more.

When it came time to let them go, he did as he promised himself years ago and sent them through the portal himself, once their mind was cleansed of everything they shared. And when the portal closed forever he begged Sullivan to wipe his own memories. A guard dog was no good when it was busy mourning it's missing parts, and he had no desire to live like Amduscious Poro, so crushed by their love for Derkila that to this day, centuries later they still looked.

Sullivan had tried to talk him out of it of course, with feelings that deep attached the spell was likely not to hold, but he had remained steadfast. After all it was his mind to do with what he willed, and they would never want to see him suffer for centuries just because of them, and the only way to not mourn was to forget. Was he being cowardly? Perhaps, but it was done in the end.

And so he spent the next several decades with no memories of any humans in his presence at all. Or why he felt the urge to crack a bottle of wine to celebrate on a specific day, or to curl in a ball and cry until he shriveled up from lack of water on a different specific day. Or why there was this random flower bed by his door beyond thinking it could be more welcoming, or where these extra glasses came from that he just couldn't bare to throw away.

When Sullivan was called in for a supposed claim from Baal that he had a trapped human, it tingled something in him, loosened things just enough.

It wasn't until one day when he was investigating the cause of the summoning's that destroyed Walter Park that he saw him though. The supposed grandson of Sullivan's that had appeared out of nowhere. He was on a float, surrounded by what appeared to be other students and... my was that little Kalego and his allies that he swears aren't his lovers? He certainly never expected to seem them here but was more than happy to have this little piece of blackmail up his sleeve.

Drawing his attention back in was Iruma however, something about him seemed off, until it slowly came together when a gust of wind blew his hair back, briefly exposing small, rounded ears. Like...

Like theirs.

And suddenly the spell shattered and he remembered. Remembered from the first contact, to the first kiss, all the way till the last time he touched them. Everything he had sealed away, exposed. He felt like he had been struck by the Demon King himself and had to take off without notifying anyone or else he'd lose all semblance of himself.

Or attack Henry for destroying his life, unintentional as it was. Or worse Sullivan.

He didn't blame Henry, not really. He had only done his job much as Narnia would have in his horns. And it wasn't Sullivan's fault that Narnia had been carelessly caught with his human and Sullivan had not. Still there was a deep rooted anger that burned through his veins at watching everyone get together with their families. A family he would never have now.

And it was in this mindset that Baal first came up to him. A favor for a favor he'd called it. Blackmail with a promise of a prize if successful was more like it. Apparently back when Sullivan had been brought it Baal had noticed his slight twinge at the mention at the mention of humans and done some digging. Digging that turned up the past case of his human, including how long it had taken them to be properly returned. It had only taken a few educated jumps from there and now Narnia was here with a choice to make.

Go to Henry and Sullivan with what he knew and have his past ripped back to the present destroying everything he and his family had built or give in the and listen to Baal's demands and have his precious lover back at the expense of possibly other lives.

Naberius's were the clan of unwavering loyalty, and he knew with whom his loyalties lay.

'I'm so sorry.'

His pen was placed to paper as he wrote,

"I, Naberius Narnia, hereby recommend both Atori Arachne and Shiida..."

Not sure how well I did with the angst, but I tried my best. *shrugs* I hope you enjoyed it regardless and maybe if wanted I can make a happier part two in the future.

#mairimashita! iruma kun #mairuma #mairimashita manga #mairimashita spoilers #mairimashita iruma kun #naberius narnia #iruma kun manga #welcome to demon school! iruma kun #welcome to demon school iruma kun #welcome to demon school #x reader

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lizhly-writes · 10 months

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so. i have been contemplating my dumb little not-cnovel.

one common romance trope that we see all the time is the CPR trope, which makes sense! you get to force the saved to see the savior in a more positive light, not to mention establishing some kind of life debt, if you’re into that.

some cnovels would be into that. there is this idea of repaying “life-saving grace”. with your body or something. especially if you’re reading historical fantasy and someone’s virtue is ruined by the act of being embraced by someone of the opposite gender in public, AKA being hauled out of a river because you’re drowning. you know.

we ALSO get to force them to kiss! it’s one of the two methods of saving a life that i can think of that, of the top of my head, that require beyond platonic contact. this lets you to force your romantic leads into some form of intimacy, far before than they would naturally do so. sort of like a little shortcut. so you now have two things (maybe even three things!) for the price of one trope! what a deal! what a steal!

now, i will take a moment to say this is not necessarily TRUE, since i believe mouth-to-mouth resuscitation is NOT the recommended action for the casual bystander — chest compressions are preferred! — and even if you DO go for it, the process is RATHER LESS ENJOYABLE THAN A KISS. but narratively, it’s all very touching and romantic, especially if you don’t describe the rib breaking or sputtering or whatever other messy things are going on. especially if you put focus on The Sacred First Kiss, which may or may not be a factor, depending on your preference.

my POINT. is that you can do a lot of things with it for the development of a relationship. i’m not sure if i’m a fan EXACTLY, because i generally see this kind of thing coming and i can get a liiiittle exasperated, but it is a common trope and it is a common trope for a REASON.

which is why i’m going to figure out a way to shove it in my dumb little not-cnovel, because i am actively attempting to shove as many stereotypical tropes and character archetypes as i can possibly manage.

and I AM HERE because an image has popped into my mind and i need to talk about it with SOMEBODY.

fun fact: out of my main four guys, our mc guy is the only one who is first aid certified. he's the only one of them who knows how to properly do CPR. he has, after a long childhood of agreeably patching up his childhood best friend/fiancee/whatever you want to call her, Become The Medic.

meaning he is the one who gets to enact the kiss of life upon people.

the image i have is that they all nearly fucking drown on some rich person boat ride and my boy is the one who gasps, heaving from the wreckage, soggy and unhappy but also entirely conscious, which cannot be said about his three companions.

he takes one look at this scene. there is only one person who can do CPR and that person is him. the genre-savvy-ness kicks in, and he goes "no. no, are you fucking kidding me."

he knows he lives in a romance novel. he knows exactly what i'm making him do, and that is: pseudo-makeout with his fiancee (sure, okay, whatever), his best friend (aaaaaaahhhhhhhh), annnnd the person his fiancee is fated to have an affair with and that he refuses to admit that he hates with every fiber of his body (FUCKING NO).

i just. i just find this so funny. just that one moment where he goes "ARE YOU SERIOUS."

yes. yes, i am serious. now kiss all of these people that you have very strong feelings towards. it'll be fun! for me, specifically! only me! you're going to hate it!

#liz rants #i'm a boy who transmigrated into a gl novel what am i supposed to do now?!#transmigrated as the female lead's villain fiance

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unreadpoppy · 7 months

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song as old as rhyme - chapter 2

{Beauty and the Beast AU - Raphael x OC (Elize)}

chapter 1

Read on AO3

A/N: So here's chapter two and we are still setting up, so trust the process. Once again, i'm thanking my bestie @littlemoondarling for giving his insightful commentary ❤️ Anyways, enjoy the chapter!

Her prediction was right and her father had indeed woken up. He had his back towards her. Audifax was a tall and fat man, his white skin was tanned with how much out in the sun he usually was, and his short hair was almost all white, with a bald spot on the back. He was still in his night clothes and it appeared that he was setting the table.

The moment Elize walked, Audifax turned around and was shocked to see the state his daughter was in.

