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sugar-grigri · 4 months

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I think I remember you making references to Fire Punch in a few analysis post so I assume you've read that one, but have you read Goodbye Eri, and if so do you have any particular thoughts you want to share on it? It might be my favorite, although it's hard to rank Fujimoto's works because there's something different I like about all of them.

Hi Yuta! or is it Fujimoto?

2022, Goodbye Eri is released and I'm in for a huge slap in the face! I've finally got the chance to talk about it, so thank you!

It's hard to come after the war after this one-shot has been the subject of so much analysis, interpretation and criticism. But I think it's a work that's deliberately designed to be a trap, and the first mistake would be to try absolutely hard to determine whether Goodbye Eri is true or false.

Trying to detect the true and the false is futile, not that it's really impossible, but arguments could be several pages long and the theories put forward would remain mere hypotheses because no explicit confirmation is given. Quite simply because this is not the aim of the work, nor a satisfactory way of reading it.

For example, when Yuta's father seems to be getting angry with Eri, we understand from Eri's "And Cut!!!" that it was all a set-up. So, as a good reader, we can only assume that what follows is pure reality. However, the father, now an actor, if he should play his line differently.

As another illustration, when Eri is close to death and Yuta are talking, there are a few hints that they might have a relationship, but this is denied by Yuta himself, in a discussion with Eri's friend.

The film plays with this to such an extent that all sorts of theories are possible. It could just as easily be interpreted as there being only two films (on Yuta's mother and then on Eri's death), two films but in different ways: one about Yuta's mother and a second film about Eri, as a vampire, with the end scene played by Yuta's father and by Eri before her death.

This explains why, even after Eri's death, Yuta continues to film because the film isn't actually finished yet, the editing being there to reverse the scenes played chronologically, to make it look as if Eri was still alive, and so on. ..

As you can see, it all makes sense, and our preference is purely personal because they all work. But I'm not going to play that game, because it only shows me one thing, and that's that the plot surrounding Eri is deliberately obscure.

I've seen a lot of people describe Goodbye Eri as a work about dealing with death - the way we want to remember those we've lost, etc... It's about mourning, symbolically saying goodbye, hence the title. Which is true! But it goes further than that.

Eri's plot is deliberately obscure because the right way to appropriate the work is not through her. She's the character we know least about. Physically alone, we learn that she wore glasses and braces. Mentally, she was more annoying than she seemed in the movie. Eri is a mirage in which we won't find answers, so we have to learn to say goodbye.

The only reliable information given in this OS is that everything is filmed by Yuta's phone. And in reality, you know Yuta better than Eri, so it's him you should turn to...

Hi Yuta!

Yuta is almost never shown in this OS, as he is always filming. And when he is shown accurately, it's when he's inspired by other films by watching them with Eri, in other words, he's continuing to work on his own film by watching others.

Yuta's first film began as a result of his mother's narcissistic desire, as he was celebrating his birthday, discovering his gift, a smartphone, all of which was directly taken over by his mother, who asked him to film her until she died.

By keeping only the good sides of his mother, ignoring all the abusive parts of her, Yuta does not follow his parent's wishes, he does it for himself, showing what he himself wants to retain from his childhood, his story, in order to move forward properly.

But as everything is filmed, it gives the impression that the videos have been passively lined up without any sorting, without any choice. Yuta takes his revenge because he refuses to film his mother until the day she dies, stopping before then, preferring an explosion to conclude his film. It's brutal because it's as if Yuta's tastes, his little touch of fantasy, are suddenly surfacing, while the rest of the film is just as personal, just as him. So when his film is mocked, it's a work so personal that Yuta wants to die.

It's not insignificant that it's Eri who intervenes, whose only certainty was that she loved not only the films but also Yuta's, simply because she saw not only Yuta's mother in this film but also him, whom she considered to be the best character. She wasn't revolted by the ending, because she was aware of Yuta's touch throughout the film. The same ambiguity then resurfaces, we don't know if Eri is in love with Yuta, she corrects him to say that it's these films, the two are so linked, that liking Yuta's films is tantamount to liking the teenager.

Yuta follows Eri's desire to produce a film that is above all personal to him, to the point that when Eri sees her last moments narrated by him, she sees Yuta more than herself, because she is seen through someone else's eyes.

For me, there aren't two or three films, but just one from start to finish. Because you see, we've said goodbye to Eri, we've got out of her tricky story to reflect on Yuta, but we still haven't stepped back enough. Because you know who made the film, and it's not Yuta, it's Fujimoto. So, third stage :

let's salute Fujimoto.

The film we've just seen in this OS deals with a number of overlapping themes, the way in which a loved one is portrayed, the relationship with others, death, creation, but above all, the extent to which a work is personal. Goodbye Eri is a pretext for Fujimoto to show us the extent to which even the cutting is the fruit of reflection, is already a message.

In this OS, all the boxes are in the video format of a smartphone, each moving, static shot depends on Yuta, just as each shot is in the third row, drawn by someone.

People make the mistake, like the first audience of Yuta's film about his mother, of relating to works as linear stories to be trusted, even if they film his mother every day, Yuta's editing is his way of counting a story, it is certainly not the truth in all its neutrality. It's only at the moment of the explosion, which expresses the most of Yuta's personality, that people get upset.

This offbeat, absurd explosion is something that Fujimoto punctuates in his works, yet they are both thought out and personal to him. But they are often mocked as a way of poking fun at his work. What Fujimoto is saying is that the work doesn't become brutally personal for the controversial, offbeat moments, just the way he depicts a scene from life is personal.

People believed this version of the author's mother, otherwise they wouldn't be outraged by this disgraceful way of portraying this nice woman at the end, so in itself, Yuta's film worked. But all this is just a pretext for Fujimoto to point out that he is the author of all his other works, CSM, Fire Punch, Look Back, Just Listen to the Song... They are just like another film made in response to the positive or negative reactions of the others.

Fujimoto likes to trace the common ground between these works, which respond to each other. Each one, placed side by side, is an attempt by Fujimoto to upset his audience a little more, a second or third try.

The mistake is to separate the author's touch from his work, just as we are tempted to focus more on Eri than Yuta. Just as Fujimoto reminds us through this OS, who writes, draws Goodbye Eri. The first part of CSM was turned upside down by the fact that Makima was a demon from the start, abusive to the point of being the antagonist.

A violent and abusive maternal relationship. The design of the mother is also a bit similar. Mentions of the breasts, something that also went down quite a bit and left its mark on a lot of readers because it was so out of sync. The emphasis on cats... A rejected boy. A work focused on female characters.

Goodbye Eri is a work in which Fujimoto makes fun of himself, his works and the things that bring them together. Yes, there will be an explosion if the author so decides. Yes, Eri can live again, be a vampire, if the author so decides, but what's to stop him making his characters die, and then bringing them back to life a few pages later?

The characters' plots are the authors' playgrounds, whether you like it or not. You can't detach works from their authors, or read works as unrelated things because they were written by the same person. Talking about death, life, mourning, love, with a touch of fantasy is what Fujimoto does in each of them.

So if you're lost, remember that what you're reading isn't in the title but in the author.

#goodbye eri #sayonara eri #fujimoto tatsuki #eri #yuta #makima #csm #chainsaw man #fire punch #look back #one shot #analysis #my thoughts #credit to Reddit for the last image @/blackfish171

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cassandrva · 1 month

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let's talk about the fish/water/christ symbolism in the game of kings. with spoilers

fish (as ιχθυς) is an acronym for christ, and it's the first food jesus eats after being resurrected, right? it symbolizes rebirth, life, and christ himself. i personally think fish are slippery and cold-blooded too, but that's neither here nor there.

now look at how the game of kings starts: "lymond is back". we immediately know this book is about returning, it's about rebirth. in fact, the first thing we see is the man himself submerged in a body of water and coming out on the other side, after a baptism of sorts, as the character he will play for most of the book: lymond the outlaw, lymond the traitor.

the first words out of his mouth are "i am a narwhal": he identifies himself as a fish right away, and not just any fish but the unicorn fish; the unicorn of course being scotland's national animal. in perspective, he tells us everything we need to know about him: his status as a christ figure, his destiny to be reborn, his complicated relationship with his country.

the next time he's in a body of water, it's the second chapter and he's dying from a head injury in a bog. he's washed clean, this time, too: from his own identity. he's free to inhabit another character from the lymond constellation. it's also pretty funny that he's found by sym while he's going fishing ("you’ve hooked a twenty-pounder this time, my lad"), and he's nursed back to health by someone named Christian. not subtle.

lymond seems to be pretty into this whole fish and rebirth thing, does he not? he wouldn't lie to us. he wouldn't pretend to embrace life while actively seeking death, right? anyway, no relation at all, when the baby queen mary tries feeding him a fish he pretends to eat it and secretly throws it away. the fish is described as struggling and barely alive, which again i am sure is a coincidence.

then some stuff happens, and the next time lymond is offered fish he doesn't have it in him to keep pretending. he doesn't want the damn fish. newsflash, asshole (richard): he really, really wants to die. this is my favorite scene for many reasons, and one of them is the perfect juxtaposition of its literal and symbolic meanings: richard says he wants to see lymond hanged, but what he does is to drag him away from the tomb-like dovecote and towards running water, makes him eat the damn fish again and again until the miracle is complete. he's holding on to his brother with both hands and teeth before he even realizes he's doing it.

when it comes to an end the fish is off the hook, christ is off the cross and for once he's not sacrificed for the sins of others, and we close on him in his mother's arms in a beautiful literary pietà.

there's so much stuff i purposefully didn't mention and probably didn't notice, this is just a tiny example of the gorgeous figurative and thematic cohesion in this novel. i love it. thank you dorothy dunnett.

#lymond chronicles #the game of kings #the amount of symbolism in 4.3 knight adversary makes it almost look like a tarot card #something between the star and the knight/king of cups #i have a lot to say about tarot too #probably for a later post #i seems like you can't run out of things to say about the game of kings it's sooo well done #dorothy “three meanings at least per line” dunnett #if you think i'm annoying just know i've been talking like this on discord with the book club for the last two months and a half #thank you book club #anyway this is a rambling mess but you get it. you get it #ughhh lymond my brain will never be the same #lymond #the lymond chronicles

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daydream-cement · 1 year

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Larissa Weems Headcanons

Some Larissa Weems x Reader. Just a series of little things that I think about for Larissa. Most are just little things, not big enough for stories.

Send me your own personal headcanons for her or feel free to argue with the ones I've listed.

As a little girl, she always said she wanted to be a doctor. This changed quickly when she began at Nevermore and began taking outcast centered classes. That's when she knew she wanted to teach those subjects.

