#ODD PERHAPS TO MAKE THIS VERY PERSONAL POST ON MAIN

[lunarw0rks]

Through The Ashes | Chapter One

Summary: You've been given an offer to join the 141 Task Force. Upon taking it, you find yourself ensnared with the mysterious masked man who won't take his eyes off you.

Warning(s): none for this chapter. just canon-typical activities.

A/N: This is my first post! I hope this is a decent first chapter. Lightly edited, so I apologize for typos/grammar errors. | Word Count: 2.7k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒦꒷ GHOST MASTERLIST ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ next chapter | requests | ao3 ver. | playlist

He's a Good Soldier

The situation at hand was all very cryptic. A mysterious phone call offering you a job, and a location to meet. Everything about it was abnormal. What type of job were you sinking yourself into?

The faint R&B music rang through the bar you were seated in. You wondered if the unknown caller was going to show up at all. Maybe this was all a waste of your time. Anxiously, you glanced around, seeing only a few tables filled with patrons, and their conversations were only muffled clatters by this point.

You looked down at the glass in your hands, using the swirl of the ice as a distraction from your fried nerves.

A faint ding snaps you out of your thoughts, the bell above the entrance. Before you could look at the door, there he was. The contact. He was older than you expected, but well kept. Everything about him screamed that he was polished. Perhaps this wasn’t a fool's errand afterall.

He takes a brief glance around the bar before he speaks. The gruff voice catches you off guard at first, and so does the accent.

“John Price,” you expect him to extend his hand for a shake, but he doesn’t. “I’m the one who called about the job. I think my Task Force could use your skills for our high-profile operations.” He says, almost in a mutter, as if he was speaking through his beard.

You nod and examine the file he slides across the wooden table, opening it. 

Inside, the military files of his Task Force are inside, giving you a brief idea of who you’d be working with. None of them ring a bell to you, but why not keep an open mind?

It’s tempting to ask what the jobs will be, but you notice how cagey he’s being with his information already. 

You were given the offer, they obviously think your training and skills are useful, so why not give it a shot?

“When do I report, Sir?” You ask, finishing off your drink.

—

You were never one to let your nerves overcome you, but today they were. As you stood outside the base, you had to force yourself to push open the doors and walk inside. No one seems to bat an eye at first. You figured your best bet was to meet the contact from the bar, him being the only person you knew within this odd situation.

After a few minutes of wandering, your bag was beginning to strain your shoulder. Finally, you found what you were looking for. A room with the plaque, “Cpt. Price” on the front. You gave three quick knocks.

“Come in,” the voice from the bar calls, only this time muffled through a thick door.

You open the door slowly. His gaze shifts from the paperwork in front of him and then to you.

“You made it.” He attempts a warm smile and stands up to shake your hand, something he didn’t do during the secretive meeting in the bar.

“This place feels like a maze, Sir. But yes, I did make it.” You comment, trying your best to lighten the mood in the room. He was your superior now, and you needed to get a feel of the way things ran around here. He looked like a strict man, but it wasn’t obnoxious.

He walks around his large oak desk and motions you to follow. “I’ll take you to meet the rest of the team. Better do it now before they all scatter to God knows where.” He lets out a dry chuckle as he leads you through the corridors. Finally, after following for a few moments, he opened the double doors into the “Briefing Room”, or so the chalk label on the front stated. Upon the doors opening, you were greeted by a multitude of personalities all sitting together, all their eyes glued to their own paperwork, or a laptop or tablet.

Their eyes lifted, but only for a few moments. They were very intense when working, you could already tell.

“Attention everyone,” Price clears his throat, before moving his frame to reveal you to the group. “This is our newest addition. She’s going to assist us on our mission tomorrow, and possibly more in the future. Make her feel welcome.” Before you can speak, the Captain has left the room, assuming he went back to being nose deep into his paperwork.

You shuffled in your stance, feeling exposed. Now you are on your own. You hoped that you made a good first impression, or maybe they would forget you were there and carry on, either way would be more favorable than making enemies on the first day.

You set your bags down next to an empty chair at the end of the table, purposely seating yourself in an isolated spot. You looked around at the members of this Task Force, examining each of their bearings.

A voice snapped you out of your examination.

“You can sit over here, Lass.” A Scottish accent. Based on the files you examined in the bar, this must be MacTavish, if you were to go off their surnames. Your gaze shot up, seeing the man with a mohawk gesturing toward the chair next to him. Flashing a meek smile, you grabbed your bag and sat next to him.

“So… this is the whole Task Force?” You asked curiously, taking another glance at all of them.

He gives a nod and purses his lips, beginning to point at each of them as he named them off. If you were to pick the friendliest based on appearance alone, probably Garrick, or “Gaz”, as Soap told you to refer to him. 

Least friendly… Probably the burly man at the other end of the table, who’d been giving you an icy glare since you arrived. “Ghost”, they called him. What a strange codename, you thought to yourself. However, you weren’t about to tell him that to his face.

“We’re all pretty friendly here.” Soap continues, looking around with you. “Just don’t touch anyone’s things without permission, not talking from experience or anything.” He lets out a chuckle, and you could tell he was only trying to make you feel comfortable.

“I will take your word for it, Soap.” You state, giving a slow nod. He offers to show you your dorm, and you gladly follow, just wanting to get settled in as quickly as possible.

Soap takes your bag for you, carrying it the whole way there, though you felt like protesting it at first.

The room is smaller than you expected, but not awful to look at. There’s a simple bed, nightstand, and desk. Not having to share a bathroom is a plus, too. Soap nodded when he saw the tension in your shoulders reduce when the room was less distasteful than you expected.

“If you need help finding anything, I’m down the hall.” He sets your duffel bag on the bed and starts towards the door.

You stop him, having only one thing on your mind. “One question.” He stops in his tracks, raising his brow curiously. “That man in the mask… Is he always so…?” Before you can even finish, a grin spreads on Soap’s face, as if it wasn’t his first time answering this question.

“Yes. Ghost is always that way. But he’s a good soldier, and he won’t let you die out there.” Soap replies, before he closes the door behind him, leaving you to get settled into your new living situation. 

—

After unpacking your things into the small dresser, and setting out the minimal decor you brought along. You figured it was time to learn about this “operation” that brought you here in the first place.

When you reached the main workspace, some desks had computers, others didn’t. You sat at an empty one and scrubbed through the files Price gave you at the bar once more. You hadn’t looked at them since the plane ride, and that was many-hours-jetlagged-ago.

The intel describes Task Force 141’s known information on “El Sin Nombre”,  who is the end target. You furrowed your brows as you skimmed the intelligence. Las Almas? A cartel? What exactly were you getting yourself into? This wasn’t the military operation you were expecting, especially working with this specific team.

—

You sat in the mission briefing room, surrounded by your new team. This was the day, your first operation with the 141. You turn your attention to the projector screen in front of the table, where Captain Price is standing, preparing for today’s assignments.

“We’ve received a tip off from a reliable source about the whereabouts of one of El Sin Nombre’s warehouses.” Price begins, taking a coarse sip from his coffee thermos. “We are going to stealthily infiltrate the facility and place a bug devices on El Sin Nombre’s escort vehicles. You will not have execute authority, so stay undetected.” Price says it like it’s nothing, like that’s not a terrifying instruction. And of course, the stealth mission had to be your first with this team.

He scoops up the paperwork he had sitting on the table. “We’re heading out in an hour. Prepare yourself accordingly, soldiers.”

Price’s footsteps grow quieter as he leaves the room, forcing you to make an attempt to plan something with your squadmates. You turn to Soap, but he’s already made plans to work with Gaz. Fuck. Only one more option.

You curse yourself in your head and take a deep breath, before turning to Ghost, who hasn’t uttered a word to you yet at all. “So, I take it we’ll be partners out there…” You want to punch yourself for being so stiff with him. You’re a soldier, he’s a soldier, you’re working together. Get it together. 

He offers a grunt in response, his brown eyes scanning all the way to your bones, before he shifts his gaze back to the folder in front of him, as if he can’t bear to look at you any longer. You almost scoff. All that effort and overthinking for a grunt.

You begin to doubt what Soap told you about him. 

Maybe he’ll intentionally get you killed out there, since you’re clearly so unbearable to have a decent conversation with. At least that’s how Ghost was making it seem.

—

“Ghost, how copy?” Price’s voice rang through the radio attached to Ghost’s vest. You looked over, waiting for your cue to infiltrate the warehouse.

“All clear. Ready to breach.” His rough voice replied into the mic, before he advanced toward the perimeter, sneaking around the side of the building. He barely looked your way, unless to make sure you were keeping up with him.

Sweat formed on your fingertips, daring you to drop the rifle in your hands, but you were determined to get through this without mistakes.

“Two hostiles at the entrance,” you speak in a low tone as you peak around the corner you’re posted at. Ghost has no reaction, and waits for the hostiles to pass. Then, without a word, he slips around the corner, moving toward the entrance.

“The vehicles are down the dirt path. Stay with me.” He says plainly, sprinting down the hill, following the path. 

You use every ounce of energy to stay with his pace, placing your backs against a fence and waiting for the lot with the vehicles to clear. When the enemies disperse, you both split off, pulling the bug devices from your gear. You give a signal nod as you place them discreetly on the vehicles. In seconds, you’re both ready to move on.

Unexpectedly, you hear the footsteps of a hostile approaching the very spot you’re standing. If he sees you, this mission is over, and so are your lives. You contemplate taking him out silently, but you remember Price’s words during the briefing; You will not have execute authority, so stay undetected.

The enemy’s treads are getting closer. The gravel under his boots crunches louder as he’s approaching the car you’re standing beside. You feel a rush of dread course through you.

Just when you think you’re dead meat, Ghost’s gloved hand clamps down on your forearm, dragging you underneath the van he was beside. He gives a cold glare as you’re both sandwiched in your hiding spot, shoulder to shoulder, leg to leg. He’s watching the enemy’s feet pass you by as walks along. When it’s clear, you scoot out from under by your belly, feeling the gravel dig through the fabric of your shirt.

Ghost must’ve noticed the look of panic still written on your face. “Keep your head on, we’re not out of here yet.” His monotone voice yanks the overthinking away quickly.

You continue to follow him, making your way to the fence along the perimeter. Lucky for you, this location didn’t have very strong security. Not even a patrolman going along the fence. Ghost pulled out bolt cutters and cut his way through the chainlink, making a hole big enough for each of you to slip out.

Ghost reaches for his radio once more, not skipping a beat as the both of you jogged from the compound. 

“Mission success. Meeting you at the evac location now.”

—

One part of you wanted to celebrate a successful mission, but the other knew this was beginners luck. It’s a rarity for missions to go that smoothly. If Ghost hadn’t been there, and you were performing that stealth mission alone, you would’ve gotten caught, and that was weighing on you. 

Luckily, Ghost didn’t seem like much of a talker. For once that was going to be in your favor.

“Good job out there everyone. As long as the devices aren’t destroyed, we’ll be able to have surveillance on El Sin Nombre’s shipments and convoys.” Price states in a boastful fashion, giving everyone a supportive grin.

There was no point in dwelling on your mistakes out there. Everyone was content with the outcome, even if some didn’t show it much. Or at least one of them didn’t.

As you're seated on the sofa in the lounge, a beer bottle is handed to you from over your shoulder. “How do you think you did out there?” The accent hits your ears again, making you give a nod as you open the bottle.

“I think everything went… well?” You were unsure. 

Ghost almost looked as if he had a cheeky smirk under his mask as he watched the conversation from afar, but you couldn’t be too sure. His eyes didn’t give much away either. At least you knew it wasn’t just you he stared at. Each time you looked over, his eyes were glued onto something or someone else, as if he was examining everything around him, but not interacting. Like a phantom in the room, which you see move past the corner of your eye.

“Oh, come on. You did well. Nobody’s had any complaints about you yet.” Soap reassures you, maintaining the same friendly tone he had when he first offered you to sit next to him. 

At least you had one person who made an effort to talk with you each day. Price was your boss, so he had to. Gaz was welcoming too, but introverted. And Ghost was… living up to his name. A ghost. At least socially, he was.

You chuckled at Soap’s comment, because it was true. You were overthinking your decisions in the field, and there was no reason to.

The celebration didn’t last long. Some had a few beers and went off to bed, others stayed awake but went back to working. You were exhausted from your first day. New experiences, new people you were still getting used to.

As you laid in your bed, you thought about the moment you almost compromised the mission again. Ghost grabbing you without a second thought, saving your ass. Perhaps, it was as awkward for him as it was for you - the way you two were shoved against one another beneath the van. Or, it was instinct for him to save you, because he’s so experienced in his field.

You nearly physically shook the thoughts away as you rolled over, forcing yourself to get the rest your fatigued body was begging for.

#mw2 #task force 141 #simon riley #ghost mw2 #simon riley x reader #mw2 fanfic

[inbarfink]

Alrighty, so a second season of ‘Fionna and Cake’ is now Officially Confirmed! I was being very cautious about speculating and getting my hopes up until it was Actually Announced, but now that it has, I can’t say I am necessarily shocked that there is going to be a continuation. Looking back on what we can now confidently call ‘Season 1’, there are a few peculiar threads which seem like they are probably meant as a set up for this second season.

Now, everything in this post is going to be very speculative. This is just me going over aspects of Season 1 which seems weird from a perspective of set-up and payoff or just feel like they need more elaboration and thinking what might be done with them in S2. With basically nothing to go on for what will Actually Happen in Season 2 save for the fact that it will exist, just remember to put a huge caveat of ‘I don’t actually know anything yet!’ next to everything I type lol

Fionnaworld Stuff

I wanna start by talking about the one part of Fionna and Cake’s Season 2 we can be pretty certain about - which is that it’s going to feature Fionna and Cake and probably the rest of the Fionnaworld gang. Although, to be perfectly honest… Right now, I am struggling to think of a clear ‘loose thread’ that can hint at where these characters will go in future. Season 1 seemed to have left everyone fairly content. 

I’m not saying that there’s no place to explore these characters further - obviously I’m sure Season 2 will find whole new unexpected angles to develop them. I’m just saying that Season 1 doesn’t really have any clear threads you can point at as a basis for a prediction. At least nothing I can really see myself. 

Perhaps we can give more focus to the Fionna/Hunter stuff we hinted at during Season 1, but wasn’t really given center stage? Or something about Fionna learning how she can be an adventurer on her own terms, after her Season 1 experiences kinda convinced her she couldn’t at all? Or maybe since Season 1 was kinda Fionna-focused, we’re going to get a more Cake-Focused Season 2?

That’s all I got for now, at least. I guess with ‘Fionna and Cake’ being a very character-focused show, and the idea of a renewal probably not being certain when S1 was developed - it makes sense to prioritize giving a strong sense of closure for the main characters and keep the ‘sequel teasing’ stuff to just Lore/Plot hints. Like, if there’s a little Hint of Things to Come that doesn’t amount to anything because the show got canceled that’s just like a Little Weird, but leaving the main characters’ arcs/relationships feeling unresolved forever would be a much bigger problem for the show’s legacy. And speaking of which…

Prismo Stuff

And here’s the real Interesting Stuff that inspired me to make this post in the first place. I think the most notable potential ‘sequel tease’ in F&C Season 1, the thing I always noted as Odd before the second season was confirmed, the main reason I suspected a second season was probably in the works -  is definitely this little moment with Prismo during the ending…

Where he seems to ‘glitch’ for a moment.

What could this possibly mean? I am not sure, but I feel pretty confident that it’s Plot Relevant. It’s a quick but pretty noticeable Moment that doesn’t really seem to have a clear explanation within the first season, especially as it happens just as everything is wrapping up. Perhaps this is the first sign of Prismo becoming sick/malfunctioning/infected, and Season 2 is going to be about unglitching him?

Speaking of which, going into more character-related stuff… while Prismo's grief-induced-depression-spiral from Jake’s death is constantly hinted at throughout the first season - it’s never really confronted directly. I mean, we can assume that between helping out F&C and having Scarab around as a personal assistant - that could’ve helped him get a new lease on life… But maybe a second season could explore Prismo’s grief more deeply?

And then there are also these two

That’s another thing I always found very peculiar in a “hmm, are they planning on making an S2??” sort of way. Like, they spend a minute-and-a-half establishing the Core and the way it works... when I first watched it I was pretty certain it was going to come back later. Like, Simon is going to try to fuck with Time Itself to get Betty back or something. But then they just… loop back to it. It was just a piece of Lore Trivia and a background for the Actually Lore Relevant Infodump.

