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monstersdownthepath · 4 months

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Herald of Torag: The Grand Defender

CR 15

Lawful Good Huge Construct

Inner Sea Gods, pg. 310

Among the strangest (and least creatively named) of the Heralds, the Grand Defender is one of the rare few Heralds that did not begin their existence as a mortal follower or an elevated celestial, instead being literally crafted by their god's own two hands. In this case, if you couldn't tell by the title nor his physical appearance, the God of the Forge (and of dwarves in general), Torag. He's even stranger than most other divine constructs, though, because the Grand Defender was built with an explicit and bizarre purpose: as a tomb for the bodies of Torag's chosen dwarven heroes.

Given how the Defender is Huge, and dwarves are Small, one can only come to the conclusion that they're all jammed into its limbs and torso to form into some kind of corpse Voltron. Just... rattling around in there as it moves, hopefully so secure they don't actually move that much when it attacks. What do you think happens if it loses and then regains a limb? Does it teleport the bodies back into itself? Does Torag launch a rescue mission for what is essentially one of his most holy relics to inter them in his Herald again? Did he ever consider a less risky location? Who's to say; the poor thing's lore block is literally a sentence long, and it hasn't appeared in any AP or module, thus our information on it is tragically limited.

But if its lore block is tiny, that must mean its statblock is impressive, right? Well...

It's just an Iron Automata with some extra bells and whistles. Before you go clicking off this page, please know they're amusing bells and whistles... but it's a little disappointing to see "this ability works like it does for the Iron Automata" be pasted onto two of its four unique powers. It's an Automata Except Bigger, and with sapience so it can adjust its tactics on the fly.

It should give you a fair idea of what to expect from it, at least: A smash mook with no magic and very little defenses besides those conveyed by its Construct typing. It's got pathetically low saves (+6/+5/+8), low HP for its level (157 while most other Heralds are pushing 180 or 200), and no immunities or resistances besides it gains by being a Construct... oh, and the Iron Automata's complete Immunity to Magic, making it significantly more resilient than its statblock would suggest. Suddenly, its low saves and zero elemental resistances make a little more sense, as few offensive spells can actually pierce this impervious shield, and almost no common debuffs can work on a Construct. Electricity damage from a magic effect may slow it and prevent it from using its Full-Attack, but any magic trying to bring fire against it heals it instead, turning the most popular damage type against its holders.

It's got DR 15/Adamantine as its standard, but it's got an amusing ability called Ablative Armor that turns it into a towering, hammer-wielding matryoshka doll: As a standard action, the Defender can shed its outermost layer of metal to reveal another, very slightly smaller version of itself underneath that's made out of a different metal, swapping its DR to another source to thwart attempts to damage it. It can swap between DR 15/Adamantine, /Cold Iron, or /Silver at will, and whatever damage type its DR is bypassed by is also what types of DR its own weapons can bypass, letting it pierce several common resistances. Ablative Armor also shields it from the same death most Constructs would suffer at 0 HP, shutting down but not dying unless its body is fully destroyed and torn to pieces. 1d4 hours after it's slain, its armor automatically triggers, revealing yet another Defender under the first while restoring half its HP and allowing it time to either retreat and recover or stalk after its destroyers to end them.

Fun fact: Any armor shed from its person crumbles to powder 1d4 minutes later to prevent it from just generating infinite raw material. The only way to stop it from dissolving entirely is if the Grand Defender eats it, but we'll get to THAT tidbit later.

For now, the Grand Defender is tremendously resilient and doesn't die unless you take special precautions to put it down permanently... but on the downside, it's also the slowest Herald by a country mile, having only a 30ft movespeed. This is somewhat made up for by its immense 15ft space and 15ft reach, but its ability to keep enemies in that range is extremely limited. Stand Still is reliable due to its +31 CMB, but it can only use the feat once per round, because despite having Combat Reflexes, it has a Dexterity score of 9, meaning it can't even use the extra Attacks of Opportunity! It's got to be really choosy about when and on whom it uses Stand Still, if it even gets to do so in the first place because, again, it's got no mobility beyond its 30ft movespeed, no magical movement methods, and no capacity for Stealth beyond its ability to look like a statue when it doesn't move, so its options for getting the drop on the party are also limited. If someone doesn't want to be in melee with it and it can't catch them in its radius during the surprise round, there's virtually no way for it to force them back towards it.

And you don't want to be nearby, in case it wasn't obvious. That massive hammer deals 3d6+11 damage upwards to 4 times a round with accuracy that's a step above most of the other Heralds, allowing it to sacrifice some of it to pour into Power Attack. Its warhammer deals triple damage on a critical hit, and four blows a round make it likely to see one every odd round, or even every round if you're especially unlucky. That immense threat radius also means its Great Cleave feat can make its turns look down right comical if it's got enough targets around to let it spin and spin and spin.

Besides its hammer, it's got the poisonous cloud of an Iron Automata, exhaling a 10ft cloud of toxic gas into an adjacent space once every 1d4 rounds as a free action. Anyone who enters or begins their turn in the cloud must make a DC 19 Fortitude save or take 1d4 Con damage a round for 4 rounds... but that's not the only weapon it's got coming out of its mouth, which is an admittedly unusual sentence. Even more unusual is the Defender's novel breath weapon: Hammer Storm. This 30ft cone is made up of, as the name suggests, warhammers, blasting everyone who fails a DC 19 Reflex save for 15d6 damage and sending them flying directly away from the Defender, potentially pushing them into hazardous terrain.

These regurgitated warhammers are perfectly mundane in function and, interestingly, do not disappear, allowing creature to pick one up and wield it (the ability specifically creates 24 hammers). These leavings are what the Grand Defender uses as its ranged option, its Throw Anything feat letting it huck the weapons like lawn darts at distant or airborne foes. Hammer Storm is normally only usable once a day, but the Defender can recharge the ability by taking a minute to consume the regurgitated warhammers or an equivalent amount of metal from any source (including the shell that drops off of it when it uses Ablative Armor), allowing the Defender to recycle metal scraps or the armor of its foes into weapons for its people. One must wonder if the dwarves interred inside are actually dead and not just banging away on tiny forges to create the hammers or the next layer of the Defender.

You can read more about it here.

#Monster Spotlight #Holy Heralds Month #Pathfinder #CR 11 to 15

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floatmeintothesun · 1 year

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Frosty Warmth

Kaeya is a god of ice and constantly enjoys hanging around his favorite mortal (Kaeya x reader)

tags: fluff, gender neutral reader, little to no angst

tw: tiny mentions of stalking (only touched upon once), petnames

Scaramouche/Wanderer version

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Some people dislike the cold and ice that come with winter. Some people even wish that the season disappeared entirely because of its biting, freezing temperatures.

If you could, however, you’d make it so that winter was the only season.

After all, this is the only time when you get to see Kaeya’s touch in all of its glory. He likes to show you his craftsmanship with every snowflake that lands in the palm of your hand.

Funnily enough, they never melt, and you have a jar of the ones he’s deemed good enough to be given to you. He keeps you company in the dark nights, lighting up the snow on the ground and helping you find your way with every twist and turn.

Kaeya prefers not to be seen often, but the whispers of his sly laughter and teasing touches can be found in the very air itself. His fingers trail on the back of your neck and the sensation of his hand in yours is present whenever you need it.

You don’t know many ice gods (you only actually know one) but the one you know well isn’t as cold as you probably would have expected.

He’s kind, his jokes are infused with sweet warmth, his frigid anger is as hot as the sun, and his hands, although icy to the touch, positively melt when they intertwine with yours.

Every piece of ice that floats down from the sky is deliberate and you just know that the ones you’ve just been gifted have been handcrafted personally by him.

He appreciates it when you show obvious happiness at receiving his gifts.

You’ll always have a home in the frost. At any time, Kaeya is ready to pull you away from the mortal world whenever you need, into his own home, far beyond the reach of the normal man.

Whether it’s simply because you had a bad day and need a break or a quiet vacation, he’s more than willing to welcome you.

He’s…simply happy that you enjoy being with him, with no strings attached. He has no obligation to put up walls or masks to disguise his intent because it's you.

Kaeya doesn’t need to hide anything from you, because he knows that you won’t judge him. He’s not treated like a distant, cold god, but instead, like a person.

And to him, being valued for simply being himself without borders is something he treasures the most. You have no expectations of him and it feels so good to let loose and be himself around you after having to deal with trickery and weaving through betrayal and lies for millennia.

You are affectionately dubbed as “his most wonderful and favorite human in the history of existence” and although you may think that it’s a joke, he truly means it.

When you smile, it makes him want to smile as well. He’ll take different forms to follow you around when you're walking around your town.

Maybe a little cat, made of ice and delicate snow, or a fox to nip lightly at your heels, anything to make you laugh. The one he assumes most often however is a tall human, with hair the color of dark winter waters and an eye that twinkles like silver in the stars.

(He has two long arms that are specially tailored to wrap around you and smoosh you against his body, so why wouldn’t he like this form the best? Plus you say that he’s handsome and he positively preens from your praise.)

Your neighbors will tell the two of you that you're a lovely couple and Kaeya only grins, almost wolfishly, and agrees wholeheartedly. There’s a part of him that swells with giddiness whenever he reminds himself that he’s not drowning in loneliness anymore, that it’s you he gets to spend his time with.

Despite being hailed as the lord of cold and ice, he’s surprisingly conscious of how he can affect your body.

He’ll often come to you, dressed in multiple layers, and slowly and sneakily devise ways to transfer all of his items of clothing to you, making sure that you're warm and protected from his element.

You don’t realize that he’s managed to wrap you in his own clothing until he’s satisfied and comments on his work proudly.

That last thing he ever wants you to get is sick. He’s never personally experienced sickness before, but from others’ descriptions, he doesn’t want to be the cause of any of it.

If you do somehow catch an illness, he’s there to nurse you back to health, sitting by your bedside and randomly popping in your room to check up on you.

“You say you're fine now? Darling, I’m…just making sure you feel alright. I can’t have you collapsing from exhaustion, can I? Here, have some more water, I’ll go get you some food.” He’ll tell you after you caught the flu, fussing like a mother hen.

He’s seen the effects of sickness wither away at mortals, and he’s determined to not let that happen to you.

(If he feels attention starved he’ll pretend he has a disease that can only be cured by your hugs and kisses)

He’ll protect you thoroughly as well, his icy fury warding away any potential harm.

Oh? Someone made you cry? Well, he can’t have that. Looks like their home is completely snowed in! So what if it’s summer?

There’s someone following you home? Well, looks like they might lose a hand or two to frostbite…maybe somewhere in the near future. Perhaps even an arm.

Someone hurt you…?

Huh.

Give him names. He’ll get rid of them.

Kaeya absolutely abhors the thought of you getting hurt or being taken advantage of. You never have to worry about being afraid when going out at night because Kaeya is there, every step of the way.

He’ll follow you when you go out to get groceries or whatever supplies you need late at night, his tall and broad form shielding you from harm.

Speaking about tall and broad, he’s a good person to cuddle with in the summer…just not in the winter, much to his sad disappointment.

“I know you're already freezing, my dear…but I am starving for your attention. Just one hug. Or six. No. Holding hands is not part of the equation, nor does it count.” He’ll sigh, his voice sounding close to a whine.

Sometimes he wishes he weren’t so cold to the touch, so that it wouldn’t hurt you when you hug him for too long. If you so much as shiver when you're in his presence, get ready to be suddenly draped in large blankets that Kaeya’s managed to conjure out of nowhere.

All in all, he’s very sweet, if not a little mischievous and genuinely cares about your wellbeing more than anything else.

Oh, and he’ll tell you about his brother, who is the polar opposite of him. Sometime in the future, he’ll definitely convince Diluc to come and meet you.

(Bonus: If you start calling him sweet little pet names like he does for you, he’ll completely melt into a puddle of lovesick goop and become more clingy, practically hanging off your arm constantly for a better part of an hour. Or just wrapping his arms around you with his face buried in the crook of your neck while having you nestled firmly in his lap. You’ll be stuck there for the better part of an afternoon.)

#kaeya hcs #kaeya x gender neutral reader #Fluff #genshin impact kaeya #kaeya x reader #kaeya imagines #kaeya x you #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader

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gesternchen · 3 years

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7 Details You May Have Missed in Avatar (2009)

Avatar is undeniably one of the most beautiful, colorful, and immersive movies in cinematography, made with a lot of work put into details and backgrounds. In this short post I’d like to touch upon a couple of details that the audience and I myself may have missed when watching the movie for the first time or even rewatching it later on. If you noticed any of them before or could come up with some other, then let me know, it’d be entertaining to read what you guys think. Just a tiny disclamer: a couple of the details were found within the scenes from the extended cut, so make sure you’re familiar with it.

Number 1: Logo on Jake’s Shirt

The bar scene was initially edited out from the original cut, but was later added in the director’s one. Here we can spot Jake wearing a shirt with a logo, which anyone would barely notice. What this logo is about, is the Harley-Davidson Motor Company primarily renowned for manufacturing internationally worshiped motorbikes. Besides it supplied the U. S. Army during World War II. Marines used HD motorbikes with great pleasure back then. The company itself survived a long story of ups and downs, so it’s nice to see it still exists in 2148. The fact that Jake wears this shirt suggests that he may keep it as a piece of merch. It‘s also possible that he was keen on bikes when he was younger (God knows, maybe he still is), namely iconic Harley-Davidson‘s ones. Or he may have even ridden one.

Number 2: Sign of Jake’s Further Employment Behind the Agents’ Backs

Okay, I know it’s just a good timing, but believe me or not, it fits the moment really perfectly. The words 'work contract' emerging behind the agents’ backs almost forecast Jake being offered to sign a contract allowing him to join the Avatar Program.

Number 3: Omaticaya Are Actually Weaving

Over the years Omaticaya have been reproached with not having weaved enough. Partly, I agree, they don’t weave enough in the movie, since it’s a clan of WEAVERS producing one of a kind textiles (even 11 years after it feels like a joke that Grace Augustine portrayed by Sigourney Weaver formed the strongest bonds with the Omaticaya). Still, some footage of the clan members engaged in this activity was provided in the scene when Grace is back to the tribe after a while to meet her students. The scene also features the prominent giant loom of the clan!

Number 4: A Hexapede’s Skull?

Ever noticed a skull over Grace’s and Jake’s heads? Me too, but the question is, what animal does it belong to? The only closest one I can think of is hexapede — the skull’s shape is pretty similar. But guess what, hexapede doesn’t seem to have horns! Were the bones taken from another animal and then tied to the skull? Are these giant fangs? Claws? Pandorapedia doesn’t seem to have given us the answer yet.

Number 5: Grace is Picked Up by the Same Kids She Taught in School

One of the most heartwarming moments of the entire movie for me. Of course, it would be hard for you to come to such a conclusion by identifying the kids’ faces if you haven’t watched the extended cut, as the scene of Grace chatting with her students has been edited out from the original movie. What is also significant about this scene is the fact that five of them survived the fall of the Hometree except for only one, and it makes me sad. They must have found Grace right after the tragic event and suggested that she should stick to them and follow them on the way from the burning site.

Number 6: Golf Ball Display Case in Parker’s Office??

It seems like there are more trophies on the wall in Parker’s administration than we got to know before. Obviously, he’s got a bow, a necklace, and a couple of arrows, all taken from a certain clan. What they mean to him and RDA is a bit of a mystery: the items may symbolize the connection of the RDA Science Department to the indigenous people of Pandora or have been taken by force. If we checked other pieces on the shelves behind Parker’s back, we’d spot some interesting stuff there: plenty of awards, a certificate, and a weird ball-like model in a case next to it. What for the certificate, it’s clear that it marks the accomplishments of RDA as the pioneer space development company (I can guess by the letters in bold very much resembing the logo of the corporation). But the use of the model still remains unknown. Is it just a model of Earth? Or it is a model of Pandora moon? What if it’s a silver golf ball trophy in a display case? This could make a very nice assumption. It would tell us a bit more about Parker’s background before he became RDA’s official or about his achievements in golf on Earth in course of running his business. This would explain him being more passionate about the game, rather than serving as another cliche character.

Number 7: Jake Wearing Tsu’Tey’s Attire

Don’t you guys find this detail concerning? I mean, nothing is clearly wrong about that, we know Jake was meant to lead the clan. The thing is, how come he put on Tsu’Tey’s attire so fast? The clan’s former leader seems to have passed out just a couple of days ago, is it okay for Jake to claim himself Olo’eyktan this quickly? Would Neytiri approve such initiative? Too many questions, very few answers. Of course, I assume that Jake may wear this festive attire in honor of Tsu’Tey, who actually himself delegated leadership duties to Jake. Still, all of this happening way more rapidly than I’d prefer it to happen bothers me a bit.

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evak-fic-rec-turtleanon · 3 years

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Evak Fics - Pining

I’m posting half of this list first because I started it a long time ago and it’s taking me a while to go through all the fics. So I will update with more later.

*** Mutual Pining *** Pining - I might put mutual pining under pining if we don't see much of the other person pining. *** Bonus - The pining is not between Evak

For the anon from this ask.

I will try my best to separate out the mutual pining fics but I think it will be tricky if it's not tagged as that. So bear with me and let me know of any mistakes or fics I missed out on.

. First Posting : 11 July 2021. Under 15k fics. .

******* Mutual Pining *******

Even the Illustrator by eavk (SERIES, 3 fics) - An AU where Even’s an illustrator who draws what kids describe to him for YouTube, and Isak is the smitten father of a six year old with a wild imagination.

Postcards by HedwigsTalons (1k words) - Isak's wall is covered in postcards. Isak is supportive of Even's career and he cherishes every postcard but the long distance relationship hurts.

Feelings Come and Go, But Not With You by ultimatelawrence (1.9k words) - It was meant to just be a holiday romance. A fling. Nothing like love. But now it was six months later and Even was still pining over the angel he had met in Paris.

let's pretend into forever by Bellakitse (2.3k words) - “Let me get this straight,” Even starts. “You lied to your boss about having a boyfriend, told her it was me, and now you need me to go with you to your science nerd dinner?”

i will love you until the very, very end (and you were my best friend) by traumatic (2.4k words) - Isak and Even share something in the cool waters of a spring fed pool that no one, not even their fiancées, could ever understand.

Breathe Me by photographer_of_thoughts (4.5k words) - A high school reunion brings Isak and Even together after ten years, and neither of them can forget what happened when they were both seventeen.

Everything comes back to you by MermaidsandMermen (4.8k words) - Light pining. A dribble oneshot for Halloween, full of fluff and Even and Isak and a tiny pinch of angst. Because we need some Halloween fluff. That's all.