She has always had a desire to be a leader. It was her mentor at Nevermore who pushed her to get her principals license and apply for the position of headmistress when it opened up.

The scar above her lip is from her first year teaching. She was taking a student to the lycanthropy cages and they turned before she got them inside.

She had a critical mother and father. This led her to be hyper independent and over critical of herself. She attributes most of her success in life to this, but she is aware of how negatively it impacts herself.

She struggles to open up emotionally with most people.

She loves to go out with the other teaching staff for a drink or two at the end of the week.

Most of her life revolves around work, so most of her relationships are acquaintanceships or distant friendships.

While she spends a lot of time working, most of it is her going above and beyond. She plans and works more than she needs to in the first place.

She doesn't find herself unattractive, but she certainly doesn't think she is as attractive as you might tell her she is.

She sometimes snores but she will vehemently deny that she does

She takes forever to get ready in the morning, but she doesn't see it as a burden. She loves every second of it.

She wouldn't notice if someone had a crush on her, nor would she recognize most types of flirting. Typically, she just sees people as being friendly.

She gets flustered easily when you first start dating.

She tries not to tell people about her abilities. She worries people won't trust her or will ask her to shapeshift if they find out.

While she does have many bitter emotions towards Morticia, she misses her quite often. They were a wonderful duo that complimented each other well.

Larissa is not a fan of PDA, but won't hesitate to tell people you are both together. She loves to talk about you as she is very proud to be with you.

She loves TEA (sometimes coffee), but simply getting her to drink water is a challenge. Often she will say, "There is water in my tea/coffee. I don't need to drink water."

Because you are with her, you both attend many official dinners or conferences together. Due to this, you have developed a bit of a secret language with one another. Certain looks, glances, or pinches on the arm are different methods of silent communication.

She is a wonderful person, but she does enjoy people watching and occasionally poking fun at others. Her snide comments are only for you to hear though.

She understands technology to a certain extent. Loves games like Candy Crush or Solitaire, but will sit and listen to you explain social media to her. She refuses to download the apps no matter how many times you ask.

She is a frequent patron of the arts. Loves having art around her home, enjoys theater, and never is without a new novel in her purse.

She loves ABBA, Madonna, and Fleetwood Mac. Her favorite ABBA album is Voulez-Vouz

She has a tradition to watch every mamma mia movie at least once a year. Regardless if you like it, you will have to watch it with her. There will be singing along, the occasional quoting of the movie, but never interruptions that involve criticism of this 'timeless masterpiece' - Larissa's words

She is argumentative as hell. You have never been right and never will be right.

She is stubborn and competitive. She wants to be the winner of everything (even if it's not a competition).

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #wednesday netflix #gwendoline christie #principal weems #principal larissa weems #principal weems headcanon

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abyss-idiot · 10 days

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Report in The Star and its info on the Storm

This is a second post about this info on the Storm from the 1.4 update. A link to the first post will be at the bottom of this one. Spoilers under the keep reading button. I know this late as hell, I kinda forgot about this and only now got back to it. Hopefully post more soon.

A quick timeline of the report in this mini chapter, it is written by Greta Hoffman and mainly is set in 1985-1987. She talks a bit about 37's mother and Sophia's father in it but it does give a tiny bit more info about the storm. The text in game will be bolded and in quotes.

"That was 1985, a gloomy, miserable night compared to that peaceful morning in 1996, when we were only bothered by confusion.

We didn’t expect time to be reversed again, nor did we understand the consequence.

Even now, I still remember Paulina’s desperate cry. One of her hands was already inside the safe area when she fell at the entrance to the headquarters, and that was the only part of her left to us the next second.

The only legacies we found were an engagement ring on that hand and her favorite blue polka dot scarf, which we used to wrap her remains in the end."

While we did already have the dates this does give us another piece of information, if someone/something is only partially in the field only the bit that is in the safe area is going to be safe.

"In 1986, I was assigned to the office in Egypt. All my friends came to the doc to see me off …"

This leads us into the main portion of the report, the next few bits are about Greta's time on the ship to the new place where she meets 37's mother and Sophia's father. As of now I'll be skipping those and going to where there is more info on the storm.

"After that, I spent more than half a year in the Egypt office. Things were even worse than I expected.

Some have gone missing after the “Storm”: the people who were supposed to be in the Egypt office, according to the member list stored in the headquarters in 1985, were not there when I arrived."

As of now, I can't make much of the missing people that are supposed to be in the office. In the end its most likely not completely storm related. The bit of text also advances the year a bit.

"Before the disagreement was settled, the “Storm” in 1987 was predicted. We were ordered to return to the headquarters 24 hours before its arrival.

But the prediction was not accomplished by Laplace. A captive from Manus Vindictae named the precise date of that “Storm.”

Our enemy, those lunatic xenophobes valuing only pure blood, made it further than we did.

Yes, we built observation stations, we made countless deductions, we developed multiple simulation models …

We made efforts, we sacrificed life, we did whatever we could …

Yet, the result that we didn’t find any other regions immune to the “Storm” except the headquarters and another one in North America.

In the end, 95% of the branch members were reversed, 87.9% of the equipment was destroyed, and 100% of our predictions failed."

This gives us the exact year that this storm takes place, this gap of time was 1985 to 1987. This also sets the president that while the Foundation is better off in human tech and science the Manus are really ahead in understanding the storm than them. One other thing this gives us is a tiny bit more info on where is safe from the storm. The foundation headquarters, a branch in North America, Aperion, wherever the Manus set up, and the suitcase are outright stated places to be immune to the storm.

"On the same day, the first and only Timekeeper who just took office, the twelve-year-old child, returned alone from the “Storm.”

She told us the time in the outside world at that point.

And that is how I knew she was right.

“It is right in front of you.”

But, if there is a god, why are you playing such a prank on us, after we had suffered from the collapse of all existing orders and the failures of all the great laws?

If this is what she called the glimpse of the supreme existence, the moment of afflatus, do you have to present it in such a cruel way?

The last two digits in the number of the year after that “Storm” were exactly the name … and her number.

77."

The ending bit of the report gives us a key piece of information, this is the year that Vertin became timekeeper. Which also means that this is the storm depicted in the flashback portion of chapter 3. The one where the kids ran out into the storm and turned into shapes, and the same one where 37's mother and Sophia's father died to the storm. Turning into shapes.

Just like in the prologue where people turned into statues, other living things turning into comic book like drawings, and the world melting into a colorful comic book like ink, and in chapter 2 where people started to eat gold thinking it was food while they saw normal food as trash. It seems like people turning into geometry may have to do with something of that time period. As in the 1960s was the age of pop, and 1929 was the start of the great depression (even if the manus started it early) both storms seems to have something to do with the year that it takes place. Forget Me Not also mentions people's veins turned into cables in one of the 1990s storms, now I cant exactly say if this is the 1999 storm or the 1996 storm (I'm placing my bets on 1999.

#reverse 1999 #r1999 #reverse: 1999 #reverse 1999 lore #r1999 the prisoner in the cave #r1999 The Star #finally got this done #time to go back to the hyperfixation on the lore here

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blowflyfag · 4 months

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WORLD WRESTLING ENTERTAINMENT/FEDERATION MAGAZINE: OCTOBER 1996

MOMMY? Is the Mystery of Mankind Beginning to Unravel?

A Special Report By the Informer

IS GOLDUST MANKIND’S MOMMY?

You read that right! I’m on the verge of breaking the hottest scoop of the century… I think!!! Even though my reputation may be on the line, this is just to JUICY to pass up!!!

OK, are you ready? My eyes and ears have told me, the Informer, that not only is Mankind living in the basement of Goldust’s Hollywood estate, BUT the “bizarre one” actually has the “dementated soul” under his complete control! How you asked? Perhaps by having him convinced that he is… his long lost… MOMMY!!! NORMAN BATES, MOE OVER!!! This situation makes the relationship between you and your deceased mother look like Mrs. Cleaver and the Beav!!!

I must say that at first I, the Informer, didn’t even believe it myself. Goldust and Mankind? RuPaul and Hannibal Lector? COME ON!!! Can you imagine the conversation over a cup of expresso?

“Mankind, what do you think of my new wig?”

“Oh, I think it’s lovely. But, it would look even better… WITH THE HAIR PULLED OUT OF IT!!!”

Talk about an odd couple? They would make Feliz and Oscar look like the Olsen twins!!! But wait, let’s not be so hasty with our judgments. Let’s stop and ask ourselves this question: Beneath it all… are they “really” that different? Is it possible that there might be more similarities than they would want us to believe? Let’s look a bit more closely, shall we?

First and foremost, it is a fact that Goldust and Mankind are loners. They have no friends… nor do they want any. As a matter of fact, much of their companionship actually takes place “inside” the ring, rather than “outside”. True, Holdust does have Marlena, but first of all she is of the opposite sex… we think. And second, their relationship is of a business nature, not personal…. We think. Mankind, on the other claw, is definitely friendless. That is unless you consider George, his rat who by the way I’ve heard died recently. However, just because he’s dead doesn't necessarily mean that he’s not still Mankind’s best friend, by any stretch of the imagination! Now the psyches of Goldust and Mankind are comparable in various ways. Both are masters of the mind game… in their own “special” way, of course. Where Goldust likes to frolic within the psychologically bizarre realm of sexuality, Mankind takes a more strait-jacketed approach. He likes to come off as being just plain nuts. Both live in fantasy worlds–Goldust in the lights, camera and action of La-La Land… Mankind in his safe haven known as the boiler room. They both offer very unique and mysterious backgrounds. The truth is–we know very little about either individual, largely due to the fact that neither has told us anything! What “really” makes Goldust tick? Did something happen in his childhood that sent him to super-bizarredom? Does he have any legitimate acting experience? If not, how the heck did he get himself on the red carpet area on Oscar night? And Mankind? Now here’s a jigsaw puzzle that lacks a straight border. The music, the claw, the mask, the cellar, the… MOMMY?

MOMMY… here’s where the mystery begins. If you don’t already know by now, Goldust and Mankind wrestled as a tag team at some house shows back in the late summer, early fall. The Bizarre and the Demented. OK, nothing wrong with that. Sometimes wrestlers do team up even though they may have nothing in common. Case in point–the opponents of this troubled team were none other than the Heartbreak Kid Shawn Michaels and everybody’s favorite dead man, the Undertaker. Now here’s the wacky part–weeks prior to the match, Goldust and Mankind were cutting a couple of interviews talking about the upcoming matches. Keep in mind these interviews only ran in the markets where the matches were taking place. In other words… only a few people saw them. Anyway, through the entire cuts, Mankind was referring to Goldust as… MOMMY. You got that? MOMMY! But wait, it gets even sicker! The three of us–me and my own two eyes–witnessed Mankind actually BURYING HIS HEAD IN GOLDUST’s BOSOM in search of some peace, love, and understanding!!!

