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bosbas · 5 days

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Chapter 6: in a world of boys he's a gentleman

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pairing: colin bridgerton x enemy!fem!reader WC: 4.2k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, Eloise being the best, Colin finally having brain cell(s), but then very quickly losing aforementioned brain cells

Summary: It took precisely two days in England for you to utterly despise Colin Bridgerton. It took him approximately twelve hours after that to hate you right back. But he doesn't care that you're the only person in the ton who doesn't like him. You're set to marry someone else anyway, right?

May 30, 1816 – One week has passed since the unfortunate revelation of Lord Barlow’s true nature, and Lady Y/N Montclair has yet to make an appearance at a ball. Could it be that the Duke’s betrayal has left her too disillusioned? Perhaps the eligible gentlemen of London have failed to meet her exacting standards. One can't help but wonder if Lady Y/N be present at tonight’s ball, where the ton's most eligible bachelors will undoubtedly be vying for her attention now that she is decidedly searching for a new suitor. Who among them shall be lucky enough to capture her attention? This author does not know, but hopefully, this evening reveals more of Lady Montclair’s intentions.

Colin was grinding his teeth, his right eye twitching slightly as he glared at Eloise, with whom he had been arguing for the better part of the last hour.

“It’s not like I haven’t tried to be agreeable! She’s just impossible,” he ground out.

Colin was about finished with having to face criticism from his sister when you were the one who had ignored his attempt at a truce.

“It certainly doesn’t help that you rile her up every single time you see her. She’s trying to find a husband, mind you!” Eloise shouted back.

She had grown quite close to you in the past weeks, and she knew the kind of pressure you were under tonight. It was your first ball after finding out the Duke had sneaked away from the Bridgerton ball with Miss Barrington, and your full focus would be on finding a new suitor. Eloise generally preferred to stay out of your neverending conflict with Colin, but she knew he would never understand what you were going through. The very least she could do was ensure that he acted decently toward you, though it seemed like even that would prove a challenge.

“Exactly! I was the one who wanted to warn her about Lord Barlow’s betrayal, and now she thinks I’m the one who gave him access to our courtyard,” snapped Colin.

He couldn’t believe Eloise. How could she not see that you were one of the most infuriating, unpleasant, and insolent people in the ton? Why was she so intent on defending you? Colin was irritated beyond belief, and he wanted nothing more than to never speak with you again after the horse races. You had promptly ignored him after accusing him of orchestrating Lord Barlow and Miss Barrington’s escapade, and he spent the rest of the afternoon angrily stealing glances at you as you chatted pleasantly with his sister.

And to learn that you still wanted to find a husband? You could become a spinster, for all he cared. And he didn’t. He didn’t care. About you or about Lord Barlow, or frankly, about anything that had transpired since the Bridgerton ball. All he knew was that tonight, he would be forced to watch you bat your eyelashes and giggle softly as you talked to countless men when all he got from you were angry stares and sarcastic laughs.

“She’s the one who doesn’t want to be on good terms with me,” he added stubbornly, crossing his arms.

Eloise let out an exasperated groan and rolled her eyes. “Colin! Can you not find it in yourself to set aside your dislike for her and understand that she is an unmarried lady who just lost a titled man she was practically guaranteed to marry? She is in a precarious situation, not to mention feeling heartbroken and betrayed.”

In truth, Colin thought, he didn’t understand. He couldn’t even begin to. He had never faced that kind of pressure before, certainly not about something as trivial as marriage, and suddenly he felt guilty for wanting to spend the entire evening tormenting you so he could avoid watching you amass suitors.

Sensing that her words had struck a nerve, Eloise took advantage of her brother’s waning resolve. “You are Colin Bridgerton, Mayfair’s sweetheart! I don’t understand why you can’t act that way with her.”

“She doesn’t want that! She doesn’t want me!” Colin yelled, pinching the bridge of his nose as he screwed his eyes shut in frustration.

But Eloise didn’t let up. “I’ll wager she wants that tonight. You don’t need to kiss the ground she walks on. Just be civil and refrain from any ungentlemanly conduct. It’s her first ball since the Lord Barlow scandal, and she doesn’t need to look bad in front of a crowd of eligible bachelors.”

“I don’t ever do it on purpose!” he defended.

“You could’ve fooled me,” scoffed Eloise. Then, softening her tone, she added, “Just tonight. Please.”

“Fine,” he relented.

If it was so important to Eloise, he would do it. He supposed he would want someone to do that to Eloise if she was ever in your same position. But he was already dreading the night. He had never particularly enjoyed balls, and he knew tonight would be especially dreadful. Usually, your arguments provided prime entertainment, and if he wasn’t allowed to fight with you tonight, he would just have to endure the monotony of the ballroom without any respite.

---

You drew in a sharp breath as you entered the ballroom, looking around at the crowd nervously. Charlotte placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and led you toward the back of the room. Had she chosen to go to the furthest place from the entrance simply to torture you? You were nervous enough as it was; you didn’t need the added anxiety of having everyone’s eyes on you as you walked through the crowd.

You had opted for an elegant white gown tonight. Well, your mother had suggested it and you had inevitably agreed to wear it.

“It’s meant to look like a wedding dress!” she had exclaimed earlier. “It shows you’re still in the marriage mart despite everything that’s happened, and you’ll have gentlemen queuing up to dance with you.”

Whatever the reasoning behind the gown, you had to admit that it was beautiful. It accentuated your figure, and you could already feel plenty of keen eyes on you and more than a few furtive whispers. Though you couldn’t make out exactly what people were saying, you were sure you heard your name mentioned several times. However, you smiled gracefully at everyone anyway, wanting to avoid being seen as a complete laughingstock after losing Arthur. The Duke, you corrected yourself. He was no longer Arthur to you.

“Y/N,” you heard Eloise’s excited voice beside you.

You turned to see her smiling face and squeezed Charlotte’s hand to let her know she could go on without you.

“Hello, El,” you greeted, smiling wide.

“The balls have been torture without you! I’m so glad you’re finally here,” she gushed, taking your hand and leading you to a less crowded part of the ballroom.

You relaxed slightly. At least one person here didn’t hate you. But perhaps she was the only one. As you kept speaking with Eloise, you realized that not a single bachelor had come to ask you for a dance. Usually, you had to reject quite a few gentlemen within the first few minutes of being at a ball, but your dance card remained empty tonight.

Swallowing nervously, you looked around the room and assessed the gravity of your situation. Plenty of people were staring at you, but no one had moved toward you. Were they waiting for someone else to walk up to you? Did they not want to be the first to dance with you? Or did this mean that Lord Barlow’s actions had well and truly ruined you? Feeling the familiar beginnings of tears forming in your eyes, you quickly started to panic. What would your parents say?

You were trying to focus on Eloise’s words, but all you could hear was your rapid heartbeat, and you were surprised people around you couldn’t hear it, too. Your stomach flipped uncomfortably as you realized that you might have truly fallen out of favor with the ton. The thought made you feel sick. This wasn’t how you wanted the season to go. How you needed it to go.

Just as you were ready to bolt outside in search of fresh air, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Your stomach clenched, and for a fleeting moment, you hoped it was Colin Bridgerton. As much as you weren’t looking forward to the inevitable antagonism you would face from him, and as much as you knew that he wasn’t interested in anything from you other than an argument, the thought of engaging with someone of the opposite gender provided a fleeting sense of relief. Anything to momentarily divert your thoughts from the Duke's betrayal and the disheartening realization of your diminished standing in society. Although knowing Colin, he would probably bring up the subject just to spite you.

However, as you turned around, you came face to face with your brother. A tiny rush of disappointment coursed through you, and you crinkled your face in confusion. It was a disconcerting realization, indeed, to find yourself yearning for the company of Colin Bridgerton, the very individual you despised most in the ton.

Leaning down close to you, Louis asked lowly, “Ça va?” (Are you alright?).

“Louis,” you rolled your eyes and nodded, trying to convince him–and yourself–that you were fine. “Ça va” (I’m alright).

“Excuse me just a moment,” spoke Eloise as she looked between you and your brother. She squeezed your hand and turned around, leaving you with Louis.

You cringed, internally hearing your parents scolding you for speaking French around her. But Louis, unphased by Eloise’s exit, spoke again. “Non, j’suis serieux. On peut y aller,” he insisted (No, I’m serious. We can leave).

It was nice of him to check up on you. But it only left you feeling worse, a sobering reminder that your situation was dire enough that your brother was actually being sweet to you.

As much as you would have liked to, you knew you couldn’t leave the ball. It would only make it worse to flee now. Your parents had already allowed you a weeklong break from social events, and they would be most displeased to find out that you were giving up so soon after your re-entry into society.

So, you steeled yourself, forcing yourself to keep your tone light. “Leave the ball? For me or for you?” you asked Louis, poking him teasingly.

He relaxed upon hearing your light tone, letting out a breath as he smiled down at you. Your parents had asked him to be especially careful with you tonight, and he was left with sickening worry. You were his little sister, and as much as you had your differences, he still thought himself in charge, at least partially, of your wellbeing.