“Elize! What happened?” He rushed to her, putting both hands in her face, examining her but she brushed him aside, walking past him to put the basket on the table.

“I just took a fall while apple picking, father, but it will be fine.” She lied. Elize knew she didn’t have to lie, but at the moment, the girl did not want her father to get angry at others and do something stupid. He was an old man at this point, it wouldn’t do well to make him worry.

He eyed her suspiciously but decided to let matters go. “If you say so… but if anything is troubling you, don’t be afraid to tell me.” Audifax walked towards her and kissed her head. She just hummed in agreement.

“Well, I’ll change dresses and then we can eat.” Elize said and quickly made her way to her room, leaving her father to tend to the fruit.

The moment she entered her room, she covered her mouth with her hand and allowed herself to fully cry for a minute. Her mind kept replaying the events of the day, only making her feel worse. She wished she could have standed up for herself but it seemed that in those sorts of situations, Elize would find herself lost, and then people would walk all over her.

After some time, she finally calmed down and was able to put on new clothes, this time opting for a white shirt and some pants. She threw some water in her face, trying to clean some of the dirt, but knowing she would have to wash herself later.

When she was done, Elize left her room and sat down on the table with her father. As always, three chairs were sat, even if only two were occupied. She stared at it as Audifax passed her the plate, where he had cut a few apple slices, already having taken out the seeds.

They ate in silence and after finishing their meal, Audifax spoke. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

Elize relaxed in her chair. “I’m going to the river to wash our clothes and try to take a bath there as well, and then I’ll go to the library to help Mr. Antoine. Considering that that place is a mess, I can’t guarantee I’ll be back home in time for dinner.”

Audifax chuckled. It wasn’t the first time that Elize was going to help the old librarian, and she always complained about how even before his injury the books would be poorly kept and just put in random shelves. Whoever Mr. Antoine hired as his assistants before were terrible at their job.

“But what about you, father? Are you going to spend the rest of the day missing me?” She said sarcastically.

He smiled. “No, because I actually have business to attend to. I will also probably miss dinner.”

Elize crossed her arms on the table as she leaned forward. “Business? Of what kind?”

“I’ll have a meeting with some important people at Sharess Caress.”

“Where is that?”

“Baldur’s Gate.”

Elize must have had a worried look on her face, as Audifax put his hand over hers. “Do not fret, child. I know that city is far from where we live, but I promise to be back in a weeks time.” She gave him a small tight smile and nodded. She believed - hoped - that her father was doing the right thing, even if something felt odd. The lack of specifications on the job worried her, but she felt it was better not to dig further.

After they said their goodbyes, the day went as Elize had planned. Thankfully no one was around when she went to the river, and so she was able to once again enjoy some tranquility. She went back home to hang the clothes outside, to let them dry, and headed for the library.

Mr. Antoine was a very old dwarven man, his hair all white and his beard almost as long as he was. The week prior, he had fallen from the stairs, while arranging some books, and so he employed Elize’s help while his leg got better. They got along easily because neither enjoyed talking for too long.

Day became night and soon, Elize found herself back home and immediately went to bed.

In her dreams, she had terrible visions. She saw a man, with four long horns and skin as red as a cherry, who sprouted long leathery wings. He sat on a chair that almost resembled a throne and in front of him, kneeling with his head down, was her father. The man snapped his fingers and her father let out a scream as he was engulfed in flames, disappearing from where he was.

Elize woke up from her nightmare, sweating and with tears in her eyes. She tried to calm herself by thinking it was just a bad dream, but, as she noticed that it was already morning and there was no sign of Audifax in the house, she had a terrible sensation that something bad had happened.

The week passed, and her father had yet to come back.

#raphael x oc #raphael bg3 #raphael baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #raphael the cambion #raphael x elize #not tav oc #beauty and the beast AU

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buckybraneslover111 · 2 years

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Love p.2 - B.B.

summary: after the bombing in Vienna, Bucky was forced to come out of hiding, because he is framed for it. You and Steve found out where Bucky was living and decided to pay him a visit. After getting caught and arrested, they took Bucky to be evaluated, only for him to go rouge on everyone. What happens when you try to get him to come back to normal?

a/n: do not repost, translate or copy my work, also gif is not mine! credit to the creator. minor do not read!!

warnings: fighting, gun violence, mention of blood, smut 18+, lovemaking, breed kink, crying, choking(non-sexual), fluffy fluff:)

You and Steve snuck into Bucky’s apartment he had been hiding in since he pulled Steve out of the water that night, and now that you got the news about the bombing and it potentially being Bucky who did it, you were both concerned. You both looked around, moving trash around and looking behind everything. Steve grabbed a notebook that was on top of the fridge as you walked over to him looking over his shoulder, he flipped through the pages and found a picture of himself and a picture of you.

“Heads up guys, German Special Forces approaching from the south,” Sam said in your earpieces.

“Understood,” Steve said. You peaked over your shoulder to see Bucky standing in the middle of the room. You tapped Steve and he turned around facing Bucky with you. You both looked at Bucky as he stared at both of you sternly. “Do you know us?”

“You’re Steve and your y/n. I read about you both in a museum.” Bucky looked down at his feet then back up at both of you.

“I know you are nervous, you have every right to be. But you are lying.” Steve said.

“I wasn’t in Vienna, I don't do that anymore,” Bucky said.

“They're entering the building,” Sam said.

“Well, the people who think you did are coming here now, and they are not planning on taking you alive,” you said as you took a step closer to Bucky as he stepped back.

“That's good, great strategy,” Bucky said looking nervous.

“They’re on the roof, I'm compromised,” Sam said hearing the footsteps approach the door.

“This doesn't have to end with a fight, Buck,” Steve said.

Bucky sighed, “It always ends in a fight.” he took off his gloves and sighed.

“Five seconds,” Sam said.

“Steve...” you looked at Steve.

Steve said to panic, knowing you didn't have much time, “You pulled me from the river why?”

“I don't know.” Bucky looked straight at Steve.

“Yes, you do.”

“BREACH! BREACH!”

...

After getting caught by the German police and getting taken back to the headquarters where they put Bucky in a holding chamber, where they locked him up to get evaluated. You, Steve, and Sam all got an ear full from Natasha and Tony, but you were more concerned about if Bucky was alright. You sat at the table and looked through the glass at Bucky on camera as he was just sitting there with the German investigator. Sam came up on the side of you and put his hand on your shoulder causing you to jump a little, looking at him and then back at the camera.

“You alright y/n?” he said softly.

“Yeah, I just wanna make sure he is okay.” you nodded crossing your arms on your chest. Sam looked down and noticed the ring on your finger.

“You still wear your wedding ring?” he said.

You looked up at him sighing, looking back at the camera, “Yeah.” You loved Bucky very much and you just wanted to kiss him all over and tell him how much he means to you. You knew you couldn’t because of certain circumstances but just wearing the ring made you believe that one day you could share the love with him and let him know how much he means to you. You were watching the interview happening on the cameras when all of a sudden the power goes out. You jumped up and looked at Steve and Sam then at Sharon. “What happened?!”

