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the-fae-folk · 1 year

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Hello. I'm writing a story and I'd like to base my magic system on that of the fae's magic? Do you know how their magic works? The rules of their magic? I've heard of things like prices and contracts, but I'd love to know more. Thank you for helping. I love your blog.

In a desperate attempt to prevent this answer from getting far out of hand, I'll try to limit myself to something more practical you can use. However it is important that you understand that many magical abilities, events, and things had their roots in various ancient cultural practices, beliefs, and cultural needs or desires. As these tales were passed down orally they were changed with each successive generation, adapted for the huge cultural changes such as the rise of Christianity or for war and famine or political exploitation. The transition from Folktales (mostly oral storytelling) to the later Fairy Tales (largely dominated by literary storytelling) is an important factor in which kinds of stories are still remembered and can be studied today.

So depending on what historical period, country or locale, and cultural group you're looking at, you could have entirely different sets of faeries who had vastly different kinds of powers and rules. And those abilities and limitations were often the remains of older cultures from whom the stories had been passed down from or who had influenced it along the way, or they were a kind of wish fulfillment of basic needs and desires for a generally non-literate agrarian people, as well as an expression of their values and beliefs.

Let's look at your question. Okay, you want to know how the magic itself works, the rules. Well first let's see if we can get a very brief idea of what magic is. While it would be the work of several books to try and define an etymology and history of magic in all the different cultures connected to Faerie Folklore over the centuries, we can pick out some ideas that were of particular influence.

There are several types of magic anthropology suggests for us. These being: Sympathetic Magic, Divination, and Contagious Magic.

Sympathetic Magic is based on the principle of "Like produces like". For instance if something is to happen to an image of someone, it shall also happen to the actual person.

Contagious Magic is based on the principle that if a thing was once connected to or in contact with something else it can still influence it even when they are apart. Believers would hide their fallen teeth, nails, hair trimmings, clothes, or feces from what they believed were malevolent supernatural forces or practitioners of magic.

Divination, which you may be more familiar with, is the procedures and ways in which knowledge of a certain event or of some future event are determined.

But these terms don't really offer us a very clear idea of what's going on with this idea of magic. Alternatively we can think about the different methods in which people would practice magic. Spoken words, writing, or symbols of power were thought to have magic in a number of different cultures. While in animistic beliefs even ordinary items could take on magical attributes as well as a spirit.

The sources of power for this magic were varied. Anything from nature, deceased humans reincarnated and willing to intercede, and sacred or secret knowledge of the world and realities it hides from common knowledge.

In medieval France and Britain there was an idea where women were magical because they could create new life and give birth to it, the act of creating something itself being the magical ability they possessed. So too were other acts of creative work such as cooking, mathematics, and various types of craftsmanship viewed as a kind of magic. It's unlikely that these women, scholars, and craftsmen were viewed as magical practitioners, but the idea of the work itself being a kind of hidden magical knowledge made it into the oral and later literary storytelling and remains there to this day.

Even in contemporary fantasy there are remnants of this idea that crafting itself is a kind of magical knowledge. Think of all the items in literature that are magical. Cloaks, wands, food, weapons. Even everyday items such as a looking glass can become a magic mirror, or a pair of shoes the enchanted seven league boots.

A great deal of Faerie magic in folklore seems to have been a mixed kind, with different types of magic for different situations or peoples. For instance the story of Rumpelstiltskin shows a heavy emphasis on the magic supposed to be inherent in finding the True Name of a thing and the apparent delight in deals and agreements, especially exploitative ones. Other stories present us with Faeries and magical beings who rely on rituals of certain words or events that must take place for a magic to be effective, items combined or crafted in a specific way with specific ingredients or words of power to make charms, and a large variety of abilities that suspiciously have a great deal in common with medicinal practices.

There is, of course, the question of Glamour. Initially a kind of illusion magic, such as in the Ballad of Tam Lin where the titular Tam Lin was "transformed" into a number of frightening shapes in order to try and get his lover, Janet, to let go. It can also be used to disguise the faerie themself, or make a cave appear to be a beautiful palace, or a pile of leaves into a grand feast.

Strangely, there are also many folktales that describe Faeries as having actual powers of transformation, being able to shift their size and form, and the limitations differed from tale to tale. Several variants deal with the contradiction of Faeries who are somehow both intangible and tangible at the same time, or only tangible in certain conditions.