The worst part was that he knew exactly the kind of man Andrew Barlow was, and he was beside himself with guilt that he had even let the man near you. But you seemed to be getting through it, he noted, relieved.

Colin was rooted to the spot across the ballroom, staring at you as you engaged in easy conversation with your brother. How you could be so disagreeable toward him, and completely pleasant with everyone else was absolutely beyond him.

But what really caught his attention tonight was your attire. You were wearing a white gown, and he briefly wondered if that was what your wedding dress would have looked like. He couldn’t help it; you looked positively stunning, and he was angry because he knew if he even attempted to talk to you, you would most likely bite his head off.

Colin jumped as he felt a tap on his shoulder, slightly embarrassed at having been discovered staring at you. He turned around to face his mother and Eloise smiling far too innocently for his liking.

“Colin, go dance with Y/N, please.”

“Can’t Benedict do it?” Colin pleaded. He would do anything not to have to speak with you right this moment. It was far better to look at you from a distance, where he could pretend you didn’t completely despise him.

“He’s dancing with Penelope Featherington at the moment, so no. Colin, it’s one dance!” Violet responded, exasperated.

“It’s not like she won’t have anyone else asking her,” grumbled Colin unhappily. Though, come to think of it, he hadn’t actually seen anyone ask you for a dance tonight.

“Colin,” Eloise pleaded. “If they see you dancing with her, they’ll be more inclined to speak with her.”

Remembering his conversation with his sister from earlier, Colin accepted defeat, mumbling a low “just this once.”

He found himself growing increasingly nervous as he made his way over to you, and he clenched his fists to keep his hands from shaking. What had gotten into him? This was merely a dance like any other. He’d done it many times before, and he could do it with you.

He cleared his throat as he reached your side, drawing you out of your conversation with Louis.

“Not you, too,” you sighed upon seeing him. “I’ve had enough of a difficult time today without your input.”

Colin was momentarily unable to speak, though he quickly recovered. At this point, he didn’t know why kept being so surprised that you thought so lowly of him.

He was not like the rest of the cruel members of the ton, he thought defiantly. And he would show you just how unlike them he was. This was the real Colin Bridgerton, not the insecure, combative version of him that seemed to slip out whenever you were near.

“A dance, Lady Montclair. I came to ask for a dance,” he said patiently, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Don’t act like you’ve got a full dance card,” he rolled his eyes. Alright, maybe he couldn’t completely shake his hostile demeanor.

"Mr. Bridgerton, that is-”

“Please.”

“Why?” came your indignant response.

“We can say we’re both doing it for Eloise if that will make you feel better,” he said, eyebrows raised.

Unsure, you turned to look at Louis beside you, who gave you an unimpressed look and gently nudged you in Colin’s direction.

“Fine,” you huffed.

He let out a breath and reached for your dance card. “Thank you.”

Suddenly, Colin became hyperaware of his surroundings. Every sensation was heightened, and it was almost too much for him to hold your hand as he led you toward the dance floor. He had never had this much physical contact with you, bar the times you had not-so-accidentally stepped on his foot, and he was struggling to maintain his composure.

Your hand felt so delicate in his, and he was actively resisting the urge to interlock your fingers with his. Where had that come from? Why was it that he could never get a grip when he was around you?

Colin was forced back to the present moment as you reached the dance floor, and he carefully set one hand on your waist and used the other to hold your hand, getting into position before the music started playing.

His stomach was in about a thousand knots, and he awkwardly shifted his hand placement, unsure about whether he was making too much physical contact with you. With the way you looked tonight, Colin would have been happy to keep his hands on you all night, but he was sure you did not share the sentiment, and the last thing he wanted was to inadvertently make you uncomfortable. If he was going to make you upset, he would much rather have done it on purpose and off the dance floor. But that’s not what Eloise has asked of him, so he settled for gingerly holding your waist, his fingers carefully touching the smooth fabric of your dress.

Much to his chagrin, Colin stumbled slightly as the music started in an attempt to begin dancing with you. This was not at all how the most charming member of the ton was supposed to act, he scolded himself, cringing. Perhaps it was a good thing you had never agreed to dance with him before this, and that he never got the chance to properly pursue you as a suitor. If merely a turn about the dance floor with you had him feeling so out of sorts, he couldn’t even imagine what kissing you must have felt like.

Except now he was imagining what kissing you would feel like. His gaze suddenly fixated on your lips, and he wondered why he had never noticed how inviting they looked. It would be so easy to simply lean down, ever so slightly, and touch his lips to yours. Perhaps it would cause a scandal, given that you were in the middle of a ball, but he rather thought it would be worth it. Just a few-

“Keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Bridgerton” your sharp voice cut through his musings.

Colin blinked, brought back to the present moment in an instant. It appeared that, in his rather improper daydream, his hold on your waist had tightened considerably. Irritation bubbled up inside of him as he softened his grip. It seemed that nothing had changed between the two of you, after all. His attempts at playing nice had been, as per usual, futile.

“I’m not sure if you’re familiar with the concept of dancing, Lady Montclair, but it necessitates at least some level of physical contact,” he snapped, glaring but still unable to look away from your lips.

Unfortunately, his words were punctuated by another stumble as he fought to stay upright and keep moving to the music, and he had to hold onto you to avoid toppling over.

“What is the matter with you?” you hissed. “Did you never learn how to dance?”

Colin looked down at you, grimacing and expecting to find the furious glare on your face he so often received. But your eyes were elsewhere. They were skittishly looking around the room, and your mouth was settling into a deeper and deeper frown.

He noticed you anxiously chewing on your lip, your hand slightly shaky in his, though you were doing well to hide it. He felt like an idiot. Of course you were uneasy. It was your first dance trying to find a new suitor, and he was making you look like a fool in the middle of the dance floor. Colin felt his own anxiety melt away, replaced by a strange protectiveness he wasn’t sure he was familiar with.

“Just look at me,” he whispered as he twirled you.

You were too anxious to do anything but follow his instructions, and your eyes shifted to him instantly. He looked concerned, and you wondered whether it was concern for you or because he had almost fallen face-first in the middle of the dance floor. Either way, you were grateful you had something to focus on that wasn’t the constant obvious stares you were getting from everyone around you.

But, as Colin twirled you once again, you made eye contact with a man you had danced with on a few occasions. Before you could smile politely, he turned away to whisper something to the person beside him, and your face fell. As you returned to face Colin, you couldn’t help but look over his shoulder to see who would be the next person to prove that you were ruined.

You felt a squeeze at your waist, and your eyes came back to Colin’s.

“They don’t matter. Pretend it’s just me and you,” he said softly, reeling you in effortlessly. “Well, perhaps your sister as well, just in case you attempt to murder me.”

You couldn’t help it, you let out a soft giggle and bit your lip to keep from bursting into laughter. And though you were still surrounded by people surely itching to see you stumble and fall, you felt the rest of the ballroom fading away. As long as you kept looking at Colin, and he kept looking at you, there was nothing that could distract you.

“I haven’t been in England that long, but I’m fairly certain murder is illegal here,” you quipped, smiling warmly at Colin for what was probably the first time.

“I’m fairly certain it’s illegal in every place I’ve been to, but I’m not so sure that would stop you,” he said back, a positively rakish smile on his face. But you were far too distracted by his mention of his travels to notice.

“You’ve traveled? Eloise hasn’t mentioned much,” you said curiously.

“I’ve mostly traveled by myself,” he explained, now completely composed, previous stress forgotten, and finding himself enjoying your company. “My family doesn’t have the same penchant for adventure as me, so I usually set off on my own.”

You hummed thoughtfully. This, you hadn’t expected. Now you knew that you and Colin shared a love for travel, and it was a very unpleasant feeling, indeed. You had spent so long trying to distance yourself from him, and it was slightly disconcerting to know that the two of you had something in common. Especially something so embedded in who you were.

“Where was the last place you went to?”

“Greece,” he answered, smiling down at you. “I came back just before the season started. My mother was quite upset with me when she saw my tan.”

You laughed, perfectly picturing Violet’s hand over her chest as she saw her son after spending weeks in the sun. “You’re mad! If I had your kind of freedom, I certainly would not have stayed in England for as long as you have. Why haven’t you left since?”

“I- I’m not sure,” Colin answered. Why had he stayed so long? Usually, he liked to travel during the summer months, but he had stayed put so far and had no upcoming travel plans. “I suppose I am enjoying the season this year.” Was he really, though?

But you had already moved on to your next question. “The language is quite challenging, no? Did you learn at all? How long were you in Greece?”

Colin could have kissed you then and there. His family rarely showed interest in his travels, seldom responding to his letters, and once back in the ton, no one else bothered to inquire about his time abroad. Thus, he found himself pleasantly surprised by your curiosity, even if it was you—of all people—who displayed it.

As your conversation unfolded, Colin realized he was thoroughly enjoying himself. The effortless banter, combined with the tingling sensation that coursed through him whenever your hand grazed his neck, made him feel as though he were soaring high above the ballroom floor.

What if you had said yes that night at the Danbury ball? What if you had accepted his invitation to dance? Would it have felt as remarkable, as natural as this moment? Or was the allure of having you in his arms heightened simply because you had already rejected him?