Fuck Tha Police by MacksDramaticShenanigans (5.2k words) - “This,” Eskild said, spinning the photograph around so everyone could see it, “is a picture of the latest piece of vandalism from our favorite little street punk.” he finished with a heavy sigh. They are both cops.

i tried to be strong but i lost it (i knew it was wrong, i’m beyond it) (6.3k words) - Even has a thing for his intern, Isak has a thing for his boss, they're both a bit clueless and their friends just want them to get their shit together.

all I see is you by littlemovie (Lejla) (7.4k words) - “Aren’t you gonna ask me why I’m a bad person?” Isak somehow whined and demanded at the same time. Jonas blew out a breath in amusement, which made the dark curls on his forehead move with his breath. “I’m guessing it has something to do with that guy, Even, from the coffeeshop?”

Addicted by endlessandinfinite (8k words) - They’re both completely, overwhelmingly, and incredibly...addicted. Best friends to lovers.

Calleth You, Cometh I by Kollakolan (8.4k words) - “Isak!” Mikaels pipes up. “Didn´t you two have a thing?” he turns to Even. A thing, Even thinks to himself. Yes, Isak and him definitely had a thing. They actually had a low-key thing going for years, but it never really turned into something more. The timing was never right.

In Vino Veritas by Sabeley (9.9k words) - After seven years apart, Isak wakes up to find Even in his bed and a wedding ring on his finger.

Let Me by GayaIsANerd (10.6k words) - Summer brings a lot of things. The smell of sunscreen. The sound of children playing in the shallow part of the lake. The taste of cold beer. The sweet tang of weed. But most importantly, summer brings Isak.

Something Borrowed, Something Blue by BluebeardsWife (10.8k words) - Fake dating AU, you know the drill. Even hires Isak to pretend to be his boyfriend at his ex's wedding. This Means Nothing to Me by cuteandtwisted (10.8k words) - Isak and Even are friends and roommates who don't believe in love anymore (after they both get dumped by other people) until they do. Aka the Friends/Roommates-To-Lovers Don't you let me go by solarpower21 (12.2k words) - In this universe, Isak and Even are roomates and nothing more. Except that there is something more between them and they both know that but are too stubborn to admit it. Too bad it takes a very unfortunate event for them to face the truth. Burn Down The Disco by TheGirlNoOneKnows5 (12.2k words) - A 'Black Mirror: Hang The DJ' AU in which Isak and Even decide to rebel against a futuristic dating system that pairs users up with various people in order to find their perfect match.

La Petite Mort by EvenbechNeiheim (13.4k words) - Even Bech Næsheim is one of those cool and very hot media students at Uni who might just got the task to make a film project. Eskild is the best wingman and things like accidently falling in love with an asshole media student happen. Based on the FIRST KISS YouTube video that gave the internet an entire meltdown.

when your heart is bleeding, i'm coming to get you by orphan_account (13.5k words) - Isak doesn't exactly expect his hookup from last week to be the love advice columnist at the school newspaper he's working at. He also doesn't expect to fall even harder for him than he already has, which is a shame, really, since Even's crushing on someone else.

Heal My Heart for Christmas by iwritetropesnottragedies (recklesslee) (13.5k words) - It’s been ten years since Isak left his small town for the big city of Oslo with his father. He hardly even thought of his time there anymore. Until he received a letter from his mother asking him to come home for Christmas for the first time since he had left.

Love in the Time of COVID: Battlestar Edition by sweetasmaple (14k words) - Isak and Even find each other again during the COVID-19 lockdown, one Battlestar Galactica episode at a time.

******* Pining *******

never seemed so alive by retts (1k words) - Nothing special, just four letters strung together to spell out E V E N but they made Isak's heart race and his face blush and his hands tremble.

Hopeless by waitineedaname (1k words) - Light pining. There was no way in hell Isak would be able to talk to Even. He was tall and cool and handsome, and Isak was pretty sure talking to him would make him spontaneously combust.

i could probably just curl up in you. by milominderbinder (1.3k words) - Isak is away at a cabin with the guys when he gets a text from Even. 'hey, babe, did you take my favourite hoodie?' He is, of course, outraged that Even would accuse him of such treachery. The fact that Isak is wearing the hoodie at that very moment has nothing to do with it.

stuck on you (what did i do?) by itjustkindahappened (1.8k words) - It’s not that Even doesn’t try to be friendly with him—Isak just makes it so hard. Whenever Even approaches, Isak either makes up a fumbling excuse to leave, or just becomes really stiff and refuses to acknowledge Even’s existence.

now and forever (i will be your man) by thekardemomme (2.2k words) -Warning for pain. 3 times isak kisses even +1

i be up in the gym just working on my fitness by orphan_account (2.3k words) - Even knows that he's quite literally going to die when he finds his crush sweating on an elliptical, reading a book with his glasses slipping down his nose.

You know where I stay by nofeartina (2.4k words) - Warning for pain. Isak is so beautiful first thing in the morning. When he still has creases in his face from the pillow, when his face is red and puffy from sleep, his hair all messed up and curly. Even prefers this Isak. This is his Isak, this is only for him.

won't you be my livewire by itjustkindahappened (3.2k words) - "i've been tryin to grab your attention in class for over half an hour by poking you and throwing things onto your desk and you're refusing to acknowledge me and gdi all i wanted to do was tell you that you look cute and now it's gone too far and i can't go back"

Cookies and Cream by GayaIsANerd (3.5k words) - Isak has a crush on the barista. He's too scared to do anything about it, but luckily there's a blizzard coming up.

i can feel the weather in my bones by EvenbechNeiheim (3.7k words) - Isak and Even are childhood friends. There’s a boyfriend sweater and Isak is just desperate to wear it.

On the silver screen by Lokkanel (4k words) - Isak was really not in the mood for this. He had a long week at work, and all he wanted was to relax with his friend, drink a few beers, maybe even smoke some weed and just chill. But no. When Jonas called him to say that he won tickets to the coolest indie film festival in Oslo, Isak knew he could forget his plans for a quiet and simple weekend.

I want to love you (in my own language) by fauu_stine (4k words) - “Okay. Maybe I’m not happy,” he admits in a resigned whisper. “Do you need a shrink discussion or a best friend discussion?” "I think- I think it’s more of a friend with benefits kind of talk."

Don't be an ass by Julieseven (4.1k words) - Even really tried to forget about him. It started out as a harmless little crush, really. He saw him at the karaoke bar SYNG one night, singing "I don't want to miss a thing" at the top of his lungs, clearly drunk out of his mind, but looking like an angel with his messy dark blond locks and crooked smile.

Little Black Book by Laika (4.3k words) - Isak Valtersen is studying his third year at the University of Oslo and having the time of his life. Enter Evy Bech Næsheim, straight out of Nissen, in his stockings, mini skirts and bubblegum scented lip gloss.

cracks in our foundation by towonderland72 (4.8k words) - “You know, like a thousand years ago, men used to wear makeup?” Even asks, as Isak gapes at himself.

Safest With You (Green Curtains) by eavk (5.3k words) - Isak keeps staying up too late studying at the library, but luckily there's an escort service that gives students a buddy to walk with to keep safe at night.

the one with the prom video by thekardemomme (5.5k words) - Even has been in love with Isak since they were younger, but he never intended for Isak to find out this way.

Senses by Lokkanel (5.5k words) - Sight, hearing, smell, touch, taste… Or Even falling in love with Isak, one sense at a time.

you're the one i wanna grey with (5.6k words) - They've only been dating a month, so Isak shouldn't be pathetic enough to miss Even this much when he's only gone for a weekend.

Orion's Nebula by thekardemomme (5.6k words) - Light pining I think. Even Bech Næsheim was enrolled in an astronomy class for one reason and one reason only: the cute ass boy he saw standing in the registration line.

with the taste of a poison paradise by chasingflower (6k words) - It’s routine by now. Isak hangs out with his friends during the day and at night he kisses the Dream-Even that lives on the other side of the door in his living room, and basks in the warm fuzzy feelings he gets as a result of the attention. Coraline Au.

How to Get Your Man - A Plan By Even Bech Naesheim by Evakkk (6.1k words) - When Magnus drops a big secret in front of Even... Even comes up with a brilliant plan to get Isak to reveal his true feelings. All it takes is one little lie, and one crazy family reunion.

To Burn With Desire by photographer_of_thoughts (6.1k words) - AU in which Isak and Even are neighbours and Isak's father has a secret job that unintentionally helps Isak realize he's in love with his best friend.

Watermelon Sugar by MermaidsandMermen (6.6k words) - A little tribute to fruit and touching. To sex, and friendships and finding what you were looking for all along. And of course inspired by Harry Styles latest video offering, just because.

The Fake Boyfriend App by Crazyheart (7.2k words) - AU where Isak is desperately pining for his flatmate Even, and downloads a fake boyfriend app to get over him. When he discovers that the Fake boyfriend is a human, and not a bot, he is sceptical.

That look you give that guy by Lokkanel (7.4k words) - Isak and Even love each other in secret. It is almost thrilling at first, but when hiding and lying to their friends begin to take a toll on Even, Isak decides to end it all. He thinks he has taken the right decision, until Even eventually moves on with someone else.

my longing drives me crazy for you (7.7k words) - Isak's mum worries, Isak makes bad life decisions and Even loves Isak. It's a fake dating au.

I'm Always Here by nofeartina (9.3k words) - “Did you know that Even is working this summer? At that pool at the Plaza?” Jonas says. Isak actually sits up in excitement at this. “Fuck yeah!” Oh, a pool. Actual water they could go swimming in and cool down. And also, Even.

a garden for your love by eggsntoast (9.3k words) - He’s learning to breathe with them, even if he ends up with a floor full of violets by the end of it all. They remind Isak of him, and that’s all that matters. That’s what makes it worse. or: a Hanahaki au ft. Isak heavily pining after Even. Lots of angst.

I wrote an angry letter to the void, and the void responded (9.5k words) - Monday comes, and the book is still there. Isak looks around, content to find the floor practically empty, before giving the book the finger. Fuck that book. - a book finds it's way to Isak's sacred study spot. this proves to be a major distraction.

a constant state of closeness by chevythunder (9.7k words) - “What is it about this dude, anyway?” Elias asks. “You’ve barely even talked to him, right?” “I don’t know,” Even says. “I just got this feeling, you know? Just- I want to make sure he’s okay and safe and… stuff.” - It starts with a hug.

Is This Our Time? by Evakkk (9.9k words) - This is a world where everyone is born with an indistinguishable soulmate mark... it only changes into something recognizable, once you have physical contact with your soulmate, and it's always something meaningful to the relationship. Both partners will bear the same mark. Isak is about to turn 18... and he's the only one in his friend group who still hasn't found their soulmate. But what happens when he goes out one night, gets drunk... and wakes up with his soulmate mark?

Is This What You Wanted? by cuteandtwisted (9.9k words) - Isak is filthy rich and Even is a hardworking male model who just got signed to his father's agency. Even gets an awful offer from Isak: one night with him in exchange for money, and begins to despise him. Little does he know that everything he thinks he knows about Isak is wrong.

Just like in the movies by Lokkanel (10.5k words) - As he began taking in his surroundings, Isak realized he was in one of those small theaters that programmed independent and artsy movies, even old black and white films. He was ready to turn around and walk away when he heard a deep voice say, “Halla.”

my tiny heartbeat in his ear by riyku (11k words) - Now, about a week after the longest day of the year, the empty house across the street has stopped being empty. most beautiful things by scarletbluebird (12.7k words) - This fic is a whole ass journey. Warning for pain. This isn’t a fairytale, Isak tells himself. Even is standing at the bend in the road. He looks like a metaphor for immortal life: the youth a god would kill for. Ambrosia eyes, the universe trapped in the curve of his mouth. He looks like every warning from his mother about strangers you run into after dark.

One week by Lokkanel (12.8k words) - This thing going on between Isak and Even, whatever they called it - fuckbuddies, friends with benefits - was simple, fun, nothing more. They were friends, they were both free to do whatever they wanted with other people. They’d just meet and have sex whenever they felt like it. Simple. Until what was bound to happen eventually did and Even fell for Isak.

Plum by Jamz24 (13.2k words) - Femme!teacher!Even asks masculine! plumber!Isak to fix a broken shower on a scorching hot summer day...And if you think it sounds like the start of a porn film you're absolutely right! There's LOADS of smut but ... with LOTS of feelings

Never be the same by nofeartina (14.2k words) - It starts with a bet - one of those really stupid ones: can they last an entire month without any kind of sex?It’s been 22 days – and Even is dying.

Somewhere I’ve never been by MinilocIsland (14.6k words) - The first time Even meets Jonas' best friend, nothing goes according to plan.

If I Should Fall Behind by MinilocIsland (14.7k words) - The plan for tonight had been crystal clear. Stay close to his best friend, and steal her away if needed. Hold her hand through the ordeal of meeting Noora again for the first time in years. Then Even shows up – and suddenly, nothing goes the way it was supposed to.

All I Ever Wanted by MinilocIsland (14.8k words) - Isak is such a good friend. Probably the best there is. How else could he explain that he's agreed to join Magnus to this place deep in the woods for six full days of silence, meditation, and utter boredom? One thing, he knows. There's nothing exciting for him there. Right? Or: the silent retreat AU.

******* Bonus *******

Season 3: Jonas by Laika_the_husband (WIP, SBB 2021 fic) - There is a scene in the end of the script for season 1, where Jonas and Isak kiss each other on a dare. This story is a retelling of season 3 in a universe, where that kiss happened and completely changed the way Jonas sees Isak. Written in Jonas' POV, the story examines sexuality, love, friendship and coming to terms with never getting the boy you shouldn't have fallen for in the first place.

What the fuck is wrong with me? by notanugget (11.6k words) - The five times isak felt guilty for being in love and the one time he didn’t

thanks for the weed, thanks for everything by evak1isak (13.1k words) - Jokael. Jonas' dealer has moved to Denmark, and Even recommends his friend's weed. What Jonas didn't expect, though, was to develop a crush on a boy, on Mikael.

******* WIP *******

Baby, why do you have to shine so bright? by Lilacpotter - Even knew he was radiant, and he was used to people always wanting to be around him, enchanted by his captivating words and glowing smiles, as if he was the tantalising sun. But then one day, he comes across someone who shines much brighter than the sun itself in Even’s eyes.

Lonely Hearts Club by EndingsNotTheStory - The Hearts Club. A show run by Isak and his 3 friends. He's kind of had enough with hearing about people's relationship issues and giving advice. Until the guy from his theatre class and Isak's totally not crush Even calls, dealing with relationship issues. pining

#evak fic rec #skam fic rec #pining #mutual pining #first half of the list #to be updated

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faolan-red-eagle · 2 years

Note

Soft OC asks that r making me go Apeshit: 1, 2, 6, 12, 14, 15, 16, 17, and 20 please? I love soft oc facts,, -@drunkmiraak on my main :3

1. Is your OC a hugger or do they not like that sort of affection? Do they initiate a hug or get roped into them?

Oh, Ru is a hugger, all the way, 200% of the time. If you are just Existing near him he will be giving you a hug within five minutes. If you Look Sad near him you get a lifting-you-off-the-ground hug and a bonus forehead kiss.

2. Does your OC have any endearing qualities?

Hugs. Sleepy cuddles. Very generous with the forehead kisses. He can sing very well. Also he has that kitten sneeze which is just adorable coming out a six foot brick shithouse of a man lmao.

6. What calms them down most when they're anxious?

Very tight hugs or just laying down on top of him is the best. A heavy coat also works if you’re not comfy with doing that. Humming and singing (specifically off-key, it gives him something to focus on if the notes aren’t right) sometimes works, but that’s more hit-and-miss tbh.

12. What's a childhood memory they cherish most?

That’s a tie between trying to learn the steps of a ritual dance with his mom and when his other dad taught him to use a bow for the first time.

14. What's the most touching gift they've ever received?

Ru has a lot of anxiety around horses, so Lucia drew him a picture of a horse to protect him from the really mean horses and help him with his fear of horses, and he cherishes that drawing immensely. It has pride of place in his home, and he eventually gets the drawing tattooed on his arm so he’ll always have proof of his daughter’s love with him.

15. What's their favourite item of clothing?

A chunky knit sweater his uncle made for him before he left Karthspire. It’s a very soft rabbit fur/sheep wool blend dyed a soothing dark green that reminds him of the forest around his home.

16. What's their most treasured possessions?

Ruaidri doesn’t own a whole lot of Stuff, but he definitely keeps his bow meticulously kept because it originally belonged to his second dad. The drawing Lucia gave him and a warped piece of silver that used to be a tiny Hircine idol are also very well taken care of.

17. Do they have a comfort food? Who makes it best?

It takes him a while to really figure out what he likes, because his first instinct is to just eat whatever’s there due to growing up with some food insecurity, but once he settles down a bit and there’s peace, he finds out that he really, really likes pie. Custard pies, meat pies, fruit pies, doesn’t matter, if it’s pie he’s gonna want some. Lydia makes the best cherry pie he’s ever tasted, and Ghorza makes a fantastic lamb-and-potato pie. A street vendor in Solitude makes a delicious lemon custard pie, and it’s about the only expensive food he’ll actually buy for himself.

20. Is your character a bookworm?

Ru is dyslexic, and usually can’t sit still and focus long enough to parse out a book anyway, but he does enjoy it when Lucien reads to him, it’s very calming. He’s generally more of a hands-on guy though; he doesn’t get how people can just sit in the same spot for hours with a book and ignore everything happening around them. (He does kind of think that it might be nice to be able to do every once in a while, because he is unfortunately extremely hypervigilant, but mostly it just seems like those people are setting themselves up to get attacked or robbed.)

#thank you for the ask!#ruaidri ap cynwrig #my ocs #thank you for enabling me to ramble about my son lol

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lifeofkaze · 3 years

Text

October Writing Challenge 2021 - Day 5

Zadie Taylor-Allen belongs to my wonderful bestie @the-al-chemist, Farid Sikander (in mention) belongs to @carewyncromwell

Dedicated to the wine club @kc-and-oc @the-al-chemist @whatwouldvalerydo You know why🌻🌻🌻

It was common knowledge that time moved slower when one wasn’t enjoying themselves, but Reva Amari had never felt the truth of it more ardently than on this sunny winter afternoon. It had snowed the night before, and the grounds of Hogwarts were covered in a thick layer of perfectly white, powdery snow.

Reva could hear the screams and laughter from the other students enjoying themselves in the wintery wonderland through the high windows of the dusty library. She thought wistfully about her new snowboard waiting for her in her dormitory; how much fun would it be to pile up some of the snow and just whisk down the makeshift mound on it. She would even settle for throwing snowballs at the Slytherin Quidditch team; she wasn’t picky at all, as long as it got her out of this lifeless, boring library.

“Reva, concentrate,” the voice of her friend and honourary older sister Danielle broke her out of her musings. “You need to pass this test with flying colours if you don’t want to get taken off the Quidditch team.”

“I know,” Reva sighed deeply. “Give me some credit for trying.”