It might indeed be just that. Just an extra bit of Worldbuilding and a neat change of scenery in the middle of the chase scene. But I still suspect that these Time Titans will become plot-relevant at some future point. 

Multiverse Stuff

Well, out of the myriad worlds that F&C have already visited, it seems like the one that has really left a lot of lingering questions in the minds of the AT Fandom is Farmworld, and those questions are primarily…

HEY!? What the FUCK??? Is he okay?? Is he dead??

So yeah, some sort of confirmation of whatever or not Farmworld Finn is/isn’t dead, and if he is dead - some sort of confirmation of how his kids are getting by considering that their eldest brother just fucked-off to another universe one day… that would be nice and give a better sense of closure on the Farmworld segment of F&C Season 1.

But personally…I think the Multiverse Moment that really rings to me the most as a ‘probable future plot point’, is definitely this little moment in Vampireworld.

The show deliberately emphasizes the moment where the Vampire King saw our Trio use God’s Remote Control to warp to another world. And personally, the vibes here seem… meaningful.

With Bonnie also drawing attention to the fact the Vampires have over-hunted the humans and basically doomed both the world in general and Vampirekind specifically… Could this be the Vampire King’s solution to that problem? Now that he has seen ‘a new thing’, a hint at the existence of the Multiverse - will he try to find a whole new world for his children to feast on?

Well… that’s an alright villain concept and a decent plot hook. My current problem with it is just… the Mainworld Vampire King made for an intriguing and interesting character due both to his compelling dynamic with Marceline and the way he has been changed by the destruction of his people into a very contemplative and complex person. Vampireworld Vampire King doesn’t really have that, as a Vampire King who has never known defeat, he's just a Very Dramatic Evil Vampire. And I feel like Adventure Time aspires to more unique antagonists than Very Dramatic Evil Vampires. 

Now, it’s not impossible to make Vampireworld Vampire King a bit more Interesting if he ever takes center stage - maybe the population collapse of Vampireworld affected him in similar ways to Mainworld Vampire King, or maybe it affected him in a totally different direction, maybe we can give a bit more focus on the influence the Crown has or doesn’t have on him, maybe something else completely out-of-left-field could happen to him.

Or maybe the Star did end up surviving the Doomed Yuri Freefall and she’ll be the one trying out for Vampiric Multiverse Conqueror. She was always the, well, Star of Vampireworld - and she has the potential to be a very fun antagonist with cool thematic implications. I mean, like, Imagine her in contrast to Marshall. He gave up on a comfortable life in the laps of luxury due to wanting some freedom from his over-controlling mom and also it seems some level of moral outrage at her Landlordy ways

And the Star is a Daddy’s Girl Evil Vampire Princess and basically everything he has tried not to be. And yet… will he see a bit of himself in the Star?

Also, I wonder if we’ll see some more of the Alternative Universes Simon stumbled on during his trip back to Ooo. You know, the ones we haven’t actually seen in the main plot.

Simon Stuff

Okay, so… even before the announcement was made official, I have seen a lot of people assume that F&C Season 2 will be just as Simon-Focused as the first season. But personally, I am not sure about it just yet. I mean, I’m a huge Simon Fan, being part of the Petricollective ever since I started to watch the show, so I sure as hell will not complain but… it is important to remember the show is called “Fionna and Cake” and not “Fionna and Cake and Simon”.

I can see the idea being that Simon works as more of a ‘link’ between regular ‘Adventure Time’ and ‘Fionna and Cake’. You know, he’s a fan-favorite and the one major ‘loose thread’ in the original show that can draw old fans into this series which is mostly an all-new cast (considering the Fionnaworld Crew consider themselves to be distinctive from their old magical counterparts).... Kinda like he was the link between Fionnaworld and the rest of the Multiverse, actually. So he’s around as a major character for the first season and from then on he takes more of a secondary role. Since he is a good friend of F&C by this point and their main connection to Ooo, I doubt he’ll disappear completely, but he just might not be as central a character. Or maybe the theme of ‘Fionna and Cake’ is F&C teaming up with different Mainworld characters for different kinds of adventures? 

I mean, it still could go either way. Simon’s arc feels pretty well-concluded to me but the same is true for the Fionnaworld crew and… obviously they’re going to have more Character Stuff in the upcoming season and it’s the whole thing about how it’s important to make your character arcs feel concluded if you don’t know if you’re getting another season. We’ve talked about this already. 

And also… There is one aspect of Simon’s Problems at the start of the show that didn’t truly get to a satisfactory conclusion by the end of the first season. Namely, his loving-but-rocky relationships with both Marceline and Finn.

Like, y’know, he’s generally handling his Stuff better by the end of the season so I guess we can assume he’s also better at communicating with his loved ones but… it is very peculiar that we didn’t actually get to see it. Even as just a moment in his Happy Ending Montage when we see him hanging out and being happy with Finn and/or Marcy. Like, there is certainly a Point to be made about the importance of Simon making friends with people who didn’t know him much as Ice King for the sake of his recovery…

But the total absence of Finn and Marcy from Simon’s epilogue still feels… odd. So that could be something to return to in a future season. Like, I did speculate the F&C ‘format’ might be the Fionnaworld Crew + a different Mainworld character given focus every season. So maybe Simon’s still-not-fully-concluded interpersonal issues could be a launchpad to a F&C season with a primary focus on Finn and/or Marceline.

Finn and Fionna adventuring together would be pretty neat, and if we’re going to give more focus to Prismo’s Grief Problem, it would be very Thematically Appropriate. But also....confronting Finn’s own Jake Grief Problems is actually kinda challenging because we already had a whole special about it.

And that special is happening way way farther in the timeline and explicitly established that Finn never truly got over the grief of losing Jake.

So making an F&C adventure that tackles Finn’s grief in a satisfying manner without feeling it steps over Together Again’s toes… Well, it’s not impossible, but it is quite a tall feat.

Meanwhile, Marceline has less Obvious Issues That Need to Be Addressed right now but also… if we do have the Vampire King and/or the Star as a major threat for this new season, she would clearly be the one to get the Maximum Amount of Drama out of it, so…

Other Ooo Stuff

Okay, so speaking of Finn and things established early on in F&C which then didn’t really come back by the end of the first season, let’s talk a bit about the Heart of the Forest.

So this whole thing could be just a Joke. It could just be a gag about Finn disregarding Huntress Wizard’s warnings and taking his depressed middle-aged friend hiking in the Most Sacred and Ancient Forest in all of Ooo, as a joke. Haha, oh this Finn, so irresponsible! But also…

Finn and Simon were being watched. By a being wearing the same mask as the ‘Evil Bear’

But one that does not quite move like a bear world…

And then of course, this supposedly ‘Evil Bear’ only attacks Simon after he tries to get his little nerdy hands on this peculiar and important-looking tree. 

This really seems to have some implications that the ‘Evil Bear’ is not just one more random ‘evil’ monster that Finn and Simon stumbled across. That they might be some sort of Guardian for the Heart of the Forest, and that their shapeshifting abilities also extend to having some sort of humanoid form, and that they are not quite as monstrous or bestial or ‘evil’ as Finn pegged them out to be.

But all that happens is that Finn kills them, and then the whole matter is not brought up again…. Well, as of Season 1, that is…

So if we are doing some sort of Finn Focused Season, that might be something to bring up. Especially if it’s paired up with some of the Fionna/Hunter stuff I brought up above. 

Again, everything here is just Wild Wild Speculation at this point. This is just a bunch of Stuff that felt Weird resolution-wise in Season 1, and some loose ideas about how they might connect. If you guys have your own ideas and observations, I would love to hear them too!

#fionna and cake #fionna & cake #f&c #adventure time #adventure time fionna and cake #fionna campbell #fionna the human #adventure time fionna #cake the cat #prismo #prismo the wishmaster #prismo adventure time #prismo fionna and cake #farmworld finn #vampire king #the vampire king #marshall lee #simon petrikov #simon adventure time #finn the human #finn martens #marceline #marceline the vampire queen #marceline abadeer

[odyssean-flower]

The Winding Path of Fate Chapter 8 - Summer: Honeymoon Prelude

Masterpost

Pairing: Neuvillette x Female Reader Summary: Furina shows up and bothers Neuvillette about his marriage Warnings: None except for the fact that this story is 50% written based on vibes Note: I update this story on AO3 first so please subscribe to the fic there if you’d like to read it faster Note 2: If you want to be on the taglist for this fic, please make a reply to this post, send a message or send a private ask

Have a pic of Neuvillette hanging out at Dvalin's place

Previous | Next

“My dear Iudex, you’ve been making yourself awfully scarce lately, haven’t you?”  

The doors of Neuvillette’s office doors flew open along with that voice, belonging to the last person he wanted to see right now. Of course, she chose the perfect moment to make her entrance—during his tea break, when he couldn’t use the excuse of work to force her to leave.  

“Lady Furina,” he inclined his head. He had an inkling as to what this conversation was going to be about, and he had prepared himself for it. “I do not quite understand what you mean.”  

“You leave the opera house as soon as possible whenever we’re both present at a trial, and your schedule is mysteriously arranged so that you’re out of the office whenever I’m free. How very odd, wouldn’t you agree? It’s almost as if you’re avoiding me, but why ever would you do that?”   

Furina put her hand on her hips, a knowing smile on her face. Ah, she wishes to draw this out, Neuvillette thought, then refilled his cup and took a sip of water.  

“As you know, Furina, summer is the season when crime rates skyrocket, which means a higher workload. For both of us,” Neuvillette said. “You are, of course, welcome to schedule an appointment with Sedene in the main lobby, if you wish to chat with me. We’ll do our best to accommodate you into our schedule.”  

Furina raised an eyebrow. “Are you being serious right now? I’m your superior, and you answer to me, so why do I have to make an appointment to speak to you? And besides, the crime rate has always increased during the summer for the past five hundred years and probably beyond that, and yet I never had any trouble finding you for a chat...until this year. I do wonder what changed.”  

“What may be the case for previous years may not be the same for the present. Now, if you will excuse me, my break is almost over.”  

Furina glared at him. “You’re really going to drag this out, are you?”  

Neuvillette closed his eyes and took another sip of water. “I’m afraid I do not know what you are talking about.”  

“Oh, really? Playing dumb is not a good look on you, my dear Chief Justice,” Furina said, then began to walk around the office leisurely. She stopped in front of a framed painting near Neuvillette’s desk. “My, my, what’s this? A new painting in your office? When was the last time you added a new decoration to your office, fifty years ago? Although, I must say, it certainly clashes with the rest of the décor in here, with how gloomy the subject is, and the amateurish technique. Shall I suggest some excellent artists for you to commission?”  

“There will be no need for that,” Neuvillette stood up and walked over to Furina, semi-blocking the painting from her view. A simple glimpse of the misty hues and the memories they evoked calmed him slightly. “You have no authority over what I choose to put in my office.”   

“Oh?” Furina smirked up at him triumphantly, as though she had landed a point in a game. “So this painting is important to you, eh? Or perhaps...the artist themselves?”  

Neuvillette remained silent and turned back towards his desk. He knew Furina for far too long to understand that in situations like these, ignoring her was the best way to handle her.  

As he sat back down in his chair, he heard indignant footsteps follow him.  

“Quit it, Neuvillette!” Furina slammed her hands down onto his desk and bent down, glaring at him. “I know you’re married!”  

“Yes,” Neuvillette said. “I am. In accordance with your wishes, or should I say, orders for me.”  

“Is that all you’re going to say to me?”  

“What do you mean? I do not see what more there is to say regarding this topic.”  

Furina stared at him incredulously, her mouth agape. “You do not see? You, the Iudex of Fontaine, do not see what more there is to say to your Archon , the one who kindly advised you to try experiencing the joys of matrimony, about your marriage ?”  

“I did inform you.”  

“In a single-sentence letter!” Furina slammed her hands against his desk again, causing him to wince slightly. “One of the most anticipated events in Fontaine’s history, and not even a single notice in the Steambird’s marriage announcement sections! Was there even a wedding, or did you just sign your names in the registry book?”  

“The marriage was valid in the eyes of the law.”  

“So you didn’t even hold a ceremony?” Furina exclaimed. “I cannot believe this, Neuvillette. The marriage of a man of your rank and status should have been a grand celebration all throughout Fontaine! There should have been a whole month of performances at the opera! Street festivals every day! A beautiful, eight-hour-long ceremony with me officiating!”   

“That sounds immensely disruptive to the public order, not to mention a logistics nightmare.”  

“So? At least it would be an enjoyable and memorable experience for all the citizens of Fontaine. I bet your idea of a fun celebration would be to stare at the sea for a whole day and making everyone drink your precious water, or something boring like that.”  

Neuvillette said nothing. Furina, for all her faults, understood him all too well.   

“As a public figure, Neuvillette, you should remember that everything you do affects them, and that they are all watching you. That doesn’t only go for judgments and the like, but also your personal matters. Don’t you think that you owe the people a small share in your newfound happiness?”  

Neuvillette’s brow furrowed slightly. Though he admittedly found Furina’s logic puzzling most of the time, he did somewhat see her point, and she did have more experience than him with understanding the thinking of the people...  

Furina, sensing him waver, clapped her hands together. “It’s still not too late to make this the event of the year. No, the century! I can contact the Steambird to put up a full page announcement, and we need to get started on wedding planning right away--”  

“I am afraid that I must decline,” Neuvillette said, standing up and staring down at Furina. “That was a moving speech you gave, Furina, but you seemed to have forgotten one thing. You were the one who continuously insisted that I get married, but you have stipulated nothing else. A marriage is a private matter between the individuals involved, and they, and only they, have the right to decide how their marriage will be. My wife and I have mutually decided that there will be no ceremony, and we are both perfectly content with that decision.”  

“ Both of you?” Furina raised an eyebrow. “How very interesting. Did both of you decide to keep this marriage so private as well?”  

“Yes, we have. It was in our best interests.”  

“I'm assuming there was no honeymoon as well, also mutually agreed upon by you both? Please tell me you at least took her out on a date!”  

Date. Neuvillette startled at that word. He wasn’t sure why. “I have not.”  

“And she is perfectly happy with this? You’ve asked her?”  

“I fail to see how any of this is relevant to you. As I have told you many times, this is a personal matter between me and my wife.”  

Furina shook her head with a mixture of exasperation and pity. “My dear Iudex...it appears that you have completely missed the point of why I made the suggestion for you to marry. And your choice of a bride...I don’t know how you did it, but you seemed to have perfectly matched with someone as dull as you are. Either that, or she is so completely terrified of you that she is merely going along with whatever you tell her.”  

“Do not talk about her in that way. You know nothing about her,” Neuvillette gritted out, then stood and glared down at Furina once more, even as he felt seeds of doubt planted in his heart. His wife generally went along with whatever he said. He had always assumed that it was because they had similar temperaments, but could he be mistaken? This was far from the first time that he had mistaken assumptions about humans.  

But Furina wasn’t intimidated in the slightest by that stern gaze, which was usually enough to strike fear into the hearts of anyone unfortunate to be on their receiving end. In fact, she let out a loud peal of laughter.  

“Oh, this is just perfect!” the Hydro Archon laughed, perching herself on Neuvillette’s desk. “I’ve never seen you react like that for a human before! Your bride must truly be someone extraordinary. I must meet her!”  

“No, you will not,” Neuvillette said firmly. “You wished for me to marry, and I have. My wife and I have no need for your meddling in our private lives.”  

Though the marriage was a sham, though the strange new feelings that arose within him lately confused him, one singular conviction burned brightly within his heart: to protect the peace of his wife—his friend—no matter what.  

As you walked out of the eleavator of the Palais Mermonia to the first floor, you saw groups of people here and there, talking animatedly about something. They were throwing frequent glances at the doors to Neuvillette’s office.  

Did something happen? You wondered with not a little bit of worry. You had just left the license office on the seventh floor after asking about your position on the waiting list (you had barely progressed, but you felt a strange sense of relief upon learning that). Originally, you had planned on visiting the office every week to ask about it—you've learned from your short time dealing with the bureaucracy of the Palais that things tended to speed up considerably when you made yourself known frequently.   

But recently, you found yourself less...vigilant when it came to such things. It was so easy to relax when you weren’t constantly worrying about your budget and studying rigorously, or when you were living with someone who genuinely seemed to enjoy your company, who looked you straight in the eye instead of past you at someone better.  