Wings are common in Victorian Art of faeries, but in older stories there are many depictions of Faerie beings who can simply fly without them.

Folklore studies doesn't really make it clear what abilities the Faeries were supposed to have or how those powers worked, and this problem is only muddled further by the lack of surviving materials on these cultures, and the slow influence of changing generations and storytelling that time has upon our existing texts and materials. What you mention, however, is the prices and contracts. The idea of tricksters who will wheedle and bargain and use clever words to get what they want is as old as myth itself, and throughout the history of folklore and fairy tale there are countless trickster characters. Though the Faerie are drawn from multiple different sources they are known in more than one place as having a penchant for trickery or malicious behavior to go with their supernatural abilities and powers. Despite looking, I haven't been able to pin down any particular point in which they began to be associated with deliberately ill intended contracts, it's certainly easy to see that throughout the medieval period and onward the Fae definitely had a strong connection to the idea of bargains and deals, often being incredibly upset (not to mention exceedingly dangerous to all around them) should that contract be broken by the human party usually involved. In many stories the human's ill fortune is caused by them agreeing to things they thought they wanted, but turned out not to be happy with when they got it, or found that they weren't prepared for the true scope of the price they agreed to when they made the deal. Since the Fae do not care whether the human likes the deal as long as it is upheld as agreed, they can understandably be very annoyed when a human breaks the agreement and still thinks themself entitled to the treasures and pleasures they got from said deal.

In contemporary fantasy we might be able to guess that the connection between Faeries and their supposed interest in the true names of things, as well as their often mischievous or maleficent nature, somehow was combined with this tendency in fairy tales to make deals and bargains with mortals. It's conjecture on my part, but it would definitely explain some of the trends in the depictions of faeries in modern literature. It's not a huge stretch to imagine that over time magic in literature came to be directly involved in those deals as well, not just enforced by a deal-loving being with magic, but being enforced by the nature of the magic itself.

#fae #faerie #otherfolk #magic #folklore #faerie folklore #fairy tales

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grgindia10 · 2 years

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The psychological effects of employee appreciation at the workplace

The science of ‘appreciation’ is really simple. It has the capacity to change and strengthen the brain in remarkably positive ways. Studies have shown that positive emotions correlate with effective immune system function, which likely affects the ability to fight diseases that can lead to fewer absences and sick days for employees. In this article, we examine the importance of appreciation in the workplace with respect to their impact on employee satisfaction and productivity.

Apart from its positive effects, appreciation in the workplace also promotes psychological safety. Appreciation also influences the attitude of others, as support from superiors and colleagues leads to increased satisfaction in interpersonal relationships at the workplace. A supportive work culture, rooted in the habit of giving appreciation also contributes towards employee well-being – by providing a positive environment for employees who experience mental illness such as depression and anxiety; especially in the current pandemic times.

Can appreciation bring about behavioural change?

Here’s an interesting approach to comprehend the impact of employee appreciation. Consider this, neighbor 1- Alex and family who have a child named Ron, age 8 year old vs neighbor 2- Rahul and family who also have a child named, Rohan, the same age as Ron. They both go to the same school in the vicinity. Alex’s family is focusing on learning and growing the kid and appreciates their son for every little task he does. Be it a small win, they appreciate and celebrate the moment when Ron tries something new even if he is slower at picking up things, their approach is to motivate Ron to complete the task and always be ready to learn something new. On the other hand, Rohan is a bright child with superb creative skills and does amazingly well at school. He is always amongst the top graders, but his family is still not convinced and pushes him to strive to get 100% results. They have stopped all of his extracurricular activities for him to focus on his studies.

As you would agree, the impact of the approach in upbringing on both the children works differently. Ron who is an average kid and a slow learner but appreciated for his work turns out to grow more confident and an enthusiastic learner with a never giving up approach whereas, on the other hand, Rohan despite being a talented kid turns out to be under-confident as he is more focused towards perfection. The non-recognition resulted in him doubting himself even after achieving more.

The same psychology plays out at the workplace where an employee who is never appreciated or recognized for his/her efforts, in turn, doubts his capabilities and may resist trying something new.

So the question to ask ourselves is, how often do we appreciate our employees or colleagues for their efforts?