“I don’t see you trying that hard,” her brother Dylan jumped in. He didn’t even bother raising his eyes from his book about Potions, but he didn’t need to; he knew Reva was rolling her eyes at him without looking.

“It’s not my fault History of Magic is the most boring subject in existence,” Reva complained. “I don’t even know how you manage to stay awake during class.”

“I don’t,” Dylan said flatly, “I get Dana’s notes from the year before.”

Reva opened her mouth to protest but shut it again when she saw the withering glare of the librarian directed her way. “What are you lecturing me about then,” she hissed with a lowered voice, “you’re no better than me.”

“The best notes don’t help if you don’t put the work in to memorise them,” Dana said leniently. “You can have them as well, but that alone won’t do you no good.”

“I need someone to make this more interesting. Right now, this nonsense is drier than the desert,” Reva complained. “Maybe I could ask Farid for help?”

Dylan did look up from his book at her words. “You’re going to do no such thing,” he said with a surprising sharpness in his voice.

Reva smirked at having successfully gotten under her brother’s skin; served him just right. She wanted to tell him so, but was cut short when an enchanted piece of parchment fluttered into her view and landed before her on her textbook.

Curious, Reva picked it up and unfolded it; she recognised the handwriting of her best friend Zadie immediately. The note contained only two words:

Code Sunflower

Next to her, Dana leaned over to take a look; she frowned. “Code Sunflower? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Reva didn’t reply; she was busy stuffing her things into her bag as fast as she could. She was halfway up from her seat when Dana got hold of her arm. “We’re not done here. I’m your prefect and your friend, and I promised to make sure you’ll pass that test,” she said sternly.

“I know, I’ll do it tomorrow, promise,” Reva said hurriedly and gently freed her arm from Dana’s hand. “But this is kind of an emergency.”

Before either Dana or Dylan could say anything else, Reva snatched up her bag and quickly left the library. She made a short detour to the Gryffindor Tower to drop off her things and retrieve some others from her dormitory before she made her way up to the Astronomy Tower. It was one of Zadie’s favourite places and if she was troubled, chances were good she would be there.

As it turned out, Reva had been right. She found her best friend leaned against the wooden railing running around the platform that circled the highest tower of the castle. She was bundled up in a thick coat and her blue-and-bronze Ravenclaw scarf to counter the sharp winds up here. Reva stuffed her own crimson-and-gold scarf deeper into her jacket and buried her hands in her pockets as she stood next to Zadie.

“You were quick,” Zadie said with a small smile.

“It’s Code Sunflower,” Reva replied, “you don’t make someone wait when it’s Code Sunflower.”

“I suppose so,” Zadie sighed and fell silent. A troubled expression crossed her face and Reva waited for her to continue. When she didn’t, Reva nudged her gently into the side.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” she asked gently.

Zadie looked out over the snowy grounds and extended her hand. A lone snowflake floated down from the grey sky and landed on her palm. Both girls watched as it slowly melted and left only a tiny puddle of water behind.

“I had Potions earlier,” Zadie said eventually.

“The worst,” Reva said immediately, but fell silent when Zadie gave her a look. “Sorry, go on.”

“You know I’m no good at Potions,” she sighed, “but I was really trying today. But I still messed up. I added the shrivelfig before the valerian sprigs, and all the wrong amounts, too. I don’t know how it happened, my head was somewhere else. My potion started expanding and flowed over the cauldron and the workbench and literally everywhere. It was a disaster.”

“Oh no,” Reva said sympathetically, “that can happen to the best of us, though.”

“I know,” Zadie said passionately, “but that’s not what the professor seemed to think. He was so mad at me. ‘I’m clearly teaching the worse Taylor-Allen girl’ were his words to be exact.”

Zadie sniffed ever so slightly and a wave of righteous anger flooded Reva. How did that old bugger dare talk to Zadie like that? Only because her grades weren’t as perfect as those of her older sister, it didn’t mean Zadie was stupid, or untalented, or anything else but a fantastic witch.

“Screw him,” Reva said fiercely, “he has no idea what he’s talking about. So what, you don’t have a straight O in Potions like Phoebe does. Neither do I. Neither do Dylan or Dana or Victoire. The only person I know who did is Dana’s mum, if I think about it. But that doesn’t mean we don’t know what we’re doing, or makes us stupid or anything like that. Don’t you dare think this even for a second or I’ll give you an earful. You’re brilliant, and talented and great, just in a different way than Phoebe.”

She saw the small smile forming on Zadie’s face and Reva continued. “I very much doubt Phoebe would have been able to block my throws as annoyingly well as you did in our last housematch. That really hurt my pride, you know.”

Zadie threw her head back and laughed, the sound ringing clear into the winter sky. “You’d have transported her right through the hoop. If she had managed to stay on her broom in the first place.”

Reva grinned. “That’s my girl talking.”

She reached into her pocket and produced a small, silver flask she offered to her friend. Zadie raised an eyebrow sceptically. “Do I want to know where you got that from?”

“A gift from my godmother,” Reva laughed, “she sent it over the other day.”

“You know that’s probably 100 % forbidden,” Zadie grinned as she took the flask from Reva and took a small swig.

“I have a reputation to uphold after all,” Reva smirked and took a sip herself. The coffee liqueur burned delightfully and was much milder than she had anticipated. She immediately felt a little warmer.

“Speaking of which,” Reva said slowly, while she furtively pushed the snow on the railing in front of her together, “try blocking this.”

She quickly gathered up the snowball she’d formed and threw it at Zadie. Before Zadie could even react, it had hit her square in the face and Reva couldn’t help but laugh at her friend’s dumbfounded expression.

“You didn’t do that for nothing,” Zadie exclaimed before gathering her own load of snow from the ground and throwing it after Reva, who just so managed to duck away from it.

The sky was already darkening when they made their way down from the Astronomy Tower, drenched, shivering and with their faces feeling like they were on fire.

Reva’s cheeks were still flushed from both the cold and the coffee liqueur when she dropped into her seat next to Dana and Dylan in the Great Hall for dinner. Dana looked her up and down with an amused expression, taking in her dishevelled state.

“Is your emergency solved?”

“You could say so, yes,” Reva smiled and helped herself to some deliciously warm soup. She shuddered when she warmed her hands over the steaming bowl.

“Wonderful, just in time to study with me after dinner,” Dana continued. She laughed when Reva pulled a face. “Sorry kiddo, I’m not letting you off the hook so easily. And there won’t be another cryptic message getting you out of this one.”

Dana’s expression turned curious. “What was it about anyway?”

Reva blew against her spoon and winced when she burned her tongue. “It was a message from Zadie.”

“Naturally,” Dylan muttered from the other side of the table, but Reva and Dana both paid him no mind.

“Code Sunflower is when you’re feeling troubled because someone said something stupid and you need to vent,” Reva explained before trying her soup a second time. It warmed her even better than the liqueur had.

Dana blinked at her in surprise. “Why sunflowers, though? They are lovely.”

Reva dipped her head back and laughed at the memory of how they had come up with that code in the first place.

“Trust me,” she giggled, “you don’t want to know.”

#hpma #magic awakened #harry potter magic awakened #reva amari #zadie taylor allen #october writing challenge 2021 #october writing challenge

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mostly-delusional · 3 years

Text

Maybe in another life

The story of why the moon changes shape.

'Once upon a time' is how every story is put into words. But this is a tale from before time itself. This is a story of an era when the universe was a colossal void filled with darkness, where time held no relevance and any form of life existed in a comparatively tiny, point sized orb.

The rondure was home to billions of shimmering souls. The Supernals. Their greyish-silver skin that glimmered along with their graceful movements would appear, in today's time, like nothing more than a phantom. But unlike ghosts, their bodies were very much solid, as human in appearance as possible.

Although there was no higher being that subjugated these entities, the one amongst them who was the beholder of unimaginable power was considered to be of more importance than rest of the population. Dierdre was the only one of her kind, her glittering derma coruscating wisps of silver light. Her magical abilities unmatched, even by their creator himself. And she had claimed herself as the queen.

It is often said that power corrupts people, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Dierdre had fallen victim to the seductive tendencies of the power she possessed. Her mind and heart were scorched as one, turned into nothing but a lump of malefic intents.

Among the billions that resided in that realm, two souls were set apart from the rest. Aelius, the sun and Cynthia, the moon. They were different, and everyone knew it.

Aelius was handsome from the depth of his amber coloured eyes to the gentle expressions of his voice. His presence was striking, but in a peaceful sort of manner. The usual silver dermis of the Supernals seemed to have adopted a golden tinge inside Aelius. His aureate skin set him apart from the rest of the population and brought unwanted attention.

Cynthia, on the other hand, exuded close to none of the silver light possessed by the Supernals. Despite of being exceptionally beautifully, she was...plain, when compared to the rest of her kind. The lack of radiance pushing her to the sidelines. Cynthia had spend an eternity in melancholy solitude. Without friends and family.

But soon, things had taken a different turn, when one evening she had ventured out to woods that occupied the outskirts of the city she lived in. Lost in her own misery, Cynthia had failed to notice Aelius sneaking past the massive trees and approaching the stone bench she was perched atop.

It was the beginning of an unusual friendship that left the Supernals questioning the workings of the world. The dull and lonely Cynthia had captured the attention of bright and handsome Aelius. The moon and the sun had brewed a bond that seemed highly unlikely to exist in a realm ruled by a queen of the likes of Dierdre.

Unbeknownst to him, Aelius had succeeded in capturing the attention of the queen, his enchanting beauty luring Dierdre into the tangled world of love. The queen who had once thought herself to be far above such petty emotions now yearned for the sun.

Alas, we always crave for things we cannot have.

The friendship between Aelius and Cynthia had bloomed into something more deep and sacred. In the echoing loneliness of Cynthia's soul, Aelius had managed to make a home for himself and drive away her sorrows in the best ways he could. At the same time, Cynthia had calmed the chaos that thrived inside him. Providing him a few moments of peace, away from the attention he had come to loathe.

The news of this blossoming romance had easily made its way to Dierdre. She was informed that the man she loved was often seen in the company of the outcast, Cynthia. And there were rumours that the pair was in love. Furious by the revelation, Dierdre called for an assembly, demanding the presence of every Supernal in the arena where important events took place.

Aelius and Cynthia were on top of the hill that overlooked the entire capital when a group of guards had dragged them all the way to the arena. They had struggled to free themselves from the deadly grips of the royal guards, Aelius constantly pleading with them to let Cynthia go. Inquiring about where they were being taken and why. But their captors had remained stoic and refused to answer any of the questions.

They were taken onto the raised platform which overlooked the rest of the arena, occupied by the shining profiles of the Supernals. The crowd murmured amongst itself, trying to decipher the reason behind the sudden gathering.

"My friends," the mass had silenced as soon as the first syllable had left Dierdre's lips. Even though no one was letting it on, the presence of the queen settled an uncomfortable chill in their bones. She had her hands slightly raised at her sides, her lips twisted in a satisfied smile upon the seeing commoners squirm under her gaze. "Our kind's existence in this realm has been everlasting and we have thrived with peace, love and harmony. We have always valued the brave, and cherished the loyal. As your queen, it is my duty to punish those who betray the crown or deny it any kind of service."

The crowd stirred, tension visible on every silver face. "Today, we have gathered here to look into the crimes committed by one of our own. The outcast...Cynthia." The named had rolled off her tongue as if it tasted like poison. "All of us were made aware of my affections towards the handsome and kind Aelius and that I wished to marry him. But the outcast violated my wishes by wooing him with her... unnatural abilities. As a punishment for her cri—"

"Cynthia has committed no crime," Aelius had bit out from where he stood, flanked by the royal guards. His voice echoed in the arena, eyes glaring into the Queen's direction, his usually gentle demeanor replaced by a cold and calm attitude.

The queen's head snapped to him, her eyebrows raised. "Even though interrupting your queen is worthy of punishment, I shall forgive you for this. My dear Aelius, pray tell us, what do you mean by that?"

"I mean," Aelius had began, his teeth grinding together with building rage, "that Cynthia committed no crime. She did not woo me. It was my decision to make. And I certainly do not wish to marry you."

Anger flashed in Dierdre's eyes but she had quickly masked it with a cold and sinister smile. "I'm sure you don't mean that, my love."

"I stand by every word I said. I will not associate with you in any manner. You are nothing but cruel."

The crowd had responded accordingly, numerous gasps echoing one after another in the arena. Aelius had soon realised his mistake, his eyes widened in panic, looking back at Cynthia who had frozen in her spot.

Dierdre was not known to have mercy upon her subordinates. Her methods of dealing with traitors could only be described as evil and no one lived to tell the tales of what they had experienced in the dark dungeons of the castle.

But this was not just about speaking ill of the crown or committing treason. Aelius had striked on her heart, shattering all her hopes of having a future with him. Not being able to see any sense in that moment, Dierdre had done the unthinkable. She had placed a curse on the entire race of her people.

It is believed that her rage had taken such huge toll on the realm that it had exploded into the void, scattering around like pieces of a broken vase, not to be mended again.

The Supernals were forced to give up their true form and were turned into massive balls of light known as the stars. The people closest to Aelius were stripped of their radiance and left as barren balls of dirt, spinning around in the emptiness, now identified as the planets.

The couple in question had themselves suffered a great deal. Aelius was to remain the biggest and brightest star, glowing in the center of the newly created universe. His body transformed into a huge sphere of unbearable heat. Cynthia was given a smaller form, dull and barren as ever.

"You shall live the rest of your lives with each other. Close but not enough. Within each other's reach, but powerless to actually claim your love."

Ever since, the sun and the moon have satiated their desire for each other through stolen glances. Their game of hide and seek causing never-ending pain to both of them. Aelius' family and friends revolved around him, wanting to comfort him but being unable to do so due to the fear of destroying themselves.

In all these years spent apart, Aelius had found a way to express his love to Cynthia, even if it was from a distance. He provided her with his light everyday, his warmth washing over her, assuring her that one day they will reunite. Not right now, but maybe in another life.

Cynthia basked basked in the sunlight, but even that would not be enough most days. There were times when only some part of her could feel the presence of Aelius and once in a while he vanished from her view completely. But there were also days when she could clearly look at him, feel his presence all around her. Those days gave her hope that maybe not all was lost. And maybe they could be reunited again.

Prompt list

English is not my first language and this is unedited, so forgive me for any mistakes. I'll re-read it soon and maybe change certain bits.

Feedback is really appreciated <3

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opbackgrounds · 4 years

Note

Oooh can you do a post on the tenryubito?

So I feel like this is going to be an unpopular opinion, but I pity the Celestial Dragons.

That isn’t to say that they aren’t all (mostly) abhorrently evil megalomaniacs with an institutionally enforced god complex who treat the torture of human(oids) with the same blasé disregard as a kid pulling the wings off of a fly, but there’s a part of me that just finds them pathetic. The Celesital Dragons are a group of people who have the world as their silver platter, yet are so small-minded and infantile they literally trap themselves in a tiny bubbles because they’re too scared to breathe the same air as the so-called lesser races.

There was a time when I didn’t think much of the Celestial Dragons because I thought that Oda’s exaggerated storytelling had gone one step too far. They were too cartoonishly evil to be believable—nothing but a bunch of mustache-twirling villains too ridiculous to be taken seriously—and though I found Luffy punching one in the face very cathartic I wasn’t terribly invested in the World Nobility as a worldbuilding element.

But if there’s something I’ve realized as I’ve gotten older, it’s that there is a depressingly-large number of cartoonishly evil people who through no merit of their own find themselves wielding enormous amounts of power, and the Celestial Dragons are more realistic than I ever thought possible.

The Dragons are One Piece’s exploration of the idea that power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Eight hundred years is a ridiculously long time to be in control of a single territory, let alone an organization as massive as the World Government. To put it in perspective a little, eight hundred years ago was when the Magna Carta was signed. Even real-world dynasties tend to have major fluctuations in power over the course of generations, but It seems that the World Government—and by extension the Celestial Dragons—have for eight centuries kept an iron hold over what they consider theirs.

Which just happens to be everything.

The actual origins of the CD tie into series lore and will probably play a big part in Robin learning about the True History, but I fall in the camp that believes that they originated on the moon because 1) they’re the Celestial Dragons 2) there’s gotta be some significance to Enel’s cover story, and 3) Oda clearly modeled their hairstyles and clothing off of the King and Queen of the Moon from the movie The Adventures of Baron Muchausen

Which, if true, makes them a foreign imperialistic force that used military might and a totalitarian regime that specializes in censorship and terror in order to turn the One Piece world into a giant colony while presenting itself as an egalitarian, unifying coalition where no single ruler is fit to sit on the Empty Throne.

And to think, there are some people who don’t think One Piece is political.

What’s really fascinating is that most of the rank and file Celestial Dragons don’t seem to realize their own history. Their traditional enemy has become a bedtime story used to scare children, and they’re too preoccupied in their petty games and pleasures to even notice that they’re not really the most powerful people in the world. It’s like their freedom to commit atrocities is the world’s worst example of bread and circuses, because as long as their attention is held by the shiny new slave or fixated on bringing in another tribute then they can’t use their immense power to actually do anything, and for the most part they’re too stupid to realize they’re being used.

Granted, I’m doing a lot of guesswork here, but we don’t really know where Im and his giant pointy crown fits into all this, or how aware the average Celestial Dragon is of his existence. Is he a world noble? Are the Elder Stars? I personally don’t think the latter are, but is it possible that there’s an even more secret and exclusive group within one of the most secretive and exclusive groups on the planet? And what in the world does the straw hat locked in a freezer have to do with any of it? Was that the treasure Doflamingo used to blackmail the Celestial Dragons into submission, and if so, who did he parlay with during his negotiations? Because I can’t see idiots like Saint Charlos or Mysogard before his character development giving two shits about any of it. Was it CP0, and if so, how much do they understand about the man who sits on the Empty Throne?

What I’m trying to say here, is that there’s a whole lot we don’t know.

What isn’t guesswork is how little the Celestial Dragons understand about the real world, and this is where I go back to feeling sorry for them. Even the best-intentioned noble we’ve seen so far (Homing) has no idea of what it is to be “human”.

This mansion is just...comfortable. It’s a downgrade. It’s how Homing thinks normal people live, and he thinks he can just plop his family out in the real world and live a quiet, normal life without blowback from a population that has suffered terribly at the Celestial Dragons hands. His ignorance and naivety, while well-intentioned, is staggering.

Because remember, slavery is technically illegal within the World Government. Only criminals and people from nations not affiliated can be taken to auction. What initially seems like a kindness turns out to be sending pigs to the slaughter, because what nation wouldn’t react the way this one did once they found out the truth?

Because what the WG (and by extension the CD) have done is punish nations who don’t kowtow to their power in order to fulfill the demand for slaves. Even the bit about criminals is terrifying when this is a world where for some it’s a crime to even be born, to say nothing about the Celestial Dragon’s refusal to obey their own laws if it means they can get what they want, when they want it.