Colin supposed he might have fallen for you that very night at the Danbury ball, had the circumstances been different. He could have seen himself, in a fit of romantic fervor, asking for your hand in marriage mere days afterward. Perhaps, then, it was lucky that you seemed to have an instant disdain for him. It likely spared him from acting the fool. Though truth be told, he often found himself behaving quite foolishly in your presence regardless.

As the dance ended, Colin found himself yearning to continue speaking with you. He grabbed your hand in his, feeling much more composed this time, and led you away from the dance floor. But he barely had time to turn back around to face you and continue your conversation before a trio of suitors came up and asked you to dance. Before he knew it, you were being swept away once more, this time on the arm of someone else.

Colin congratulated himself on a job well done as he made his way back to where Eloise stood, deftly declining a gentleman's offer to dance. It was a triumph, he thought, that Colin had gone more than five minutes without arguing with you, and you had even laughed at something he said! It felt far better than whatever hostile rapport the two of you usually had.

“Thank you,” Eloise smiled gratefully at her brother. “Now, was that so difficult?” she added in a teasing tone.

“I will have you know that yes, it was,” answered Colin stubbornly, but he knew he was lying even before the words came out of his mouth. Gliding across the dance floor with you in his arms had felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Even now, as you twirled gracefully in the arms of another, Colin found himself not seething with jealousy as he might have expected, but rather in a state of awe. There was something enchanting about the sight of you, and he couldn't tear his gaze away.

Then, unexpectedly, your eyes met his over the shoulder of your current dance partner, and you bestowed upon him a heart-stopping smile, silently mouthing a 'thank you'. Colin had to feign a cough to cover up the giggle he had just let out. A giggle? From Colin Bridgerton, certified rake? What on Earth were you doing to him?

—

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baldchristianborle · 9 months

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Defending Aziraphale cause I KNOW y’all are gonna come for him:

1. a lot of people say that him deciding to go back to heaven is a character regression and doesn’t make sense- but it does! aziraphale has 6000+ years of repressed trauma from doing what heaven tells him! and even if he does seem to be taking steps forward (shades of gray), he never fully takes that big leap away from heaven (very LIGHT shades of gray). you can’t just recover from it!

2. also, we never actually see him get over the demons bad angels good thing. crowley is the only exception to this rule, in his eyes. he still views the Fall as a bad thing, which is why he wants them to be angels together!

3. people are also saying that it’s crazy ineffable bureaucracy got together so fast without too much internal conflict, unlike the (now divorced) husbands. but it makes sense because GABRIEL AND BEELZEBUB RAN THE SYSTEM. AND CROWLEY WAS CLEARLY A HIGH RANKING ANGEL WHO FELL VERY EARLY ON, MAKING HIM VERY DISILLUSIONED WITH THE SYSTEM. aziraphale mever got that chance- he was a lower ranking angel that was beaten down by this system, and as such doesn’t see that it’s the system that’s corrupt, not just the angels within. he still believes that heaven is a GOOD place filled with BAD angels, because he has literally never had the chance to learn otherwise.

and this is why it narratively makes perfect sense for him to become the supreme archangel- he’ll finally be able to see that the idea of heaven is corrupt because he’ll be in charge of it!

4. aziracrow have also been shown to be a direct parallel to nina and maggie. in the last episode, nina says that they’re not ready for a relationship because she just left her incredibly toxic and abusive partner. aziraphale and nina are in very similar situations! he literally just left heaven, which was incredibly toxic and abusive, and might not be ready for a relationship with crowley yet! however, unlike nina, he doesn’t fully believe that his previous situation was toxic, so he goes back- because he hasn’t seen enough to understand!

5. he clearly wants to FIX the system, not just be a part of it, because he is intrinsically such a selfless being. he still hasn’t learned to put what he actually wants before what he thinks everybody needs yet, because, again, he doesn’t understand how heaven works!

in conclusion i love aziraphale and i haven’t slept because i’ve been thinking about the finale so lmk if this doesn’t make sense but i will not be changing my thoughts about aziraphale

ALSO KEEP REWATCHING GOOD OMENS WE NEED SEASON 3

#good omens #crowley #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #good omens spoilers #gos2 spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #spoilers

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jccatstudios · 1 year

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Six of Crows Character Design Notes

As promised, here are my character design notes for this! These are all Six of Crows era and not Crooked Kingdom. The grayscale versions have four distinct values to have a comic feel, which may not match up with the color designs. Also, I’m certain I’ll continue to change up these designs, give them new outfits, etc as I draw them more, so think of these as works in progress.

So, without further ado... let’s get to the designs!

Kaz

Monochrome color palette with hints of light purple, the color of kruge

Kaz never wears white, not even as a dress shirt. The merchants do wear white dress shirts, so this makes him distinct. Dark colors also make things easier to conceal.

They’re easier to see in this post, but he has two prominent facial scars and a few moles. A few other scars cut through the shortest part of his hair.

Each canon couple has an aspect that connects their designs. Kaz and Inej are connected through dark colors and vests

Inej

Black and blue-violet palette. I possibly see her theme color becoming a deep blue in CK (sea-related, symbol of trust, separates her identity and goals from Ketterdam purple)

Arm guards are double-layered to hold a knife each

Gold piercings contrast the blue-violet to show a difference between her old life and her life as The Wraith

Jesper

I imagine him wearing all sorts of colors, but I went with the yellow-green outfit described in a flashback. He wore more neutrals with hints of Jurda orange before joining the Dregs

Jesper’s concept was very cowboy-inspired to match his pistols. He wears boots instead of common dress shoes

Styled in Barrel Flash as seen from the three different patterns

Matching earrings with his family

Connected to Wylan through patterned pants

Nina

Red, cream, and brown palette to contrast the gray and black palettes of other characters

Heart motif seen through the pattern on her slip and the toes of her boots

Lots of Ravkan jewerly, especially bracelets to visually represent her powers

Connected to Matthias through brown boots

Matthias

Cool blue and warm brown colors (contrasting colors, a character at odds with himself)

Prepared for anything with lots of pockets and an extra scarf

Scarring from prison and a bite mark from Trassel

Like Inej, he’s in a grounded pose to show his unwavering nature

Wylan

Red and gold palette like the Van Eck family but more neutral (disillusioned by his father’s true nature)

Boots from a second-hand store. Laces tied around ankles to fit better

Dirt smudges from experiments, unable to buy many new clothes

Bag carries supplies, with certain chemicals stored on the outside for easier use (no, they’re not pokéballs)

Kuwei

Theme color is gray or white from his lab coat. Maybe he wears more teal in CK? Haven’t decided on that yet...

His shirt may seem anachronistic, but apparently t-shirts were around in the late 1800s, so it can still fit the setting.

And... that’s it! Thanks for reading. If you have any questions about these, feel free to send an ask or put it in the comments.

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makedonsgriva · 21 days

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Do you mind if I ask your top 10 favorite characters (can be male or female) from all of the media that you loved (can be anime/manga, books, movies or tv series)? And why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before.....Thanks...

Omg hi! First of all thanks for asking! I haven’t answered this question before and I absolutely do not mind answering this. This is a tough one though because I’ve consumed so much media and love so many characters it’s so difficult to choose but I will give it a shot nonetheless. Also these ten characters are not in any particular order.

Laurent Of Vere: Laurent is introduced as the frigid and dangerous prince of Vere in the book 1 of the captive prince trilogy. I HATED this man on my first reading but as the trilogy progressed, I just fell in love with him. He had an astounding amount of growth and character development. Not to mention his qualities and traits make him an all around admirable character. I may not be putting the characters in this list in order but Laurent is definitely my favourite character of all time.

Fleabag: Fleabag from Fleabag is another character I deeply love. She is funny, she is selfish, she is a tragedy of her own doing. It’s the way she is so deeply flawed yet so damn loveable at the same time that gets me. We are all fleabag at the end of the day aren’t we?

Baz: Baz from Carry On trilogy had to be here like the list won’t be complete without my poor little meow meow. He is one of those few characters who is very very close to my heart and it so hard to not love this dramatic gay vampire. Just love his snark and he is so funny??? I love it so much. Not to mention he truly is one of the kindest characters I’ve read.

Penelope Bunce: Another character from the Carry On trilogy. Penelope means the world to me because as a brown person, I don’t get to read a lot of books which feature brown characters. So seeing a character who is the best friend of the protagonist and has a major role in the series, it’s very refreshing and reassuring to me. Penelope is smart, stubborn, never admits she might be wrong but her growth over the three books is amazing. I will always love her.

Eren Yeager: literally one of the most tragic characters I’ve seen till date. As the protagonist (antagonist? anti hero? Idk anymore) of attack on titan, Eren is one of the most iconic characters I’ve come across till date. His unconditional devotion for his friends and his character arc from being the righteous hero to someone who becomes completely disillusioned by the end, it’s fucking amazing.

Geto Suguru: I have a beef with Jujutsu Kaisen and the reason is that Gege Akutami came up with absolutely amazing characters only to under-utilise and shit on their character arcs with his half assed plot. Surprisingly though, Geto’s character arc is amazing. I love it when heroes lose the sight of their goals and become the villains instead and Geto does that. His character development is really good and I love him for that. Incredibly realistic and refreshing to see.