A knot of tension that you had been carrying around for a long time loosened just a little. You only ever felt this feeling when you were reading about Remuria.  

It had become much more difficult to suppress that voice in your head telling you to relax, asking you, “Don't you want more?”   

For someone like you, who needed to concentrate wholeheartedly on your own future, having an idle mind was a dangerous thing.  

“Sedene, is there something going on with Monsieur Neuvillette?” you asked the Melusine at the front desk, who was nervously looking at the shut doors of the office. She jumped at your voice.  

“Oh, Madame!” she exclaimed in a whisper. Was it just your imagination, or did she look even more nervous. “I would highly recommend you to not visit Monsieur Neuvillette right now.”  

I wasn’t going to, you thought, but didn’t say it aloud. Visiting him at work seemed to cross an invisible line. “Why not?”  

Before Sedene could answer, the doors flew open, and the Hydro Archon herself marched out, looking incensed.   

“Don’t you forget, Neuvillette, that I will get my way in the end,” she turned back and declared, then tossed her hair and strode right past you, presumably to her apartments. She didn’t spare a single glance at you.  

Whoa. This is the first time I’ve seen Lady Furina up close. She had that same immortal, untouchable aura that Neuvillette also had. Just what you’d expect from a god.  

Once she left the main floor, people began to discuss the events that had just occurred loudly and in earnest. You, however, weren’t paying any attention to them. You were looking at Neuvillette’s office, where you could see the man himself standing at his desk, staring down at it. Occasionally, he glanced at something on the wall. You couldn’t see his expression from here, but you didn’t feel you needed to. He was upset.  

You looked back at Sedene almost reflexively. “Go,” she nodded encouragingly. You looked around briefly. No one was looking in your direction.  

You took in a deep breath to shake off your nerves, even though this was just a simple check-in on your husband? Friend? Neither of those words felt right.  

Don’t overthink this. Just keep things natural, you told yourself, then walked inside the office, closing the doors behind you.  

You couldn’t help but look around at the office as you approached the desk. It was a lot more spacious than you imagined and had an air of elegance that matched its owner.   

Neuvillette didn’t seem to have noticed your entrance. He was still staring at his desk. You could see the deep furrow between his brows, and the frown on his lips. What did he and Lady Furina argue about for him to be brooding over it so much?  

Now that you were here, you had no idea what to say. But you couldn’t just leave now. At that moment, you spotted his silver cup, nearly empty. There was a glass pitcher on a side table. You slowly walked over to it and picked it up, then refilled his cup. He looked up at your movements., and his eyes widened when his eyes landed on your face.   

“Here, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you offered the water to him. “I think you might need it.”  

His hand slowly stretched out to take the cup from you, but his eyes never left your face. “Madame, what are you doing here?”  

“W-Well, I, um...” you fidgeted. “I was just visiting the license office, and then, I saw that there was a c-commotion going on here, and then Lady Furina came out, and you looked very...” Your voice trailed off when you saw his expression change. The troubled look on his face was wiped away like a slate being cleaned, and his usual look returned.  

“You should not have come here. It is better if you do not visit me at the Palais.”  

“Oh...okay,” a wave of disappointment rose up inside your chest. It was understandable, really. Your relationship with Neuvillette needed to be kept as low-key and secretive as possible, and you shouldn’t interrupt him at work—it would only distract him (were you a distraction? Did you qualify as one?). Besides, visiting his workplace was such a...wifely thing to do. “I’m sorry. I was just worried about how you were doing, but I can just ask you at home. I’ll take my leave now, sir. Goodbye.”  

“No, please wait, Madame,” Neuvillette came around to your side of the desk as you slowly backed away. “I apologize for my earlier brusqueness. I was not myself. Please, feel free to stay here.”  

“I shouldn’t...” you said. It was clear that Neuvillette was trying his best to maintain his polite demeanour. “I would only distract you from your important work.”  

“I could use a distraction right now,” Neuvillette said. Wow, that fight with Lady Furina must have been bad, you thought. “And I would very much like to talk to you. That is, if you would like to. I do not wish to force you. ”  

Something in his voice made you stop backing away. It almost sounded like a plea.   

You sat down on the blue couch next to his desk, and Neuvillette likewise sat down in his chair.  

For a few minutes, neither of you spoke. You stared at the wall across from you, at the gramophone in the corner, at the window behind him. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Neuvillette staring at the papers on his desk, occasionally taking a sip of water.  

Should I ask what happened, or should I wait for him to talk about it, you puzzled over the dilemma. Neuvillette wasn’t the type to talk about himself, so it would probably be better if you brought it up, but on the other hand, what if the argument with Furina was about something confidential, like trials or governance, something not meant for you to know?  

Surprisingly, it was Neuvillette who spoke first.   

“Madame, earlier you said that you were visiting the license office. How did it go?”  

“Huh?” you blinked in confusion. That was unexpected. “Oh, um, well, I suppose. I haven’t progressed much on the waiting list at all.”  

“Ah, I see. How unfortunate to hear. But don’t lose heart, I have no doubt that you will get your license in due time.”  

Neuvillette’s expression didn’t change much as he said those words. You weren’t sure what you were expecting.  

“Yes, I know. I hope so too.”  

Another silence. You decided to use this opportunity to ask him about his argument with Furina. “So--”  

“The sunflower seeds you’ve planted seem to be growing well. They seem to be growing taller every time I see them.”  

“...They are, although it would take more than a month before they can bloom.”  

It had been a few weeks since your parents sent you the sunflower seeds. You decided to plant them by the front door as well as in the garden, near the porch door. Despite Neuvillette’s mysterious promise to “do something about the rain,” you had been prepared to go outside to water the seedlings frequently, but sure enough, there had been a full two weeks of rain. Not the long and violent rainstorms of the earlier rainy season, but briefer, gentler showers that were suitable for young, fragile sprouts. These rains seemed to belong in spring rather than summer.  

When you had remarked upon the timeliness and aptness of the rains to Neuvillette, he had said something vague like, “Perhaps someone out there heard your request,” but was amusingly disgruntled when you suggested that the “someone” was most likely Furina, who being the God of Hydro was the most logical answer. “I have my doubts about that,” was all he said.  

You weren’t a fool. You knew that Neuvillette probably used his powers to make it rain. Of course, that was just an assumption, since he disappointingly never used his powers in front of you. For all you knew, he could only breathe fire or something. But still, it was fun to tease him a little by thanking Furina out loud whenever it rained.  

“They would be a sight to behold when the time comes,” Neuvillette said. “I am very much looking forward to it.”  

You nodded. “We should take pictures and invite the Melusines.”  

Now was your chance to ask him. “But putting that aside, what—”  

“Speaking of the Melusines, I’ve heard from them that they have been enjoying your drawing lessons very much.”  

You stared at him. He was definitely doing this on purpose. “I’m glad to hear that, it was enjoyable for me as well,” you said at last when Neuvillette showed no sign of relenting.   

“Were there any difficulties?”  

“It was tough at first,” you admitted. “Since Melusines don’t have fingers, so it was difficult for me to teach them how to grip a pencil properly. And the way they see color is different from humans, too, which leads to a lot of fascinating results when it comes to coloring. But other than that, they are all very good students.”  

Neuvillette nodded, smiling a little, as he always did when the topic of Melusines came up. “It must be good for you as well, to gain teaching experience.”  

It was indeed. You used to help as a teaching assistant at the schoolhouse in your hometown, but ever since you moved to the Court of Fontaine, you had mainly focused on book studying and hardly gained any practical experience.   

“Enough about me,” you said firmly. Neuvillette didn’t seem to have any intention of speaking about the argument at all, and it bothered you deeply. "I want to ask about—”  

“How do you think of taking our honeymoon?” Neuvillette said at the same time.  

“Huh?” You stood up and walked over to him. Were your ears working correctly just now? “I don’t believe I heard you right. Did you just say ‘honeymoon.’?”  

“Yes,” Neuvillette said, then took another sip of water. “Or, um, it could be a date, if you would prefer to think of it that way.”  

Once again, you stared at him with incredulity. He was avoiding your gaze.  

“What brought this on?” you asked, but the answer came to you at once. “Did Lady Furina have something to do with it?”  

Neuvillette said nothing. He was really going to drag this out, wasn’t he, you thought. Feeling a stab of annoyance, you moved over to the side of the desk and bent down so that you were looking him directly in the eye.  

“Monsieur, let me repeat my question once again. Is your argument with Lady Furina behind this proposal?”  

“Yes,” he breathed, staring back into your eyes. It was an uncomfortable feeling, but you pressed on.  

“Did the argument have to do with our marriage?”  

“...Yes,” he said, and then cleared his throat. You waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t.  

“Alright, then,” you said at last. “I will go on this honeymoon or date or whatever with you.”  

“You will?” Neuvillette looked genuinely surprised. “I do not want you to feel pressured. You are under no obligation to accept. I...do not want you to agree because you are afraid of me.”  

Now you felt concerned. “Do I seem afraid of you, sir?”  

There was a discomforting pause before he answered, “I do not know. I am not good at discerning these sorts of things.”  

“Then, allow me to make it clear,” you said and straightened up. “I am not doing this out of fear or intimidation of you. I’m agreeing out of my own desire to find out just what exactly is troubling you. This is the same for anything you ask of me.”  

Neuvillette stared at your face. Something he saw there must have convinced him, for you felt an invisible tension disappear from him. “I’m very pleased to hear that.”  

The two of you smiled at each other for a moment, then looked away.  

“So, when are we going on this honeymoon?” you asked to distract from the delicate atmosphere that had appeared. “I should start preparing right away.”  

“Tomorrow,” Neuvillette replied, like it was natural to simply go on vacations the very next day. “It will only be for a day, I’m afraid.”  

“Tomorrow?” you exclaimed. “So soon?”  

“Why not tomorrow? In my experience, it is always better to take action right away.”  

“But...but, what about your duties. The crime rates?”  

“I am going to arrange for my subordinates to handle a part of my work. There are no trials tomorrow, and I have faith that the Palais can do without me for one day. You don’t have any plans tomorrow as well, Madame?”  

You shook your head. “Then...have you already decided where we’re going to go?”  

“I have. It’s somewhere I have wanted to take you to for some time.”  

You felt your cheeks turn red despite yourself. “I-I see. Then I’m sure it must be somewhere amazing.”  

In addition to your worry and concern about Neuvillette, there was now a thin thread of excitement. You had never really travelled before. And now the Chief Justice himself was personally taking you somewhere.  

You wandered around the office, your dormant imagination going wild. Since it was Neuvillette, it must be a place with lots of water. Maybe he was taking you to the beach? Did you need to buy swimwear? Would Neuvillette bring swimwear? You briefly attempted to imagine him swimming before immediately pushing that thought out of your mind. It felt indecent.  

“Wait...” you stopped in front of a very familiar painting. It was jarring against the brightly lit room and even the gilt frame surrounding it. How had you not noticed it before? “You hung my painting in your office?”  

“Ah, yes,” Neuvillette walked over to you. “I found that this was the most suitable place for it.”  

He then noticed your distressed expression, and his face fell. “...Do you not want me to hang it here?”  

“Oh, no, no, not at all,” you shook your head. “It’s my gift to you, so you should do whatever you like with it, it’s just that...”  

“Yes?” Neuvillette prompted you.  

“It’s just that...it looks so out of place here. If I had known you were going to put it here, I would have painted something better.”  

“There is no need for that,” Neuvillette said. “I enjoy looking at it. It brings me calm, particularly on bright, stressful days like these. I feel as though I am looking out a window into the rain.”  

“Oh!” Your voice cracked, and you felt lightheaded. You hadn't considered it anything special, you just wanted to show your gratitude to him and hoped he found it pleasing. You assumed that he put it in his study or something, but you never expected for him to put it here, where doubtless so many important people visited. And yet it was hung up proudly, like the work of a master.  

I enjoy looking at it. It brings me calm.  

You felt extremely embarrassed—but also an overpowering joy that you hadn’t experienced in a long, long time.  

“I-I see,” you stuttered out. What was going on? A moment ago, you felt utterly calm, and now you were acting like a nervous schoolgirl. You slowly backed away. “A-As the a-artist, I-I'm, um, very happy to hear that.”  

Neuvillette frowned. “Are you alright, Madame?”  

You could only imagine the expression on your face right now. “Y-Yes, sir. I’m perfectly fine. I should really take my leave now and leave you to your duties. I’ll, um, see you at home!”  

You turned your back to a dumbfounded Neuvillette and opened the doors, then peeked outside. The Gestionnaires were all bent over their typewriters. You slipped outside.  

You did your best to maintain your composure as you walked out of the Palais, and descended in the elevator, before inexplicably breaking into a run, all the way back home.  

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@just-simping-over-genshin, @xalphafox, @jqnehr, @favficdump, @thetwinkims, @cielclassy, @the-mxs-of-many, @mxyarylla, @lynettezz

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x female reader #the winding path of fate #my works

[ingravinoveritas]

So Al post always have to make sure she the centre of attention on Ms big night which doesn't come as a shock in that photo michael look tense and stiff and where the smile it exactly same as the other he pulls when he with her georgia one on seems more general and supportive of her friend and husband best friend then his actual parter

Would love to hear ur thoughts on this one

Hi there! Well, my DMs have been blowing up all afternoon about these various posts, and...yeah. A lot to unpack here, for sure.

It's interesting to see the use of two very different pictures here--one posed, one a candid pic/selfie--and how that frames everything else that is going on, and highlights several contrasts that are much too great to ignore. Perhaps the most significant contrast is that in the posed photo, Michael and AL are barely touching, and the photographer seems to have made the choice not to pose them like a couple. There is also no apparent "pull" that is unconsciously bringing them together, in spite of whatever direction they might've been given. In the picture of Michael and David, however, not only are they sitting very close together, but that "pull" is readily visible, and you can see them leaning/melting into each other without any effort. So that by itself on a foundational, fundamental level puts these pictures into two very different places.

The second aspect of the contrast--again, in my opinion--is the impersonal nature of Anna's post vs. Georgia's. Anna is posting a Getty Images picture with a watermark with another generic "Darling" caption (the same as she did in another post when the first episode of The Way aired a few weeks ago). At this point it feels, as @invisibleicewands previously described, akin to a "Best regards" at the end of an e-mail. And again, it's not only a photo shoot pic instead of a personal one--an especially strange choice given that Michael has repeatedly talked about how much he hates photo shoots--but a shot where Michael looks stiff and so uncharacteristically subdued.

In the picture Georgia posted, we see that twinkle in his eye, how relaxed he looks, full of that life and joy that we've come to so strongly associate with Michael, and it makes it even more stark how absent that is from the second picture. And further adding to all of this is what you mentioned, about AL centering herself/how she and Michael look in this post, as opposed to the opening of the play.

If we had any doubts about this, Anna seems to have taken the point home this with the story she posted immediately following this one:

For those who may not know, this is a photo from the show Schitt's Creek, of the actors who play the main family (special shout-out to Catherine O'Hara and Eugene Levy, my loves). I have not actually seen the show, so I can't attest to anything specific about the characters' personalities, but it appears this is who AL thinks she and Michael look like. I would say, though, that what is apparent to me is that Anna's priority in posting that first Insta story was the aesthetic/the picture, rather than celebrating Michael or the opening night of the play. Putting these two things together, Michael almost seems like the smallest part of the post, which is an odd thing to do when tonight is the opening night of his play.

And this again wildly contrasts with Georgia's post, where the picture is merely a vehicle for something much deeper, and much more meaningful. Just the positioning of the word "Michael" at the center of the picture is a visual cue that lets us know what this post is about, and this is further augmented by the caption for all of the reasons I enumerated here. I also can't help thinking that there was a reason that a picture of Michael and David was used--not a picture of Michael by himself, and not a picture of Michael and Georgia--and given that this Insta story was posted after AL's, it makes me wonder if that was a deliberate choice, for multiple reasons...