“Sub-level five, east wing,” Sharon said to the three of you. You all got up and ran down to the sub-level, hoping to get to Bucky in time. When you guys reached the sub-level, you noticed all the guards were knocked out. Steve walked into the room and was talking to Zemo as you and Sam looked at Bucky. Sam turned around and Bucky swung at him hitting the wall and breaking it. He grabbed Sam and punched him then grabbed his jaw and threw him across the room collating with the base he was in before. Steve pushed you out of the way as he and Bucky started to fight.

“Y/n, run!” Steve yelled. Bucky kept fighting him until he punched Steve down the elevator shoot. You stood by the stairway, Bucky turned to look at you as he cracked his neck. You gulped and ran up the stairs, Bucky following you close behind. You made it to the upper level and turned around to face Bucky, slowly walking backward. He looked at you with no emotions, like you were his prey.

“Bucky, I don't want to fight you, please.” you looked behind him and saw Tony as he motioned you to stay quiet. You needed to distract Bucky long enough for Tony. to sneak attack him. “Bucky, this isn't you,” you slowly started to back away from him, “You don't hurt people. Please snap out of it.” Bucky picked up a gun that was on the floor and he aimed it at you. “Please.” Tony came out from behind the corner and shot two shock ways at Bucky as you moved out of the way, picking up two guns from the floor, and putting one in your back pocket. The two men continued to fight until Tony was knocked to the floor. Sharon came up and started fighting him, only to be thrown into tables. You quickly got up and jumped onto his back, putting him in a headlock to cut off his breathing. He struggles a bit to get you off, then quickly walks backward into a wall, causing you to let go and groan.

He turned quickly and punched the wall near your head, you quickly moving out of the way. You punched him in the stomach and kicked him away from you. He stumbled back and you jumped onto a chair and tried to kick him, but he grabbed both your legs, wrapping them around his neck as he held you up from your back. He slammed onto a table, your legs tightening around his neck to hold him there. He reached down with his metal arm and wrapped his hand around your neck and started to squeeze, causing you to take short breaths. “B-Bucky! At least you could try to recognize me.” you groaned as he squeezed your neck a little tighter. Your eyes begin to water, wrapping your hands around his metal wrist, you both looking into each other's eyes. “J-James...” you said softly, trying to get air to your lungs, “James...please...” For a moment, you can see in his eyes that he knows who you are. You were the only person who was allowed to call him James, he hated it, but you loved it. Everyone called him Bucky because he didn't like his first name, but for you, you could call him whatever you wanted. His face begins to soften, the grip on your neck loosens, and you gasp for air, getting your lungs full again.

“B-Bunny…” he whispered to you, a spec of hope running through your eyes.

“I-I can’t breathe Bucky…” he still had a hold on your neck and he pulled his hand away and let go of you. You took in deep breaths and he stumbled back looking down at his hands.

“I-I-…” he was cut off by Kei kicking him.

…

Bucky groaned waking up, his metal arm stuck under a machine to prevent him from hitting anyone. You were sat down in front of him, with your knees to your chest, your head resting on them. Sam stood on the side of you and looked at him, “Steve.” he yelled out. Steve walked over to where you guys were. Sam shook you awake, “Y/n wake up.” You groaned and opened your eyes and stood up quickly looking at Bucky.

“James…” you took a step towards him and he looked up at you with a small smile.

“I wish I could remember you…”

“Don’t even bother y/n. He says he can’t remember but he is a liar.” Steve scoffed.

“I remember you, Steve, just not her.” he looked up at you. You walked over to Bucky and slapped him across the face. Sam went to go pull you away, but Steve stopped him. Bucky turned to look back at you and he sighed.

“I deserved that.”

“You remember him but not me?! Your wife for 4 years?!” you didn’t realize you were crying until you let out a sob.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“I get nothing?! Nothing?!” you punched him in his chest and then in the face. Steve walked over and pulled you away from him. Bucky spits blood out and he looked at both of you.

“I deserved that. I’m guessing I went rogue again?”Bucky looked at Steve.

“Yeah, and you nearly killed her Buck.” Steve said, “But we need your help.”

“My help?”

…

After a long fight, you and everyone else returned to the compound. You walked to the elevator with everyone then turned around when you didn’t see Bucky. You looked at him as he was just standing there in silence. You walked over to him and he looked at you, “If you want, you can come up to my room and shower before you go.” Bucky looked at you with a little happiness in his eyes. He was going to go to Wakanda to get help to break himself free of Hydras' hold over him. He nodded and you turned towards the elevator, everyone getting in, letting you two come in. The door opened up on your floor and you and Bucky stepped out. He followed you to your room as you opened the door letting him go first.

“Y/n?” Steve said as you turned to him, “Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah, thanks.” you smiled a bit then walked into the room. Bucky stood by the table awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with you. You toss your tactical gear on the table, “Follow me.” you walked to your bathroom and turned on the shower getting it to a warm temperature. You started to strip your clothes, Bucky turning away from your naked form. You looked back at him, then turned away, “You don’t have to join me, but figured we could save water.” You stepped into the shower closing the glass door behind you, standing under the water letting it run down your face, sweat and blood falling off of you. You hummed at the warm feeling of the water relaxing your muscles. Before you could reach for the shampoo, you heard the glass door open and shut, feeling a presence behind you. You looked back up at Bucky as he towered over you.

“Save water,” he said softly.

You nodded and rinsed out your hair, moving forward out of the way of the showerhead, allowing Bucky to step forward, letting the warm water run down his body. You turned around, his back facing you, his head tilted up to let the water run down his long hair. You wrapped your arms around his waist, your hands on his stomach, resting your head between his shoulders. You noticed his breathing was uneven and you heard him sniffle. “It’s okay Bucky.”

“I want to remember y-you. I-I want to feel loved again.” he let out little hiccups as he cried silently letting tears fall down his face.

“Shhh it’s okay Bucky.” you kissed his shoulder. He turned around in your arms and looked around at you as your bodies pushed together.

“W-What if I can’t remember you? What if I go to Wakanda and they can’t help me and I-I’m just this killing machine and I can’t stop. I want to love you again. I wanna know what it’s like to feel that way again.” he held your cheeks with his hands, looking into your eyes with his glossy, teary blue ones.

“If you want to remember then go to Wakanda and get help. I’ll be here, waiting. I haven’t given up on you Bucky. I waited 43 years to finally see you again, I can wait even longer if that means I get to have you back.” you whispered to him, your lips close to his.

“What was the nickname I gave you? I-I remember I called you it before.” he sniffled.

“Bunny.” you blushed a little at the nickname. He gave you that name when you first started dating because you were always so cheerful and outgoing while he was the opposite.

“Bunny…” he said softly, “Kiss me.” he ran his thumb over your bottom lip, leaning in, kissing you with a lot of passion, you returned the kiss and pulled him closer to you if that was possible. He pushed you up against the shower wall, pulling away to kiss your neck. You moaned out his name wrapping your fingers in his hair to keep him close to you.

“Make love to me James.” you moaned softly closing your eyes. You felt his hard-on press up against your stomach, his eagerness getting ahead of him, pulling your leg up to wrap around his waist. “James, take it slow.” you pulled him off your neck as his blue eyes were dark orbs now. “Please.” he put your leg down and turned you around so your chest was against the shower wall. You pant feeling him rub his tip against your weeping hole.

“Shhh, I got you,” he whispers in your ear, sliding himself into you, both of you moaning at the contact. He pushed in deep, allowing you to feel every vein and inch of him until he was all the way inside of you.