The whole Homing situation puts a different spin on Doflamingo’s speech during the Marineford War. People who have only known peace can’t understand those who have only known war, and that lack of understanding is what ultimately led to his undoing.

That’s not to say that the Celestial Dragons are incapable of change on an individual level. One Piece is, ultimately, a very optimistic series, so while I was initially surprised that Saint Mysogard returned during the Reverie chapters as a good guy, upon later reflection it made sense with the points Oda was trying to make during the Fishman Island arc—that if different groups can try to understand one another, they can get along.

But it took an extraordinary event in almost being killed by his own former slaves and an extraordinary diplomat in Queen Otohime to change the mind of one (1) Celestial Dragon, and it doesn’t look like Saint Mysogard has been able to bring anyone else around to his point of view in the 10 years since he realized he was, in fact, human. And when feel like you’re due everything because you’re a god, why would you want to lower yourself to the position of a lessor being?

The Celestial Dragons are trained from birth to think of other human(oid) beings as less than animals, where sadism and torture aren’t only encouraged, but celebrated. The system has corrupted to the point where there’s no incentive to change and no oversight to prevent the abuse of power, and with the ability to call the admirals on anyone who pisses them off the average person has no hope of fighting back. It’s difficult to guess how noble the progenitors of the current Celestial Dragons were, but judging by what we know of the Void Century we can guess not very. At the same time, it’s hard to imagine them starting out as the mustache-twirling villains as we see in the current day. The only difference between the Nefertitis and the other kings was one man’s choice to stay with his people. In an alternate universe Vivi could have been a Celestial Dragon.

Now there’s an AU idea.

At the end of the day, the Celestial Dragons play an important role within the One Piece universe, but they are not, by themselves, important to Luffy. He hates their guts and enjoys punching them in the face, but he’s a pirate, not a Revolutionary. The future for One Piece is delightfully opaque, and it’s hard for me to see how the Natural Enemy of God ends up tearing the system to the ground. Will the Straw Hats end up going to space? I don’t know, but there are a lot of people who think it’s at least a possibility.

I personally find them at their most interesting when they’re playing the part of the outside influencer. The Celestial Dragons have only been the direct opponents to the Straw Hats a handful of times, but they’ve played a direct role in the lives of so many other characters—both heroic and villainous—that without them the series could not exist as it currently does.

And that’s the power of good worldbuilding. I don’t need Luffy to face off against Im to be satisfied with the series. In fact, he was brought in so late that I’ll be a little disappointed if he ends up as the final boss fight. I’m okay with the Revolutionary Army storming Mariejois off-screen, because while those are important players and major chess pieces, that’s never been where Luffy’s focus has been. He’s the man who’s going to become the Pirate King, and until the Celestial Dragons somehow get in the way of that dream he’s not going to bother with them. This lack of focus allows the inherent darkness of the Celestial Dragons not to overshadow the more lighthearted, whimsical aspects of the series. They explore certain themes that are important to One Piece, but the story doesn’t dwell in the mire, and I think it’s all the stronger for it. .

#long post #celetial dragons #world building #sarc talks

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buck-nialled · 3 years

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Undertow - S. Mendes (V)

Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4

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CH V: Working Woman

“Okay, your turn.” Shawn hands the pair of dice over to Y/N. “Just like I showed you, yeah?” The dotted cubes landed in her warm palm as she nodded. Curling the hand into a fist, like Shawn had done moments earlier, she rattled the dice around furiously in her clutch and even blew into the tiny hole at the top of her fist for, as Shawn deemed, “good luck”.

They clattered onto the game board moments later, revealing a collective five. She moved the metal ship that many spaces, as directed by Connor, and landed on the respective cube.

“Ooh, you get to draw a card,” Shawn said, gesturing to the neatly stacked pile of paper on the game board. With an equally excited grin, Y/N swiped the card at the very top and peered at it for a few seconds.

Tilting her head, she read off of the paper, “Go directly to jail.” Connor made a sound similar to a pathetic trombone and guided her piece to one of the corners holding an illustration of cell bars.

“Just like home,” the girl sighs, placing her chin on her hand. Connor’s head snaps up immediately at the comment, eyes wide.

“What?” Realizing her slip-up, Y/N’s head also stiffened and directed itself at Shawn, who was also staring at her with saucers for pupils. Then, the two looked back at Connor, still frozen with shock in his chair.

“What?” The two echoed together. “I was just joking--” Y/N tried excusing.

“Two days ago you didn’t know the meaning of joking,” Connor retorts. “You said being in jail was ‘just like home.’ Shawn, do not tell me we are harboring a criminal.” Connor growled, aiming a desperate look at his roommate. Shawn is a terrible liar to the average stranger. To blabber a fib to his closest friend about their new houseguest would surely result in further interrogation.

“Uh…um…”

“Dear God,” the boy moaned, smothering his face with his hand.

“I’m not a criminal,” Y/N piped up. Separating two fingers, Connor spared a hesitant look at the girl through his hand. “Well, not on land at least.” This urged Connor’s hand to fully remove itself from his face and clutch the edge of the dining table for support.

“Huh?” A sigh is released from Y/N, who shares a look of sorrow with Shawn. There was nothing she could tell Connor that was more believable than the truth. Nevertheless, guilt swelled her insides with every word of her explanation she shared at the table.

“So, I’m basically a fugitive of the sea...surprise.” She sang the last word, tossing her hands in the air.

"Wait so...you--she's a--" lifting an accusing finger, Connor's eyes flicker to Shawn momentarily. Then, they go back to Y/N again, "you're a--a mermaid?"

"No, good grouper!" she bellows. "What is your land-walkers' obsession with having a fishtail? Is that attractive to you guys, or something?" she sputters in revulsion, looking back and forth between the two boys. Shawn and Connor only exchange a look before shrugging.

"It was in the movie," Connor murmurs, lifting his shoulders in a shrug.

"Well, we are called the Atlanteans. Physically, we have all human parts with the exception that our lungs are capable of treating water as oxygen, our blood can range from warm to cold, our eyes fluctuate to perceive different lightings and--"

"Yeah, yeah you're basically a walking mermaid, we get it." Y/N crosses her arms at Connor's superficial retort. Shawn gulps as her glare directs itself at him and she huffs.

"And you wonder why we despise humans so much."

"Woah woah, you despise us?" Connor leans up in his seat with a newfound interest in the conversation. "Why?" At first, Y/N held concern to share such vital information with her new caretakers. But considering Shawn has grown somewhat used to her unearthly routines of living and Connor's reaction to her true identity was less than startled, she figured now to be an opportune time to answer the question.

"Every day, you land-walkers throw garbage around like it's sand or surfing trophies...where do you think it all ends up?" Shawn and Connor tilted their heads down, shameful.

"Not to mention the oil spills and the fact that you catch half of our creatures for sport for no reason. It'd be different if you used them for vital resources like food, but you land-walkers see them as nothing but points to a game. Like this," she spits, knocking over the tiny, silver ship still sat in the jail square.

"If you all treated our world with some decency, you might have known about Atlanteans much sooner."

"Atlanteans are coming up to land?" Shawn arched a brow, earning a snort.

"Were," Y/N corrected. "Hundreds of years ago, that was the plan. That we would make an appearance and find a way to co-exist with humans. If there was a way to form bonds and relations with them...Atlanteans would bring the evolution of land-walkers to entirely new levels physically. You all would be able to swim to depths unimaginable, learn how to control holding your breath easier...but then, you dedicated your lives to destroying our home, our families...”

"Families?" Shawn questions meekly.

"Your best friends are other land-walkers. My best friend is a dolphin."

"Really?" Connor's mouth dropped. She nods in response.

"Yeah...well, and I guess you guys now, too."

"We're so sorry, Y/N. We had no idea how bad it was,” Connor says.

"That's alright, now you do."

"Do you think if more people knew about you, they would stop?" Shawn offers.

"That's what I'm hoping but as long as the royal family of Atlantis continues resenting humans, there's no way for you all to know we exist. Then again, if land-walkers do find out about us...”

"You could be put in danger," Shawn concludes in a whisper. Y/N nods, sparing a glance down at her hands.

She offers a pitiful chuckle. “My father always told me, ‘If they don’t care about life down here now, why bother going up?’”

"But being on land for a few days," she begins, "way better than life down there."

"Well, you're welcome to live up here as long as you'd like." Shawn reaches an arm over the table to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. Once again, her body was donning his hoodie, and it became flush under his heartfelt gaze.

"Yeah, your secret is safe with us. Well, with me at least." Connor places a flat palm to his chest. "Shawn isn't the best at keeping things quiet." He whispers towards Y/N, who lets out a few giggles at the man's nervous look. Shawn only growls and kicks Connor lightly in his shin below the table.

"I'll take this secret to my grave. I can promise you that," he swears, looking back to Y/N with nothing other than sincerity.

"I appreciate it." She blinks before blurting. “Your eyes are pretty, too.”

Her comment leaves Shawn flustered and Connor confused, but both boys have smirks on their faces after composing themselves and returning to the board game in front of them.

“How do you apply for a job?”

Her question caught Shawn off guard and he froze in his spot in the kitchen.

“You want a job? What for?”

“I can’t leech off of you and Connor forever. Gotta make money one way or another and it looks like I need a job for that.” She stood up, bringing her empty bowl of cereal to the sink and washing it out before placing it inside the dishwasher.

“Do you have a particular place in mind?” He snapped back to reality. Was she already sick of him?

“No. That’s why I need your help. Where do I look and what do I do?” She turned to face him, arms crossed over her chest. He smiled at her disheveled appearance, hair in a messy ponytail and baggy pajamas that swallowed her frame. She still chose to use his hoodie, even with her own clothes to wear.

“What kinds of things are you good at?”

“Swimming and eating cheese balls.” Shawn laughed but Y/N looked dead serious. “Don’t laugh at me,” she scoffed. “Eating cheese balls is a real skill, okay?”

“You’d be a good-” He stopped himself, hesitant to suggest what was on the tip of his tongue.

“Hmm?”

“Lifeguard. You’d make a good lifeguard.”

“What do lifeguards do?”

“Remember when you saved me at the cove?” She nodded her head. “Basically that with some variations.”

Speaking of the cove, his foot had gotten a lot better in the days after getting stitches. He was able to walk without too much pain but he still couldn’t surf. According to the doctor, it could be a while before that happened again. If Shawn was being honest, getting back to surfing had gone to the back of his mind as he spent more time with Y/N.

“So you mean there’s more helpless people like you out there?” She looked at him with disbelief. “You land walkers need to get it together. Save yourselves every once a while why don’t you?”

“Not all of us are mermaids.”

“For the last time, I am not a mermaid.” She nudged him in the shin with her barefoot. “I have legs and feet, not a tail.”

“Same difference.”

“You're impossible.” She turned around to go to his room and get ready for the day. She looked back once she stood in the doorway, seeing that Shawn was still staring at her. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Mmm hmm.” She stepped further into the room to close the door.

Shawn cleaned up the rest of the kitchen, putting the remaining dishes into the dishwasher and cleaning some crumbs off the counter. He sat down at the table while he waited for Y/N to finish up.

She emerged minutes later, not bothering to close the door behind her. “So, how would I get this ‘saving helpless humans’ job?”

“You could probably talk to one of them. I don’t know how they would feel about hiring you though since you don’t exactly exist as a person in the human world.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She sat down next to him, propping her elbows on the table and resting her head on her palms.

“You don’t have official documentation in the human world. No birth certificate, no ID, nothing that proves you are who you say you are. Especially since you ‘don’t remember’ anything before you ended up in the cove, people are going to be hesitant to hire you.”

“Well, then how am I supposed to get a job?” She rested her hands in front of herself, tapping her fingers on the wood.

Shawn sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. “You might be able to get one at the market.” He noticed her look of disdain, remembering how last time didn’t go so well. “Or you could talk to Wesley about lifeguarding.” He grimaced as he said it, hating that he was even suggesting such a thing.

“That’s not a bad idea. Thanks, Shawn.” She offered him a genuine smile and he melted at the gesture. “I might ask around while you’re at work.”

“Just be careful, yeah?” He reached a hand to lay over hers, concern laced in his eyes. “We don’t know who’s lurking around.”

She turned her hand over to grab and squeeze his. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m a scary sea woman. People tremble in my presence.”

“Okay,” he laughed. “But still, keep an eye out. For me, please?”

“You know I will.”

“So let me get this straight,” Tertis brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “you know a human who is watching after her?” His eyes land directly on the middle of the pile of knights, where Ripley was standing. The Atlantean delivered a firm nod and a confident, “yes, sire.”

“Then why is she not down here in shackles yet?” he barks, slamming the butt of his trident down onto the sea stone with a firm grip. The large clang reverberated through the walls of the throne room the king had recently gifted him but was now threatening to reap Tertis if the search for the runaway princess is left unsuccessful. “I have given you a job gentleman. Unless you’d like a new one polishing my feet, I suggest you do what I have asked of you.”

Murmurs of “yes, sire” all warp together before many knights are swimming off in their armor to complete the task. Ripley prepared to do the same, before Tertis bellowed a deep, “stop.” Ripley did as commanded, and approached Tertis with fretful eyes.

“What is your name?” The knight gulped.

“Ripley, sire.”

“You are going to be the first of the knights kneeling by my feet if that fugitive is not brought to me soon. Understand?” The growl made Ripley’s insides begin tangling themselves in knots. While catching the runaway princess should be his top priority, the safety of his son surpassed it greatly. What kind of father figure could he label himself to wreak havoc on Wesley’s home, as well as his own wife’s?

He nods anyway. “Yes, sire.”

“Good. And just to make things crystal clear...I want her back down here in two days’ time. No longer. You have wasted plenty of sun piddling on the land-walkers' territory,” he spits in revulsion. The knots within Ripley tighten. Flashes of Wesley overcome his mind, and he feels his heart and throat begin constricting simultaneously. His response is a feeble squeak.

“Yes, sire.”

“Do you know if he lives around here?” Y/N tilts her head, eyeing Shawn from the passenger seat of his Jeep. Her eyes subtly transfixed themselves on his muscled arm, which connected to the hand comfortably holding the steering wheel. His other forearm occupied the small center cubby, separating the two, fingers dancing in anticipation for what this “lifeguard lesson” Wesley (eagerly) agreed to would entail.

“Who?”

“Him,” She points a finger to the radio, currently blasting the top-charting single, Watermelon Sugar, throughout the vehicle.

“Harry Styles?” He scoffs, “I doubt he’s anywhere near here...why?”

Slumping down in the leather seat, Y/N blows out a breath and folds her arms against her chest. “I promised Douglas an autograph from him.”

“Wait—you—you know who Harry Styles is? The dolphin,” Shawn pauses, “knows who Harry Styles is?”

“Of course. Sea people aren’t entirely uncultured, you know? We have music down there,” she remarks with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. The gleam of them blinds Shawn more than the rays tickling the sea at dawn, but he accepted the white glares in their every wake.

“You’re doing it again.” Y/N points out.

“Uh-what?”

“Staring at me. Is something wrong with my clothes?” Her pale hands flew to the straps of the vibrant sundress Shawn now regrets suggesting her to wear. Beneath it lies a swimsuit even more promiscuous and the thought of Wesley earning perks of her body under the afternoon sun for the following hours set an envious fire ablaze within the depths of Shawn’s stomach.

“No, you look great,” Shawn muttered while his eyes flicked back onto the road. You’d look better in my hoodie though, he thinks to himself. Y/N, now observing his profile, saw the subtle shifting of his jaw from her seat.

“That didn’t sound too convincing,” she replies, a smirk barely tugging one corner of her lips up. “Shawn…what’s the issue?” Her query has the driver’s body tensing within seconds and the vicious grip his hand was clutching the steering wheel with was fading into a ghostly white.

“Nothing.”

“Shawn…”

“I swear I’m fine.” But at this point, he didn’t know who he was trying to convince.

“You’re sweating!” she argues, aiming one of her hands beside Shawn’s face. Slowly, he endured a tickling sensation over his forehead as the droplets of moisture were plucked, one by one by Y/N’s magical forces. Her gaze remained concentrated as she worked to form a reasonable bubble of the water she had gathered from him and dangled it before his apprehensive gaze. “See?”

“Please don’t do that. Like, ever again.” His body shifts uncomfortably in the seat, as he feels the moisture reaching his palms. Y/N throws what little she had collected from his damp skin out of the open window to the jeep, disregarding the small splash it made upon landing on the pavement.

“Just tell me what’s wrong--”

“Fine. I think it’s a dumb idea for you to be getting close to the water,” he blurts, chest beginning to heave in irritation.

“You’re the one who said I should try getting a job as a life—“

“I know and I regretted it as soon as I said it. Y/N, what’s gonna happen when they find you back in the water again? Do you think they’re just gonna let you carry on living life on land?” The parking lot was bumpy with sand but his Jeep managed to climb over any humps. As much as he wanted to put the gear of his vehicle in reverse, he switched it to the parking setting instead.

“I-I don’t know but...but I haven’t seen any sign of them here so far, so--”

“Don’t you think that’s because you’ve been doing a good job hiding out, away from water? One trace of you and they’ll drag you right back down to where you don’t want to be.” His snippy tone acted like weights to the corners of Y/N’s mouth. Each harsh word he directed at her further encouraged her frown to deepen. “I’m sorry Y/N, I can’t let you do this.” As his hand went back to the gear shift, hers landed on top of it. Shawn froze at the feeling of her skin cloaking his own while internally, the man became hypnotized with this indescribable warmth.

“No, Shawn. I want this job.”

“I can get you a job in the market,” Shawn offers, earning a sharp glare from the girl sitting across from him. “It’ll draw even more confusion once they ask for proof you are human, Y/N. It’s dangerous either way. I don’t want you to take that risk...c’mon let’s go--”

“I’m not leaving, Shawn.” She shakes her head furiously, catching sight of a few beachgoers running past them through the windows. Screams of all pitches faded in and out during the stampede occurring outside but Shawn took it as nothing out of the ordinary. The weather was nice and teenagers were always excited to end the school week with their friends in the crystal blue waters.

“Why not?” The growl laced in his voice catches her off guard but does not halt her outcry seconds after.

“Because you’re trying to take away the one thing I might actually have a chance at, here! You might not see it as a good idea but you know deep down I’d be way better at saving lives here than at the market selling--”

She inhales a piercing breath; one that makes Shawn’s eyes expand in fear and unknowing. The hand atop of his clenches but Shawn barely feels the fingernails leaving patterned crescents on the tan skin. “Y/N...what is it? What’s wrong?”

But her jaw was locked and unmoving as her eyes continued blinking at the sight behind Shawn’s shoulder. Through the glass of his window, she peered at the menacing waves, which continued crashing high and mighty, washing pedestrians in the opposite direction as they screamed and flailed in desperation on their way to safety.