Now you tell me, kitty-cats, what the H-E… double toothpicks is going on here?!!! Has Goldust outpsyched the psycho into believing that he’s his… MOMMY?! OR is this just another chapter in their well-scripted psychology handbook? What do you think? Do you think I know? WELL, I MIGHT!!!

The following day after this goose-bumping incident, my top informer informed me, the Informer, that SON has moved into MOTHER’S mansion!!! That’s right! They share the same CELLAR!!! Now this shocking detail has in no way, shape or form been confirmed yet. HOWEVER, I was told just last night by the GREAT (his opinion, not the Informer’s) VIC VENOM, the next month… in this very magazine,,, he plans on bringing you inside the mansion of Goldust in his exclusive “Lifestyles of the Rich and Filthy Rich”! So now the question is will Venom be the reporter he says he is and take us in the cellar of the Goldust estate so that we can find out the truth for ourselves? OR will snake breath slither out of the entire situation by keeping the basement door LOCKED?!

Tune in next month!!! Until next time…this has been the Informer.

THIS JUST IN!!! I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS!!! AS OF PRESS TIME, I HAVE JUST LEARNED THAT GOLDUST MAY HAVE COME CLEAN WITH MANKIND! A SOURCE INFORMED ME, THE INFORMER, THAT GOLDUST MAY HAVE RECENTLY EXPLAINED TO MANKIND THAT HE INDEED IS NOT HIS MOMMY, BUT… SABLE IS!!!

THIS STORY JUST GETS WEIRDER BY THE MINUTE!!!

STAY TUNED!!!

#goldust #mankind #gay people #wwf #world wrestling federation #magazine scan #magazine transcript #wwf magazine #also this is totally vince russo #i know his shitty fucking writing anywhere #his random caps #his multiple !!!!! i know its you mother fucker you cant hide from me #they should have had a gay person write this btw goldust is no Rupaul hes a Divine cmon be real #honestly mankind is so real for all this shit tbh id be calling goldust mommy too

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bored-storyteller · 9 months

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VERY LONG POST

It was supposed to be a little rant about Twisted Wonderland, it became a treatise (no, but almost):

So, I love the Diasomnia book. It's soooo good (also considering the type of game).

Lilia is enchanting me, Meleanor (or Malenoa) has enchanted me. She couldn't be more beautiful than this. We've seen her so little and yet in my opinion she is one of the most successful characters in Twisted Wonderland. She is the summary of what Twisted Wonderland should be, the dark side that reconciles with unconditional love. And with her being mother she introduces the concept which is the basis of Lilia and Silver (and also Malleus I presume), that is the concept of "true love". It's a blow to the heart, it's the key to development that can completely change things.

Ah, but then you know how to do things well.

And here comes my complaint: I start directly from the game first. I understand that Diasomnia is the main dorm and that Malleus (where are you Malleus?) is our front man. All right. But if they can do something like that now, then they could do at least half of this for the other characters too. Did they do it? Obviously not, or at least not for the most part. No, because if the other media have to come and explain to us the underlying reasons for the other Overblots then something is wrong. If to understand what the guys who are alongside us are doing and what they think I have to read the novel then yes, I get a little angry. Because they knows how to do things for heaven's sake.

Mind you, I'm not saying that Diasomnia can't have more screentime (also because they're giving us information on world building and who says anything), I'm simply talking about good writing and commitment to the characters that have been created. Also because there are already problems of opinion, if the writing is lascivious and incomprehensible, well, see you!

And here's the second point. I don't usually make posts like this, but this comes following a post I saw (I won't say how or where), where there was a clear devaluation of the other chapters and character issues in favor of Diasomnia. So, as much as can be forgivable addressing imaginary characters in a certain way (yes, they are all invented, they have neither merits nor demerits for being what they are, only the tragedy of being written badly in some cases), the treating some topics such as those of Riddle, or Azul or Jamil lightly or insensitively is questionable to say the least. And it can be offensive.

Just as I'm tired of hearing that Leona's problem is "jealousy". No, and even if the writing of the Savanaclaw arc (let alone the translation) doesn't help, no. He's not just jealous, just as Vil isn't just jealous. But I'm not here to do psychological analysis of characters that probably some wouldn't even understand.

You may not understand, yes, we have the right to not understand (especially, I repeat, given the weaknesses that are in the game). Fine, but it's our limit and we keep our head down and we keep quiet, or ask for things to be explained to us. There is no need to devalue, insult or mock the characters, because those characters are loved by someone, and there is a reason they are chosen. Revelation: no, if you like something you don't do it any good by devaluing the rest, but rather you throw that thing in the mud too. I'm not just talking about Twisted Wonderland, I'm also talking about your favorite author, your book or your anime character.

Guys, it's a matter of respect, you are not superior to anyone, and you are few. Come on, we are together, everyone waves their flag but high fives with those who are next to you.

This post has become very long, so I'm closing it, if anyone has something to dispute please, with all due respect.

Have a good day!

P.s. Sorry if I put this post here, I would like to put it on my personal blog but I haven't yet found the will to solve the access problems. I hope you forgive me.

#twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar #malleus draconia #vil schoenheit #jamil viper #azul ashengrotto #idia shroud #riddle rosehearts #diasomnia #heartslabyul #savanaclaw #pomefiore #ignihyde #octavinelle #scarabia #kalim al asim #I will never make a post like this again #i'm just annoyed #now I want to write for Leona but I don't know what

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rustyvanburace · 1 month

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you know I gotta suggest Navarre for the character ask! and asahi if you’re feeling up to it :^D

Thank you so much!

favorite thing about them: I love how much PIZZAZ he adds to the early game! How can I not like a character with such a flamboyant, demanding personality whose very presence is enough to make everyone react with shock, contempt, laughter, and awe? Navarre is an ass, but a necessary ass to carry the early narrative and add so much excitement to it. I cannot help but giggle to myself everytime he appears. AND THEN, all that character growth in IVA towards becoming a better, more self-aware ghostie. Ohhh I love he so muuuch~

least favorite thing about them: Definitely the unnecessary perversion in IVA. Enough said.

favorite line: The "dawdling Casualries" line will always hold a special place in my heart, but I am also really fond of the stuff he says when you speak with him during the training drills in one of the rest spots,

"O-Oh, it's you… I thought you to be a demon. Don't start me so… I've never carried a blade any heavier than a knife before. If Mother were to see me dashing about with such a weapon in hand, I think that she would faint…"

And

"I landed a critical blow when I accidentally tripped… The next quest was much simpler, since as you might expect, money is no object to me. 'Twas actually easier than the first. But the final challenge all depends on one's strength, and that's a field I'm particularly lacking in… S-Someone else may have first place, I care not whom. Merely let this debacle of a training exercise be done with!"

brOTP: Nanashi and Navarre are best BROS!

Bad edit aside, can't forget the actual bros, Navarre and Gaston lmao. I really enjoyed their sibling relationship and it opened up so much insight into their familial life and personal struggles. I'm so so happy they got to rekindle at the enddd, it was so sweet

OTP: Everyone knows that I am the sole resident of the Issachar x Navarre Crack Ship Kingdom!! Idgaf that they've never canonically met nor even know of each other's existence, the POTENTIAL between them is enough to keep me content and well fed! We support random rarepairs in this house!

I also really like Flynn x Navarre too and they're my second fave Navarre ship, for much the same reasons!

nOTP: Needless to say, my NOtps would be pairing Navarre with his brother or any of the IVA kids. Eeeugh. Enough said.

random headcanon: It's something I've been wanting to analyze in more depth, and IDK how much of this is actually canon or headcanon considering, but I very much fancy the idea of Navarre always having close connections with the Samurai seniors and keeping close tabs on the Rite and new inductions. He's very astute with the going-ons in Samurai business and likely has been anxiously watching them for quite some time.

unpopular opinion: I understand that Navarre is a very unlikeable character, and he's supposed to be! But it honestly does get really bothersome seeing how much dismissal, if not outright hate, he gets in the fandom. Navarre IS an important character within the early game! It is his very antics that adds the necessary tension and tone needed to carry the early narrative and worldbuilding. It does admittedly make it hard for me to approach other SMTIV fans because I like this bean so much.

But that is okay. I am perfectly content with those who seek out, stick by, and enjoy my bean musings. :)

song i associate with them: Tbh I'm pretty bad at that sort of question, lol. I don't really have one for him right now, so pass? (Open to suggestions though! I want more tunes to listen to.)

favorite picture of them: SO MANY panels of him from the Prayers manga FOR REAL. He's SO expressive in that and has TONS of good moments!! But I am especially fond of the mini bonus chapter that features Navarre~

Masataka Miura can agree: Navarre can have a little moment in the spotlight as a treat~

Thank you again so much for the ask! I think I've written quite at length here, lmao. I'm a bit tired now and I don't think I can fit Asahi here, but I could post hers later on!

#thank you again so muuuch!!!#shin megami tensei iv #smt4 #navarre #rusty answers

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dontlookheswatching · 2 months

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Okay here are the doodles! They all feature Ben, in ways that can be seen as either friendship or as a ship, I dont mind what you see it as although a few I did make specifically to be seen as a ship, because while they aren't a canon couple in au, my god they are so adorable and I can't help but draw them anyways-😭

There will be some lore underneath the pictures, and also I'll discuss a little more about the relationship chart and character refs im working on afterward

Okay, lore time. Im not a big pokémon fan. Nor am I big on the pokepastas, which seem, to me, to have honestly spiraled into their own mini fandom on the sides of creepypasta, which is actually pretty cool, I'd love to explore more of it, but again, im not big on pokémon, I've only played like two or three games throughout my life, and I just can't find the interest to do it. My sincere apologies if my lore for Silver upsets anyone who is super big on Pokémon or pokepastas for not being accurate, but then again, that's what headcanons are for, things that aren't canon. I've tried doing little research and the closest thing I could come close to developing lore for Silver was 'Snow on Mt Silver'. Im not sure if its the same character or something entirely different, so bare with me as I say im merging the two ideas from each into one. Now, lets get this mess over with because I have no idea what I'm doing im kinda revamping my own lore as I write this😭

If anyone noticed, on the birthday chart I have, next to Silvers name, in parentheses, is the name;

Jae-Ing.

It doesn't sound like an American name, now does it? No, thats because, im my lore, Silver had a life before death, he isn't just a glitch in the coding and what not. He was Korean. Throughout the more I explain, the more resemblance you'll see in Ben's story, thus why they get together well, because they share a somewhat same experience.