Jiang Cheng: Jiang Cheng from MDZS remains one of the most relatable characters I’ve come across ever. Like I feel him on a spiritual level. The complexity and depth of his emotions, his actions, being so fucking good but never being good enough… good lord my heart straight up bleeds for him. I will always love Jiang Cheng.

Xue Yang: Hear me out okay. I know Xue Yang from MDZS is a psychopath. I’m not a Xue Yang apologist either. What he did to Xingchen was appalling to say the least. But Xue Yang is undoubtedly an incredibly well written character. He loved or should I say obsessed over XXC in such a sick and twisted way, it made for a very interesting read. The way he deluded even himself into believing that his extreme actions were all to torment XXC and not because he enjoyed his company and liked him… like girl be ffr right now who tf are you kidding. But yeah love me an insane psychotic gremlin.

Violet Evergarden: Violet from Violet Evergarden is one of the most heartbreaking characters I’ve come across and also one of the most unique. I’m a sucker for stories that tell the most human stories and Violet as a child soldier discovering these emotions, thoughts and vivid lives of people while coming to terms with her own trauma really gives her a special place in my heart.

Howl: Howl from Howls Moving Castle is one of my favorites because he is a hot babygirl. As simple as that.

Thanks so much for asking! Sorry it took me a while to get back to you but I hope you liked this list 💗💗💗

#carry on #baz pitch #captive prince #mdzs #laurent of vere #jiang cheng #xue yang #penelope bunce #fleabag #howls moving castle #violet evergarden #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen #eren yeager #attack on titan #asks

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hunter-slime-660 · 3 months

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Ok so the new vtm romance book is out, and I haven’t read it yet. Which means its the perfect moment for my

✨VTM DATING HEADCANONS✨

(Keep in mind these are MY headcanons, they are NOT rules, they are the STEREOTYPES i imagine for each clan)

———————

Toreadors: awful lovers. They get together with you because you light up something within them, but the moment the flame dims they’re going to drop you, just like their art. They might stay with you to keep appearances, much like they might force themselves to make art because they’re toreadors, but this is gonna just burn them out more and make them more resentful. They want you to be ever changing, to be interesting, but also to stay the same, else you wont be the one they fell for anymore.

Ministry / Setite: one night stand and they know it. But that’s the fun for them. You may fall for them, but they are not so disillusioned. Sure, they are the ones to seduce you (probably), but they domt really care for long term relationships. Not that it would work out anyway. They would get you in to some nasty habits if you tried to spend too much time with them. But hey! You can have quite the fun with them still!

Ventrue: the definition of arranged marriage. They get with you because they get something back, but you probably do too. The best way to have a ‘healthy’ relationship with one of them is making a contract. But when you do they are not so bad. You might even actually start to care for each other after a while! And the contract keeps things balanced and efficient. Then again most people look for a more passionate love, so they really aren’t for everyone. Oh, and of course, the moment you break the contract, the moment you aren’t useful, you’re gonna get dumped.

Malkavian: the hardest to give a stereotypes to. Each of them is different in how and why they get together with you, but if you fall for one you can expect an heartbreak. Being sincere for them is dangerous, more dangerous then with any other clan, and who knows how they may react when you try to slip off their masks? They might even be antagonistic to you from the very beginning, after all who in their right mind would get with one of them? (This is an introspective sentence on how they are treated in vtm, not a comment on mentally ill people as a whole btw)

Nosferatu: you know the stereotype that they’re ugly but with a heart of gold? Yeah, that’s just a stereotype. Sure, you will find very interesting kindred in this clan, more interesting then other more social clans for sure, but its not worth loosing yourself over it. After all there is an inherent cruelty to turn someone in to a nos, and when you’re surrounded by cruel people, when anyone else rejects you, you tend to become cruel yourself. They’re extremely interesting as people, but i would avoid them as lovers.

Lasombra: masochistic vampires with shadow tentacles and catholic guilt, need i say more? Too bad that their masochism drags itself outside the bedroom.

Tremere: insufferable and everyone will give you a side eye for dating them. They would DEFINITELY keep secrets from you, so if you’re looking for honesty, they ain’t it. Like vetrue they get with you because they get something back. Also are you sure you can trust them in the way a relationship needs? Plus they’re probably too caught up in their studies to actually spend time in a relationship.

Brujah: ‘the most human’, that’s if you ignore their short temper. They may love you and you them, but is it really worth the heated arguments? Especially with potence, it tends to be quite a risk to take. But if you like the arts, you have as much chance with them as with anyone else.

Tzimisce: possessive. TOO possessive. You think its cute in the beginning, but its not. They are the most jealous partners you can have and they will. Not. Leave . You. Alone. Also they will not take lightly to you leaving them and will treat you more like property then a person.

Salubri: just wont date you. Too risky for them and they have other things they should worry about

———————

(These are not all the clans, but they are the clans i have headcanons for) (you my also have noticed that all of them are negative, that is because i dont think there are upsides to date any of the clans :) )

#vtm #vampire the masquerade #vtm clans #vtm dating #vampire #dating headcanons #just #dont date kindred #its not worth it

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pikahlua · 1 year

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Would you mind elaborating on your views on the villains as a disillusioned youth? It’s such an interesting take and it feels so genuinely accurate I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it and how that framing changes how I perceived their characters

Ah, well, I'll do what I can. At some point this'll dip into a subject outside my wheelhouse though.

To me, the League of Villains notably fail to stand for any message. They just become whatever messages they absorb. Tomura specifically does this when he allows Dabi and Toga to join, and AFO comments on how he’s just using Stain’s ideals which Tomura doesn’t buy into. But by co-opting Stain’s message, Tomura gains allies. This sort of thing happens throughout the entire series--where they cooperate with the yakuza in order to gain their tech, or they allow Tomura to become a symbol of freedom so the meta liberation army will follow him. Tomura is not swayed at all by Stain’s ideals or the yakuza’s or the MLA’s, but he allows these people into his fold regardless. And you basically have this again with the mob at the hospital in the most recent manga arc. The LoV capitalize on the emotions of others in order to earn others’ strengths for themselves. So they’re not representing any real message or philosophy. They’re not “villains who have a point” in the traditional sense. They’re representative of something else.

In a story about kids going through academia to become heroes, wouldn’t the villainous corollary have to be something similar? You need the “villain academia” counterpart, basically. What do the LoV all have in common? They’re outcasts left behind by society. This is the part where I get into something I am definitely no expert on, so please go research this more before you fall back on my explanations: one of Japan’s famous major social problems is its “lost generation” that resulted from the economic stagnation of the ‘90s. With the aging population and the economy in a...very weird state, a lot of the youth in Japan have felt abandoned and lied to by the world around them. We’re sort of going through something similar in the west, especially Gen Z in the USA, but Japan has been ahead of us on this trend for a few decades now (a canary in the coalmine, so to speak). Basically, the Japanese youth go through academia, work really hard to study and pass grueling entrance exams and go to a big name university that is supposed to guarantee them a high-paying corporate job they won’t ever be fired from and fulfill the expectations of society. Yet so much about Japan’s rigid, traditional structure leaves many of these children by the wayside by the time they make it out of school. There is a large contingent of “failures,” the children who couldn’t follow this one true path, or those who did everything they were supposed to and still got screwed anyways. You end up with a generation full of people society broke its many promises to.

So that’s what I see when I look at the League of Villains. I see a contingent of youth who were screwed over by their society and its broken promises to them. I see society’s “rejects” that society pretends it didn’t create and is content to ignore and vilify. I see an angry, discontented swath of abandoned people who demand to be seen and heard, even though they don’t have some cause to rally behind or message to convey. I see a ball of disgruntled emotion, a problem society caused, a problem society must change to fix. I see the kids who wanted to fit in but were excluded, so they rejected the norms to save themselves.

And so that perspective informs how I think the heroes must address the villains, or rather, why it’s easier for the student heroes to address these villains than for the pro heroes.

#my hero academia manga spoilers #final showdown spoilers #ask pika #anon ask #league of villains #all of this is just vague commentary on the LoV #nothing specific about any particular character #obviously if you drill down into a char they'll have their own specific things going on

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my-deer-friend · 4 months

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♻️ and 🤔?

Plus ❤️!

-@iron--and--blood

♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP

In the elams WIP, I was really struggling with John and Eliza's relationship, and I initially included a good deal of discomfort there - but then I got rid of that for a better idea and it's so much more coherent!

🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

Had to think about this one for a little while and then I remembered!! I have such a vivid, perfectly formed idea in my mind of a story based on this post that both utterly obsesses me and feels way above my execution level. John the retired saint, exhausted and disillusioned, hiding from the divine's light somewhere far away from society... and one day, after years of seeking him, Alexander tracks him down - bright-eyed, bursting with life, and desperate for the secret knowledge to become a saint himself.

💕 Thank you!!