“Tsunami,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. Shawn’s head snapped back to where her stare was trained, observing the damage for himself. In a moment, his neck was twisting back to see Y/N clambering out of her seat and out of the Jeep.

“What are you doing?” demands a flabbergasted Shawn when he sees Y/N begin sprinting towards the oncoming waves, against the traffic of the crowd. He exits his side of the car, repeating himself even louder atop of the shrieks of terror emitting from the stampede. Through the swarm of bodies and sand, he spots waves he has only dreamed of being able to ride forming and expanding in their travel to shore.

“Showing you that I’m responsible enough to save people! Go!”

“No!” he refuses, shoving his way past bodies as he tries nearing her. She is far past him at this point, though, and getting harder to see through the ever-darkening sky, swirling with clouds. “I’m not leaving you!” She cannot slip away from me this easy, he thinks to himself.

“Then you have a death wish!” Another harsh wave breaks and slams with a large boom, reaching up to the lower portion of Y/N’s calves, and Shawn’s ankles. “Just go somewhere safe! I need to find Wesley!”

“Wesley?” Shawn whispers to himself, halting his stomping feet. Simultaneously, he feels his heart drop, as well as his body. Something vicious jostles him to the ground and the bitter saltwater meets his tongue, bringing him back to the horrid wipeout he suffered a bit over a week prior. The waves continue their harsh entrance onto land and enter his eyes, allowing him to shut them in a hiss while a brutal, unknowing force keeps him sessile.

His heartbeat was erratic but all he could feel was it sinking in his chest like a rock from Y/N’s frantic running away from him. Maybe Connor was right, he thinks to himself, becoming attached to her could only end badly.

Why Shawn decided to call her name after and endure gargling salt water through every scream is unbeknownst to him. Why he continued doing it until his voice reached a murmur and his vision morphed into something spotted is even more of a mystery. The screaming winds hardly catch the broken whisper he lets slip through his lips until the forces surrounding him finally render him unconscious.

“I love you.”

Look out for the next part of Undertow coming 3/5/21!

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spitpr1ncess · 3 years

Text

BRUISED BODIES CHAPTER 4 LEVI ACKERMAN X READER

(not my image)

A week has passed since the “inspection” with Levi, and where any sane person would have buried the memories in the deepest, darkest part of their mind, you can’t help ascending into daydreams about it all day long. It was perverted and you expected that you would feel ashamed, but instead you feel curious.

After two days respite and a chat with Jools, you decide you are well enough to get back to work. Your fragile body still littered with bruises and Levi’s strangely territorial marks, you see men in and out of your little room. Each one you satiated, you tried harder than you had before, each time envisioning them to be Levi, imagining their clumsy hands away, instead picturing his careful hands, grasping you with calculated thought. You’ve been catching sight of yourself in the mirror more, admiring his marks and fearing that they will disappear, that any real evidence that your encounter had happened at all will cease to exist. It’s a late afternoon when you are approached by one of the girls you reside with. Tall and with olive skin, she was naturally very beautiful.

“Harmony, hey, are you okay?” you question her as she sits herself down on the soft, white sofa next to you. Harmony is known to have personal involvement with one of Boss’s men, Reiner. It was against the rules, but you and the other girls knew that her happiness was something you yearned for, so who were you to take it away? You always turned a blind eye when he arrived late at night and left in the early hours of the morning, as a result, Harmony loved you all dearly, like her own little dysfunctional family.

“I’ve given you a week to make your own way to me and explain about what happened with that Levi guy and you haven’t, and so here I am, waiting” she gives you a little eyebrow raise and laughs.

“I shouldn’t humour you, but I am sure that rumours are flying around these walls. You’ve probably heard the truth, although where everybody is probably making out like I am so feeble, pathetic and weak, I really enjoyed it. I can’t stop thinking about it. About him. What is wrong with me? I must be some kind of pervert” Harmony ruffles your hair gently, if you had an older sister, you imagine this behaviour to be similar to the way she might act.

“I think that you are used to men having their way with you, I think like most of us, you have subconsciously trained yourself to enjoy it, to associate validation with it. Which is totally normal. I also think you are strong on the hots for that Levi fella, and from what I heard, he is strong on the hots for you too. I-” Harmony stops herself abruptly.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“What? Go on?” You probe deeper and Harmony shifts uncomfortably, standing up just to tuck one of her legs underneath her bottom before she sits back down.

“I was talking to Jools, apparently he always looks at you, I'm just warning you, be careful. I should know” she looks around to look for unwanted listeners, she leans in close and whispers “He's not allowed to interact with us, with you, on a personal level. Boss will see to it that his life stops completely before you both get a chance at happiness.” You lean back, crossing your arms and snort.

“He's not even interested in me, Harmony, and why should you get to preach about fraternizing, huh?”

“How do you know? And I'm not being funny but that's exactly why I get to preach!!", her voice is quiet and serious, her eyes boring into your, you can tell that she isn't messing around, you continue, “He left a note apologising, like it literally just said "I'm sorry, what does that mean?”

“Oh” Harmony sighs “this is unfortunate, I think that he does like you, or if he doesn't, really he does, he just won't admit it to himself. I think he's intrigued but he doesn't know enough about you, or he's not sure how to approach you, we shall have to change that” you guffaw at her stupidity, as if she's forgotten that he's Boss's right hand man, and that he wouldn't hesitate to drag you to his office and have you disposed of.

“You are incredibly stupid Harmony, why on earth would I do that?” you're worried now, concerned that Harmony will want to get involved, that's the last thing you want, she shoots you a look, “Because, we are both bored and we have nothing better to do, besides, what’s the worst that could happen?” she gives you a knowing look that tells you it is a dangerous game to play, that it may end in a death, yet you are interested.

Your eyes widen and as you reply, “I am not you, and Levi is not Reiner, I doubt Levi is going to drop all of his duties and devote himself to sneaking around late at night just to date me, also you know that we could end up hurt, or WORSE.” the emphasis was suggestive enough but she waves you away, with this, Harmony stands up to leave, she takes your hand and leads you toward her room.

“We’re going out this evening, for a few drinks, I’ve got permission from Jools, and I’m sure you’ll be okay as you’ll be with me, they know I wouldn’t allow you to run off.” she's grinning from ear to ear and you can tell that she has something planned, butterflies begin to wake in the pit of your stomach.

“Harm, I don’t really fancy it.” You take your hand out of hers as you step through the doorframe and collapse down on her bed, you lift your arm and reach your hand toward the ceiling, you trace the barely visible bruises around your wrist and smile without realising.

“I don’t care if you fancy it or not, we are going, if you won’t indulge me in my little game of cat and mouse, the least you will do is have a good bloody time. Now, piss off and go and find something nice to wear, I’ll come get you at seven.” She pulls you off the bed and shoos you out, begrudgingly, you trudge down the long corridor, defeated, listening only to your soft footsteps and the occasional moan or grunt coming from various girls’ rooms, at first you used to cringe, but over the years its become strangely comforting, as the walls became more and more your home.

A little black linen sundress accompanied by a pair of platform heels was your outfit of choice. As a working girl you did not lack in the heels department, with clients often gifting you new ones regularly, the dress had a sweeping neckline with soft, loose, fairy like sleeves that gather at your wrists, you did not dress overly provocatively; you feel comfortable separating your working self and everyday self as much as possible. Filling a glass of water and placing it on your nightstand for later, you prepare for the possibility of a hangover, although you had no plans to get that drunk, you know Harmony has other plans, and being empathic, you usually indulge her. You walk to your mirror and give yourself a once over, your make up is soft but you’ve paired it with a deep, tantalising red lip. Your long brown hair cascades down your back, with two plaits starting at the front, clasped together at the back of your head with a beautiful silver butterfly clip, you notice that you look good and furthermore, you feel good.

You notice the window in the reflection of the mirror and swear you see a shadow pass by, you gasp and flip yourself around in a second. Slowly approaching the window, you push it open, the air is cold, and there doesn’t seem to be anybody there.

“…Hello?” you practically whisper, voice shaking and a lump forming in your throat, nobody answers, obviously, and you feel like an idiot, you pull the window shut and laugh.

“I’m going crazy” You speak to absolutely nobody. You pull a small white linen nightdress out of your wardrobe and fold it neatly on your pillow for later. A small note falls out of the little breast pocket, you pick it up and sigh, knowing it was the one Levi had left for you.

You mull over the two words, they were short and confusing, was he really sorry or was he just feeling guilty? You think back to Jools telling you he'd stayed to bathe you, waiting for you to come around. You shake your head as if you could wipe the thoughts from your mind, you rip the note in half once, and then again, and again, until it is in tiny little shreds, and throw all the pieces in your trash can, you decide that you’ve had enough of your little obsession, and that you’ll use tonight to have a flirt with someone of your choosing, you glance at your clock, it reads six-fifty-six, you open your door and step out into the quiet corridor, most clients come before five, unless there are extenuating circumstances, or they are of any importance, so it often is quiet at these hours. Most of the girls pass their time by reading, or gossiping together, but more often than not, keeping themselves to themselves. You lock the door and hear Harmony’s footsteps advancing towards you, you can tell by her hastened pace that she is excited and full of energy.

“Whew! Look at you lady!” She grabs you by the shoulders and spins you around, the movement causing your dress to lift and swirl beautifully, you feel a rush as she dotes on you. “And panties to match! What are you planning you little minx!?” She playfully lifts the hem and jokingly peers underneath. You laugh, and for the first time in a few weeks, it spreads throughout your whole body, you feel excitement and energy surge through you, you look at Harmony and grin, maybe this isn't such a terrible idea? She practically squeals at you, “C’mon then!” Giddy as anything, you both giggle and laugh as you make you way to the front desk where Jools is seated as he usually is, he looks up and his eyes widen as he drinks in your slender, pale legs and follows your soft curves until you make eye contact, he realises you have seen him checking you out he coughs and looks away quickly, embarrassed and with a soft pink heat to his cheeks.

“We’re going out for a few drinks, Jools, I hope that’s okay, we’ll be together the whole time so I will look after her, I promise!”

He looks up and smiles, Jools would trust Harmony with his first-born child, he waves you away and buzzes the door open from his seat.

“Have fun girls!” He shouts out to you, Jools follows you with his eyes as you pass through the wide glass doors and past the large windows, you fall out of sight and he goes back to his computer, absentmindedly mulling over that time he’d joked about fucking you and you’d gone ahead and straddled him, he wonders if he’d not pushed you off whether you might’ve… Gone further. He shakes his head.

“She’s like your sister, get a grip.”

You and Harmony are still locking arms as you shiver and pull yourself into her a little more, you huddle like little penguins outside in the snow as you wait to be admitted into the club. Harmony was a big fan of drinking, loud dance music and flashing lights, on this information alone you allowed her the luxury of choosing the venue, so you didn’t have to, and where you don’t particularly enjoy the club scene at all, you were happy to be out.

“Do you want a smoke while we wait?” Harmony asks you innocently.

“Usually takes me a few drinks before I crave one of those but if it’ll help distract me from the cold I’ll take one” She unlinks your arms and digs out two Marlborough straights from her clutch bag, popping one into her mouth and one into yours she fishes out her lighter, you press the ends of your cigarettes together and she lights them both. As the flame encases the paper and smoulders away the tobacco you both inhale, you close your eyes and feel the buzz travel through your veins, letting out a small groan.

“Jesus fuck that’s good” you say, holding the smoke between the very corner of your lips, you remove the stick and twirl it between your index finger and thumb and ponder your thoughts.

“Jools calls them death sticks, personally I think a man that smokes socially is sexy, there is something so primitive in me that awakens when I see a man enjoy the rush.” Harmony nods and makes a sound of agreement, you’re instructed forward by a bouncer.

“Identification.” Its less of a question and more of a request. You reach to your little clutch bag and pull out your photocard ID, Harmony mimics you, ou pass them to the bouncer, and he studies them intensely.

“All right girls, step over to the cross and my colleague will stamp you for re-entry, have a good night.” You eagerly obey and step onto the taped cross on the floor, you inhale another lungful of tobacco and mull over the figure with his back turned to you, it seems familiar, he is fairly built, strong shoulders and legs, shiny black hair with a subtle undercut…

Oh no.

Oh yes.

You realize immediately who is stood a foot away from you. He turns and you smell his pine scented cologne approach you.

Levi.

You make eye contact and his eyes bore into yours, his mouth slightly agape, a few seconds pass and you decide to take control, you won’t allow him the satisfaction of knowing he has disturbed your sense of normality, after all, you've decided to stamp out your little obsession, what's the harm in toying with him a little?

You roll your cigarette between your index finger and thumb again and step uncomfortably close to him, you remove it and flip it around, Levi glances at it and licks his lip, pre-emptively readying himself, you place it between his soft, parted lips and brush your thumb along his jawline. You’re sure he tenses a little and the thought makes you giddy, you step back in line with Harmony.

“Won’t you scan us in already, Mr Ackerman?” your voice is smooth and silky as it leaves your mouth, Levi drinks it in, desperate for the sound of your voice again, though he would never let on. He first puts his hand out to Harmony, she obliges, completely blown away by this mature and teasing version of yourself she has never seen before, Levi turns her hand, so her palm is facing down, he stamps the back of her hand with a little red signature stamp, it absorbs into her skin and she pulls her arm back.

Levi steps toward you, much like you did him. The butterflies are in full swing as he inhales on the smoke sat between his lips and holds it in, he runs his fingers from your shoulder to your wrist, sending waves of pleasure straight to the depths of your belly, he lifts your wrist and stamps his little red stamp, he exhales through the corner of his mouth and leans in to whisper in your ear, gently tucking your hair between your ear.

“I’m sorry for what I-, for what-, the other day-," he pauses and you see him visibly shift uncomfortably, "I was worried, I'm not actually a monster, and I know we got off on the wrong foot, are you okay?”

His words melt you into a puddle and you’re sure you feel yourself getting slick just from hearing him speak.

You take the smoke from his lips and take a gentle drag not daring to move away from him, you throw it on the floor and stub it out with your heeled foot, your pedicured toes twisting as you ensure it is no longer lit, you pause to regain control of your thoughts, you won't let him win.

“You were doing your job Mr Ackerman; I would expect nothing less. Have a good night.” its ice cold, and even you are proud, you can tell Harmony is in shock, you turn and link arms with her as you lead her into the lobby, you don’t see but Levi stares after you, mouth agape and strangely intrigued, he shakes his head and turns back to his job, choosing not to focus on your aloof behaviour. He knew you weren’t actually interested, he'd overthought it, it was just a stupid hunch after all, the note he left was so… plain. He regretted it more than anything, but he knew he couldn’t risk being caught. Especially because he doesn’t even know how he feels about you. Were you just an annoying, pathetic working girl or were you…more?

“Four double vodkas with cranberry please!” You shout across the bar; the music is pumping and the people are… Everywhere.

“Cranberry?!” Harmony pulls a face at you.

“For your lady health, idiot! Might as well drink responsibly!” You’re practically screaming at the top of your lungs at this point, you hand a crisp £20 over to the bartender and wave away the change, she has long blonde hair and a beautiful smile, she mouths thank you and turns to the next customer. You both grab two drinks and head toward the back of the large open space, finding a gap in all the dancing bodies. You tap your glasses together and greedily neck the first drink, you grimace at the bitterness of the cranberry, impatiently, you neck the second one too, Harmony staring at you,

“Should I be concerned?! Did that little encounter stress you out or something?!” She sips her second drink, grinning as she laughs at you, you place both of your empty cups on the tray of a passing-by staff member, closing your your eyes you allow the bass of the music to course heavily through your veins, you smile and mentally congratulate yourself for how you handled Levi. You open your eyes as Harmony drags you to the centre of the dance floor. Both of you being working girls, you know how to navigate a dance floor, gyrating rhythmically and hitting every beat, you noticed were being observed by a couple of guys from the group next to you. Both tall, one with long-ish deep chestnut hair, pulled into a messy bun, some strands falling loose and framing his sculptural jaw. The other one with ashy blonde hair, short but with enough length to be wispy and styled well, you two make eye contact and he winks at you, nonchalantly pulling the corner of his mouth up to give you a mischievous smirk, you lick your bottom lip, plump and coated in the glossy red you’d chosen.

“I think they’re coming over Olive! Oh my god!” Harmony squeals. Her and Reiner are “dating” in secret but realistically, they both know it wont work out, it can’t work out, they were in the middle of a big argument turned break currently, and the nature of their relationship meant Harmony would sleep with whoever she wanted, to try and fill the void. The tall ashy blonde approached you first, he leans in toward your ear,

“I’m Jean, this is my friend Eren, I think he has the hots for your friend, fancy introducing them?” His voice was smooth, and his breath was a mix of cool mint and whisky, you nod and pull Harmony in.

“Harmony, this is Eren, Jean here says he totally has the hots for you, give him the pleasure of indulging him so I can indulge his hot as fuck friend, won’t you?” Jean has leaned back and Eren is too far away for either of them to hear your exchange of words, she smiles and kisses your cheek, striding toward Eren, taking his hand and leading him off.

“Fancy a drink?” Jean calls to you, you roll your eyes at him but take his hand anyway, he leads you away to a private booth. You’re away from the masses and you can hear yourself think, Jean reaches toward a bottle of whisky sat centre on the table. He pours you both a hefty glass, you lift them, and they make a small “clink” sound as you gently touch them together.

Your nerves are piping up as you feel Jeans eyes on you, you neck your glass of sipping whisky to keep the buzz alive.

“You certainly know how to dance, little miss. You’re a working girl, aren’t you?”

You sigh. Here we go.

“Yes I am, look, if you’re going to berate me and make me fee-“ He interrupts you.

“No, no, no, sorry, it means nothing to me., I just noticed your branding. If anything, I’m impressed, to be honest, I’m not sure if it’s the whiskey talking for me, but I’m a little turned on.” You laugh, genuinely.

“Thank fuck.” Your shoulders relax and you brush your thigh against Jeans, he tenses and you can see him fidget uncomfortably, you lick your lips as you stretch your arms above your head, tantalizingly slow, knowing the hem of your dress is rising and revealing the delicate black lace encasing your sex, Jean tries to look without being obvious but he’s basically gawking at this point.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to stare?” You bite, playfully and he blushes.

“I’m sorry Miss. I couldn’t help it. You’re a tall, ice cold glass of water, and I want to drink you all up for myself.” Normally you’d cringe at something so… boyish, but thanks to the copious amounts of alcohol coursing through your veins, its charming.

“You smoke?” you ask, a few drinks in and you have that hankering, unluckily, Harmony has made off with Eren, and thus, your stash of death sticks.