Going to a private high school in Korea wasn't easy. At all. 'Jae' didn't have it eady, either. He had to have a job ontop of all the schoolwork he was required to do to help his mother pay off the payments for attending a private high school. His father is out of the picture, having died before Jae was even born. He and his mother were extremely close, and even though they struggled at times, they never let their bond break.

Jae was 16 the year he died. He was a big fan of Pokémon, owning every game possible and knowing every small detail. He was harassed and bullied for his interests, and was always considered a nerd, barely having any friends. He was considered an outcast, and was always excluded of things other students did. He was very intelligent though, and did well in school.

Of course, that didn't matter to the other students.

Nearing the end of the year, staff had presented a field trip, one that would last three days, to hike Mt Hallasan. It was winter, however, so the mountain was covered in snow, so students were told to be extra prepared and to be cautious and stay within their assigned groups and to NOT leave the trail.

Jae wasn't going to go, but his mother had insisted on it, saying it would be a fun experience, and that he deserves a break anyways. So he went.

Not having any friends is why the whole trip backfired on Jae's side.

He was paired with kids who had commonly made fun of him, and being on an exciting field trip was no excuse. They'd constantly steal his things, such as his small console he kept with him in which he'd play his favorite games on. Or sometimes jackets or blankets he so very needed.

He was miserable and wanted to go home, but it was too late to turn back by the time the though occured to him.

On the second to last night, when their group had finally managed to reach the top, they thought it'd be funny to fall behind their supervisor, to walk with Jae, who walked behind all of them, to suddenly act like friends, forcing them all to walk slower and slower until the supervisor was far enough ahead to where he didn't notice one of the girls start pushing him as they resumed their bullying tactics. She kept pushing and pushing, trying to get him to fight, but Jae wasn't the fighting time.

She got angry, and kept pushing, until, before someone could say something, she pushed him over the edge of the trail, down a steep hill.

They ran off.

Didn't look back, didn't bother to try and help him. Instead, they ran, not wanting to be caught at the scene.

The impact left Jae scratched up and bruised. One arm was broken. He couldn't get back up to the trail, especially with a broken arm. He tried to find a way down the mountain, a way to find help. But night fell quickly and made it impossible to see. The temperatures dropped. His limbs began to freeze as he got colder and colder. He kept his bag close, scared. Scared, alone, nearing death. He kept going until he physically couldn't. Until his body gave out and left him a lying heap in the snow.

He died. Cold. Frozen, black limbs. Alone, scared, wishing he stayed home with his mother. Oh, and how the news broke her when her sons body was eventually discovered.

His soul was sucked into his console, into the very game world he loved, due to dark magics of some sort that I might explain in another post.

He lost any memory of his former life. He didn't know why he was so sad, why he was always scared, why he didn't like the cold. He didn't have the answers to his questions. He still doesn't to this day, even after exiting the console by the force of Slenderman and with the help of Ben.

He is yet to remember his past. But perhaps for now its a mercy that he doesn't.

---

ANYWAYS yeah that's my take on Lost Silver. Its kinda shitty and definitely not canon but it's whatever.

Moving on, I finally have the icons done that I'll be using for the relationship chart!

All I have to do now is digitalize them, make the chart, and boom, it'll be done. FinaLLY. so expect that MAYBE later today or tomorrow, we'll find out and see which happens first.

Now, about the character refs. I plan on doing them for Ben(which is done), Jeff(Hes next), Toby, Liu, and EJ, as they'll probably be the most frequently seen on the blog.

I would like to mention the fact my ref for Ben was a total flop. Its quite saddening especially since I spent more than a day on it, but its in the past, and can't control everyone's preferences. Hopefully the ones in the future will be more appealing, and if not, oh well, that just means I've got work to do and revamping and redoing them, because there's always room for improvement. I'd like to thank everyone real quick for the support I've already received so far, because even if the ref was a flop, im still extremely grateful for everything else!

Anyways thats the end of my super long post thank you goodbye im going to sleep this was too much writing

#creepypasta #creepypasta fandom #ben drowned #art #creepypasta art #gaymer ramble #gaymer art #bendrowned #Lost silver #Ben drowned #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta fanart

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millylotus · 1 year

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Jason Todd & His Romance Novel Dreams

Inspired by this post/thread [started by my wonderful mutual @help-i-need-a-cool-username]

I love Jason being a literature nerd, but what's a more fun facet of this is his Jane Austen Fanboyness which easily leads into Romance lover Jason.

Alot of this idea sprouts from Dead On Main [Jason x Danny Fenton/Phantom], but I also am a multi shipper so this could be put to literally anyone with Jason [b₳tce$tor$ dni, don't even].

The down side of my love for this up and coming trop it that I am not a classical literature girly, nor do I read regency novels [all I got are clips of bridgeton & queen charlotte]. But I had a mad manwha faze during middle school, and lemme tell you Jason would thrive in those world tbh.

This response by @samaraistop from the linked post along with Hidden Route by Kuroishuuha on ao3 [which is basically an otome game isekai fic where Danny is the Villainess & Jason is the shitty fiance, go check it out] inspired me to make this post.

IDEAS

Classic Isekai Into Book/Otome Post Mortem Or Sleep

Truck-kun makes a surprise visit in the US & fucking no clips Jason [no I'm not thinking about the batfam's reaction to this let me have my fun]

Or maybe the first time he dies Jason is reborn into another world, specifically a royal high school or something

Baby boy decides to take his new chance at life as the main character or villainess of his favorite manwha

Maybe the end of the story is when he wakes up in his coffin and he isn't even sure if it was ever real

Second Chance Rebirth

The Waynes are some highranking nobles, maybe even royalty in this fantasy world

And Jason is killed somehow, his og death of being lured away by his bio-mother to be killed for money is already a pretty acceptable death in many manwha

Then of course he's reborn, maybe the day before or the day he meets Bruce or the day he's adopted

Anyway he gets a second chance at living

I don't usually like Cannon x OC but tbh this idea would work well with OCs

General Tropes I Think Jason Would Like

Harem trope: doesn't matter if it's all girls or all boys [though Bi!Jason is my headcanon so a mixed group would work] I just want Jason to be trying not to break any hearts but also being easily overwhelmed by so much love

Arranged Marriage: Enemies-lovers or maybe childhood friends-lovers, just give this boy someone he might not want or someone he is already head over heals for

Villainess's Revenge Rebirth: LET JASON KILL & BE PETTY, he gets Joker out of the way so quick, then he becomes a mob boss and gains a group of close advisors who are also his love interests b/c that happens alot and I like it

just, AAAAH 😆

#millywrites #jason todd #jason's romance novel dreams #red hood #dc #writing prompt #fanfiction #fanfiction prompts #can you tell i've been obsessing over this for the whole day

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new2fivesauce · 2 years

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Classically Your's... - Eddie Munson

Summary: Eddie is being this soft, romantic guy the week of your upcoming anniversary and you have nothing to compensate until the day of. (5.2k words of fluff)

No warnings, just Eddie being fucking in love with you.

A/N: I couldn't get out of my head that Eddie gives off golden retriever boyfriend and I know for a fact that he would just be like the best boyfriend ever and would be all lovey dovey. He just gives off those vibes. This is probably just a nonsense fic too, lots of words. Also I was inspired by the Pop Goes Classical (<-link)playlist on Spotify because I'm just a dork who really likes classical shit. Thanks and enjoy :)

When Eddie Munson and you initially got together your junior year and his first senior year, it was the talk of the school for about a week. You two weren’t necessarily the most popular people for either one of you to make the front page of the school paper but you had. You weren’t on the cheer team, you didn’t play sports, you weren’t even in the marching band. You had opted for the softer option and was the top violinist in the orchestra and Eddie… Well Eddie was Eddie.

This was now his second senior year making him a year older than you. He was also not in sports or extracurriculars, but he was a nerd underneath the long hair, dark clothes, and metal rings. He was known as a troublemaker and the school drug dealer, but he wasn’t just that person to you. He was an avid reader, not that he let anyone know that fact. He was greatly interested in mythology and had a poster in his room that connected the aspects of his favorite fantasy game, Dungeons and Dragons, to mythological and folklore. He was also a very good musician, something that the both of you could relate to very well and talk about for hours. He was incredibly musically inclined and just by hearing a song once or twice, he could pick up the rhythm and notes and play it almost exactly note for note on his guitar.

Now Eddie’s music was not particularly kind to the ears of Hawkins’ people. The whole town was going through a panic, blaming metal music and fantasy games for the bad things happening not just in this weird, small town but the whole world too. Fortunately for you, you nor your parents fell for that crap. Sometimes you felt as if your parents were from some different planet.

The first time you mentioned the long haired boy and your sudden love interest in him to your mother, her eyes lit up like lights on a Christmas tree. “OH! You must bring him to dinner some day.” She had insisted. When you brought it up to Eddie, he was surprised. Typically parents and especially parents of girls he was seeing did not approve of him, but after some careful consideration, he went to dinner one night and he was accepted so fast, Eddie believed he was being pranked. He was low-key expecting someone to come out from a bush and yell GOTCHA!! in his face and then premiere his reaction on the local news channel.

Your mother, Donna, adored him. Your mother, quite the talker she was, could talk to him forever and Eddie never minded. Sometimes, you believed, he needed this maternal interaction since his mom was not in the picture. Your mom didn’t care about his appearance; she did, however, care about his well being. Seeing as Eddie only lived with his uncle in the not best part of town and was often left alone to fend for himself, your mom always made sure he was well fed, often sending you to school with care packages full of home baked sweets and home cooked easy microwave dinners when his schedule was full from DnD games, band practice, and whatever shenanigans he put himself through the week. Eddie, who had always been scrawny even as a kid, had finally started to fill out and gained a decent amount of weight from your mom’s cooking. He wasn’t anywhere close to being pudgy, but often commented jokingly that Donna would be the death of him if she didn't stop feeding him.

Your dad, James, although a bit hesitant and not as accepting at first as his wife, around the second time Eddie came over for dinner, he had been fully embraced by the patriarch of your family. Your father could tell that Eddie was smart and very well versed in books, music, movies, and world news. Eddie had even beat your dad at Monopoly one family night. Your dad never lost. Your dad was so proud to finally have lost a game and suddenly they had this very close relationship. Eddie had even started teaching your dad about Dungeons and Dragons and they would talk battle strategies until dinner was ready.

You didn’t think your life could be any better than it currently was… until you realized that your one year anniversary with Eddie was a week away. You only remembered when one day as you stepped up to your locker at school and opened it, a bouquet of orange lilies (your favorite) in a small vase was placed on top of your books. You plucked the small note stuffed between the petals and read it.