#hamilton musical #hamilton fanfic #john laurens #alexander hamilton

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medicallymercury · 1 month

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I haven’t watched the full episode yet (I know what happened generally) because me and my mum watch it when my dad is at work and he isn’t tonight, but I have watched Teddy and Jan’s scenes, sooooo…

Teddy is, or least was, just a kid with a toy ambulance. And I mean that ‘was’ both literally when he was a kid, and in the very recent series 36 naivety-about-the-job sense. Which has survived a little bit up until this point but I think this episode might’ve killed it off. I actually like the idea of Teddy becoming very disillusioned with the job and still never leaving it. I don’t know if I’ve expressed this in a post before but Teddy has to be a paramedic - it’s the only thing he wants to do, it’s the thing he’s best at, it’s required to keep the tragedy of that family going - but it’s not really good for him. To give the writers far too much credit, he’s the heir to the throne in a Shakespearean tragedy, it’ll kill him and he has no choice but to keep going after it. Anyway, this a great episode for my Teddy Has To Be A Paramedic thoughts. All the horrible things that happened, the fact that he's clearly shaken up, and he's still trying to keep working. That is a kid with a toy ambulance standing too close to the road if I ever saw one.

Sometimes the spoilers focus on something largely irrelevant to what is actually happening in the episode, huh? I don’t really know what to say about Len beyond 'that’s gonna fuck Teddy up'. That’s horrifying. I am really looking forward to seeing how Teddy is doing in next week's episode cause that was……….......… There’s also kinda parallels between Jan (reasonably) telling Teddy he can’t stay with Len and Jan (justifiably) not telling Teddy about Gethin going to Switzerland if you're looking for them. Edit: they also highlighted (…I don’t like to assume the writers intended to anything they did well recently) the fact that Teddy and Jan have both been really alone for a long time, since before Gethin died they’ve only really had each other because Teddy stopped actually trusting Paige and Sah around the time that Jan and Ffion re-broke-up and since Gethin died they haven’t had each other, with that part where Len asks if he and Teddy can get a dog because Jan asked Ffion the same thing when they were planning their retirement-that-wasn’t.

Also, that’s another Jan and Teddy episode with a drugs based plot point (alongside literally everything they were called to in Is The Patient Breathing? and Kezzie, AJ and their mum in Break Your Heart). Probably unintentionally, Ross looms.

The scene where Teddy wants to go back to the explosion and Jan stops him is FUCKING GREAT. Another thing I think about a lot are the ways that their personal relationship inevitably bleeds into the professional. Jan as Teddy’s boss and Jan as Teddy’s aunt. That scene, first of all, has Teddy’s tendency to pretend he’s fine and deny that he needs help or to step back from work. An overlooked trait of his, if you’re asking me, but one that has been there a long time (and that we've also seen Jan sometimes has as well). Also, there is a clear moment where Jan switches from talking to Teddy as his boss to talking as his aunt and I love it. It’s from “I know how hard it is when…" to “I know how hard it is.” when her tone changes entirely and he turns to look at her after looking away. I appreciate that singular moment so much.

Generally? Di Botcher and Milo Clarke, you've done it again (made me feel physically ill about pretend paramedics).

Next week’s spoilers about them: how many times can I say that it’s not the storyline I dreamed of after Gethin, but that I am very excited for their stuff next week anyway? (Especially because “he’s got nobody to talk to about work” makes me foolishly hopeful for a Sah mention.)

I'm gonna go listen to Class of 2013 and Fireworks by Mitski and think things about Teddy until it's next Saturday.

#will watch the full ep tomorrow afternoon #i'm actually gonna go and get drunk and try to write the first draft of an essay which sounds like a bad idea but it works for me #bbc casualty #teddy gowan #jan jenning

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pieofdeath · 3 days

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re: the rotd spotify playlist, explain your vision for pathological facade (please and thank you) :]

Hehehehe HIII bubblegum :D Pathological Facade is a multi-faceted answer! So you’ll get ALL the parts :D

1- Honey I'm Home, also by Ghost and Pals, is one of the main ROTD songs! You can see its influences in ch1 especially. So I already sort of associate them with ROTD, and Pathological Facade came out while I was writing it!

2- holds up the lyrics "a year ago I was told that I would be a miracle" "go on praise me like a god" “who will I become” and then holds up Kevin and Diana. There are a lot of songs on here that boil down to “im mentally ill over the cult” (there are also a lot of songs that boil down to “im mentally ill over the ships” but this isn’t one of them) and while this one doesn’t have… a lot of textual/lyrical evidence to back up why I always think about them when I listen to it, I certainly do always think about them.

Idk. I think it’s interesting to think about what, exactly, being raised the only child of a cult leader would entail. And, while I haven’t quite gotten to it textually (BUT CERTAINLY PLAN TO), Diana joined the cult when she was 16. Jim was in his mid-30’s, and I’m just saying. That Diana looking up to Jim like a father figure (especially in the absence of her ACTUAL father, another thing I plan to get to) for the first two decades or so until she becomes disillusioned with the cult ISN’T EXACTLY UNREALISTIC.

Diana and Kevin have more similarities than anyone thinks- including themselves. They just go about their similar issues in entirely different ways, obscuring that they both grew up in a deeply toxic and isolating environment, depending on a man who didn’t have their best interests at heart, where violence was normalized (dropped a hint about this in ch18) and, for several years, sudden upheaval was expected.

Diana rejected and resented all of it when she got older. Kevin made himself perfect for it. Part of this is because Diana remembers life before- Kevin never had that. But, now that Dan and Seán are in the picture…

3- Also! "seeing things that cannot be retold" Kevin’s journey to death and back and the realization that no one will quite ever get it completely! Dan comes pretty close, having been his companion for most of it, but he doesn’t get all of it because he isn’t privy to Kevin’s head and the environmental factors that contributed to some of the less savory decisions Kevin made.

And also! The general silence about the whole thing- both to protect Dan/Brian/Diana (and to a lesser extent, Gabriel) from people poking their heads into the death/afterlife business (although it doesn’t stop it, it certainly slows it and most note-worthy sources like newspapers and such think its a hoax/town joke/legend after a lil while, mostly because the trio won’t take any photos where they wouldn’t get all of the copies) and to prevent the murder from getting out to anyone who’d charge them for it (they don’t know if the law allows the trial of a dead man but they’re not keen on finding out)

4- it’s also just. Really fun to listen to. And this is as much a “listen to while writing ROTD” playlist as it is the playlist for ROTD. It has a silly lil sound at the end that I think sounds like the nintendo switch click that they use for ads :D

5- holds up more lyrics. “Let’s rejoin our family in the mirror world.” the “mirror world” can be death :D meaning “our family” can be Gabriel (and Grim if you want!)

6- holds up “Let’s rejoin our family in the mirror world” again. holds up my spinoff oneshot au-of-an-au that’s yet to be written. What. who said that. Huh.

#ROTD #:D this ended up uh #way longer than I thought it would!#I thought I didn't have many thoughts and then I DID.#this was supposed to have 3 bullet points #2 was supposed to be SHORT also #woe 600+ words of character introspection be upon ye

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kingsbride-a · 10 months

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hi hope <3 do you have any dragon girls you haven’t posted about yet? or some art of them you haven’t shared? i love them and i really want to see more!

Hello! Aw thank you for being interested in my dragon girls 🥺 hmm I have 2 newer ones but I don't have any "official" art of them just yet, so I'll talk about one I haven't drawn in a long while but still think about a lot, she's honestly one of my fav OCs 😭

Introducing Anjubelle 💕 she's from an old story of mine where a bet between two different groups of gods leads to absolute chaos in the life of a mortal woman 😱 (this art is super old so I'd like to redraw her at some point 💔💔)

She's the youngest daughter of a chaos goddess, and is half dragon! She's the kind of girl who gets very caught up in her own fantasies... She loves knights and desperately wants to marry one... But her way of going about this was to put Herself in a tower and wait for a knight to rescue her 😫 however, unfortunately for her, most knights hear about the "tower guarded by a dragon with a princess trapped inside" and don't realize the fact that the dragon and princess are in fact one in the same. Thankfully Anjubelle is powerful and can easily kick any would be dragon-slayers out, but shes starting to become a bit disillusioned at this point...!

#💌 | a letter from hermes #thank u for the ask i love talking about my OCs 😭💔#funfact her chaos goddess mama is a catgirl! so Anju is a catgirl dragonness 😭

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herrlindemann · 2 years

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Interview with Richard for METAL HAMMER N°3 - 1997

The tension in the Rammstein camp is increasing: their second album, Sehnsucht, is due to be released in April. Henning Richter wanted to know how the climbers of '96 cope with the pressure that weighs on them.

Is there actually a Rammstein concept? With a few ingenious associations, resourceful critics had created a wonderful concept: with their flamboyant singer, the group wanted to commemorate the burning victims of the Rammstein air show disaster, while the blazing flames symbolized the easily ignited lust of heated bodies in trembling beds... Nothing there : With a short, disillusioning sentence, guitarist Richard Kruspe destroys all these dreams: “There is no Rammstein concept. We started with a sparkler, from which this show gradually developed, which we are also keeping by the way. On our next tour we will employ a pyro company though. During the last concert in the Berlin Arena, our backdrop caught fire, things fell down, there were people who bled a little... But we visited them all, there are no complaints“, at least that's what he hopes.

