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strongheartneteyam · 10 months

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Realize where you belong.

Pairing: neteyam sully x female!human!reader/female!dreamwalker!reader

Chapter 7

CW: a good amount of angst, reader finally is letting neteyam in and realizing how she does truly love him too, physical contact, neteyam suffering while holding back from mating w/ reader, mentions of sex, yearning, sexual language, reader and neteyam acting like a cute couple, playful flirting, reader is more vulnerable with neteyam, a lot of fluff, reader feels guilty about the way she's been treating neteyam. Tell me if I'm missing something important!

Sorry for taking long to update, my angels 🥺🤍 unfortunately I'm going through a tough path in my personal life rn and bc of that I fell on a horrible depressive episode that I'm still on. So, my motivation to do stuff is very low at the moment and as I have to deal with my adult responsibilities that I can't run from bc nobody can, rn the best I'm able to do is focus the tiny bit of energy I have onto getting them done. I won't be able to update my fanfics as fast as I used to for some time. Can't say how long, it's not under my control currently, sorry :( But I LOVE writing, it's a great escape for me, from life problems and stuff, so, I really do not plan on stop writing fanfiction. I promise! Don't worry too much. Some of the upcoming chapters of this fanfiction, for example, are already saved on my Google Docs. I'll take longer but I won't stop updating. Anyway, I'm a tiny bit (ok maybe much more than that lol) insecure about this chapter but I hope y'all like it. Seeing your comments about the fic would make me incredibly happy. I'm needing some serotonin right now 🥲 Thanks for reading my writings ♡

Not proofread. Sorry if some parts are a bit messed up. I'll proofread it as soon as I can <3

Chapter 6

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You gave me roses and I left them there to die

So this is me swallowin' my pride

Standin' in front of you sayin' I'm sorry for that night

(...)

It turns out freedom ain't nothin' but missin' you

Back to December (Taylor Swift)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You inclined yourself slowly and sheepishly in Neteyam's direction, still feeling guilty for the way you had been treating him before. Neteyam sensed your self doubt and quickly swept you off your feet, taking you inside his arms, so he could finally get the hug he had been dying for, so he could finally feel your small body against his bigger one. His big hands were now under your thighs, securing you in place against his warm body. That closeness, his touch… it all felt incredibly good. You cursed yourself for pushing him away and postponing that moment. To think you could have felt that before and you didn't… "Stupid girl" you thought.

You were now really far from the ground but you felt safe. Now you knew Neteyam would always protect you. He would not let you fall and get hurt. He was not and had never been a threat to you. There was not and there never was any reason for you to be afraid of him.

"Oeyä yawne…" (my beloved) "You feel so soft and tiny… Eywa… Nga yawne lu oer" (I love you) His voice was choked with emotion as he held back tears of joy while he hugged you as tight as he was able to - without hurting you - and you rested your head upon his shoulder. Your nose was hovering over his neck and you sniffed his skin, smelling his natural, cozy scent. It was intoxicating, drawing you in, making you wanna stay like that forever.

You breathed in deep and relaxed inside his huge arms that held you for the first time but still strangely felt like home, like you had felt them around you a thousand times already. If you believed in past lives - which you didn't - you'd explain this odd but amazing feeling as you having found your soulmate again, in this current life. There was no fear of Neteyam inside of you anymore. You only yearned for more and more of him, only a burning affection kept your whole being warm, just like his massive body did too.

"There's still something I need to ask of you, if this is gonna work out between us." You said, breaking the hug for a while to look him in the eye

"Say it, yawne."

Neteyam was still so utterly happy that he did not even seem to be shaken by that, which he could have been

"You know why I pushed you away. First of all, finding out an alien double your size has been stalking you is freaking unnerving." You still gazed into his eyes, wanting him to pay attention to your words "Second, you acted like a creep. At least compared to the way human guys act around girls they're interested in. I don't really have any experience dating na'vi boys, you know?" You choked a little as you were trying hard to hold back laughter

"Ouch…" Neteyam playfully pretended to be extremely hurt by your previous statements. He chuckled "In my defense, I'd say my instincts are to blame, not me, exactly." You gave him a death stare, but in a playful manner too "When I saw you, I knew you would be the perfect mate for me and I had to make you mine. Everything about you rubbed me just the right way."

You smiled. He was being silly and so sweet. You just could not resist it.

"By the way, when did you see me for the first time?"

Neteyam seemed to get shy after that question. You wondered why.

"I fell in love with you while you were in your Avatar body, yawntu. That's when I first saw you." Neteyam looked up at you again, smiling but showing no teeth

"You what?" You questioned him, a bit shocked but you could not bring yourself to be mad at him, though. Imagining him hiding behind trees and up in branches to watch you silently seemed adorable in your eyes, now.

And yes, you knew it sounded crazy, to find someone who used to literally stalk you adorable, but nobody said that anything that was happening to you right now made any sense. Not even you would try to.

"How did I never notice you were around?" You shook your head in disapproval of your distraction back in the forest.

What if it had been a na'vi who did not trust you a single bit to even let you Dreamwalk freely, without grabbing you by the arm and taking you to the Olo'eyktan and the Tsahìk? Some na'vi hated humans to that point. And, as you always said and always would say, you had a great empathy towards them and could imagine yourself feeling the same way if you were na'vi. You could never bring yourself to judge them as harshly as way too many humans did. You knew they were not the villains of the story. But still, what if that na'vi tried to hurt you? You felt tense at the thought.

Neteyam noticed your uneasiness and tried to calm you.

"Don't worry, yawne. I'm a great warrior. A big part of being a good warrior is being really focused on one's mission and knowing how to get by as unnoticed as possible. So many other humans in their Avatars and even many, many na'vi wouldn't notice me, either."

Neteyam still wanted to call those other humans "demons in false bodies" but he was not going to. He knew it would hurt you and make you feel like he was talking about you too. But he was not. Whenever he had called you "demon", it never meant the same thing as it would mean if he was talking about any other human. But he knew it would be hard for you to understand. So he promised himself that he would never call you "demon" again. After that eclipse night when the both of you were talking in front of your bedroom window, he realized how much it hurt you when he called you that. He hated himself for bringing you pain. And his heart hurt so badly when he thought about the possibility of you pushing him away again. It made him want to hold onto your small, frail body tightly and say "Please, don't leave me! I can't be without you again… Please…"

"If you say so… I still think I should've been more careful, though." You say, still feeling a little nervous and thinking that maybe you had not been the best student when attending to your classes about na'vi behavior and that maybe you didn't pay enough attention to warnings they may have given about being mindful of your surroundings when Dreamwalking

"I promise it's okay. It was not your fault, yawntu. I'm just good at what I do." His smile clearly showed he was proud of being a good warrior

"Ok, then." You smiled back at him and the both of you laughed a bit.

Suddenly, he stopped smiling and his gaze dropped to your lips, that were not that far from his own lips, if it wasn't for that damn oxygen mask. You felt like he wanted to kiss you. The moment was awkward but in a good way. He could not kiss you with the mask on, so, instead, he smiled at you once again and looked down at the floor, bashful.

You touched his huge, gorgeous face and he looked up at you again "So, about what we were talking about before… Just try to be a little less… upfront about what you feel for me. I mean… sexually. I love that you want me this much because I want you too, Neteyam. A lot, actually. You're… really freaking hot." He smiled, blissful, and his cat-like eyes sparkled as he heard that, his ears perking up. "But you're a bit too much, at times. If you could just tone it down a bit…" Neteyam looked a little ashamed and insecure, so, you rubbed your thumb on his soft skin, to reassure him you still longed for him too "At least while I get used to your na'vi nature, it would be great. Please, try to understand me… It's a whole new world I'm just now discovering. But it doesn't mean I don't love you and don't want you and it doesn't mean you should feel insecure." You smiled gently, showing no teeth.

Neteyam looked a bit sad again after you finished your sentence and you totally understood why. In his na'vi mind, you were practically rejecting him. That was who he truly was, animalistic and a bit too much to your human standards. He must feel like who he is was not enough or good in your eyes.

"Hey" You cupped his face again "I wanna do something. Just let me take this mask off, first." You wanted to reassure Neteyam of your feelings for him by giving him a kiss.

"Yawne, no! You can't breathe without it. You could die really fast! I'm not gonna let you do it."

