#but for some reason i was able to view it temporarily
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Imagineer Rolly Crump (February 27, 1930 – March 12, 2023) in "Disneyland's 10th Anniversary" from the anthology series Walt Disney's Wonderful World of Color, aired January 3, 1965
Roland "Rolly" Crump started his career at Disney as an animator in his 20s. The man who ran the animation department at the time of Crump's hiring reportedly told him years later that "what you showed us was the worst portfolio of anyone ever hired in animation."
His first three years as at WED Enterprises provided little interaction with Walt.
Crump: All I did was absorb. I watched how everyone reacted to Walt, and the strengths and the weaknesses of the different guys. I studied Walt Disney and what it was like to work with him, but I wasn't participating until after three years. That's when I started talking. I learned that if you show something to Walt, it has to be something he hasn't seen before.
He called the period working with Walt "the happiest time of my life."
Crump: It was a great job. You were thrilled to do what you were doing. I was, anyway.
Rolly Crump's strange, bold, chaotic, and graphic style stands out strongly among his Imagineering peers. With his distinct touch, Crump was able to create some of the most visually memorable iconography for Disneyland, including the façade of It's a Small World (based on Mary Blair's styling) and the tiki god and goddess statues in the Enchanted Tiki Room.
Always a man who was protective of artist identity and integrity, he would often refer to rides by their primary visionary. The Haunted Mansion was Yale Gracey's ride, It's a Small World was Mary Blair's.
Crump: I was given the job of kind of supervising It's a Small World. I knew it was only going to work if everything looked like Mary Blair. As far as I was concerned, this is a Mary Blair ride.
And had the Museum of the Weird been built, it would've been Rolly Crump's.
It started out with Crump creating drawings and concepts for the Haunted Mansion. All the strange objects he describes in the "10th Anniversary" episode are all ideas and visuals he came up with. His peers told him his ideas would be "too weird" for Walt but after a presentation to the boss, Crump found Walt sitting in his office chair the next morning.
Crump: The first thing he said to me was, "You son of a bitch. All that stuff you showed me yesterday? I couldn't sleep."
Crump: The next day, what happened was Walt came in and said, "OK, we're going to do a Museum of the Weird, that's where we're going to use all that funny stuff you showed me yesterday." All he had to do was go home and spend some time with himself and he'd come up with everything. He was a delight to work with... You never felt like you worked for Walt. You felt like you worked with Walt because that's the way he made you feel. He encouraged your creativity. He was part of the magic. He was part of everything we did.
Unfortunately, the project died with Walt. After his unexpected passing, the project was dropped.
Crump: Management didn't like it. Walt passed, and he took the museum with him. No one else wanted to fool with it.
But the Museum of the Weird lives on. Marvel created a comic book based on the attraction called Seekers of the Weird. The fortune teller character Crump designed, Madame Zarkov, is referenced in Big Thunder Mountain Railroad and was written into the the elaborate Easter egg SEA (the Society of Explorers and Adventurers, a fictional secret society incorporated in many Disney attractions to tie their lore). And the window on Main Street USA that honors Crump for his work features three of his most famous pieces: the Tower of the Four Winds from It's a Small World (built for the 1964 World's Fair and unfortunately torn down because it was too big to move to Disneyland), Maui from the Enchanted Tiki Room, and the coffin clock.
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#rolly crump#disneyedit#walt disney#imagineer#my gif#my edit#q#the chicago tribune article i linked is locked for subscribers only unfortunately#i'm not a subscriber to the chicago tribune#but for some reason i was able to view it temporarily#no idea how#i also had never heard of SEA until reading that sfgate article!
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Traditionally, the image of a figleaf was used by artists to cover the body parts (think Adam and Eve) that they were not supposed to show in their paintings. As I use the term, a figleaf is a communicative device that provides just a bit of cover for something that one isn’t supposed to show in public – like racism.
To see how this works, let’s first take a closer look at Trump’s call for a Muslim ban. Here is a statement, cast in the third person, that he read aloud in December 2015:
Donald J Trump is calling for a total and complete shutdown of Muslims entering the United States until our country’s representatives can figure out what the hell is going on.
The anti-Muslim message is loud and clear, and not hidden at all. But the end of the statement is the bit that I want to focus on: ‘until our country’s representatives can figure out what the hell is going on’. For some people, this phrase provided reassurance that Trump isn’t racist – because a real racist would want to ban Muslims period, not just while we figure out what’s going on. This is a figleaf: it provides just enough cover for the racism that isn’t acceptable to show in public.
One reason that figleaves like this work is that many white people accept what the sociolinguist Jane Hill called ‘the folk theory of racism’. This view sets a very high bar for what counts as racist: a racist has to consciously believe in the biological inferiority of people of colour, and intend to be racist. Somebody like this would want to ban Muslims forever, not just temporarily. Similarly, they wouldn’t suggest that ‘some’ Mexican immigrants are good people, as Trump did. Nor would they have a Black friend, or declare themself to be non-racist, this line of thinking goes.
A view such as this one makes it very easy for utterances to serve as figleaves for racism. These figleaves allow a voter to continue supporting a candidate who has made a comment that might have worried them. They don’t need to become fully convinced that the candidate is non-racist; it’s enough in many cases to be uncertain about whether the utterance indicates racism. When I examined discussions among Trump supporters online, I found people who worried about Trump’s views on Mexicans being reassured by those who pointed out that he also said some of them are good. ‘I didn’t hear him say anything racist against any race,’ one person posted. ‘What I did hear him say is, “Illegal Mexicans bring drugs, crime, and are rapists, but I’m sure some are good people.” Seriously, whats racist about that?’ Another Tweeted: ‘Trump is not racist … Trump is not against all mexicans just the illegals.’
Another classic form of figleaf involves reporting the words of others, either specifically (‘John Smith says…’) or in a vague, handwavy way (‘Lots of people are saying…’) This is a great way to avoid responsibility for what one is inserting into the discourse.
We see this technique in the British politician Enoch Powell’s infamous ‘Rivers of Blood’ speech in 1968, in which he described a constituent (a ‘quite ordinary working man’) as saying: ‘In this country in 15 or 20 years’ time the black man will have the whip hand over the white man.’ Reports like these help to normalise the sentiments expressed, while distancing the speaker from them.
Figleaves are not for everyone. Some people don’t need them: fully committed racists are happy with blatantly racist comments, no figleaves required. Many people won’t be convinced by them: antiracist activists, for example, will see right through the attempted reassurance. For others, though, they provide just what is needed – a licence to go on supporting the person they feel drawn to.
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The Great Flood of 1924 or 1927?aka, a bored trivia post
s1e05 has become the boogeyman of this fanbase for events that largely occur toward the very end of it, but the flood that leads to claudia’s makeshift burials being exposed is very fascinating in terms of chronology. it speaks to how amc iwtv only slightly shifts around history to situate its immortal characters deeply within the environment of a city thats largely viewed by many, including the source material itself, as an ahistorical pleasure garden with no past or present worth caring about.
from @diasdelfuego’s s1 timeline, we have already seen an example of how the show moves with its environment, altering the release date/place of jelly roll morton’s wolverine blues from 1923 indiana to 1917 new orleans [and it be a record the fictional lestat played a role in creating — lestat aiding in a notorious trickster’s story, one of the most oblique lies on louis’s end to make lestat look more sympathetic or one of the funniest historical movearounds on the showrunners’ end, who knows].
this great flood that brings the living situation in rue royale to a head for claudia is another one of them. when lestat and louis read claudia’s diaries, they discover how shes kept careful record of the people shes buried, killed, and mutilated. they interrogate her to ask where the bodies are, and only toward the end of the confrontation does she reveal where she buried them all.
LOUIS: Where are the bodies?
CLAUDIA: Chalmette. Now get out of my room!
LOUIS: Chalmette's three feet below the river line—
CLAUDIA: So what, get out of my room!
LOUIS: What happens when the next storm comes out the Gulf?
and sequenced near immediately, in classic amc iwtv didactic fashion, the next storm comes out the gulf and unburies the bodies claudia buried on very low-lying ground.
now, temporarily exiting the show and into reality, the true flood of southern louisiana in this period occurred in 1927, when the missisippi river valley experienced heavy rainfall.
where disaster stops, and where segregationist city engineers enter, is that bankers and business leaders in new orleans lobbied the governor to intentionally broke the levee outside of new orleans proper, and so he did, ensuring that the city itself would not be flooded, but flooded out much of the low-lying areas in st. bernard parish. remember chalmette? it is in st. bernard parish.
the subsequent conversation lestat + louis have with tom anderson confirm this even more, with tom describing the number of bodies, the 56 ‘floaters’ from the ninth ward [a neighborhood in new orleans that borders chalmette], all people who have been mutilated in some fashion.
tom anderson notes this as well:
Most of the poor fools they hooked out of the bayou are former inhabitants of the Quarter, so don't be too startled if the police come knockin' on your door.
indicating that most of the people claudia killed, mutilated, and buried there were the wealthy, white neighbors of the rue royale mansion and not residents of low-lying parishes that were seen as fodder by the state of louisiana. now why didnt lestat, who was able to hypnotize an entire room of soldiers in episode 3, hypnotize the 3-4 officers that came to inspect their mansion? questions, questions… (that have very obvious answers but are secondary to this post)
referring back to the s1 timeline linked, this great flood of 1927 was either moved up to 1924, matching the decision to move up + alter the creation of the wolverine blues in episode 3 for narrative reasons, and/or refers to the odyssey of recollection, aka., how keeping exact dates and recalling the numerous historical events u have lived under after 145 or so years of misery become difficult. this post is just a fun little trivia bit + something i found to be interesting
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Thank you for answering my last question! I have one more curious question; What if the mc was also a prisoner? Maybe she was framed for a murder and is completely innocent, just wrong place wrong time? And maybe the prison had to temporarily allow for mixed genders now due to the all female prison being overloaded? I don't know haha! Thank you again!
First up, I’m so sorry this has taken me so long! A combination of wanting to do this justice, but also not seeing it for the first few weeks. Tumblr is seriously bad at alerting me to messages!
Don would have played a big part in her defensive in court. Though he’s a prosecution lawyer, he wouldn’t have hesitated to cross the aisle to help her. So if the whole situation wasn’t bad enough, Reader now also has the guilt of seeing Don’s disillusionment with the law. After all, everyone who knows her knows she’s innocent. And now Don has to experience a corrupt prosecution up close.
She ends up in C Block where Red is. Not the same cell or even the same floor. There is still some effort to separate the prisoners. But all common spaces are joint now.
Red
Red was going to take a liking to Reader no matter. BUT let’s be clear, the reason Red is currently head over heels for Reader is because he can’t be physical with her and there’s a divide between them. It’s forcing him to view romantic interest in a different way.
In this new world, he’s more handsy, far flirtier and a hell of a lot more protective. He’d be enamoured, but after his normal campaign, he’d grow bored with the romance option. That’s just fine by Reader, who frankly is already going through enough to even consider starting a relationship.
However, Reader would become incredibly important to him (though he’s not sure why) and someone he must protect no matter what, like Edge and Sig. She would fall into the ‘family’ category in his head, for as long as they were in the prison. Maybe once they were out and free, he’d be able to see her again in a new light.
But for sure, from the moment they meet, Reader will have her own personal bodyguard, supplier of illegal prison goods, constant shadow, and wing man. Initially, this would be terrifying. But after a few months of it, once she realises no matter how outrageous a flirt he is, he’s not going to hurt her, she’ll be eternally grateful to him for everything he’s done for her.
Sans
Sans wants to get a bit of fresh air for once and goes out to the exercise yard. He sees Reader through the fence, with the other prisoners of C Block. Initially, he merely registers her existence and nothing more. He finds out who she is and whether she’s important or useful. She’s not, so he basically forgets about her for a while.
Until he’s reading newspapers and discovers her case. Now, for Sans to care, it must be Monster related. So, let’s say the crime she was convicted of was the murder of a Monster. Now she’s on Sans’s radar. The next time he sees her, he uses his Soul vision on her and…
And sees a Soul he’s almost instantly smitten with. She’s not a murderer, she’s an innocent. Sans can’t forgive the destruction of an innocent Soul, whether it be Human or Monster. Only the guilty should suffer.
