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dixons-sunshine · 26 days

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Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU Headcannons: Part Three | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Word count: 861.

A/n: So I've made it a habit recently to post a fic every one-two days, but I was extremely busy today, so I didn't have time to start working on any of my other requests. I still wanted to post something, though, so here's a part three to my personal headcannons for the SSHD AU that nobody asked for. This is mostly set in the future but before the outbreak. I hope y'all like these! If you wanna see more, let me know.

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★ After graduating high school, you went to college to get a degree in teaching.

★ Daryl didn't go to college, however. He felt like more school was unnecessary for him, but he encouraged you to do it since he knew you wanted to become a teacher.

★ Daryl managed to land a job as an apprentice of sorts to a mechanic and got a second job as a bouncer after a while, and used some (most of it but he didn't tell you that) of the money to help pay for your tuition and textbooks.

★ You had your suspicions about it, and got a job of your own to help pay for everything. However, Daryl shot down any talks of you getting a second job, claiming that one job was already hard enough added on top of college.

★ The two of you rented a crappy, worn down apartment until you graduated and landed a full-time teaching job at a kindergarten near Atlanta, and you and Daryl finally managed to upgrade to a decent apartment.

★ Once the two of you had settled down and had gotten hitched at the courthouse, you invited your mother over for a housewarming of sorts.

★ She definitely tore into you both for eloping, but in the end, she was ultimately happy for the two of you.

★ She started teasingly calling you Mrs Dixon at every opportunity, and playfully threatening Daryl that if he ever broke your heart, she'd kill him.

★ She was a decade too late for that talk, however, so Daryl paid it no mind whatsoever.

★ Your mom was practically your best friend, so when she died three years later due to cancer, you were devastated.

★ You regretted not having a proper wedding like your mom had wanted you to have, but Daryl assured you that she didn't hate you for it.

★ Daryl was also heartbroken. He couldn't believe that the sweet woman who had basically taken him in was dead.

★ It was a hard couple of months after that, but Daryl refrained from falling into old habits and distancing himself to deal with his emotions alone. He reminded himself that you were a team and that you needed him more than ever at that moment. He couldn't pull away at a time like that.

★ Things got better with time. With the both of you taking the time to properly grieve and mourn, it got easier. The sadness when you thought of her death never fully vanquished, but with time, you were feeling better, visiting her grave whenever you had the chance.

★ When you and Daryl moved from the trailer park all those years ago, he didn't tell anyone from his family where he was going.

★ He didn't even tell his father. He just packed his bags with his things and silently disappeared from the trailer.

★ Merle didn't know about it, either. Daryl loved his brother but he knew what a dick he was and what he involved himself in, and he didn't want that in his new life with you. He wanted to start fresh, wipe the slate clean.

★ It was a couple of months before the outbreak when you and Daryl saw Merle again. You were walking around, doing grocery shopping, when you bumped into him.

★ Merle was immensely surprised when he noted the wedding rings on both of your fingers, and demanded to know why he wasn't invited to the wedding.

★ However, he guessed he shouldn't have been surprised when Daryl bitterly spat out that there wasn't a wedding and that you eloped. If he knew anything about Daryl, it's that he doesn't do big, fancy events.

★ About a month before the outbreak, you started feeling nauseous and more tired than usual. A total of three pregnancy tests confirmed that the reason for that wasn't because you were ill, but because you had a life growing inside of you.

★ Daryl was surprised to find out you were pregnant. Neither of you planned the pregnancy and it was extremely unexpected.

★ However, you both decided to keep the baby.

★ Daryl was scared of what parenthood had in store for him. He didn't want to end up like his father or be even worse than him.

★ It took for you to gently talk him through his fears for him to start calming down.

★ After he was calmed down, he allowed himself to feel happy. The two of you were in a stable environment with enough money between the both of you to accommodate a baby, so he felt himself relax.

★ That didn't last long, because soon the two of you would hear about the dead rising and see the news reports that warn you to evacuate immediately.

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bird-inacage · 1 month

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The Heart Killers Trailer: Initial Observations (FirstKhao Edition)

I'd like to thank Jesus, Buddha, Santa, Thor, whatever holy BL spirits reside above, and all hail our lord and saviour P'Jojo. This exceeded my expectations of what was coming and then some. So here are my initial takeaways from the trailer that blew my head clean off.

General premise goes: By night, Fadel and Bison are assassins for hire, but they only kill who they deem are the 'bad guys' (most likely corrupt politicians, sketchy businessmen and the like). By day they run a seemingly ordinary restaurant. A cop asks tattoo artist Kant for his help is getting these two caught. He agrees on the basis that this will clear his criminal record. In order to keep Fadel distracted from his advances on Bison, Kant convinces his mechanic friend Style to woo him. I expect to see cat-and-mouse, games of deception type plot here which should be really good fun.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS: BISON

Aside from the fact that Bison kills for a living, he actually seems like a sweetheart. He comes across as the more jovial, friendly and optimistic of the two brothers. He has no hesitation in offering to make special accommodations for Kant's dietary preferences. He seems to fondly prod his brother to open up to people, and to allow 'sunshine' into his life.

Fadel says, "Because I'm selective, not easy like you". "In this line of work, don't trust people too easily", a signposted concern that his little brother may struggle on this front. Seems to make a point of warning him to use his head rather than his heart.

Bison also tells Kant that his trust once lost means the person is question may as well be dead to him. If he does tend to trust easily, any betrayal would be understandably much more hurtful in his eyes.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS: KANT

Kant's ulterior motive is what brings him to Bison in the first place. The two supposedly have a one night stand, which leads to Kant falling in love with him. Whilst both parties are hiding who they really are, and what they're really up to, Kant appears increasingly guilty and conflicted by this. "What if I'm not who you think I am. Would you hate me then?" But on the other hand his feelings of guilt go hand in hand with the knowledge that Bison's capture or downfall would be his ticket to get what he wants. A decision that has him trapped. He seems to question whether he should trust Bison and whether that will come back to bite him. "My brother always says, don't trust anyone too easily. Otherwise, you end up being the victim."

It also speaks volumes that a cop would approach Kant with this proposition. It means Kant is clearly very competent at what he does, and has side-hustled as a vigilante before. So Kant must be pretty cunning or smart. For example he appears to knock his knife off the table in the restaurant to test Bison's reflexes.

RELATIONSHIP DYNAMIC

There's definitely a connecting theme of secrecy. Their intimacy is kept in secret due to Bison claiming his brother will kill them both if he finds out. Bison is keeping his murderous activities a secret (for obvious reasons). Kant is keeping his investigative activities a secret.

We can obviously expect this to all come to a head when the truth is revealed and identities are fully out in the open. Can Kant accept Bison for what he does and his lifestyle, potentially forgoing the possibility of clearing his record, in order to protect him? Can Bison forgive Kant for hiding his true motives, and trust him again - at the risk of both himself and his brother?

There will be a clear point of convergence between these two, when Bison starts to consider changing his life, if it means staying in Kant's. This echoes how Kant wants to clear his criminal record, perhaps in an attempt to wipe his slate clean so he can finally move on from whatever life he led before. There's a shared vision of moving away from the lifestyles that are bad for us.

OTHER OBSERVATIONS

STYLE / AESTHETICS: One thing P'Jojo knows how to do so well is create a distinct sense of style and atmosphere. This man is a pro at combining the right set design, styling, music and ambience to create a really identifiable flavour that is instantly recognisable. The music in this trailer is a friggin' BOP.

THE EFFING TATTOOS: I will say this till the end of time, but First as Yok was one of my favourite things ever. And seeing First with tattoos again just made me weak in the knees in all the best ways possible.

LEATHER GALORE: Khaotung in leather jackets. That's it. That's my observation. And I was staring. Very appreciatively may I add.

Also, the fact that Khao, who looks noticeably dinky next to the hulking giants of this cast is called Bison. BISON.