Your laugh is like music to my ears - EM

You pressed the small, white card to your chest, your entire body filling with giddiness and pure love for this boy. You recalled the time he had said that to you, for even though you’d known Eddie for a long time having grown up in the same small town, you had never talked to him until your sophomore year of high school.

He had been running in the hall, apparently making a getaway from some jocks that he had pulled a prank on, when he slipped and knocked you and your books over. He apologized profusely as he helped you pick up your belongings. One of the books you had was Shakespeare. He had made a joke that made you laugh so hard, you snorted. You hid your mouth behind your hand in embarrassment, but he had looked at you in awe. “Your laugh… is like music to my ears. Don’t be embarrassed of it.”

—---------

The next day, you met Eddie in the woods next to the school. He was sitting on the top of the picnic table where he often did his little drug deals with the student body of Hawkins High. He heard your footsteps crunch the leaves and a smile as bright as the sun appeared on his face when he saw you walking up to him. You couldn’t help but smile back even though you had had a gnawing feeling in your gut since the day before after receiving the flowers. When Eddie handed you a flat sturdy square, horribly wrapped with the biggest bow he could manage to put on it, the feeling got even worse.

“For me?” You asked through feigned surprise. He nodded, scooting to the edge of the table as you began to unwrap the gift. It was Michael Jackson’s Thriller on vinyl. Your eyes widened in glee as your eyes scanned the front of the vinyl cover and then flipped it over to read the song tracks. Over the song track PTY (Pretty Young Thing), there was a taped tiny blue paper that read You are my…

Read together it said You are my PTY. You laughed and squeezed the vinyl in your arms gently.

“Eddie!!” You squealed as you put the record on the table first then wrapped your arms around his neck. “Oh my God! Where did you find this? I can’t even imagine you walking into a store asking for Michael Jackson!”

You pulled back to look at his face, his hands were at your waist. He shrugged shyly. “I just want to make you happy.” He mumbled. You shook your head, mumbling I love you as you inched forward to kiss him.

You couldn’t believe it. This man must have gone far to get you the record you had wanted so bad. Eddie was a metalhead through and through and he despised your love for mainstream music. He tolerated it like you tolerated his music, although he had admitted that MJ was a very good entertainer. The reason you wanted the vinyl was because your parents had bought you the tape three times already and every time you wore it out. Vinyl would last longer, but Hawkins was such a tiny town and the music stores still had music from the 60s. Anything current had to be purchased in the city.

“Eddie…” you started, peeping at your boyfriend through your eyelashes. “You know you don’t have to do all this.” you said quietly. He placed a hooked finger under your chin, the thick, silver ring on his digit felt cold on your skin and it sent a slight shiver down your spine.

“I want to do this.” he told you sternly. “You are my first real girlfriend and I want to do everything right. You see those couples walking down the hall everyday. They look happy but they’re not. Then they break up and the whole school takes sides. I don’t want that. I don’t ever want you to hate me if something were to happen to us.”

His eyes closed for a moment. His eyebrows were knitted together; there was something troubling him, but when he opened his eyes again and looked at you, whatever was wracking inside his brain seemed to dissipate.

—---

Day Three’s gift was all black geometric sunglasses similar to the ones that Madonna wore in her Into the Groove music video. The first time you had allowed Eddie into your room, he had pointed out the Madonna poster that you had hanging on your wall. He liked her music. “It’s catchy.” It was one of the very few artists’ tapes that he had in his van collection… just for you to listen to whenever he picked you up.

—----

Day Four’s gift was a Pat Benatar t-shirt. It was black, faded, and had the female artist in a power pose. You slipped the tee over your powder blue top immediately and admired it from your view. “This is so sweet.” you commented, grinning up at Eddie. He brushed his hair back with one of his ringed hands coyly.

“I knew you’d love it.” he said. And indeed you did. Love is a Battlefield was your anthem. It was also the song that you and Eddie first danced to.

You had been invited to one of Steve Harrington’s big parties. All your friends were going with their boyfriends/girlfriends and you wanted to go so bad. However, you were reluctant to tell Eddie about it. He never intentionally got invited to these types of events. He usually just crashed them or would pop up outside and sell weed. He was the one that brought it up and you were surprised when he did.

“I actually got invited this time.” he mentioned, his eyes flickering over to the jock table. “I guess you give me some type of good rep.” he shrugged.

You could tell Eddie was uncomfortable the second you arrived. He picked a beer from one of the coolers placed around the house and retreated to a dark corner to people-watch. He let you have a good time with your friends and when Love is a Battlefield began playing loudly through the speakers, Eddie saw the way your face lit up and immediately turned to him. You beckoned him over to the dance floor with a wave of your hand and he shook his head no, a smirk teasing on his face.

You pouted, no doubt, before shuffling through the crowd to get to him before the song ended. You grabbed his hands and pulled with all your might as Eddie dug the heels of his boots further into the linoleum floor of Steve’s living room.

“You know I don’t dance.” he groaned as you pulled harder, his body barely moving forward a centimeter.

“Just this once! Please!?” You looked at him with the saddest puppy eyes you could manage. He ran a hand down his face, groaning in discontent and begrudgingly let you pull him to the dance floor.

You could feel everyone’s eyes suddenly fall onto the two of you. Eddie stood still as you tried to encourage him by placing his hands on your waist. The song was half over and even if he just shimmied his body just once, you would die happy. But he did you one even better. As the song got to the chorus, his hands dropped from your waist whilst taking a deep breath.

“Please don’t laugh” he remarked as he burst into the choreography move set from the music video. Your hands flew to your mouth in absolute astoundment but recovered quickly to join him. The bystanders around you realized what the two of you were doing and joined in as well until the song ended.

When the song finished and transitioned into a slow one, you stayed on the floor, arms wrapped around Eddie’s torso and his around yours.

“What the hell was that?” you asked, trying not to laugh. He bent his head forward, placing his forehead on yours, ignoring the giggles that were slipping from your tight lips. He couldn’t help but cheese back at you.

“You do know that you’ve shown me that video countless times. I’m sure your mom could do those moves in her sleep.”

“But you know the moves?” you questioned, an eyebrow arching.

With a roll of eyes, he said “I might have practiced in the shower once or twice.”

—---

On Day 5, Eddie was supposed to take you home after band practice. He took a detour to his trailer first though. He made you wait inside the van while he dashed inside. He came out a few minutes later, his guitar case in one hand and a small box in the other. He handed you the box when he got back into his seat.

“Uhh Eddie… what is this?” you stared at the box. It wasn’t small enough for a ring, but jewelry was a big step up from the other gifts Eddie had given you.

His foot was nervously tapping the floor as he watched you take off the lid. Inside was a small bracelet. When you lifted it out of the box, you realized that it was made from a guitar string. A little skull charm hung off of it.

You lifted it up to your eye level, studying the charm and the grooves on the string.

“That’s the guitar string that broke at the first show you ever went to see me play at.”

You briefly remembered the way Eddie loudly cursed on the microphone when he plucked the string too hard after he saw you walk into the bar. He had invited you to watch earlier that day, but since you hadn’t given him a definitive answer, he didn’t think you were going to come.

He gently plucked the bracelet from your hand so that he could help put it on your left wrist. Your lips trembled, eyes filling up with tears.

“You’re such a fucking romantic.” you whispered, your right hand softly running over the bracelet.

“Eh, I try.” he said. He eyed you curiously, making sure that you were okay before he put the van in drive and began heading in the direction of your house.

The pit in your stomach now felt like it was going to eat you from the inside. You were still stuck on what to get Eddie. You had scribbled ideas in your journal, even asked some of your friends, but nothing seemed good enough. You had the terrible notion that maybe Eddie knew you better than you knew him. Gosh, you were a freaking terrible girlfriend.

It was a comfortable silence on the way to your house. Eddie had just gotten the new Metallica album on tape so that was playing quietly in the background. He had bought a tape for you too. Even though he knew you were not too fond of metal, you did enjoy the guitar riffs.

“You okay, Y/N?” Eddied asked as he turned into your neighborhood. You nodded. “Am I doing too much?”

You didn’t want to tell him yes. You knew if you did it would feel like you were rejecting him. “I like this side of you.” You replied. “I like that you’ve taken what I like into consideration even if it’s not exactly you.”

He nodded. “Okay… I don’t have a gift for you tomorrow.” he said as he pulled into your driveway. “I kinda ran out of ideas, but I have one more. I’ll give it to you on the day of.”

As you grabbed your belongings, Eddie asked you if you had had a chance to listen to the new Metallica tape. You shook your head no.

“I know it’s hard for you to listen to. You being a classical enthusiast or whatever, but listen to the title track. Puppets is…” he paused to think of a word to describe it. “Indescribable.”

You laughed at his lack of choice of words, but promised him that you would listen to it.

When you entered your house, your mom was in the kitchen. She greeted you by placing a pb&j sandwich at the kitchen bar. You climbed up to a stool and began peeling off the crusts. Your mom looked out to the living room as in expecting someone to strut in behind you.

“Eddie had band practice today.” you said. Your mom pursed her lips, turning to look at the magnetic calendar on the fridge. She shook her head.

“No, today is DnD.” she said, pointing at today’s date. In Eddie’s handwriting it read EM - DnD at 5:30. Your mom wasn’t a creeper. She didn’t try to live vicariously through you or Eddie, but she liked to know when Eddie was coming to dinner so she could make his favorites. Eddie had gotten so used to your comfortable home life, that he just did things on a whim as if he truly lived there, … including notifying your mom of his after school things.

“Yeah, but the Wheeler kid couldn’t make practice so he canceled that and he has a show coming up soon so…” you didn’t finish your sentence but your mom understood.

She nodded and then went back to clearing up the pb&j mess on the counter.

After your snack, you stayed in the kitchen, talking to your mom and showing off the gifts you’d received. You mentioned that you were stuck on not knowing what to give in return.

“He’s going above and beyond for me, Mom!” You nearly cried, your tears stinging your eyes as you tried to hold them back. “I feel so bad because I don’t know what to do. You know, he’s even going to the recital next week? He’s told me he only likes classical music because I play violin! He’s too perfect.” you signed, dropping your head onto the counter.

The bang caused your mother to look at you with some concern. She tried to give you some advice, but your parents were together for metaphorically centuries but this was a new relationship. A one year anniversary was either a make it or break it situation in the world of high school.

You thanked your mom for trying to help before trudging to your bedroom. You tossed your backpack on the bed, causing some of your items to fall out. You rolled your eyes, annoyed at yourself. You picked up the stuff off the floor, leaving the Metallica tape Eddie had given you last week for last. You peeled off the plastic wrapping off of it and placed it in your cassette player. You put the volume on the lowest setting.