But wait, I'm getting ahead of myself. So hit the rewind button again and rewound. The afternoon began with a short audio sample of the upcoming Rammstein album Sehnsucht in a shoebox-sized studio in Prenzlauer Berg. Five titles resounded from slender speakers, although not quite finished yet, they point to the future. One thing is certain, their “Techno-Metal mit Drill-Deutsch” (WOM-Journal) has become more varied. The song 'Du has(s)t' in particular surprises with its rather soft vocals and its harmonious melody. Other numbers like the mercilessly heavy 'Bestrafe mich' are total techno trash. Richard is satisfied, although the expectations of his band, which has sold an impressive 180,000 units of their debut Herzeleid, are of course huge. "You can only lose with the second album," he fears, "either people complain: 'They haven't developed at all' or they complain: 'That doesn't sound like Rammstein anymore'.”

What remains are texts that often deal with "sex and love in extreme forms," says Kruspe, "I'm interested in relationships.” Masochism and sadism are dealt with, frustration and lust are addressed. Incidentally, relationship frustration was a cornerstone of Rammstein. “When we first met in the rehearsal room, we all had stress with women, it went to the point of sheer hatred, which is also reflected in the lyrics. Frustration was a good creative driver, and it also bonded us as a group.” In the meantime the stress seems to have disappeared, almost all Rammstein butchers have wives and children, Richard already has two. “Kids take you out of your world, they give you a new perspective. Get kids,” he recommends, but frankly, he doesn't quite convince me.

In the course of the interview, Richard's will to stand out from the crowd with Rammstein shines through again and again. “I like bands like Metallica or The Prodigy, who see their own way. That's why I'm also into techno, because it's European music that differs from the vast amount of American productions.” He sees America as a real challenge for his combo. Since Kraftwerk and the Scorpions no German band has managed to be recognized there. After all, Rammstein has had two good experiences with American artists so far. On the one hand, cult director David Lynch used two of their songs for the soundtrack of his new film "Lost Highway", on the other hand they toured with the Ramones. “It was certainly an unusual composition, but it worked. The fans accepted us. The Ramones themselves were great, bassist C.J. always wore a Rammstein shirt from day two. Joey used to sing (mimicking a typical American R) in the dressing room, 'Rrrammstein, Rrrammstein'. He has a bar in New York where he constantly plays a live recording of our concert.”

My interviewee reveals that computers played an important role in the creation of the new material. “Up until a year and a half ago, I was also very skeptical about samples and computers. Now they fascinate me. I feel like making modern computer music, after all you can't resist the development of the times. When it comes to composing, I picked up the guitar again after a while. A lot of these techno computer freaks don't play an instrument, that's definitely a disadvantage. I love songs, and they're just easier to write on the guitar.” Several members of the 'Tanz-Metaller' now work with a computer, curiously enough keyboarder Flake doesn't have one, although bits and bytes should actually be closest to him. It is also strange that singer Till Lindemann does not give any interviews, as Kruspe explains in a dry and nebulous manner: "He doesn't say anything because he simply has nothing to say.” Ah.

That is completely natural, as is Lindemann's strongly rolling R, claims Richard, "the man comes from Mecklenburg-Western Pomerania, people sometimes talk like that there.” When I asked whether Rammstein “Jean Claude Van Damme-Double” is close to East German singers such as Eugen Balanskat from the Skeptics, my counterpart vehemently denied: “Till is more into Jello Biafra from the Dead Kennedys.” Right from the start, it was important for the sextet to appear as a group and not to single out any member, maybe frontman Lindemann's non-appearance has something to do with it... The effort to always appear together was put to the test when the Prenzelbergers started their career: “We calculated that we were together for 200 to 250 days last year,” groans the muscular guitarist, “that was really hard.” The men even marched together to swim to keep fit on tour. At the moment the musicians are enjoying their freedom, taking care of the kids before they go on an extended tour of Germany again at the end of April.

The disc was recorded in Malta, in the same studio where Braunschweig's Such A Surge recorded their major second division AGORAPHOBIC NOTES. The capital cities again hired Jacob Hellner as the sound coach, and the recordings were again mixed by the mix genius Roland Prent. "It's about time we changed producers, though. At first we still had a lot of respect for him, but now we've noticed that he only cooks with water. That's why we co-produced the album,” says Kruspe with a touch of disappointment. The record company also tried to have a say, which he thinks is only natural. “They invest a lot of money and now want to make money. But we didn't listen to the Company envy, relying more on our instincts.”

Rammstein are sailing their very own course, summarizes Richard, who appropriately wears American sailor pants today. Musicians are like sailors, I say, they're always on the move and there's a bride for everyone in every port. “If you mean groupies, all I can say is I'm not into them. I like equal women, groupies are so submissive. But one thing is true: like sailors, we are rarely at home.”

#Rammstein #Richard Kruspe #Till Lindemann #Paul Landers #Flake #Oliver Riedel #Christoph Schneider #interview #translation #1997 #*

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surveillance-0011 · 1 year

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Before ω-3 was formed (or was never formed) , what do you think the members were doing, how their life was, etc?

DJ:

Dropped out of college or high school to pursue music (and bc school had grown to be way too detrimental for his mental health between failing grades and feeling very insecure) . This resulted in a big fight with his mom that ended in him being kicked out. Even if she took it back or never told him she wanted him gone, he took it as a sign to leave.

Cue the couchsurfing. He stayed with friends and strangers, and in hotels as he perfected his craft and performed gigs at clubs. Some of these living situations he ended up in were not the best and a few were probably dangerous or traumatizing.

Fortunately his sister, too, did allow them to stay with her for some time. Maybe it makes for sense for him to just stay with her but idk I haven’t decided and they don’t get along the best so I think he only decided to swallow his pride and ask her for help when everything went to shit.

He also took up a couple of odd jobs, taking whatever he could to get a little more cash.

The whole… everything started like 2-3 years before the band formed.

Eventually he saved up for somewhere to live…maybe. But he found an ad for a position in a band or was approached after a show from a certain cello-playing fish…

He accepted to meet up. It almost didn’t happen, though, because he overslept misremembering the time as pm when it was am… fortunately he woke up in the afternoon and called Blade to meet up then. Their introduction was rushed and messy but they were able to join!

Had he missed it, though… I think his life could have turned out alright still? It’d be a lot rougher and he’d never reach the level of fame he has now but I think he’d manage and get out of the shitty situation he was in.

Timpanist

Honestly, life has been good to him- esp compared to the other two- the past few years. He had grown past some rougher teen years to be a decent person with decent mental health and a decent ability to play drums.

He was just kind of… lost? He felt like something was missing. Some attention, or just the ability to really do what he wanted.

Another issue is that we was kind of homesick. He had left the Trout Jigokudani to pursue his dreams… or just like, a better career in a more modern, urbanized setting.

Was part of an orchestra but left bc it wasn’t really his thing. Then he joined a more traditional salmon music group, performing for festivals and ceremonies. He was relatively successful and satisfied but he just felt like nothing was really what he truly wanted. Like he hadn’t struck gold yet.

The other two (or one of em, probably) came across this music group somehow- probably at an event or nearby where they played. After the show on his way home the two stopped him to ask about the band.

It took some thinking over, but he obliged. Rest is history.

Also, he invited Faith to live with him once he settled into the role.

If the band never happened he’d have stuck with his old gig, or moved back to his hometown. I’d like to think he’d find something to fulfill him but maybe he would not, and become disillusioned with his life.

Cellist

Like I’ve said before he had struggled with his mental health a lot. In the years or maybe just months preceding the band’s debut he was at a low point. Not the lowest, maybe, but… Just kind of existing.

He, too, was part of some other band. He cycled through a lot of different gigs but never stayed because he often fought and just didn’t mix with a lot of people. Only one lasted for some time and even then they eventually had their falling out.

There was also solo work, composing for others or herself.

She was struggling again with her anxiety and other issues, and at that point it was starting to become too much to bear.

And so came the shot in the dark. When Faith missed the og time she almost fucking lost it, she was torn and pretty much hopeless, so it’s a relief that they ended up meeting up in the end.

Had Faith not done so? Things would not have ended well here.

Maybe the two of them would’ve been able to continue as a duo but I doubt ω-3 would be as iconic or survive as long as it has. I don’t know what Blade would do if it hadn’t worked out.

Actually, I do. And I’ll leave it at that.

#splatoon #splatoon 3 #asks #ω-3 #splatbands #he/they dj he/it timpanist and he/she/they cellist for the uh. context? for the swapping #and the nicknames r Faith (dj) Val (timpanist) and Blade (cellist)#tw sui implied

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linksthoughtbrambles · 2 years

Text

Sightholder

A short story for Zelink Week 2022’s ‘Rituals’ prompt (see end for notes). ~3,500 words. (Tagged nsfw for implied sexual relationship. Does not contain explicit sexual content).

‿⋰⩹~‿⋰⩹~‿⋰⩹~‿⋰⩹~‿⋰⩹~‿⋰⩹~

“We’ll get the crown set just right, Princess,” Ria says. “Last time, it pulled and broke some hair.”