"So you don't want a kiss, Neteyam Suli? I thought you'd want it, judging by the way you have been stalking me and by our interaction that night, outside my bedroom's window." You teased him and his face lit up

Neteyam gave you an excited smile. The way his full lips curled up as he quickly pondered about the pros and cons of your offer was so beautiful, almost hypnotizing.

God, you really were in love with that na'vi boy, weren't you? There's no going back now. He's holding your heart in his big, weird but cute, alien hands.

"I guess if we make it quick-"

"Shut up, Neteyam." You interrupted, chuckling playfully "I know you're dying to feel my lips on yours. Just help me take this mask off already." It was a bit hard for you to take the mask off while holding onto his shoulders. You knew he would not let you fall but still you wanted to still feel a bit of control and keep holding onto him too.

Neteyam got surprised by your boldness, since he did not see it coming, and he could only think about how freaking amazing it would feel to finally taste your lips, so, he did as you asked - leaving the mask hanging on your neck by the strap it had - and you rapidly held his big pretty, blue face, brought your lips to his and placed the most tender of kisses there, pressing your mouth against his mouth softly but with so much care, trying to let him feel how much you desired him too. His lips were velvety, warm and so incredibly good to kiss. God, you did not care that you were risking dying from lack of oxygen. You wanted that alien boy so badly.

Neteyam's still tense demeanor soon turned into a calmer one as he kissed you back. His hold on you got tighter as he felt your sweet soft lips on his. He felt so incredibly hungry for you. How could he not be? Your kiss was the most delicious thing he had ever felt in his whole life. You both shared saliva and wet each other's lips with each time your lips parted only slightly and came together again. Your soft skin made him want to squeeze you and never let you go again. Neteyam wanted to cuddle with you, wanted to wrap his tail around your small body in a possessive way to let you know you're his and that he would take care of you, hunt food to feed you and protect you from anything that could ever hurt you.

It was getting harder and harder for him not to lay you on the ground and press his body against your tiny one and make love to you right there but he knew that, thinking rationally, that was not a good idea at all, as the both of you were just outside a laboratory full of humans and you two could easily get caught and be in danger.

Even though Neteyam craved your body insanely, now even more than before, as he was finally feeling you close and tasting your lips, he was trying to take it as slow and gentle as he could because he wanted to respect your limits instead of scaring you away again. He understood you were human and your race acted in a very different way when it came to relationships. He still thought it to be a dumb way to lead things but it was you who was asking him to act differently and he loved you with his whole being. He could not bring himself to say "no" to that request. He knew it would be temporary and you soon would give into the na'vi that lives inside of you when it came to mating too. For you, Neteyam could wait. He knew things would soon change for the better. You were now in his arms, as the two of you kissed. You were no longer afraid of him. That was everything he needed at that moment. Things were already so much better.

Neteyam noticed you were having more and more trouble breathing, so he got worried and quickly put your oxygen mask back on.

You gasped for air and breathed in so much oxygen once you had your mask on that it might have been funny to watch, though Neteyam did not laugh. On the contrary, he seemed way too serious, way too worried about your safety. You wanted him to relax a bit.

"See how much I love you? I risked dying just to give you a kiss." You tried to speak normally but what came out of your mouth was a hoarse whisper instead, as your lungs were still in need of more air. A weak smile was adorning your lips as you struggled but still managed to let out a frail chuckle

"Don't say that, oeyä tawtute, please." Neteyam told you, trying to stay serious but still letting out a chuckle as well

"See the sacrifices I make for you, Neteyam?" You tried to seem mad at him at the beginning, only to start laughing shortly after, now that you finally had enough oxygen in your system to be able to let out an actual laugh, even if it still sounded weaker than your laughing would sound in another situation

He smiled big and teased you "Skxawng." (moron)

"But you love me." You closed your eyes while smiling, full of yourself

"I do." You opened your eyes to look at his face "More than you think, yawntu."

Your heartbeat accelerated intensely and you blushed. Neteyam found your blushed cheeks adorable. He looked at you so intensely, like he was holding the most precious thing in the world in his arms.

Neteyam knew he had just fallen even harder for you now that you both had kissed. He could not wait until he could be alone with you in a safe place and get to explore your body with his hands and kiss you all over. He almost got hard just thinking about that but he tried his hardest to whoosh that away. Neteyam was scared that feeling his bulge would be too much for you at that moment, specially since he knew he was much bigger than the human males you were used to. You might feel uncomfortable because of that difference and the sudden intimate feeling of his hard big cock against you and want to get out of his arms. Neteyam did not want that to happen. He needed you there a bit more, he was not ready to let you stand on your feet yet. And he was so afraid of you not wanting him close anymore, he was so afraid of perhaps ruining what you both had now. It was far too special for him. He could not let his sexual instincts ruin that. The time would come when you would let him in completely, when you would grant him permission to be inside of you and show you how much he craved your pussy, how much you messed with his head and awakened his most intense desires. Until then, he would wait and take baby steps. For you, he was capable of waiting for ages, though he hoped so strongly it would not take long.

༊⁀➷

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magical-wishies · 3 months

Text

To love or not to love, that is the questio-

Ok whoops wrong reference. Happy Valentine's Day everyone! I made a MV of the song "Darling Dance" by Kairiki Bear featuring my favourite little tricksters for the occasion!

I'd rather you go straight to Youtube to watch it because Tumblr always finds a way to cut the quality, lol.

Eng subtitles are available too!

youtube

Here it is! Hope you enjoy my pride and joy. Basically like a hopeful child but in video format. Reblogs are specially appreciated because Youtube sucks at promoting new channels!

This also acts as a behind-the-scenes post, so let's get straight into that, shall we?

MV Project 1 "Darling Dance"

Illustration time: 37 hours

Editing time: Approx. 30-35 hours

Total: 70 hours

*Cough* Holy freakin' moly does making an MV take so long. Before you roll off your bed, I'll say that part of the reason making the art took so long was because I have trouble drawing Marx consistently.

Here's some unused assets! Look at them, they're all salty over not making the cut.

In all seriousness though, a lot of times I don't really see a lot of editors/ MV makers getting appreciation for their efforts. And now that I've personally experienced making an MV for the first time, it's also increased my admiration to the people who dedicate their time to this! All the kudos to them.

Now, I'll go scene by scene then comment along the way! Spoilers ahead!

Verse 1

Pretty good for what it is. In the first image, you see that heart behind Magolor? I discovered the motion of it on complete accident lol. Capcut is hard to figure out..

I also really like the color palette of 2nd image. That art of Marx was the last one I did during production (aka I drew it this morning), and just look at him. He's such a bastard he's the best.

Pre Chorus 1

Mmmm yeah it sure is the pre chorus! I put a bar behind the text in the middle because I didn't want people to stare into their soulless eyes for too long. That probably worked!

1st Chorus

When I first added in the expression change, I fangirled over it a little on the first rewatch. Like, come on! They suddenly look mischievous, and the color change on the background! I know I drew it but still!

For the rest, I experimented a little with all the "Nah"s! I think it ended up well. Most of the lyric editing in this MV is completely original, so I had a couple of things to try out!

Verse 2

This song is horrifically outdated because it says Twitter instead of X!! (/sarcasm)

This scene is my second favourite. I'm really proud of the details on the tabs and the editing at the beginning! Wish I could put more images but the app only allows ten. Bummer.

Pre Chorus 2

I think it's cute, and I used it as my pfp on YouTube! That's about it though.. image limit is killing me I can't put anything here :(

Chorus 2

...Not gonna spoil it! I like how I drew them, but there ain't anything notable. Unless you look at the last image I put right before the bridge. :)

Bridge

This is where my editing comes in freakin' clutch. Ooooooh it's so satisfying to look at. Chef's kiss. Also those Marxs (Marxes?) are really cute.

The second part of the bridge is nice as well! I tried to make the lyrics snap to the rhythm. Glad I added that tv effect in the bg too!

Chorus 3

This scene is my favourite! Wanna know why?

This sequence right here. I think I will etch it into my brain forever... I love me some snappy editing. Like a lot. Like a lot a lot!

The second part of the chorus is like the original song's MV! I loved the hearts popping in and out whoever thought of that is a genius. Putting it into the MV was a good decision!

And that's a wrap! Hope you enjoy the MV as much as I enjoyed making it. And, stay tuned for next time! I have a feeling a certain jester is getting his own solo MV...

Feel free to leave your thoughts either in the Youtube comments section or here. See you around!