You were studying your music for your recital for next week, practicing some of the measures when the introduction of Master of Puppets interrupted your thoughts. You turned up the volume of the radio slightly and you were quickly engrossed by the music.

Your foot tapped gently on your carpeted floor, your head bobbed to the beat, and your left hand was fingering the strings of your violin trying to figure out the notes.

Suddenly an idea popped in your head. “Holy shit.” You whispered as you quickly got up and went to grab the phone from the kitchen.

—--

You were late. You shoved your violin into its case and snapped it shut in a haste. You threw the strap of the case over your shoulder, grabbed your backpack and threw the strap of that over your other shoulder and dashed out of your room.

You slipped into the kitchen to grab a pack of pop tarts from the pantry. Your mother was at the breakfast nook, reading the morning paper. She looked up at you but didn’t ask anything, just furrowed her brows and went back to drinking her coffee and reading.

“Bye Mom!” you called out as you made your way to the front door. You hadn’t even bothered to look up after swinging the door open; you were so occupied with trying to open your breakfast that you bumped straight into a body. He hmphed as you bounced back, almost dropping your pop tarts.

“Eddie!” you exclaimed, stumbling with regaining your balance. You shoved the straps on your shoulders back to comfortable positions as the boy in front of you scanned his eyes over you curiously.

You were in jean shorts, a Hawkins hoodie, long socks and beat up Vans sneakers. Your hair was put up high in a ponytail and your face makeup free.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, his dark eyes darting over the bags on your shoulders. You arched your head and stood on your tippy toes to look over Eddie’s shoulder. A tan car was pulling into your driveway and you could see that it was Tim, your orchestra buddy who sat next to you in class. He took a glance at what you were looking at and scoffed.

“I am.” You answered nonchalantly. You waited for him to step aside so you could make your way to your ride, but he didn’t budge.

“I could have given you a ride.” his tone was bored, but you could tell he was hurt just a tiny bit.

“I didn’t want to wake you.” you lied. He didn’t take it.

“So you wake up Tim? The guy who’s been suddenly crushing on you since we got together.”

Eddie was not usually the jealous type. He didn’t make a big show of making sure everyone knew that you were his and his only. It was just a given. But he didn’t fuck with Tim like that. You didn’t know why, nor did you really care because you didn’t see yourself dumping Eddie for that guy. Tim was just a friend.

“Ah, Eddie…” you paused to try to find the right words. “It’s a recital thing. Something came up last minute and Mr. D gave us some new music to rehearse.”

Eddie stared into y/e/c eyes, squinting a bit as if trying to read your mind. When you didn’t so much as blink back, he stepped backwards, with a bow and wave of his arm. “See you around, my lady.”

You could hear the sarcasm in his voice, but you skipped away and hopped into Tim’s car.

—---

You awoke with a start and realized that today was the day. You’d officially been together with Eddie Munson for one year. You tried to stretch but there was something heavy at your feet. You sat up and saw that there was a big box at the end of the bed. This box was carefully wrapped in pink wrapping paper and a white bow. Your eyes were wide with curiosity as you crawled to the end of the bed and pulled the box into your lap.

The inside of the box was filled with white tissue paper and cushioned in the middle of the paper was a scrapbook. The scrapbook was black, obviously, and had giant stickers of your initials and Eddie’s. The book was thick and was tightly closed by a leather string that was tied around the book.

You untied it and began flipping through it. The book had everything from your first year with Eddie. Your eyes welled up with tears as you skimmed the pages. There was the front page article of when the two of you were in the Hawkins newspaper, a scrap of a menu from the local dinner where Eddie took you on a first date, the hand drawn flier of the first Corroded Coffins show you went to, the ticket stub from the homecoming dance, the note that he tossed to you in the lunchroom that was Eddie asking you to be girlfriend, tons of polaroid pictures, and other little memorabilia.

Your heart hurt as you reviewed the book again. Your body was so full of emotions, you couldn’t help but let a few tears slip.

You got ready hastily. You had to see Eddie.

You parked outside of the Munson home. You grabbed the book and rushed to the door. Before you could knock, the door swung open to reveal a shirtless Eddie, hair ruffled and face still puffy from sleep.

“I heard your car.” he mumbled, gently rubbing the drowsiness from one of his eyes.

You held up the scrapbook to his face. “You made this?!”

He hmmmed and you took it as a yes. You attached your body to his so fast, he almost lost his balance.

“Seriously! This is the sweetest thing ever.” you gushed, flipping through the pages once more with him looking. He ushered you into his place so that you both wouldn’t be standing out in the morning sun. “I can’t believe you kept all of these tiny memories. Eddie, who knew you were such a softie?”

He led you to his room and closed the door behind you.

“Like I told you, I just want to make you happy and everything in that book is times that you’ve me happy. I love you, Y/N and I know that’s weird coming from your local metalhead with tattoos and rad hair, but it’s fuckin’ true.”

You pressed a hand to your chest whilst giving him a soft look. He took the book from you to place it on his messy dresser. He took you into his arms and leaned down to kiss you.

Before things could get steamy, you pulled away, earning you a whine from Eddie as he lost the warmth of your body.

You beckoned him to sit on his bed while you stood in front of him. He tried to make a grab for you but you stepped back. You couldn’t let him distract you. His eyes swept over your body as they usually did when you were acting abnormally. He knew there was something weird going on when you grew fidgety.

“Y/N…” he began, but you held up your hand to stop him.

“I know I've been a little odd this week. Honestly, I almost forgot that our anniversary was today… until you put those lilies in my locker, I remembered… and on the second day, you gave me another gift and then another and another. I felt like I was so imcompetant. How could I forget?”

“You had a lot of things on your mind…” Eddie tried to reason.

“No, well yeah, but that wasn’t it. I felt like you were putting in so much effort into the relationship and you know that’s not how we are. But your gifts were so carefully thought out; I can’t even imagine how long you’ve been putting all this together…”

“Well your mom helped me out some. She did the frilly things in the scrap–”

You shushed him so you could finish getting your speech out.

“...and I was just stuck. I didn’t know where to even begin… I finally listened to the Metallica tape you bought me when it dawned on me… Our love language… It’s music. From the beginning. Even though you’re metal and I’m you know, a mix of classical and pop, we still express a lot of our feelings through songs. You’ve made me countless mix tapes with songs that make you think of me. I’ve made you tapes of songs that have played in the background of places we’ve been to.”

You walked over to his boombox as you pulled a cassette case from your pullover kangaroo pocket.

“I didn’t have a gift for everyday leading up till today, but I made this for you and I hope you like it because it’s a little bit of me and it’s a little bit of you.”

You placed the cassette in the player and pushed play, making sure to turn up the volume because Eddie liked his music loud.

There was static as the tape started, followed by some general room noises, some footsteps, a clearing throat, the tapping of a baton on a music stand.

Then the sudden start of multiple violins began and you thought he would realize the tune quickly because this was one of his top bands, but the instruments must have thrown him off since it took Eddie a good minute to recognize the tune.

Master of Puppets by Metallica. (link)

His eyes widened, his eyebrows went to the ceiling as he realized that the violin was you. He darted his eyes to and from the boombox to you, his mouth in a perfect circle with a fist covering it. As the song got to the climax, his brown eyes began to gush up with impending tears. You’d never seen him cry, not even out of anger, frustration, or sadness, but you’d seen him get wrecked over music before, but not to this extent.

When the last notes of the song faded out, you pushed stop on the player. You faced Eddie. He was still sitting, his body like a statue with the look of surprise still on his face.

“This is why you were hanging with Tim yesterday?” he suddenly asked. You nodded.

“He's the second chair, I needed his help, plus we got together with some other kids to fill in on the other instruments. It took us all day to figure out the song.” You explained. “Believe it or not, you’re not the only one with a good ear.”

At last, released from his stupor, Eddie jumped off his bed and embraced you tightly.

“That was fuckin’ amazing! I can’t believe that was you! That was you taking on those riffs on your dainty, little violin!” He grabbed your left hand and saw that you had brand new calluses on your fingers. He held up his hand next to yours. “Shit, we really match now.” Noting the calluses on his fingers too from his guitar playing.

He kissed you deeply, gripping your waist tight and pulling you so close you could feel the heat rising off the bare skin of his torso. “You’re incredible. That’s going to live in my brain forever. We need to collaborate now.”

“Whatever you say. You know I’m yours.” you whispered as he reached behind you to rewind the tape and play it again before he snuggled his face into your neck, giving you a playful nibble.

“Can’t wait to see what you come up with on our next anniversary.” he mumbled, taking you back to his bed to show you how much he truly loved and appreciated you.

#eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson fluff

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faeirtopia · 4 months

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ʚɞ ; fernando loses one important game!

pairing! boyfriend!fernando x fem!reader.

warnings! several mentions of sexual activities.

this game was one of the most important games of the entire season! of course all games are important indeed but this one was the game to determine if they’d make it to the playoffs or not.

and of course the game was not going well at all. fernando hadn’t made a homerun nor a play which was only frustrating him even more. your seat was perfect to see into a bit of the dugout and watching him stomp back towards it while shaking his head was a very sad sight to see. especially being able to hear his voice and the yelling out of frustration.

several times you’d try getting his attention from when he was standing outside of the dugout and when he didn’t turn back to acknowledge you it hurt your feelings but you knew just how upset he was by this moment in time. knowing he’d lose.

once the game ended and you watched the other team celebrate their win, you knew you’d have to make your way to fernando has quickly as you could just knowing the hurt and upset he felt.

he didn’t make one play. one homerun. he was more than likely embarrassed by his performance and was ready to head home. there was nothing more to do there at the stadium anyway so why stay and continue watching the others celebrate.

once you found him, you wrapped your arms around his larger body and pulled him in close to you. making sure that he was able to feel your warmth and comfort through this important hug.

it took him a few extra seconds to hug you back, his adrenaline still pumping and anger from how the game turned out. he wasn’t expecting that.

he’d hug you back just as tight but not enough to hurt you and would lay his head on top of yours.

“I’m so sorry for my performance today, I am.”

he’d apologize over and over for his performance and just how embarrassed he was because he let his team down and most importantly the fans.

instead of staying and talking you’d want to get home as quickly as you could to either make his favorite meal for him or just relax and give him time to adjust to what just happened at the stadium.

but.. fernando had other plans and those plans were to release his frustration and anger with sex.

you didn’t mind until it turned into multiple rounds around the house and he still wasn’t tired so you insisted that it was time to stop and have dinner.. his favorite meal! seeing his face light up was the highlight of your day. being able to see him seem just a bit happier after what happened was great.

although it was a bit difficult to make his food with him hanging all over you; arms wrapped around your waist, lips attacking your neck with soft kisses, inhaling your scent that he grew to love so much.

you were the only one that could help him during these difficult times other than his own mother.