“B-Buck...” you close your eyes moaning at the feeling.

“I-Its okay, I’m right here.” he pulled out until only the tip was in then he pushed back into you slowly groaning at your tightness. You put your hands against the shower wall trying to grip onto something as he started a slow hard pace, groaning in your ear every once in a while. You were a moaning mess, moaning his name and profanity. He put one hand on your hip and one hand on top of yours against the shower wall, your fingers interlocking with his. You threw your head back as one particular thrust hits against the squeezy thing inside of you.

“I-I love you James.” you moaned loudly, his thursts picking up in pace, his balls slapping against your clit, “I’m close!” you can feel the coil in your stomach begin to tighten, your orgasm approaching you quickly, his thrusts getting harder, hitting your spot every time. You gripped his hand hard, your orgasm taking over you, your legs shaking as you came around his cock. “James! Fuck! Cum inside me please!” you threw your head back against his shoulder as he was trying to catch his own orgasm.

“Yeah?! You want me to fill you up? Breed your little hole? Put a baby in you?!” he pinned both of your hands against the shower wall above your head, his thrusts getting faster and deeper.

“Yes! Give it to me Bucky! Fill me up!” you moaned loudly turning your head to look into his eyes. He looked into yours, lust running through his. “T-Tell me you l-love me, please?” tears started to form in your eyes as you both looked into each other's souls.

“I-I love y-you.” he leaned in, kissing you deeply, pushing deep inside of you, filling you up with his cum. He pulled away and leaned his forehead agaisnt the shower wall as you both breathed heavily. “I love you bunny...”

He pulled out of you and you both finished your shower, washing and kissing each others body. You turned off the shower and stepped out handing him a towel while you wrap yourself in one. Following him out of the bathroom, you walked to your closet putting on a pair of biker shorts and a long shirt. Bucky put on his boxers, sitting on the bed looking at you. You walked over to him standing between his legs, running your hands through his hair, “You didnt have to tell me you loved me. It was the heat of the moment and I...”

He cut you off, “I do love you, I just wish I could be the man you had before.” he rubbed your hips under your shirt.

“I love you Bucky...” you kissed the top of his head, resting your head on his. “I got you something, you dont have to wear it, i just want you to have it.” you reached in your nightstand and took out a box handing it to him. He put his vibranium arm around your waist and opened the box seeing a wedding band. “This isn't your exact wedding ring, but its similar and I want you to have it. I want you to know that you arent doing this for me, but you are doing this for yourself, to be a better person. Like I said, I will be here waiting for you when you are ready.” you hugged his neck as you felt a wet spot on your shirt from him crying.

“T-Thank you.” he hugged your waist as you both stood there in silence, savoring the last moments you will have together until he comes back, not knowing how long that would be.

...

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waitwtfismylife · 5 days

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in anastasia, it's so obvious from the beginning that anya is the lost princess. in "a rumor in st. petersburg", she panics when she hears a truck backfiring, mistaking it for gunshots. while Dimitri and vlad were not present to witness that, it definitely arouse some suspicion within gleb.

when anya first meets with Dimitri and vlad, she claims that she's waiting for someone in paris. who's in paris?anastasias grandmother, the dowager empress. she also says that she's been in the room in the yusupov palace where the three currently were, where there was a play, with fancy clothing and expensive champagne. before she said that, she had no knowledge of the room they were standing in being a theatre of fhe yusupov palace. as she sings "in my dreams", the amnesiac recalls all the feverish memories she has of her past. she sings "a beautiful river; a bridge by a square; and i hear a voice whisper i'll meet you right there in paris". this shows that anya knows of a bridge in paris, which the dowager empress tells anastasia about during the prologue. she sings "i've seen flashes of fire; heard the echo of screams". how was anastasia's family murdered? assassination by gunfire. of course, there would be screaming and fire. it is also proved historically that anastasia was the second to last one to be assassinated, the first being her younger brother, alexei. that being, she had already witnessed the five murders of her parents and sisters.

during the "learn to do it" scene, there is so much clear evidence of anya being the lost princess that it's almost comical that vlad and dimitri don't realize it. the first one is when she perfectly curtsies, without being taught by vlad how to. the second time is when vlad asks who her best friend is, she replies "my little brother alexei". vlad tells her that she's wrong, to which she replies "i know who my best friend is!" this shows that anya knew things about anastasia's life that wasn't public knowledge. the third time is when she's learning her family tree, and claims that she recalls count sergei's yellow cat, to which vlad says "i don't believe we told her that". at the end of the song, vlad tells her that she did very good, but says it in french, to which anya replies in perfect french. vlad and dimitri hadn't taught her how to speak french. if anya knew how to speak french, then there was no possibility that she was of peasant descent.

when anya is in a meeting with gleb in the communist headquarters, he tells her that his father was one of the guards that killed the romanovs, and that all seven of them were dead, to which anya replies "i don't want to hear it", showing that either she had trauma regarding the assassination, or that she just wanted to live out her fantasy.

when dimitri gives anya the music box, which they had not yet realized was hers as a child, she is able to open it while he cannot. he is confused at this, and is amazed at the fact that anya knows the song that it plays. while she sings "once upon a december", the ghosts of the romanovs are onstage, and dance with her. while this is just the staging, it shows that anya has some sort of connection to them. after the song, she reveals to dimitri that she has a diamond in her pocket, which the nurse at the hospital found seen into her underclothes. when the romanovs were being taken to the cellar where they would be assassinated, they were under the influence that they were being taking to e new location, so empress alexandra of russia, anastasia's mother, urged all the girls to put their expensive jewelry into their underclothes. the diamond gives proof that anya had some value to her name in the past, without blatantly revealing that she was the grand duchess anastasia.

during the scene on the train, communist officers board asking for people who are traveling illegally, which are anya, dimitri, and vlad. anya panics and dimitri assures her that it's all going to be okay. anya says to him "that's what the soldiers said when they were pointing their guns at us". this intrigues dimitri, and he asks anya more. she says "they said they were taking us somewhere safe. toby’s little heart was beating against mine. ‘they’re decent men,’ I told him. ‘they won’t harm us’." of course it's weird that anya is saying all this, but dimitri, amidst distraction, brushes it off, telling anya that she's taking this to far, not realizing that what she's saying is her actual experience.

during "crossing a bridge", anya stands of tsar alexander iii bridge, which is the one the dowager told her about, the one in her dreams, she just didn't know it yet.

during the scene where anya has a nightmare, it is shown that her nightmare is of her being taunted by the romanovs, along with more superfluous russian nobles. when dimitri comes in to comfort her, he tells her about how he, as a child, fell in love with anastasia, yet never believed he could be with her. when anya is singing, the sings "i tried not to smile; but i smiled; and then, bowed". dimitri is shocked, because while she was aware he had bowed to someone once, she was unaware that that person was anastasia. that is when they both realize that she is the grand duchess anastasia, and that the childhood crushes were finally reunited.

during the ballet, the dowager empress sees anya, and sings "see that girl; could it be?" showing that even she thinks it might be anastasia, but doesn't want to believe it. after the ballet, anastasia goes into the interview with the dowager, to which she is immediately dismissed and branded a fraud. now anya is upset at dimitri, because she thinks that she was always just a pawn in his scheme to get the reward money from the dowager empress.