So yes, those are my thoughts on these two Insta stories/pictures from today. I'm definitely interested to see what posts or pictures we might get following tonight's performance/press night (and fingers crossed that David actually made it to the show this time). Also glad as always to hear from my followers about your take on these posts. Thanks for writing in! x

#angel19924 #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #georgia tennant #nye the play #national theatre #when your boyfriend and his wife hype you up more than your own girlfriend #also every time she posts something now it just seems to get more awful #if you had her post without Georgia's it would look a lot different #but that picture of Michael and David is like night and day to the one with AL #and the more she tries to look like she owns him the more obvious it is she doesn't #choices #not all of them good #but i will leave it to my followers to make up their own minds #anna lundberg #discourse

[mint-yooxgi]

{2} - To Tempt Fate - Yandere!Trickster Deities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Trickster AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Suspense

Pairing: Ateez X Reader

Words: 2,942

Warnings: This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Sorry the chapter is a little later than promised, I was hoping to post before dinner by my parents beat me to it lol. Anyways, this chapter mainly sets up more of the OC’s personality and focusses on the exploration aspect of survival horror. The guys aren’t too active to start, but next chapter should be a very pleasant reading experience for Wooyoung Stans hehehe *wink wink* Anyways, I really hope you all like this part, and as always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I do not do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist - Part One

You make it to the edge of the maze entrance before freezing in your spot. Perhaps walking in blindly to whatever death traps await you isn’t such a smart idea after all. You could lose your way back, or worse, the maze could begin to shift on its own. Perhaps you should finish exploring the little room you woke up in first before venturing out into the unknown. Besides, there may be some more useful items hidden within.

Turning around, you head back towards the small shack. You make sure to leave the door open, lest someone decides to sneak up on you, or the door re-locks once it’s been closed. Luckily, you don’t seem to hear anything creeping around in the bushes, but then again, it is unnaturally silent around here, too.

Shifting your head from side to side, your eyes scan every inch of the room you woke up in. There seems to be a small bathroom attached at the back that you didn’t notice before, having been too concerned with escaping the confines of these four walls at the time. Checking under the small sink reveals a stack of towels of varying sizes for bathing, as well as a tiny med-kit with some antiseptic and bandages.

Odd, considering in all of your years of researching these insanity games, you’ve never once read about someone receiving healing items before. Though, you’re not complaining. That is, if this medicinal kit is real. Who knows, it could just be poison disguised as something that could help you, doing more harm than good. At least the bandages should help in case of injury.

Standing back to your full height, you briefly meet your gaze in the mirror. Your eyes are still tired, but that’s probably a result of whatever drug they used to get you here. At least, the more you move around, the better your mobility improves. Even your head seems clearer the more you explore, vision becoming sharper with every second that passes.

Giving one final look around the bathroom, you peer into the tiny shower in the corner. Everything you could possibly need, down to your favourite body wash is provided for you. A fact of which makes a chill run down your spine.

It may not be luxury, but it certainly feels as if you’re being pampered.

With a furrow to your brow, you step back into the main area of the room.

Softly, you close the door behind you, eyes scanning the four corners around you all the while. Again, you spot the bed shoved against the one wall, the space just large enough to fit a lamp at the foot of it. A little to the left of the bed is the front door which sits directly across from the bathroom door, perfectly mirroring the entranceway on either side of the shack. 

To your immediate left, and beside the bathroom door, rests the dresser. It sits about as tall as your chest, a light ochre in colour to match the wooden bed frame. There are four drawers, which you take the time to properly search through now.

The topmost drawer reveals socks, underwear and the like, and you shudder in disgust. There appears to be eight delicate sets of lingerie found within, each a very specific colour. Almost as if to match a personal preference of sorts. Eight personal preferences.

Slamming the drawer shut, you move onto the next, a scowl on your features. At least the next drawer contains more normal pieces of clothing, mainly consisting of various shirts. Considering this had been the drawer you found those pins in, it doesn’t surprise you all that much. Still, the fact that so far, everything is in your size makes your skin crawl.

The third drawer down reveals different pairs of pants, again, conveniently in your size. Leggings, jeans, sweatpants, even a pair of leather pants greets you, and you find yourself quickly flipping through the selection.

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head when you spot a key buried beneath the stacks of clothing. It’s silver, though not very large in size. More of an old fashioned key, if anything, with an intricate design at the top, while the bottom juts out like a leaf.

You frown, not quite sure what this key could be for. However, you’ll hang onto it for now. It could be useful later on.

Taking a knee, you attempt to open the fourth and final drawer at the bottom of the dresser. Only, as soon as you go to pull it open, it’s as if it’s stuck in place. That’s when you notice the little keyhole in the centre of the drawer, keeping it locked shut.

Sparing a glance over your shoulder and out of the open door behind you, you make sure no one has snuck up on you. Seeing no one, you turn back to the drawer before you.

Holding the key you’ve just found in your hand, you slowly go to place it into the lock. Except, it doesn’t even fit in the keyhole.

You click your tongue in annoyance, standing back to your feet. You could take the time to pick the lock again, like you did the front door, but that would require you to get down onto your stomach to do so. The last thing you want is someone to run in behind you while you’re on the ground. That’s the easiest way to take you out.

That’s when you realize something.

Turning back to the front door, you walk over to it slowly. Keeping the door open, you take that key in your hand once more. Carefully, you push it into the keyhole, noticing how it fits perfectly within the slot. Turning it causes a satisfying click to sound, the knob refusing to turn as you test the lock.

Looks like you’ve found the proper key to your room.

You nearly snort to yourself. If you had simply looked one drawer down, you wouldn’t have had to pick the lock.

Oh, well, at least you know you now have options.

Pulling the key out of the lock, you close the door. Now, you should have no trouble picking the lock on the bottom drawer. You won’t have to worry about someone barging in with your back turned, leaving yourself open and vulnerable while on the ground.

You catch your gaze in the full length mirror, letting out a sigh as you crawl onto your stomach. Once you’re eye level with the keyhole, you’re pulling those pins out of your pocket to begin picking the lock.

This one is a little more challenging than the front door, but after a few minutes, you manage to hear the satisfying click of the lock sliding out of place. As soon as you do, you’re sitting back onto your knees, sliding the drawer open in the next moment.

An empty drawer greets your gaze.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You exhale a long sigh through your nose, frown tugging at your features.

All that work for nothing?

That’s when you realize something. These are tricksters you’re dealing with. Nothing is meant to be easy. Nothing is always something.

Leaning forward slightly, you begin to trace your hand along the bottom of the draw, feeling for imperfections in the design. The fact that the wood seems to shift slightly the closer to the edges you get, you realize that there’s a false bottom to this drawer.

Sliding your hand beneath the bottom drawer, you knock on the wood.

Something knocks back.

You startle in your spot, falling back onto your ass as you stare in bewilderment at the drawer. You can hear your heartbeat racing in your ears, the familiar pounding thumping erratically against your chest.

With shaking hands, you attempt to calm yourself down.

Slowly, carefully, you push yourself back onto your knees, peering into the drawer once more. Only this time, when you look, you notice a small metal handle near the one end of the drawer.

Your eyes narrow at the new discovery, glancing around the room to see if anything else has changed. Luckily, nothing else seems to be out of the ordinary so far, but now, one thing is for certain. You truly cannot trust anything in this place.

Peering back into the drawer, you hesitate. The latch that appeared is indeed metal, which could mean a number of things. However, the most prominent in your mind is that it could be electrified. The moment you go to touch it could spell your death. That, or it could be rigged to destroy whatever is hidden beneath it like in that one anime you watched recently.

Getting as close to the drawer as you can while on your stomach, you push the wood up as far as it will go. Conveniently, you do see another small opening placed close to the front, meaning you could stick something small beneath the draw to push the false bottom upwards.

“What is this, some intense escape room?” You huff dryly, dropping your hold on the drawer and pushing yourself back to your feet.

With nothing but irritation shining on your features, you glance around the room once more. Carefully, you place the key to the front door and the pins you had been using on top of the dresser. There’s no point in keeping them in your pockets for the moment, seeing as you have no use for them right now.

Finally, you turn to inspect the final object held within the shack.

The bookcase is large, various titles looking back at you as your eyes scan the shelves. Though, the more you inspect it, the worse your feeling of dread becomes.

Not only does this bookshelf contain most of your favourite book series, but every single book you’ve read and used for your research about them. Even worse, there seem to be personalized journals tucked away on some of the shelves. Eight to be exact. Journals of which you do not recognize, but with how specific the colours are, again, you do not have to wonder too hard about who they belong to.

Just what is going on here?

You’ll deal with those, later. Right now, you’re more concerned about finding a small stick or something you can use to prop open that drawer with.

Annoyance crosses your features as you realize exactly what you can use.

Swiping the key from on top of your dresser, you’re quick to unlock your front door. Sticking your head out, you do a quick survey of the area before walking over to the nearest maze wall. Carefully, you reach out your hand, brushing your fingers against the leaves before you. Tugging a somewhat sturdy branch towards you, you snap a small part of it off the plant, walking back inside your shack without another thought.

Little do you notice a pair of pure white eyes that follow you gleefully from within the darkness.

Closing the door behind you and locking it once more, you’re quick to crawl back onto your stomach. Sliding the stick beneath the drawer, it takes you about a minute before you can properly line it up with the opening. Once you do, you’re pushing up, hoping beyond anything that the small twig doesn’t snap beneath the pressure.

Luckily, the branch seems to be pretty sturdy. Sturdy enough for you to prop it against the ground as you slide the false bottom of the drawer up using your nails. There’s no way you’re touching that metal handle until you know it’s safe to do so.

As soon as the wood is removed, you place it to the side, leaning it against the wall. Peering back into the drawer reveals a sight that has you scowling in annoyed disappointment.

All of that just for another small key, a string, some pencils, and a paperclip? At least the string that you see could actually be useful.

Reaching in, you grab the items in your hands, placing them on the floor beside you. The small key continues to rest in your hand, and you eye it skeptically.

“I swear to fucking god…” you slip the key into the lock on the front of the drawer, noticing how it fits perfectly.

Your eyes widen, a closed mouth scream of frustration nearly escaping you as it perfectly turns the lock back into place before your very eyes.

Pursing your lips, you turn the key once more, unlatching the lock.

You were aware of it before, but this just solidifies the fact: these games are rigged for you to fail.

Shaking your head, you slide the stick back out from beneath the drawer, looking over the other few items again. The string is not very long, but it’s enough to slide both keys onto and tie around your neck. The length allows you to hide the items beneath your shirt for now, easily being able to slip it off if you have to.

At least you’ll have use for that.

The pencils could actually be useful if you can find some paper, or even an empty notebook to create a map of the maze in. This way, you can ensure you don’t get lost. Plus, if the maze does shift every day, you’ll be able to track patterns or recognize any changes when they occur.

Sliding the paperclip onto the string around your neck, you sigh. It could come in useful if any of the pins break while you’re picking more locks.

Carefully, you reassemble the drawer, putting everything back in place. The wood slowly slides down, securing the false bottom once more as you tap it in at the edges. Perhaps you could use this as a hiding place for important things if necessary.

Silver linings in a room full of darkness.

Closing the drawer, you stand back to your feet with the pencils in hand. There are three, so you place two on top of the dresser with the small pins. You need to make sure you don’t burn through your resources before you have a chance to escape. Not that you have much of value, but it’s better to be safe than sorry.

Tucking those pins back into your pocket, you clutch the pencil in your hand. At least it could potentially be used as a close combat weapon if needed. Though, you don’t know how accurate you’ll be when going for someone’s throat with a pencil.

Turning back to the bookshelf, your eyes scan the contents once more. Even if you have to use any of the books on the shelves, you should be able to create those maps of the maze on their inside covers. Though, from the way a small notebook catches your gaze, you don’t think you’ll need to.

Now, if only you could find a small bag to carry things with.

Reaching over to the shelf, you slide that notebook into your hands. Flipping through the pages, all of them appear to be blank. Well, all except one.

Opening the notebook to the final page, you see what appears to be a poem of sorts written in red ink. Well, what you hope is red ink.

Eight powerful demons, one thorough plan.

Eight longing tricksters, one desperate that fled and ran.

Yellow to bloom predictions, never wanting to show his hand.

Blue as cold as ice, yet as fluid as sand.

Purple so dark, it appears to be black,

Yet, beware of his sudden attack.

Red calls for blood, of which he will never lack.

Orange that will burn you, so watch your back.

White so pure, it can hide the shadow within,

Lies so sweet, they sound as sin.

Beware of black and his deadly smile,

It can lure you in: false sense, denial.

Even green, as bright as day,

Can be ever cunning, so heed what they say.

The games have begun, notice the sound,

Look, Dear Fated, they are all around.

They will never stop, nor will they sleep,

Because it’s always been YOU that they ever seek.

A game so intense, winning is none,

Flee while you can, for the fun has only just begun.

A shiver caresses your spine as you finish reading what is on the page. You can feel your skin prickling beneath the chill, almost as if someone is watching you. Though, despite the way your head whips around the small room, you can find nothing out of the ordinary once more.

Heaving a sigh, you close the notebook. At least this little poem is offering you some information. The colours are clearly a reference to each of their eyes, and the little snippets must be related to their personalities, or specific powers. That you still need to figure out, but once you put a name to their face, you’ll be able to identify each one of these eight tricksters better.

Still, the potential meaning behind this poem scares you to your core. The man on the phone did say that these games would be different this time around, and you have a sneaking suspicion as to how. Especially if this little note is anything to go by.

This time, the prize for them won’t be getting to watch these insanity games unfold, nor is it the usual massacre that occurs within. These tricksters thrive off the madness these games create within people, but that doesn’t seem to be their main goal, their main desire, this time around.

No. This time, their prize will be you.

#yandere ateez #yandere au #yandere kpop #ateez scenario #ateez imagines #yandere wooyoung #yandere hongjoong #yandere seonghwa #yandere san #yandere yeosang #yandere mingi #yandere jongho #yandere yunho #yunho scenario #jongho scenario #mingi scenario #san scenario #yeosang scenarios #seonghwa scenario #hongjoong scenario #wooyoung scenario #kpop au #kpop scenario #trickster au

[presumenothing]

so we all know the drill, yeah? my keyboard slipped etc etc and thus i present: 吉祥纹莲花楼 aka LOTUS CASEBOOK (the novel) CHAPTER ONE: TASTER EDITION further aka "the first chapter, but minus the Case Exposition bit because wow noooope". note also that this is not as serious nor thoroughly-edited as some of my other TLs (nif fandom alumni may remember me from known, unknown aka this absolute unit/research spiral of a post-canon fic; this is Not That and also, hi!!). and now with that out of the way, enjoy! ETA: fixed some missing bits that got eaten while posting to tumblr + only maybe 30% on-topic footnotes over here

PART THE FIRST: A GHOST, MURDER, IN THE GREEN GAUZE WINDOW

Changzhou City, Xiaomian Inn.

The seventeenth of the sixth month, just around midnight.

It had been two days since Cheng Yunhe, the head convoy of Hexing Convoy Company, started escorting these sixteen boxes of precious goods. Though all had been well so far, he felt tight-strung with exhaustion, and despite having fallen asleep he woke up without quite knowing why.

Silence permeated the dark room.

Outside the window… there was singing.

Faint waves of sound, barely discernible, as if someone was singing; and apparently quite in earnest, too, but in an incredibly odd tone… just as if… someone was singing with their tongue cut out. 

He opened his eyes, and looked at the window directly across from his bed.

Amidst the darkness, green flecks flickered dim and sudden across that window, now far then near, and only on this one window across from him.

Outside the window, the faraway song continued, that broken tongue singing a tragic melody that no-one living could possibly understand…

He’d already practised almost forty years of martial arts, and though his hearing and sight might not be the top in the jianghu, it could hardly be weak either, but he… could not make out the sound of anything human.

As the wind whistled through the slightly-ajar window, he stared at that window with its flickering green shadows – and for the very first time in his life, he thought of a word – ghosts?

–

ONE: LUCKY PATTERN LOTUS PARLOUR

The broad daylight of a sunny day.

Bingshan Town was not a remarkable place by any means; it had neither rare treasure nor great legends, and just like the vast majority of places in the jianghu, its denizens were a little boring, its crops a tad skinny, its rivers a tinge dirty, and its post-meal conversational topics a touch lacking… far too lacking, actually, so whenever there was something everyone had to delight in it for the longest time – not to mention how that recent happening was an odd one indeed.

The tale so far: on this day, the eighteenth of the month, when the people of Bingshan Town opened their doors to sweep their stoops, they abruptly found that their only-too-familiar main street had suddenly sprouted a two-storey wooden building. This building was hardly a short one, either, fully capable of housing people inside, and in spacious lodgings no less; it was made fully of wood, and engraved with patterns unusually fine and ornate, that even a blind person could recognise by touch – none other than lotus flowers and auspicious clouds.