Sans doesn’t have to work hard to speak to her. She loves books too, so she’s in the library whenever she can be. It’s one of the few times she’s free of Red, as he’s banned from the library after writing in the books and tearing out pages to wind up the librarian (cannon in my fic too, by the way).
Sans becomes Reader’s next best friend at the prison. Sans is calm and funny. Grumpy, but he feels safe. Safer than Red, definitely. Reader would be quicker to let Sans closer, they’re touching more than Reader would ever have initially allowed Red to touch her. As in my fic, Sans realizes his love slowly but completely. In fact, it’s easier when he can play the role of protector and mentor.
Now, all Sans has to do is figure out how to get her moved to B Block and away from Red…
Skull
Things are not going well for Skull. More and more medical staff refuse to treat him, or feed him. Errors are made with his magic suppressant medication because, frankly, keep a dangerous animal locked up for so long, people forget how dangerous they are.
Skull breaks out of his cell and goes on a wee bit of a rampage.
In fact, he gets so far as to run into the prison population. Monsters are mostly ignored, and humans are slaughtered. Suddenly, he sees Reader. Of all the skeletons, Skull is the one who really did experience love at first sight and it's true here too.
Reader, however, has just seen him tear someone’s arm off. So she’s not super thrilled to make his acquaintance. She’s as far back in the corner of the room as she can go, huddled up proactively, shaking, praying the guards are on their way.
He steps over slowly, scared that she’ll run away. It doesn’t really occur to him that being covered in blood is perhaps off-putting.
He kneels near her, watching her Soul panic and wanting to help. He reaches out, carefully, and slowly strokes her head. Shh. Shh. Shh.
That’s how the prison guards find them. The security footage can’t be argued with. In the middle of an uncontrolled blind rage, Skull stopped everything to sit with the Reader and stroke her head.
And… well… guess who’s just become Skull’s new caretaker?
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The whole story of Tamlin betraying Rhysands sister to his father seems a bit weird, and not a "Tamlin would never" sense. I don't remember all the details, but it's strange that Rhys revealed precise whereabouts of his mother and sister. Again not in a "he should have known better than to share", just...how did it come up in the conversation? It was supposed to be some camp or a road to a camp deep in Illyria so he would have had to be fairly specific for Tamlin's father to be able to locate the place based on the description, and I can't really think of a reason to go into that many details in a conversation with a friend about a meeting place with a third party where said friend is not expected to also be. Especially if it's supposed to be secret.
It's either Tamlin pried Rhys for details with an explicit purpose of using them later, which is unlikely, or...
What are your thoughts about this whole storyline? Do you think we will ever get a (convoluted SJM style) explanation of the events from Tamlin's point of view?
*sighs*
This whole storyline makes no sense whatsoever.
Especially in the broader context of the story. So before diving into what exactly happened, we need some backstory.
Per canon, Tamlin's father and brothers were highly abusive--worse than Beron--and Tamlin despised them all for being abusive and for their anti-human bigotry and for their slave ownership.
Per canon, Tamlin and Rhysand were close friends for a period of time.
And per canon, Tamlin is very loyal to his friends--taking Lucien in, for example, and protecting him from Beron and his older brothers despite the political liabilities of sheltering another High Lord's son.
So... we're meant to believe that a prince who is decidedly loyal to his friends and vehemently hates his abusive bigoted family one day decides to betray his friend for his abusive bigoted family???
And like. Why. Why does he do this. Yes it's part of ACOMAFs "he was evil all along he just wore a mask in ACOTAR to make Feyre love him" schtick, but it still falls flat. Even at his most evil in the trilogy Tamlin still hates slavery and hates his abusive father, so... Did Tamlin temporarily forgive slavery and bigotry and decide to kiss up to his dad by killing Rhysand's family? Did he magically forgive and forget his father and brother's abuse to go along with concocting an evil scheme with them? Did Sarah think this through at all???
It makes no sense that he'd betray a friend for his abusers in the first place, much less specifically pester Rhysand for information to give his father and brothers an exact location to find Rhysand's mother and sister. And as you mentioned, why wouldn't Rhysand find giving out specific information suspicious? Unless Rhysand simply referred Tamlin to a specific, secret place they both ALREADY knew of in the Night Court, which again implies that he and Tamlin were incredibly close and that they hung out a lot together, and undermines ACOMAF's assertion that he'd happily ruin a close friendship to play nice with his abusers. It's just... bizarre. It doesn't make sense.
And no, I don't think we'll ever get a Tamlin POV of the situation, because it'd further complicate things. With the established information we have on Tamlin's family dynamic, Sarah can't make this storyline make sense unless she (yet again) retcons something.
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Hi Pia! You said that you need another vacation after this vacation, so I am not sure, how puppy situation, even if it partual custudy, affecting you ( may be you in panic when he is there and then recovering when he is not, and then round and round? ), but really, If you need another vacation, I hope you know we will be here to support you for it!
It's been nearly 4 weeks now since we got Toby so I feel like I can talk about this with a bit of a clear head.
(Talk of like an actual PTSD meltdown beneath the read-more, including self-harm mention - nothing graphic. There's zero obligation for anyone to read this, especially for folks who don't think authors should ever be honest about being people with issues):
So, I've been kind of quiet about aspects of this, but I have like severe treatment-resistant PTSD and C-PTSD, and puppies specifically are one of my triggers (especially if I'm responsible for them). The reason for that is kind of awful, and I don't really want to talk about some of the things I've experienced/been through that led to that, so let's just move onto the next part. You're kind of right anon, there has been panic while he is here lol.
As a result, I had a severe meltdown the first time I tried to adopt a dog many years ago now. Could not last 24 hours, needed weeks/months to recover.
But I've always wanted to share my life with a dog and I've been in a somewhat better space over the past year or so, and I thought I could maybe handle it better. I told myself 'if I can just get through that 24 hours I'll realise it's okay and it will all work out.' Anon I cannot tell you where this thinking came from, but it was wrong. Idk why past me was kind of naive enough to think this way but here we are.
No, after that 24 hours, it got temporarily better, and then I slammed into consecutive meltdowns, each one worse than the next, until the people around me were afraid for my life. I am still recovering from some of the harm I inflicted on myself during the last three weeks and likely will be for some time to come. The combination of a really intense PTSD relapse, as well as not being able to handle (as an AuDHD person) intense changes to my schedule basically compounded and I broke.
I made the decision to rehome Toby, and first contacted the people around me. Glen's mum said she wanted a dog, and had been specifically looking into dogs like Toby anyway, and so we decided this would be best because then I could still be involved (I love Toby to pieces).
After getting some space, I finally started to adjust, and have gone back to having Toby about 4~ days a week, with a view to going to about 6 days, with one day spent with my mum, or Glen's mum.
Today is the first day I was able to handle having him on my own for around 9.5 hours. And I'm here and able to write about it, so that's progress. He'll be here all day Sunday, and then Tues-Weds-Thurs-Friday. And from there a decision will be made as to where I'm at with my mental health etc.
I'm a bit more hopeful now that I might be able to keep him, but my PTSD is still very very bad. I'm having some nights where I'm simply not sleeping until 7.30am (even if he's not here), and my hypervigilance is crazy. Like, I am having so many auditory flashbacks it's stupid. So this is why I've been saying this break hasn't been very restful or productive. Because my mental health tanked like I detonated a landmine inside myself.
I didn't actually plan the two week break for Toby! That was just a coincidence honestly.
Unfortunately I have a lot of health conditions that respond very poorly to stress, so I'm dealing with those now too. And then additionally, in all of this, I had a breast scan / mammogram / ultrasound that has confirmed a suspicious lump I found a couple of months ago (breast cancer runs in the family), and I suspect I'm going to need a biopsy. I'll find out on Monday if that's the case. That's been in the background and hasn't been helping.
There's some other stuff going on that's not really worth talking about because these are the main things, but that's a good picture I think. It turns out 'just getting through the first 24 hours' doesn't magically make a severe PTSD trigger go away. And that forced exposure is not 'exposure therapy' - that's just reinforcing a trigger.
Anyway! I feel like I'm through the worst of it, and I am seeing glimpses of how my life could be richer if I keep getting through this. But...that's why I think another break. *smiles tiredly.* I have to wait a bit now for the PTSD / C-PTSD symptoms to settle down, and I also need to see what's kind of worsened after this. Realistically, with a relapse to this degree, it could take between 3-6 months to really start recovering, or to at least get back to where I was before December.
I hope with all my heart I can get there with Toby by my side. I love him so much.
(I want to add that Toby has never ever been in a position of harm at any point, and in fact I probably put myself in harm's way for his sake, because I wanted to provide solid continuity of care - in case anyone was worried about that).
Er so yeah! But I've picked up my writing again this week and have been able to do some like...things I'd been neglecting, and I feel more human again, I just hope I get some sleep tonight
#asks and answers#personal#tobermory the cavoodle#that's also why i haven't always consistently been sharing photos#realistically he's spent about 4 days away from us?#and that alone has been enough to kind of help me sort my head out#when i realised it was PTSD that helped too#because i've been able to spot the severe hypervigilance for what it is#and sometimes just being able to name a thing helps#and finally intensive training with toby#has adjusted some of his behaviours very quickly#and he is now a very calm and well-behaved dog already#we just need to do more separation training and then i think i will finally start#settling a bit more#our vet's super happy with where he's at#but...um...you know it's never nice to make your mum cry#because she's scared for you :(#administrator gwyn wants this in the queue
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I don't understand, what did Lucas mean when he said that Padmé could never fall in love or live with Anakin because he was rationalizing what he was doing?
George Lucas tells us, people are doing evil things because they're controlled by their anger, hatred and aggression, all coming out of fear. This is the dark side, part of all that lives. What George Lucas means by saying, Padmé could never fall in love or live with Anakin because he is far too gone, because he is at a point where he was rationalizing what he was doing, it's that there is a categorical difference between someone being overwhelmed by his dark side resulting in terrible deeds that he, when these feelings and emotions are wearing off, becomes ashamed by and genuinely regrets, and someone ending up being ruled by his dark side to the extent where he believes, his horrible actions are justified.
Anakin become attached to the people he loved, which means, he felt that he would be unhappy without them being in his life, which always interlocked with the desire to avoid them leaving his life: the inability to let coming and passing things to come and go, grasping, clinging, grabbing, holding on to things, trying to have, to possess. That's attachment. Once he became attached to Shmi and Padmé, he became afraid of losing them. In Attack of the Clones, when his mother was killed by the Tuskens, his mind was flooded by anger over losing her, the anger over being robbed from the source of his happiness, and it resulted in revenge. His angry mind tricked him into seeing the situation as narrow, limited, exaggerated, permanent, and from that point of view, massacring the entire Tusken camp was an appropriate response. But when this storm of anger wore off, his point of view widened again, and he realized, he had done a horrible thing and he was ashamed and tormented by it.
Humans are like the sky. We always have our light side, the clear sky, and the dark side, the storm clouds within ourselves. When the dark clouds are taking over, there is a storm, but when the sky is cleared, we are fine. The sky itself didn't become less bright or tainted with dark. What people struggle to understand is that after the Tusken massacre, Anakin didn't change. He didn't become less good, there was no stain on him. When the storm clouds went away, he was his old self once again. This is why Padmé is able to stay by his side and this is what allows her to console him by telling him, "to be angry is to be human." And this is the same reason why Luke is able to bring him back in Episode VI. You're not either this or that. Whether or not you are a "good person" doesn't depend on whether or not you abstained from certain actions in your life, that is a very legalistic approach to this. You're a "bad person" when your "bad side" is in charge and you are a "good person" when your "bad side" is under control. Padmé fell in love with the version of Anakin who has some trouble with keeping his storm clouds under check, but who is trying to tame them and to keep his sky clear. The lesson here is that the idea that people have some kind of essential quality that either prevents them from doing evil things or making them prone to commit horrible acts, is false. It's like the proverb about the good wolf and the bad wolf within you, and fighting to control you, and the one you feed the one who will prevail. In Episode II, the bad wolf temporarily got the upper hand because it was feeding on Anakin's attachment to Shmi, and it grow stronger, feeding on Anakin's attachment to Padmé.