#the heart killers #the heart killers the series #first kanaphan #khaotung thanawat #kant x bison #bison x kant #khaofirst #firstkhao #how many times have i watched the trailer? YES

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mythicalwatch101 · 10 months

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reading through the main story again and man now i have some thoughts™ about Dante & their characterization

in canto 3 when they were talking to Vergilius near the beginning, he referred to pre-clock Dante as a “bigwig”. and when they were being attacked in the prologue, lion said something about not getting a second chance to kill someone of this caliber. so. it’s obvious they used to be someone important

they were probably mean!! an asshole!!! i wouldn’t be surprised, with what Faust said in canto 4 about wondering how they would react once they had their memories back, after they told the sinners to suppress the brazen bull

also these lines, when they were talking to Lion, Wolf, and Panther in the prologue:

“You dare… interrupt me just as I was engraving the ■■■■■■… You must be out of your…”

“Kngh… Just wait ‘til I get the ■■■■■■… You’ll be no match for my…”

makes them sound kind of full of themselves. VERY confident in whatever plan is being enacted here. they’re hot shit and they know it

this city is Fucked Up and i’m sure, regardless of what kind of position Dante had before, they had to climb over a few shoulders to get there

and then post-clock Dante. complete blank slate. they don’t know shit about fuck. the “nurture” of their personality has been wiped clean, free of the city’s influence, all that’s left is the “nature”, who Dante is at their core

and they’re NICE

at the end of canto 3, everyone is dead, Dante themselves is dying, and what they decide to do in what could’ve been their last moments is to comfort Sinclair, to tell him that even if everything that happened was his fault, he shouldn’t beat himself up about it

and then in canto 4 when the sinners are talking about how convenient the healing ampules are, they mention that Dante only heals them after they’ve died. “scared of a little hurting”, as Ryoshu put it. and then when Ishmael gets hit by that decay ampule they’re, understandably, worried about her. everyone standing around talking about how fucked up it all is and they’re the only one who really gives a shit about Ishmael melting to death

Outis is like “Ah, apologies for my negligence, Executive Manager. I failed to consider the suffering you must endure when you turn the clock” and then Dante is like. that’s not what i’m talking about. and the moment Ishmael shows fear they immediately rewind the clock to heal her even though no one’s died yet

anyway. all that to say—i love you, dante. i love you, choosing to be kind. i love you, inherent kindness of human beings

#limbus company #project moon #myth posts #posting this and then running away like a startled rabbit #i don't usually do character analysis or whatever and less often do i post it somewhere public 🙈

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galedekarios · 5 months

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that interview is driving me insane i've been thinking about it for the past hour and i still can't wrap my head around it. i think what really gets under my skin is it just... contradicts with the text of the game. the most positive possible reading of the ending where gale blows himself up is that it was an unavoidable tragedy dictated by fate but even that's a stretch. to say it's a good ending?? or a satisfying conclusion to his arc?? i call bull. it's more infuriating because there is such a clear good ending for gale's character arc and it's the professor ending! his arc was about learning to accept himself as he was, to value who he is as he is flaws and all, and he's done that in the professor ending! and the god of ambition ending is a bad end for him but still ties into his overall arc in a satisfying if sad way (imo). the ending where he dies just... doesn't. which is fine as a tragedy but to imply it isn't exactly that, a tragedy, is wild to me. and it being so blatantly contradictory to the actual events of the game makes me think that whole thing was just catering to people who hate gale which like... why? people who don't like him don't care about his story so why pander to them like this?

uhg. i am sorry for blowing up your inbox like this i just feel like i'm gonna rip my hair out and need to express that to a fellow gale appreciator. i love gale's epilogue SO MUCH it made me feel for a bit like maybe the writers had actually changed how they felt about him but. nope! silly of me to hope for that. wish i could memory wipe that whole interview from my brain dark urge style.

don't be sorry at all! 🖤 i feel the same way in a lot of ways. altho i feel the need to mention that gale's writer, jan van dosselaer, was not involved in this interview.

i started to make a meta post about this yesterday, but reading things like this from gale:

act ii [after elminster] Player: An old man with a craving for cheese. Hardly the great wizard of legend. Gale: A wizard doesn't reach Elminster's age without enjoying their home comforts. Those who seek danger over cheese don't tend to live as long. Gale: For Mystra to have sent him... The severity of her bidding could not be clearer. Or weigh more heavily on me. devnote: reflecting on mystra sending elminster, of all people - a powerful individual, becoming reflective. Gale: Time seems so infinite when you are young... a month is an age, a year is a lifetime... it is a strange feeling, to realise how little of it one might have left. Player: You're seriously considering doing what Elminster said? Gale: Of course - he offered the clearest solution to our problem. All I have to do is find the right place and time, close my eyes, and let go... devnote: Trying to sound upbeat, not fully engaging with what he's saying (that he's going to kill himself). Gale: Then the slate will be clean, wrongs will be righted, the Absolute will be gone... devnote: Trying to sound upbeat, not fully engaging with what he's saying (that he's going to kill himself). Gale: ...and I along with it. devnote: Still trying to sound upbeat, though this time the reality that this means he will die weighs a bit heavier

and:

act ii [act ii romance scene] Gale: I am terrified - I will not claim otherwise. My face could scarcely conceal it even if my words sought to deny it. nodecontext: Hushed, vulnerable Gale: There is no point in running from the inevitable. Better to meet it, on my own terms. nodecontext: Resigned

as well as this:

act ii [act ii friendship version] Gale: Yes... but there is so much to live for, and so few moments in which to house it all. Gale: Damn you. Damn you for giving me so much to care about. Our friends, our adventures... this would have been so much easier if it was just me. But it isn't. Gale: If there is a way - any way - to save all that's grown dear to me, I want to seize it. I just cannot fathom what that might be, other than to fail Mystra and condemn the world. Gale: Stay with me, will you? I don't want to think of it any more, but I don't want to be alone either.

act iii [before the netherbrain] Player: Gale... I think we should consider using the orb as Mystra intended. To blow up the Netherbrain. Gale: I'm getting rather tired of how often those I care about seem to reach the same conclusion.

when you have this:

and i just... couldn't finish the meta.

it's absolutely beyond comprehension for me how anyone could try to frame this as an ending that is the right one in "many ways", as the "guy who starts off annoying everyone", eating your "most priced possessions", having to "give back to the world".

for the founder of the company to say he wasn't "ready" the "first time", but he's finally "ready" now.

gale's death isn't only unnecessary, an instruction given to him by his former mentor on the behalf of a goddess, who would've sacrificed not only him but thousands of others to achieve her own goals, he doesn't want to die. he's terrified. he wants to live. he is offering this because he believes that his time has run out. because he wants his death to have purpose if it must happen. because he feels he made a mistake far bigger than he can ever make up for. because he doesn't want others to waste their chance at life like he feels he has. the will he leaves behind in the epilogue if he sacrifices himself isn't finished because he thought there would be more time. i could go on and on.

and again, the question is too... for what exactly does he need to "give back to the world"?

being perceived as annoying after coming out of what is presented as isolation and depression? asking for help with a now chronic impairment that feeds on his very soul and wreaks havoc on his body? for making a mistake? by that logic every companion deserves the same fate.

which brings me to the contrast to how most of the other companions are framed in this interview: k*rlach, "the labrador of the party". l*e'zel, "she's so young". ast*rion, "much of what he does it out of fear". sh*dowheart, "the jason bourne" and "victim of religous trauma". w*ll, "the true baldur's gate hero".

the difference is staggering. there's empathy here. there's at least a surface level understanding and/or appreciation of the characters there.

...and then you have gale.

it's alienating and disappointing to see devs have so little respect and care for their own character, as well as for the parts of their fandom who have grown attached to the character exactly for the strengths and flaws he has, for the struggles he faces and for the healing journey he can have if he is helped and lives.

#my opinion on larian has already changed to the negative for the way they've lied prior release re: what is actually in the game #as well as the amount of bugs and issues that other companies would be dragged through the mud for #as well as the extreme bias showing itself in the scene disparity of their characters #but this was really the final nail in the coffin for me #i also think that it would have been so easy to find a more diplomatic answer instead of choosing reddit talking points but that's just me #ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #text: personal #text: asks #bg3 critical #larian critical #suicidal ideation cw #depression cw

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illegally-downloaded-skeleton · 21 days

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Something I love about the MGR:R antagonists is that all of them have their own reasons as to why they’re working for/with Desperado.