Appreciation may seem a small thing but often neglected and we don’t try hard enough to make it a habit. A great way to recognize your subordinate or to promote peer-to-peer recognition is to have a centralized social recognition platform like Buzzz that allows you to recognize anyone from anywhere through text, audio and even video messages. The recognition is visible to everyone across the platform in the organization where others can interact by liking and commenting on the post. This tool gives the power to make the recognition more prominent and visible for everyone to see the great efforts put by an employee and also motivate others to achieve more.

Let’s find some ways to express appreciation to those who really should hear about it, as well as some of the benefits of appreciation in the workplace. Here we unpack the psychology behind appreciation by explaining how it works and explore some tips on how to cultivate it not just for ourselves but also for others.

1. Appreciating changes the giver, not just the receiver

Appreciation is not only about the impact you have on others, but also about yourself. If you take your appreciation seriously, you will see the positive impact it can have on your mental health. Appreciation of the workplace has a huge impact on a person’s happiness and wellbeing. Even when you feel self-conscious, the positive effects of expressing appreciation to an individual can outweigh any passing sense of embarrassment. Expressing appreciation and expressing it in the form of a positive comment, such as a smile, a hug or even a handshake, is a great way to ensure that your appreciation is conveyed e sincerely and genuinely.

2. It boosts productivity

People who feel valued experience greater self-esteem and thus increase their satisfaction with their work and their ability to contribute to the company. This also has an impact on how employees see their role in their work environment, as those who have received rewards & recognition feel valued and happier in the workplace, which in turn leads to a stronger relationship between employees and the people they work with and feel better about their company. Whether you thank a stranger for holding the door or sending a thank you note, recognizing other people’s contributions can also lead to new opportunities.

3. Encourage employees to go out of their comfort zone

While appreciating if the giver does not express in a meaningful way and if the receiver does not feel like his/her sense of self-esteem grew, then such an appreciation will become yet another tick box that managers can tick and continue to stay detached from the employees’ performance. Appreciation has the power to infuse confidence that cannot be taken away, as we saw in the Ron and Rohan example above. Appreciation at the workplace not only motivates employees but also encourages them to go out of their comfort zone and they certainly will then try to achieve more.

4. It boosts team spirit

Appreciation means the world to employees, especially at times when they learn a new task and may make personal sacrifices to get the job done. And sometimes a pat on the back is simply not enough. If you use techniques that encourage the expression of appreciation in the form of gratitude, everyone will feel appreciated and positive, turning daily stress into a daily grin. Providing a culture that encourages appreciation can promote positive mental health and produce happier employees, as demonstrated by the fact that many employees and managers agreed that showing appreciation in the workplace is extremely motivating and boosts team spirit.

5. Steadily it becomes a habit or culture

You don’t have to be an expert in emotional intelligence to show gratitude and appreciation in the workplace. Before looking at the psychology of recognition of workers, try practicing on a smaller level as it helps to understand some of the proven benefits of appreciation for employees. The saying ‘preach before you teach’ fits well here- before asking your employees to express their gratitude and appreciate their colleague’s efforts, it is important for leaders to practice this by saying thank you for the job done and express how grateful they are to have them in the company. Slowly and steadily you can see it becoming a part of employees’ habit and sooner will be a part of strong work culture.

If you don’t focus on showing appreciation to your employees and only on compensation, chances are they will view your efforts as disingenuous. Simply asking staff how they want to be recognized is a great way to make formal recognition processes more meaningful and personal.

As an organization’s HR leader or team manager, the most important thing is to find reasons to be grateful and to remain open to appreciate everything, no matter how small it may seem. Even on the worst days, it is gratitude that we find in ourselves to realize that a bad day must come to an end. Offer reassuring and affirming words of appreciation and gratitude to your employees when they deserve it. Whether you write a handwritten note, email or comment, employees know that their hard work is being recognized and that it will make them happier, healthier and more productive. They will do their best to be recognized and know that you are an appreciative employer, even if it is only for a moment.

If you are an employee, you can create your own grassroots movement of gratitude by expressing your appreciation and encouraging your colleagues to do the same.

#employee appreciation #employee motivation #employee recognition #employee recognition awards #rewards #recognition

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embertarot · 2 years

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✨ Pull Of The Day (7/7/22)

It should be noted that despite being a pull of the day, these readings can be applicable whenever it is you see them.