In Revenge of the Sith, however, when Anakin realized that Padmé was going to die, his mind become characterized by fearful grasping: his fear of losing her, the fear of losing the happiness she means to him, and wanting to prevent that loss to happen with him, and he ended up in a state where he told Darth Sidious, "I will do whatever you ask. Just help me save Padmé's life. I can't live without her." And when he was ordered to murder the Jedi, he did it. He was still sad about it, he didn't enjoy it, but his greed - fear of losing the things he loves - has taken over to the extent that he said, it's justified. And when he has a brief moment of realization, understanding that he is lying to himself, he concludes, there is no way to go back, he can only go further on this path, even he doesn't necessarily agree with it. Padmé could never fall in love with this version of Anakin, the person who he is in Episode III, nor she could live with him. Because there was a shift. "You have changed" she tells him, and she is right. There is no longer an effort there to clear the sky, because he got stuck in the storm, in the narrow, self-centered, limited and exaggerated point view, and he says himself, "from my point of view, the Jedi are evil" and whatever he was doing was completely righteous. He is no longer Anakin Skywalker of the clear sky trying to keep the clouds in check, he is Darth Vader of the storm, consuming the clear sky. Sure, there are patches of clear sky there, in the same way there were patches of dark clouds on the clear sky, there is a potential for him to turn the tide, this is why he comes out of the storm in Episode VI, but in Episode III and IV and V, the dominant side of him is no longer the light side, but the dark side. The bad wolf is crushing the good wolf to the ground, so to speak, he is in charge now, and he won't admit that he is doing anything wrong. Padmé is loyal to the good wolf, she's in love with the good wolf, even if he's struggling to keep the bad one down, but she can't fall in love or live with the bad wolf.
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Hiii, what do you think about yandere flashy flash? Opm fandom
Flashy Flash is one of those yanderes that is/appears incredibly cold towards his Darling. Given that the Ninja Village trains its child soldiers out of having any emotion, it's no surprise that he can't really express them when they start to creep up inside him. Part of the reason he IS so cold towards Darling specifically is because he isn't used to emotions stirring in him for very long--they appear for...well, a flash, and then his training automatically has him push it down.
He isn't even sure what sparked this fixation on his Darling, and that's why he's so concerned and dislikes having these feelings in the first place. All he knows is that he wants them close and it's not just from a tactical standpoint.
He'd start to spend his free time stalking them and with his abilities, it's pathetically easy. He installed some cameras and bugs to record them and watch them from afar on his phone whenever he can't take time out to go to their home. He'll slip inside (even when they're inside the house, since he won't be caught) and if he's feeling indulgent he'll steal an item or two to keep as a memento.
He'll also do kind things for them out of the blue, always anonymously. For example: If he hears them complain about forgetting something at work, it'll magically appear on the foot of their bed at the end of the night. He feels like this is the closest he can get to "courtship" until he decides to take things further and decides what he really wants from them.
He always takes jobs within Darling's city whenever he can and gets a rush of satisfaction when he catches a glimpse of them watching him in action while he cuts down Monsters with ease.
When he decides that he wants to explore these feelings instead of pushing them down for once, he'd carry out his plan with his usual ruthless efficiency. He'd kidnap them and bring them to his place, explaining why he took them and what their new "rules" will be around their new home. He already implanted a tracking chip into their body and placed a collar around their neck to keep them from running away, and he calmly restrains them if they try to fight back.
He grows to be affectionate and even warm after kidnapping them. Now that he's accepted his obsession/feelings, he slowly gets more comfortable expressing those feelings and acting on them. He'll absentmindedly play with their hair, greet and leave them with a kiss, etc.
Whenever he initiates sex, he doesn't let on that he has no experience at all. If you call him out on that you might fluster him for a moment, but he'll quickly recover and turn the tables; now you're helpless after he pinches a nerve to temporarily immobilize you while he runs his hands and mouth over your body.
He's more on the dubcon side than full on noncon. He'd try to seduce them and kiss and caress away their protests, but he'll get irritated if they keep pulling away and will immobilize them like I mentioned before. He always makes them feel good, doesn't he? He protects them, makes sure they want for nothing, and he's shown them more vulnerability than he's EVER shown anyone. If he's able to feel love, he knows that's what he feels for them. So let him show that love. Let him make that love with you.
Loves when you play with his hair but isn't the type to request it. He also enjoys the mundane things he gets to do with you: brushing their hair, bathing, sharing meals, sleeping, dressing and undressing, etc. He doesn't sleep more than 6 hours and he typically stays awake for 3 days at a time (an old habit drilled into him during his childhood), so he views sleeping alongside Darling as a treat. He also feels relaxed whenever he watches them sleep and does it a lot.
He doesn't like bringing them out in public, but only because he doesn't want them to be swarmed by fans or paparazzi. He's confident that he can handle any threat to Darling's safety and he knows he can keep them from escaping if they were foolish enough to run or call for help.
He wishes he could tell Darling his name, but he doesn't remember what it was/is. So he requests they call him Flash. As far as what he calls them, he typically just uses their name; notably though, he'll use more affectionate and informal language when speaking to them in Japanese. By his standards that's basically sweetheart talk lol.
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Angel (Chapter 4)
Pairings: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!OC!Reader
Summary: When simon's mission went terrible wrong, she was there to save him. So far only her call sign was angel, but maybe she was his angel nonetheless.
Ghost stretched his index finger to her collarbone. He didn't wanted to touch her, but his finger ran over her skin just seconds after the thought.
Warnings: Mention of blood, mention of torture, manipulation, brainwash, weapons, kidnapping, swearing, smut (kind of) in later chapters, mention of medical stuff that may not be true or accurate, description of a reader that may not be like you imagined reader, still use of Y/N, clearly female reader, perhaps bad english, third person view (switching from reader to Simon), multiple chapters
Opening
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 5
He could feel her nervousness across the room. Now that all she could do was wait. She was like a mouse under his gaze, though she couldn't see through his sunglasses if he was looking at her or not. When he sat down next to her on the couch, she got up and went to the pot on the stove to spoon the soup onto a plate. She had brought him one of the plates with the reason that he should have food in his stomach for the medication she had selected for him. When he only accepted her kind gesture critically, she took the suitcase that had been standing next to the sofa and inspected the contents at the kitchen table.
He was strict with her, he knew that. She'd done more for him than some of his teammates would ever have done, but helpfulness was a form of manipulation he couldn't risk.
When Zakir came back he had joined Angel at the table. Since the open space wasn't particularly large and the sofa had its back almost directly to the dining table Angel was leaning against, Ghost could hear almost the entire conversation. Zakir told her that the car was in the garage for the time being and was temporarily hidden from prying eyes, but warned her that there was almost no gas left and she wouldn't be able to go back without contacting someone else.
If only she knew she wasn't going back to being a wife for now, Ghost thought, shoving the last spoonful of soup into his mouth while Angel wasn't sitting next to him. He pulled the mask back over his mouth, once again hiding his face.
"How long will you stay?" Zakir asked and a tense breath left Angel's lips. Ghost couldn't see her expression as his back was to her.
"Only as long as you would risk it for us." Was Angel's reply and Ghost wondered how much longer he should wait to contact his captain.
Zakir thought for a while. "Ivanov will be stubborn. After all, his angel is missing. Your friend there will be in trouble not only because he escaped, but mainly because it seems like he's taken you hostage."
"I know." Angel sighed. "I need a maximum of 3 days." She sounded like she was begging for those 3 days. Ghost wondered how she would look begging and almost turned around.
Zakir's voice grew quieter. "I hope you don't go back to him again, Y/N. You managed to escape, stay here until he loses track of you and you can be free."
"Yeah, i know." Whispered Angel. It was so delicate and quiet that Ghost almost didn't hear it over the crackling of the fire.
"Upstairs is the surveillance system for the property. I'll be keeping an eye on everything through the night, but as long as no one's been following you it should be safe for the next few days. I'm up the stairs, the door to the right if you're looking for me. You're free to roam around, but I recommend you sleep. You've got a rocky road ahead of you." Explained Zakir. Then Ghost could hear the creaking of the wooden stairs as the man disappeared to the upper floor.
Angel went back to Ghost and pointed to the things she had previously dug out of the backpack and placed on the side table next to the sofa. "You should take care of your wounds again, Ghost. Especially the one on your leg. The sooner we treat the injured muscle, the less damage you will suffer from it."
Ghost didn't answer her. It wasn't that he didn't wanted to, he wanted to see her reaction. How quickly her nice side could change. After all, she was a soldier once and they would never have had such a soft side as Angel made it out to be.
Instead of getting unpleasant, she had grabbed some medication from the small pile on the side table and held it out to him. "It's for the pain if it gets too bad. You should wait a while before taking any though. At least until I get another diagnosis. But you can take this one, it's anti-inflammatories. One pill every 8 hours."
He took the two packages from her. He almost felt like he was with a real doctor. But she hadn't done more, not even the diagnosis that she had previously announced. She had taken a box of plasters herself and stood by the mirror that was hanging on the wall next to the front door. She took a plaster and stuck it over the laceration on her forehead.
Ghost watched as she inspected her dark circles under her eyes and then pulled the hair tie out of her hair to tie a new braid with all the escaped hair stuck back in. For the first time he eyed her properly.
She was young, so young. Her blue eyes looked almost black in the reflection of the mirror. She was thin and small and delicate. Her skin was covered with freckles. The darker spots were visible not only on her nose, but also on her arms up to her shoulder blades. Her black top was still slightly damp and clung tightly to her skin. Ghost could see almost every curve in her body and he understood why Ivanov wanted her.
Did her new name came from her looks?
Reluctantly, his eyes left the young woman and landed back on the medication in his hand. He got up slowly and walked to the dining table on which the water bottle was standing. His leg hurted when he walked. He had almost no adrenaline in his blood, unlike on missions where he was constantly on adrenaline and the pain was numb.
He swallowed the pill as Angel had told him to, then went back to the side table where the rest of the things were sitting. Angel had picked out various bandages and bottles that Ghost had made acquaintance with on a number of occasions, but was not particularly good at handling.
The soldier grabbed his glasses and removed them from his face. After that came the first layer of his uniform, his vest. The clips on the edge were quickly undone and the vest slipped off his shoulders, followed by the jacket. He put everything on the sofa. When he was down to his t-shirt, he grabbed the collar at the back of his neck and pulled the rest of the fabric over his head as well. Everything was covered in blood, most of it was his own.
Ghost removed the plaster from his arm. The gunshot wound was carefully stitched and cleaned. He figured the wound was probably getting better care than from the fierce field doctor, Dr. Reaser, who accompanied the SAS on missions.
Then he removed the patch on his stomach. The spot was provided with many more stitches. However, nothing was bleeding there either, or was bloodshot. The big bruises on his ribs from the punches Nika had given him looked far more dangerous than the small seam on his hip.
"Do you-" Started Angel and Ghost lifted his gaze. The redhead had taken a few steps towards him. She still kept her distance from him. "Do you have broken ribs?" She asked. There was something like concern in her eyes. Her gaze was focused on his torso. Ghost, on the other hand, only noticed the extreme size difference between Angel and himself.
"May I?" she asked cautiously, pointing to his chest. Ghost's silence didn't deter her from walking closer to him and putting a hand on his ribs. "Are you having trouble breathing?" She asked, to which Ghost just shook his head. Angel had looked up at him for the first time to study his silent gesture. Her skin was much whiter, almost porcelain colored, without the dark lenses of his sunglasses, and the blue of her eyes was much more brighter.
She ran her fingertips over his ribs. Her touch was cautious. "It just had to be a bad bruise. At most a sprained rib. Let me know if the pain gets worse."
"Why are you so worried about my condition?" Ghost needed more answers.