Monsoon was a survivor of the Cambodian genocide who watched many people he cared about be killed and as a result he adopted nihilistic beliefs and turned to a life of crime before he later joined Desperado because he felt it was safer to be in a PMC

Mistral watched he parents die in the Algerian civil war and went to get revenge. After she killed the people who murdered her parents she realized that she was quite gifted at killing and fled the country to join the French Foreign Legion. She grew to envy the people she killed as they had a cause to fight and die for while she was just doing because it was her job until she met Armstrong and she adopted his beliefs: he gave her purpose.

Armstrong wanted to wipe the slate clean and make a stronger America: he believed that the weak should be purged and anybody should be able to do anything they want as long as they are capable. He wanted a nation of action and personal strength rather than one of laws, justice, and equality so he tried starting a war to create his ideal America.

Sam was a warrior who sought to take down Desperado, but when he was facing off against Armstrong he lost and had to choose between being killed or joining them. Eventually he grew to hate himself and forgot why he was fighting, but continued anyways likely in hopes that he would die.

And then there’s Sundowner who just really likes war and killing people

#metal gear #metal gear rising #metal gear rising revengeance #mgr #mgrr #mgr mistral #mgr monsoon #mgr sundowner #mgr sam #mgr jetstream sam

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strangethings-everywhere · 1 year

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Before You Go // Ethan Landry // Ch.1

Masterlist Word Count: 1214 Warnings: swearing, trauma Author's note: welcome to my new hyperfixation, I love me some Jack Champion

After moving to New York with your friends after the Woodsboro killings, you try to leave all of it behind you and start over. You become friends with Ethan Landry, but after Ghostface returns, you start to become suspicious of everyone, especially him.

New York City was different from Woodsboro in many ways, but you enjoyed that there seemed to be people everywhere you looked. After the most recent Ghostface attacks back home, you had issues being alone. Whenever it got too quiet, you glanced over your shoulder and jumped at little noises.

Another good thing was that no one knew who you were. Sam and Tara were notorious, especially due to the rumors that had been circulating online. Mindy and Chad were notable, being both victims and having a legacy character for an uncle. You, however? No one knew your name. New York was a fresh start, a place to wipe the slate clean and move on from Woodsboro’s notorious reputation.

You were majoring in film alongside Mindy, the two of you having bonded over movies since elementary school. Chad always made fun of you for how passionate you were about films, but it didn’t bother you. You had a passion and you knew that you were meant to do something with it.

It was close to Halloween and you had followed Tara to a frat party. She was a pirate and you were dressed as Daenerys Targaryen. The house was full of people and they were all in costume, including two boys dressed as Ghostface. Tara, however, didn’t seem to notice.

“Hey, guys!” Mindy waved from one of the couches. She was draped over Anika, her girlfriend, who also gave you a friendly wave. You grinned and plopped yourself on the arm of the couch. “All hail Khaleesi, look at you!”

“Thanks.” You gave her a little bow. “Where’s Chad?”

“Over with Ethan, being a fool as usual.” She pointed across the room.

Chad was dressed as a shirtless cowboy (no surprise) and grinning like a maniac at Ethan, who had made knight armor out of cardboard and looked like he wanted to crawl into the carpet. Ethan spotted you first and gave you a dorky half-wave.

You weren’t quite sure how Chad and Ethan got matched up as roommates, especially since they were so different. Chad was pretty outgoing, living up to his name. Ethan was pretty shy and very awkward. It had been six months since you had moved to New York and three months since the beginning of the semester and you still didn’t know very much about Ethan.

You walked over to the two boys and Chad wrapped you up in a hug. “Dude, your cowboy sweat is repulsive.” You shouted, shoving him away. “Get your muscles away from me.”

“Fuck off.” He laughed. “You need a drink, I’ll grab you one.”

As Chad made his way to the kitchen, you turned your attention to Ethan. “How are you?”

“I’m okay,” he took a sip of his drink, “I’m still not sure how I feel about parties just yet, they’re so loud.”

You laughed. “Not a fan of loud places?”

Ethan shrugged. “Just not used to it I guess. What about you, Y/N?”

“I didn’t go to many parties in Woodsboro.” You gave him a small smile. “The one I did go to ended up landing me in the hospital, so…”

Ethan’s face went red. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up.”

“It’s fine.” You gave him a small pat on the shoulder. “How long did it take you to make your costume?”

Ethan launched into a very detailed description, but you stopped paying attention. He had an infectious joy that made you wish you feel as happy as he looked. There was something about his smile that just pulled you in and made you feel all warm inside. You wanted to be his friend so badly, even if it meant just being around his toothy grin. After everything that had happened, you still couldn’t bring yourself to trust him. It was probably for the best, but it was a devastating feeling. You had a hard time being around your Woodsboro friends, even after everything you’d gone through together, and that made it even harder when it came to new people.

Ethan pulled off his helmet, releasing his curls from their cardboard prison. He reminded you of a puppy sometimes, between his smile and his hair. “I’m surprised you guys like Halloween. Especially…” He motioned at the nearest idiot wearing a Ghostface mask.

You clenched your jaw. Ethan was right; it was pretty jarring walking around with people dressed like the lunatic that had tried to kill you. “It’s uh, it’s definitely weird. It’s not exactly my favorite costume.”

Ethan opened his mouth but was interrupted by Chad’s loud shouts of greeting. The other boy shoved a cup full of something into your hands and knocked his head into Ethan’s, who let out a grunt. “Let’s dance, motherfuckers!”

You allowed Chad to drag you onto the makeshift dance floor. Despite Chad’s athletic stature, he was a terrible dancer. Ethan sat back and watched, laughing.

“Chad!” Anika rounded the corner. “We need you, it’s Tara.”

He snapped to attention. It was pretty obvious to see that Chad had a thing for Tara, even if Tara hadn’t noticed yet. You raced after him, Ethan right at your heels. Tara was headed upstairs with a guy who looked one second away from forcing himself on her. Gross. As Chad attempted to defend Tara’s honor, you glanced back at Ethan.

“You okay?” He whispered.

“Yeah, why?”

“You just… look worried.” He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. Before you could answer, Sam stormed up to Frankie and tased him in the balls.

“We should go, we should GO!” You grabbed Ethan by the arm and dragged him after the others.

You got back to your dorm that night and immediately collapsed onto your bed. It had been a chaotic evening after the party and you had been eager to get home. It wasn’t easy watching Sam and Tara deal with the Woodsboro aftermath and you were barely dealing with your own trauma.

After removing your costume and taking a quick shower, you climbed into bed with a snack and your laptop. You had just logged onto Netflix when your phone rang. Without thinking, you answered it. “Hello?”

“Hello Y/N, having a good Halloween?”

Fuck.

“Who is this?” You tried to keep your voice steady, but you wanted to puke. You had been foolish to think that he was really gone.

“Aw, don’t tell me you forgot all the fun we had back in Woodsboro?” Ghostface laughed. “I missed you too. How’s college?”

“I know you didn’t call to chat, get to the point.” You stood and double-checked that your doors and windows were locked. “Where are you?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not hiding in your dorm room. Yet. I just wanted to check in. Are you gonna watch a scary movie?”

You scoffed. “Never again. You ruined them for me.”

“How unfortunate. I’ll see you soon, sweetheart.”

As soon as Ghostface hung up, you collapsed to the ground. Your body shook as you began to sob, panic coursing through your veins. You needed to warn them. You needed to tell someone.

You threw on a hoodie and sprinted into the hallway and ran until you reached a familiar door. “CHAD! CHAD IT’S IMPORTANT!”

He opened the door. “What are-”

“Ghostface is back.”