#kirby #magolor #marx kirby #marxolor #blood sweat and a lot of tears were put into this..#curse me and my need of adding ribbons and pink to everything (/j)#i really do hope you all will like it though! all the best.#Youtube #flashing #cw flashing

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weemssapphic · 1 year

Text

I desire. And I crave.

part one

Jane Murdstone x fem!reader

series page

summary: Jane Murdstone suffers from Hanahaki Disease. The object of her affections? Her lady’s maid. Too bad she would rather feel the cold embrace of death than confess her feelings. ~ For those unfamiliar with the Hanahaki Disease trope: HD is a (fictional, lol) disease where someone begins coughing up flower petals because they have unrequited feelings for someone. If not treated, the disease is fatal. Treatment is either a. the feelings become requited, or b. surgery (the caveat here is that the feelings for that person disappear entirely).

words: ~5k, ao3 link

chapter-specific warnings: slight angst/angst with a happy ending, Hanahaki Disease, blood, mentions of death/near-death experience, fear of death, unrequited love (or is it), hints of soft!Jane but also angry!Jane

That man to me seems equal to the gods, the man who sits opposite you and close by listens to your sweet voice

and your enticing laughter— that indeed has stirred up the heart in my breast. For whenever I look at you even briefly I can no longer say a single thing,

but my tongue is frozen in silence; instantly a delicate flame runs beneath my skin; with my eyes I see nothing; my ears make a whirring noise.

A cold sweat covers me, trembling seizes my body, and I am greener than grass. Lacking but little of death do I seem.

Sappho 31

Jane Murdstone doesn’t have a soft spot for anyone. She prides herself on her calculating, cunning manner, takes joy in inciting just a little bit of fear in those she comes in contact with. A little healthy intimidation keeps people on their toes - and, in Jane’s mind, there is nothing worse than a person who is lazy or slow-witted.

No, Jane doesn’t have a soft spot for anyone. Except perhaps her lady’s maid. And only a little bit, really. It’s just that Jane has rarely met anyone who is able to keep with her like you are.

What had first endeared her to you had been how quickly you’d caught on to your duties when you’d been hired, and how extremely meticulous you are - outshining any other maid or servant she’d ever employed with your eye for detail.

What has her swooning (if, of course, she were even the type to swoon, which she isn’t, thank you very much), is realizing how your intelligence and quick-wit rival her own.

She has often even caught you smiling slightly when she’s made a cutting, sarcastic remark towards another servant. Others cower in fear (which has an appeal all of its own), but you are unphased, seeming to appreciate her wit like no one else - it makes Jane’s heart flutter in a most unfamiliar way.

Today, Jane sits at her vanity, allowing you to pin up her hair for the day. She watches you in the mirror - you avoid her gaze, focusing intently on ensuring not a single hair is out of place, which gives her the freedom to stare. Her eyes track your movements, the painstaking way in which you push each pin into place, the concentrated way in which your pink tongue darts out ever so slightly and your brow furrows as you work.

Her gaze lingers on that tongue of yours, between full, soft lips, and Jane feels a warmth spread through her core. Her entire body tingles as your fingers brush against the nape of her neck, the gentle touch sending a shiver down her spine. She curses internally at herself - she should not be having such sinful feelings or thoughts about a maid. But you aren’t just a maid, are you?

She knows that her feelings aren’t professional. But you don’t seem interested in her anyway, only engaging in conversation when spoken to (although, really, that is what Jane had initially requested) - and you’re young, anyway, much younger than she is. She realizes she hasn’t had many personal conversations with you - she certainly doesn’t know where your interests lie. Men, women? Perhaps both? She allows herself to get lost in her musings, to indulge in the thoughts of lustful fantasies that will never come to fruition.

You push the final pin into place and look up, catching Jane’s eye in the mirror. Your eyes widen and your cheeks flush, and Jane quickly averts her gaze.

“Is it to your liking, milady?” comes your voice, slightly timid and perhaps a bit breathless.

“It’ll do,” Jane replies airily, regarding herself in the mirror. Of course it is to her liking - she has never felt more beautiful since you’ve come into her service - her previous lady’s maid had never been able to do her hair just right (her work, in general, had been so sloppy compared to yours).

As Jane rises to her feet, her thoughts, regrettably, lingering on you, she feels a tickle in the back of her throat. She begins to cough. It takes several seconds for the cough to ease up, and when it does there is a strange burning in her lungs that has her pressing her hand to her chest.

She turns to find your hesitant gaze upon her.

“Are you feeling ill, milady? Shall I make you a mustard plaster?”

Jane scoffs. She doesn’t feel ill. “Don’t be absurd, girl. It will pass. Fetch me some pepper tea and begin the rest of your duties, before you fall behind.”

“Yes, of course, milady. Right away.” You nod curtly, your gaze still curious and uncertain, before turning on your heel and hurrying down to the kitchens. Jane scolds herself for the longing she feels for your presence as soon as you vacate the room, shaking her head lightly and perching at her vanity to await your return, her throat beginning to tickle with another cough.

~~~

You’ve been working as a lady’s maid for Jane Murdstone for close to two years now - and they have been, for the most part, the most comfortable years of your life. After a bit of a rocky start (it had taken you quite a bit of time to be able to properly decipher Jane’s moods and get used to her cold demeanor and cutting, sometimes even cruel remarks) you’d settled into your routine and even gotten to like the abrasive woman.

She isn’t exactly kind to you - you aren’t sure if she’s ever been kind to anyone in her life - but she doesn’t seem to show quite as much disdain towards you as she does towards the other servants. She seems to recognize your diligence and intelligence, traits that she appears to value, and though she’s never openly thanked you for anything, she sometimes gives you a look of approval when you manage to anticipate her needs without her having to speak them aloud. That look alone always makes your heart beat just a little faster.

In turn, you admire her quick wit and sharp tongue, her ability to use words as a weapon and find a smart response to anything within a matter of seconds - you wish you possessed these traits, although you sometimes wish she would go a bit easier on others, particularly the other servants.

You adore her intelligence and share her love for poetry (sometimes, she asks you to read to her and, recently, she has occasionally started to ask your opinion on certain lines - it makes you nervous, but you would do anything to please her).

And she is beautiful. Her silky raven hair accentuates the icy blue of her eyes and her fair skin, while her unusual height and soft curves never fail to bring a flush to your cheeks. You often wonder how she hasn’t found a husband yet - if you were a man, you’d have already asked her hand in marriage long ago. There must have been suitors in her youth - you imagine a young Jane Murdstone, fresh-faced and innocent, and you shiver. She likely thinks herself too good for the likes of some foolish man, you think. Which she is, of course…

Pinning up her long, dark tresses always brings you more joy than you care to admit. Sometimes, if your mistress appears to be in a particularly pleasant mood, you allow your fingers to linger in the lush locks, taking your time with each and every wave. It is almost a sensual experience for you, though you would never admit it out loud. Definitely not to Jane herself.

When you finish with her hair and look up to find her regarding you in the mirror, you worry she has sensed your dawdling and is gearing up to reprimand you. Her response, however, indicates she is pleased with your work (you’ve learned that “it’ll do” is often the highest praise you’ll receive from your mistress, and, for that, it makes your heart swell).

A brief coughing fit causes you concern, and, of course, Jane refuses to allow you to properly care for her. It is not your place to argue, though, so you do as you’re told and scamper down to the kitchens. You leave the cup of tea on Jane’s vanity, then dismiss yourself to begin patching up a dress that Jane had requested you fix.

~~~

Jane’s cough appears to worsen over time, though she doesn’t necessarily appear ill. It puzzles you as much as it troubles you - she refuses every attempt from your side at finding a cure, be it a home remedy or allowing the doctor to stop by.

You decide to do something kind for her to ease her worries - you can sense the cough is beginning to perplex her as well, though she doesn’t say anything. Rising early, well before you are to assist Jane with dressing, you sneak into the gardens, intending to pick some flowers for your mistress.

Your eyes immediately land on the white phlox decorating the garden path. You are painfully aware that Jane is well-versed in the language of flowers, as ladies of her status often are, and would likely assign a meaning to whatever bloom you gift her, so you must be cautious. White phlox seem safe enough - pure intentions, honest commitment, faithfulness - all sentiments that can easily be written off as your devotion as a servant, with little room for misinterpretation.

Methodically snipping off a fistful of flowers near the edge of the flowerbed, where they won’t be missed, you find a small, ornate vase for the blooms and carry the bouquet carefully up to Jane’s bedroom.

You knock, as you do every morning, waiting for Jane’s smooth voice to call out “you may enter” before slipping in through the door.