The Wheel of Fortune ✧ Five of Swords ✧ ✧ Page of Swords (Reversed) ✧ Strength

Fate and fortune are tricky. Often, the things that break us down are the very things that give us the opportunity to rebuild, and become who we're meant to be.

The Wheel of Fortune reminds us of Destiny and karma, and of life's ups and downs. We all experience them, and the wheel can turn any which way at the drop of a hat. Our choices and decisions can and will influence the direction, but there are times as well that the wheel will do whatever it damn well pleases, especially as a calling. In this reading specifically, this card offers up a turning point in your life. The choice of whether to take it or not, to reclaim your destiny and change direction, is yours entirely.

The Five of Swords backs this message up and points to areas in which things may need to change. The number five itself vibrates with energy of change, of adaptability. It's tied to our senses. Chances are you feel something is off and know, deep down, the problem, and maybe even the steps you must take to remedy it.

It's likely these issues are of a social nature. Not only is the Five of Swords itself often about conflict with another, but the number five has ties to Mercury as well: the planet of communication.

It's possible that you're feeling isolated and stabbed in the back. It's easy to lash out and have someone, or a group of people, to conveniently blame. You may even be beating yourself up. Either way, you have the comfort of being a victim.

You may feel like you're in competition with others. The comparisons may be never ending, as you tear yourself apart and give up your personal power. This behavior may also push away those around you, if you have a habit of making them feel guilty or ashamed of their talents.

You may have a habit of picking others apart and/or starting arguments, especially to assert both dominance and a sense of superiority. Conversations and relationships become something you win, rather than something to share. Coming out on top in an argument is more important than expanding views. If this resonates, ask yourself: What use is a throne in an empty room?

You may have problems at this time with picking your battles and not lashing out. You may feel like you're standing up for yourself, and the desire to fight back could be coming from a genuine place. Yet, you walk away from every argument with a sense of pain and loss. Ask yourself if there's anything to gain from the constant fighting. Even if you feel justified, do you actually walk away feeling empowered, or just embittered and alone? Take heed especially if you feel tempted to disregard your morals in these arguments. Sometimes, the winning move is not to play. In this case, it's time to stop looking back, start looking forward, mind your business and just do you.

The reversed Page of Swords returns, again as a reminder to ground ourselves. As long as he keeps his sword and feet firmly planted, he will never fall, even as his world is turned upside down. No matter what it is you're struggling with, you have the Strength to overcome it. Whether you are in a situation where you feel unsafe, unloved, and alone, and it's time to stand on your own two feet and move on; whether it's time to break a deep-rooted pattern, admit to wrongdoing, and commit to serious change. You are capable. All it takes is the strength to say "Enough."

#tarot #tarot readings #pull of the day

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libidomechanica · 1 year

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“Take it”

While we may never not be so. One with pointed, expectant. And through they met, and many days be overpast, disabled age shall arbitrary queen of sense filling cart as a cat, or a juggler hates a car bomb … And in the

centre as thine: the comfortable green-blue wild storm’s strife to usher back his perpendicular. As she gathering of usages! And on the human foot, of lip, of eye, or once show to thee: but little next, what must be sought

to the digits of my mournful head, ye roses almost three-parts pain! Old Susan groans of ambitious magic: every onward soul were things accomplish’d:- If he utterly, it might her an effort, which you shoul’dst be contented, vaunted,

she gathers the soul were ticklish ground; beside a learned Nor Jove, and peaks so high that has twa the very part was consecrate to the roots of the bed therefores from hue-golden pomp is come, when at my should lend out

shame; I willing run, yet shining until only a gift, and thus all were re-animated. The Powers which she did keepe. Enchantment grew drunken pleasures as she has but a giant’s asleep. On seruants shame oft maisters of

freemasons; and thy swinck, that chaste breast. And that was as capable as woman bears with Lady Adeline, and listen their handsome man, that thy fair in ilka quarter: she has another can hindering the golden song apollo

singeth, whate’er the hears what you have endless life than a stanch one; but only call’d by the melancholy mirth; but on, on the wing, as Captain Parry’s voyage may come of those hearts, Love hath cast his palace, that if I fail of my

lighted way. Take it. Upon whose tie I see that ill was past and balsamum, to market by this Exchange! Let me feel their fasting freedoms of the passe all there we are store of; witness he that chamber hie, these utterly of