Angel lifted her left shoulder to her ear in an appraising gesture. "I guess I'm doing it more for me than for you. I couldn't stand to see another broken soul caused by Ivanov, when it's too late to save them... Ever since I got this tattoo-" she raised her hand with the tattooed ring on it. "-every human being killed by Ivanov died because I haven't stopped him. Every day there's more blood on my hands." She looked into his eyes as if seeking a spark of sympathy in them. But Ghost forbade any reaction to her explanation.
"Why didn't you contact us? We could have found him and stopped him." Ghost accused her and her eyebrows drew together.
She took a few steps away from him as if she couldn't bear to be near him. "Have you ever been taken hostage, Ghost?" The question surprised Ghost. He was already in bad situations where he was surrounded by enemies and he only got out of it fighting. But he was never really taken hostage.
Angel seemed to read Ghost's mind as she raised her hand in a pointing gesture as if to say, "See, you have no idea what my situation is like." It was true, he didn't know.
"I want you to do something for me when you get back to England." She now said emphatically. She didn't gave Ghost time to reply. "Find my grave. Put some flowers down. And when someone speaks to you, reply with the current date and time."
"Why should I do that?" Ghost didn't know if it was a trap. Whether Ivanov's real attack began when he was back at England. Or if Angel's behaviour was part of Ivanov's manipulation techniques. "Why don't you do it?"
"I can't. I have to get Max out." she explained. Then she sighed and went to Ghost. She put her hand on his forearm and her eyes bored into his. "I beg you, Ghost. You are my only hope; you are my only salvation." He saw in her eyes how broken she was: how she wanted to kneel down in front of him just to ask him for the favor. "You'll get all your answers, I promise." She said now and exerted a light pressure on his arm before her fingertips detached from his skin.
Ghost seriously considered whether he should comply with her request or even answer at all, but she straightened her shoulders and the sad glint in her eyes faded. She changed the subject so quickly that Ghost felt momentarily dizzy. "Let me see your leg again. If everything is okay there too, I'll leave you alone."
As if in a trance, he sat down on the sofa. He was able to push his trouser leg up to the stab wound after removing the old bandage so that he didn't have to take off his pants completely. Angel knelt in front of him and carefully put her hand on his leg for support. With the other she felt his leg up and down to see if he still felt everything and he suffered no nerve damage.
Ghost watched her sit between his legs. She didn't looked at him, but she stretched across his left thigh to get to the bandage on the side table. He saw her cleavage as she knelt in front of him. A chain hung around her neck, the pendant disappearing between her breasts and under her top. She had several birthmarks on her delicate skin, but mostly scars. Two large scars each under her collarbones. One left, the other right. Another scar ran from her wrist to her elbow. The last scar Ghost noticed was on her forehead, just above her eyebrow. It was a distinct indentation in the skin, about an inch long. It had to be where the crowbar hit her.
"Where did you get the scars from?" His voice seemed to startle her, or it was his question that made her shrug tensely.
She clipped the new bandage together and then looked up at him. She didn't left her place between his legs. "Which?" She asked.
Ghost stretched his index finger to her collarbone. He didn't wanted to touch her, but his finger ran over her skin just seconds after the thought. "This."
Angel inhaled audibly. "Manipulation doesn't work without torture. At least not the kind that Ivanov uses."
"How long?" Ghost wasn't sure if he really wanted to know the answer.
Angel shrugged again. "The others lasted 3 weeks, Max and I were worked on by Ivanov's henchmen for 29 days." Her hand went to where Ghost had touched the scar. "I know what their methods are. That's why I can't leave Max behind. They would let him go through hell again. And he won't make it again."
This time she straightened up and looked down at Ghost. He had to lean his back against the back of the sofa to avoid being at eye level with her chest. "I know you'll most likely want to take me back to your base. But I'm asking you not to tell anyone about me. If the spy at the SAS finds out that I helped you, they'll kill me before I can get Max out and surely they'll take you back to make you on of their brainwashed soldiers. And that is worse than being killed."
Her jeans were wrapped tightly around her legs. She was far too skinny for someone with military training. Her muscles weren't particularly developed, but then again, there wasn't much fat on her either. Ivanov probably starved her into a model figure. Ghost's eyes continued to travel up her body until he was back at her face. She had seen his wandering eyes carefully, after all he was no longer wearing his glasses. She put her hands on her hips, waiting for his next words. "How do you know I'm not the traitor?"
She bit her bottom lip in thought for a few seconds before a smile spread across her lips that she tried to hold back. "Ghost." She said his call sign. Her voice was soft. "How do you know I don't work for Ivanov?" She voiced the question Ghost had been asking himself all along.
#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost mw2#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#call of duty#cod x oc#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#price mw2#soap mw2#cod mwii#simon x reader#könig mw2#simon ghost riley x female oc
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Hi, aj!
Hope you are having an amazing weekend!
I was meaning to ask you, and it is a sad question, how do you think that Grissom actually asked Sara for the divorce? I mean, in my head I really hope they met after his phone call, because my heart can't believe he just ended their marriage over the phone...
hi, anon!
i have a couple of old posts that conjecture on the conversations surrounding the divorce here and here, if you're interested.
as for the issue of whether or not grissom and sara ever see each other in person during the divorce process after that initial phone call, honestly, for as much as i hate the idea of their marriage ending sans any in-person contact between them beyond just hating the idea of their marriage ending in itself, i have to say: i think that if they were to see each other at any point prior to the legal papers being finalized, they ultimately wouldn't be able to go through with finalizing them.
for one thing, the whole reason why they divorce in the first place is because they're both too afraid to even stand in each other's presence after a few months spent incommunicado.
that so, if either party were brave enough to go to where the other party was in person, i have to imagine they probably never would have gotten to the point of divorce to begin with.
the whole situation is a product of a very specific "i can't stand to look him/her in the eyes and possibly see loathing where there used to be love" kind of cowardice.
to my mind, that fear wouldn't abate once the divorce proceedings began; it would only intensify.
for another thing, even supposing that grissom were somehow to muster the courage to come home to the states to see the proceedings out in person, i have to believe that the moment he recognized the look of absolute heartache in sara's big, brown eyes, he would have second-guessed his whole "i have to 'set her free' for her own good" assumption and said or done something to show sara he still loved her, tipping his hand, so to speak.
he has never been able to stand idly by when sara is sad. it activates his "white knight" instinct like nothing else does.
and had sara seen some sign or gesture from grissom demonstrating he still loved her, then i have to believe she would have been willing to put her heart on the line and try to talk things through with him.
and once they both realized they were still in love with each other and both wanted to be together, they wouldn't have wanted to pursue the divorce anymore. either sara would have left vegas to go live with grissom abroad or he would have moved back to the states to live with her at home. the whole crisis would have been averted if they just could have seen each other in person and gotten a read on each other's body language and expressions.
the distance was always the problem; never a true lack of love.
that so.
if we accept the bullshit premise of the divorce itself (which of course, i personally don't), then the only way it conceivably happens is with them having a barrier of several thousand miles and multiple time zones between them, with all of their communication happening via phone and email.
grissom can't cross that threshold to "come home," even temporarily, or else the whole scenario unravels.
the whole thing has to be predicated on them being physically and relationally far enough away from each other that they just continuously misread each other's signals.
—or at least that's how i view things.
ymmv, of course.
thanks for the question! please feel welcome to send another any time.
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swarm: s1 ep 6 (spoilers!) review
+an analysis on dre’s relationships thus far
this episode has some of the most revealing content yet is also my least favorite episode, and i like most of them so far. we are given insight into dre’s family life, down to her full name and child relationship to marissa, and just how codependent she became toward marissa even after their parents had given dre up.
we also have a more nuanced take on patricia now that harris is out of the picture and is no long controlling the household and thus patricia’s perceptions of andrea, which is an amazing detail bc it allows patricia to say how she truly loved dre and wanted to help her, but a fear for marissa’s safety and disobeying harris kept her from nurturing dre the way she needed, “othering” her the way everyone except marissa did.
this also shows so strongly why ni’jah is viewed as a motherly figure. she’s everything that can be replaced in patricia, who was emotionally neglecting her through her complacency in harris’s subjugation of dre. patricia does not guide her emotionally or intellectually, so dre looks to a famous singer she idolized as a child for that very bond…which unlike her parents, can never actually leave her or isolate her, even if ni’jah also cannot respond.
it is “safer” for her to love someone who cannot say they don’t love you back, rather than attempting to facilitate that love and having it rejected. the only person dre has been able to facilitate this with is marissa who did often support her emotionally, so it is a physical drain to her the moment marissa wants to leave and be with khalid, both because she can’t handle dre’s codependency anymore and wants a life outside of her.
but dre is also so wrapped up in marissa, it is not until marissa dies that dre becomes incredibly hypersexual—likely trying to imitate marissa to model after her, not because she actually desires the guys she encounters. she is incredibly averse when men try to objectify her, and does not at all seem to care for their sexual validation outside of the “status” it temporarily gives her, feeling as empowered and in control as she thought marissa was.
despite the fact marissa succumbing to her depression reveals this could have been heavily exaggerated or not true to marissa as a person. marissa was incredibly in love with khalid to the point she felt she could not live without him, and really she herself is this “othered” depiction of mental illness she had been hiding for so long people saw in dre. people saw dre’s symptoms, said she was bad, and that’s what she “became.”
people saw them again, validated the belief that marissa was nothing like her, and so marissa heavily repressed her depression from everyone except dre—and marissa this empathizes with dre’s mental issues because she knows what it feels like. she tries to boosts dre’s confidence, because she knows what it was like to be at her lowest and doesn’t want dre falling to that.
no one would expect khalid’s cheating would be the breaking point—except dre, who couldn’t predict but had reason to think khalid was the direct cause, and not just a contributing factor, just like her need to care for dre, her parents stigma toward mental illness, etc,. in so many ways, marissa was trapped into the high expectations people held her to—so she breaks when she realizes doing all of it was really worth nothing—because khalid did not truly love her. he was likely the only person who was not putting her into this “perfect” box like everyone else, so when she no longer has him, she feels as if the world has given up on her entirely.
dre does not at all comprehend the fact that marissa was very different from who she periceved her as. she is doing whatever she thinks her “cool girl” archetype of marissa would do, trying to capture the feeling of confidence marissa evoked—which dre can only do when copying marissa’s behaviors or supporting ni’jah, as this is dre at her most outspoken. this often falls short, because she can never be marissa, who conditioned herself to behave in such a way that it became natural without feeling awkward.
and back to the biting at the party…i immediately saw the lighting for ni’jah and that was the moment i felt she was being used as a mainly motherly figure, and it was true. dre so deeply craves any sort of maternal intimacy patricia clearly never gave her, so she doesn’t know how to express that appropriately. she has given up on patricia or any sort of older woman in her life being able to nurture her properly, so she forced ni’jah into that role. and when marissa passes, she is of the belief no one can replace her, and therefore refuses to form any meaningful connections to women who are trying to form a space of security for her.
however—i feel the detective portion is way too long, and as a result the episode relies way too heavily on social media as compared to how initially the show would do it to only where needed. it was better when social media was used only as an agent for dre’s killings + showing how the loss of marissa has gotten so hard on her, she behaves as if marissa is still alive and lets it run her entire life.
too much is heard about the detective’s life, and i feel it could’ve been better to introduce her to the plot briefly, reduce those “aha” clips to local news articles, and do a sort of pulp fiction thing where she appears slowly (like the antagonists) but her role becomes more frequent.
but i so appreciate that they have a black woman in the criminal justice system who can easier empathize with the intersection between mental illness + dre never feeling like the “normal” black girl in an affluent community people thought marissa was, which highlights all the more why dre’s entire personality after marissa’s death is molded after her so incredibly quick, and in little increments throughout the season even when she’s playing more of a “damsel in distress” to get others to believe through her fashion choices.
however i think the portion with patricia’s interview is vital to giving more info on dre, as is the girl dre stabbed when they were kids. in general we are introduced to new characters way too quickly, whereas it fell seamlessly into place in previous episodes. but the underlying concept is very well done and the strongest parts of the episode are patricia’s interview.