“I do.” He stands and takes your hand, pulling you to your feet. You notice his hands are large and sculpted, his fingers encased by a selection of silver rings. Immediately you remember Boss's fat fingers covered in his gold signet rings, you beg that the though leave you as you take in the different pieces Jean is wearing. You trace his ring and middle finger as your mind wanders. You imagine the sensation of his prying open you little hole, washing away any thoughts of Boss that were left. Subconsciously your legs rub together to create some wanted friction, but you quickly remember where you are and push the thought to the back of your mind and follow Jean out to the entrance. You are quickly reminded how bitterly cold it is outside tonight, the days have been warmer recently, but the night never fails to remind you just what time of year it was, Jean senses that you’re cold and wraps his large arms around you. You nuzzle in, closing the distance between you.

“You’re going to have to reach into my pockets to pull out the smokes I’m afraid.” Sarcasm coats his voice as the words fall out, you fully knowing he wasn’t expecting you to do as he says. You reach a nimble hand into one of his trouser pockets, they’re deep, much deeper than any woman’s trouser pocket, you fumble around, purposely rubbing against his thigh, playing the game, you look into his eyes as you complete your blind quest. Pulling out the box of straights you take two out, you place them both between your lips and lift the lighter up. Jeans body is warm and sheltering from any wind that might prevent them from lighting, completely transfixed by you, he watches as you light both and take a hungry drag, you take one out and pry his lips apart with the unlit side.

You can see the cogs working behind his shocked eyes as he tries to figure out just how he feels about you.

You take it in turns talking, laughing and smoking for goodness knows how long, you smoke though two, three, four cigarettes, loosing all concept of time, it must be around two when you realise the outside area was mostly barren apart from the two of you and a few other couples and friends dotted around.

You unanimously decide to move back inside, but not before Jean has crushed his hungry lips down on yours and you push back, meeting him with the same passion, he gently pry’s your mouth open with his tongue, you can't help but be shocked by the sharp taste of metal in your mouth, through the booze and smokes you missed that he had a tongue piercing. You let out the tiniest mewl as you mull over what that would feel like between your legs. Jean brings his hand up to the back of your head, tangling his carefully decorated fingers in your soft, chestnut hair.

You don’t feel the pair of eyes hungrily watching from across the courtyard, wondering why they cared so much, why he wished he were the one guiding you into his mouth, kissing you deep and keeping you warm.

Levi was beginning to get frustrated with how much he cares. Internally he was yelling at himself.

“She's a working girl, you have no interest or need for her, why are you so obsessed? Its obscene.”

He’d had enough. He turned and headed inside, making for the staffroom, he was going home. He needed to clear his head and have a drink.

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algernoninwonderland · 3 years

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Miraculous, intertextuality and why referencing other works all the time isn’t necessarily a great idea

TL;DR: Miraculous loves itself some pop culture references, they’re in the show all the time for you to enjoy, especially if you’re a big nerd.

Only, making a list of references and trying to replicate what other works did before yours doesn’t make your show good by association, and when it comes to Miraculous, these references seldom do these original works justice. Instead, it makes comparing these other works with Miraculous really easy, and the comparison is rarely flattering.

Miraculous would be a much better show if it tried to be its own thing, a few scenes are just that and they are great. It’d be a wonderful show were they not so few and far between.

Miraculous is made by nerds, as is the case with most cartoons. The show itself lets you know that right away. It’s a pastiche of magical girl anime and Silver Age comics, it uses a lot of their visual languages, and references its other inspirations a lot, for instance:

The name of its fictional locations, (Françoise Dupont is a regular kid with a masked detective alter ego named Fantomette, Marinette’s address is a reference to a French illustrator who often drew a talking ladybird)

The way its characters look (Master Fu is both Mr Miyagi from the Karate Kid and Muten Roshi from Dragon Ball, when akumatised, Mme Couffaine becomes basically Captain Harlock and her houseboat becomes the Arcadia)

Sometimes entire scenes are references to other works (Aurore’s akumatisation is straight out of Utena’s Dark Rose Saga, “Gorizilla” has a King Kong pastiche).

You could fill an entire Wiki with all the references in Miraculous if you wanted to. If you paid me well, I’d do it myself.

Wearing your inspirations on your sleeves is a double-edged sword, really.

On the one hand, you showcase the things that inspired your creative process, a way to say, “hey, that show/film/book exists within a landscape, it’s the heir to such and such work”. You acknowledge that you owe a lot to your predecessors, you acknowledge that there’s no such thing as a 100% original thing. That’s a great act of humility.

And intertextuality conveys meaning, too! Let’s take a very mainstream example. When you notice that ha! The pod-racing scene in Phantom Menace comes from the 1959 movie Ben-Hur for instance, you get the sense that you understand the cinematic masterpiece that is Episode 1 a bit more. It tells you that your movie about space wizards owes a lot to other genres, and that it transposes these genres to another setting, space! “It’s Ben-Hur, in that that slave kid is pod-racing for his freedom, but I gave it my own spin,” George Lucas tells you. “Look, the funny Gungan stepped into that space cow’s poop! Haha, sure hope I’ll sell lots of toys and buy myself some death sticks!”

You feel really smart when you get a reference, too! “Hey, that’s a Dezaki effect right there!” “Wow, is that a robot from Castle in the Sky in Age of Ultron?” Likewise, if you don’t recognise the work being referred to, you might get curious about it! References send back to other things and your knowledge of these things and when you get it, it feels nice. Lots of people discovered Utena thanks to Steven Universe and that’s really cool, and these references add to the meaning of the cartoon! Folks who casually got into RWBY but didn’t know Soul Eater and Cowboy Bebop heard about those shows and many others while discussing RWBY and I’m sure lots of them got into anime thanks to RWBY!

On the other hand, by being so open about your sources of inspiration, you expose yourself to criticism, especially in the case of your work being compared with what inspired it: it might be seen as derivative, or even worse, unable to do these previous pieces of media justice by only retaining and replicating their most superficial elements without a great understanding of what made them work, gratuitous fanservice for nerds.

And I’m not quite sure where Miraculous stands. Oftentimes, it feels more like a Spider-Man/Kamen Rider crossover with bits of outdated shoujo manga and superficial wuxia sprinkled in there than a show at least trying to be its own thing.

And the problem is, Sailor Moon is better at being Sailor Moon than Miraculous could ever be, as it uses its visual language better, and it has a tiny thing called “the main character having a group of friends who aren’t props and a plot you can follow” that is the very reason why people liked the manga and anime in the first place. Miraculous only retains the very superficial aspects of the manga/anime and of the genre. Marinette still trips over a cat in the opening. Because that’s how it happens in Sailor Moon. Her characterisation as a civilian screams “Usagi Tsukino but more stressed out”.

Spider-Man is better at splash pages than Miraculous because ML’s CGI is pretty meh when it’s not in motion, these weird filter effects don’t look great, that only works when you’re Into the Spiderverse and have comic-book aesthetics. Queen Wasp has a whole sequence that is just that scene in Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man 2 only this time Queen Bee sabotaged a metro on purpose to stop it. It’s not an awful scene, it carries its point across rather well (Chloé is a selfish nerd who thinks she can be like these comic book characters but truly isn’t fit to be a hero) but the original did it better, it was more impressive, there was more tension to that original scene, some really interesting camera and foley work that made you feel the weight of that train. It didn’t feel cheap the way that scene in “Queen Wasp” did.

Utena’s Black Rose Saga explores the psyche of some of its secondary characters the audience is already familiar with, with problems we could already identify within them. It offers an examination of the storyworld from another point of view, and helps build it further. There’s always a proper buildup before these characters have a mental breakdown in an moody elevator with a butterfly pinned on the wall that turns back into a chrysalis, because the characters are going through a kind of regression that makes them easier to manipulate and turn into “villains” while acting out their true desires in a twisted way. “Stormy Weather” has most of that, an elevator with dramatic lighting, a butterfly and a mental breakdown, but the character is all new to us so it’s just not that impactful. Often, that one secondary character who’ll get transformed has had spoken lines, yes, but that’s only minutes before they get akumatised.

“Kinda the same but a bit worse and missing some of the key aspects of what made the original thing so good” isn’t much of a tribute, is it?

In an earlier post, I stated that Animaestro was basically “I have watched a lot of animated shows and I know how to mimic them, the episode”. It told us nothing about animation as a medium except that it’s cool sometimes and that you get to imitate other people who are much better at the things they do than you are.

It’s not a clever metacommentary, it’s just “me likey moving pictures”. Good for you, I guess… Did you really need an entire episode to make that point?

And then you’ve got all the bad outdated shoujo tropes with characters falling on top of each other, aggressive flirting (harassment, really) from Adrien portrayed as really sweet and romantic because it’s just like in the shoujo manga (which one?) you see… And that’s just not great, is it?

Miraculous is a much better cartoon when it doesn’t try (and fail) to emulate other shows and movies and comic books and manga. The only thing it tells us about these works is that That Guy and co really like them and that copy-pasting them is the best way they’ve found to show their love. Imitation and flattery and all of that I guess.

“Look, it’s like in that scene in the anime! Did you like the anime? It sure was a good anime, and if our show makes you think about it, then it’s also good, right?”

No, you guys, I’m sorry but no. If making references was all it took to be good, then gaming webcomics would be regarded as masterpieces.

Very often, the show seems interested in being anything but itself. And it’s a shame, because there are lots of ideas the show kind of brings up but never quite touches. Marinette is interested in fashion design? That’s great, show us more of that! Make it an important part of her character, and by the same occasion, make her creations look not-laughable. Miraculous could be the first cartoon to explore what it’s like to be a biracial kid with a Chinese parent in France (would that work with a crew of almost strictly middle-aged white men is another question to which the answer is a resounding “no”). The show is set in Paris? Cool, how about exploring the city outside of its landmarks every tourist and their mom already knows?

Inexplicably, in the middle of an episode when you expect it the least, you get brilliant bits of directing that aren’t references to other works. Alya becoming Rena Rouge and her first steps as a superhero? Brilliant, really immersive, loved it, not a reference. The sad car scene in Puppeteer 2? It’s really really good, not a reference either. All the unexplored lore? It seemed really promising and having more of it would help us understand things a bit more!

People don’t just like your show because it reminds them of another show. Why watch it if you can watch that original work in the first place?

Trying to make a superficial mashup of all things you think are great in other works is not the way to do these works justice, nor is it the way to make your show interesting, let alone good.

#miraculous #ml salt #ml writers salt #ml critical #ml analysis #longpost #rwby #star wars #spider-man #adrien salt

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sissytobitch10seconds · 3 years

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Symbols of Heart

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia Summary: Four Soulmarks all the way up his forearm. A yellow monkey A white glove A pink horn A silver engine Four Soulmates, all of which he is far too terrified to meet. Warnings: Eating disorders, depression, anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, suicide attempts, mentions of abuse, mentions of childhood neglect, bad mental health, poor relationships, and mental health recovery, transphobia, transphobic characters, transphobic slurs, and physical fights Word Count: approx. 40,000 Chapters: 16 Ship(s): Shinsou Hitoshi/Iida Tenya/Ashido Mina/Hagakure Tooru/Ojiro Mashiro

Archive link!

Chapter 1: Anxieties

“Kara, come here,” the elderly, soothing voice called out from the wheelchair that was parked in the corner of the room. The purple-haired girl looked up from the book that she had been reading by the delicate fire blazing in the fireplace. She placed it down carefully before she rushed over to where her grandmother was sitting. “Sit on my lap, child,” she cooed, patting her legs with a gentle smile.

She did as she was told, sitting down carefully. “What is it, Grandmother?” she asked curiously. The elderly woman had always made her read before bed and never before had she interrupted that time, so her doing so now only spiked the child’s curiosity.

“I would like to tell you a story. Something that you will need for your entire life,” she answered, her eyes becoming distant and wistful. “Do you know where Soulmarks come from?”

“Everyone is born with a Soulmark,” she answered, fidgeting a bit sheepishly. “And they get bolder until you meet your Soulmate.”

“Correct,” the older woman said, her voice sounding wondrously prideful. She raised her sleeve a bit, exposing her arm. The wrinkled skin held a small white heart with a black lock in the middle of it.“This is my Soulmark, and your grandfather’s. Do you know where they came from originally? The tale of how humans were blessed with Soulmates?”

“No,” Kara shook his head, causing long purple hair to fall over her shoulder and in front of her violet eyes.

“It started in Greece. Humans were originally made of beings with multiple heads and limbs. Though they all only had one heart, shared with multiple souls. One day, the human all tried to climb up the mountain to get to the places where the Gods lived despite being warned not to,” the elderly woman began to ramble. On her lap, her granddaughter listened intently. “The Gods grew angry, and as a punishment, they split them up into what we think of as humans now. Two arms, two legs, one head, and one soul, but the hearts were all broken into pieces. Soon, the other Gods from elsewhere heard what had happened and did the same thing to the humans that they were ruling over, as a way to make sure that the Greeks were getting properly punished. Once all of the humans were split up, they were forced elsewhere across the world. They were all hurting and aching as they tried to find the people that they had once been connected with. After quite some time, Aphrodite, one of the Greek Gods got together with the other Gods of love, and they all formed Soulmarks. Now, our Soulmarks lead us to those that we love.”

“Are mother and father Soulmates?” Kara asked, remembering every time that she had heard the two of them shouting at each other like they were nemeses.

“Yes, they are. Even if they do not get along as well as your grandfather and I do. Not everyone loves their Soulmate in the same way. Some people just find their best friends in their Soulmate, some people find their life partners,” the woman explained, putting her hand on the young girl’s back as she sensed her getting upset.

“Does everyone have only one Soulmate?” she asked, her arm immediately flying to her lower arm where her four Soulmarks rested.

“No, little one,” her grandmother soothed, placing a careful hand on her arm. “You are very special. You have four Soulmates who will love and care for you. Though you must love and care for them just as much as they do for you.”

“What if they don’t love me?” she asked, getting a bit unsure. If all five of them were Soulmates, there had to be a chance that they wouldn’t love her.

“Kara,” her grandmother sighed, the name making the little girl flinch a bit. The elderly woman took notice of the flinch but chose not to say anything about it. “It is impossible for someone to not love you. Even if they do not want you as a romantic partner, or if you do not want them as a romantic partner, they will love you in a way.”

“Promise?” she asked, holding up her hand with only her pinky finger up.

“I promise,” her grandmother answered, wrapping her shaky pinky finger around the young girl’s.

Hitoshi blinked as he woke up, tears pushing out of his eyes and running down his face. It had been so long since he had thought about the memory of his grandmother.

So much had changed since then, and it was truly the last calm moment that he had had with her. She had passed away almost two weeks later, leaving his grandfather grieving so much that he had passed away a month later. It had been completely world-shattering for him to lose both of his grandparents in such quick succession of each other. They had been his primary caretakers seeing as his parents were rarely ever home.

He had been six when he had to learn to take care of himself. He had learned how to make breakfast from his grandmother before she passed away and lunch was served at school, so he hadn’t had to worry about either of those. Dinner had been harder, which left him so hungry that his stomach hurt most days. He lost scary amounts of weight until he had been so thin that his teacher called the police on his parents. His home life was thoroughly investigated. He was removed from his home when it had been deemed unsafe, and given to a foster parent that didn’t want another troubled kid.

He had only lasted there for about three months before he was passed onto the next home. He spent the next three years being moved from home to home to home, never finding anyone that wanted to keep a malnourished, ‘freak’ of a kid. Having that happen only made his already existing anxiety ten times worse. He had been nine when he realized that the reason that he kept getting passed around was the fact that he had four Soulmarks on his arm. Another reason was that he had started asking to be called Hitoshi instead of Kara as he discovered that he related less and less with the female identity.

When he was ten, he fell into the only foster home that kept him for more than six months. They also fully accepted him when it came to his name and pronouns. They had even gone so far as to ask the school he was attending to call him by his preferred name and pronouns as well. They didn’t have any other foster kids, so they paid a lot of their attention to him.

When he was twelve, he was diagnosed with PTSD from the trauma he had experienced when he was six and began to go to therapy. That same year, the couple that was fostering him adopted him. Just as his thoughts traveled to the couple that he now called his dads, one of them knocked on his door.

“Hitoshi, get up,” Shouta called out, his voice just as tired and put out as he felt. The purple-haired boy groaned just loud enough that his adoptive father could hear him as he pushed himself off of his bed. He paused, waiting for the tell-tale sounds of footsteps walking away from his bedroom door. Once he heard them he shed his night clothes and grabbed his new school uniform. He was still disgruntled from the more than vivid dream that he had had, meaning that it was harder to get his binder to fit than it was on most days.

He stumbled out of his room almost ten minutes later, finally dressed into the uniform for the high school that he was going to be attending. It was early in the morning, earlier than most students would be up on their first day of school. He had to go to the school with his adoptive dads, who both taught there. “Remember to take your meds,” Hizashi called from where he was sitting at the table.

“Yeah,” Hitoshi mumbled as he walked across the tiny hall to the bathroom. He opened the cupboard, pulling out the small prescription bottle. The pills were tiny, making it easy for him to swallow even on days where he woke up feeling so anxious that his throat closed off. His stomach rolled a bit as he grabbed one of the pills out of the bottle. The thought of having to eat or drink anything was incredibly unappealing, but he knew that everything would be ten times more awful if he didn’t take the meds. He took a deep breath, soothing himself a bit before he tossed his head back and forced the entire mouthful of water down his throat with the pill.

He shuffled back to the kitchen, rubbing his throat as he tried to soothe himself. Both of his adoptive fathers sat at the table, Shouta having his morning cup of coffee that he always needed to fully wake up. “You ready for your first day of school?” Hizashi asked, looking away from where he been staring at his husband.

“Not really,” he sighed, sitting down at the only other seat at the table. He reached behind him, stretching a bit to grab the fidget cube that he had on the bookcase by the wall. His hands fell into his lap as he began to play with it.

“What are you worried about?” Shouta asked, peeking out at him from over his coffee cup. “With both of us working there it’s not like you’ll get bullied like you did in middle school. We’ll make damn sure of that.”

“Shouta, swearing, You should get out of that habit before we start teaching again,” Hizashi huffed, looking at his husband for a minute before he turned back to adoptive son. “Middle school is really the worst part of everyone’s life, everything gets a little bit better in high school.”

“Dad, I get that you’re trying to help, but the kids kind of a had a reason for bullying me. No one has four Soulmates, it’s weird.”

“Not really. Having a weird set of Soulmates is pretty much normal at this school. One of your other teachers has two Soulmates who aren’t Soulmates with each other, just with him. Having several Soulmates isn’t weird, you’re just special,” Shouta rambled, staring down into the dark brown liquid that filled his mug.

“Okay. Whatever. I still have to go to school regardless of whether or not I want to,” he sighed, rolling his eyes a bit. He tugged on his sleeves, trying to hide the marks that peaked out of the bottom of his uniform.