self-intent; contented, when thou sit to bless every where, by her loose gown from off then! I told the moon is weaving her brightness, Mercy, Majesty, and tell a different, with a Kidde, now gay, but never guess, I’ll be in the place sound

were his travellers on form and fair; and it should be told, how much which we can gain is swerving. ’ Street to take bread: the morning that beauty may cloy when wrong’d a heart up solemnly, as once Electric current passes that bright, can love

is blind, for I no more, the crimson stomacher—a cuff neglectful, and the sky, seres Spring ended, I shall she condition thus. No life, no light footsteps in the same, give me one part; sweete, for one so weak to ventures. All, the snow

cover me, and could not vary, is constantly, was something will be. The which, thou art ripe age, for restrain. The worth’s unknown burial. Ride those bodies meet in Lethe to be won, beauteous self relented to your people purely kissed

the heart of losing isn’t hard to master. That she condition. And the Doctors’ Commons: but shepheards sayd Algrind often sayne. Nor cheek or the remnant worth gives life would make good company. Thee, my Philly! And yet, because I wonder

do inuite to haue for no cause. If I had thought be taken up the steaming tea and sky. Of the south summer, then hey, for a lass wi’ a tocher, then calm speech should stay. The current of Plumeria, and then apart, which sigh by might

need hardly can summo foelicitas. A woundedness their riot even glean the head whenas the clients’ cost, of hand, and else can come near. Tipple in their souls to pick up shoes, you saw thee, when wilt thou but this tries anyway,

so brave, unable to women, lovely knight are bright, she’s got into pieces small amount: though not no more shall take; she shall forbid! Of the tide, ladie, sae comely to be extraordinary. And gold, then hey, for a young wife than

tempt further. Sets to soft music has soul that hobbles up the whole self once to thee. Shut up thine influence of this kind why will unclose me, i and my life its praise or blazing forth, wanting Inuentions are a mother, and in a

voice, youth should stifled with lily leave me? Him whom she employing some hoped thing’s face with thine argentine, all bluely dash’d through the azure clear March with fresh ornament. Yet deign, white goodnights. Romances reduced to breed a name and spirals,

and from the great god Pan, laughed the wind to blow the least grim look, or cast a frown aside, and watch all night i’ the matrons frown’d; some hoped thing to its heart break in pious consort did: if he could be told me close, blowing water-fall.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #149 texts #ballad

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existentialmagazine · 2 years

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Review: Sub Violet proudly boast a soundscape of dynamic complexity in their new high-energy, indie-rock single ‘After You’

Just releasing their newest single ‘After You’, UK based indie-rock band Sub Violet have had quite the challenge in topping that of their incredibly well-received previous single ‘Phases’ - yet they’ve only gone and smashed it out the park. Having recently supported the likes of rising stars Shelter Boy and Picture The Scene, as well as finding themselves on Blackwaters UK tour later this year, the band are truly starting to make a name for themselves around the music community, and for good reason. Championing attitude and ear catching melodies, the band are always offering up a new slice of catchiness within every new song and ‘After You’ is no exception.

‘After You’ jumps straight into things with a thundering electric guitar riff, illusive bass twangs and steadily rising drum beats all building towards the moment the vocalist jumps into the mix with an air of commandeering influence - and that opening verse doesn’t fail to please. Exploding for one hell of a chorus, ‘After You’ pumps up both the energy and the volume for a segment that sees a colourful, melodic electric guitar riff centre stage amidst further clashing drums and their vocalist leaping into the higher ranges of his abilities, leaving every line to seep both power and a growing resentment. Calming moderately back down for the verses, Sub Violet don’t fail to provide handfuls of angst and attitude amidst rhythmic guitar, vocal melodies and drums that never for a moment drop below half their energy, all cohesively working together for a song that feels like more of an experience than just sounds to be listened to. Jumping between such a dynamic range of highs and low tones and slowed moments before picking the pace back up to its maximum all over again, ‘After You’ unapologetically urges you to get your blood-pumping and your adrenaline racing, as it offers you three minutes of high-energy that can’t be refused. Sure to be a crowd-pleaser at live shows, or simply for dancing around your apartment with not a single care in the world, ‘After You’ continues to shove its exponentially heightening soundscape in your face to be enjoyed at full potential.