After a good half-day’s worth of discussion, some eagle-eyed people recognised at last how this building had “suddenly appeared”: though its structure was that of a building, it turned out that it was not connected to the ground… at any rate, this building had been pulled by someone with a cart, here to the main street of their Bingshan Town, and put it there. Everyone expressed their amazement at this, but nobody could comprehend why anyone would bother dragging over such a large building in the dead of night just to leave it on the street, or what it could possibly be for. Perhaps as a shrine for their town god? Though speaking of which, their local shrine had indeed fallen into disrepair and gone unworshipped for many years now…

Such debate continued for three days straight, up until an express convoy working at some company who happened to be coming home was struck dumbfounded upon seeing it, screeched “The Lucky Parlour!” and there and then turned to run madly away without even returning home, still yelling “Lucky Parlour!” along the way – and thus the building abruptly became a haunted house, that would drive anyone who saw it right mad.

Only seven days later, when that express convoy suddenly brought the entire convoy company back to Bingshan Town, did the masses discover that said building was not in fact some haunted house. 

Not only was it not a haunted house, it was actually an auspicious building, a super-duper auspicious building. 

The “Lucky Pattern Lotus Parlour” was a medical clinic.

Its master was of surname Li, named Lianhua.

What kind of a person was Li Lianhua? As a matter of fact, nobody in the jianghu knew either. Whether his master, his background, the level of his martial arts, his age, or even the matter of his looks: all of it was unknown. Six years had passed since this person appeared in the jianghu, and in total he’d done only two things, but just these two things alone had been enough to turn the “Lucky Pattern Lotus Parlour” into the single most fascinating legend in the jianghu.

The two things Li Lianhua had done: the first was bringing back to life the martial scholar “Lifelong Learner” Shi Wenjue, who’d been buried for many days after dying from major injuries after a decisive duel. The second was bringing back to life “Ironflute Hero” He Lantie, who’d also been buried for many days with all his bones broken after dying from a cliff fall.

Just these two incidents alone had already made Li Lianhua the one figure in the jianghu that people most wanted to acquaint themselves with, but there was also the matter of his strange house that he always brought along with him – this only made Li Lianhua more of a legend amongst legends.

The head convoy of Hexing Convoy Company led every last one of his men on swift horseback to Bingshan Town, and after three days of clean baths and devout incense, finally delivered on great tenterhooks a letter of greeting to that building carved of precious softwood: Cheng Yunhe of Hexing Convoy Company wishes to consult on an important matter.

Said letter was pushed in via a window gap.

All forty-odd men of the company waited alongside Cheng Yunhe, as if it was the King of Hell inside of that building, passing judgement––

Soon after, that building that had been so silent as to seem unoccupied let out the faintest of creaking sounds. All of Hexing Convoy held their breath, and even the rubbernecking passers-by caught theirs, too, widening their eyes to better await whatever creature could possibly emerge from this building.

The door swung swiftly open, and not in the slow swing of everyone’s imagination.

A large cloud of dust burst forth with a bang, blowing all over Cheng Yunhe, and the figure in the door made a sound of dismay, saying with great apology: “I was tidying up odds and ends, and didn’t even realise I had guests, my apologies, apologies indeed.”

All of Hexing Convoy, now covered in dust and sawdust, stared in astonishment at the one who’d opened the door with a broom in one hand; the very same broom where that bright red greeting letter was now stuck on. He looked very young, no older than twenty-seven or twenty-eight, and perhaps even a little younger than that if not for the much-mended grey robes he was wearing; his skin was fair and his looks refined, but neither was he so beautifully handsome as to be unforgettable from a glance. He held the broom in his right hand and a dustpan in his left, and looked out at the dozens-strong line outside his door with a face full of apology.

Cheng Yunhe gave a heavy cough, and saluted in greeting: “I, “Thousand-Mile Crane” Cheng Yunhe, humbly greet Li-xiansheng of the Lucky Parlour; may I perhaps request that you pass a message to him that there is a matter I wish to consult him on?”

“Ah,” said the grey-robed young man. “A message?”

Cheng Yunhe spoke gravely: “I fear we must meet with Li Lianhua, Li-xiansheng himself, for there is crucial business to discuss.”

The young man set down the broom. “I am indeed Li Lianhua.”

Cheng Yunhe’s eyes widened abruptly, mouth falling open, and in that moment every last bystander wanted nothing more than to toss three or five eggs into his mouth. Very swiftly he shut it again, and gave another heavy cough. “Your good reputation precedes you, Li-xiansheng…” 

And then he found himself at a loss on how to continue, for he had already detailed the ins and outs of the matter on the greeting letter, but that same letter was now stuck on Li Lianhua’s broom.

Li Lianhua said: “Apologies, apologies… my residence is covered in clutter at the moment…”

He raised a hand to invite Cheng Yunhe inside.

The Lucky Pattern Lotus Parlour was indeed covered in assorted junk; from nails to hammer, saw to axe, dustcloths to broom, sawdust and dust everywhere, and a few boxes holding who-knew-what. The front room held only one table and chair each, both made of bamboo and not worth even twenty bronze coins. Cheng Yunhe felt heavy doubt in his heart, but what with the sheer reputation of the Lucky Pattern Lotus Parlour, and this grey-robed man to be sitting in it, he dared not to suspect him to be a fake, either; and thus he was left with no choice but to sit respectfully across from Li Lianhua and recount every part of those fearsome events he’d encountered a half-month ago.

[––CASE EXPOSITION CUT FOR SANITY––]

Such was the tale of the “Green Window Ghost Murder” that had thrown the martial world into heated debate over the last half a month. Yu Mulan, heartbroken over the senseless death of his beloved daughter, flew into a rage and commanded the death of all the swordsmen who had been escorting Yu Qiushuang that night, alongside a kill order for the entirety of Hexing Convoy Company. Cheng Yunhe, pushed to his wits’ end, had been about to bring his family and disband the company for a scattered escape when he heard the news of the Lucky Parlour.

Li Lianhua could bring the dead back to life – and so Cheng Yunhe suddenly thought: if Li Lianhua could resurrect Yu Qiushuang, wouldn’t that resolve everything? Resurrection was not something he would have ever believed in, just a half-month ago, but with matters the way they were now he could only work with what he had, dead or otherwise, and since the heavens had seen fit to let him come across Li Lianhua, why not give it a try? After all… if the legends were true, all could not but be well.

But even until he’d finished recounting the “Green Window Ghost Murder” incident, he hadn’t heard any startling insights out of Li Lianhua, only an ah and a nod of his head.

After finishing his tea, Cheng Yunhe had no choice but to leave. He truly could not think of any good reason to remain any longer in that empty building of Li Lianhua’s, full of assorted junk and Li Lianhua’s expression full of gentle incomprehension. 

Cheng Yunhe departed.

From the second storey of the Lucky Pattern Lotus Parlour, someone said, leisurely: “Even five years later, you’re still plenty famous, aren’t you…”

Li Lianhua sat on the chair, drinking tea. “Ah…”

Who even knew what he was ah-ing about.

“Actually I’ve never been able to figure it out.” That figure descended slowly from the second storey. He was thin and pale, all skin and bones, and perhaps if he gained twenty pounds he’d be a elegantly beautiful young man, but as it stood he mostly just resembled a victim of starvation. Yet this particular hungry corpse also happened to be wearing a set of rich white robes of particularly meticulous workmanship, with the tassel and jade ornaments favoured only by those fine young masters untouched by worldly troubles, and a long sword with an unusually elegant shape to its hilt. “How could anyone in this world possibly believe in something like resurrection? It’s been five whole years, and yet nobody has forgotten those two scandals of yours…”

“Because none of them are as smart as you.” Li Lianhua smiled faintly, stood up to stretch, then picked up his broom and resumed sweeping the floor.

“Can you not sweep the floor?” The hungry corpse from the upper storey suddenly glared. “How can you possibly keep sweeping when I, the great Fang-dagongzi, am here right in front of you? Do you realise that if Cheng Yunhe had known I was in here just now, he’d definitely kneel down and beg me too ask that old geezer Yu not to slaughter his entire family? You have a young master of my handsome looks and eminent status in front of you, and yet you’ve been doing nothing but sweep the floor?"

“I can’t.” Li Lianhua said: “I haven’t cleaned and repaired this building in too long. It’s very dirty, and leaks when it rains, too.”

The white-robed corpse kept up the wide-eyed glaring for many moments longer, before suddenly letting out a sigh. “Someone like you who can’t fight and can’t treat diseases, who doesn’t plant crops or commit theft either – how have you even managed to survive all these years in such fame? I really don’t get it.” 

This white-robed hungry corpse was “Melancholic Young Master” Fang Duobing, the eldest son of the of the Fang martial family. He’d known Li Lianhua for an entire six years, long enough that he even knew exactly how this same person had come to fame – Shi Wenjue had suffered major injuries in his duel and used the Turtle’s Breath method to close his qi and recover, the local villagers had taken him for dead and buried him, Li Lianhua had gone to dig him up, and thus Shi Wenjue had naturally come back to life; He Lantie, on the other hand, had staged an entire cliff jump after failing in his pursuit of a wife, played dead and buried himself in the ground, and Li Lianhua who’d just happened to be passing by dug him out yet again. The whole world was wondering how Li Lianhua had managed to bring the dead back to life, while all Fang Duobing wanted to know was how he knew where on earth (or under it) there’d be a live person to dig up.

“I did still have some silver coins, a while ago.” Li Lianhua carefully swept the front room, then put away the dustpan. “As long as you plan well, you can still make do.”

Fang Duobing rolled his eyes. “And how much silver do you have now?”

“Fifty taels.” Li Lianhua smiled faintly. “That’s enough to use for a lifetime, to me.”

Fang Duobing tsked. “To think that there’s losers like you in the martial world, who only plan to spend fifty taels in their whole life, it’s practically a shame upon the jianghu. Had Cheng Yunhe known what kind of person you are, I’d like to see whether he still would’ve come asking for help… heh, asking a ‘miracle doctor’ who doesn’t know a drop of medicine and has to go everywhere with his house on his back because he’s too stingy to stay in an inn, to go treat the dead, I can’t believe he thought of that.” Fang Duobing rolled his eyes again for good measure, and eyed Li Lianhua up and down. “Though I can’t actually tell whether you are going to help him go treat the dead or not.”

Li Lianhua sat on the chair, fingers still meticulously fiddling away with the interlocking joint on that squeaky bamboo table of his, and gave a small smile upon hearing this. “Why wouldn’t I go? After all, I don’t know how to plant crops, or sell vegetables, and I’m not in want of coin. Wouldn’t life be incredibly boring if I didn’t have something to do?”

“When that old geezer Yu finds out that you’re a fake miracle doctor and decides to kill your entire family, Fang-dagongzi is absolutely not going to save you,” Fang Duobing said, leisurely. “Go on then, don’t expect this young master here to see you off.”

And so it was that Li Lianhua spent a whole three days tidying up inside the Lucky Pattern Lotus Parlour, packing who-knows-what into that small parcel of his, and after meticulously writing a lengthy missive temporarily entrusting the parlour to the care of “Lifelong Learner” Shi Wenjue, he set off at last.

He was headed to Yu Fortress, to see the corpse of Yu Qiushuang.

#mysterious lotus casebook #莲花楼 #li lianhua #fang duobing #mine #long post #might add some footnotes tomorrow but it is also 三更 here so later it is #+ feel free to give a shout (reply or rb tag) if you'd like a ping if/when i crosspost to ao3! #(haven't actually decided if i'll do that for archival reasons. bluh) #(who's tidying up in this house? nobody definitely not me) #(.......note to self i should probably also archive that zs interview somewhere at some point) #li lianhua: *sweeping the floor* fang duobing: IN FRONT?? OF MY SALAD?????

[thetwilightroadtonightfall]

I need n e e d to ramble about Eph’s family again because it’s the only thing keeping me from ripping a door off of its hinges atm—but wait! I’m doing something different today. I’m gonna go backwards in the family tree (which you can view here if you wish! But it’s not necessary for the purposes of this post)

So a lil while ago on twitter, @/kwoojii asked for Ephemera backstory headcanons (well specifically they also asked about his commitment issues 😄) so I figured why not share what I said and expand on it here?

I need to give additional context, because this goes into general edgy headcanon territory. Below are screenshots from one of my fic documents [Overmorrow Character and Lore Files - File 3 (pgs 2-3)] explaining what I imagine the situation in Daybreak Town is:

Now to get into the main part: My backstory headcanon for Ephemera is that he was raised by two moms. They owned a library, and even had a small textile business on the side. As you can probably guess, Eph grew up surrounded by books, and got his scarf from them. They loved him dearly, and tried their best to give him a good life.

But they fell on hard times. In the midsts of their struggles, they were eventually approached by the MoM. They talked a lot and came around to trust the clever, charismatic, even sympathetic guy. And he made them a promise that their son would be well cared for under his watch 👁️ So, convinced by the MoM’s words…these mothers choose to give up their only child in hopes that he’ll have a better quality of life elsewhere.

Eph has very vague memories of them. He remembers being loved, but he also remembers being abandoned and left alone for a long time (however long it takes for the MoM to get things set up in Daybreak Town; I assume the kids are kept in some liminal space in the meantime).….hence the commitment issues. He learns to figure things out on his own, and that carries over into his early days as a keyblade wielder. He likes being with people, but he relies on himself first and foremost. He tends to keep a bit of emotional distance between himself and others without meaning to because he subconsciously thinks that one day, they might leave him too. It’s easier to be the one who leaves than it is to be the one who gets left behind.

But this makes his bond with the other union leaders and Player all the more meaningful, because they all choose to stand together again and again, despite the odds, and their own personal doubts and fears.

It’s a bit of a downer, I know…but I assume it’d be like that not just for Eph and his parents, but for most of the other Daybreak kids and their parents too.

…Can I perhaps offer you some of my old doodles from last year as consolation? 😄

Phoebe Ophiuchus (left) and Paraphernalia “Nalia” Lumen (right), the lesbians that started it all 🤍

#khux #ephemer #my headcanons #my art #the ophiuchus family tree #s/o to eph and his moms for giving me a very specific type of brainrot long before ml existed! #with how much I’ve been yapping about his family lately I’m genuinely surprised at myself that I’ve never talked about phoebe and nalia! #I created them in like….2018 I think. well now you know I guess!! #my posts #timeless child #my ocs #phoebe oc #paraphernalia oc

[sybaritick]

best of!

I was tagged by @say-lene (who is absolutely one of the best writers in this fandom) to discuss a few pieces of fic that best exemplify my writing/style/personality. So here are my thoughts! :D

4 - At Knifepoint [Astarion/Gale, 2.4k, E]

Astarion's face was cruel and angular in the half-light of the darkened library, stark shadows cast across his features, lips curled into a teasing smile. The Dispel Magic spell rushed over him faster than he could answer it, dark and sour like a sickening wave, and the invisibility curled away from his body like the burnt edge of a newspaper.

I love to play with the contrast between what the rational brain wants and what the stupid horny subby brain wants and this fic absolutely goes in on that. We like a little fearplay and horror and Gale's guilty lust for being eaten. It was for an exchange to go with this incredible artwork!

3 - that urge often miscalled 'free will' [Gortash/Gale, 4.3k, E]

Gale thinks, for an odd second, that he can feel the flow of data pour into his throat and spread through his limbs, an anesthetic tingling in his veins, drowsy and even. He knows it’s nothing of the sort. That was the sort of foolish thing one might have pictured as a child, but data is weightless and instant and empty, and no zeroes and ones fill his veins. Enver watches from his chair, glancing between Gale and the computer while he makes his cryptic little adjustments. He has a leg tucked under him, a thick-soled work boot wedged under the opposite thigh.  Gale feels the fingers of his right hand flex and pull involuntarily, and the hand balls up into a fist that makes his nails bite into his palm for a good second before releasing. “Sorry, I’m not sure–” Gale starts, before looking over at Gortash, who has the hint of a smile curling onto his lips. Enver responds wordlessly, typing something blunt and fast and watching as the fingers of Gale’s other hand flex in turn, one by one. “A bit of manual testing for that faster transmission of reflexes I suggested,” Enver says. “Pardon me for the lack of warning.” Gale feels the swell of fear like an ignoble tightness in his throat that makes it irresponsible to swallow.