“Good morning, milady.” You curtsey as best you can with the vase held firmly in your hands. “I brought you a small gift.”

Icy blue eyes fall to the bouquet, widening ever so slightly. You think you see a blush creep up her cheeks, though you quickly write it off as a trick of the light - you’ve never seen your mistress blush before.

“What’s the occasion?” Her eyes don’t leave the bouquet as she speaks, and she takes a step towards you as if transfixed.

“None, milady. I wanted to give you a token of my appreciation, is all. You have been very good to me in my time here - I hope the flowers can brighten your day.” You try not to blush or stutter as you speak, though Jane’s impenetrable gaze (that has begun to track every inch of your face) makes this difficult for you.

She is silent for a moment, as if allowing your words to sink in, her face an impassive mask. Finally, she speaks.

“They are very pretty.” She clears her throat. “Please place them on my nightstand.”

Her lips curve upward, stretching timidly towards her ears as she watches you follow her orders, and your heart races. When you turn back to face her again you can sense a hint of admiration shining through in those piercing eyes of hers, and it makes you giddy.

~~~

Jane’s cough is persistent. It doesn’t ease up as the days and weeks go on, and Jane wonders if maybe she should see a doctor, or allow you to try some other form of home remedy - even though she appears not to have any other symptoms of illness. These worries are always brief in nature, however, and she manages to push the thoughts of illness far from her mind. Until one morning just after you’ve left her bedroom, having brought her a small bouquet of white phlox from the garden.

As she admires the flowers, her thoughts drifting to the faint blush that had colored your cheeks as you’d gifted them to her, Jane feels a weight on her chest, accompanied by a light tickle at the back of her throat. The tickle quickly turns into a scratch and before she knows it, she begins to cough again. She covers her mouth and when she pulls her hand away, there is a single tiny, white petal nestled in her palm. She recognizes the petal immediately - it looks just like the petals of the phlox that decorate her nightstand.

She furrows her brow. It can’t be… She shakes the thought from her head as quickly as it comes, tucking the petal into the drawer of her nightstand - she knows no one would dare open it - and clears her throat, the scratchy feeling already fading.

~~~

You are lacing up Jane’s corset as usual, trying to tamp down the blush that dusts your cheeks when your fingertips occasionally brush against Jane’s back. Unable to help yourself, you allow your fingers to linger just a moment longer - too long. Jane stiffens under your touch and you wonder if you’ve pushed too far, but then she begins to cough and sputter and you drop the laces of the corset as if burned.

“Milady… are you alright?” you ask apprehensively, concerned by the exaggerated heaving of Jane’s chest.

“Leave,” she rasps out, raising her hand to cover her mouth. You stand rooted to the spot, too worried to heed Jane’s warning - and you are sure it was a warning.

“You insolent girl, I said leave!” she croaks, not sparing you a glance. The venom in her voice between coughs surprises you and spurs you into action - you rush out of the room, not daring to linger long enough to curtsey, shutting the door behind you. Jane’s coughs can be heard just a moment longer, before they begin to subside.

You return to your own chambers, pacing nervously as you wait for further instruction - the rest of your morning duties would involve tidying your lady’s chambers, but you are almost certain you aren’t currently welcome there.

A knock shortly thereafter causes you to bolt to the door, smoothing your skirt before opening it just a crack. You feel a weight on your chest when you see the younger chambermaid, Emily, standing before you.

“Hello, Miss. I am to inform you that Miss Murdstone is not feeling well today. She does not require your presence and requests you do not attend to her chambers,” Emily says timidly.

You stare at her in shock. “O-okay.”

Emily digs around in her apron and pulls out a folded piece of paper. “I am to give you this as well, so you’ll have alternative duties to perform.”

Numbly, you take the paper, thanking Emily who nods in sympathy and turns to leave. You unfold the paper and scan the list - they are tedious duties, busy-work, and you are sure you will be finished quickly; things like replacing the water in the flower vases, dusting the books in the library, fixing up a loose thread in the sleeve of your mistresses overcoat.

You carry out these duties with a heavy heart, trying to keep your mind from wandering to Jane, from wondering what is wrong with her and why she won’t allow you to attend to her. The last time she was ill, you’d been asked to wait on her hand and foot, bringing her medicine and water and reading to her at her bedside. You wonder if you’ve done something to offend her - the thought alone makes you sick with worry.

~~~

Days turn into weeks and Jane withdraws more and more. You have come to expect a list of daily duties waiting for you by Jane’s door - you are no longer given permission to enter her bedroom, a room which Jane now seldom exits.

Rumors about Jane’s illness spread amongst the servants - you, being her lady’s maid, are eyed curiously by the others at mealtimes, though no one dares to question you about the mysterious cough that has Jane retreating from society, not showing up to supper and refusing any form of sustenance that is brought up to her bedroom.

One morning, you see Emily exit Jane’s chambers. At first, your blood boils - why is Emily given permission to enter Jane’s chambers, and you aren’t? What’s so special about Emily? What have you done to displease Jane?

Then your eyes drop to the bedsheets that Emily carries. Brilliant white, dotted with specks of deep red. You feel as though your heart drops all the way down to your feet - you are certain it would drop even further if that were at all possible. Your mind races - that can’t be blood? If it is… then Jane is more ill than you’d thought.

Your stomach churns and you make eye contact with Emily, who doesn’t bother to hide the worry on her face as she rushes past you, attempting to shield the sheets from view. You consider pestering Emily about Jane’s condition, however your pride is too great - you would have to admit that Jane no longer trusts you enough to speak with you, let alone see you. You are sure everyone knows by now anyway, but you refuse to admit it aloud.

You perform your duties half-heartedly and with a hollow pit in your stomach, often lingering outside Jane’s bedroom door when no one else is around. Occasionally you hear fits of coughing, and they often sound strangled, as if she is choking on something.

The first few times, you call out to her, asking if she is alright. At first, she asks you to leave, in a harsh yet utterly spent tone. After a while, she stops responding at all - and then, even later, you stop asking, choosing to simply lurk for a moment before carrying on with your day.

It is a random Tuesday when you decide to try again - you bring a cup of her favorite tea, clinging to a tiny tendril of hope that she will be pleased at your thoughtfulness. You knock on Jane’s bedroom door, receiving no answer.

“Milady, I have brought you some tea. May I come in?”

Still, no answer.

“I’ll just come in for a moment to leave the tea with you, milady.”

You push open the door as you’re speaking and walk up to Jane’s bedside, determined. If Emily can, then so can you, you think.

Jane is livid.

You barely have a moment to appraise her, to assess the state of her illness, before rage settles over her features. She pushes herself up from the bed with great effort, closing the short distance between the two of you and ripping the porcelain cup out of your hands. The dark liquid sloshes over the rim of the cup and stains the rug underneath your feet - Jane either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

“Get. Out.” Jane grits out, her voice scratchy like sandpaper, and you shrink back, taking slow, tentative steps backwards towards the door. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat - you have rarely seen Jane in such a blind rage, and it has never been directed at you before.

“Please, milady, I only wish to help! If you could just-”

“NOW!” Jane bellows, lifting the hand that holds the teacup. You know she is about to throw it - you rush out the door, closing it behind you as the cup smashes against the wood, shattering instantly.

That night, you have trouble sleeping. The shattering of the porcelain still rings in your ears, the fury on Jane’s face at the mere sight of you is imprinted on the back of your eyelids when you close your eyes. Your heart aches, grieving for Jane’s health - and for the loss of Jane’s presence in your life.

A few weeks after the incident, you overhear a conversation in hushed tones behind the closed door of Mr. Murdstone’s office that brings tears to your eyes:

“-sister. Is she still ill?” It is the voice of Mr. Browning, a business associate of Mr. Murdstone.

“Gravely, I’m afraid.” The usually impassive Mr. Murdstone, who has never sounded anything less than harsh and confident, clears his throat - his voice has wavered and this alone alarms you greatly.

“Is there a prognosis?”

“She refuses to allow anyone to see her, even her lady’s maid. I am unsure of the nature of the illness but it seems-” he clears his throat again. “-it seems she won’t make it past the turn of the season.”

You turn away from the door - you’ve heard enough. Bile rises in your throat, and your knees buckle as your legs threaten to give away underneath you - you take unsteady steps to your room, allowing yourself a moment to break down in the solace of your bed as the tears you’ve managed to keep at bay begin to fall, staining the pillow beneath your head like a patchwork of droplets.