when the dowager goes to anya's hotel to give her a second chance, she interviews her, asking questions such as "what was your mothers full title as empress of all russia?" anya only gives sentimental replies to these questions such as "she was mama to me. she was mama to all of us." the dowager is at first unpersuaded, until anya tells her that "my nana was the most loving woman imaginable." the thing that set this aside from the rest of the girls trying to be anastasia is that anya used "nana", while everyone else believed her to be "grandmama". anya can also recall the very specific scent that the dowager would always wear. orange blossom from sicily, that came in a box of polished inglewood. it is the final revelation when anya shows the dowager the music box, which was a gift that the dowager had given anastasia, right before the assassination. this finally reunites the dowager empress with her long-lost granddaughter.

during the press conference scene, anya is reintroduced with count leopold, and upon meeting him, says "count leopold, with your dyed hair, powdered face, and vodka breath. no wonder my parents laughed at you behind your back," a statement which the dowager confirms to be true.

when gleb finally catches up to anya, during "the neva flows/still reprise", he holds her at gunpoint, believing that all the romanovs must be dead. at first, he doesn't believe that she is anastasia, until she attests to that, making gleb having to shoot her. while she is terrified, she doesn't want to seem weak to gleb, so when he asks her "for the last time, who are you?" she responds "i am the grand duchess anastasia nicolaevna romanov. gleb cannot do it, so he drops the gun, and allows anya to go.

dimitri, while leaving paris, accepts the fact that anya and him cannot be, while anastasia disagrees. anya chooses being with dimitri over being anastasia, and while remains in contact with the dowager, lives with dimitri, and the reward money for anastasia's return is given to charity.

#anastasia #anastasia musical #anastasia romanov #romanov #musicals #theatre #theatre kid #dimitri anastasia #vlad popov #dowager empress #russia #history

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thegloweringcastle · 1 year

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Part Two - 365 Days Later

@the-lonelybarricade, remember how HOURS AGO I said it would be posted soon? Lol well it’s finally here. Sorry it took so long 🫣

Also, when you told me that your favorite romcom was About Time it took all of my willpower to not start over and write it as a feysand au because ITS MY FAVORITE TOO!! Gets me in my feels every time and I love it. Suffice to say, I will continue to work on it for my own enjoyment because it is a need, not a want.

I hope that you enjoy this next chapter as much as the last!

@acotargiftexchange

warnings: none(?)

word count: ~3.3k

Feyre’s second arrival in Velaris sparked the same giddiness and awe as her first trip. And this time, she was looking forward to more than just the winding river and picturesque mountains. This time, she was anxious to see the man who had consumed her every thought for the past three hundred and sixty five days.

The air was crisp with seasalt and snow, and the setting sun poured over the city like chilled honey. Holiday decorations of all kinds lined the streets, and people smiled at each other as they passed. As Feyre made her way to the fabric shop on the corner, she decided she would gladly live in a place like this.

Someday, she promised herself.

She lugged the canvas - wrapped in layers upon layers of protective foam and paper - all the way from the train station to the shop on the corner, and when she opened the door, the scent of jasmine washed over her like a wave of nostalgia; a dream from so long ago it was nearly fantastical, nearly too good to be true.

But there he was, sitting on a stool behind the front counter, his violet eyes flashing over the pages of an old cracked paperback dwarfed by one single hand.

He only looked up when the door shut.

Feyre smirked. “Hello, prick.”

His grin was even brighter than she remembered.

***

Rhysand would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about Feyre over the past year. There and then gone, that short time they spent together had been like a spell cast on him. He couldn’t think about any woman - anyone - but her. And then, when it had gotten later and later into the day with still no sign of her, Rhys had been worried. Until she appeared in the wink of an eye, standing in the doorway of his mother’s shop; that was when Rhys’ best dreams had come true.

“What?” She said, after he had been silent for one heartbeat too long. “Did you think I would go back on our deal?”

“Not at all, darling.” He stood and stepped from behind the counter to greet her. “I just lost track of the days.” Liar. He had multiple countdowns going on his calendar and cellphone.

“I present to you a Feyre Archeron original.” Archeron. Rhys liked the sound of it. He even believed it would sound rather nice with his own name. Archeron - Moreno. Yes, he could get used to it.

She hefted a large, flat cardboard box onto the counter and slid it across to him like in a drug deal.

“Can I open it -”

“Rhysand!”

Feyre raised a single, thin brow at him.

“One second Fey-”

“Rhysand, sweetie, have you seen my chalk?”

Rhys turned just in time to see his mom slip around the corner from the back of the shop where her work room was located.

“I thought I set it on the…” Her gaze landed on Feyre, then the box, then back on Feyre. “Hello dear! Is Rhysie here treating you well? I’m happy to help you if there’s something in particular you’re looking for.”

Rhys appreciated the effort Feyre put towards not laughing. Still, her mouth hitched up in a smile as she spoke. “Oh that’s okay ma’am. I was just delivering a gift to Rhysie here.”

“Oh, well go ahead and open it! Don’t let me interrupt.”

“Sorry, mom. Top secret.” He ignored the flush creeping up his neck and instead moved around the counter to stand beside Feyre. “Ma, I don’t believe you’ve met Feyre. Feyre, this is my mother and the owner of this shop. Mom, this is Feyre Archeron, world renowned artist with a surprisingly accurate aim.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, miss...” Feyre stuck her hand out but was instead pulled into a hug.

“Please, call me Zyra. You must be the lovely girl Rhys won’t stop talking about! I have to know, did you really-”

“Okay!” Rhys clapped his hands once and grabbed his coat from the rack. “Feyre needs help with a project, so we’ll be very busy the rest of the evening. Will you be okay on your own in the shop for a while?”

“Bah,” She waved a hand in the air. “I’m just doing finishing touches on Emerie and Mor’s gowns for their engagement party. You kids go have fun - and stay warm!”

After another round of hugs and, much to Rhys’ embarrassment, cheek kisses, they were out of the shop and strolling down the sidewalk. For a few long minutes, Rhys was too mortified to look at Feyre. When he did, her eyes seemed to hold more moisture than before.

“You’re mom is…” Her voice seemed more strained than usual. “She is very kind.”

Rhys didn’t know what to say to that. The plain, honest truth? Yes, and she’s saved my life by saving the lives of those I love. She’s saved my life by loving me. Acknowledge it without seeming clingy? Yes, she is. She’s a spitfire; it’s where my cousin and sister get it from.

But while Rhys was caught up in his head, Feyre had already moved on.

“I know what I would like you to do for me as part of our deal.”

This was something he could handle. “Oh? I’m intrigued.”

“I have one last portfolio to submit to get my degree in the spring. The theme is ‘dark’, and I was hoping you could give me a tour of the ‘Star Light City’.” She gestured to one of the banners, embroidered with the city’s nickname, hanging below a garland-clad lamppost.

“Feyre darling, it would be my honor.” Rhys offered his elbow, and his heart sped up when she took it. “I know just the place to begin.”

***

For what felt like the millionth time, Feyre stopped them to take photos. She seemed enamored with the river, entranced by the colorful streets and smiling people, and even more taken with the stars beginning to peek through in the quickly darkening sky. Every single thing Rhysand saw as a normal part of life, Feyre saw as a work of art. And he loved it. Indeed, he too liked to take a moment and appreciate the beauty of the world around him; he certainly wouldn’t take it for granted. But watching her fall in love with the sight of ice formations along the riverbank or the individuals walking through the city at night brought more joy to Rhys than anything in the world.