“It’s of little importance, Ria.” How typical of her lady’s maid to perfect the inconsequential. Those attending the Blessing Ceremony will be too far from her to observe the minutia of her hair (and her power’s awakening ought to outweigh her appearance).

As for her appointed knight, he will see what he wishes to see and no more, as always when he looks at Zelda.

“Broken hairs become flyaway. Better to avoid it.”

Were Zelda invested in the length of her hair, she would concur—but for her, flyaway hairs matter only when the wind plasters them to her eye sockets (an inconvenience when working the slate, to be sure). Clips keep the worst offenders in order.

“There… is that comfortable, Princess?”

“Yes, thank you, Ria. I appreciate your help.” She’d appreciate speed to a greater degree, but she omits that detail in favor of preserving their recently-cordial relationship.

“…You’re welcome, Princess.”

Zelda swivels her head at Ria’s hesitation. Her maid’s face confirms her suspicion; Ria, unlike Link, knows when Zelda hides something from her. Link… he is her lover in all but the act, deep in the throes of unfettered adoration. It blinds him.

Ria has no such rose-colored filter for Zelda, but she’s not immune to distraction. “Perhaps we’ll see Myrri next time?”

A deeply-lined grin blossoms on Ria’s face at the sound of her daughter’s name. “It may be, Princess. I haven’t told her yet. I rather thought today, it was important to get an early start."

“Of course. Thank you again.” Zelda supposes a small child in her bedchamber would slow the dressing process considerably. Well—there’ll be other days. She hopes to hear Link’s rhyming games with the little girl, for too few of his plays on words ever pass his lips. She’d not have known he had a sense of humor at all were it not for the Sheikah Slate.

She sighs, reaching for the slate as Ria makes her exit, eyes alighting on the blank screen twice as her other hand grasps her satchel’s shoulder-strap. “Well, Zelda. Nothing for it. Do not look at the slate.” Link had likely been mulling over his words for the ceremony. She fears what he might say (for his sake, not hers, for he tends toward discomfort in public… to put it mildly), but she doesn’t want to spoil the moment: she’d like his words to be exactly that, and not echoes of thoughts she’s eavesdropped upon.

“Do not look.” Her fingers twitch.

She very nearly taps the screen.

“Later.”

The pad of one finger feather-brushes the slate’s surface and it chimes on, but Zelda averts her vision from its glow and the words splayed across its screen. Those would be Link’s most recent thoughts. The corner of her eye sees the text scroll upward toward the ‘Log’ heading, and she presses the screen against her chest.

No. “Much later.”

Every word within his mind, entirely unfiltered—bare to her.

“Satchel for now.”

She’d fallen in love with those words—with a self he’d struggled to keep private.

He thinks it still is.

Her grip tightens on the slate.

“I truly ought to tell him. I ought to.”

Once she does, he may be disillusioned of her. She’s seen what he thinks of her—all brilliance, beauty, and strength of all kinds. She doesn’t recognize that woman. He loves an incomplete version of her.

She must tell him soon.

“…Not now, though.”

They’ve a ritual to complete first.

“Satchel.” She places the darkened slate inside it, her grip firm. “Door.”

A chorus of greetings meet her in the hallway where her guards and Link’s family wait, but his sister’s rises easily audible above the others: “Wow! Your sleeves are so long!”

Zelda giggles. Link’s straw-haired, gangly young sister is a welcome reprieve from the usual mix of vacant flattery and ‘discrete’ disapproval Zelda tends to encounter. “Indeed, Chee. These sleeves are quite impractical. Not at all my usual choice of dress.”

Zelda officially greets her two night guards, then turns a wide smile on Link’s mother (she’s so like her son in appearance, how could Zelda resist?). “Junilla. I take it Link is preparing?”

“Yes, Princess,” Junilla says with her ever-present warmth (it had already evoked memories, mostly-forgotten and entirely blurred, of Zelda’s own mother humming).

“He takes FOR. EH. VER making his hair all pretty,” Chee says with a forcefully-emoted eye-roll and slumped shoulders. A brief pang runs through Zelda’s chest—she’d never been free to behave that way.

Zelda hums a little laugh despite it. “I’ll be sure to examine it thoroughly when he emerges.” (It’s an excellent excuse for a few moments’ indulgence. It wouldn’t do to stare at her appointed knight without reason—not yet).

“If you look really carefully, you’ll see all the lines by his ears where he’s tried different places to pull it back.”

“Enough, Chee,” Junilla says with a light brush of her daughter’s arm. “Don’t make fun of your brother, especially as these two gentlemen report to him.”

“Don’t worry, ma’am,” Sir Oron says with the smallest hint of a smile. “He has our respect. And… we’d already noticed the hair.”

“HA! See, mom?”

Chee’s giggles spread to Sir Oron and Zelda joins them. Her knight’s foibles are among her favorite things about him.

The door just past them opens, a rather trepidatious-looking Link emerging in a champion’s tunic hanging slightly off-kilter at the shoulders—her fault, not his—his newest pair of tan trousers and his usual boots, slightly scuffed. She hadn’t considered that. She ought to have suggested a new pair for the ceremony.

She’s not sure why the state of his boots concerns her more than her own hair.

As for his hair, he’s made even more of an effort than usual—every strand in its proper place, pulled without a single deviant wave or furrow into the hairband at the top of his spine. He’s left a good deal of it to hang free as always, framing his face. A sudden curiosity strikes her, for it isn’t a style adopted by most Hylian men. Her fingers itch to check the slate. What crosses his mind when parting it just so?

“Oh! Oh, look at you, Link. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so handsome,” Junilla says.

Her knight’s eyes go wide as they flick around the hallway, and though his expression remains still, an upward jerk of his chin gives his surprise away (at least to Zelda).

It’s clear Link’s embarrassed, and while his mother apologizes for it (and Link insists he’s not embarrassed, which, of course, he is—which of course threatens to set the night guards laughing, which in turn leads to further embarrassment), his eyes find Zelda, initially communicating a single word: help!

Then, those eyes of his change.

They settle unwaveringly on hers (despite what she knows it does to him—Zelda feels she can sense his rapid pulse, his chest constricting). His lips part and he visibly struggles not to examine her entire form—Zelda sees it in quickly tamped movements in his neck and shoulders, and even in his cheek-muscles.

She has to act today. She must make her affection for him public.

If she doesn’t do so intentionally, the vicious gossip will explode again (especially if Link keeps turning those poe-fire eyes on her)—but a single kiss in public should metamorphose rumors about illicit activities into tales of courtly romance. The Blessing Ceremony provides the perfect opportunity to do so in front of a large crowd.

She… should have told him of the slate last night. The order of her actions will worsen the consequences, won't it, if her transgression changes his feelings for her?

Last night, she'd lost herself in his love-blind eyes and lacked the resolution to confess. She lacks it now, as she struggles not to study the flecks of blue topaz in his irises.

“You actually look pretty nice, Link!” Chee says, returning Zelda to the present.

Zelda thinks Link’s gaze will leave her, then, but it doesn't.

“…Thaaaaanks, Chee,” Link says, eyes flickering blue flames on hers. How is it possible for him to speak so frankly with that directed toward Zelda? Two weeks ago, she doubts he could have managed it.

Chee clearly does not notice. “What?! You do!”

A small huff leaves him. “It’s not that, Chee,” he says, even voice at utter odds with those furnace-flares. Zelda’s heart gives a single, sudden lurch against her ribcage, but she has long practiced her statuesque stance. She gives no outward sign at all.

Link’s sister seems to notice (finally) that Zelda is part of the equation (she’s swiveling her neck back and forth between them). “What is it, then?!”

Zelda focuses on keeping her breathing serene as Link’s mother expertly diverts her daughter. She stops processing the words, though.

Link’s eyes are still on her.

Perhaps, had he not warmed her shivering hands, arms, and mouth with his own yesterday morning, or had she not drawn him into the curtain wall for a hurried, anguished kiss that afternoon, or had he not knelt at her window last night and left her wanting with whispered assurances of desire, she could continue to remain composed under that stare—but its intensity is as the weight of a falling star, magnified by its singularity (for it is hers and hers alone) and by the emptiness he’d left her with yesterday.

She can’t bear it much longer—not in public. (She couldn't in private, either, but there she'd have more options than to calm herself).

“Well, Sir Link,” she says, stepping further into the hallway, the movement an excuse to blink at the floor and breathe. “We’re prepared quite early.”

“We could head to the sanctum now if you like, Princess,” Link says, “so we don’t have to fight our way through throngs of people to the sanctum. We can pick up Mipha on the way if she’s ready.”

Of course, they should pick up Mipha—of course, they should. They would be remiss not to.

‿⋰⩹~‿⋰⩹~‿⋰⩹~‿⋰⩹~‿⋰⩹~‿⋰⩹~

The Blessing Ceremony is so unlike the Champions’ Ceremony, Zelda may as well be in another castle. Her father speaks with renewed vigor and the crowd buzzes with hushed excitement. The change exhilarates her. Weeks ago, the sensation of Link’s stare on her back would have set her jaw and fists clenching. Today, it tethers her to hope, not only against the Calamity but for herself. With her power discovered, they stand far more ready.