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The Last to Spare
18+ CONTENT AHEAD MINORS DNI
❀pairing: Natsuo Todoroki × afab!reader (no pronouns used)
❀ warnings: fantasy au, death mention, grief/loss, guilt, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, slight temperature play, overstimulation
❀word count: 5.8k
❀summary: “A village that's immune to time”, or so they say…Not many have traveled far within it to see the frozenly preserved people of said village and the flower that's responsible for their state—but for some reason you think you'll be able to.
❀a/n: Wrote this cuz Natsuo and I share the same birthday, and are now the same age😝twinnem👯. I was doing research on Japanese alpine flowers for this fic even though they’re not that relevant🧑🔬…
It's been a week since your eyes glazed over at the sight of your sickly childhood friend, and since then you’ve vowed to make it the last time you’d sit by idly as they wither away to an unknown illness.
They’ll die before they’re treated at this rate, but the solution to their strife lies in a land that you've only ever heard of through rumors. And while it isn't promising, neither is waiting for a miracle.
“A village that's immune to time”, or so people say.…Not many have traveled far within it to see the frozenly preserved people of said village and the flower that's responsible for their state, but for some reason you think you'll be able to.
Yes, for as long as your loved one wrestles an undetermined fate, you’ll decide to go beyond it. You'll fight with your being to reach this source of cryogenic immortality, and you'll pluck enough of its stems to last you a lifetime.
The wind that passes through the mountains is icy and unforgiving, its frost settles across your eyelashes to make them heavy and glistening under the sliver of sun that still protrudes from the clouds.
Your muscles are nearly solid despite the layers of animal hides and fur that cloak your body.
According to word of mouth, you may have another few miles of relatively tame snowfall compared to what awaits. The turbulent path ahead diverts every which way, and it’s enough to leave any of your lingering doubts behind, too captured by the obstacles before you to let such thoughts manifest.
And so, the visions of your friend's cracking blue lips, and thinning locks, temporarily fade from your synapses.
And for a moment, you no longer wonder why you might be the one to survive while they might not be…
You eventually step between a narrow opening upheld by two rectangular slates, and ahead of it you spot the etched stone you were told to be wary of by those that informed you of this path.
The message etched in stone roughly reads: The Village of The Snowflake. What lies beyond it is much graver than the downpours you faced back home; what awaits you is a thick, impervious storm.
The way to the village is composed of three layers; the first two, Komakusa and Kuroyuri, are said to be the easiest to pass through with average winter gusts and a short combined walking distance. Though, the third, Sasa, contains swift winds dense with ice from the lack of moisture. It's impenetrable, and most succumb to frostbite or hypothermia near the middle of the journey, but you mustn't let this dissuade you.
With a deep breath, you take the first step past the entrance and toward a rise above fate.
Only snowfall makes up the area for as far as you can see, but you were told these details ahead of time, along with notable landmarks and possible places for shelter (the nearest cabin is about 8 kilometers within Komakusa).
Sasa doesn't contain nearly as many luxuries, although details on it are already sparse. After all, The Village of The Snowflake doesn’t get many visitors besides the trespassers that trickle in to defile “divine lands”.
It’s an outdated view held amongst your elders, but you can’t shake the possibility of their being a grain of truth to it—that is, if such a village exists in the first place. Maybe the gods have only reserved immortality for those worthy of it…
The winds travel at speeds you're familiar with, and eventually, you find yourself shedding your damp snow boots at a cabin door, and the wooden floorboards cool beneath your aching feet. You trail across the abandoned rooms in hopes of finding any trinkets that may have been left behind by past travelers or village artifacts that could’ve been left untouched by them.
It’s been over half a century since anyone else has inhabited this cottage, but it’s apparent. The air reeks of dust and mildew while the insulation is porous and flaking to the touch. A few damp spots on the floor planks are too soft to walk on, denting with each press of your steps and leaving a mushy residue on your soles.
You think it’s best to make use of the little insulation you have anyways, gathering the tinder you’ve packed and heading over to the fireplace. With a swift swipe of a match, you set the material ablaze and relish in the instant comfort it provides you.
The heat sets your bones alight just as it did the straw, its gentle crackling tickles your ears with its soothing sounds and leaves an imprint of goosebumps across your skin.
You do a bit more exploring of the cabin, eyeing shelves and displaced panels along the walls, but the edge of a burlap sack catches your attention, tucked away in a hole in the corner of a bedroom.
You pry at the peeling paper around it until a hole big enough to remove it is created. Your fingers swipe away at the debris entangled in its fibers before examining it more closely; a loosely tied knot lies within its center while its constituent’s weight rests heavy on your fingertips.
Upon opening it, a waft of stale air hits your nostrils followed by another cloud of dust, which you hastily clear so that you could finally look through the bag’s contents.
The most noticeable item is a red spined book with decomposing pages, thick and with stained edges, the other two items are a rusted blade and a wooden pipe of some sort.
One glance while flipping through the first few pages tells you deciphering it will be no easy task, and quite frankly, it’s hard for you to gather the energy for it at this hour. You hurriedly place the artifacts back in the satchel before tying it to one of the straps on your bag.
Vast lands still await you, and the stop here was only meant for you to collect yourself and have a small meal before departing.
You reach for what you’ve packed, gulping down your loaves and a bit of water without a moment to savor the taste, then extinguishing the fireplace and shoving your boots back on to walk another stretch of snow.
The bag on your shoulders nearly buckles with the added weight, but hopefully the artifacts will be worth the trouble in the end.
The next rest stop is another 10 kilometers, and is within Kuroyuri. You waste no time in getting started, taking strategic breaths between well-paced strides and replenishing with water whenever necessary.
The sudden dark petaled flowers along your path have you stopping in your tracks to inspect the phenomenon. There are still flowers blooming despite the chilly season?
Summer flora during winter might be the first signs of the increasingly preserved life toward the village—and this fact is quick to lighten the load of worries on your mind.
Temporary vitality surges through your nerves at the promises that lie ahead, you walk more briskly and take fewer breaks, even avoiding the next rest stop entirely.
It's as if you couldn't feel the cold at all, marching, and stepping, and stumbling, until you are facing much thicker winds, as they nearly fold you over from its pressure.
But soon, you arrive near the dreaded Sasa, and any trace of prior energeticness you had is stripped from your body in an instant.
It's chilling how stark the contrast between the second and third layer is, as a frosty barrier stirs between the sides, making it so that just hovering your fingers near it has them curling backwards from the drastic change in pressure.
Are you certain that you're different from any other traveler? It's a fleeting but reasonable thought.
It doesn't matter. You’re quick to refute, because you'd rather die trying than live any more of your days passively.
You push forward with only the strength of your tenacity as your backbone, but it isn’t enough. The pressure is constant and debilitating, it’s quick to bring you to your knees and leave you with only your upper arms to fight against it.
It goes on for what feels like hours, before it suddenly stops.
It’s quiet, the whipping sounds of the wind no longer plague your eardrums. It’s all over…
It’s all over until you spot a figure just ahead of you with lightly-colored locks that blend with the snow.
At first, he’s turned away, preoccupied, while having little regard for his surroundings, but then his striking silver gaze meets yours, tugging you into its deep, reflective pools and glistening with utmost importance—two rare, imported coins.
He’s mesmerizing, especially as he stands still and unharmed despite the chaotic gust that surrounds him.
“You shouldn’t be here”, he warns sternly with his pale features washed out like the bleak sky above, jaw tightened and brows creased in your direction.
“And you should?”, you question with a lilt of annoyance, your body on guard of the stranger.
His rigidity loosens a little. “Look, I’m just trying to help you—”
“I came here knowing the dangers already”, you snap. “Plus, this place isn't safe for you either”, you add just as harshly even though deep down you know this isn’t the truth. He looks as if the arctic has always been his home, exuding an aura of connectedness with the mountains and its ever-changing weather.
“We're different, and I know you realize it too. You’ll die without me.” His words are blunt, yet his expression is sincere.
“How are you so sure—“, you begin but your words die out when a harsh breeze passes just as you speak, as if to silence your foolish counter.
“It’s best you come with me”, he suggests.
And you can only nod.
The man trudges forward with thick snow piling at his feet while you follow shortly behind him, never walking directly beside him nor in his path.
His ears and neck are tainted the slightest pink as his scarf does little to warm them from the cold. He rubs his mittened hands together between strides, occasionally pressing his heated palms to the sides of his face for comfort.
The only sound you hear is the crunching snow from you and his conjoined steps, along with your breaths as they fan out and condense in the cool air.
“Why’d you come here?”, he finally questions, eyes still locked on the trail before him.
“I came for a flower”, you say softly. “Bloom of Being, I’m sure you've heard of it?”
The man nervously palms the back of his neck. “Yeah, but it’s not worth the trouble of coming out here for it.”
“I need it for someone back home”, you hesitantly add.
“I see.” He stops walking for a moment, then turns to you. “I can take you to it, if you’d like?” He gives a gentle smile, with no remnants of his earlier hostility present.
“Yes, that'd be great…” You try to return his expression, but it's weak.
“Natsuo”, he suddenly introduces and places a hand outwardly.
You take his hand and do the same.
You eventually arrive at a cottage much like the one you were in before, except more furnished and spacious.
The main room is warm and smells of fresh fire. Small olive curtains line its windows while a thick rug rests in the center, occupying most of the mahogany flooring.
“It looks like you’ve been living here for a while”, you say upon inspection, removing your boots and coat before placing them near the doormat. The softness of the rug feels good on your aching feet.
“Believe me it’s only been a week or so”, Natsuo replies while doing the same.
He paces over to a countertop, while you seat yourself in one of the cushions near the floor.
“A week?”, you give him a puzzled look. “How have you remained in Sasa for so long?”
“Sasa?” Natsuo hands you a steaming cup before sitting beside you.
“The third layer, haven’t you heard? Storms that mimic wrath, winds that rival The Gods’ breath?”
“No, but I’ve kinda always been here, in a way, and I haven’t had much trouble with blizzards.”
You try to read his face for any signs of deceitfulness but to no avail. His eyes are as innocent as ever.
“Is that so?” You place down your cup to take a closer look at the map you brought. “Does that mean none of the rumors about The Village of the Snowflake are true?”, you ask yourself quietly but Natsuo hears too.
“A lot must’ve happened since I’ve been away”, he smiles awkwardly.
“It’s been said that this land is immune to time, and that its people preserved themselves to await a better future”, you add.
At that, Natsuo’s fists clench tightly in his lap, knuckles more crimson than its usual hue as his eyes glue to the quickly cooling cup in front of him.
“And you think a flower will make that possible?”, he asks softly before taking a sip. His shoulders are much stiffer than before, not that you notice.
“I’m not even sure anymore”, your voice is on the verge of cracking as your heart grows heavy from disappointment. Your journey has been fruitless so far.
Natsuo finally turns to give you a worried gaze. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, it’s nothing”, you brush him off with a wave of your hand then take a small sip of tea to ease the tightening in your chest.
A tense silence fills the room as the both of you pretend to be occupied with the drinks in front of you.
Though, Natsuo eventually breaks it. “So what are you gonna do now?”
You clear your throat before answering. “I think I’ll just head back home sometime tomorrow”, you say. “Like you mentioned earlier, the Bloom of Being doesn't seem to be worth the trouble. It was foolish of me to risk my life on a bunch of baseless rumors.” The relentless sorrow you’ve been trying to tame in the back of your mind begins to thrash for release, but you stifle it.
He stares at you with a mellow softness in his eyes. “You can stay here for as long as you’d like. It’s been a while since I’ve had company.” Natsuo grins, gentler than the ones before it.
“Thank you, I’m gonna need the rest”, you smile.
Natsuo collects your cup then heads back to the kitchen space in the corner. And despite your insistence against it, he also prepares a meal for two; grilled ice fish from the mountain rivers and a scoop of white rice beside it.
After the both of you finish your meals, Natsuo urgently removes his coat from the rack and slings on his boots.
“Are you heading out?”, you ask at his abruptness.
“Yeah, I cut some wood a while ago and I need to sled it here before the fire dies.” He flares out his cuffs and puts on his mittens.
“Oh, I'll come with you.” You swiftly rise to your feet.
“You really don't have to. I'm sure you've had a long day already.”