#ethan landry #jack champion #scream 6 #scream franchise #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine

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yea-baiyi · 1 year

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i’m sure people smarter than me have said this, but the odyssey is the sequel to the monomyth actually. in the hero’s journey the hero departs from home, from innocence, from safety, to fulfil his destiny. in homer’s the odyssey, the war is over, the destiny fulfilled. next comes the real fight, the unwinnable fight—to return to everything you left home to fight for.

in the first half of the poem, while odysseus fights tooth and nail to return home, his home fights with its last breath to give odysseus a home to return to. and time is running out. his wife penelope is down to her last desperate excuse. suitors have invaded his home, eating through his household and his wealth. his son, telemachus, almost grown, leaves home for the first time to find out if odysseus is still alive, if there is still a reason to keep fighting. having lost everything he had, over and over, odysseus is finally allowed to arrive in his homeland. at first he doesn’t recognise it. and he is cursed to look old and decrepit, so that none of his loved ones would recognise him.

for the second half of the poem, he has returned and miraculously, he has not been displaced or forgotten. but now he has to reclaim what was his. and removing the rot, restoring this place to the home odysseus remembers, is long and painful. instead of walking through the front door, he must sneak in through the back or risk being thrown out. not a single person knows him by sight; odysseus must prove his identity over and over, to every member of his household. he must retell story after story, share secret after secret, reveal every marking or scar upon his body, to finally be recognised by his own family. and then he destroys every last trace of the intruders—kills the men, kills the servants, wipes the slate clean.

by athena’s magic, he is restored to his former youth and glory as he reunites with his wife. the families of the slain suitors try to seek revenge, but zeus, lord of the skies, intervenes. odysseus, filled with his god-given strength, is home, and ready to fight to protect it.

it’s a complete sequel to the heroes journey, but what makes it part of the monomyth is the horrible truth about odysseus’ tale: that it’s impossible. that you will leave, and your home will change in your absence, and someone might fill your place; your family won’t recognise you, your wife met someone else, intruders have destroyed your home, and you will never be as young as you were. you will return and you will fight with every ounce of your strength and it won’t be enough to turn back the clock. it’s the terrible last chapter to every hero’s story that we don’t like to talk about.

and yet, of course, it’s the same story we tell over and over: we’ve won the war, now all we want is to return home, but home is no longer somewhere we can reach.

#the odyssey #hero’s journey #the monomyth #greek mythology #odyssey #homeric hyperfixation haze #sorry this has nothing to do with mxtx but i’ve been sitting on this thought about the odyssey for months #like. i’m sure this isn’t a new thought but.#you think of tolkien and the scourging of the shire #all quiet on the western front #narnia #all the chinese poets #i want to go home. but i am home.#think about how the odyssey ends at the very second athena declared the conflict over.#we don’t see odysseus reaction to it. we see him ready to fight. athena declares a peace.#but it is abrupt. as if athena is slamming the window shut. he won he’s happy that’s enough.#does he manage to live after that? we don’t get to know #i was sitting on this thought for ages. and then i read the greek tragedies. was helping my friend with a paper on home by toni morrison #and yeah this all clicked. got irresistible

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askmemenoquestions · 28 days

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Slay the Princess Starter Sentences

*Contains spoilers

"You have a job to do here. Just get in there and do what needs to be done."

"While I appreciate the mental exercise, we are running up against a bit of a ticking clock."

"It's no use arguing semantics over a metaphorical chicken-or-egg, because the egg is hatched and it's about to ruin everything."

"If anything, slaying a princess is better than slaying a seamstress. Seamstresses contribute something of value to society."

"You're playing a dangerous game by coming here unarmed."

"We could have gotten out of here together. Were you just lying to me this whole time?"

"If I have to kill you, I'll kill you. Do you think I need both of my arms to do that?"

"This vessel is full of you. I need something empty I can crawl inside of. I need something shaped like me."

"This world is broken beyond repair. We must weave something new."

"Do you want to linger here, entwined with a creature you taught to hate you forever? Eternity never ends."

"You shouldn't have let that fear creep into your heart. You had the upper hand, and now look at you."

"Don't think that just because I'm the one in chains it means you have a right to interrogate me."

"You poor thing. I'll go ahead and put you out of your misery."

"This was fun. You put up more of a fight than I thought you would."

"You have made a decision. It is the wrong one. I love you."

"Please, shake yourself out of it. We have to get out of here."

"No... this is the beginning of eternity. Your reward."

"And then you locked us away in an empty void for eternity."

"Like I've been saying. She's dead. We killed her already."

"Why are you even here? Just making sure you finished the job or what?"

"I was willing to ignore everything you did to me so we could get out of here. Together."

"But I guess violence is the only language you speak."

"On second thought, let's not kill him. Let's throw him someplace that never ends. I'd like to see what that does to him."

"You are familiar, but you are not me. I feel sadness, longing, hope as I witness you."

"I'm sorry. There are some changes that can never be undone, there are some tears that can never be unshed."

"I have not lived. I am not afraid to die."

"If you need time, then I'll wait with you."

"What textures will you weave for yourself to occupy forever? Will you place 'You' and 'I' into a box for safekeeping?"

"I will be here waiting by your side until you're ready to return to mine."

"She asks that I tell you to remember her. You won't."

"You've made a terrible enemy, and there's nothing in the world that can possibly save you from me."

"After all this time alone, I thought I'd finally found a friend. But you were just another monster, weren't you?"

"I know who you are, and I remember what you've done."

"We don't have to make things better. We can't make things better."

"We're just meant to chase each other in the dark until one of us catches the other."

"I'm glad to die horribly if it means you die with me. I wouldn't have it any other way."

"The thing that sits beyond our edge speaks his logic into us. He tries to grasp at things that cannot be grasped."

"It was a fitting end. I'm sorry if it hurt. But doesn't this make it all seem so small?"

"Whenever you are ready, I will wipe your slate clean once again."

"Words are... difficult for me. They never fully weave what I wish to say."

"There is nowhere for you to be but here."

"You have already committed to my completion. You cannot go further astray."

"What you're seeing here is obviously real. Just accept it and go with the flow."

"You are like me, even if you have chosen not to look at the corners of you that do not fit, even if you have chosen to ignore the brilliant contours of your soul."

"The desires of my multitudes thrive in endless competition with themselves, but none of them rise above their dance to influence me."

"You've brought that knife again, even though you know it's useless. Such charming audacity."

"Oh? Are you still trying to defy me? I. Said. Kneel."

"What a pitiful display. A wounded little bird thinking it can defy a god."

"Was severing the tendons of my ascension not enough for you? Was it not enough to rend my divine heart?"

"I hope you weren't planning on dying. We're going to make this last forever."

"These gifts are a conversation, and each one shows me the contours of your heart."

"I'm going to have fun breaking you into little pieces."

"You and I are always going to end in violence, so why bother to run?"

"I never wanted to fight you. So how do we leave?"

#ask memes #rp ask memes #askbox memes #rp memes #sentence starters #rp starters

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goforth-ladymidnight · 5 months

Text

A Second Chance

Pairing: Tamlin x Lucien

Rating: M for mature themes and strong language

Ch. 1/5(?)

Word Count: 3.9k

Summary: There is a reason that Tamlin disappeared from Lucien's life seven years ago. Lucien just doesn't know what it is. They were more than college roommates; they were best friends. Now, a chance encounter in a bookstore leaves both of them wondering if they can pick up where they left off. A new year is right around the corner, but there is no wiping Tamlin's slate clean. Featuring Jurian and Vassa in supporting roles, this is not a story of redemption, but of finding love—and forgiveness—in the most unlikely of places. A Modern ACOTAR Holiday AU.

✨✨✨For @praetorqueenreyna ✨✨✨

It's here! It's here! It's finally here! (Emphasis on finally.) Even though this took a lot longer than I intended, it's also a lot longer, too. This is the first chapter out of five (I think), and I hope to have the rest done by New Year's. Featuring your OTP Tamcien, as requested, as well as a little bit of Jassa because, as you'll soon see, they needed to be in this story. :) I hope you like it! I had an absolute blast writing it.

@acotargiftexchange

Read on AO3 as part of the 2023 Gift Exchange Collection or read on below the cut:

“Rudolph, the red-nosed reindeer,” crooned a male voice in the sound system above their heads, a slower, mellower version of the jolly holiday song that matched the easygoing vibe in The Reading Nook Bookstore.