“thank you princess, this means so much to me.”

“you know you’re the only one who can help me.”

“couldn’t have done any of this without you.”

eating dinner and cuddling with him afterwards is like a reward, especially for you. he’s so warm and soft against your body and while you’re supposed to be helping him he also helps you. in his mind it’s all you doing the helping and work. he needs you.

you’re both quiet for several hours, the sound of your light breathing and your scent helping him finally calm down completely from what had happened earlier and when he does speak, he thanks you from the bottom of his heart.

#fernando tatis jr.#baseball #fanfic #mlb fanfic #mlb imagines #mlb american league #mlb fandom #imagines #mlb #writers on tumblr #headcanon #writeblr #writing #mlb au #mlb smut #mlb national league #mlb series #baseball fan #fandom

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kathairoscloset · 2 years

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Uuuuhh so the thought posts I've written suddenly exploded lmao, but I'm glad people like reading them. Thanks a bunch :D Here's some more, and although I've seen someone explain this point in length, I hope it'll be ok to put my own spin on it:

People say that Yami setting a criminal on fire is pretty high on the 'that's kinda fked up yoog' scale of shadow murder games, and let's be real, they aren't wrong. However, my nitpick for that view comes from the narrative of the scene: both Takahashi and Toei had him under a 'he's justified' sort of light. The criminal was already on death row, and had taken Anzu hostage and attacked her. So when he gets set ablaze we're not meant to question Yami's actions, we're just meant to think "Well he had it coming trololololol"

And ya gotta admit, it's kinda messed up! But that's the entire point of Atem's character during this era: he's a powerful spirit capable of controlling the shadows, who uses them to distribute what he thinks is justice, all while protecting his friends from a dangerous world. So even if he's extreme, it should be ok, right?

It's only during Ep. 4 of the anime that it's implied such a mindset might not such be a good thing:

It's a fan-favorite screencap, this one, and I love it too. But it's the downturned look, the eye on his head, and the gaze that expresses the visual representation of someone spitting at your face. Everything in it screams fury. Anger. Maybe even high-and-mighty disappointment. It's hard to see a hero in this shot.

This episode to me, tries to set Yami no Yuugi as a force of nature instead of a force of good. (At least, not an explicit one) He's not afraid to hurt others, just has hard if not harder if it meant getting vengeance. He won't be held back by morals, nor by mercy, and the only things he has to play off of are his own instinct and whatever values Yuugi's inner self managed to impose on him. And as Shadi implied in their second bout in the manga, it's Yuugi's rage and anger that brings him out.

The aftermath is also a huge highlight for me. Because nothing in it gave a sense of glorification for what Yami did.

If I hadn't known better, then that man seems truly dead. You have his mother crying out to him, his entire watch collection destroyed, and it was... Yami's fault. Y'know, the good one.

It's just so amazing what this anime-exclusive episode managed to do (which I'm just blown away by because it's like... actually good? And adds depth to Yami's character?? And wasn't just for padding the series' length???) and it's a shame they couldn't go much further from this. Like, I wanted more. I wanted a greyer interpretation of Yami's actions. I wanted a character who's bloodlust is only soothed by the half-formed relationships he learns from his host. And I want to be a consistent, drawn-out thing, instead of a handful of moments that highlight Yami's anger at that moment (Death-T and the rooftop duel in DK)

But I also understand that it's likely because Takahashi didn't think of the 'oh they're actually 2 people lol' storyline until later in the series. So obviously, Yami couldn't develop so far as an individual because at that point, he wasn't an individual. He truly was 'another Yuugi'. And it sucks because reading further his arc felt a little weird to me, as I couldn't really reconcile Early Manga!Yami to let's say, MW RPG!Yami. It feels like there were moments we didn't get to see or some other thing.

Regardless though I'm just happy to see this view on Yami get touched on, even just a little, in Toei's adaptation. It's probably why this episode is one of my favorites :)

#yugioh #yugioh season zero #ygo #yami yuugi #yami yugi #kinda long post #kathairo's thoughts

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kernelbastard · 3 months

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putting these Slugpup Hungry Games hcs here bc I don't feel like making a new sideblog right now

me and my friend have been obsessed with it the past few days so here's some stuff we came up with. note: the pronouns are not literal, Slugcats don't speak English (slugsign W), they're just how we refer to them (also I have separate headcanons for how Slugcat gender and social roles work but I don't know if any of the Hungry kids ever learned any of that stuff so it's not super relevant)

... also we don't know GladosCat's real Iterator name so we've just been calling her Ambition or Wire Mother interchangeably

anyway. these are for you @peculiurperennial

General

The pups are listed in order of age. Therefore, Bingus is the eldest, while Onion, despite being larger than the others, is the baby of the group.

How much a Slugcat remembers past cycles is determined by age and species, and increases as their brains develop. However, there are exceptions to this pattern, like Fleece.

They were not born of the same litter, although it is possible that they were all raised in the same tribe; either way, none of them (except Onion) remember who they were before being captured, and in the end, it doesn't change that they are siblings now.

They cannot directly speak to each other, nor do they know Slugsign, so their means of communication are very limited. Still, they definitely understand each other better than other pups would, simply because they're so familiar and have had to learn to cooperate in dangerous situations. Bingus and Fleece are the most in-tune with each other's thoughts.

Onion already had a bit of the Rotund gene in her ancestry before modification, which is why she's so much bigger; Rotund Slugcats are very close to standard Terrestrials, and are not considered a separate species by Terrestrial society. That being said, all Slugcats - excluding Purposed Organisms - have enough genetic similarity to produce healthy pups with Terrestrials, so it's not impossible for Bingus and Fleece to also have Carnivore and Aquatic ancestors, just... Unlikely, especially in Fleece's case, as Aquatics are not native to this region.

Subject A-23334, Carnivore type - Bingus

They/Them, "the Prodigy"

Second-clearest memory of past tests and cycles.

The smartest and strongest of the siblings, at least in most ways relevant to testing.

Does not enjoy violence, preferring to solve problems as puzzles rather than fights, but will do what is necessary to help their siblings get through the tests. They're not afraid to take a hit if it means the others are spared.

Considers themself a sort of leader, whether or not this is acknowledged by the others, but it's not a source of pride or self-importance; it is instead a great responsibility, a burden, that feels so heavy it nearly crushes them. They know they are Wire Mother's favorite, and they'll do everything in their power to keep her focused on them rather than the other pups, even if that means they will be left out of escape plans. This facility creates Purposed Organisms, and, under the Iterator's watchful eye, Bingus has lost every part of themself that is not part of this sense of purpose.

Subject B-6587, Aquatic type - Fleece

They/Them, "the Opportunist"

Can remember past testing cycles almost perfectly, but has gaps in their memory.

The quickest and most practical of the siblings, avoiding unnecessary risk whenever possible.

Often acts cold or distant, as if they don't care as much about the others, but really, they keep that emotional distance as a means of protecting themself. They are afraid that if they break down and Wire Mother finds out, she'll do something to "fix" their memory.

Feels deeply isolated from their siblings, except for Bingus, as they both know more than they should. Even then, though, they don't have a clear method of talking about it, and Wire Mother doesn't give them much privacy, anyway, so Fleece can never drop the act for long. Over time, this loneliness has grown into resentment, though they won't let it show to anyone but Bingus, as the misplaced "source" of this anger.

Subject C-6287, Terrestrial type - Jib

He/Him, "the Paragon"

Doesn't remember much, but has held onto enough information to know how bleak the situation is, and retains more of the emotions from past cycles than actual facts.

The kindest and bravest of the siblings, but unfortunately, naïvete has no place in the testing chamber except as a bloody example of failure.

... Isn't actually anywhere near as naïve as Wire Mother thinks he is. He knows he's not the strongest or the fastest, and he's very easy to kill. But he does have one thing the others don't: pure stubbornness. Anyone here seen Everything Everywhere All At Once? He's like Waymond. You know what I'm talking about. "When I choose to see the good side of things, I'm not being naïve. It's strategic and necessary. It's how I've learned to survive through everything." If these kids do get to escape down the line, I hope it's Jib who leads them through it.

This bit isn't as serious, but he reminds me of a shonen protagonist. That's all

Subject D-42346, Rotund type - Onion

She/Her, "the Avenger"

Has little to no memory of past cycles, but does remember her life before capture.

I don't have nearly as much to say about this one, mainly because I'm still trying to figure her out. But I do think it'd be cool if, while Jib represents the things Wire Mother can't control or beat out of him, Onion is more... Well, technically a great success, but maybe too great. She's hard to kill. Eventually, her creator is going to regret that.

kind of ran out of steam at the end there but I'll follow this up in a little while with more details (in the form of Discord screenshots)

#slug pup #slugpup hungry games #rain world #bingus sphg #fleece sphg #jib sphg #onion sphg

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blanketempress · 8 months

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One final night

Plot : I got a little carried away and wrote something for Mariella. A conversation with Cecilio right after she died. Set in 1962.

Warnings : a bit of gore here and there. Reflection on parental abuse.

Length : 2600 words give or take

Setting : Vampire the Masquerade - our Los Angeles campaign

this is backstory for backstory characters who never show up in the campaign itself

Her breath escapes as white smoke from her lips. If only it was cigarette smoke.

The mausoleum was never her favorite place. Understatement. Cecilio’s weird lab is, always has been, fucking creepy. Now though, there’s something strangely comforting about it. A familiarity, the whispers that used to usher her away now murmuring welcome home, welcome home. The air clings to her form, wrapping around her, thick, like a coat. Dragging her.. elsewhere.

It’s always been cold. Not that she can really feel it anymore. Everywhere is cold. Everything. Everyone.

Her eyes drift back to Cecilio. He’s humming to himself. Or to her? She’s lying in front of him, unmoving, she can see herself from where she’s sitting, on the edge of the table. Funny how that works. His hands are gentle on her skin, she can see it. Cleaning away the gore, mending what still can be mended. He’s not looking at her, not really. Neither the corpse, nor the ghost. There’s only the task at hand, preparations he must have done a hundred times.

It’s almost touching, really. Like a parent tending to their child’s bath. One last time. Something stirs at the thought. The gentle twirl of air seems to heat up. It’s not relief, it’s anger. Burning.

“Where’s Livia ?”