~~~

Jane knows what’s wrong. No one else may know it, but Jane knows it, and it fills her with a sense of dread she’s never felt before.

At first she’d thought nothing of her cough. But once the petals began expelling themselves from her throat, she knew. Hanahaki Disease was rare, but she’d seen it in action before. She always thought herself above it all - she wasn’t one to give her heart out so easily, she wasn’t foolish enough to feel something for someone who didn’t want her. And, since no one wanted her, it was quite easy not to want in return.

But she’d overestimated herself. And she’d allowed herself to show softness, to show weakness. She’d allowed herself to fall in love.

It had slipped through her grasp, that pesky feeling, trickling smoothly through the hairline cracks in her metaphorical armor like a tiny stream, going entirely unnoticed until it was too late.

And now, she is paying the price. Of course, Jane thinks bitterly as she sits at the edge of her bed, recovering from a particularly harsh coughing fit, glowering down at the petals in her hand as if they’d personally aggrieved her. Of course she would fall for the one person she can’t have. Someone who holds no love for her in their heart.

A fitting end for cruel, cold Jane Murdstone. Dying unwanted and unloved, just as she’d always been. In her weakest moments she allows herself to succumb to her longing for you, imaginary scenarios running through her head of the two of you, happy - of a world where you love her and where she isn’t faced with her impending demise.

As she thinks of you, she begins to cough again. It hurts, as if thick, thorny vines are encircling her lungs, tightening in a vice-like grip with each passing day. The petals come out in a steady stream - they feel like shards of glass, cutting at her throat from the inside. A metallic taste fills her mouth and, as she looks down at the heap of tiny, snowy petals, she sees droplets of blood staining them red.

Jane hides the petals in the drawer of her nightstand, each new petal accompanying the last. She feels silly doing so - shameful even - and it places a heavy burden on her heart that weighs her down like lead. But if no one finds the petals - at least not while she is still alive - then she doesn’t have to bare her shame, her cowardice, for the world to see - for you to see.

And she vows never to let you see her like this - you must never find out. She cannot bear to witness the concern in your eyes when she feels unwell - it causes her great guilt, to think she may be a source of worry or pain in your life. She also cannot bear the thought of your disgust at her unrequited and entirely unwanted feelings towards you. Even if it means she must be cruel to you. Even if it means she must ignore your attempts to reach out, or channel her fear into rage. Even if it means she may never see you again.

There is a surgical procedure, she recalls, to rid oneself of Hanahaki Disease - with the price of ridding oneself entirely of the feelings causing the disease. Jane considers it, but she knows that in order to get treatment, she would have to admit to her unrequited feelings, in front of her brother, no less. The thought is humiliating. And there is a weight on her chest when she thinks of forgetting her love for you - something that, despite being the reason for her dismal state, has brought her a joyful reprieve from the dull ache of her general contempt for everyday life.