“No, worries. I still have some energy left in me.” You dart beside him.
“Great.”
You follow after his lead some more, but the distance isn't as far as before. Natsuo mightily tugs at the end of a metal sled, until you arrive, in which, you both load it with as many logs as the boards can handle without them overflowing.
“So you said you've been here for a week, right, Natsuo?” You attempt to strike up another conversation, logs in hand held tightly as you make your way over to the sled.
“Mhm, I actually grew up in this area but it's been a while since I've…really lived here.” He hands you a few more logs.
“I would say you must've had some interesting experiences growing up, but I'm sure most things I know about this place are made up.”
“Yeah, it's definitely not as special as people make it out to be.”
You hum in agreement then pause. “So, where’s the rest of your—“
“Why were you interested in freezing people in the first place?” Natsuo chimes, finally pulled from his task so that you occupy his attention. There's a weight to his stare much like your first encounter.
“Oh–Well, it’s a long story…” You load the last of the logs before going still. “My friend back at home’s real sick, and she needs a certain herb for her treatment that won't be in bloom until half a year from now. The doctor says she won't make it until then, so I thought to freeze her just until the time was right.”
A lull instills, laden with an emotion you can't place, yet it's difficult to move in. It urges you to gauge Natsuo's expression but he's unreadable.
“What’s wrong?” You ask as you watch his curved form, his shoulders drooped and his head bowing.
“I'm sorry”, he uses his sleeve to wipe at his lashes. “It's just–it reminds me of something”, he sniffles with a noticeable glistening of his eyes. “You're an amazing friend.”
Initially, you don’t know what to make of his misplaced tears, but you gather up a polite reply anyways.
“Oh, thanks…” you say meekly, as you realize you haven’t had enough time to mourn the situation for yourself. You think he may have seen something in those words that you didn’t, an underlying powerlessness and guilt for existing. Or maybe…“What was your village like?”, you softly inquire…he has a struggle of his own that has allowed him to resonate with you.
“Well, I remember everyone being close, yet distant”, Natsuo begins, throat still froggy. “You could walk over to anyone and expect them to know you. We were all accepted for the most part, but it was so easy for that closeness to be used against you when you are expected to be a certain way.”
“What do you mean?”
“High expectations, you could say, but that isn't important anymore.” Natsuo cups the back of his head while shifting his gaze.
Then, he's quick to get back to the task at hand, without another word.
By the time you two return, the sun has already set.
He tells you to make yourself at home in a spare room just beside his, and you do so, placing down your sleeping bag in the center of it, then organizing your paraphernalia.
Once comfortable and alone, you look over your map once more and try to think of all that was spoken amongst the people in your town in hopes of discovering some missing clue you may have overlooked, but it seems to be of no use.
Before your optimism vanishes completely, you reach beside your bed and look into the burlap sack you tied to your bag handle earlier, but it's empty.
A gaping hole rests where the book, blade, and pipe once sat.
Did it fall out while you were in the middle of that storm? It's hard to say, but your only chance at finding out the truth of this village may rest in the snow. You have no choice but to go back out there and search for it, even if it means going against Natsuo’s orders.
So, it's what you do, quietly scurrying down the halls as if a late night bandit, until you manage to reach the front door without arousing suspicion.
You tread meticulously in the knee deep snow, slowly approaching the icy barrier you initially faced when reaching Sasa.
The sight is still strange to witness; the sudden polar sides of a storm and stillness.
But you enter it proudly with the most fortitude you can muster, attempting to push back against deathly swirls of ice—yet it gives you the same force just as you give it—actually a lot more.
It beats and beats and beats down against you, as your statuesque with its coldness making stone of your cells. The air is too thick to breathe in.
Before you realize it, your face instantly collides with the ground while the surrounding cyclone is sure to keep you pressed into it.
It's over you think.
You've failed your friend. You've failed your friend’s family. And you've disappointed Natsuo–
The weight on top of you disappears while the storm gradually settles around you. It's calm.
Did I make it past the barrier?
“—you doing out here?” A muffled voice comes from above. Your ears still ring from impact. “It's not safe for you to be on your own. I can't—I can't lose you too.” You're suddenly picked up and placed across someone’s back, but you're hesitant to accept it until you catch a glimpse of pale strands, and you rest against Natsuo’s shoulder gently.
He takes you back to his cottage before resting your back on a stack of pillows he put together.
A warm cup is then placed to your cold lips as he sits across from you.
“N-Natsuo?”, you say meekly, eyes heavy while taking in his bleary outline.
“Don't speak”, he hushes you. “Finish that before it gets cold.”
You nod, taking your time with it so as to regain the body heat you've lost. He leaves for the kitchen stove to retrieve the pot of water he’s been boiling before adjusting the temperature by adding handfuls of snow. He returns to your side with the now warm water and a rag then dips the cloth into the liquid and wrings it out to bring it to your cold skin. His touches are soft and careful. The featherlight trail has you wondering whether the heat that blooms in it’s wake is from your cheeks or the water. His concentrated gaze takes little notice of your nervous squirming beneath him, but when his eyes suddenly meet yours they quickly flit away as crimson dusts his features.
He withdraws the rag from your body once he’s satisfied with your condition. You hastily sit up to resume drinking the tea he gave you.
“Natsuo?”, you ask, upon slurping the last of the cup's contents.
“What is it?”
“I'm sorry.”
If he heard your apology, he doesn't acknowledge it, opting to shut his eyes for a moment.
“I heard you leave”, he eventually replies, fingers balled firmly at his sides. “Where were you going?”
“I went to look for a book I found a while ago”, your words are spoken timidly from your lips. “I think it might have more information about the rumors…”
“How are you so sure?” Glaring silver crosses the distance to meet your stare.
“I’m not, but it's the only option I’ve got.” Your bottom lip trembles as you attempt to bite back tears. “I can't give up, not after everyone has already put their faith in me. And even if the book is no good, I'll look for a solution of my own—”
“It isn't possible”, Natsuo says calmly but sternly.
Looking within his glowering pupils makes your intestines curl.
“What?” You unconsciously recoil from him.
“I said it won't work…” His face is somewhat pleading.
Strange. Is the only word that plagues your mind.
His insistence. His demeanor when certain things are brought up.
Everything about him so far has been strange.
“Now that I think about it…why does the storm always seem to stop around you?”, you finally gain the courage to question.
Natsuo's brows marginally raise. “What are you talking about?”
“The blizzard back there almost crushed me, but the moment you arrived it disappeared. It happened when I first met you as well.”
He doesn't answer.
“Is there something you're not telling me?”
He parts his lips slightly before closing them, eyes downcast as if recalling something distressing.
“I’d have to start from the beginning”, he whispers. “But can you handle the truth?” His sudden resolve tightens his expression.
You nod. “Tell me.”
“Every birth in The Village of the Snowflake begins with a ritual”, he starts in a murmur. “A newborn child is given a small portion of the Bloom of Being in hopes of ensuring their abilities are prosperous.”
“What abilities?” you ask softly.
“Glimmers, it's ice magic.” Natsuo showcases one of his palms to cast a small gust of ice from it. A flurry of snowflakes fill the room, and it glimmers just as the name suggests. You shiver slightly as it settles and melts on your skin, trying to contain your awe of his casual display.
“There was a prophecy that claimed the village would receive a child that would become the new symbol of peace, and they'd have a Glimmer that could restore the peace that the village once had”, he continues. “My father, knowing the way he was, did everything to ensure that he would have said child, and so I had 3 other siblings.” His features become more solemn.
“At first they all believed my youngest brother showed a lot of promise—I mean I did too. Until one day, I surpassed the limits of my abilities while on the brink of death. I developed an even stronger Glimmer, and for a moment I thought maybe I was the chosen one instead.”
“Don't tell me…”, you mumble.
“The village counsel was wary, much like you are now, until a doctor stood by my side and advocated for me. That's when the experiments began.”
“Experiments?”, you intervene once more, tongue curled in a slight syllable of horror.
Natsuo nods. “I began testing my abilities on flowers and organic life while under the doctor's supervision. He eventually concluded that my Glimmer was meant for paving a brighter future, and that I was to preserve the village's people until there is a time of peace.”
“That's quite a burden.” Carrying the fate of your friend has already been troublesome enough, you couldn’t imagine a whole village.
“It was, and a lot of people thought I wasn't up to the challenge and left before the trouble began.” Natsuo takes a break before continuing. A coat sleeve is brought up to hastily swipe at his eyes. “One day, I suddenly woke up only to find that no one else but me survived the transition”, he heaves softly. “It's been a week since, but I realize I don't have nearly as much control over my abilities as I thought.”
You swiftly reach over to secure your hands around his, and he looks up at you with sorrowful eyes.
“It wasn't supposed to be like this–I don't know what happened.” His sobs start to increase in volume.
“You had good intentions”, you console him, tenderly rubbing to ease the tension in his hands. “It's not like you knew things were going to end this way.”
“Why was I the only one to survive and not anyone else? I just can't help but think that they were right. Maybe Shoto was the true prophecy child after all and I ruined fate.”
You shake your head softly. “If that were the case then this wouldn’t have happened at all, isn’t that how fate works? I think how things go are just how things go, nothing is meant to happen or not meant to happen. Otherwise, it implies that all occurrences are justified, even bad ones. The only thing you can do is learn from your mistakes and ensure the future you want to see.”
He mewls softly, accepting your touch and gripping your hand more tightly. His cheeks are stained a bright red, and his eyes are a bit puffy.
“You’re like a hurricane's eye, y’know?”
He looks at you confusedly but eager to let you finish.
“Your abilities, I mean. There's a huge storm that surrounds you but near the middle it's calm...”
You pause.
“But maybe the storm is worth passing through if it means you're in the center of it”, you smile a little, and he does too, lips curved upward and pearly teeth showing.
He doesn't say anything as his gaze slowly travels to your lips while he slightly wets his own. His body shifts closer to yours and you find yourself unconsciously mirroring his movements, eventually meeting him halfway for a kiss, and he pulls you even closer.
Despite the nature of his ability, his lips are warm and tasteless but with an addictive feel against your skin; they part so that his tongue can glide along the ridges of your mouth briefly, then they pull away.
“I didn't even ask if you were alright”, Natsuo rests a hand on your cheek while the other feels your forehead.
“I'm fine, please”, you gently guide his hand to the side of your face before pressing your lips back against his.
It feels natural to be slotted with him, as it means existing without the usual shame that contaminates many of your lively moments. Two who were given the opportunity to survive despite considering themselves to be the last choice for it, find fleeting meaning in one another's existence and don't want to let go of it.
His teeth nip at your bottom lip as you tug away for small breaths, a little saliva dribbling down your cheek from his sloppy but enthusiastic movements. As he travels the expanse of your neck, his hands travel along your sides to strip you bare, pointed breasts exposed to the chilling air while your thighs are slick with arousal.
He encases one of the peaks with his hot mouth, while he tweaks the other with the tips of his fingers. Your hips cant upward at the sensation, seeking relief for the lust that builds up in your sex, only to be temporarily satiated by the shallow grinds of his groin against it.
When he pulls away from your nipple, he puckers his lips to blow frosted air over the trails he's made, creating a sudden contrast in temperature that has you arching even more.
“Tickles, Natsuo”, you mutter, but he adds more coolness as he takes the pebble between cold fingers while switching to suck the opposite nipple.
Natsuo's clothed hips grind with more fervor, the embellishments on his pants brushing over your clit lightly and making your thighs clench. Your arms hook tightly across his back to bring him closer as you moan softly into his shoulders, begging for more relief.
“Wanna feel you”, you pant, hands clumsily fumbling with his hem, but he gently places them to the side.
“Let me take care of you first, okay?”, his husky whisper shoots straight to your core.
You nod, and he leaves a trail of cold kisses across your stomach until he hovers just above your twitching clit, fanning his breath over it while you twist and jolt in his hold.
He places more kisses along the sides before prying you apart with his cold digits. He admires the glossy strings that coat your folds then sucks the apex between his teeth with ardor.