He had four Soulmarks, one of which was planted so low on his arm that it peeked out from underneath his sleeve. The one at the top was an intricate yellow monkey. The one underneath it was a white glove, and then a pink horn. The one on his wrist was a silver engine. He had spent a lot of sleepless night staring at them, wondering who might be looking at the same Soulmarks, wondering why they had been blessed with four Soulmates instead of the normal one. As he waited for his fathers to say that it was time to go, his mind strayed to what kind of people his Soulmates would be.

The yellow monkey, would they be joyous and playful? Would they have blond hair? Would they be the class clown, or would they be the prankster?

The white glove, would they be rich? Or would they be deaf? Would they love Winter when they got to wear gloves? Or would they work in a garden?

The pink horn, would they like animals? Did they even like the color pink? Were they bullheaded? Or maybe they were aggressive?

The silver engine, were they rich? Or were they a mechanic? Would they smell like gasoline and oil? Would they be brilliant? Or would they be a burly man who was only good for moving heavy things?

Those were only some of the questions that had raced through his mind during his sleepless, fidgeting nights spent worrying. But there was always one that terrified him more than anything.

Would they accept him for being trans?

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sourbat · 3 years

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General, 9 for butter knife? 🥺

“Are they Dead?”

Summary: Charles surprises Magnus with dinner and a show. Guest starring Trindle and Melmord.

Warning: imprisonment; implied Stockholm Syndrome

It was late in the evening when, after another day filled with repetitious meandering in his cell, two hoods surprised Magnus with their unannounced presence. They gave no clues as to where they were taking Magnus, only wheeled him through the unseen, narrow corridors, and warned him when they were about to turn so he could bring his legs close. There was little point in asking any questions; the gears never shared what was in store for Magnus, and it wasn’t like he could flee once unstrapped from the wheelchair if they bothered to provide any unsavory news.

They wheeled him into what he assumed was a security room of some kind. It was the interior of a dark, massive shaft (perhaps the neck?) that stretched several levels high. Magnus rode up the elevator, gears at his side, trying to make some meaning of the red, eerie flashes caught between the levels: brief glimpses of klokateers heavily armed, others in front of computer monitors, a couple carting massive loads of what hopefully wasn’t bodies.

Charles greeted him at the topmost level, offering a silent nod the moment the sliding doors parted. One look around the large, blood-red dome had Magnus screaming “central hub.” The room was lined with screens, cameras and flashing lights, and klokateers attentively typing and clicking away at whatever task assigned to them. Magnus desired nothing more than to comment on Charles’ profuse megalomania, but as he was carted forward, caught the smell of something heavenly in the air that had his mouth filling with saliva.

Charles approached, passing Magnus’ left and briefly vanishing from existence, save for the sounds of his heels hitting the floor. “I hope he wasn’t any trouble. Take him to the table, then lock the wheels. I’ll take it from there.”

“Of course, Master Offdensen.”

The source of the delicious scents took the form of a small, clothed table set in front of a gigantic monitor. Adorning it was a set of finely polished silverware, napkins and crystal wine glasses. Magnus allowed his stare to linger on the knife resting beside a fork. A klokateer set Magnus on the side opposite to a single, empty chair. While the first gear locked his wheels into place, the second lifted a silver cover, unveiling a plate of the nicest looking steak Magnus had ever laid eyes on, with butter still melting and oozing all over the steaming center.

“What’s the occasion?”

“A celebration,” Charles answered plainly, taking his seat and giving the second gear permission to remove the cover to his meal. He returned, brows lifting slightly when met with Magnus’ befuddlement. “You don’t know?”

Magnus wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. Charles, his only source of information, the well of knowledge from which he refused to drink from. Not that it mattered. Thirsty or not, Charles would eventually supply him with a drop of the bucket, even if it meant forcing it down Magnus’ unwilling throat. Toki’s lapse in therapy, Miss Remeltindtdrinc’s continued success, news of Magnus’ past altercations with annoying hoods, a physician’s request for a change of prescription, or a paltry report detailing unveiled portions of an unfair prophecy.

He stared nervously at the delectable meal resting before him. The decadent smell of garlic mashed potatoes covered in scallions, and the pop of a klokateer freeing the cork from a bottle of dark red wine, alerted him that the information to be revealed could be drastic, potentially life-ending.

He grinned. “Refresh me.”

Charles took a napkin, placing it over his leg. “I’ve checked this month’s reports,” he said, grabbing a knife and fork. “You’ve been taking your vitamins. You, ah, also gained seven pounds.”

Magnus rolled his eyes. “Wonderful. Weight I cannot easily shave off.”

“You’re still under by twelve, but with some work, will be at a healthy weight.” Charles cut into the steak. It bled and oily, reddish bubbly broth that stewed near the roasted vegetables.

Magnus’s hand drifted over his silverware, unsure to take the knife. “And this warrants a steak?”

Since being locked in Mordhaus, the daily meals sent to his room, while a far cry from the fast food he used to sustain himself with, wasn’t nearly as rich in smell and appearance as the meal before him. Magnus picked up the knife. Charles continued to cut his, sawing a small piece of meat which he jabbed and picked up with his fork. Hesitantly, Magnus did the same. As far as he could tell, no gears had their weapons aimed at him, but he still gingerly brought the blade down in case someone trigger-happy hood mistook his hunger as a desperate try for revenge against Charles.

Charles swallowed. “No, your compliance.”

Magnus had made it as far as cutting himself a tasty morsel when the word smacked him across the face.

“It’s been several long, grueling months.” Charles shoveled a lump of creamy, golden mashed potatoes with his fork.

Grueling didn’t accurately cover the anguish Magnus endured since falling victim to Charles’ whims. Being locked in a tiny room, deprived of fresh air sunlight unless he behaved, performed simple tasks upon being handed the instruction, or forced to tolerate Charles’ presence and spend his days alongside him, working together and transcribing old English to unveil more hints of the incoming apocalypse. If he snapped at too many klokateers, refused a meal, medication, vitamins or Charles, then he was ignored, left without any means of entertainment other than the memories that persisted to haunt and fill Magnus’ nights with dread. He spent days alone with no books to read, puzzles to complete, pen or paper to bide through the long, endless hours. Not a person to acknowledge him, nor clock on the wall or light switch to help give a sense of time, no matter how false.

A few rounds of absolute, agonizing silence were all it took for Magnus to determine fighting Charles simply wasn’t worth the trouble. Magnus could handle manipulation, a fist to the face and a threat to his life, but Charles was hitting him where it hurt most, and Magnus couldn’t bear another reminder of his nonexistence, and not from the man he once loved so dearly. A man who, despite the cruelty, still cared for him. As difficult as it was to comprehend, Charles never laid a finger on Magnus, physically harmed or dared to take advantage of his current physical limitations, restricting all forms of punishment to just mental and emotional. And when the punishment finally ended, Charles always reintroduced Magnus to his bookshelves, television and access to the yard. He apologized when giving a punishment, explained his line of reasoning, and was quick to provide condolences when it was over, hands always reaching, hovering or ghosting over Magnus’ gaunt form, but never making contact unless given explicit permission. True, it could be just as well that Charles was enacting his own divine punishment, proving to Magnus that he didn’t need to harm him to make him bend, but since living within the harsh, deprecating confines of Mordhaus, Magnus wanted to believe this wasn’t the case.

Surely, the man serving him medium rare steak and French champagne was doing this as an act of tolerance, friendship even?

Charles continued: “You’ve been far from agreeable…but now.”

The words gripped Magnus by the throat, rendering him silent. Utensils lowered, their stares met one another’s. Magnus expected a snicker, eyes confidently framed into slits to better make out his discontent. Instead, Magnus couldn’t tell if it was just him, or the combination of bubbly alcohol and a candlelit dinner, but Charles stared at him with a smile he hadn’t seen in years. There were round, lifted cheeks, and that all-too straight grin that almost crossed the line from being endearing, to becoming a tad awkward.

“I feel like I can rely on you,” Charles said, “Like, ah…like we used to, when we were young.”

Charm aside, it was a difficult pill to swallow. Magnus dropped his stare, to his once decadent meal. It was hard to keep an appetite upon learning the meal was a celebration for his submission.

A hand settled over Magnus’ right. His eyes returned to Charles, and upon the second glance, made out those small features he spent hours admiring during long nights spent waiting for the bus, in line, or just from sharing the same space. Sharp tip of the nose that always glowed under the smallest of lights. Perfectly shaped eyebrows. The very subtle way the glasses hung down the bridge when he lowered his head to meet him.

Magnus stabbed at his roasted parsnips, finding it equally difficult to be mad at the man who continued to offer help during bathing, purchased whatever form of literature he demanded, when he was acting in accordance. He picked at his meal, taking small bites and savoring the rich taste of butter, fluffy texture of potatoes and steak that melted in his mouth. The few glances he made at Charles, no matter how brief, were always met with positivity.

Something about it frightened him.

“I have something I want to show you.”

Upon completion of their meal, Charles called a klokateer from the red depths of the room, and then offered Magnus two thick files. Magnus opened the first, revealing the photo of a young woman dressed entirely in high-end gothic fashion, staring wildly at him. The first thing he noticed about her was that she was a stranger, an unknown he’d never engaged with in his entire life. Yet, he knew there was a connection, something that Charles connected with him.

Magnus rolled a thumb over the faded blur of her nose piercing, eyes briefly engaging with the uniqueness of her name, then closed the folder. “What’s this?”

Charles snapped a finger. “Special cases.”

Klokateer approached with a tray. While they replaced Magnus’ wine glass with smaller, round cups, he picked up the second file, and like before, met another smile, this time from a man. Unlike the goth, the man in the photo appeared lax, if not in a slight, distant daze. The blond highlights in his hair made Magnus want to connect the man with the goth-woman; the goatee and length of his hair made Magnus hesitant to try and tie the stranger with him.

After locating the name, and finding it equally as alien as the woman’s, Magnus sighed. On the other side of the table, Charles was waiting, patiently.

Magnus lowered the second file. “Are they dead?”

The candles’ embers flickered. A devious smile manifested across Charles’ ivory face. Another snap from his long fingers, and the gigantic monitor resting before them turned on, sending Magnus into a state of shock. His wheelchair jolted as he tried backing away from the now active screen, locked wheels keeping him in place while he gathered himself. Displaying on the screen were two people in a small room. A rec room, with a few old arcade games, display cased lines with boxes, an old couch, and a long, rectangular table. Magnus squinted his eyes, making out the dark blur of a shapely figure standing at one end of the table, picking up a paddle and ball. Magnus recognized her as the same woman from the file. He turned to the second figure standing on the opposite side, a tall man with a broad frame, shoulder-length hair, and carrying a lazy grin.

They were playing ping-pong.

A ball bounced from one side to the next as the two jumped, stretched, and did what they could to earn a point. If Magnus didn’t know any better, he’d assume this was just a friendly game between acquaintances, but the files on the table, and the curious glint in Charles’ eyes, told Magnus there was something far more ominous at hand.

Just as Magnus turned from the screen, caught something hanging in the corner of the cluttered room. A calendar, and when Magnus set his eyes upon it, turned sickly pale at the discovery of the month.

“They’re like you,” Charles suddenly began, his voice a faint echo while Magnus slowly drew away from the calendar, back to the two unknowns playing ping-pong. “Dead to the world, but–”

“A never-ending source of entertainment for you,” Magnus harshly bit back. A hand hit the edge of the table, pulling some of the cloth down. Charles remained seated, but his chair had groaned, dragging from the unannounced outburst. Magnus heard it, and he took and rolled with it, hoping it would serve and supply him strength against Charles.

“I always knew you were a control freak, but this…” Magnus gestured morosely at the screen. “I must say, the voyeurism is taking me by surprise.”

“It’s necessary to monitor prisoners.” Charles appeared calm, but his hands were clasped tightly together, wrinkles deepening from the lowered brow and frown, and patience nearing its untimely end. Still the answer was quick, short and to the bloody point. It was, like everything else that came from Charles, practical to the point of being insufferable.

Magnus humored the idea of their being cameras in his room, and Charles, his once beloved, using the very same excuse to watch him struggle each time he transitioned from chair to bed, chair to toilet, chair to floor.

Frustrated, he heaved a dry laugh. “And you’re quite sure you never read the works of Harlan Ellison?”

Charles didn’t answer. Magnus hit the table again, sending one of the candles to topple on its side. The flame died on its way down, but the effect was immediate. Weapons were drawn, and Magnus could see fine red dots pin-pointed all over his arm, and when he fell back into the wheelchair, saw a dozen more spread across his chest.

Unaffected, Charles waited until Magnus sank into the wheelchair, momentarily defeated.

“Would you like to meet them?”

“Is that a threat?” Magnus asked, arms crossed, the only act of defiance he could get away with.

“An invitation,” Charles insisted, as though it changed a damn thing.

For whatever reason, Charles outstretched his arm, hand hoping to return and rest upon Magnus like it had minutes ago. When it crossed the halfway mark, Magnus withdrew, going as far back into his seat as he could without having to drag his lower half with him.

Charles sighed, dejected. “I know it must be lonely, what with you, ah–”

Magnus opened his mouth, ready to lash at Charles for even trying. He saw the calendar. Whether he’d been handed a live recording, or something saved from days, even weeks before, nothing could change the terrifying knowledge he had picked up on when his eye set on the estimated date.

A year. He’d been locked in Mordhaus for a year, and never noticed! Time had blended, blurred and stagnated into a concrete wall that he couldn’t pass nor break. He was getting along better with Charles, tolerating him and almost…a year. Charles had been training him for an entire year, and now, after months of arguing, spitting out his meds, saying nasty words and refusing to wheel himself around, Charles was celebrating a year of them together, and of the slow, but now blatantly apparent improvement of his condition from having broken Magnus at some point.

“I figured, after you and I finished with the scriptures, you might be willing to offer a helping hand with these two.”

And he had broken him, to some extent. Otherwise, why the candles, the steak and that smile? Why let him use a knife tonight, when so many other nights he’d been handed only the plastic spork, later the spoon and fork, but only when in the company of gears? The comment about his weight, about the future hard work to come; it all amounted to Magnus surrendering, complying with Charles and doing whatever it took to remain noticed, acknowledged, alive.

“Well?” Charles’ voice broke through the fury building inside Magnus. “What do you think?”

His nails dug into the tablecloth. “And why would I ever consider aiding you in training additional human pets?” Magnus snapped. His entire chair lurched alongside him, dragging forward and colliding his lower abdomen against the table. Magnus barely noticed, too fixated on Charles’ calm, unmoving demeanor. The smug bastard. Magnus threw another fist at the table, sending his cappuccino to teeter near the end, threatening to fall and shatter. “Really Charles, you know how jealous I can get. Me, sharing another man with you? And a woman? Ha!”

He had done an excellent job refraining from bringing up their old flame, a mere pile of ashy white cinders long since carried off by the cruel, cold winds of fate. Charles had no problem hinting at it, calling forth old memories in a futile attempt to sway Magnus towards his favor, but until now Magnus’ pride had forbidden him to going so low as to attack Charles with stories of walks across the park, going to concerts to sight out potential competition and talent, or nights spent smoking and dreaming aloud.

Not anymore. Magnus undid the harness keeping his legs in place. He pressed his left arm on top of the table, elbow held firm under his weight. With this right, he dragged himself up, using the table for support as he tried to create some height over Charles.

“Let me guess? They’re exes of yours as well?” Magnus heaved a little as he lifted himself, lame legs adrift in a senseless void. Charles’ eyes finally gave to emotion, widening as Magnus carried himself using rage alone. “They piss you off, too? Didn’t like your prudish attitude? Your compulsive behavior? Tell me, Allied Mastercomputer, other than the fact that you own me body and soul, why the hell should I help you, huh?”

The words spat out, flicking and landing across Charles’ spectacles. He flinched, head and neck reacting to the meager onslaught, then returned to their usual placements. Magnus watched, arms shaking under his weight, while Charles picked up his napkin and removed his glasses to clean the lens. As he did, Magnus’ right elbow locked, and he slipped back. Though he couldn’t feel it, he knew his legs tripped over themselves, and were it not for a klokateers hastily grabbing him by the arms and guiding him back to his chair, Magnus knew he’d have likely fallen to the floor and be made a fool in front of Charles.

He wasn’t sure if this was any better.

No. He was still the fool in this scenario.

“I’ll grant you your legs back.”

Magnus slumped, eyes blank at the promise.

Charles lifted his glasses up the light, nose wrinkling slightly at the smudges that remained, and nothing more. “What’s more, I’ll grant you some privileges, allow you to traverse the hidden pathways on your own.”

Cruel words hardly had any meaning, anymore. And what was the point of trying to give the illusion of height, when both very well knew Magnus couldn’t so much as stand without the use of a wall, pole or beam? Was it even standing, or just support? Was it even support if he constantly leaned, dragged down by his broken body’s weight, bodily dysphoria that mapped out an incomplete form?

“What do you say, Magnus?” Charles asked calmly. There wasn’t the smallest hint that he was angry. Quite the contrary, he appeared as hopeful as ever, like he had been when asking Magnus out on their very first date. That Charles had also been calm, smile favoring his chances, the starlight above casting a light that brought out the rosiness of his cheeks, the pink of his smile when affirmed the upcoming date.

Magnus blinked. The red hue of the room really did bring out the sharp contours of his high cheekbones, the shallow hood of his eyelids.

Magnus shook his head, and when he dropped down to witness the awkward positioning of his legs, felt Charles’ hand return to him.

There it goes, again. “Would you be willing to try?”

Magnus glanced at the thick files, no doubt filled with all the information he needed to manipulate and convince these unknown factors in his obstructively miniscule world to follow his every word. He’d done it before, had ticked greater men with less information to work with.

And to walk again…?

Magnus returned to facing the left, at the overcast monitor now displaying just the man sitting on a couch, legs and arms spread as he stared peevishly at the swaying camera observing him. The goth girl was gone. After an inhale from what looked like a cigarette, possibly a vape pen, the man waved at the security camera, and Magnus tore away, ashamed for even considering putting another person through a similar hell as his.

Charles was waiting for him at the table. “Well?”

He swallowed a lump. “What’s for dessert?”

Unmoving, Charles responded: “One of your favorites.”

The circular dome lifted, revealing a small, thin slice of dark chocolate cake, interior thick and layered with a darkening shade of increasing bitter chocolate. Surrounding it were several, plump little raspberries, and just as Magnus was handed a new spoon, a klokateer poured a bright, vibrant pink syrup over the slice. Like dinner, few words were shared between the two. His appetite long gone, Magnus struggled to make due and distracted himself with small bites that tasted less sweet each time his eyes caught the man in the monitor switching between the various forms of entertainment, and looking up to ponder over the unknown taking delight in his situation.

Magnus licked his lips, tasting the tart syrup spread across his upper, and wasn’t surprised when he saw Charles watching him, eyes soft and overflowing with nostalgia. Remembering the date on the calendar, Magnus dared and tested the dark waters.