Lucien absentmindedly hummed along as he browsed the themed display tables, passing over the fantasy and romance books in favor of something more to his mother’s taste. As he read the synopsis of the latest Poppy Seedcake Mystery, a cozy murder mystery series themed around baked goods, he couldn’t help but smirk.

“What do you think of this,” he asked Vassa, who was perusing the political thriller section nearby. When she glanced up, he held up the cover and continued jokingly, “Should I get this for my mom? It’s all about murdering your husband and how to get away with it.”

Vassa’s bright blue eyes flicked to the cover. “Rat poison,” she said simply, before returning her attention to the thick novel in her hands.

Lucien’s brows furrowed as he turned the cover over. He traced the title with his finger as he read to her, “No, it says: A Raisin to Kill… Wait. What do you mean: ‘Rat Poison’?”

“How to murder your husband and get away with it,” she repeated in her richly lyrical Scythian accent. “Rat poison. In coffee. Tea is too weak to disguise the taste.”

Lucien swore and ducked his shoulders as a couple of curious shoppers glanced up from their magazines nearby. Redfaced, he set the mystery book down and remarked, “I forgot how literal you are sometimes.”

Vassa looked at him quizzically. “Is that not what you wanted to give your mother for Christmas?”

“Not if it can used as evidence in a murder trial,” he quipped, then shook off the chill rippling down his arms. “Maybe I’ll just buy her a fruit basket.”

“Rat poison works well in the juices of fruit, too,” she said brightly.

Lucien chuckled nervously and ran a hand over his long red hair. “I’ll take your word for it.” He wanted his bastard father dead just as much as the rest of his brothers, but he wasn’t keen on being considered a suspect in Beron Vanserra’s death. “Where did you learn about that, um—” he cleared his throat, “—advice, anyway?”

“My mother. It is said my grandfather was a—how you say—good-for-nothing rat bastard.” Lucien’s eyebrows shot up as she continued, “So, my grandmother, she takes care of him. Rat poison.”

He realized his mouth had fallen open, so he closed it. Loosening the knot of the wool scarf around his neck, he remarked, “Scythian housewives don’t mess around, do they?”

Vassa smiled sweetly and added her book to a steadily growing pile with a heavy, meaningful thump. “Rat poison makes no mess. Not like stab wounds.”

Lucien let out a nervous chuckle. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”

“I will,” she trilled, then her smile vanished as she caught sight of something behind him. “Do you know a man with light hair in dark clothes?” she asked in a low voice. “He is—how you say—checking me out.”

Lucien chuckled. “Lucky you,” he quipped, returning his gaze to the Murder Mystery display, then he froze. “Wait.” Had one of the customers overheard them and called the police? Shit. Wait. Don’t panic. “What does he look like?”

She shrugged with her mouth. “Big. Strong.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. With a wincing smile, he looked over his shoulder, trying to think of a way to explain that he and his foreign friend were only joking, when he realized he recognized the man. He straightened and turned to face the man directly. “Tam?”

With a shy chuckle, Tamlin stepped closer, tucking a book under his arm as he said, “Hey, Lu. I thought that was you.”

Lucien shook his head and let out an amazed laugh, then spread his arms wide and drew Tamlin into a sudden hug. It was as brief as it was awkward, but he couldn’t help himself. After a congenial back thump, Lucien released him and stepped back. “How long has it been, man?”

“Long time,” Tamlin replied with a tight smile, his cheeks slightly flushed. “At least…”

“Seven years,” they said in unison.

“Seven years,” Tamlin repeated, nodding slowly. “What have you been, um—” He glanced at Vassa, then shoved his hands in his pockets and amended, “How have you been?”

“Good,” Lucien said quickly. “Really good. Um.” He cleared his throat and gestured to the redhead at his side. “Before I forget. Tam, this is my friend, Vassa. Vassa, this is Tamlin.”

She twiddled her fingers in a polite wave.

He looked to Tamlin and continued, “She and I met when I traveled to Scythia for that foreign exchange program back in college. Remember?”

“Oh… right,” Tamlin said, nodding slowly, then gestured at her with his pocketed hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Vassa smiled and repeated a similar greeting in Scythian.

“She’s just visiting,” Lucien explained, “but she’s thinking of moving here after the holidays.”

“Congratulations,” Tamlin said politely, and Vassa dipped her head in acknowledgment.

“What about you, man?” Lucien asked him, thumping him on the shoulder. “Where have you been hiding yourself? I haven’t seen you since junior year.”

Tamlin shrugged dismissively. “Oh, you know. Around.”

When it was clear he wasn’t going to elaborate, Lucien turned to Vassa and remarked, “Tam has the greenest thumb of anyone I know. Someone left a dying, um, plant in our dorm, and Tam nursed it back to health.”

At Vassa’s blank look, Tamlin explained, “He means weed.”

Lucien added jokingly, “The whole floor called us the High Lords.”

Tamlin turned red and chuckled. “Oh, god. The High Lords. I had forgotten about that.”

Lucien grinned. “Yeah. Weren’t there six of us? You, me, Kallias, Tarquin, Rhys—”

Tamlin’s easy smile stiffened. “Oh. Yeah.”

Lucien was about to ask what that look meant, when he noticed Vassa’s confused frown. “Oh, sorry,” he told her. “I meant to explain: Weed is something you smoke to get high. Um, feel good. We were in Room 420… You know. Dumb kid stuff.”

Vassa continued to frown. “He has green thumb?”

Both Tamlin and Lucien let out embarrassed chuckles.

Before Lucien could think of a better Scythian translation, Tamlin pulled his hand out of his pocket and gave her a thumbs-up. “He just means I’m good with my hands,” he said with a smile.

“You should have heard him play in the orchestra,” Lucien added eagerly. “He could make a grown man cry with his violin.” Vassa smiled at that. Music was something she appreciated, and understood; no translation necessary. He asked Tamlin, “Do you still play?”

Tamlin winced and rubbed the back of his neck. “Uh, no. Not really.”

“Oh.”

Before he could think of a better question, Tamlin cleared his throat and said, “Well, it was good seeing you again. I don’t often run into anyone from the old days, so—”

“Oh, yeah?” Lucien said, trying to keep him a little longer. “Maybe we can have lunch some time. I don’t want to keep you from your Christmas shopping.” He nodded at the book tucked under his old friend’s arm. It had a bright yellow spine that contrasted nicely with the dark hunter green of his jacket, so it was difficult to ignore. It was difficult to think of what else to say.

“Job hunting for…” Vassa said slowly, tilting her head as she read the spine, and Lucien suddenly realized why Tamlin had been hiding the book under his arm.

“For a friend,” Tamlin said hastily, his face turning as red as Lucien’s felt. He jerked his thumb at the checkout line and said, “I’m on my lunch break, so…”

Not wanting to end their chance meeting on a sour note, Lucien asked him, “So, when do you get off work? Five?”

Tamlin’s throat bobbed. “Something like that.”

Lucien nodded at Vassa and said, “We’re having dinner at eight o’clock tonight, and we’d love for you to join us.”

“After, we have tickets to Swan Lake,” Vassa added.

“Vassa’s never been, so…” Lucien tried to explain, but Tamlin winced and held up his hand.

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Not at all,” Lucien insisted. “We’ll just get another ticket.”

Tamlin looked skeptical. “To Swan Lake? In December?”

“You know the Vanserras are big patrons of the arts. I’ll name-drop.”

“I don’t know,” Tamlin said slowly. “Two’s company, three’s a crowd…”

“You can be bringing someone else, too, yes?” Vassa offered.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Lucien asked.

Tamlin’s brows furrowed. “You mean… like a date?”

“Yeah,” Lucien squeaked, then cleared his throat. “Um, yeah, a date.” He gestured between them. “You can bring someone, I’ll bring Vassa, and then nobody will feel left out. What do you say?”

Tamlin quirked his mouth to one side, thinking it over. After a long pause, he sighed. “I do have a friend…”

“Perfect.” Lucien jumped at the chance. “Let’s meet up for drinks at The Sour Lemon Bar at seven, then we’ll have dinner and go to the theater afterwards.”

When Tamlin still hesitated, Lucien added, “My treat.”