So she shuts you out. She shuts everyone out. She will die alone, and spare herself the inevitable heartbreak and humiliation. It is the only way.

~~~

You are woken early in the morning - earlier than usual - by a persistent knocking at the door to your chambers. For a moment you think you’ve overslept, but you quickly realize that isn’t the case. You blink the sleep out of your eyes and comb through your hair with your fingers to make yourself more presentable, then pad over to the door and open it. There’s Emily again, a grave expression on her face that makes your stomach twist and causes you to lose any sense of formality.

“What is it, what’s wrong?”

“It’s Miss Murdstone, she’s not well. Mr. Murdstone has requested your company at her bedside immediately.”

Your heart sinks and it feels as though ice is sluicing through your veins.

“T-thank you. I will be right there.”

Emily nods and bids you farewell, and you rush about your chambers to get dressed for the day - you doubt Jane would appreciate you giving up all sense of propriety and turning up in your night clothes. You pull your hair back, pinning it haphazardly in place before starting off towards Jane’s chambers, your walk turning into a jog turning into a run. You catch your breath at her door before knocking.

Once.

Twice.

There’s no answer.

“Milady? I’m coming in,” you call, trying (and failing) to control the tremble in your voice.

Entering her chambers, your eyes fall to the bed and you realize why you hadn’t received an answer. Jane lies on her back, eyes closed, cheeks sunken in. She looks like she has lost quite a bit of weight, surely a product of her missing meals for the past weeks. She is deathly pale and as you approach her with caution, you see the sheen of sweat on her brow. Her dark, matted locks spill over the pillow and stick to the perspiration on her neck.

“Milady? How are you feeling?” You drag the stool from her vanity to the bedside and settle down timidly, eyes raking over her weak form.

Her pale eyelashes flutter against her cheeks - you can tell she’s trying to open her eyes. Even in this state, gaunt and sickly, she looks hauntingly beautiful to you, so much so that it claws at your heart.

A cough racks her body, her shoulders shaking violently, her chest heaving. Her head lolls to the side and her mouth falls open as she coughs up a steady stream of small, white phlox petals.

You freeze when you see the petals. At first, horror washes over you at the sight of her gagging, at the deep red blood accompanying the petals. A slow understanding spreads throughout your entire body. Hanahaki Disease.

You’d had a cousin die from the disease when you were a child - you curse yourself for not recognizing the signs. There’s a pit forming in your stomach.

So Jane Murdstone has fallen in love.

Tears well up in your eyes and your heart clenches painfully. Jane has fallen in love - and she will die because of it.

She will die, leaving you alone and in search of new employment. She will die, not knowing the affection you hold for her in your heart. She will die, and you will have to go on without the sparkle of her eyes holding you captive whenever you catch her gaze, without the soft, melodic lilt of her voice brightening your dullest days.

You’ll miss her terribly (you already do). You like her, you really do… no, that isn’t quite right - you love her. The realization hits you like a train. You love Jane Murdstone, and it doesn’t matter.

You reach out tentatively and place your hand on top of Jane’s, squeezing gently. It’s the least you can do, to reassure her that you’ll be there for her when no one else seems to be. You shiver at the contact with her skin - it is quite cold in contrast to the warmth of your own, and this is more than you’ve ever dared touch her.

With your other hand you brush away some stray petals that stick to the blood on Jane’s cheek. There’s blood trickling out of her mouth and you swipe your thumb firmly down to her jaw, wiping it away as best you can. She should go out with dignity, you think.

“Milady, can you hear me?” you ask quietly. You don’t receive a response.

“Who is it?” You ask the question more for yourself than for her, you know she’s too weak to speak and you aren’t even sure she can hear you anyway. A single tear rolls down your cheek - you wipe it away with your sleeve. Your throat constricts, but there is something you want to say - you clear it roughly. When you speak, your voice has a pleading edge to it, desperation oozing out of your every pore.

“I love you, Jane. Please don’t leave me.” Any other day, you’d be afraid of being fired on the spot - for speaking out of turn, for voicing forbidden affections towards your employer, for addressing her by her first name. Today, you suppose, it doesn’t matter anymore. You feel lighter having said it - and heavier knowing it may be the last thing you ever say to her. Now that it doesn’t matter any longer, you lean over Jane’s face and press your lips firmly to her forehead. Perhaps this way she can feel she is loved, even if it’s not in the way - not by whom - she needs.

shout-out to @dianneking for being the catalyst to me writing this hehe <3 plus, gonna just tag everyone who has had the (dis)pleasure of me pestering them about this for the past month haha (love u): @yourlocaldisneyvillain @anti-bright-places @eveymay @scream-queenlover @orchidsshine @sapphicsbeloved @mrs-hilmarson

#jane murdstone #jane murdstone x reader #i desire. and i crave.#i desire. and i crave. series

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thighguys · 20 days

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alright guys i took the cue from everyone else on here and did my own dnp tarot reading 😊 @freckliedan i think you were collecting these? might as well add mine for the metrics lol... also i will take this opportunity to advertise the @dnptarot project im putting together, it's super cool!!!

okay so i used my fav tarot app as i dont actually have any physical sets lol but heres what ive got

my first 4 cards were just dan and phil vibe checks, like what are their general feelings. dans were the 9 of swords and the knight of swords.

9 of swords is definitely a negative card, lots of anxiety and fear swirling around something, but the knight appearing with it seems to me to imply just like- pushing through the fear. honestly reminds me of the time just before basically im gay, dan is scared but forging onward. knight of swords also implies a very fast pace, like things are moving really quickly which is DEFINITELY true and also matches with dans "what comes straight after" tweet. too many planets aligning at once etc, lots of shit is going DOWN lmao

phils cards were the king of wands and the 5 of pentacles.

king of wands is VERY leader/making big decisions/creative director, which makes me think that hes got something in the works here that hes going to be a big part of creating/directing (pride month mayhaps??) its also very much an opportunity card, like here is something that he can take and make great coming soon. 5 of pentacles honestly took me a minute to think about because usually its more about financial loss? but im thinking its maybe more about recognizing the necessity of help from others in difficult times. idk phil is getting help and is also a king 💪💪

my next question was about whether dnp were planning something big soon, and i pulled the high priestess and the 8 of wands

high priestess is literally ALL about trusting your intuition, and 8 of wands is once again very fast paced movement and changes approaching. so what im getting is a RESOUNDING yes lmao... phannies trust your intuition, the universe is telling us something and we should trust that itll come and itll come quickly lol

my last question was specifically about whether dnp are getting married lol (sorry cant help it im still on wedding hill) and i pulled the queen of swords and the 6 of cups

GOD this is insane to me... queen of swords to me is clarity and truth. every time ive pulled this card before it has been a reassurance to trust what i know and my ability to see whats in front of me... wedding hill... truth... idk guys... and then 6 of cups is all joy and happy memories (also can mean children? phregnancy announcement?) and what could be more joyful than a marriage? anyway once again these two cards are just a resounding yes so... im not pretending to know anything about their private lives but the cards havent lied yet lmao...

overall im just seeing a lot of fast moving cards and a LOT of positivity, creativity, and joy. the only negative card shown was in dans vibe check and that fits, but along with his other card i feel like the vibe i was getting was less "crippling fear" and more "brave enough to keep going anyway". basically i think we can expect smth big soon, and if it isnt a marriage announcement then ill stay on wedding hill until i die because i believe that the queen of swords knows wtf shes talking about ❤️❤️❤️

hope you guys liked this! if you want i can do more tarot readings in the future? lmk lol, or dm me if you want me to do readings for you... i really like doing them i love feeling connected to the universe

#phan #dan and phil #dnp #phandom #dip and pip #phil lester #dan howell #tarot #tarot reading #dnptarot

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slayter-kinney · 3 months

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i've been trying to formulate how i feel about wad and this era of phandom since i finally got the chance to watch wad all the way through with my girlfriend last night and after sobbing violently following the smash mouth credits i think i have some semblance of a train of thought. long ramble incoming after the read more hehe

for context, i've been watching dnp for about 10 years, which for some of you is an extremely long time and for others is piddly. regardless, a decade of my life has been spent in varying amounts watching dan and phil and interacting with the phandom. and part of what i was trying to express to my gf after watching the show was that it really is a sense of pride to see the sad clown poster child for being, well, sad, to open up about his mental health struggles, to coming out, to making we're all doomed. i think this is a very similar reaction to the pride a lot of us feel for dan.

for me too, though, it's been the phandom (hi guys lol). I was really active in the phandom from like 2014ish-2017 (at which point i still watched videos as they were posted but i also just wasn't on tumblr as much and i had ~college~ to focus on), but that time was very formative teenage years for me during which i was going through similar mental health struggles, struggling with sexuality, regular ol' teenage demons, etc. and this sort of phandom revival has been making me feel this ridiculous nostalgia for those teenage years (even tho i was fighting for my life the whole time lol). i can sooo distinctly remember where i was when certain videos were uploaded, the feeling of being curled up in my bed at midnight in the summer with my iphone 5c catching up on the previous years' videos, making subpar edits on my phannie instagram while i was on a plane for my family's summer vacation.

having both the boys and the phandom (more) active again gives me that nostalgic feeling but with the feeling that everything feels So Much Better Now. i get the same excitement and rush watching new videos, sharing around edits and gifs, being insane with you all, but with the knowledge that i am older and i am better now. in a lot of personal ways i'm literally living the life i so desperately wanted when i was a teen and now i get to live it but with the same things that brought me joy when i was a sad 15 year old. despite the nostalgia, i dont think i would choose to go back to that time, but getting to look back on it now, and watch videos where dan and phil are unapologetically gay and happy and soulmate-y, see dan living his theatre kid dreams and is so so proud of his work, and to have this community of you all where we're all old(er) and queer and so proud of our dads (sorry). it's indescribable despite my best efforts to describe it. and yes i know i don't actually talk to a lot of you that's cause im awkward and bad at replying but if you've made it this far this is your open invite to start a convo with me in dms/ask box. anyways. i love you all. i love our boys. im grateful to be here with all of you.

#okay to rb / add your own thoughts if you’d like!#dan and phil #phandom #dnp #daniel howell #we’re all doomed #phil lester #amazingphil #mine #phan

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ihopesocomic · 6 months

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I'm so sorry if it's too long but I just did a reread and decided to take a look at the designs on Toyhouse and it reminded me how much I love IHS.