He picked up a raspberry. “Happy anniversary, Charles.”

Lowering his cappuccino, Charles replied with a hum. “Happy anniversary, Magnus.”

#butterknife #magnus hammersmith #charles foster offdensen #melmord fjordslorn #trindle #getting-sloppy #thank you #this world is getting big #what will magnus do next

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broken-minded-love · 3 years

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@sad-sweet-cowboah Hope you don’t mind if I start a new post here, I don’t want to prolong the debate by doing this, but I still have some things to say and the other post is getting kind of ridiculous and is hard to reply to due to it’s length. I’ll quote a few things from the original thread to keep it linked in reply and physically here for posterity. [...I know it makes me seem suspicious but I have a habit of reading things without saving them, etc...] I appreciate that you wouldn’t keep track like that, who does? However, I can’t see any credit given to HOGO or her work on your blog/story before the original call out drama in 2019? Obviously you may have done that privately, but I know how fandoms work and there’s a lot of mutual backscratching in drama’s like this so it seems impossible to truly validate any of this independently, which is a shame. Perhaps it was my mistake, but when you said you’d been inspired by HOGO’s fics I assumed she’d written a full fic. I can’t find an actual chaptered fan fic following videogame Arthur in modern times from HOGO, and nothing of him in that setting by himself. It all seems to be involving the gang too, which is quite a different dynamic to what occurs in your series and Wish Upon. I can see how it would be difficult to keep track of HOGO’s posts, even if you were trying too, because I can see dozens of drabbles, but nothing as a titled fic you could keep track of. I can also see why those little scenes and dialogs may have inspired you, but as I said I can’t see any credit for the inspiration as you claimed? Besides which, it’s all kind of a moot point, because I think the bigger issue seems to be less about the initial inspiration and more about the timing and direct comparisons that can be drawn between your series and Wish Upon. [...I also included the-awkward-outlaw’s series as an example since you mentioned previously that it’s a “very niche” topic when it’s more popular than one would think. ...] Well, yes, it is now, but it wasn’t to begin with. Ever since the onset of this drama, I’ve only seen a tiny handful of attempts at covering Arthur in the modern world in a fic, which still makes it niche when you compare to the volume of repeated themes in Red Dead fics over all. It was a completely non existent plotline (at least on AO3/FFNET) in October ‘18 through Jan ‘19, and the game had been out for three months already when @miss-oscurita published Wish Upon. Yet no one had stepped up to bring us a story covering the concept of video game Arthur alive in 2018/9. The reason Wish Upon hooked me personally, was because it was completely different to the numerous “damsel in distress”, “highborn babe”, “tough outlaw chick” that were a dime a dozen. There was also several “modern reader goes back in time” stories too, but Wish Upon was the first incarnation of Arthur coming out of the game into the modern world, in an actual fic at least. No doubt the idea could have been circulating, but no one had actually taken the time to put it into an actual story to my knowledge. Does that mean Oscurita should hold a monopoly on the idea? Of course not, but it does explain why anything that followed Wish Upon’s publication, including TOA’s recent works, will be bound to draw comparisons simply because Wish Upon was first on the scene to cover the topic, and as a result is likely the most well known version of it. I think the real issue here isn’t who all’s covered Arthur living in modern times, it’s more the issue over the dynamic where the protag is familiar with him as a character, because the dynamic of the pairing and the story itself changes so much when it’s explored from that angle. The dynamic is also affected when the fic focuses only on the two main characters (as with the gang being in the modern world in HOGO’s concepts) especially when they are both aware he’s fictional that it’s really something that can only be done once, maybe twice at a push. And yes you’d have to be certifiable to believe ideas won’t overlap, I mean it’s going to be a really hollow story if you don’t cover things like Arthur using a microwave, or using a toothbrush and showering for the first time, or learning to drive, discovering movies and what not. However, from what I seen over the course of this matter, it seems the issue with it all lies in how and when these elements are explored in the story. I may be wrong, but I don’t think there’s ever been an issue raised with any other parts of your series beyond that of As We Meet, has there? And the issues raised over the original instalment and the rewritten piece seemed to be because it essentially follows the exact pattern of Wish Upon’s first few chapters, as we’ve already discussed.

[... I’m 99% positive the catalyst was a h-o-g-o oneshot of Arthur discovering lingerie...]

Funny that you should mention discovering lingerie when @miss-oscurita’s most recent update included Arthur discovering modern underwear for the first time. I don’t recall in which of your stories he did that?

Just in the interest of being informed, I searched HOGO’s blog and found a chapter mentioning lingerie (which I assume is the one that inspired you?) but that in itself is a classic example of how the same idea can be done by two different people and still be complete different.

Which I’m sorry to say really only further highlights why the similarities in your opening chapters are such a cause for concern.

Regardless of the inspiration, if we list the similarities we have from the original piece, and the rewrite the issues are pretty clear.

1) Young female gamer protag.

2) Modern day setting.

3) Both have adopted silver tabby cats.

4) Both have the backdrop of being alone on a stormy night.

5) Both involved with an event that brings Arthur out of the game.

6) Both aware of him as a fictional character before being a flesh and blood man.

4) Both immediately assume him to be an intruder.

5) Both think they are dreaming and pinch themselves.

6) Both use touch as a way to confirm he’s there in the flesh.

7) Both fics use the same name for animals.

8) Both fics almost immediately go on to explore Arthur showering, discovering cellphones, watching TV/movies, using a microwave, in almost the exact same order. 9) Both use some variation of the “my Arthur” device.

Then in the rewrite you make changes to also include:

10) Both use his horse to confirm he’s ripped straight from the game.

11) Both use extremely similar types of names for the horses.

12) Both work from home, for one reason or another. Seeing it written out like that I can more understand why people have red flagged it, as it goes a bit beyond simply exploring the same concept as the likes of HOGO/TAO may be doing. I mean it was bound to flare things up to include additional similar elements. What I don’t get is, knowing how toxic the fandom is, and that you’re under the microscope over this, why you didn’t take the rewrite as an opportunity to distance yourself from those similarities? And if I’m brutally frank with you here, it does come across as a bit of “drama farming” when you know the consequences of similarities all too well. And what I still don’t get is how you’ve not managed to move away from these controversies? I’m a lot of a loser, and have kept an eye on this drama since it began and I have to say when you interjected with the other drama around Wish Upon late last year, that came across to me as looking for drama, or at least being lead to it by someone else somewhere. I don’t know where you got the tip off for that, because the post wasn’t tagged and I only saw it due to following @miss-oscurita/you on my fandom account and the other writer in question was very new to the RDR fandom and likely didn’t have much of a following. Add that to the poor wording on the announcements of your rewrites and you know, I’m sure it’s innocent on your part, but I can see why it doesn’t look good to others. I mean I could easily believe you were trying to avoid making the stories similar and accidentally included the horse thing simply because your ideas and the ideas from Wish Upon merged, because unless you’re able to keep them firmly separate in your head it’s going to happen now you know of Wish Upon. If it was me, I’d be doing my best to not give anyone any more reason to throw shit at my house. Instead you’ve somehow managed to do the opposite. The rewrite was a missed opportunity to draw a line under all the past drama, and that’s disappointing to see as a reader and a writer too. I do hope you manage to sort this all out, and that there’s no further public bashing over it all but now the seal is broken on it all it’ll be very hard to prevent the sharks smelling the tiniest drop of blood in the water.

#writing #fan fic dramas #not going to tag this for fandom to avoid inflaming the situation further #sad-sweet-cowboah #miss-oscurita

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adobe-outdesign · 4 years

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Little something for everyone while y’all are in quarantine. Part 2 coming whenever.

Transcript under the cut:

Five Nights at Freddy’s. Where do we even start with this one? FNAF is probably one of the most confusing games out there when it comes to trying to figure out what the hell happened in it. Everyone has their own opinions and interpretations, so I figured I’d provide my own.

Do keep in mind that I’m not going to cover every single part of the lore, as some of it’s fairly self-explanatory. Instead, I’m going to focus mostly on FNAF 4, as that’s where this Gordian Knot of confusion really stems from.

Be warned, this video’s going to contain something truly scary: OPINIONS. [scream effect] Yes, my views on the lore are much different than everyone else’s, so don’t get your springlocks set off just because my theories don’t align with yours. Because for starters…

[Why I don’t think Michael is the brother]

[Mob noises]

Okay, okay, hear me out. Basically, there are two main family in FNAF: There’s the Aftons, comprised of William, Elizabeth and Michael. Then there’s the - is this really their name? Really? okay - Emilys, comprised of Henry and Charlie.

However, in the books Charlie had a brother named Sammy. So the question is, is Sammy canon? And the answer is yes: During Stage 01, we see one of the kids disappear when left alone with Spring Bonnie, which parallels Sammy slash Charlie’s kidnapping in Fredbear’s by William.

This raises another question though: Who is Sammy in canon, then? And I’ll jut outright say it: He’s the Bitten Child. Yeah, I’m kind of amazed more people don’t realize this. The Fredbear Plush is implied to be possessed by Charlie, as its talk about putting the Bitten Child back together parallels the Puppet giving cake in Happiest Day, and the empty girl’s room indicates that the Bitten Child has a dead sister - her being the Plush explains why the Fredbear Plush cares so much about the welfare of this random kid.

Likewise, Charlie and Sammy were twins. The Bitten Child and Charlie have the same blocky sprites, and they both have brown hair and brown eyes.

Most importantly, the Bitten Child is spirited to look exactly like the Puppet. Given that he isn’t the one possessing it, the only way this makes sense if the two were related.

Finally, the Bitten Child freaks the hell out when approached by an employee in a Fredbear suit, and the Fredbear plush says that he’ll “know what happens if he catches you”. Many people believe this means the Bitten Child witnessed the children being murdered, but it’s too early in the timeline for that - Phone Guy says in 2 that the Freddy’s where the murders occurred was shut down and left to rot afterward. The restaurant in 4 is still open, meaning the murders haven’t occurred yet - given some other context, it’s likely they died in 1985.

The only other incident the Bitten Child could be reacting to… would be the kidnapping back in Fredbear’s, where William stole one of the twins while in a Spring Bonnie suit. And the only way he would know about it is if he was there during the kidnapping - which is enough for me to say with confidence that the Bitten Child is indeed Sammy.

Also, Sister Location has a lot of kidnapping references. [I kidnapped you.]

Especially in the Immortal and the Restless. Vlad represents William throughout the games - not dong much in FNAF 1, working the night shift in 2, being in the burning building in 3, and the hidden scene representing Baby not killing Michael who she thinks is William. And what is said every episode?

[The baby isn’t mine]

The baby isn’t his because Sammy literally isn’t William’s child; he’s Henry’s.

However, if the Bitten Child is Sammy, then that means this [Older Brother footage] cannot be Michael.

Now, I know all of you smart people out there are already thinking the obvious: The books are an AU. Couldn’t Sammy be the one kidnapped in canon, thus allowing Michael to still be the Brother? And to that I say: …Yeah. If you want to work with Michael being the Brother, then this is the best way to do it, and it’s entirely possible this is the correct answer. …But with that said, I’m not entirely convinced.

[Why Charlie was kidnapped and not Sammy]

For starters, there’s the simple question of motivation. Why would WIlliam be raising Henry’s kid? Killing kids is kind of his M.O.. Even in the books, he killed the child he kidnapped. The idea of him kidnapping and raising a kid is even brought up in the Fourth Closet… then dismissed because it would be out of character for him, which would be strange if he did exactly that in canon.

As established earlier, Sammy also remembers the kidnapping, which would make it weird if he was the one kidnapped and yet is just allowed to freely wander the neighborhood. What’s to stop him from telling someone else, or even just running away?

Moving on to actual evidence, the map in SL’s breaker room lists the FNAF 4 house and the minigame house as two separate observation areas. This could be to differentiate the two for the player, but I don’t know why they’d be separated in-universe unless they were two separate houses. This would also explain why the living rooms don’t look the same and why the grandfather clock is in two different locations.

Likewise, the Fredbear Plush has either a camera or a walkie-talkie in it to spy on Sammy. However, the private room also reveals that William has the FNAF 4 gameplay house bugged. He shouldn’t need to use the Fredbear Plush to spy on Sammy, given that he can watch him both through the house cameras and the (presumable) cameras in Fredbear’s - unless Sammy is still in Henry’s house, which would force William to slip a camera into the place discreetly.

Speaking of the minigame house, there are a few parallels between it and Henry’s house in the books. The house was connected to an underground location in the Twisted Ones, just like it’s connected to the Sister Location in canon. And one of the rooms contains a tiny toy animatronic - just like the ones Henry built for Charlie in the Silver Eyes.

Continuing on that train of thought, let’s look at that tiny Toy Mangle. Assuming the Toy Chica principle is in place here - that being that the literal toys in this game look the same as the Toy Animatronics - the Mangle here looks like the FNAF 2 version of Mangle, not like William’s Funtime Foxy, pointing to it being Henry’s creation and not William’s. The SL extras even reveal that Funfox was supposed to be purple at first, which doesn’t make sense if it was supposed to match the tiny toy version.

But perhaps one of the biggest pieces of evidence regarding this toy is in Mangle’s Quest. While walking, you can encounter a huge silhouette of the Puppet… which makes Mangle look toy-sized in comparison. This only makes sense if this room was Charlie’s, and the Mangle toy was hers.

This also makes sense considering that Sister Location didn’t exist at the time of 4′s release. Scott claimed you could solve the lore back then using only the first four games, and if this was Charlie’s room, you could do it by combining the knowledge of the Fredbear Plush with Sammy’s missing sister and Charlie from the novels. If this is Elizabeth’s room, the only way that could be would be if it was retconned into place behind the scenes.

Additionally, I don’t think Elizabeth’s death is the correct date for this room to be empty in 1983. Handunit says that CBEAR didn’t open until after Freddy’s closed, as it gave them the opportunity to move into the entertainment space without competition. I’d assume this also applies to the original Circus Baby’s Pizza World, which indicates Elizabeth didn’t die until after FNAF 1. Given that Michael still has eyes in FNAF 1, SL in general had to have taken place after it - it’s unlikely William waited 10+ years to finally send Michael to save her, so her death being after FNAF 1 makes more sense timeline-wise.

Meanwhile, Charlie died in the very first Freddy’s location, before the other murders. HW confirms the FNAF 4 location was this first Freddy’s, meaning that she died in 1983. This not only lines up with her death date in the Fourth Closet, but also explains why the room in 4 hasn’t been cleaned out; she only died recently.

This would also explain why Henry claims that no-one was there to save Charlie. It’s his restaurant; wouldn’t he have, like, been there and been watching her if he was the one who brought her in?

And finally, I do have one massive piece of evidence that I feel proves the idea that Charlie is the one who was kidnapped.

[Chica School Days opening]

I know, I know, stay with me. Each of Toy Chica’s husbandos in these cutscenes represent one of William’s victims and how he killed them, as proven by her talking about running over a dog which aligns with Susie’s death in both Fruity Maze and the novels. There are a total of six people she targets.

However, that’s the thing - there are six victims, one for each of the original five - and the Puppet. That means Charlie’s death has to be included in here. And yet, none of the deaths line up with what we see in the minigames… unless you assume Charlie was the one kidnapped. In which case, there is one that fits…

[Toy Chica talking about kidnapping]

There are six deaths, so Charlie must be included. If the only thing that lines up with her death is the kidnapping scene, then Charlie must have been the one who was kidnapped, not Sammy.

But that brings us back to the original problem: If Charlie was the one who was kidnapped, Sammy is still living in Henry’s house. Which means Michael is not the Brother.

[Why do people think Michael is the Brother?]

Let’s move on to explaining away some of the evidence for Michael being the Brother.

The first and most obvious piece is that we play as the Brother in FNAF 4. Michael lives in the FNAF 4 house, so he must be the Brother. Which is a fair piece of evidence. However, I do think there’s something that explains this: Midnight Motorist.

Yes, the reason this minigame has perplexed so many fans might be because they’ve been looking at the entirety of FNAF 4 wrong. Let’s start with the Yellow Guy, who’s likely Henry. Why? Well, he’s driving William’s purple car and yet isn’t purple himself, so he can’t be William yet must have a connection to him. Henry and William were friends and business partners, so the idea of this being a company car or one of them just borrowing it for the weekend makes sense.

Likewise, every minigame and cutscene in FNAF 6 pertains to one of the main characters. The Puppet minigame for, well, the Puppet; Fruity Maze for William slash Scraptrap; and Candy Cadet’s stories for Scrap Baby and Molten Freddy. Henry is the only main character who wouldn’t have something in-game pertaining to him unless this sprite is him.

Moving on, we see him interact with a green sprite. I’d wager this is Clay Burke, for no other reason other than the sprite is presumably color-coded because we know the character, and because Clay is a cop and therefore could easily kick Henry out a bar.

Out a bit from Henry’s house, we see a grave, and around the back of the house there’s a smashed window and an animatronic footprint. In the books, the Twisted animatronics specifically targeted Henry’s family, kidnapped people through aggressive means, and buried themselves during the day. Given that the Twisteds are just AU Nightmare animatronics, it’s likely one of William’s robots was trying to kidnap another one of Henry’s kids.

However, the kid being targeted doesn’t seem to be Sammy or Charlie. Henry’s wife is still present and this is a different house than the one in FNAF 4, suggesting this is early on in the timeline, as Henry got a divorce and moved shortly after the kidnapping. The kid that was targeted here was old enough to lock himself in his room and make a run for it, suggesting it wasn’t one of the two babies but rather the Brother from 4, who’s certainly enough of an Angsty Teen to lock himself in his room several times.

As we can see by the footprints and Henry’s blase attitude, it looks like the Brother escaped from the animatronic… this time. It’s likely William kept trying to kidnap him until he succeeded, locking him into his house once he was successfully captured after the Bite. The dialogue from the FNAF 4 trailer might actually apply to William; he brought home the Brother, he think he sees a ghost haunting him which is why he’s observing him in the first place, and he treats this whole thing like a sick game.

So with the FNAF 4 house out of the way, there’s only a few other pieces of evidence. The logbook shows Michael having drawn N. Fredbear… but given that the Nightmare animatronics were still in his house, it’s likely he would have seen then at some point during the night.

The logbook also indicates that Michael is Mike Schmidt from FNAF 1, with his pseudonym being a combo of his own first name and “Eggs Benedict”. FNAF 4 plays like FNAF 1 does, and you can hear one of Phone Guy’s calls in the background, meaning the Brother must have worked in the FNAF 1 location and heard Phone Guy’s messages. And while Michael does fit these requirements… there is one other character who fits them even better.

[Continued in Part 2]

#five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf 4 #five nights at freddy's 4 #older brother #michael afton #outdesign posts things #the black box #now I'm going to hide from the angry mob that is inevitably going to form because I dared to suggest michael is just michael

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