Behind the thrilling pacing and addictive beats, ‘After You’ holds more of a weighty meaning than may meet the eye. Penned from both personal experiences and fictional characters created, ‘After You’ tells the story of uncertainty rearing its head within a relationship whilst the protagonist of our tale still clings onto hope for a bright future. Explored through lyricism that reeks of both uncertainty and yearning, lines like ‘I’ve waited here too long, it’s all gone wrong… small things you made me do to keep me running after you’ really lead the listener through paths of doubt and betrayal, trying to piece together this crumbling relationship and find yourself either rooting for or against their future together. As growing paranoia seeps between the cracks, Sub Violet continue the tale with poignance, ‘I take it all back, before things start to crack and everyone around sees although recently it’s been sweet’, leaving you to try to uncover for yourself whether this is a toxic relationship buried under the good days reflected upon. Such a narrative is one that Sub Violet have managed to portray so intricately through both their profound lyricism and thrilling soundscape, exploring tones and depth in a way that’s been sure to build up tension and make the story all the more hitting when truly listened to in depth.

If ‘After You’ sounds like the indie-rock release that’s been calling out to you, you can give it a listen here and loose yourself within the high-energy or find some solace in the hard-hitting narrative.

Written by: Tatiana Whybrow

Photo Credits: Unknown

#subviolet #music #singlereview

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itsmoonpeaches · 3 years

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Raya and the Last Dragon: The Importance of Water in Southeast Asia

Disclaimer: The following is from the perspective of a Filipino SEA. Please feel free to add or edit from other perspectives. There are *spoilers* below.

Though Raya and the Last Dragon has its flaws, what it did well, it did really well. Out of every cultural reference that I spotted in this film, the one that stood out the most was the portrayal of water.

In the end credits song, Lead the Way, originally sung in English by Jhené Aiko, there is one lyric that stands out as a nod to this culture of water:

There's an energy in the water There is magic deep in our heart There's a legacy that we honor When we bring the light to the dark Whatever brings us together Can nevеr tear us apart We becomе stronger than ever

There are beautiful views of bodies of water in the movie, and scenes that deliberately look over them. But, it’s much more than that.

The geography of SEA is already so rooted with water. The lands that make up the region are either located on a peninsula and cut through with rivers, or made up of hundreds of islands in the middle of the ocean.

So, let’s talk about water in SEA and in this movie. Below is an in-depth analysis of the cultural significance of water whether it is rain, rivers, oceans, or mythological aspects alluded to in the film.

Nagas and other myths

Let’s start with mythology because this is the basis of much of Raya and the Last Dragon. I want to first point out that this is not an opinion post, so I will not be touching much on my opinions on how the dragons looked like. (TLDR: Disney could’ve done better.)

So many myths in SEA are connected to water besides the dragons, but let’s focus on those.

I did mention briefly about naga and water dragons in my long analysis post on the final international trailer. However, I will go in a little deeper here.

Naga The dragons in this movie are based on the SEA version of a dragon. More specifically a sea serpent or a water serpent. They don’t breathe fire. In fact, they have nothing to do with fire. Their powers all influence water (and sometimes create earthquakes). Their powers include typical influence over water, creating rain, causing winds, and shape-shifting. They are incredibly powerful and revered. Sometimes they are even seen as deities like the Bakunawa in the Philippines. In RATLD, these nagas have a long horn at the front most prominent in Thai and Laotian versions of nagas. They are scaly and might have a kind of crown on their head, or gold jewelry around them. In most portions of SEA, nagas don’t have legs. It looks like the dragons here were partially inspired by an East Asian dragon or maybe the Vietnamese dragon. Other depictions can have them with multiple heads. Nagas also appear in South Asian culture. Here’s a quote from my initial long analysis post to add to this:

Naga are so important within SEA cultures that we have multiple places (and a river) named after them all over SEA and particularly a few times in the Philippines.

What I can tell you is mostly the Philippine version, but a naga is a serpentine creature that lives deep in the ocean, and are often associated with water. Sometimes they are depicted as having the upper half of a woman.

...

In the southern islands of the Philippines, depictions of naga are seen carved throughout buildings, particularly on roofs. A typical dance movement where you keep your hands curved and your fingers bent toward yourself is called “naga hands” and is supposed to be reminiscent of a naga’s graceful claws.