Am I bold enough to put a fic I just posted last night in my "best of"? Yes. It was this or Incentives for Compliance and this one exemplifies my issues even more. :) i love writing about the horror of losing control of your own mind and body and this fic is Very Clearly About That. oh and it also has that relentlessly horny pussy description that's important:

He slots in the vulva, running a thumb over the plump hairy outer lips, just ghosting over the inner folds peeking through in soft ripples, across the mons fat and rounded above; a beautiful match to Gale’s form.

2 - oh, rotten little thing [Astarion/Gale, 1.9k, M]

“So you admit it,” Astarion said, pulling his hand back. “Naughty thing. I bet so little power wouldn't be nearly enough to sate it. Perhaps I’m just an appetizer, then. Something to whet its appetite before you hunt down a wizard for your main course." "If you’re so certain it’s developed its own sort of vampirism, I would think you’d be more careful," Gale warned. "And I'm certainly not willing to consume the Weave of a person the way I would an object– if such a thing is even possible." "Oh, I think you would," Astarion answered gleefully. “If it’s you or another? If the alternative is the bomb in your chest leveling the entirety of Baldur’s Gate?”

This is probably my favorite bloodweave fic I've written because it gets to something I enjoy a lot about their personalities-- the way an unhealthy Astarion might take pleasure in luring Gale to be "worse", to dragging Gale down to his own level, and the way Gale has his pride but also a certain practicality and is more willing than he'd like to admit to bend his ethical principles a bit. There's also some great banter in this one which I really enjoy.

1 - Tephra Year [Gortash/Gale, 25k+, E]

and Highharvestide [Gortash/Gale, 3.9k, M]!

In the heat of the moment all he could imagine was that Gortash found this all the more desirable. A nice, fat, pliable mage to bury his cock in and rule the city with. What would they become, if Gortash's plans came to fruition? Gale was not naïve enough to believe his ambitions stopped at becoming Archduke of Baldur's Gate.  He'd be kept neck-deep in vile projects while Enver’s influence swallowed up each little town along the Chionthar. He had no doubt the Black Hand had designs on the rest of the Sword Coast. He'd set his sights on Waterdeep, and perhaps Gale was just another piece of his claim, another spoil of war, a pretty souvenir from the City of Splendors.

this fic is essentially designed to contain most of my favorite topics, tropes, and kinks, from the relatively ordinary (power imbalance, transmasc dom, manipulation, the tension between what you want and what you wish you wanted) to the weirder and more specific (feeding + weight gain as domestication, guilty masturbation over things you are morally opposed to, classism, politics, questions of guilt and responsibility/Whose Fault Is This Really?, transhumanism and evil biotech).

as for throwing in Highharvestide... I would be remiss not to include at least one overtly feedist fic when it's definitely the kink I'm most "known" for (and the one I know some of you are following me for. 😉) I was truly torn between featuring this and catalyst, but I think this one better exemplifies what I am really here for... feeding as a power game, fattening as domestication, how appealing Gale's new softness might be to a partner...

for that reason i have taken a lot of joy in writing Tephra Year + its side story/ies. I think my enthusiasm comes through and makes the piece even better than my usual work :)

---

and I will tag, if they're interested: @tuffgreg, @chronurgy, @archduke-enver-gortash, and @spellmage! :D (hopefully I managed to pick people who haven't been tagged yet, I tried to!)

#cal txt #fandom #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #my writing

[lexiconne]

Dumb Writer Needs Help Writing Disability!!

So, I have this project I've been working on that has come together really nicely here lately. It's on its rewrite phase, and I really want to make sure it's exactly the way I want it to be this time.

However! I am going to be writing about several main characters with physical disabilities, and as I have no personal experience and very little other experience with their disabilities, I'd like to ask those who do for input.

I have already done research! However, it can be just as valuable if not more so to ask the source directly for personal recounts, and I tend to have trouble reading/really comprehending/remembering resources that are worded too stiffly. I have the basic terms down (I think), but I want to know: what's something that irritates you about the disability on a day to day basis? What's something you find comforting about it? Are there any positives you'd like to express? Any little neutral happenings that just go along with it? Think how glasses wearers (me) know that touching the lenses is the WORST thing to do, and rain is a MASSIVE pain in the butt. Just little things that I can perhaps include and make the characters and their experiences seem more authentic.

I currently have:

a Deaf character (can only hear very faint sounds) who has special Magic Fantasy Hearing Aids™ to help magnify existing sound to whatever degree he needs. They do have downsides and are not perfect, and he makes frequent references to being Deaf; they're not a magical way to make him un-disabled when convenient, just a disability aid that would exist in this world in their time period. He's been Deaf since birth.

a character who loses a limb (her leg) and creates her own robotic prosthetic. This has world-specific drawbacks like needing to be oiled, getting too hot or cold, etc. but I would love to include real-world ones too. (I know next to nothing about prosthetics ^.^*)

A character who has her voice sealed away via a curse, making her speech-impaired (mute? Is that offensive?) in that she cannot form words. Sounds can be made, but they cause pain. This one is more heavily tied to the fantasy aspect and while I can make up my own rules for a curse, I'd like to include some real-world similar experiences to make it seem more grounded.

(The first and third one meet and he teaches her sign language!)

Please feel free to mention any aspects you want or point out if I've said something you find odd! Plus, if you have any more resources you want to link like official articles and such, that would be so appreciated. This is a learning post. <3

Thank you for your patience, time, and energy!

_

TLDR: need help from disabled peoples! Please infodump on me!

#disability #disabilities #disability aids #disability in fiction #disability in media #disability in writing #writing #writing help #need help #need advice #help #teach me #physical disability #deaf #deafness #prosthetics #prosthetic leg #prosthetic limbs #speech impairment #hearing aids #disabled characters #disabled oc

[positivelybeastly]

Astonishing X-men Beast, if someone were to ask you what’s the main issue with the X-men/ Professor X philosophy what would you say? Not from anyone else’s experiences just yours and events that have taken place. While I take you as someone very loyal to the dream of Xavier, even though Scott is the poster boy/boy-scout of the team, you’ve surely have diverged at some point. Not completely, but slightly. Maybe. I don’t know.

". . . Have you ever noticed something a little odd about the First Class of X-Men? Charles' handpicked selection of mutants with whom to shock, astonish, charm, and woo the world?"

"Professor Xavier had access to Cerebro, the most advanced mutant locating technology ever devised, working in conjunction with one of the most powerful and well trained minds that's ever graced this Earth. He had his pick of an entire planet's worth of mutants whom he could have chosen to elevate, to show the world, to use to prove to the human race that we were not to be hated and feared.

And he chose five white young Americans with non-threatening powers.

Sometimes I wonder - if I looked back then how I look now, would I have made the cut? Would the Professor have deemed me worthy of being a flag-bearer for his dream? Perhaps. Perhaps not."

"But that is the issue, isn't it? The dream requires infinite patience. It requires infinite understanding. It requires an infinite capacity to be smacked in the face and turn the other cheek. It requires certain qualities. It requires certain people, includes certain people, excludes others, if only by proxy.

It requires a seventeen year old boy to be nearly beaten to death by an angry mob and decide, no, I'll continue to fight for you."

"That's quite a thing to ask of a child. That's quite a thing to ask of anyone, don't you think? There are those who might say that when it comes to survival, the moral high ground merely ends up being the six foot of earth separating you and the top soil. I don't agree, obviously, but. It's not a life for everyone.

Sometimes, I think it's not a life for anyone."

"But, in the end, I do believe. I believe in co-existence. I have a mother and a father who have loved me from the instant they saw me, no matter how unnatural my appendages.

They remind me that, no matter what else happens, there are always humans who make the world better. Humans who will like us, love us, break bread with us, protect us, nurture us. Even though it may seem like all you ever see are the sneering faces calling you a gene-freak, the other kind of person exists, too. It helps, to break the surface and take a deep breath every now and then. Remind yourself what you're fighting for."

". . . The Professor himself has admitted that the dream may well be just a dream. That it needs to change if it's to become reality. It needs to include the physically mutated, the violent, the dispossessed, the unhappy, the unruly, the different. The strange.

The uncanny.

But the problem is that dreamers aren't made. They become. In some ways, maybe we're all just waiting for the new dreamer to come along to tell us what the next big idea should be.

For a time, I wondered if that might be me. But, I don't think it is. I'm excited to meet them, however. Whoever they may be. And when I do, I just hope they recognise that even if their dream is better, the Professor's dream are still the shoulders upon which they stand."

". . . Heady stuff, no?"

I'm also going to copy over my thoughts about a particular scene in Astonishing X-Men that you might find interesting, both in relation to your earlier question about body language, and about Hank and Xavier's dream. I originally posted this analysis on Reddit.

Something I really appreciate about this scene is that it highlights how different Hank and Scott are in their relationship with Xavier.

Perhaps because Scott grew up with an abusive parental figure in Jack Winters and Hank grew up with very loving parents, Scott was able to recognise Charles' toxic behaviour and break away from Xavier - it might also have had something to do with the fact that at least one of Charles' biggest fuck ups had to do with Scott's brother Gabriel? Hard to say. But Hank, who Charles very carefully isolated from his parents by mindwiping them for years of Hank's whole existence, never really managed to break free of him, and it shows here.

Hell, it arguably never went away, even into the Krakoan era - a more interesting version of X-Force would have really dived into the kind of fucked up dynamic they have, where Chuck keeps covering for Beast's moral transgressions for seemingly no reason, because in some respects, he's responsible for them. He gave him the power, he gave him no oversight, but even more pressingly, he wasn't there for him emotionally. He pulled him into this life and didn't prepare him for the toll it would take, how much it would ruin Beast by the time he gets to Krakoa. Beast needed someone to help him there, and no-one did, which is part of why he went on the skids, I think.

But anyway, Whedon does a lot of moments where Hank is present for scenes but doesn't speak, which is important for a character who's well known for not shutting the fuck up. This, the initial cure conversation, the whole conversation about Piotr - Hank clams up. He doesn't feel like he can talk about it. He's off in his own head, his thoughts are his own, he doesn't feel the need to share them.

And here, it's especially important, because this is a big moral violation that Charles has committed in their name. I know it may be hard to remember, but back in the day, Hank had a moral opinion that was worth something, so the fact that he doesn't say anything here speaks volumes about just how much he feels capable of calling out the Professor, i.e. not at all. He craves Xavier's validation, his approval, he feels a kinship with Chuck. So he doesn't criticise him like he should.

It's especially interesting given that this would continue through the Utopia era. Every time Scott distanced himself from Xavier, Hank was there to comfort Charles, and I feel like that's just something he feels like he has to do. He feels like the devoted brother to Scott's more radical, more willing to criticise brother, and if Bendis had any interest in Beast as a character, he would've played on that in All-New X-Men - the fact that Scott killed their toxic father figure, and Beast feels both free of an influence he didn't know was choking him, but outraged that Scott would break their 'family' like that.

I find Beast compelling because of his flaws, and this is an interesting moment when you take all of that into account. I don't even know if that was the intention of this scene, or if Whedon just wanted to give Scott the speech, but it's interesting.

I definitely feel as though Hank agrees with Scott in the scene, for the record, but doesn't feel able to express it. Is that better or worse? Hard to say. The way that Cassaday draws him as he tells the other X-Men that their ride is here, it communicates shame and disappointment - but not just in Xavier. He's ashamed of his fear. He's disappointed in himself, that he didn't feel capable of speaking up.

And the reason that has real weight is because of his original X-Man status - I don't feel inclined to judge Kitty here despite the fact that she's silent as well, because it's a different dynamic. I don't really expect her to, you know? But Hank, I do, and I think he expects that of himself.

I doubt that Scott or the rest of the team judges Hank for staying silent, either - it's not as if he was complicit in Danger's abuse, after all - especially since it doesn't come up in the conversations Hank and Scott have after this. But Hank, I feel, would judge himself.

I also wonder if this might have played into why Hank got so much more vocal and active in opposing Scott's actions on Utopia - because he felt ashamed by his passivity here, and felt obligated not to let that tendency to repeat. But also, on some level, because he felt more like a peer to Scott, and less like a child, compared to Xavier.

In those instances, Hank is often morally correct, but, in some respects, naive and unhelpful, and he recuses himself from making what we might perceive to be the correct decision because of his ethics. I feel that there's a tendency to call him a coward or obstinate because of that - but is it really cowardly to make a moral stand? And, especially given what Hank would do as time went on, would we not have rather he kept making those moral stands, rather than desperately trying anything he thought would work?

I genuinely don't think he opposed Scott because he didn't like him or didn't love him, because I feel like he very clearly did, but because he felt it was the right thing to do for the both of them. In Hank's mind, he's fighting for the X-Men's soul, for Scott's - for his own. Scott, meanwhile, feels like it's all worth it so long as mutantkind makes it through. They're both right. They're both wrong. That's what makes it a worthwhile conflict.

#water-god19 #outofmuffins

[ilynpilled]

do u ever wonder why jaime never told tyrion or cersei about the wildfire plot?

Alright, here’s the thing. A lot of the story will not function if this is known by other people, so I won’t not acknowledge that maybe it is a plot convenience. The caches of wildfire under KG is a Chekhov’s gun leading to something big, we cannot have it removed from there. Jaime’s story relies on the fact that a whole kingdom despises him for his “finest act”, which also falls apart if the context of that act is known, especially with Tyrion dropping it earlier to the reader in his POVs (would be kind of odd if he never mentions this lmao). Not to mention that if certain powerful people are aware of it, it could shift the game entirely. But still, that does not mean that we cannot make sense of it. I just think George neglected to give us an actual concrete explanation (perhaps intentionally). Maybe this is very deliberate and speaks to Jaime’s characterization.

A big factor is that he was a traumatized 17 yo when it happened. This event really messed him up. He represses, dissociates from, and compartmentalizes things. The way he reacts to the act of confessing during the bath scene is further proof of this. His thoughts communicate that he thinks he is so out of it that he can no longer check himself from admitting it to someone, including himself. Like he does not even think about the wildfire plot before the confession, even though we are in his head. Wouldn’t he want to justify it to himself in his own head when he gets judged by Brienne early on? Look at just how the confession even happens, he is completely out of it, his walls fall down, he acts like it is out of his control, it is like a part that was buried for years bubbling to the surface:

Wildfire and its qualities are also not very well understood. Barely anyone is familiar with how it truly works, and how volatile it is, as showcased by Tyrion’s ACoK chapters. I truly do not believe Jaime is aware how much of a threat they are still, and thinks it is the best if they remain ignored, hidden in jars under the city.

This is the most direct way that his silence about it is addressed:

Making “Lannister pride and stubbornness” the main, or only, explanation is something I always found a little vague. Same with his smart-ass response about oaths. It feels like deflection, and Jaime’s pathetic return to his bitter posturing. Especially how this justification of his does not really work for keeping it from Cersei and Tyrion. In fact, it mostly only works with Ned, and then he seems to become consumed by the bitterness of that specific interaction until he hurts himself and faints (loser). Also, I am curious as to how this holds up when Jaime gradually climbs out of his bitterness and cynicism and is making attempts to change his self concept later in the series. If people read Jaime as exclusively more concerned with the way he is perceived than being an actual good person, I feel like dropping this fact post bath confession to remedy his image would have certainly aided in the desire to have a better reputation (or would it be too late? I do not think so. It certainly worked with Brienne). Would anyone believe him? Is there a point? Is it his pride in confict with his desire to be humanized in the eyes of others? I think it is way more complicated. I think it is about hopelessness. I think it is just a general disillusionment with the concept of honor and morality and how it operates within this system. Jaime has no faith in these institutions at that point. We see it in the weirwood dream. He confesses. He tells the truth. Yet he is damned by his heroes all the same. That results in his fire going out, and there is no coming back from that.

Him not telling his loved ones in specific is interesting though. Including his father. Maybe it is the fact that they never judged him for it or they do not care. However, what I do find pretty interesting is that Tyrion and Cersei make use of wildfire as a weapon within the story.

I really read, or believe a big part of, Jaime’s decision to bury the existence of the caches is making them essentially unavailable. He knows that nobody is aware of them, because he went out of his way to kill everyone who was:

Jaime is so deeply traumatized about Aerys, and this whole situation is so monumental in his development, that I think there has to be a deep fear of anyone making use of it again. Including his own family. Therefore, I think he is willing to essentially bury the secret with him, despite its personal consequences. This of course paints him in a pretty moral light, which you can disagree with.