I love all the designs of your characters, they are so deliberate. Take the Golden Grove family for example. Their fur colours perfectly match the name of this pride - all characters from this place are golden/have fur that's a certain shade of gold. Just by looking at them you can tell that they're related. But that's not everything.

I looked at the designs of three sisters and their parents and I noticed how some of the traits of their parents can be found in their daughters. Vicious is almost a copy of her mother Watchful, while Clever looks so much like her father Wild. They all have respectively a similar coIours and face shapes. In all of that Careful, the middle child here, is a perfect combination of her parents - she has her father's muzzle shape and eyes shape but her colour palette is more like her mother's. All marks are placed with so much thought that they help to recognise a character. The funny thing about the similarities with parents is that you probably created sisters first and then their parents - so you actually had to take a look at the sisters and then create their parents. While making sure everything made sense.

I tried to find similarities with Hope, Adamant and Quiet but I find it a bit harder, maybe cause they're still young. But older Hope definitely reminds me of Clever and Careful, rather than Vicious. Maybe it's the fur on her cheeks. I noticed that Adamant has the same fur colour as her grandfather, Jasper the First and I find it cute. And of course, how could I not mention Breccia and her freckles that she gave to all of her grandchildren. I love them <3

What I mean to say is that I adore how much thought and effort you put into your story. Every time I reread I find something new to adore. I love the plot and world, but I really like how you also put effort into your designs. You manage to make all characters stand out and be easy to recognise but you also find a way to make sure that audience can tell who is related to who. Thank you so much <3

And tbh I really like the new schedule with a page for week.

Well first of all, I do love a good wall of text, so don't apologize haha

Second, I'm glad you like the new schedule. It's actually activated the speculation part of the fandom, which we also love LOL

Third, THIS MAKES ME HAPPY! I love when people go back and notice the details we included. I did work backwards from the sisters to the parents, just because we had no intention on showing the grandparents, but people asked and I thought they'd be fun to design too. And they were! (This is to go with a previous ask, but this is also part of why we did away with color-coding, just cuz Wildfire looked great as a blonde, but maybe he's from somewhere sandy, who knows.) And it was interesting distributing all the different characteristics of them. Still not satisfied with Careful, I wish I'd thought on her a biiiiiiiit longer. I just didn't think anyone would care about her LOL

Hope will look more like Clever when she gets older, so once I can properly elongate her face, it'll be more obvious. I'm slowwwwwly gonna show them aging, Storm's hair will get longer, Adamant will be more buff, stuff like that. Right now (and people will see this on next week's page) Hope actually looks pretty similar to Careful. Careful just has to pull some more... Hopelike faces first for it to be obvious haha

Overall I'm happy with the designs and it brings me much joy to have people analyze them. Character concept is one of my favorite things to do, and I like being creative while being limited at the same time. Lions are a good way to practice that. So thank you again! - Cat

#ask #ask us stuff #cat answers #golden grove #vicious #careful #wild #watchful #clever #hopeful #adamant #jasper the first #breccia #thundering mountains

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illmetkismet · 4 months

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Hihihi!!!!! I Hope You don’t mind yet another ask from me!!!!!!! I’ve already said this before but I absolutely adore the way you answer questions and analyse stuff, it’s such a breath of fresh air to see!!!! This is totally self-indulgent so I hope you don’t mind me asking, but do you have any personal headcannons/analysis thoughts on Luis perhaps??? It feels strange to admit but he’s a very big special interest of mine so I just wanted an excuse to hear somebody else’s thoughts on him!! I hope You’re having a good day regardless!!!!

Always happy to see an ask from you, and don't even start with the strangeness or self-indulgence of being really into or asking about Luis; just yesterday I was wondering whether I should wait for spring to get a splish splash fish ankle tattoo or just do it now and deal with an itchy ankle in my winter boots lol...

So yeah, Luis is my love my turtledove the light of my life and I would LOVE the chance to talk about him!!! He was one half of why I got into resi in the first place (serennedy had me like 'hmmmm maybe horror games are not too scary for me if they have cuties in them....'), and every time I think about him my brain does that thing where you put your head in your hands and sigh while cartoon hearts float up above you...

He's just..... So good.... And despite that, he's made SUCH shitty choices. I love how painful that is for him, but that he's got enough self awareness to understand when he fucks up. He doesn't try to blame anyone else - he faces his mistakes and his own shortcomings (pride, willful ignorance, cowardice) head on, and tries so desperately to make up for them, even as he keeps making them.

I love that he's not some perfect angel, that he hangs on to the amber and intends on handing it over to Ada at first, in exchange for getting out of Valdelobos, despite knowing full well that no good will come of that. The part in Separate Ways where he tells her he doesn't care who she works for, could be the devil himself, so long as she gets him out of there was so shocking for me to hear at first, but then I realized that's the core of his tragedy - that he's a good man trapped in a horrible situation, and he's scared, he wants out, he wants to live so badly! Unlike Leon, he's got a healthy dose of self-preservation, and honestly, if I were in his shoes I would probably make the same choices.

But still - he runs into the burning lab, he risks his life to get the suppressant to Leon, he tells Ada he won't leave her, he picks up his 'lance' and says alright, let's go rescue the princess! He's so full of regret and fear and he keeps making shitty choices, but he also keeps doing the right thing.

The way he's written and acted is so rich and nuanced. Watching him, I understand exactly where he's coming from and every single one of his choices. Out of all the characters in re4r he feels the most real to me, the most human. Every second he's on screen is a joy, even the horrible painful seconds at the end.

I wanted him to live so badly, and not just because I like him, but because he wanted to live so badly... All the re6 AU's I've seen floating around where he meets up with Leon again are among my favourite things to come out of this fandom!! I know Capcom is never gonna do that, but in my head it's canon: when Ada told the helicopter pilot to change course she actually went back for Luis, gave him a little first aid spray, and then they joined forces and lalalala everything is fine!!

Ok I'm gonna wrap it up cause if I keep talking about him I'm gonna be late for work, but thank you so much for the chance to gush!! I love Luis so much and I think about him all the time.... My sweet bisexual disaster man..... Going to his death with a smile:

Aasdghhhgddfghjkljjgdaaddghgfdffhh......

#luis serra #resident evil

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ithaquasbbg · 9 months

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This is another character study, I don’t think these do well in tumblr lol but they’re very fun for me to write </33

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Happy birthday, brother

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Pairing: None. If you count a friendship then maybe Itha and Nathaniel getting to meet idk? No romance they’re literally brothers 😭

Tw: Near death experiences, Child neglect, Religious trauma (kinda?), this entire thing is really deep and Nathaniel just needs a hug.

…..

Ithaqua had never understood how lucky he was to have his mother by his side, to have a parent to love him unconditionally and celebrate milestones with him as he got older. Each year on his birthday, or the one his mother believed was his, she made sure to give him as many gifts as she could despite their financial troubles.

Even with not receiving the most in the world, he was grateful and always appreciated the effort his mother put into his birthday despite not being his true mother. It was the year before this, on his 17th birthday that mother told Ithaqua of his origins. “I found you in the forest one night during a blizzard.” She tells him, nervous to how he would take this information. “I don’t know why a perfectly healthy and adorable baby could have ever been abandoned the way you were..” Ithaqua’s eyes widen as he listen, though not out of anger.

“I always wanted a child, you know? So I was more than happy to take you in.. to make sure I could give you a good life the way I would my own child.” Ithaqua gets up and quickly embraces his mother, holding her tight for a long time. “Mother, I love you so much, you know that?” She laughs and wipes her eyes, having gotten emotional while telling her story. “I love you more, my baby boy” with that, she leaves a kiss on Ithaqua’s forehead, causing him to groan “I’m not a baby, mother..” he whispers, to which she only laughs, ruffling his hair “you’re never too old to be my baby, Ithaqua.”

….

Nathaniel on the other hand, had never celebrated his birthday, it wasn’t seen as necessary by his parents. So year after year, he’d sit in his room for hours doing the work that has been asked of him. He had no doubt his parents didn’t love him, that they simply had him out of necessity rather than to have a child of their own.

When he was younger, he’d find himself sobbing and wishing he could have been born anywhere else, to a family that had truly loved him. Those cries fell upon deaf ears, and year after year his parents would keep him in his bedroom, not doing much more than to offer him dinner as usual.

He had never been enough for mother and father, he knew this. Since the moment he was born, his parents acted as if he was only a fraction of what they wanted. Even as a little kid, he was forced into studying endlessly, not allowed to play with other children normally.

The townspeople gave their children birthday parties, and he could feel himself harboring nothing but resentment, even now at 18, he still found himself longing for someone, anyone to think he was deserving enough to be celebrated. All he had ever wanted was to know why his parents resented him so much, why they acted like they didn’t even want him.

He sneaks into his parents room during the short time frame they’re out, rummaging through diaries from years past, landing on one from the year he was born. “Why was the cuter child the stillborn one? It’s almost like the other child was cursed to ruin this family, his ugly face cursed to take away our pride and joy.”

Nathaniel’s eyes widen as he covers his mouth, trying to hard to keep himself from falling apart. Page after page lists what they had done to his poor twin brother, the reasons they resented Nathaniel, all of it.

Unable to take it anymore, he throws the diary into a mirror, causing it, along with his own reflection to shatter into millions of pieces. For years, he prayed they were just strict, that they may have had some love for their son.. but seeing his parents hatred for their own son ruined his own self perception.

He’s almost blinded by his tears as he runs into the woods behind his home, harsh wind and snow making it difficult for him to move, to think straight. Eventually, he collapses on the ground next to a tree, unable to feel anything other than the freezing cold, and the pain in his own throat from screaming so much, screaming to the god who had brought him to this world as a curse.

The god he had worshiped for years only created him to ruin the lives of others, he wasn’t a being deserving of gods love or forgiveness, especially when he was simply made as a joke, to inflict pain. Nathaniel feels the tears running down his face slowly freezing as he curls up into himself, terrified of his almost guaranteed death. “Please god.. listen to one of my prayers.. don’t let me die here..” he croaks, losing consciousness shortly after this last prayer.

….