Tamlin winced. “I can’t let you do that—”

“Sure you can!” Lucien insisted, thumping him on the arm. “It’s all going on the Vanserra expense account, anyway. A very merry Fuck You to my father, just in time for Christmas.”

Tamlin dropped his gaze to the ground, chuckling deeply. When he looked up again, the tight lines in his face had eased, and his smile finally reached his eyes. “You haven’t changed a bit, you know that?”

Lucien grinned. “Does that mean you’ll come?”

Tamlin sighed again, but he nodded. “It’s a date.” He blushed. “I-I mean, with you a-and Vassa.” He cleared his throat. “Seven, you said?”

Lucien’s scarf felt strangely tight as he agreed, “At The Sour Lemon Bar. Do you need an address?”

“No, I’m sure I’ll find it,” Tamlin said, edging toward the checkout stand. “See you, Lu. Nice to meet you, um, Vassa.”

Vassa nodded, and Lucien raised his hand in farewell as he watched his long-lost friend make his way to the front of the store.

“He seems nice,” Vassa remarked.

“Yeah,” Lucien murmured, watching as Tamlin took out a worn-looking leather wallet from the back of his belted jeans. The hunter green bomber jacket looked warm enough, but it was December, and they were expecting snow later. He wasn’t even wearing a hat, but his sunlight blond hair reached his shoulders and covered his ears, so maybe he didn’t need one. Tamlin’s hair had been much shorter back in the day, just curling under his ears and tickling the back of his neck when the two of them were in school, an act of defiance against his military father, Tamlin had said.

The long hair suited him, but unlike Lucien’s own shoulder-length strands, it seemed less like a stylistic choice and more like he hadn’t seen a barber in a while. It was like he hadn’t seen anyone in a while.

As Tamlin left the store without looking back, the bell above the door jingled, and a new song began to play: “Sleigh bells ring, are you listenin’…”

It was almost funny, but Lucien could only sigh. Something had happened to his old friend, but he couldn’t begin to guess what it was. With a start, he realized he hadn’t given Tamlin his contact information. He could only hope that his old friend would show up like he promised, and then he could find out what had happened to break his spirit.

* * *

Tamlin slid into the front seat of his friend’s black SUV with a heavy sigh. The soiled interior smelled like an ashtray and stale french fries, but at least it was warm.

Jurian, sitting in the driver’s seat with his mini-binoculars glued to the front of his face, asked, “Find anything good?”

Tamlin sighed again and rubbed his hands against the vent’s steady flow of welcome heat. “Yeah.”

Jurian lowered the binoculars at last and looked at him. “And?”

“And she was in there, all right? She was Christmas shopping, like normal people do at this time of year.”

Jurian smirked. “Oh, like you?” He glanced down at the paper bag resting on the middle seat. “What’s that?”

“It’s nothing—Hey!”

Jurian had the bag torn open before he could snatch it back, and he scoffed. “Job Hunting for Dummies?” He snorted. “Looking for another job, dummy?”

Face burning, Tamlin snatched the book and the bag back. “Shut up. I had to buy something, all right? It was the first thing I grabbed. She saw me.”

“Shit. She saw you?” Jurian grimaced and ran a hand over his salt-and-pepper stubble. “Did she mark you?”

“No,” Tamlin muttered, wrapping the torn brown paper edges over the top of the book before shoving it under his seat.

“Good. The last thing we need is to lose our payday. Christmas is coming up, and the fat man is bringing a big fat check if we play this right.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tamlin muttered, shoving his hands under his armpits.

Jurian snorted. “Don’t sound so excited. It’s not every day that a job like this drops in our laps. Cheating spouses is our bread and butter, but runaway princesses?” He put his fingers to his lips and kissed them. “Filet mignon.”

Tamlin let out a resigned sigh. “If you like filet mignon.”

Jurian smirked. “I don’t mind second helpings.” Tamlin shot him a look, but Jurian suddenly straightened up and snapped his fingers at something outside. “Hey-hey-hey. There she is. Grab the camera.”

As Tamlin reluctantly reached into the backseat, Jurian lifted the binoculars and squinted through them.

“Huh. Koschei didn’t mention she had a brother.”

Tamlin straightened up in the passenger seat as he slung the camera strap around his neck. “She doesn’t.”

Jurian lowered the binoculars with a confused squint. “Then who’s the twink?”

“He’s not a twink—” Tamlin bit back a growl as Jurian raised his dark, bushy brows at him. He took a deep breath and calmly explained, “His name is Lucien Vanserra. You’ve probably heard of his family.”

“Vanserra? As in Daddy is the head of the entire Autumn Corporation?” When Tamlin nodded, Jurian let out a low, appreciative whistle and resumed his binocular view. “That explains the nice threads. No wonder Princess is hanging around him.”

Tamlin’s cheeks flushed with a muttered, “Yeah,” then lifted the camera and looked down the telescopic lens. The two redheads were chatting amiably outside the bookstore, blissfully unaware that they were being watched by some sleazy private eye and his equally sleazy but unwilling cameraman. At least it paid the rent. Some of the time.

It was just a few lousy pictures. Proof that Vassa was living in Prythian. That was all. But still, as Tamlin zoomed in on Lucien’s smiling face, as he laughed at something Vassa said, his perfect teeth bright against the tawny beige of his skin, his finger hovered—and hesitated—over the shutter button.

“Problem?” Jurian asked.

“Smudge on the lens,” Tamlin muttered, lowering the camera. As he dug around in the camera case for a cleaning cloth, Jurian swore.

“You didn’t think to check it before we left?”

“It’s this damn vehicle,” Tamlin snapped. “Maybe if you cleaned it once in a while—”

“Hey. Don’t blame me for your screw-up—”

“I didn’t want to take this job in the first place!”

“Oh, now you tell me. Anything else you want to confess, or should I find a priest for that?!”

They were still arguing when Tamlin saw red.

“Shit.” He ducked down in the passenger seat as Lucien stepped off the sidewalk and crossed the street in front of the SUV, alone.

Jurian sat back in his seat and barked a laugh when Tamlin finally lifted his head to peek over the dashboard. “Hey, dumbass. Tinted windows, remember?”

“Shut up,” Tamlin muttered, straightening up, then winced as he examined the lens, which had been bumped loose from the lens mount. He hoped it wasn’t broken. Repairs like that weren’t cheap.

Jurian sat up in the driver’s seat and squinted, then smacked his hand against the steering wheel. “Dammit. She’s gone.”

He shifted the SUV into gear, then floored the gas and pulled into the street. As they drove, scanning the slushy streets, Jurian ran a hand through his already unruly dark hair. “Fuck. Where are we supposed to look for her now?”

As Tamlin lowered the two pieces of the camera to his lap, he cleared his throat. “Funny you should mention that…”

Jurian cocked an eyebrow as Tamlin explained what had happened inside the bookstore. “A date?” He could barely keep his eyes on the road. “Are you fucking serious?”

“It’s not a date,” Tamlin retorted. “We’re just old friends catching up, that’s all.”

“You and pretty boy, maybe, but what am I supposed to do? I’m supposed to be undercover. We’re supposed to be undercover, dipshit.”

“I’m not going to blow our cover,” Tamlin growled through gritted teeth. “And you don’t have to come.”

Jurian huffed in frustration and slammed on the brakes, narrowly missing the car in front of him as it idled at a stoplight. “Great,” he huffed again, smacking the steering wheel. “This is just great.” He grumbled something about this being the worst time to give up smoking—even though it had been three years—then he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Look. I’m sorry, kid. I know this isn’t your dream job. I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I wasn’t desperate. My vision isn’t what it used to be, and Mr. Hybern is breathing down my neck, and…”

Tamlin’s fingers traced the edges of the busted lens mount, and he sighed. “I know.”

“I’ll make it up to you. We’ll skip the filet mignon and get one of those—” He snapped his fingers. “—what do you call ‘em—hide-a-beds. God knows we need a new couch anyway.”

Tamlin thought of the way the sorry sofa sagged under his weight and the way it was six inches too short no matter which way he laid on it.