I feel like to justify this reading I also need to address the perspective of “that doesnt make sense bc jaime doesnt care about the innocents he just did it to save his father/self preservation etc”. This might be a reading exclusive to very Jaime critical circles, but there was a GoT (i know. i know. i shouldnt give a shit😭) video essay with views in the hundred thousands that claimed this so it might not be so obscure.

First of all, I dont think that makes sense with how the confession is structured and written at all. Second, idk how that reading would benefit his character writing. We start out with a comically villainous character that is unveiled to be a complex individual. Why must there be another twist on that that subverts this and goes like “no, actually he is that comically villainous individual that would be fine with 500k people being burned alive at age 17”. I am not a fan of the woobification done to him sometimes either, but there comes a point where people feel the need to misconstrue and add twists to scenes that obviously had a specific purpose for the character. What would this scene gain by having the added twist of “oh he EXCLUSIVELY did it to save his father/self preservation”? Genuinely what would such a strong moment of recontextualization gain from this? Jaime was supposed to be all about his immediate family to the ruin of everybody else. The reveal serves the purpose of recontextualizing his character and adding dimensions to it by showing that that is not entirely the case, while also delineating his trajectory thus far, especially regarding his cynicism concerning feudalistic moral constructs. What is the purpose of telling us “actually, he saved KG” only to go “this does not change how you should view his character though, circumstances just perfectly aligned for him so he committed a heroic act.”

On top of that, the logistics of removing wildfire is something insanely complicated. Him telling Ned? Sure, great. But then who else would they need to tell? The point of the wildfire under the city is that it sentences KL to death. There is really no solution. I think metaphorically it is about the culmination of corruption. That place was on a trajectory of doom, and it was never really saved, Robert, its supposed savior, was nothing but stagnation. The city is filled to the brim with corruption. Someone would abuse that power, if it is not set off during attempts at removal. Ntm even the exact locations are not known. You cannot make the caches disappear. The closest thing to it is burying the secret with you, which is what Jaime is doing. Mind you Brienne knows it too now, yet she is not eager to tell anyone either. Neither of them know what a ticking time-bomb it is. But even if they did, I think the point is that you cannot really do anything about it at this point. KL was sentenced to death and it is at a point of no return.

For the rationale of “Jaime never justifies it in such a way in his own thoughts, when he could.” Well he also never justifies him pushing Bran with “I wanted to save the lives of Cersei and our children.” Even though George believes that is the case. Jaime’s denial and posturing is not exclusive to his words, but also his thoughts. This man also deludes himself, not just those around him. He detaches himself from truth constantly to avoid vulnerability. You are hit in the face with this repeatedly in ASoS. He even lies about his motivations for things he does after they happen, which is just hilarious because we are inside his head when he decides to take certain actions and know what he is thinking and know that he is full of shit. So I do not think this contradicts my interpretation.

#ask #jaime lannister #meta #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #this is long sorry #also kind of diverged from ur actual question bc i had to justify my perspective #formatting for this is garbage bc im typing this on my phone amen #my opinions

[ashxketchum]

Pokeshipping- "You're so very tempting..."

Thank you for sending this request so I could write something for each of my ships! I was meaning to update one of my Pokeshipping fics since Idk July or something and somehow couldn't bring myself to do so. This prompt pushed me to write them and I'm able to end the year by updating that fic so that's a huge task of my check list!

This one is set a few months after this fic I wrote for them, but you don't have to necessarily read it since this works as a standalone too.

Thank you once again, for all the requests! Hope you have a great 2024!

Post divider by @/cafekitsune

Prompt: "You're so very tempting..."

Ash didn’t realise that he was shaking his leg until Pikachu jumped onto his knee and chirped irritably at him to stop. Returning his attention back to his surroundings, he shook his head and patted Pikachu’s head softly as an apology, before putting both his knees together and straightening up his back against the staircase on which he was seated. Pikachu, satisfied by accomplishing his task, trotted away as quickly as he had appeared making Ash focus on the party proceeding in full swing around him. It was a bit odd that he was sitting down patiently in a corner and not the main cause for the loud laughs or happy singing that reverberated across his living room, but to his disappointment, no one else seemed to notice this yet. A pout settled on his lips as he watched the scene in front of him and the thought that he could have been out there mingling with everyone else if it wasn’t for the utter defeat he’d faced today crossed his mind.

The defeat had nothing to do with Pokemon, by the way, but it was still a battle, the kind that Ash was not yet well accustomed to. It had only been two months since Misty and him announced to everyone that they were dating and the reaction of their friends and family wasn’t quite what he expected it to be. From his mother to Goh, not one person was surprised with the news and instead, they all treated it like a confirmation of something that they’d already figured out because the two hadn’t done a good job of hiding it. Misty found this funny but Ash was a little hurt because he took pride in how subtle he’d been with the moves he made on her. The only person who was truly in awe of his version of the story was Brock, and well, that was never a good sign when it came to romance. So Ash decided that tonight, at the year end party which would be attended by all their friends and family, he would steal Misty away from the crowd for a moment and show her just how good he was at hiding the details of their relationship from everyone else.

The flaw in his plan?

Misty wasn’t privy to it and was thus enjoying herself a little too much without him.

He didn’t have a problem with her having fun, honestly, she deserved it after all the things they dealt with in Paldea, but he’d spent half the night trying to catch her attention and failing at it miserably. Now, sitting by himself on the staircase that led to the upper floor of his house, Ash was beginning to doubt just how noticeable he was to Misty and if they hadn't run into each other at such an early age, would he still have managed to win her over? Perhaps his thoughts were an exaggeration of the situation at hand, but the interruptions he’d faced all night had broken down his spirit considerably.

The first person to disrupt his plan was his own mother. Granted that at the time his mother took that step, Ash hadn’t even formulated this plan, but he still couldn’t help to put a fraction of the blame on her.

From what Misty shared with them over the years, her sisters were barely ever around for the holiday season, having received invitations to perform at cruises and resorts across regions. Being the only one who actually cared about taking care of the Cerulean Gym, in the past few years, Misty often spent this time of the year alone with only the Pokemon at the Gym to keep her company. With Ash and Misty having announced their relationship, his mother thought it normal to invite Misty to spend both Christmas and New Year’s in Pallet Town, which gave even Ash a reason to take a break from his travels and stay at home for the holidays. Pokemon from the Cerulean Gym were transferred to Oak Laboratory for the week so Misty could check up on them easily and Ash’s Pokemon too could enjoy some new company. With all of this sorted, Ash thought he’d get to have some relaxing time alone with his girlfriend, but when Christmas morning arrived and the gifts were opened, his vacation was turned upside down.

He was sure that the Quaquaval themed necklace and bracelet set he’d gotten for Misty would be the highlight of her morning, but apparently his mother had other plans. She’d knitted family sweaters for all of them, with a Pikachu and Togepi pattern that seemed to be quite the hit with everyone. Ash didn’t have a problem with the sweater per se and he was touched that his mother had made one for not just Pikachu, but Misty’s Psyduck as well. This, however, led to the entire morning turning into a photo op where they all changed into these sweaters and posed for a million photos together. He couldn’t understand at first why Misty was so excited about the sweaters or for clicking so many photos but as the week passed, he started to see things more clearly.

His mom had made Misty feel like she belonged to a family for the first time, and of course, Ash was extremely happy to see her look so happy, but he wished his mother had picked any other time of the year to do so. After Christmas, all Misty did was help out his mom with whatever chore needed to be done, the two went shopping together or did something equally boring that Ash did not want to be a part of. One day, they even took the train to go all the way to Celadon City just to shop at the city’s department store. Each morning Ash would wake up with the determination that today he would take Misty out for a walk in the nearby woods or coax her into having a Pokemon battle, but by the time he was done eating breakfast, his mother and her were already getting prepped to start the day’s activity.

The day of the party rolled around in the blink of an eye leaving Ash with little choice but to end this wild Zangoose chase by whatever means necessary.

But then he came face to face with the second problem.

His mom knew that neither Ash nor Misty were capable enough to cook something for the party, so she put him in charge of setting up the house, moving all the furniture around to make space or hanging the decorations with the help of Mr. Mime. But Misty, who despite knowing she lacked the right skills for it, really wanted to help out in the kitchen and was made in charge of handling the drinks. Ash managed to finish his tasks quicker because he asked more of his Pokemon to help, so when he came across Misty in the kitchen wearing a lab coat and measuring different coloured liquids in glasses, his shoulders slumped. Just like everything else, Misty was treating this like a competition, hoping to come up with a drink that would be praised by everyone at the party.

Looking at the odd colours in her experimental glasses, Ash gulped and slowly edged out of the kitchen before she could ask him to try one of her concoctions. Using his free time to run to the nearest store, he bought extra soda as a backup. As much as he wanted to believe in Misty, given her past record, he thought it was best if there was something to fall back on and her attempts wouldn’t become the laughing stock of the party.

But Ash should’ve known, that in the past week, his instincts had been way off the mark and once again, Misty managed to turn the tide in her favour. Her Pokemon Type themed drinks were a hit at the party and everyone seemed to want more of it. Every time Ash saw an opening to grab Misty and drag her to his secret corner (his room), someone would interrupt by claiming that the Fire Type or whatever punch was out and she’d rush to the kitchen to make a fresh batch, leaving Ash disgruntled and in the dust. What grated his nerves more was that the drinks were actually very delicious and he himself was guilty of draining the Electric Type and Dragon Type flavour containers dry.

The only winning takeaway he’d gotten so far from tonight was that Misty had decided to wear the necklace and bracelet he’d gifted her and every time someone complimented her, her viridian eyes would find him across the room before she smiled and thanked the person for their compliment. This made Ash’s heart race, making him even more impatient to carry out his plan, but the night went on with no opening in sight.

The dejected aura that he was giving off in a corner hadn’t caught Misty’s eye yet, but Ash knew that he had someone in his life that he could rely on no matter the odds. When Pikachu returned to him for a second time, he was expecting to get electric shocked into enjoying the party for what it was worth, but instead, his best friend dropped something in his lap, finally diverting his attention from his sad train of thoughts.

“Pikachu, where did you…?” Ash picked up the small item from his lap as the signs of a real smile appeared on his face.

Pikachu just shrugged in response and pointed his tail towards the kitchen, using his tiny paws to act out that Misty was alone in there right now. Covering the item within his palm, Ash raised his other hand for a high five which Pikachu obliged to happily. Thanking his partner with a quick nod, he left his spot on the stairs and discreetly made his way to the kitchen, hoping that his friends would continue to ignore him as he made his escape.

Relief and excitement washed over him when he entered the kitchen to find Misty bustling about by herself. Taking this chance when she was still distracted, Ash quietly shut the kitchen door behind himself and tiptoed up to Misty so he could envelop his arms around her waist and finally take her by surprise for the first time that night.

“Wha-, oh Ash. It’s you.” Her voice went from bewildered to a happy sigh in a matter of seconds as she leaned into his back and allowed him to rest his chin on her shoulder.

“Glad of you to finally notice,” he said, unable to hold back the sulkiness from his tone.

“You’re such a kid sometimes.” She laughed, raising her hand to his cheek.

“Wow, haven’t heard that insult in a while,” Ash grumbled, tightening his hold around her waist to let her know that he wanted her to fix all her attention on him.

“Well, you’ve been somewhat of a gentleman lately, who would’ve thought huh?”

“Hey, I always had the potential, just needed the right person to bring it out.”

Misty was still for a moment and then suddenly she peeled his hands from around her waist and turned on her heels to face him. Folding her hands across her chest, she raised a suspicious eyebrow at him, “Okay, mister, out with it. What do you want?”

Ash’s jaw dropped open at how quickly she’d figured out that he was trying to butter her up, but given that he’d managed to motivate himself to keep trying, he shook off the setback and grinned sheepishly back at her, “Nothing. Why would you think that?”

“You’re being clingy yet sweet, obviously you need something from me,” Misty stated with a casual shrug.

“Or I’m just being romantic-” Ash moved his hands forward towards her waist again, “because you’re so very tempting in that dress.”

Misty caught both his hands by the arm and stilled them, smirking at him, “Ash, I’m wearing a sweater and a skirt, and you clearly have something going on in your tiny mind so please, out with it.”

Ash wiggled out of her grasp with a pout, running his eyes over her once again and cursing himself for not noticing that despite the sweater and the skirt being the same in colour, they were still separate pieces of fabric. But he still had one more trick up his sleeve, courtesy of Pikachu, clearly the only one in his life who still wanted to see him happy. Fishing into his pocket, he pulled out the item he’d received earlier, dangling it over their heads and returned Misty’s smirk with a smug one of his own.

“Look, Mist, we’re under a mistletoe, you know the rules.”

“Holy Mew, Ash!” She glanced upwards at the worn out Christmas decoration and then looked back at him with more suspicion in her eyes, “Have you been carrying that around the entire night just for this?”

“What? No!” Ash quickly stuttered out a response, feeling his neck turn warm from embarrassment, “Pikachu gave this to me a minute ago, I’m not that crazy.” He emphasised the last bit as normally as he could, but Misty still seemed wary of him. He lowered the mistletoe and shoved it back in his pocket with a sigh, realising that there was no point in trying to hide the truth from her since she could read him like an open book anyway, “Okay, I give up.” Ash raised both his arms as a surrendering gesture and he noticed that Misty’s face softened at this sight. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he rubbed the back of his head as he mumbled out the truth, “I just wanted to surprise you tonight, but it didn’t work in my favour.”

“Surprise me? I don’t understand.”

“I don’t know…” Ash shrugged, avoiding Misty’s piercing gaze by looking at his feet as he felt the warmth of embarrassment travel from his neck to his cheeks, “I guess I miss the thrill of sneaking around without anyone knowing.”

Misty considered his words for a while and oddly Ash welcomed the silence between them. He took that time to console himself for not being able to finish the one task he’d set out to do before the year ended tonight. Despite his failure, he still felt a bit giddy from how quickly Misty had managed to figure out his intentions, she knew him better than anyone else, maybe sometimes even himself. He allowed his gaze to fall on her again and smiled at the sight of her eyebrows knit together and lips twisted sideways as she analysed the situation in her head. Back when they were kids, a conversation like this would always have ended in an argument, but now the two were so much more accommodating of what the other wanted.

“I see. I can’t deny that phase was certainly exciting,” Misty met his gaze and smiled knowingly so Ash knew what her next words would be even before she spoke, “Does this also have something to do with nobody being excited when we made our relationship public?”

“Maybe…”

“Oh, Ash…” She laughed, taking a step forward to cup both his cheeks in her palms, her bright eyes were filled with such pure warmth that Ash found his entire body grow hot under her adoring gaze. She leaned forward and rested her forehead against his, with the tips of their noses brushing against each other, she spoke in a low, whimsical voice that made his heart race at a thundering speed.

“How do you make me fall for you every single time?”

“Wh- wh- what?”

“Listen,” Misty said, lifting her forehead and dropping her hands from his cheek, resting one on his chest and the other on his lips, ignoring his stuttering completely, “They’re about to start the countdown.”

Sure enough, Ash could hear the chattering voices of his friends more clearly since the music had been turned down. But he still didn’t understand what Misty was hinting at with that mischievous glint in her jewel like eyes. Catching onto his obliviousness, she shook her head exasperatedly and grabbed his hand, dragging him along with full force back to the living room where the party crowd had gathered in a circle to welcome the New Year with a chant. Misty squeezed her way right into the centre just as the countdown was about to reach its climax. She looped her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek to his so she could whisper in his ear over the loud noise.

“Let’s make everyone else’s New Year a little more memorable, shall we?”

Ash was still clueless about what she had in mind but the minute the crowd shouted one, Misty didn’t give him any more time to think and pressed her lips against his, not caring at all about the crowd that surrounded them. At first, he was stunned, but when Misty’s fingers slid into his hair, his body moved on instinct and he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer into the kiss. He smiled against her lips when he heard the shouts of surprise surround them but it no longer mattered to him because he knew that he’d won everything the moment Misty had decided to give all her love to him.

Thank you for reading!