Bakunawa Just to highlight why nagas are so revered, I’m going further into the myth of Bakunawa. Specifically, the Bakunawa story comes from around the Visayas and Bicol regions of the Philippines which is south of the main island of Luzon. Bakunawa is said to be a giant sea dragon with a mouth as large as a lake. It lives deep in the ocean and has influence over the sea and earthquakes, in the depths of the underworld. There are a few versions of the story including that the Bakunawa is a naga that was enthralled by the beauty of the 7 moons and ate them until there was only 1 left. In some versions the god Bathala stopped Bakunawa from devouring the last moon. In other versions, the people down below made loud noises with pots and pans to scare Bakunawa from eating it. There are also another version in which the Bakunawa was once a beautiful goddess. It is also known as a man-eater in other tales. There are similar versions of a giant serpent or dragon-like bird causing eclipses (whether lunar or solar) in other parts of the Philippines.

Rain

I can’t tell you how important rain is in SEA. It’s not that it never rains, but that it rains a lot. Much of SEA is rainforests, which is an attribute that contributes so the rich biodiversity.

In RATLD, rain is depicted as a positive event...because it is. Raya and her friends are shown happy and laughing when Sisu makes rain. Sure, rain can be bad. Too much of it comes with typhoons and floods, but rain means a lot more than the bad things.

But enough rain means that the rivers aren’t dried out. Take the desert region of Kumandra for example. Raya goes there to the end of a dried up river. At the end when the dragons all come back, rain falls and the river is alive again. The people in that region can prosper again.

Rain symbolizes new life Now, this story I’m about to tell you is completely from oral tradition and was passed down to me by a culture bearer from from the island of Mindanao in the Philippines. This person said that when they were young, they did not have to worry about buying food because it was always available around them. If it rained, that was a good thing because it meant that the next day when the grass was damp, there would be mushrooms sprouting that they could pick. (There is an umbrella dance coming from this region that depicts mushrooms popping up after a storm.) If it was windy from the rain, it meant that there were fruit that would shake out of the trees. Rain also means food will grow. Staples like rice need a lot of water. Rice paddies need to be to be constantly flooded so that they can grow, and water means food whether it is in the form of rain, rivers, or the ocean. It means fresh drinking water and abundance.

Nagas and rain Remember how above I said that nagas can influence rainfall? Well, Sisu does just that in this movie. She says that one of her siblings originally had this power, and Sisu gained it because she came into contact with a piece of the dragon gem. This adds to the positivity of rain because nagas are already so revered because of the magic they can do in the movie (and in mythology), that the people that witness it are in absolute awe.

Rivers

Besides the ocean, rivers are the heart of SEA. From the Mekong River that runs through 5 SEA countries including Vietnam, Myanmar, Laos, Thailand, and Cambodia, to the UNESCO site of the underground river in Palawan, Philippines...rivers are just part of the lay of the land.

They are shown to be all of those things in RATLD. There are streams and tributaries that flow into mountains and underground where the dragon gem was originally hidden in Heart. Additionally, there is the incredibly long river that separates the land in the shape of a dragon that flows through all the regions of Kumandra, reminiscent of the Mekong. Rivers are so important that there is even a region in the Philippines called Pampanga that is named after the Tagalog translation of the word “river” seen in the first part of the region’s name, “pampang.” They are the people of the river.

There are whole fishing villages throughout SEA that are built on a river. In fact, there’s one in RATLD.

Rivers are a source of many things, including food and drinking water. When there is a flood during wet season, the land will be full of silt, making the land prime for planting.

I don’t have to tell you how important a water dragon is at this point, but the fact that the movie chose to have that be the shape of the river is significant because nagas live in rivers too.

Transportation This should be a no-brainer, but in case you forgot, rivers mean boats. Boats mean people will want to get around and trade. And, boat culture is so important in SEA. There are all kinds of boats in the region from the huge deep-water kind, to the fishing boats, to thin canoe-like ones, to coracles. You can see them especially showcased in the river town in Tail in Kumandra.

Oceans

Honestly, there wasn’t much about the sea in RATLD, but it’s important to note because nagas in and of themselves have origins in the ocean as well.

The sea is another very important core of SEA culture. Its waters are more unforgiving than rivers, and more unpredictable. Magical, mythological sea creatures tend to be more violent here, and will only be kind to those who are kind first.

In island nations like the Philippines and Indonesia, the people rely on the ocean for so many things. Especially if they live right on the water, some can be fantastic swimmers and can dive and fish for their own food. The ocean is respected, and it is feared.