He heard the shutter click once, twice, three times more. Rhys wondered what that was like, to experience the whole world through paint and charcoal and camera lenses. Was it as lonely as it looked?

He turned and leaned against the rail they stood at, angling his head to look at Feyre. “Is it difficult to love art?”

Feyre let the camera down to hang from the strap around her neck and looked at Rhys. “What do you mean? Art’s probably my favorite thing in the world.” She glanced downwards, shy. “Or at least, one of my favorite things.”

Rhys shrugged. “I don’t know. Does it ever make you feel… disconnected?”

Feyre shook her head, her cheeks - rosy from the cold - tightening in a smile. “Not really,” She turned and mimicked his position. “Art, for me, is a way to connect with everyone. All these people around us have lives of their own, stories that nobody knows. Art is like skimming the surface of those stories; making new friends everywhere, if only for a brief time.” She shrugged. “Besides, even when it does make me feel lonely, it’s never as lonely as life without art.”

“How often does it make you feel lonely?”

She paused, held her breath, scanned the building in front of them. Rhys imagined she was searching for words, filing through her thoughts like one would a catalog. “If I am feeling lonely, it is not usually because of art.”

As Rhys tried to think of a response to that, Feyre lifted the camera back up to her face and snapped a picture of him.

She hit a button and looked at the digital screen, her face creasing into a frown. “Oh darn,” She drawled. “Your face got in the way. That’s too bad, it would have been really good otherwise.”

Rhys let out a deep, rumbling laugh, and Feyre’s returning smile was better than any photograph, disrupted or not. “I think you would get along with my sister and cousin quite well.”

***

Ice skating was one of the many childhood experiences that Feyre had never had. Rhysand made it look easy enough, gliding around on shiny blades and slick ice, but after she had tightened her shoes and stood from the bench, she realized she was not as physically fit as she originally thought.

The outdoor rink was small and empty, save for the two of them and a group of teenagers messing around at one end, which made Feyre far less self conscious and a far lower risk to her surroundings.

“Have you got it alright?” Rhys swooped in front of her, ice shavings flying through the air as he slid to a stop.

“Yes, but-” She was breathless. “How do you expect me to take pictures? I really shouldn’t be doing this with a camera.” She reached her arms out, grabbing for Rhys as she began to move without actually moving. She flailed a bit more, but he settled her by resting her hands on his shoulders and mirroring her.

“Alright, you hang on tight, and after we get going maybe you can start getting some shots. Is that okay?”

“Sure,” She gasped. “But I swear by the cauldron, if you let me fall and my camera breaks-”

“I’ll buy you a new one and carry you to the hospital. I promise.” His grin was sly, but his eyes were soft. Far more lively than the replicas she had tried so hard to paint in the months since she’d seen him.

She moved to take a picture of them, but realized too many photos of him might seem… odd. He didn’t need to know she had been thinking about him, and only him, for the past year. His head already had trouble fitting through the door. So, Feyre ended up getting a photo of their shadows intertwining on the surface of the ice. And she didn’t think it turned out too bad.

“Keep your eyes on something that’s not moving to help your balance.” His words were practically a direct order for Feyre to get lost in his gaze. She felt better that he was staring at her too. “Have you ever been ice skating before?”

“Nope,” Her ankles wobbled. It took more strength than she thought. “My parents… I never got the chance.” They hit a rough patch of ice, and their momentum nearly took them out.

“Easy,” His deep voice slid down her spine, chilling her with white hot sparks. He leaned in closer, and she found she didn’t mind the invasion of space. Feyre had fallen against Rhysand’s chest where the scent of jasmine engulfed her senses; a knot of anxiety unwound in her stomach, the pressure in her neck eased. “You okay? Your parents clearly did you a disservice by never taking you skating. A wipeout like that could have ended very badly for both of us, and then who would have carried you so valiantly through the snow and to the hospital?”

“Ah, well,” She shifted her weight. “I’m sure you would have found a way to manage.” She pushed one foot back, copying Rhys’ movements, and then the other. She started moving, wobbling like a newborn foal the whole way.

Rhys whooped, the sound echoing through the park. “You’re doing it!” He began to slip one hand from hers. “Think we could go side by side? Don’t worry, I’ll go slow.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Feyre clung to him like he was a lifeline. “Rhys, I don't think that’s a good idea! Rhysand!”

“Don’t worry darling, I’ve got you.” He swept around to stand behind her, and it almost would have been romantic if he weren’t holding her hands like an adult helping a baby learn to walk. Feyre, however, couldn’t find it in herself to care, and was far more concerned about not falling while carrying an expensive piece of art equipment.

Before she knew it, she was no longer shuffling along the ice like a penguin, but rather gliding in short bursts, clinging to only one of Rhys’ hands as they went.

“There you go, you’ve got it!” The sentence was a jinx. Feyre looked away from the ground to meet his eyes, pushed off with the wrong foot, and promptly fell down, pulling Rhys with her.

Her breath left her with an oof as he landed half-atop her, before turning into a laugh.

His laugh froze in front of him. “Are you okay?”

“The real question: is the camera okay? If the camera is okay, then I am okay.” She sat up, inspecting the lens, different buttons and dials, and screen. “Yes,” she said with a relieved sigh. “Everything's good. Honestly I’m surprised it took me that long to go down.” She readjusted her hat but made no move to stand, her unsteady legs appreciating the break.

“I’m not. You’re a natural! I hope you’re ready to go to the Olympics with me.”

When he angled his head down to meet her gaze, the world gave Feyre the perfect birthday gift; it handed her the highlight of her portfolio on a silver platter. The loose ice shavings suspended in his hair looked like stars, his black hair as dark as midnight, and it all blended perfectly into the backdrop of the night sky.

“Don’t move,” She raised her camera up, lining everything up just so, so that it looked as if Rhys and the night were one. Really, after getting to know him, she wouldn’t have found it hard to believe if they were. “Perfect.”

“Yep,” He leaned back on the cold, snow coated ice. “I know I am.”

She rolled her eyes so hard she nearly saw the spirit realm. “Har-har. You’re hilarious.” But still, she laid down beside him, staring up at the endless sea of stars.

It was a while until Rhys broke the silence, his words an ax to ice. “Can I ask you why you’re here alone on your birthday?”

He remembered? She didn’t think he would remember the small mention she made last year of her birthday trip. “I don’t…” He waited patiently while she searched for the words. “My sisters - Elain and Nesta - and I, do not always get along. And because my birthday is so close to the holidays, it requires either a lot of traveling or one long stay away from their homes, neither of which are options they’re fond of. They were both able to escape our hometown - I wasn’t - and they have their lives set up nicely elsewhere. I can’t really blame them.” She never really acknowledged how wrong it was until she said the words out loud, and even then, she could see the logic of it all.

“‘Escape’? I’m going to go out on a limb and bet none of you like your hometown. If you hate it so much, why do you stay?”

She shrugged. “A few reasons. Partially because of school, partially because I can’t afford anywhere else.”

“What about your parents? Extended family? Couldn’t they help?”