#pokeshipping #pokemon #pokeani #pokemon fanfiction #ash x misty #ash ketchum #misty #writealot #answered #this was written today in 3 hours and it's turned out to be the longest of the lot #long live my pokeshipping feels

[suzukipc]

Holding you at gunpoint tell the world a bit about your OCs

wow my first anon ask !!!!

hello hi I will talk a little bit about some of my OCs at the top of my head yes yes

This one is Cake, she's very baby girl !!! I've had her since 2016 and she's soft and warm and also 6'2" tall \o/ She loves to bake and sing and she makes her own little songs that she posts online c: She currently has 2 girlfriends WOH

I made a few videos with Cake before:

kinda FFXIV pilled with her tbh, and it only makes sense because I started with Cake on BnS usdghiua

And then there's this video on my shared channel with NJ:

She has 5 younger brothers and she loves them all so much GRRRR

Though she'd be lying if she said she doesn't feel a little stuck at home sometimes; she yearns to see more of the world :(

This one is Z !!! Short king at 5'3" resident hacker man B) I've had him since 2017 but his backstory changed vastly since When he's not working for an underground society he's an e-sports gamer (DPS main, mind you) He has many partners and I think that's beautiful

He's pretty quiet and likes to focus on himself, but the few people he lets in his inner circle would be lucky to have somebody as loyal as Z on their side c:

His favourite game when he's trynna relax is animal crossing B)

I made a little sticker of him as how he'd appear in animal crossing:

This is Quinn !!! Queen at 5'2" \o/ She balances a lot of odd jobs at the moment, while trying to balance uni and her tattoo artist apprenticeship c:

She has terrible insomnia, and she has a lot of baggage from her upbringing; she's spending time unlearning some harmful self-talk she's had throughout the years due to what she went through with her parents. She's marginally doing better now, but some nights are less manageable than others

She too has many partners IUFHSUIGSUIGSA

this is Tsuki !! He's a tattoo artist and shop owner (I made a little video about him and his dog):

He loves sweets, he works out, he has a big dog!!!! He's mentoring Quinn as a tat artist and they have a close friendship outside of work!

He's kind of estranged with his older brother at the moment but I've been trying to figure out how they could patch things up c:

He currently lives with his cousins!! He works out with his cousin Isamu on the weekends, and does groceries with his cousin Takara every Friday \o/

He's kind of shy but he's working on it!!! It's why he enrolled in dance classes every Sunday :D

This is Kyuuji !! He's Tsuki's older brother, and he's a vet!! I made an old old old animatic about him years ago

This Kyuuji in these videos is a much younger guy c: He used to be my vent OC tbh IOSHIUGSIUG burnt out gifted kid, wants to get away from family to escape expectations and perhaps some responsibility... The works

He's doing a lot better now as an older guy, he loves his job, he loves his partner (not the same person from the Cemetery video, it's someone else B))

Can't forget about one of my OG baby girls, Aura

She got married young, she loves to bake, and she has a little etsy shop selling handmade jewelry :)

She's not a perfect mom, but she loves her babies so so much grrrr grrrrr

She used to be in a band called TAR-GET because uh truth be told she used to be a Patapon OC LMAO

that's all i have in me for now anon

Let me know if these were nice to read :)

#oc posting #my oc stuff #my oc art #doodle #patapon #musings #my ocs #my ocs <3 #ocs #oc art #anon ask

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

I guess it’s a common pattern with John: looks bad on paper, but endearing to actually see and hear him talk.

Two main things endeared me to John: first watching Get Back and finding him weirdly cute and lovable. I think in still images especially his face came across very cold and mean but his body language when more relaxed came across friendly and warm. Also, he seemed sensitive to the needs of other members and when he wasn’t so out of it, seemed to make an effort to ease their stress. I saw his empathetic side.

And then reading his interviews and finding him a lot more self aware of his flaws and perceptive than I expected. I remember specifically reading about that 1980 answer about regretting past violence and addressing how it was odds with his desire for peace, and that melting a lot of the antipathy I’d had against him. Also things like finding that the physical abuse seemed more to be a few isolated incidents mainly when he was a teen - not that it’s excusable at all, but it was very different to the image I had.

Also, I personally don’t really see John as more responsible than Paul for the breakup (though his behavior post breakup esp around 1971 was definitely worse). But it’s very hard to judge anyway as we only really know their public behavior and unreliable gossip.

That's fair enough re:the breakup (we could get into it more but then we'd be here all day lol)

That makes sense to me. I really hate that one Andy Warhol black and white pic of John, with the glasses. It's overused and he just looks so mean and unapproachable on it – and entirely unlike himself, in general.

Also this is like the best picture ever taken of him (not that you asked):

There is something pretty paradoxical about the fact that one of the chief reasons John is now the paragon of any and all spousal abuse is the fact he actually talked about it himself (and perhaps even exaggerated the extent of his actions – but the sources on that disagree a lot IMO). And the other big reason is the way his estate propped him up as a symbol for peace, practically begging for backlash that might tear him off that pedestal.

His legacy is so strange the more you think about it.

#ask #anon #jl estate #john #meta

[pb-dot]

WIP Wednesday Thursday Edition: Tomasz Gildebrant

Time is an iffy substance to work with at times, especially when you're experiencing the first writer's block you've had in years. I'm charting this one up to my explosive pace in November and perhaps some slight anxiety about writing one scene in particular but enough about that, time to talk about another important piece of His Impossible Brushstrokes. Today, we're talking about Tomasz Gildebrant, the man at the center of it all. Is he a spider in his web, a damsel in a dungeon, or something else entirely?

Tomasz was the first part of His Impossible Brushstrokes that I came up with. The idea came in the form of an image prompt of a handsome-looking man with a paintbrush and some splotches of multicolored paint. Several of the ideas of this book spawned from that image, and it has made Tomasz the most described character in the book as far as physical descriptions go. His inner life remains somewhat more of a mystery, and that is mostly by design.

Tomasz is, put simply, designed to be a mystery. He's a reclusive artist and all, but once our unlucky protagonist manages to arrange a meeting with him he does seem open and friendly, although there's no shortage of odd mannerisms or the sense that there are further circles to his mystery that even talking to the man doesn't really reveal.

This mystery is simultaneously my favorite and least favorite part of writing this man. On one hand, the ongoing secretkeeping through lies of omission and the odd deception and descent into arcana is very fun to work with. On the other hand, it's very difficult to talk about the guy.

I think I can say as much that I'm having a grand time with playing in to the various roles Tomasz could be argued to hold in the story. In the end, I think it'll be a bit uncharitable, or alternatively entirely too charitable, to describe him as a monster, a villain, an addict, a victim, a weirdo, a cultist or a sage.

So, how is it working out for me? Well, it's easy to write a main character who is at the same time mystified, scared of, and attracted to this man, I'll say as much, but I do worry at times that I'm making the fellow too cryptic to get attached to. It'll be a pretty impressive sleight of hand if I land it I though.

In closing I'd like to share a song I associate with the fellow. Constellation Of Tears by Cain's Offering is probably the closest match to his vibe and particular blend of artistic angst and energy that one would get from the fellow. If you could imagine a cover of Orville Peck's Daytona Sand played in the style of Romanian folk music with some occasional electronic elements and sung with a slight polish accent, you'd also get something pretty close to his personal theme song.

Tag List:

@teacupsandstarlight @jeahreading @frostedlemonwriter

If you want to be on the taglist for His Impossible Brushstrokes, please check out my tag list post

#his impossible brushstrokes #writing #writeblr #WIP wednesday

[reotacchii]

( • ̀ω•́ ) : Jiro x F!Reader | After School Distraction

Pairing : Jiro Yamada x F!Reader

Genre : Fluff, Fanfics, (to be fair, I can't tell if is a oneshot or a scenario)

Synopsis : A studious girl from a wealthy and privileged family, escaping the education regimen she faces at home which lead her to a bond with a certain boy through an arcade game.

Author Note : I definitely were inspired by an anime called Hi-Score Girl, please any fans of this series do interact 💗. And due to how long this post is, I might make a second part for this- 😭💕

“ Because, to me, it was a small revolution. An after school distraction... Through after school destruction. ” — Houkago Di(e)stra(u)ction

₍ᐢᵕ ༝ ᵕᐢ₎ Jiro’s POV : ⌟

An after school activities, huh? That's quite an odd question especially for someone as active like him! Playing and train his soccer skill for his club is a daily routine at this point, oh lord should know that his life are dependable on his soccer skill by now (partially true if we excluding his brother).

Though he may followed his brother path as a delinquent, he appeared to be very likable and infact the most popular guy at school! His life couldn't be possibly more better than this, right?

" Nice game today, Jiro-kun! See ya tomorrow and let's put our best to the match this month, ay? " his fellow club said.

" Ya got it, mate! Then, see you by tomorrow too, " Jiro exclaimed with his hand wave a goodbye toward his friend leaving. Certainly, he need to catch a breath first before he went back home. Man, he really puts a lot of effort and work on today training.

The sun's was on top of his head, but now it lowered down without him noticing during his practice — giving off a tropical drinks mood. It yellowy and orange-y gradation mixed up onto each other turned into a new set of sky colors. Perhaps, this is the time people refers as an afternoon.

Walking passes through the IKB streets, as his eyes darted to any directions to find things that interest him. A couple shops also turned on their lights which made their shops appear more enticing to be visit on. The lights itself began to decorate the whole street and it looked pretty altogether.

But one place will always be the most tempting. None other than the arcade that peak his interest the most. His love for video games are surely unrivaled, but the mechanism of arcades are pretty much authentic to express each individual gaming skills!

And a certain odd thing occurs on place, it never been this crowdy before. Especially when people began to surrounding one specific arcade games, as if their whole attention is pointed to one subject.

" Man, this one a hotshot!" "It's unbelieavable, what a beast!" "This chick on a roll! It's their 18th wins and no defeats!" the whole crowd basically cheering for the one behind the arcade game.

" Heh- now this is interesting, " Jiro thought to himself. He figuring out, he could try to give it a shot on attempting to defeat this enemy behind the arcade. As soon as the other person got defeated, he'll fill up the next slot with his coin and there goes popped up a 'A Challenger Appears' on screen.

₍ᐢ. ֑ .ᐢ₎ Y/N POV : ⌟

Quite surprising. Another win for you which remarked as your 19th wins streak on this game. You swear to yourself, it's been like 3 hours ever since you are in this game — possibly more. First hour to defeat the main boss of this game, second and third clock spent on defeating some different challengers on screen. It seemed you began to receive some respect amongst the gamer community with how skilled you are in fighting game.

To be fair, arcade is the only place you go to waste your time instead of studying with your tutor at home. If you could take any lessons in this world, you would prefer to memorizing movement sets instead of memorizing some lessons that might not be used again in daily lives.

Well, quite a hassle to be born on wealthy family. Especially if you are selected to be their next heir, you would felt more obligated to be the family pride.

'New Challenger Appears' would soon popped up on your screen, leaving you to do nothing but to defeat whoever your enemies is. Ever since you are on your 19th streak, you can't help but to feel pride and victorious even a bigger expectations that you might get a 20th wins streak!

"Hey, isn't that MC M. B. the one from Buster Bros?" "Wait, you are right... Can he defeat her?" "Nahh, that girl is a beast!" "Let's bet then! (definitely this npc not a Dice's kinnie)"

Those whispers would soon send you into a wave of curiousity. There's no way you'll be competing against the one of the IKB best rapper on this game... Or can you?

Though speaking of MC M. B., you believe that this person named Jiro Yamada. In which, you happened to know a couple things about him through your friend at school and the most shocking part is that he also happened to be your... Well, classmate. You just haven't got the chance to talks or get to know about him, and to be fair — you barely spoke at school or to anyone there.

₍ᐢ• ̀ω•́ ᐢ₎ Author POV : ⌟

As the curiousity taking over yourself, you proceed to take a little peek of your opponent behind the screen. In which, Jiro himself also seemed to be curious of his own opponent which caused both of you to stare at each other.

A hint of surprised and shock face drawn onto Jiro face, knowing the exact fact that the opponent he would face with is a girl. He swear to himself, isn't that y/n? He haven't heard so much of her, despite knowing the fact that she's her classmate, but for God sake he knows that y/n is a straight A's student and also very wealthy. Truly, a polar opposite of him. And what most importantly is that, what y/n doing in this arcade? Though a studious girl as her would stay at home and go study, but no — she literally here in the arcade to play games for the following 19th match!

But soon, his utter shock face would turn into a smile against his opponent while you only able to give a normal face at him (people may refer it as a bored expression which half true, because that's the face you gave to people dailies).

₍ᐢ. ֑ .ᐢ₎ Y/N POV : ⌟

Choosing your fighter, you definitely always refer to the speed-type character. It gives you a lot of movement as they move faster than the other and other than that, is the only character you happen to mastered the movement sets. The screen also showed Jiro pick a leg-based character, which potentially give him an advantage to hit more damage by clicking on kick button. As soon both of you choose the fighter, the game's started.

Alright, quick analysis time. Jiro fighter will definitely hit more damage to your character if they uses their leg, however they lacks of speed like your character does. So one of the options to do is to uses their disadvantages to your own. Within a couple of frames, your fighter would rush onto their opponent which Jiro would anticipated with a block. You'll predict that Jiro fighter would be followed with a kick after the block, which you'll reply with either a jump or sending a flying kick.

Well in this case, you won't do any of these. According to your plan, soon after Jiro released a high kick, you'll make your fighter evade the kick by lowering down their body then released a low kick to Jiro fighter feet. It's a simple move, yet very effective to make your opponent fell on the ground which give you a couple of seconds to set another plan.

Jiro won't take that first hit defeat easily, his fighter would soon rise up and Jiro rush onto his opponent to hit you. Which you were thought it might be another unmeaningful punch from his fighter, but instead your fighter getting beaten with a special moves —which made your fighter being sent off flying. And ofcourse, draining your HP bar quite a lot more than your first hit. You should admit, his hand is so agile. You could hear how he move his joystick and his fast movement on clicking the button. This will be... An interesting match.

The match would held for a moment, the viewer also began to cheer up for their favorite as holding onto their nervous feeling. A couple of special movement we're being relesed by both fighters. Even you and Jiro starts to sweat at how tough the match gonna be while the HP bar drained slowly but surely. Now, each other HP bar reached at their limit and one meaningful hits would end it once and for all . . .

Both of the fighters would stay quiet, making the crowd a bit confused of what they are doing. But you and Jiro felt like has a quick connection where you both knows that you both gonna end it with a special moves. As you began to click on the button quickly to set a movement, Jiro would also does the same too. This one last movement would set the true winner of this match.

Much to your clumsiness, you forgot to move on the joystick, making all of your hits misses as Jiro fighter began to knocking out your fighter. Leaving a screen of Jiro fighter exclaiming their winning quotes as you felt so... Angry and bitter.

You haven't lost not even once, why does losing feel like a hassle? Even it torns up your ego. It's just a game, unlike the real life... But it truly crush your pride for your defeat. Ever since then, you despise losing and hates the feeling of it.

"Well, it seems I broke your winning streak today, L/N-san! It was a good match tho, you are an awesome player," Jiro said as he pack up his things. It would be mean he's about to leave this place. And without you realizing, you unconciously standing with your hand formed a fist. The crowd began to worry if you going to start a fight with Jiro.

"YA-MA-DA." you said in a grumpy voice, oh clearly you are mad by one losing. Even if you can't speak up a lot about your thoughts, Jiro could take a hint from your angry expression. To be honest, Jiro never see your other faces out of the usual one. Finding you express a lot of emotions, it surely make his gaze softens a bit. In other words, his perspective on you changed a little — maybe you aren't exactly emotionless and a nerd like other said. And... He does find it slightly cute?

While in the other hand, you really want to tell Jiro that you want a rematch. You have this urges to defeat someone stronger and skilled than you, to bring back your pride! But... Your lacks of social skill would only let you closed your mouth, being not able to say anything. Only your expressions can tell.

"Ermm... L/N-san, isn't it? If you want to have a rematch, how about you wait for me until I finish my soccer match tomorrow? It's pretty late and i'm sure we both should go home," Jiro suggested. Well, you thought it was a good suggestion. You have another chance to have a rematch with him! Soon, you'll reply to his suggestion by nodding profusively.

"Then, it settled for both of us! Let's meet again tomorrow," Jiro exclaimed with a smile as his hand waved a goodbye. His genuine kindness would soon affect you, made you felt less angry as you replied with a little bow to him. Maybe, tomorrow will be a good day afterall.

PART TWO IS OUT !

#fanfic #hypmic #hypmic x reader #jiro yamada #jiro yamada x reader #hypmic imagines #🍰reo do write