“You know what? I’ll even pretend to be whatever you want on this date—not-a-date,” he amended when Tamlin shot him a warning look, “if you’ll help me with this last job. Deal?”

It still meant lying to Lucien, but was leaving out the worst part of the last seven years even a lie in the first place? The traffic light ahead of them turned green, but the SUV continued to idle.

“Well?”

Tamlin sighed again. “Deal.”

“Atta boy,” Jurian said warmly, then flipped off the cars honking behind him. “I know it’s green, you morons.”

Tamlin sank back against the passenger seat as the SUV sped up to join the thick of downtown traffic, strangely calm while Jurian swore at all the holiday shoppers during the most fuckin’ wonderful time of the year.

Even though Tamlin would have preferred to leave Jurian—and Vassa—out of it, he was almost looking forward to that evening. It had been so long since he had looked forward to anything… It wasn’t even about the food and the entertainment. God only knew how long it had been since he had had enjoyed anything half that nice. The Sour Lemon Bar alone was on the ritzier side of town, after all… It was about the company.

A slight smile touched his mouth as he thought back to that chance meeting with his old friend and former roommate. Jurian was decent enough to give him a place to stay when the whole world went to hell, but… From the first day they met at college, he and Lucien just clicked. They could talk about everything and nothing. It was more than being best friends. They were true kindred spirits.

They were each the youngest in their respective families, with strict, overbearing fathers who couldn’t be bothered to show up for important things like recitals or graduation, but who were also obsessed with image and obedience.

Tamlin still didn’t know how Lucien’s mom put up with it, but his own mother had passed away when he was sixteen. She had been there for every school concert, every violin recital, smiling proudly despite undergoing brutal cancer treatments. All the while his own father couldn’t be bothered to show up.

“Only queers and sissies play the fiddle,” his father had sneered.

Real men play football. Real men win wrestling tournaments. Real men take one for the team, the way his brothers did. They called him selfish for making their mother go to his concerts when she should have been home resting. They ignored her insistence that she really wanted to go, but at least they didn’t stop her.

Even at her weakest, she continued to show up, holding a single rose to throw on the stage after each performance, ‘the way they did it in the movies’. He used to be embarrassed about it, but he secretly dried them out and kept every single one… At least until his father found the box after her death and threw them all out.

Tamlin then chose to honor her memory by working his ass off and getting a music scholarship to one of the most prestigious universities in Prythian instead of going into the military like his father wanted. He had paid for it, too, in more ways than one. He hadn’t spoken to his father and two older brothers for ten years, and he didn’t plan on starting now. Jurian’s foul mouth and fouler apartment were preferable to the abuse and neglect he had endured at the hands of his so-called family. And then to run into Lucien again after all this time…

Maybe this was finally the end of some terrible bad luck streak. Some god-awful curse. Seven years bad luck, and all that. It seemed pointless to hope, and yet… Lucien had actually been happy to see him. He had hugged him. Tamlin finally understood what it meant to be touch-starved, and he realized he was ravenous. As much as he had protested, how could he say no to another taste?

Since the camera needed repairs anyway, there was no reason he couldn’t sit back and enjoy himself for a single evening. Jurian could keep an eye on Vassa while he and Lucien reminisced about the good ol’ days…

As the nicer buildings of downtown gave way to small, old-fashioned houses and even older apartment buildings on the edge of town where he and Jurian lived, Tamlin let out a disgruntled sigh. Who was he kidding?

There was no fooling Lucien. His friend had always had the uncanny ability to see right through him. If he somehow managed to bullshit his way through the evening and pretend that everything was sunshine and roses, there was no getting around the fact that he still had a job to do. Some shadowy figure called Mr. Koschei wanted those photos of Vassa by Christmas.

Tamlin wanted to believe that the pictures meant nothing more than a paycheck, but three months’ worth of rent was a lot to ask for a few lousy headshots, no matter how badly they needed it. He certainly didn’t want to see her get hurt, or Lucien, either, for that matter, but he didn’t see any way around it.

He hated himself even more now for getting involved, and for agreeing to Jurian’s proposal. But Jurian couldn’t do it without his help, or his camera.

The most wonderful time of the year, indeed.

#to be continued #you probably already guessed it was me #but #ta da #i've been so nervous about posting this #since it's not finished yet #and it doesn't really get happy until the end #but since you said you like angst #and new year's fics #and latkes #i really hope you like it #acotar gift exchange #acotar gift exchange 2023 #tamcien #tamlin x lucien

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ya-kiri · 1 year

Text

My Thoughts on the Zelda Timeline and Tears of the Kingdom

Given how the Imprisoning War mentioned in Tears of the Kingdom contradicts the one mentioned in the prolouge of Link to the Past, Rauru and Sonia forming the Kingdom of Hyrule and being the first King and Queen (despite Ocarina of Time coming before) and the Ganondorf in this game seemingly having no recollection of past Links/Heroes and Zeldas or connection to the Ganondorf of past games...it's my guess that they reset the series lore starting with Breath of the Wild and the ten thousand years between it and the era of Myth.

youtube

The only other game that stills seems to have any relevant unchanged and non-contradicted canon seems to be Skyward Sword but that's mostly due to it being a starting point, the game's director being the same as BOTW and TOTK, and the Forgotten Temple. Honestly it seems like that because they reintroduced and make allusions to key moments and figures in the series in this game like the Sages (particularly King Rauru) and Imprisoning War from LttP, and Ganondorf and him being welcomed by the King and distrusted by Zelda like he was in Ocarina of Time. I should also point out that the original Imprisoning War happens right before the Fallen Timeline which takes place after OoT, and in that Ganondorf has permanently transformed into pig Ganon after killing Time Link and attaining the full Triforce.

There are too many timeline contradictions yet intentional references in the game's story to past games that it seems like a reboot is the most credible idea.

However at the same time, there are too many connections to previous games that take place after Skyward Sword that even the idea of a series reboot is questionable like the Temple of Time, old OoT Castle Town ruins, the sages from OoT being referenced by the stones surrounding the Master Sword and the Sheikah monks' poses during the Master Sword Trials, the Koroks and Deku Tree, the mural about Ruto's love for Time Link, Rauru sharing the name of one of the sages from OoT, and Darmani. Also, what are the chances of there being another event in Zelda lore referred to as the Imprisoning War that involves an incarnation of Ganon, sages, sealing Ganon, and one of the sages being named Rauru like the Sage of Light?

link to image: x

Are the games during the Era of Myth just that, mythology? Fairy tales? Is there even a Triforce anymore? The symbol is shown but its not referred to as such and Ganondorf in this game shows no interest or knowledge of the Triforce like every other character. On the opposite end of this is Skyward Sword which they reinforce is connected to the latest games with Fi, the Forgotten Temple and Sealed Temple connections, the tree growing out the wall and the fact the Hylia statue gives you the Goddess Sword:

It's so weird everytime Tears of the Kingdom's story made a reference to past games (that aren't Skyward Sword), when you think they are trying to connect them (like I initially thought), it turns around and makes it self-contained and isolated incident exclusive from any game that came before BOTW and Skyward Sword. With all the trouble Nintendo's had making sense of and reworking the Zelda timeline the past few decades for the fans and the success of Breath of the Wild, may be they wanted to wipe the slate clean (with Skyward Sword being the start of that initiative).

At first maybe they were hesistant which is why they stated the timelines converge into BOTW, but I guess they decided during TOTK's development or before and, again, may be due to the massive success of BOTW they just said screw it and just do it with the latest game's story showing the beginning of the Kingdom of Hyrule. These are just my messy thoughts based on my basic understanding of the timeline and theories I've heard and I welcome any other explanations.

EDIT(6/19/23)

So it's been brought to my attention that the Imprisoning War in TOTK may possibly be a second Imprisoning War (thanks @ghoul--chan ). The implications and can of worms that opens is shocking. Since Zelda was transported to the beginning of Hyrule as a kingdom and the start of the Royal Family, that would mean that she was transported to before Minish Cap. If that is true...dear goddess.... that would mean the Ganondorf in this game is one that existed before Ocarina of Time.