The question escapes translucent lips, along with a wisp of smoke. From the corner of her eye she can see that he’s stopped, only for a second. He heard. He takes his time, cleaning up a sponge, wetting it with hot water to try to erase the traces of the fight from her face. Hah. Nothing much he can do there. The nose is broken, skin caked in brown dried blood, teeth missing, more than she cares to remember losing.

“Your mother is busy, Mariella.”

Not the right words. She heard them before. Times and times and times again. From her, from tutors, from strangers. On the phone, on letters, scribbled notes left on the kitchen’s counter.

She’s busy, Mariella.

A meeting. An important affair. A business trip.

An empty chair at a recital. A birthday with no messages.

She learned not to expect any. Not from Livia.

She turns again and suddenly forgets the words, the cutting expression.

Not from Livia, no.

“You came for me.”

There were times. Warm embraces. Actual chats. Sure it was boring most of the time. How is school. How did the rehearsal go. When she got into the secrets of the family she realized that none of it had ever been genuine. Still. At least he tried. Even if it had just been some game to him, there had never been a word louder than the other, never an angry glare. Never a hit. Just that unnerving smile. Satisfied, patient.

The same one he is wearing now as he cleans up what was left of her.

“Well, I have come to reclaim every single one of my descendants.”

He nods to the wall, to the hundred alcoves lining it. Some are closed, some are open, some have names. One, she knows is for her. He’s even brought lilies to that one. White ones.

“Why?”

This time, he looks at her. At the ghost sitting on the operation table. The smile is still there, though hesitant. As if he’s wondering if he’ll tell her. Wondering what he’ll tell her.

“Why, because you are mine. You are all my blood. I would never let anyone else get their hands on any of you.”

Possessive. At least that makes sense. At least he doesn’t do her the offense of talking about love and care. His hand is frozen, and he looks down on it. On her face. He did a rather good job actually. Without a heartbeat the blood doesn’t gush out that much, maybe with a bit of makeup and some work the right side might look decent in the end. Unlike the left. Nothing to salvage there. Skull caved right in. At least it had been quick. Not even vampire vitae can heal half a brain. A mercy, compared to what it felt like when her lungs started to fill up with her own blood. Burning, drowning.

She looks away.

“You know-” the voice is Cecilio’s. He’s still staring at his hand. “-your grandmother was a ghoul as well. Not the one you know, no. Anzola. My first wife. You are hers, as well as mine.”

Through the apathy, through the weariness, she still takes the bait.

“What happened to her?”

“Same as you. She died.”

For a moment they both stay quiet. He’s never been one to overshare. She knew, of course. She’d been in the mausoleum more than once. She saw the names on the alcoves. Now there’s a hint of genuine curiosity. As it turns out, she doesn’t need to push him at all to get the rest of the story.

“Her master let her die at my feet. I never got to find her. He was a busy man, you see. Maybe dawn was closing in on him, I cannot say that I remember. He saw that his blood was not enough, so he took me instead, and we left her there.”

It sounds like such a distant memory, like a man describing a painting he has stared at for hours rather than a retelling of a moment filled with grief and anger. Well. He did have centuries to get over it.

He continues.

“When our oldest son died, ah- I was a ghoul still. His master wanted him for himself. So, well… I killed him.” The laugh is genuinely fond. A fondness that strangely doesn’t sound so out of place. And he waves his finger, like a grandfather who let out a family secret. “Don’t you go tell on me. His Sire is still sore about that, you know? Pitiful old man. Anyway- I took my son, and brought him here. It wasn’t much, back then. More of an alchemist’s lair than anything. And that night, I killed my master as well. The funny thing about having a servant who hates you is- no matter how much blood you feed them, if someone comes with more blood, and the promise of your head on a spike, my, my. I still remember his face when he realized how lazy he had grown, and for how long his blood had been replaced in my veins with his enemy’s.”

“And you still were embraced after that?”

“Oh my darling, of course! Granted, it was a gamble. Since I was able to kill a former master, you are very right, my Sire could have feared that I would turn against him as well… But he liked me, and he liked my work. He helped me give my son a decent funeral, and we worked together for the next couple decades. It is a shame that he was killed. Though I can swear I had no part in it, I was rather fond of him… I still have his wraith in my pocket watch!”

That last bit sounds so cheery, the way he grabs the watch to show off is so genuinely excited, Mariella cannot hold back the laugh that escapes her. Only in this fucking family… He places the watch back in his pocket, dark eyes lingering for a second on her translucent shape before turning away again. Back to work. Cosmetics, preservation products. She cannot smell but the memory is vivid enough, mundane enough that she can imagine the chemical and floral scents filling the air.

It takes hours until he’s satisfied. Candles are burning, and weird symbols are traced all around her, all over her white skin. Everything ends, eventually.

The anger is back, burning in her chest. Somehow this time she can feel the edge of the table when she grasps it. Is that really all she can hope for? The care of a half senile, controlling old man, not a single friend, not a single familiar face to say goodbye to. Only the disdain of those who survived, the continued indifference of her mother. Living or dying, it all happens the same, doesn’t it.

Cecilio clears his throat, and there’s the rattle of metal. Tools clattering as they drop back down.

“My, my… Quite powerful already, are you not? I would appreciate it, however, if you left my instruments alone for the time being. You will need some guidance until you can make something out of that energy of yours.”

One blink. The room looks the same. She doesn’t feel the same, though. When she gets up, the stone has chipped under her fingers.

“What if I don’t want to become anything? What if I just want to fade?”

The smile doesn’t wither, but he doesn’t laugh, doesn’t scold her for the outburst. “My darling, you have already made your choice. You want more. Now the real question should be… what is it? It takes a lot of work to bring back something of a person once they are dead, you know? A violent death helps, sure. But you, my dear, you did most of the job all by yourself, I have to say, I am impressed. You will be so beautiful…”

“Oh, shut up Cecilio.”

For a second there’s an old instinct, an old, deep fear ingrained in her surfacing. But it’s not Livia in front of her. It’s an old man, smiling patiently, as if he had dealt with hundreds of petulant children before.

Maybe he will be the last person she ever sees, or talks to. The idea is revulsing. And yet as soon as the first words get out of her mouth, she knows she’ll get them all out. “I’m dead.” Frustration, anger, years and years of shattered hopes, of folding in half for someone else’s plans. Trampled dreams and swallowed bile. “I’m fucking dead, because of her. She knew this mission was compromised, she knew we wouldn’t make it out. She didn’t care to give me a warning. And all she has to say is that she’s busy?” The air trembles again, turning to ice, turning to fire. “You know what? Actually I’m fucking glad she’s not there, she’d only come to let me know how disappointed she is that I failed that mission.”

“Come now, I do not think that she knew.” There’s the smile. Not a trace of worry. Oh, he’s prodding, she knows he’s trying to nudge something, trying to get a reaction out of her. Right now she doesn’t care enough to stop. Too many times tasting blood from biting her tongue, and this time might be the last.

“And that's supposed to make it better? Either she knew and she didn’t care, or she straight up didn’t bother to check anything before sending me in.” There’s a crackling sound, rain on a powerline, and the candles flicker. For all her rage, she still finds it in her to be surprised that her voice hasn’t cracked yet. Instead it booms, bouncing on the walls, reaching sleeping things in the drawers and the alcoves. One tries to rise and she shuts it down with one wave of her hand. “She’s never been there. She was waiting for me to kick it from the day I was born, but she was too proud to off me herself, too much of a coward to face the family if she gave up on me. I was hers. But now I’m not, that must be quite a relief. You want to know what’s fueling me? You want to know why I’m still here? I want her dead. I want to tear her apart and watch her bleed. I want to see her crawl and hear her plead, beg, apologize, anything.”

The last echo fades, the light slowly grows back to normal, candles now half consumed. And all is still again. Quiet.

Cecilio keeps staring, focused, mouth slightly open in a hungry smile, with an intensity that makes him look insane. Drinking her words, admiring her form.

“So what’s with all that?” she asks, eventually, gesturing at the table “You’re going to bind me, but what do you want me to do? Because here it is. You want another watchdog, I want to kill my mother. I don’t see how that’s compatible.”

A laugh, a chuckle really. “Oh my darling. You are already bound. All I did was make sure that it would be stable, and on some fertile soil.” He extends a hand to touch her cheek, and somehow she can feel it. Solid. He catches her tear with a soft brush of his thumb. “Mariella, my heart. I cannot let you achieve your goal. You are very right, I am in the business of making watchers, protectors. I cannot let you harm one of my children, you are my bond to this world, all of you. But yours is this anger. What will become of you once it is gone? I cannot let this happen.”

He turns back to the table and slowly starts snuffing out the candles. One by one. So the ritual is already done, then. Done and over.

Anger is still there, but coiled, dormant for now. Only waiting for a spark to ignite it again.

“You had a very eventful night, my dear.” The voice is soft, exactly that of a parent gently coaxing a child to bed. “Sleep for now. I will make sure that nobody comes to disturb you until you feel rested.”

He put the shroud over her broken body, like a cover, leaving her face visible only for one last kiss on her forehead, a masquerade of affection before he covers it. There’s a finality to it when he turns back.

“Now… Before you go, would it be rude of me to ask you for a little help? I would be able to figure it out with some work, but it will be day soon. May I know what your anchor is? I will take good care of it, I promise…”

She can feel apathy growing again, as if the world started dissolving around her. Or maybe she’s the one slowly fading. She shrugs and points at the other side of the room, at the low table on which her clothes are piled. “My jacket.”

“Ah! Brilliant.”

A pointed look, as if he wants to ask more. Well. She did want to tell someone. She thought she’d get to tell a friend one day. As a funny story maybe.

Beggars aren’t choosers.

“It’s the first thing I bought with my money. Without her breathing down my neck. I hid it for weeks from her. She didn’t care when she saw me wearing it though. Didn’t notice.”

Maybe it’s only fitting to end up as a ghost.

Cecilio nods, folding the jacket with a certain reverence. For a moment Mariella takes the time to really look at him, an old man, a shadow of someone who couldn’t let go of his loved ones. Vampire, ghost. Not much of a difference, is there. Maybe he really could only ever see reflections of his lost love in all of his children. But that was so much more than anyone else gave her. He was there. Fake or not, it was still a comfort. Someone to talk to, someone who cared, no matter why he did.

She holds up her hand, and he seems surprised, almost startled when she puts it to rest over his cheek. Not quite material. Not quite gone yet.

“Hey, gramps?”

“My heart?”

“Thank you.”

Welcome home, the mausoleum says, embracing her.

#how much of Cecilio's attitude is genuine and how much is manipulation is a mystery even to Cecilio #Mariella was 25 when she died btw she was only a ghoul for a few months #the giovamilly late night show #mariella vtm #cecilio vtm

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