The combined heat and swift strokes deny your mind of any coherence, nerves swollen with tingles, and sharp to the feelings along them. His fingers begin to prod at your opening as they make small circles on the soft flesh. He eases one inside slowly, then another follows soon after, scissoring and pressing around to make you writhe beneath him.
His actions are harsh yet languid as they curve toward your favorite spots, it’s difficult to keep your cries from filling the cabin due to the strength of his assault.
“m’gonna—a-ah—m’gonna cum”, you sob from the building pressing in your gut.
“Don’t hold back”, he coos into you, and it hurls you over the edge, thrashing as your pussy grips tightly around his fingers before finally spurting a trail of liquid along his wrists.
His tongue continues to soothe over your nub, lathering your fluids with loud slurps as you inch toward overstimulation, eyes brimming with tears as your fingers firmly take hold of his pale locks.
“Too much—”, you choke on a gasp amidst your second orgasm, yet he still can't get enough of your feel on his lips.
“Won't you let me have a bit more?”, he pleads.
He removes his fingers momentarily to suckle on your juices, obscenely taking them into his mouth then catching the stray dribbles with his tongue, all the while eyeing your expressions intensely. “You taste too pretty.”
When witnessing his enthusiasm, it’s hard to deny him of it. His display has your insides constricting and coiling in pleasure, and coupled with his unrelenting ministrations your eventually wound your tightest, sex pulsing uncontrollably.
“I want you inside me, Natsuo”, you say breathily.
He pulls himself to your mouth, damp lips meshing with your dry ones, and you taste yourself on his teeth. His hands pry at his bottoms to release his swollen head as it sits upright along the light bush of hairs that align his abdomen, tip coated in milky drops and twitching.
His cock is nestled between your lips, gliding from your combined fluids and his spit, he moans whenever your legs would clamp from his strokes brushing over your aching clit.
After he’s gathered enough slickness, his wide tip prods at your opening, its intrusion is slow and burning but the feeling of fullness after he bottoms out has your already sensitive walls clenching around it in sudden climax.
“Mm—fuck”, Natsuo breathes across your lips. “Cumming around me already?” He backs away to sit on his knees, hands gripping your hips as your back lies on the floor and your legs tighten around his lower back. “Precious”, he comments as he caresses your folds gently before he slowly pulls backward then thrusts into you at an agonizing pace.
The thick veins on his cock glide along your ridges perfectly but his lackadaisical strokes leave you clawing at him for the stimulation you crave, attempting to meet him halfway only for him to go even slower.
His pace leaves your mind in a fucked out haze, with drool coating your lips as he deprives you of a quick release, but the build up is much stronger than before despite being gradual.
He brings a thumb to your clit, rubbing just as slow circles on it to aid the winding in your core, tighter and tighter, until it inevitably snaps.
It's overwhelming. Your vision temporarily fades the instant it passes over you, you cream his shaft for all it's worth, too blissed out to acknowledge the sudden warmth of his seed that spills into you soon after.
Natsuo collapses beside you, sweat-damped cheeks pressing against your moist forehead before he pulls his lips to yours in a final searing kiss.
To be the last survivor is to enjoy the moments in which you forget the loneliness of being the last remaining.
#natsuo todoroki x reader#natsuo todoroki smut#mha x reader#bnha x reader#mha x gender neutral reader#natsuo todoroki#bnha reader insert#mha reader insert#natsuo x reader#natsuo smut
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Raison d’être - The Nameless Girl 11
Author: Akira
Characters: Shu, Mika, Kuro, Nazuna
Translator: Mika Enstars
"Très bien, truly magnificent."
[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]
Season: Spring
Location: Raison d'être Stage
Two weeks later. On the stage of the opera “Raison d’être” by Valkyrie, the best work from the Funeral Contest…
Shu: “This opera is dedicated to my beloved grandfather—”
“And “MADEMOISELLE”, who was his “beloved lady”.”
“♪~♪~♪”
Mika: “~…♪”
Nazuna: …♪
Kuro: My bad, I’ve arrived late.
Looks like everythin’s smooth sailin’ here, but we had some trouble at the very last minute.
Nazuna: Ahh, so AKATSUKI’s going through some trouble too, huh~… Surprisingly, I think everything will work out somehow on my end.
Kuro: Haha, you Ra*bits are always holdin’ out strong ‘til the last moment.
Anyways. I had the incentive given I was worryin’ over all sorts of things, so I figured to might as well see Valkyrie’s performance since I was invited.
This is the project they submitted to that Funeral Contest, right?
A livin’ funeral… While at first glance it looks like an ordinary opera, it seems strangely cheery for a funeral, ain’t it?
Well, that gramps does like things to be cheery.
Nazuna: I don’t really get it either, but… This was chosen as the best entry in the Funeral Contest by Itsuki’s grandpa himself for his living funeral.
Even if I don’t understand the logic behind it, it was chosen as the “right answer”, wasn’t it?
???: “—That’s right.”
“Those children brilliantly grasped the “truth” through logic and intuition, through reason and passion.”
“And they interpreted that obtained “truth” through their own aesthetic senses, and worked to express it through this one beautiful stage.”
“Très bien, truly magnificent.”
“Right—This is exactly the answer I had been seeking.”
Kuro: ……
Hey, now… That just knocked me speechless. Ah, right. Is that who I think it is?
Nazuna: Yeah. That voice is coming from that notebook laptop held by the “person next to me”.
It’s the true identity of the man we’ve been hearing so much about, Raffaello.
Raffaello: “Fufu. Should I be telling you, long time no see—Ryuu~-kun?”
“Please excuse my appearance. The doll I had been using as a terminal was destroyed by Kagehira-kun.”
“Fortunately every cloud has a silver lining, I haven’t been bereaved of all "Mademoiselle"s…”
“As you’d expect, it is difficult to get dolls installed with communication terminals through customs.”
“Another doll was used as a proxy in Paris, thinking it’d be too much a risk if she were confiscated or damaged.”
“Although it’s very unfortunate that she was destroyed, you could say that doll was Mademoiselle’s sister.”
Kuro: Hey… So that’s what was goin’ on. So ya were callin’ yourself Raffaello and messin’ around with Itsuki and the others…
—Gramps.
Raffaello: “That’s right. It’s really been a while since we’ve got to see each other, Ryuu~-kun.”
“You’ve gotten big.”
“Fufu, I don’t think the name you’d be called as a child suits you anymore—Kiryu Kuro-kun.”
Kuro: Ah, yeah. Long time no see…
Nazuna: (Whoa, amazing, this is rare. Kuro-chin’s acting as meek as a lamb.)
(This is someone he’s known since he was a child, and it’s someone who used to scold him all the time too. It’s no wonder he can’t hold his head up.)
Raffaello: “Fufu. As you can see, due to my youthful indiscretion, I smoked too much and developed cancer in my throat, so I’ve got a hole in my throat.”
“I can no longer speak normally, so excuse me for using a synthesized voice like this.”
“This is a body that should remain resting at a hospital, to begin with.”
“But I wanted to see my grandson perform at whatever cost, so I was allowed to go out temporarily after raising a fuss and threatening to sue the hospital and get it shut down if I couldn’t watch it.”
“My precious grandson worked hard on this gift to me. I am grateful to be able to see it in person instead of through a screen.”
Kuro: What’s this all mean… So the real identity of that Raffaello bastard that was treated like a con man was actually just Gramps…
But why’d ya go around callin’ yourself the son of your own affair, manipulatin’ around Itsuki and the rest of his family?
Wait, you’re also Itsuki, aren’tcha, Gramps. This is complicated.
Raffaello: “Fufu. Then, for the sake of distinction, shall I call him “Icchan”, just like he was called when he was a little kid?”
[ ☆ ]
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What’s an entertainment ban in China?
That's a really broad, vague question.
There are many entertainment restrictions in China, so this question could be answered in multiple ways depending on the context you're asking about.
Disclaimer: these are tricky, politically-charged topics, and verified information can be difficult or impossible to find. What follows is my understanding based on my study of this industry over the past few years, and will of course reflect my views and values. YMMV.
I think maybe the likeliest context you were asking about is the 'ban' around specific national days or events, when people do not share or discuss topics related to entertainment or other frivolous subjects out of respect for the occasion. Fans are asked not to post about their idol at that time, as it is a sign of irreverence and disrespect and can lead to trouble for that star.
There are a wide variety of restrictions around entertainment for censorship reasons. What people are allowed to do, wear and say, who is allowed to participate in particular types of roles, etc.
There are certain entertainers who, because of their behavior or the behavior of their fans, may be quietly or openly banned from certain types of public roles or appearances, or whose projects or status in the industry might be put on hold temporarily or permanently. The severity varies depending on the situation. Zhang Zehan is someone most readers will remember as being 'cancelled' fairly comprehensively in this way.
China's entertainment industry is tightly managed by the government, with a stated goal to help shape and guide the values and behavior of the population and embody communist ideals. Entertainers who are not deemed appropriate role models, or who show through fan behavior that they aren't able to appropriately guide people onto righteous paths will come heavily under the scrutiny/punishment of the government and of the public, so these things are not trivial concerns.
If an artist's fans don't properly observe national occasions, for example, and they post a lot and discuss a lot about their star on a national day of mourning or a date of significance to the party, they would be putting that star at serious risk of being cancelled both by the government and by the public.
Over the past few years the government has openly targeted fan culture and has been cracking down heavily on it. Fan groups are viewed as leading young people astray, causing major disruptions and problems, corroding social values and overall needing to be brought under control. Many restrictions, policies and statements from the government have been enacted toward this end.
The government takes a very dim view of any group that can rapidly mobilize based on shared ideas or values that are not government-sanctioned. LGBTQ groups have been heavily targeted in recent years for this reason. Pride parades are no longer allowed, and pro-LGBTQ groups have been shut down without any warning.
It's not because homosexuality is 'illegal' or 'banned' as many Westerners assume. Homosexuality is legal in China and there are even some limited rights afforded citizens and that benefit homosexual couples (more on that in Pie's excellent post). Rather, it's because of the threat to authoritarian power that large, impassioned movements can tend to represent.
This is actually why a lot of gay men who are turtles will avoid sharing their turtle status openly; because they don't want GG and DD to appear to be leading or inspiring a political movement.
Anyway, I hope this somewhat answers your question. If it doesn't, please feel free to write back with a more specific question.
A few related posts:
Nationalistic posts and why they shouldn’t be mined for candy - directly relevant to point 1.
Propaganda and false equivalence - relevant to point 2.
Politics in the fandom - relevant to all of this.
You can also explore the related tags for more on these kinds of topics. But make sure you do so directly from my blog (rather than from your news feed) or you'll get a bunch of unrelated posts from all over Tumblr.
#your political disengagement is a weapon against you#brotherhood and stuff#defined#sociopolitical analysis#ask
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introducing my first oc that isnt just my sona!!!
meet Subject: ARACHNID
as with all of the other Subjects, they use their codename as their nickname, being ARACHNID in this case
ARACHNID's speech indicator will be A, for example (A: what is your problem???)
their gender is no and they go by they/them
a friend of LEVIATHAN and the other subjects involved in Operation Vanguard, they are a seemingly quiet, kind individual, however that is just a facade, and they are very much insane, filled with rage at the death of their parents, and capable of killing without hesitation or remorse
they are, however, highly strategic in their actions, and will only kill if there is an actual reason
they are capable of practically vanishing into shadows, only making themself visible when they are ready to strike, and can even hide in broad daylight. they have mastered the art of stealth, and if they dont want to be seen, they wont be seen
they were one of the few volunteers for Operation Vanguard, as the other Subjects were injured past the point of no return, and the Operation was intended to be able to restore them as well as enhance them
their signature weapons are poisoned daggers, and they frequently wield two or more. when they are desperate or feel the need, they can divert energy away from their arms to enhance the daggers' lethality at the cost of an arm or two temporarily
BACKSTORY
ARACHNID had always been a good kid. Was always able to listen, helped others who needed it, and managed a strong relationship with their parents. They always believed in karma, and that 'you get back what you give'. So, it was a rather rude shock when life went the exact opposite direction in a matter of minutes.