That also implies that two incarnations of Ganondorf had been somehow co-existing at the same time during the Era of Myth with one being sealed underground. This also mean that the Imprisoning War in Link to the Past is now retroactively a callback to this hypothetical first Imprisoning War; both involve sages, both involve a sage of Light named Rauru, and both involve sealing an incarnation of Ganon. Also, this means the Rito existed before Wind Waker making this mural from Twilight Princess HD reference to that!!

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puffpasstea · 2 years

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A/N: here’s the requested dom!Harry blurb from MATILDA. I just wrote it in an hour so I hope it’s not awful. Let me know what you think!

warnings: smut, dom!harry, a bit on the rough side so read with caution. ——

“And, you’re sure about this?” Harry’s brows quirked upwards, a self-satisfied smile on his face.

“Yes, Harry! Quit asking me that. A promise is a promise. I told you.”

“I get to do whatever I want with you….all night long?”

“That is our agreement, isn’t it?” I shrugged.

“Well, don’t look so enthusiastic!”

I rolled my eyes.

“You’ll go along with everything I tell you?” He related his questions for the billionth time.

“Yes! Isn’t that how this whole dominant/submissive thing works with most people?”

“You, my dear, aren’t most people.”

“I- know. I’m just saying. I’m trying to be normal. Can we just- get it over with already. I’m tired of this guilt looming over us.”

I’d volunteered this arrangement as a gesture of apology, to prove to Harry that I trust him, after the argument we’d had over my so-called ‘Jealous’ behavior. If it were up to me, we would have gotten this done that very night, but Harry insisted on taking a couple of days to “cool off” and “avoid putting his hands on me in anger.” I knew he was doing the responsible thing, but I have to say, the guilt of waiting it out, and the anticipation of this moment, almost killed me. I just wanted to even the score and wipe the slate clean. Plus, I wanted to SHOW him that I trust him, since, when it comes to telling him, I seem to be fundamentally incapable of finding the right words.

“Coulda just left it at ‘I’m sorry,’ woulda forgiven you anyway.”

“Wait, really? Oh, fuck!”

Harry’s laugh echoed in his chest. “I’m just messin’ with you.”

***

Harry’s light-hearted openness often balanced out the edge to my personality; it was probably part of the reason we worked so well together. But something about that night was different. Perhaps tying me up, spread eagle, and covering my eyes reminded him of the reason that we were doing this in the first place, causing anger to fester back up inside of him. Or maybe it was my nerves. Not knowing what he was going to to do me at any given moment, and having to submit to his every demand right on the spot, made my head fuzzy. The mix of emotions was confusing. On the one hand, a part of me remained on guard, attempting to anticipate his every move, on the other hand, the urge to surrender my body was difficult to resist, especially when he’d literally tied me to the bed.

Harry made me repeat my hard limits and safewords back to him for precaution, assuring me that, even though I said he was free to do whatever his heart desired for the night, he still had no plans to cross any of my boundaries or hard limits. Repeating, for the thousandth time since we’d met, the promise that I could tap out at any moment, that he’d never do anything to hurt me, that he wants me to stay safe above all else. If anyone deserved my trust, it was Harry. I hope I can one day get to the point where I am able to trust him. He doesn’t deserve my paranoia and jealousy. Not, when, at every opportunity, he’s shown me nothing but respect and kindness.

Harry kissed my lips sweetly and asked if I was ready, something he did every time. I nodded.

“What am I gonna do with you tonight? Hmm?” Even though I couldn’t see him, I could tell from Harry’s footsteps that he was pacing around the bed. Leisurely taking his time planning out the evening.

After what felt like an eternity, I felt his breath against my ear as he whispered, “you look so beautiful all naked and laid out for me like this, do you know that?” Though his words were meant as a compliment, his tone made it seem more like a threat.

Placing himself between my legs his lips kissed up my thigh, getting closer and closer to my center. I jerked up at the sensation, my cuffs holding me in place. “Shit!” I could hear him chuckle at my reaction.

“It breaks my heart when you doubt my love for you.” He stated matter of factly before licking into my wet folds. I gasped and jolted again, but this time, his strong hands, wrapped around my thighs, assisted the restraints in holding me down. A few strokes of his tongue later, his lips moved to focus on my clit, unleashing a string of moans and incoherent sounds from me. He was relentless in his touch, delicate, precise, he knew exactly where to touch me and how, and just when he’d started to feel my limbs trembling and my walls clenching, he pulled away with an obnoxiously loud slurping noise. Announcing that he thought I tasted so good.

“Fuckin drives me insane when you ask me if I’ve been with anyone else. Like I could possibly have eyes for someone other than you? Hmm? Is that really what you think of me?”

“I’m sorry- oh fuck!” His mouth went back to fucking me, effectively severing the thread of thought that I’d attempted to verbalize in my apology. My response long gone, I was now panting and begging.

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do to prove to you that I love you. I love you. Only you.” Harry replaced his lips with his fingers, his thumb rubbing circles against my clit while his index and ring fingers found the perfect rhythm, pumping in and out of me.

“Harry- I - oh my god- I’m - fuck!”

My writhing against the sheets barely seemed to register to him, he went on scolding as if it was nothing. Which, I hate to admit, made it slightly more humiliating to be turned on by the situation.

“I mean, do you really think I’m out there doing this with other people?”

I swallowed, my throat dry and my whole body shaking. Then nodded in response.

“Yes?!! Did you just say yes you think I’m fucking other people?”

“I- just- fuck!” Catching my breath, I yelled out “we’re not a couple!” My frustration wasn’t so much with Harry’s lecturing, but with the fact that I really wanted to cum.

“Cum for me, my love.” Was all he said in return.

That was the one of the more intense orgasms I’ve ever had. Even with Harry. He pulled his drenched fingers out, leaving me feeling empty inside. He brought out his fingers to my mouth, tapping my lips to signal for me to open up. He stuck his fingers in, straight to the back of my throat, making me gag instantly.

“Suck. Taste yourself on my skin.”

That alone could’ve made me cum again.

Before the ringing in my ears, or the tingling all over my body could subside, Harry brought up the crop and reigned pain down on all of my sensitive spots. From my nipples, to my stomach, thighs, armpits, then squarely in the middle of my cunt, the frequent hits, so soon after my orgasm had heightened my senses, felt unbearable. I screamed and pleaded with him to please stop, please go easy on me, but my begging fell on deaf ears. The blindfold prevented me from seeing his face, but I imagined it cold and lacking in expression.

By the time that Harry tossed the crop onto the side of the bed, I was a sobbing mess. I felt his hand reach over to my cheeks, and wipe my tears away. I flinched, not expecting his gentle touch, and assuming he was going to slap my face, but when that didn’t happen, I leaned into his hand as much as the handcuffs would allow me.

“It’s okay, dalirn’. Did so good for me. So good.”

Confident that I was alright, Harry got back up snd retrieved my vibrator, and placing it against my center immediately. It didn’t take much for me to cum, having already been wet and high off the mixture of pain and pleasure that he’d me through. Harry wrapped his fingers around my neck, squeezing lightly

“Cum.” Was barely out of his lips before I went over the edge again.

“You don’t wanna be with me, that’s fine. That’s your choice. But when you throw a fucking tantrum and accuse me of things, it hurts. It makes me feel like you don’t believe me when I tell you how much I love you and want you. No wonder you don’t want to give us a chance if you think I say these things so easily!”

Wave after wave of pleasure courses through my veins and wrecked my body head to toe. Harry never once removed the vibrator, even as I shrieked in pain and begging him to give my sensitive body a break. Gradually, his words of anger and disappointment faded away into incoherent background noise and I began to lose the feeling in my extremities and float in a sea of bliss.

I don’t recall much after that, but I do know that when I came to, I was in Harry’s arms, he was caressing my hair and kissing the sides of my face, whispering into my ears. He offered me a glass of water at some point, not trusting my shaky hands with it, he held it to my mouth and watched me take small sips with a look of pure admiration in his eyes. It might have been only a momentary flicker of hope, but in that moment, I felt the resolve to work on being better for him. I wanted to give him the trust and openness that he deserves.

#Dom!harry #matilda #dom!harry styles #dom!h #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing

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