Ithaqua and his mother are walking back from the lake at sunset, a heavy snowstorm picking up around them as they begin to rush to get home. “Mother..” Ithaqua sees something in the distance, motioning for his mother to come look. “Somebody’s out here in the middle of nowhere during a blizzard..” Mother quickly hands Ithaqua her stuff and runs in the direction of the footsteps, leading Ithaqua to follow her.

What awaits them is a scene that shocks both Ithaqua and his mother. A young man who’s identical to Ithaqua, freezing to death on the side of a snow covered pathway, frozen tears on his now blue tinted cheeks. “Ithaqua, put the baskets down! We need to get him inside!” Ithaqua quickly obeys, setting the baskets on the ground and helping mother carry the young man into their cabin, setting him on the couch as mother rushes to find anything to warm him up, eventually setting on running a warm bath, placing the unconscious young man in it.

For what feels like hours the two watch over the mysterious man, in worry that he had already passed. Just when they’re about to give up, he opens his eyes slightly, squinting as he looks around, his eyes finding their way to Ithaqua. “…who are you?” He whispers, trying to understand what’s going on.

Ithaqua shrugs, grabbing a warm towel and pressing it onto Nathaniel’s head while mother goes to the kitchen to grab some warm tea. “…could you… were you found in the forest?” His voice is weak, but just audible enough for Ithaqua to hear him. “Yes.. at birth, May I ask why you want to know?”

Nathaniel pulls a few papers with his shaking hands, they’re soaked but legible enough for Ithaqua to understand. As soon as he reads them, he calls for mother and shows her the papers. Her eyes widen in shock before she grabs onto Nathaniel, holding him tight. “I’m so sorry darling.. nobody deserves this”

The feeling of touch causes Nathaniel to lose it in the woman’s arms, letting out years and years of repressed sadness and frustration as he cries, refusing to let go of the person in front of him, the first person who had ever treated him like a human, rather than some creation.

“Please.. please don’t bring me back home” he mumbles, feeling Ithaqua’s hands rubbing his back as mother continues holding him, his thin frame shaking violently with every breath. “Shh.. darling, I’d never do that to you” she whispers, tucking a piece of hair behind Nathaniel’s ear while wiping his eyes. “I’ll keep you darling, it gives me one more person to love..”

….

The next morning, Nathaniel wakes up on a small bed, dressed in dry clothing with his hair tied back. He slowly gets out of bed, noticing the smell of breakfast coming from right outside his room. He peeks out, seeing Ithaqua and his mother each holding two small gift boxes.

“It’s nothing much, Darling, but allow us to give you something you deserve.” Nathaniel sits down and slowly opens the boxes, his eyes filling with tears at the simple gifts given to him, turning and hugging the both of them as he cries tears of joy for the first time in his entire life, holding the small trinkets close to him.

“Thank you..” he whispers, admiring the small plush he had been given, much like a child would. He didn’t care about the nature of the gift, however. Nathaniel simply holds the bear close to his chest, wiping his eyes as he looks at Ithaqua and his.. now their mother. For the first time in his entire life, he feels complete, he feels whole, Nathaniel finally feels loved.

#idv fandom #idv fanfic #idv headcanons #idv imagines #idv x reader #idv scenarios #idv matchup #idv ithaqua #idv night watch #identity v ithaqua #night watch idv #night watch #ithaqua idv #identity v night watch #idv

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egg-emperor · 10 months

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Thoughts on the idea of eggman doing horribly vile shit but still wanting to be seen as in the right for it, like “oh I’m not making them slaves it’s protective robot skin haha”

Feel like it could be an interesting twist on his char, kinda got some of those vibes from the park in colors, the full corporate speak and like, trying to make this obviously evil plan look not evil, feel like there’s a lot to be done there

I love love looove it, that's what I was expressing a desire to share more concepts of just the other day. I have some I've been meaning to share but my favorite part is when he finally drops the act and shows his true colors and mocks them for it like a cold hearted bastard so I focus on that most lol. I do wanna delve into the build up more though.

He has indeed done it in various official media already like X, Archie, games, and promo material and I absolutely loved every instance of it. But since I'm a game canon guy primarily I'm just gonna focus on that for this reply, though in the future I'm probably going to share what I liked about the cases even outside them because I appreciate it in many places.

I love how one of the things about how he likes to take things that are generally considered childish like toys, theme parks, carnivals, circuses, etc and has his own twisted fucked up spin on it is how it can also be used to lure people in with the bright colors and usually perceived innocence of it. The times Eggman has played into it is interesting.

With Eggmanland in Unleashed, he was upfront about the hell on earth that it was to Sonic because he knew he wouldn't have believed his trickery, plus he takes pride in the fact. He enjoyed teasing him with the "If you have any complaints, come deliver them to me in person. If you can, that is!" to emphasize that it was the theme park of horror >:)

Plus the atmosphere was a lot darker so despite the neon colors, it probably wouldn't have fooled anyone Sonic or not. But he still had the Eggshop be a thing where horrible sawdust and motor oil tasting food was sold to make it horrible and unpleasant for his sadistic amusement, so maybe he would've hoped to trick people regardless?

We don't get to know for sure there but in Colors he wants lots of visitors and he really had to do some immense trickery make sure it seemed innocent and appealing enough to get them to use a space elevator to travel all the way up there lol. It's a lot more colorful and fun looking than the more dark and polluted looking Eggmanland from afar.

So for the Interstellar Park, the trickery is both in its design and his words with how he pretended it was a happy wonderland of fun with nothing to do with any evil plot or premeditated misdeeds. What I love is how once you've gotten all the way up there in space, you're fucked. You'll get messed up and killed one way or another.

In his PAs when you're actually inside, the act is dropped quick. He lies about some of it being safer than it looks but for the most part? All his lines are brutally honest about how messed up it really is, with the Wisps he harmed, blatantly acknowledges the dangers of the rides and planets, and how they can cause death, horror, and fear.

I love how sadistic he is in the PAs and his morbid humor that reveals how truly sick he is and that this park was created for anything but pure innocent reasons. He intended for the rides to be deadly and food to be bad and finds it very amusing. He probably loves the idea of these tricked people coming in and quickly becoming horrified and afraid.

But it still looks so colorful and fun from afar! It's so beautiful and with the joys he promises, how could you not want to go? So while it works to lure people in, it can also give its true horrors even more impact when visitors expect something nice but the dangerous disturbing and terrifying reality is revealed and I'm sure that's very appealing to him too.

So you get this funny combination of him both trying to deceive you but then quickly becoming brutally honest as soon as you're successfully trapped in it. This is exactly what happened in the SPINGEAR ride too, where he was immediately like "haha sike you're actually in for a terrible time!" as soon as the ride began and was loving it.

But I think the idea of him playing the long game with his trickery and deceit is interesting too. We've mostly only seen cases where it's a lot quicker like that but he's set up well for him to do an elaborate scheme of dragging it out for longer and the impact would hit extra hard after all that time too, which he'd definitely enjoy and mock after.

The Eggman Empire propaganda Sonic Forces promo video was cool because Eggman was trying to convince people the world being a dark polluted hellscape is actually a good thing, which reflects his twisted idea of a "perfect" world shaped his image, where he has the power of the control and the sadistic enjoyment of the harsh conditions.

Then because people obviously need the clean air to live, he tries to trick them into thinking robotomy is a wonderful helpful treatment for it. That never needing to eat, sleep, or think again is a good thing and that they'll love it. When really it's a trick to get them to submit to him, have control over them and strip them of their freedom and free will.

But there's an eerie glimpse at how he really knows none of this right with how he says love is mandatory. Once he's tricked them and they've submitted and given up their freedom and will, he can use them as he pleases and keep them controlled and brainwashed but if they do realize how fucked up it is there's no going back, they're trapped in it now.

I'd really like to see more of that, where he tries to tell people the vile things he does are genuinely great, for their own good, are nice and selfless of him and genuinely beneficial for them. Where he manages to manipulate so well to the point of mass delusion and brainwashing with people that follow him believing he's doing something the right thing.

It's good to be a mindless slave under his control, never having to think for yourself again! Trapping living beings in robots improves upon nature and is better and more beneficial than natural! The deadly attractions are what real fun and excitement really is! The brutal sadistic punishments if they fall out of line is for their own good! There's no meaning to life if it isn't to serve him and the world is better under his control!

And the idea of people actually believing that in the Sonic universe and following him is interesting to think about. Even though it bothers me when people do it in real life and believe his lies and think he actually has good intentions but I mean hey, they give me an example of what it'd be like at least. Eggman really is a good actor, props to him! XD

I have a few ideas I'd like to share in the future. Showing love, care, and false acts of kindness to trick and manipulate, or not even hiding his vile actions but managing to convince people it's good or that the end justifies the means, and have them falling for it and he sees how far he can take it makes it especially impactful and devastating.

Delusion, deceit, manipulation, and gaslighting in general is very fascinating to me after years of experiencing it and I've always wanted to understand it from the perpetrator's perspective and portray it as dark and disturbing as it really is. It's always been interesting for me to explore in Eggman too, from when he's manipulating specific characters to the masses. I've actually been researching big cases of mass delusion in history again lately so this is timely.

Pulling people into the empire with the lie that it's something great that will benefit everyone but their leader has much darker intentions and the true final outcome will benefit only himself, but he strings them along on a lie, brainwashes them, and has control though mind games and trickery is fascinating and thrillingly devious.

Then slowly or abruptly realizing it's a lie and the impact when it all comes crashing down and Eggman spits and laughs in their face and mocks them for having a heart and wanting to see good in him/believing and having hope in good coming from it. It emphasizes his coldness and cruelty and how much of a threat he is even to the mind.

And if that happens he'll try to shut down their doubts and lie more to keep them deluded because he knows just what they want to hear and promises them they'll get it. So if they don't believe it's right, the ends justify the means. And if that doesn't work, he'll threaten them to keep them in so they can't leave, or have them dealt with.

But he's so good at taking advantage of people's vulnerabilities, saying what they want to hear, and embedding lies so deeply into their minds to warp reality into what he wants them to believe that sometimes they may be too far gone and never see the truth. And he takes it to the darkest places, using them all up and harming them and they die in vain.

Every outcome has the potential to be very fascinating, entertaining, and impactful!

#asks #dr eggman #eggman #dr robotnik #dr. eggman #my post #trickery #manipulation #headcanons #deceit

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