“Um, no, and… “ She didn’t know how to say it. She didn’t know if she should say it. So she deflected. “Not to sound snotty or anything but why do you care so much?” She tried to soften the sentence with an easy laugh.

“Everyone deserves to be happy with their lives.” He shrugged. “Didn’t mean to pry though. Sorry.”

She changed the subject. “What about you?” She rolled her head to the side so she could see him. “What are you doing now? You said last time you graduated in the spring.”

He actually blushed. Almost as brightly as when Feyre met his mom. “I was actually planning to run in the next election. About two years from now.”

“What?” Her eyes widened. “That’s amazing, Rhys.”

Again, he shrugged. “Calm down now, I haven’t won yet.”

“Emphasis on the ‘yet’. You’ll do great.”

He chuckled. “I appreciate your confidence in me,” He chuckled. “But I highly doubt that the citizens will vote for a young adult fresh out of university.”

“Rhysand Moreno,” Feyre sat up, tugging Rhys with her. “You are simultaneously the most arrogant prick I have ever met in my entire life, but you also have a heart bigger than the moon. You have everything it takes to be an elected government official, more specifically a good, kind government official.” She glared at his impish grin. “What are you smiling at?”

“Feyre darling, your lips are blue.” He brought his hand up and brushed one, bare thumb across her mouth. Feyre didn’t know how his hands weren’t freezing, all she knew was that the bitter cold was suddenly not so bitter. “Come on,” He helped her stand. “Let’s get some hot tea.”

***

Flames danced around the fireplace in the hotel lobby, licking and jumping at the garland strung from the mantelpiece and casting wild shadows across the hardwood floors.

Rhys stared into his cup, swirling the last dregs of his tea around the bottom. “You know, it’s too bad you’re not staying for New Year’s.

“What, you don’t have anyone else to kiss at midnight?” He had to admit, she was getting good at replicating his smirk.

“No, it’s not that.” It was just that there was no one else he wanted to kiss. “You see, here in Velaris, we have something better than fireworks. I think you would enjoy it. Especially as an artist.”

Feyre raised a skeptical brow. “I have trouble believing there is such a thing as something better than New Year’s fireworks.”

“Hmm,” He looked at her through lazy, half-lidded eyes. “Perhaps you’ll just have to visit on New Year’s Eve and find out.”

“I suppose so.” She set her teacup down on a coaster, and Rhys didn’t miss the questioning look she sent its way. “Tell you what, Rhys. I will arrive on New Year’s Eve and stay the night so you can show me this proclaimed ‘better than fireworks’ display,” she cleared her throat. “evenifitsjustsoicansayyourewrong.” She fanned herself. “Sorry, frog in my throat. Anyways, I will come for New Year’s, and in exchange you will let me spend some more time with you and your mother.”

That was… not at all what he expected her to ask for. It definitely wasn’t what he wanted her to ask for. When he brought his focus back to her, he realized she was shy, maybe even a little sad. And for the first time since their conversation at the ice-rink, he wondered how lonely her life away from Velaris was like.

“Feyre darling, are you trying to make another deal with me?” Her cheeks flushed; there was his answer. “If so, I am more than happy to agree to it.”

Their handshake was firm, and Feyre’s touch warmed Rhys to his very bones. “I just hope I can make it the extra ten days without you, darling.”

It wasn’t until Feyre was on the train early the next morning that she found the gift and card inside her purse. The letter, a greeting card with Van Gogh’s Sunflowers covering the front, was a simple birthday wish. What made it special was the person it was from and the number they left. Despite the struggles her following year brought, Feyre could safely say that it was one of the better years she had had in a long, long time. If you were to ask her, she would say there was no correlation between that fact and the messages she often received. You wouldn’t have to be a genius to know she was lying.

#feysand #rhysand #feyre archeron #home for the cold spell #acotar holiday gift swap

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idlenight · 8 months

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@wonda-fhr essentially challenged a bunch of us to answer even more Sidestep OC asks. I will gladly take the free reign to unabashedly talk more about my Sidesteps. And there where indeed about three questions I had wanted to answer in varying degrees that didn't come up!

So here we go, it got longer than I intended.

19 - what scarred them the most about the heartbreak incident?

There was so much happening during heartbreak. Loss of autonomy, loss of loved ones, loss of life. Death everywhere you looked, in every breath. You can't push your mind out and feel because then it'll find you.

You do something you thought you would never do (the gun tastes metallic, like the blood you smell everywhere, but the cold touch on the roof of your mouth is strangely comforting). You want to end it all, relieve the pressure of pretending to be something you're not (why did you think you could be a hero, or human?), but also the actual pressure of another mind wrapped around your own (suffocating, stiffling). There's an underlying anger there, directed at you, at the thing doing this to you, at the people who have made you, it's hard to tell which but it's anger all the same. (You've never been angry like this, it settles inside and cuts a place for itself but it'll be forgotten and fester for years).

It's hard to pick one thing out of that whole mess that shines above the rest. The whole thing weighs on River like Atlas, and he's pretending it's not there. Out of all of it I focus the most on the actual heartbreak scar the most. River took on the Suicide scar, and death is very prominent in River's current perception of himself. In the question about death from this list I said "River considers himself a death man walking." and he does consider himself as death, not just the person that died on that day, but current day River. A perception that Julia is challenging.

River's Suicide scar faded into the Revenge scar. Something I like to think as bubbling up to the surface as a long festering anger after Julia starts to make him feel alive again, however small. If River doesn't stay productive that anger would eat him alive and destroy what fragile relationships he has build. It's an ugly thing. (it's hard to tell if that anger is his own, or someone else's).

21 - what is their philosophy?

River has the fate motivation, and while he doesn't believe in some grand design or something out there putting people on a path, he does believe that things that have happened couldn't have happened any other way. The future is still malable, but once something has happened that is the only way it could've played out.

It is inevitable. It is what it is because it couldn't be anything else. (Aiat*)

It's an odd and somewhat floaty philosophy you might not expect for someone that is quite tactically and intelectually driven.

(*Aiat, a word the fictional species the Hive use from the game Destiny. It holds a lot of meaning lore-wise but the word is what I based River's fate motivation on. If you're interested here is a post that explained it beautifully. It might however not make a lot of sense if you're not already aware of destiny lore.)

35 - if they could have any other superpower, what would they choose?

I wanted to answer this one for everyone except River actually! I have a habit of making all my ocs and mcs fit and live together in one reality parallel to each other. I find it fun but also an interesting exercise to figure out logisticaslly. Maxwell, Clementine, and Rain all have different powers to me than Sidestep, because none of them a truly Sidestep in my head.

Clementine is tricky because I’m still not sure if I want her to be a infiltration unit or a combat unit. For infiltration I was imagining her as having super-senses, keeping her on hyper alert at all times that it almost makes her a prediction machine (and a great listening in device). As a combat unit it would be some level of invulnerability/indestructibility and perhaps super strength.

Rain is some level of telepath still (it runs in the genes). Tactile, and perhaps only one aspect. Not suggestion like Hollow ground, there don’t need to be two. Unsure if it would be memories, or feelings? Something I’m workshopping.

Maxwell is the only one I have fully figured out. They are a double boost. Their first dose gave them the ability to create force fields, bubbles of protection. Their second boost gave them invisibility. (Pretty much just the power set of Violet Parr from the Incredibles). Only their first boost is registered.