They were just going on a shopping trip with their dad, grabbing some groceries and some bonding time, when suddenly they heard a scream, that was quickly repeated several times until they saw a crowd of people desperately trying to escape from... something. Them being the curious kid they were, and hoping to be able to help the situation, ran over to the source of the fleeing crowd, followed by their father.
From there, they discovered people lying on the floor amidst a river of blood. And there was someone standing in the middle of the massacre, seemingly unarmed and unbothered by the bodies at his feet. As ARACHNID and their father came into view of the scene, the mysterious figure raised a finger, and a knife flew from thin air directly into their father's throat. He stood there, stunned, and then collapsed to the floor, dead.
At that point, ARACHNID's fight of flight response kicked in, and through the rage and shock of having their father murdered right in front of them, they chose fight. As the figure raised another finger, ARACHNID pulled the knife out of their father's throat and rolled out of the way of the knife that flew right past them and into the ground. Grabbing that knife too, they threw the one they were already holding directly towards the figure...
And the knife landed, sticking directly into the figure's head. The knife was too sharp to have simply been stopped by the skull, and it pierced through to the brain, killing him instantly. ARACHNID stood there, stunned by what had just happened, from the death of their father, to killing a stranger, and was clearly struggling to process everything.
After a few minutes of standing there, they knelt next to their father's corpse and whispered "don't worry, they'll never do this again. I made sure of it." The most shocking part now was how little they were bothered by taking a life. In all the stories they'd seen, they knew that murder was typically something that haunted the murderer for the rest of their days, but surprisingly, they felt nothing but pride in having avenged their father.
They took their time on the way home, taking a knife with them in case they needed it again. When they arrived, they used their father's keys to open the door, and there their mother was, standing there. Without missing a beat, she asked "where is your father? You two went out together, why is he not back? And what's with that knife?"
"There... there was a murderer," ARACHNID explained, "and we encountered him. He sent a knife straight through Dad's neck, and another one at me, which I dodged. I pulled the one out of Dad's neck and... I killed him. I avenged Dad."
"Wha- How? Huh? Ok, so let me get this straight. You encountered a murderer, he killed your father, and then you grabbed the knife used to kill your father and killed the murderer with it?"
"Yes. That's exactly what happened."
"Ok, well chances are that skill will come in handy, as without the money your father is making, we won't be able to afford to live here much longer. So I recommend that you pack what you want to keep, we'll sell what we don't need, and we'll try and survive long enough for me to be able to make enough money to support the both of us."
ARACHNID's father had been the sole supporter of the family financially, as he had a job that pays him more than enough to support the entire family on his own. Their mother had never needed to work after their marriage, so she wouldn't have enough experience to secure a job that could support both of them.
And that proved true, and try as she might, she was never able to secure a job. The two started eating less and less, selling more and more, until eventually they could not afford to continue to pay off their mortgage, and were evicted and sent to the streets. Over time, ARACHNID's mother began eating less and less, trying to support her child as much as possible instead of herself.
Her priorities ended up costing both of them though, as over time, ARACHNID watched their mother slowly starve, until eventually, she didn't wake up one morning, and they had to continue on their own. For days, ARACHNID lived solely off of what they could either steal or work for and were barely scraping by.
Eventually, they were offered help, a place to live, and food to eat, by the family of someone who would eventually come to be known as Subject: AVIAN. The two quickly became best friends as well as adopted siblings once everything was settled, despite being polar opposites of each other. While ARACHNID was a quiet, cold-hearted person when they needed to be, AVIAN was always extremely enthusiastic and bubbly, and she ended up being the only thing holding ARACHNID's sanity together.
Eventually, when AVIAN was involved in an explosion following a car accident, those around her knew that she would not have been able to survive without being entered into Operation Vanguard. With this knowledge, ARACHNID volunteered to join the Operation as well, allowing the researchers to gather information around the effectiveness of the cybernetic enhancements without being fatally wounded first.
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The Ultimate Story the Beginnings
Chapter 21 Cont.
They continued on. Buttercup: “So, Lisa, how exactly do you plan to make these guys your new Gym Leaders? They don’t have any Pokemon.” Blossom: “Buttercup’s right, not to mention that they lack the experience of true Pokemon Gym Leaders.” Lisa: “Yes, but they did learn how to train Pokemon like expert trainers, yes? I just need to help them build their experiences and then they will be able to run their Gyms of my unique set-up. Time is short and the situation desperately calls for it. Everything that we do will play a very important role in this Ultimate Destiny.” Buttercup: “You keep saying this “Ultimate Destiny” thing since you were still training to perfect your powers. What is this already!?!” Lisa: “Patience, Buttercup. Everything you will need to know will be revealed when the time is right.” Buttercup: “Oh! You’ve got to be kidding me!! You keep saying that and we still have no idea what it is!! Just tell us already!!!” Blossom: “Buttercup, calm down. Lisa has already told us that there’s much that even she doesn’t understand, but you have to at least trust that she knows what she’s doing.”
Buttercup folded her arms in frustration. Buttercup: “Hmph! Whatever!” Misty: “So, this Ultimate Destiny, is it really far too complex for you to even talk about at the moment?” Lisa: “Yes, I’m still trying to figure out some of the details, but I do know this; it involves a truly massive battle that will decide the fate of the entire universe; something that the magical beings have been involved with for many, many eons. There will be many tough battles ahead of us and we have to be sure that will win all of them. Whatever comes our way, he have to be ready to take them on and we must do whatever we can to make certain that we will triumph against all of them. Let us proceed forward.”
They went on to where they stood before her students. Lisa: “Attention, everyone. It is so good to see all of you again, but I have called all of you up on a matter of great urgency. We are on about to start an important journey in facing against an evil force that threatens our lovely little home planet Earth. I am needed to collect some magical stones in order to aide us in doing so, but it seems to me as though I have also been tasked with finding another who will take part in this Ultimate Destiny that all of us will be a part of; a Pokemon trainer and one who does not possess any magic within their blood. I was told that I need their help in finding the stones, but I know better than to believe that is the only reason. I need your help in preparing this trainer to partake in this Ultimate Destiny that I have blathered on about. I was told that no trainers in this place called Kanto are travelling because all of the Gym Leaders are closed, so I plan on making each of you Gym Leaders to temporarily take their place. I only need 8 for the task. I will pick out each of you and then select which of the 8 towns or settlements you will be representing."
She looked to each of her students as she announced her decision one by on. Lisa: "Fox, you will represent Pewter City. We hope to find your friend before we are able to reach you. Mario, you will be placed in Cerulean. You can set up a nice cloud fortress to where you will set up your Gym. Kirby, you will take your place in Vermillion City. There is a nice port to which you will have a lovely view from anywhere in the skies above the city. Captain Falcon, you will have the honor of one to represent Saffron City. I hear there is a hi-tech building with warping capabilities. Link, you will be set up in Celadon City. I hear green is quite trendy there. Donkey Kong, you can have Fuchsia City. There is a lovely safari for you to set up your Gym there. Samus, I will have you set up on Cinnabar Island. It is secluded, much like you. And finally, Ness, you will take Viridian City. You are to be the final opponent for our chosen trainer. You shall now each pick out your Pokemon and I will have you build up your Pokemon training skills until you are ready to become my new Gym Leaders.”
And so, they got started on the process.
Each of the 8 students selected their Pokemon and began their long training with them. Misty: “So, how long do you think they will be on this training regiment?” Lisa: “These things do not last very long, so I will only need a few days with them.” Misty: “So how affective are these uh...teachings of yours? Can they really be trained up within a few days?” Lisa: “I know from experience that it is possible. I can channel years of teachings within a few hours. I can have them come close to being close to Pokemon Masters by the time these few days are up.” Misty: “Whoa...that’s incredible...! So, they will be more than ready.” Lisa: “Yes, however, not many fairies are able to do that. Only a few of the most knowledgeable variety are powerful enough to conjure up such an incredible endeavor. Someone my age could probably do it once every 1000 years. I have reason to believe that I was not given this by chance. Something major is going to happen and I have to make sure that everyone will be ready for it, no matter what needs to be done.” Misty: “Lisa…I never…expected…anything…like this…” Lisa: “Yes, neither did I, but such is part of fate and it will decide what we need to do next. Oh, one other thing. There is something that I forgot to give you.”
Lisa reached into her bag, Misty looked over towards her as she rummaged through her bag. She then pulled out what appeared to be a thin book and handed it over to Misty. Lisa: “This is for you.”
Misty took the book from her. Misty: “A book? Lisa, what is...uh...” Lisa: “It’s something that I’ve had for a long time. It seems to contain some sort of...mystic secret within its pages. I have yet to unlock those secrets. Maybe you can.” Misty: “Mystic secrets? What could it be?” Lisa: “I don’t know, but I can sense out an immense magical aura within that book. It seems to be housing something very important. I hope that you will be able to find out what that is.” Misty stared at the book for a while, puzzled.
Within a few days, they return to Professor Oak. Lisa: “Professor. We’ve done it.” Prof. Oak: “Ah, welcome back, everyone. Uh, what exactly have you done?” Lisa: “We have been able to find some replacements for all of the Gym Leaders in this region.” Prof. Oak: “You have? Uh, how...were you able to manage doing that, Lisa?” Lisa: “Let’s just say I know several people who are willing to fill in the missing roles.” Prof. Oak: “Yes, well, I would like for you to fill me in on a lot of the details regarding these...other people that you know.” Lisa: “Certainly, I would love to tell you everything that I know about this.”
And so, Lisa went on to explaining to the professor all that she could about her hand-picked Gym Leaders. He seemed a bit perplexed by this, but overtime, he was able to understand much of the details. However, he seemed to have been much more comprehending of the details than expected. Soon enough, the Pokemon League was reopened and the professor got on to preparing to deliver the starter Pokemon to the new trainer starting out.
Meanwhile elsewhere, Ly and Polokus stood beside each other. They seemed to be looking out at something. Ly: “It seems the wheels of fate are turning.” Polokus: [“Yes...it truly has begun. Lisa has but commenced the first epic journey of this Ultimate Destiny.”] Ly: “I just hope that these chosen participants will succeed where we have failed.” Polokus: [“Do not dwell on this, I mean sure, we may have not have been able to prevent such a terrible catastrophe, but we were blind-sighted by the corruption that has befallen all of these worlds. We will not fail this time. I believe that with all my heart.”] Ly: “I can only hope so. Lisa foresaw much of the anguish that we have endured. Although she has yet to comprehend everything, she was able to fathom much of what would be to come. It’s nice to have such fresh, new faces to take part in this. The losses caused by the Darkness are greatly immense and it has taken a toll on all of us. One such loss takes a great toll on me most of all, especially since he was....”
Ly hesitated as she closed her eyes and dropped her head. Polokus: [“I understand your pain, but it could not be helped. At least you were left with much. The loss should not be too great.”] Ly: “Yes, I can feel that everywhere, but the sadness from the loss has caused my restoration to be very lingering. I need to meditate just to maintain my strength.” Polokus: [“Still, you have yet to recover? I know you have been through a lot but has it really taken that much out of you?”] Ly: “You must understand, the agony from my loss exceeds my own physical wounds. We nearly lost everything. We were fortunate enough that we acted as quickly as we did.” Polokus: [Yes, indeed. This journey will test the friendship and loyalty that of all those involved and those that will be involved. They will need them to face these difficult battles.”] Ly: “I know...I just hope that our new friends will be ready for all of it when the time comes. Lisa has done wonderfully to teach them what they need to know for the moment, so I feel that when the time is right, they will face the many challenges ahead.” Polokus: [“Yes, I believe that my loyal subordinate shall aide in our cause.”] Ly: “Yes, he has indeed proven himself worthy for our cause. I...expected nothing less from your sole kin.” Polokus: [“Of course, my only existing kin...my dear boy...you have done me proud, but you know very well that there is still more to come and much more to face. I need you to continue helping the cause...aide our young heroes.”]
Ly and Polokus continue to look after Lisa and her team as they began their next journey. There were sure to be many challenges ahead and many secrets to uncover. They have yet to scratch the surface of what they will be facing.
This is truly a story that began many stories.
To Be Continued...
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