She allows that hope to overtake her, even returning her father’s smile. Perhaps doing so would feel more natural someday.

When Link kneels before her, an echo of that first blessing at the ceremonial ground rings in her mind’s silence. She hears her own voice as it was then: resigned, hesitant, and while not insincere, lacking in that power of tone which conveys true faith—she’d had nothing righteous within her to express. Link keeps his face downturned—invisible—now as he had then, but the depth of his prostration bridges the space between them, speaking his love for her with a clarity rivaling his fevered words the night before. He’d sworn his fealty all those months ago, and he’d meant it—but today he holds every muscle in his body prone as possible without unbalancing himself entirely: a message written in form and the tranquility of his breath.

Zelda extends her hand, and as she does she feels the force of Link’s love for her as a tangible sensation. It’s as though it strikes her fingertips, traverses her arm, entwines with each muscle fiber, transmuting her to living steel. A flutter of thought—that Link has re-forged her, a woman of tempered metal—precedes her voice as she blesses him with the full might of blatant truth. He is her Hero, chosen by the Sword that Seals the Darkness. He has shown unflinching bravery and skill in the face of darkness and adversity. (He’s shown himself far more worthy of Hylia’s blessing than she). He and his sword will undoubtedly grow stronger as one, and her own voice ringing effortlessly through the Sanctum stokes an ember which had long cooled, blackening in her sequestered heart, air-tight before Link breached its walls: the hope she, too, will grow with him, and the Calamity itself will suffer swift defeat before their combined might.

The audience’s awe as she lowers her hand echoes her own, and the realization strikes that her steel and her ember are not hers alone. They shine, they burn, for all of Hyrule.

Link remains prostrate, woven into the tapestry of her words. The need to stir him from his silent reverie shoots a twinge of loss through the left side of her chest. She feels tethered to the ardor expressed in the curve of his back and bow of his head, but no flawless moment can last forever; time will always tarnish it, demanding new forms of perfection as the world changes around them, even if they remain still. “Sir Link?” she whispers. “You may rise, now.”

He doesn’t.

His neck cranes back with measured deliberation and his eyes of the open sky lock to hers once more with a hope-struck smile, fueling her ember, a glow of shared joys warming the inside of her skin: of cranberry scones, too many children climbing on Link, racing through the bailey, moments stolen to spread a far more physical type of heat as they worshiped each other’s skin, and wishful futures glimpsed each time they stood too close or lingered on each other’s fingertips too long.

“This is exactly where I should be, Princess.”

A short exhale escapes her—a heat-sink. “Usually, the one kneeling is the one being blessed,” she says.

“This’ll be a little different.”

Her mouth quirks at his language, so at odds with his fervent devotion in her court-centered experience. “Hmm. Very well, Sir Knight.”

Zelda attempts to keep her face encouraging as her extraordinary knight begins to tremble. It had taken him such effort to speak to her in private; she imagines how unnerving it must be for him to orate before a large audience, particularly as the words are of his own making. He releases an uneven breath and swallows, and for a moment she wonders if he can’t continue.

Then, his speech comes: the softness and warmth of his voice somehow echoing throughout the chamber with clarity despite the tremor in his frame.

“Princess… the Goddess incarnate… you are the light of dawn that shatters the twilight.”

Zelda’s heart thrusts itself against her ribcage; her lips fall just slightly open.

“No blessing I can bestow could make you greater. You are already the light that shines on this world. You illuminate my path.”

Dear Holy Goddess—she has never heard or imagined the existence of such words directed at her.

Her rational mind reminds her with logical cruelty that a blind man cannot recognize illumination.

“You already have my blessing, and you have since the moment we met.”

Her lower lip moves to tremble. Tears attempt to well out. She will not allow it.

“We were already bound by magic and by fate. Then we were bound by the sword.”

It seems her heart cannot resist full immersion in his adoration for her. She wants him too badly--him and his words.

“So… today, what I offer isn’t a blessing, exactly… because my- blessing- wouldn’t be anything new.”

Her mind can resist. Her mind must, or she shall never tell him the truth. He mustn’t love her sightless.

“…Instead, I offer a gift. The one thing I haven’t freely given, Princess—my courage to speak.”

It does take courage. She sees it in his twitching fingers and vibrating form, even through the salt water blurring her vision.

“You had my faith. My belief that you will light the way even if I falter.”

She must try to have equal faith in him and his love for her—that it would not be easily broken.

“You had my loyalty. My pledge to follow wherever you lead. To serve you in all things.”

He already does so—her ever-present knight.

“You had my protection. My sword is your instrument. I wield it for you.”

He’s already done that, too.

“And now, you have my voice. That you may know my thoughts.”

That she may… know his thoughts?

“And that you may speak through me.”

That she may know his thoughts!

“In the name of the Goddess Hylia, I offer this to you… and you alone.”

The vacuum left by the absence of Link’s voice fills with hushed sounds of stifled emotion, their sources scattered all about them. His love for her leaves no vacancy to fill. It remains as present as it had been while he spoke.

It would be so effortless to lose herself in his reality of unconditional devotion, for she loves him as he is; of that, she has no doubt. She so desperately wants the gift he offers, the ardency of it evident in his carefully-chosen words, far beyond the aspects permissible in public. She wants his hands to speak his love for her in the language of caresses, the warmth of his mouth on her skin as the vibrations of his voice flow through her, an act as intimate as she imagines the fullness of lovemaking to be. And by the Goddess, she wants that—his body above hers with his intertwined confessions of love and desire in her ear.

Yet she knows the woman he loves is illusory. She’s far more certain of it now than she had been before Link’s beautiful words.

The real Zelda had already taken the gift he would freely give her. She already knows his thoughts. She’d read them secretly, sometimes repeatedly. Could any betrayal be so complete as that? To unlock a secret place only to find its contents pilfered by the very person they were intended for?

She cannot allow her tears to fall here and now, but must tell him, and soon. He must see her for who she is. He must love her for who she is, or he must not love her at all.

Please, please, Hylia, let him still love her.

“R-rise, Sir Link. I… humbly accept your gift. Be assured I shall treasure it as my most valued possession.”

She already does.

As Link rises, as his knees shake beneath him, as his eyes search hers (perhaps for approval or a sign of what the tears in them mean) she gathers her courtly demeanor about her. The ceremony has not yet concluded.

“I-it so happens I also have a gift for you,” Zelda says, calling the seamstress to bring it forward.

Her knight blinks in surprise, and she can’t resist the touch of a fond smile despite her worried musings. Zelda thanks the seamstress as she accepts two freshly-made Champion’s Tunics from her: one to replace the tunic bloodied in defense of her, the other in apology for the poorly stitched seam resting on Link’s shoulder. She has something else to tell him—something she needs him to know right now (before later when she might ruin everything), for the words of his blessing and his gift to her had so clearly said, ‘I love you.’

Zelda takes a deep breath.

She lets it out in words. “Sir Link, I bestow upon you this sacred garb… again.”

There’s his sweet, silly, lopsided smile reserved only for her—just a shadow of it. (He’s right, isn’t he? Her gift of shirts is rather funny).

She thinks her next sentence will not be.

“This time… it was made with love.”

She’d thought she’d already seen pure devotion on Link’s face.

Perhaps she had.

If so, it pales before the look he turns on her now.

Her message, it seems, has been received.

She holds the cloth out to him. He hurriedly moves to accept it, and once he does, she cups his face, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. She kisses him chastely but lingers long as a murmur of emotion ripples through the crowd, as his cautious breath warms her neck. When she pulls back, she sees her knight’s face momentarily unguarded, and a vision of it, exactly so, as he expresses his love for her physically flashes in her imagination.

She mustn’t. She mustn’t think of that.

He must love her for who she is, or not love her at all.

If she is to illuminate his path, he must first be able to see.

The true gift she must give him is sight.

She must tell him of the slate.

She must tell him tonight.

Would it be wrong to kiss him just once more before she does?

Please.

Please, Hylia.

Let him still love me in the light.

‿⋰⩹~‿⋰⩹~‿⋰⩹~‿⋰⩹~‿⋰⩹~‿⋰⩹~

[Notes: Sightholder isn't in the dictionary. Zelda has been witholding the truth (that she's completely invaded Link's privacy with the slate's log feature), and she feels like she sees herself much more clearly than Link does--like she's sighted and Link's not. She feels as if she holds the power to give him that same sight.]

[Note: Zelda is so conflicted here with so many different concurrent emotions that the narrative ends up conflicted, flip-flopping between them. It might be jarring! (But I feel it's true to Zelda's state of mind in these moments).]

[Note: This fic is part of the Adventure Log+ AU which you can find on my fic masterlist. It’s concurrent with a chapter in Link’s Thought Brambles.]

Here's my fic post list for Zelink Week 2022.

@zelinkweekofficial

#zelink week 2022 #botw #zelda #zelink #loz #breath of the wild #legend of zelda #fanfic #adventure log+ au #rituals #rituals prompt

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