#fallen hero #fhr #sidestep #ask game #oc tag #oc: River Becker #oc: Maxwell Elmore #oc: Clementine Price #oc: Rain Becker

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tricoloured-cat · 2 years

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Happy Birthday Kunikida! As a tribute I decided to read (well, more finish) "Meat and Potatoes" by... Kunikida-sensei HAHA but as I was reading I noticed similarities between that short story and BSD Kunikida's life

parallels between BSD Kunikida and Meat and Potatoes

warning: major spoilers for Meat and Potatoes, the first LN, as well as the manga! also for this essay thing I shall ignore the existence of the anime adaptation of the Azure Messenger (also not proofread too lazy)

Note: Some of these points have been made by others, but here I just want to emphasize these things in the context of Meat and Potatoes.

"But the point is, you can't ideals," said Kamimura, screwing up his face. "Ha ha. Of course you can't. They're not beefsteaks!" laughed Takeuchi, opening his huge mouth. "But that's exactly it. Reality is a beefsteak. Or stew if you like."

As the title of the story suggests, meat and potatoes are compared to reality and ideals. In fact meat can go farther than just reality; it's an implicit description to the hedonistic life.

In the franchise, it can be said that Dazai is very much Team Meat rather than Team Potato. He does as he pleases and wrecks the world of the then highly rigid member of Team Potato, Kunikida.

This was the third day of being paired with Dazai. I knew no peace for even an hour, nor could I focus wholeheartedly on work, and the number of complaints pouring in on the phone continued to climb higher. Whenever I took my eyes off of him, he would say he was going to drown himself and then fling himself into a river, or say to be careful and then go off to drink at a bar, or say he received a divine revelation and run off to flirt with a pretty girl. Quite fittingly for a twenty- year-old man-child, he only did what suited himself and smashed my schedule to bits.

Kunikida's sanity has been compromised since then, yes, but Dazai's erratic personality doesn't deter him from his determination to follow his ideal.

In Meat and Potatoes, there are two major disillusioned idealists: Kamimura and Okamoto.

Kamimura's transfer from Team Potato to Team Meat is, I suppose you could say hardly significant. He switches with a "oh to hell with it" attitude and abandons the ascetic potato-only life for meat-filled enjoyment. Why is it so? Simply put, his desire to be in Team Potato was never serious. His fascination with his Christian faith and scorn for the "fools in Tokyo" were what drove him to his rural potato-farm life in Hokkaido.

"Kamimura and the rest of you were members of the Potato Party at first, but later changed your allegiance to the Meat Party. In other words, you're all weak-willed."

Kondo's words, I believe, mirror Kunikida's initial thoughts of Dazai. I'm not so weak as to give in to someone like him!

On the other hand, Okamoto's disillusionment - but not transfer to Team Meat - was far more serious. This is where Kunikida's own disillusionment can be linked to.

It was the death of the woman Okamoto loved that made him curse the very world he lives in. The intensity of his love had made its loss so great. In Kondo's words,

"[Men] often weary of life and if they encounter love in such a state, they find in it a means of escape. For that reason they throw their whole hearty into the fiery furnace of love."

Okamoto does not rebuke nor confirm this, but we can assume that Kondo hit the nail on the head.

Kunikida, too, loved a woman deeply: Sasaki Nobuko. Now the parallels isn't too surprising since both stories are based on Kunikida-sensei's real life heartbreak with his wife of the same name. Fortunately she didn't actually die (she just left him 5 months into their marriage) but the pain is so immense that her memory is essentially a ghost haunting the three of them.

"I want to have her back again and so intensely do I feel about that that I don't care what happens to me. I freely admit that I've cried over her many times. Over and over again I've called her name and looked up at the sky. Of course I wish that she would come back to life."

This resounds their feelings for their woman so well. Their hopes and dreams were built for and shattered by her - for Okamoto, this was his fall into indecision. He is not Team Meat nor Team Potato. He is not a realist nor an idealist. He is not a optimist nor pessimist. He's just a broken man.

In fact, Dazai alludes to this fall after Sasaki's death.

“Tell me, Dazai! Was it right for her to die? Is this the ideal world I’ve sought for...?” Dazai stared at me and whispered, “Kunikida. There are those who believe in your just, ideal world, and thus they grow to resent this one. The Azure King was one such person. While championing his causes of justice and idealism, he hurt the weak around him.” He looked far off into the distance. “The phrase ‘seeking justice’ is a weapon. Once it hurts the weak, it can no longer be a force of good. This justice the Azure King sought was what killed Sasaki. His accusation wounded me. Seeking a world of justice and ideals, indeed. All this suffering had come to pass by seeking to manifest ideals. “Kunikida, as long as you continue to eliminate those who would thwart your ideals in your quest for the ideal world, the flame of the Azure King still burns inside of you. And it will consume those around you. I have seen this happen many times before.”

There is no "but I'll still pursue my ideal!" in the original text. Kunikida said nothing in reply for he "understood what he said."

Now by the time Atsushi popped up, not much is shown about how exactly far Kunikida's disillusionment had gone. When he was picked up Kunikida proudly states that his schedule was "not just a schedule but his ideal" and from then we are given an impression of his drive.

We are only shown the truth starting with Kyouka's case and Atsushi's kidnapping.

There are already discussions on these scenes, but in the context of this essay thing with Meat and Potatoes what I want to point out is Kunikida's disenchantment. Also note that in both scenes, his facial expression is not shown. He only says these things out of defeat while his idealist self screams something else.

At this point, he has not reached Okamoto's level just yet, but it's possible that it won't take long for Kunikida to find himself in the same place.

It is Atsushi that woke him up from his nightmare.

What made that difference?

Atsushi wasn't abandoned by the Agency because of one thing: love. It's the very same thing that killed both Okamoto's and Kunikida's ideals.

But unlike Okamoto, Kunikida's ideals were not only born out of love but are one and the same; then following Kondo's reasoning, Kunikida's love, ideals, and life are all one and the same.

Here is another quote from Kondo:

"There are many types of boredom. Two of these are particularly tragic and hateful. With one, you weary of life and with the other you weary of love... The first is the most tragic and the second the most hateful."

The current manga arc (ch 104 is the latest release at the time of writing this) challenges Kunikida once more. Being a member of the Armed Detective Agency is difficult, and with all the death and near-death recently happening around him his will had taken several critical hits.

Had Kunikida grown weary of his lofty ideals, with means he's weary of both love and life, that his fate is tragic and hateful?

Fortunately, not at all.

He doesn't give up any of the three. "But what about life???" Well, I would say that here he does not lose life but rather his death. Idk how to explain to be honest, but in short it's rather that he sacrifices his physical life for the sake of living; that is not having a spiritual death. He is able to live his whole life following even only the shadow of the ideal - to him that is his goal anyway.

Kunikida overcomes Okamoto's plight of looking for "surprise" in the world as nothing interests him anymore.

"Life and death and all the phenomena of the universe become commonplace in the end."

He does not fall for this interpretation of Wordsworth's "Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting."

We can only hope for the best for him in the upcoming installments.

TL;DR: Kunikida is awesome and needs more love

#idk what i've been typing out ngl AHHAA #hana tries to sound smart #bsd #kunikida doppo #japanese literature #dazai osamu #bsd analysis

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