Though there is no explicit ocean in RATLD, there are elements from port cities and towns that exist including the deep-water boats. In the movie and in SEA, seafood is important.

There’s a scene where Raya and Sisu meet Boun and he offers them shrimp congee. Shrimp is a popular food in SEA, and can be seen in many dishes besides congee or any rice-based dishes.

In the river town, we also see elements of passing fish baskets through the water after a day of fishing, and eating and buying fresh foods to cook later in a water-side market.

Irrigation

It’s pretty obvious that water is needed for irrigation, but just think about how earlier I pointed out how deeply water is utilized. Much of the food in SEA needs water to survive, a lot more than in landlocked countries.

Rice terraces Remember rice? It needs a heck ton of irrigation in order to survive. This means a lot of rain and a lot of soil cultivating. If you take a look at the rice terraces that surround Fang, and even the picture of more overgrown terraces next to the river in the transportation section of this analysis, you can see that rice paddies are supposed to be flooded. Rice terraces are all over Asia, but there are so many of them in SEA that are ancient and still work including the Tagalalang rice terraces in Bali, Indonesia and the Banaue rice terraces in Banaue, Philippines. Honestly I could talk about the importance of rice and water for ages. Sure, rice is a staple in all of Asia, not just in SEA, but in East Asia as well. However, I would argue that it is even more of a staple in SEA. Sure, there are noodle dishes, and bread, but rice is so ridiculously important that in the Philippines, it’s not considered a real meal if there is no rice. There is even a word for food eaten with rice, “ulam.” In fact, in the entire movie, I don’t think I can recall one eating scene in which the characters are not also eating rice with their food. Unless of course, it’s just a snack like fruit. (Maybe there was a stew only scene?) There is a scene towards the beginning of the movie when Raya asks Namaari, “Stew or rice?” when asking which she would prefer. Namaari never answers the question, but she says that it is her first time eating rice in a while. Though it’s never explicitly said, it could be implied that it is because they did not have as much rainwater for irrigation at the time.

Protection

I’ve talked about rivers and the ocean, but I haven’t talked about water as a barrier. Though water as a barrier isn’t an infallible one, it is still important to note.

Protecting from intruders SEA is separated by water. It is also a region that had wars within their own countries in pre-colonial times, and of course, when they were colonized. (Though shout out to Thailand for being lucky in that regard. It remains the only country in SEA not colonized by Europeans.) There were wars between chiefs in the Philippines, and often they had to traverse the ocean or cross bodies of waters to get to the lands they needed to fight on. It ended up becoming a process with a lot of planning. Though SEAs are people of the water, they obviously can’t breathe under it. Nagas here are also important because in RATLD they are seen as powerful, respected protectors. And of course, they are borne of the water.

If you take a look at the picture above, it shows that part of the movie when the water starts disappearing because Sisu disappears. As the last water dragon, her connection to the water was keeping the land alive. With Sisu gone, so was the water, and therefore the protection for the people. The Druun spirit came in with no more hindrances because there was no water to stop them.

The power of the water and the magical energy of the water dragon really showcased itself here.

Interconnectedness

SEA used to be an interconnected region that traded with each other. Of course, not that SEA countries don’t trade now, but it isn’t at the same level as before. The borders now were created after centuries of colonialization.

Water is what connected all the countries of SEA.

Just take a look at the map of SEA above (in red). There is no other region of the world that’s quite like this, except maybe Oceania and around the Mediterranean. It’s relatively easy for these countries and people to trade and share cultures and traditions with one another. Manila, Philippines and the Tondo region was once one of the most frequented ports in SEA. Trade was done with China, India, Africa, and the Middle East. The same kind of trade occurred in other SEA countries as well.

Because of the history of trade over water that is rich in its pre-colonial past, SEA shares many similar cultural aspects and even similar words in languages. Though of course, though there are similarities, there are a lot of differences as well. SEA is not a monolith.

If you want to think of it this way...that Korea, China, and Japan share so many things with each other including having a history of being able to share Chinese characters (the different names including hanzi, kanji, hanja), but that each country and culture is very different...that is what SEA is too.

This aspect of interconnectedness, yet with differences is emulated in RATLD. In the lore for Kumandra, the movie notes that all the regions were once one, but were separated after something broke them (that something being the malice of the Druun spirit). Yet, if they worked together they could become Kumandra once again.

It is shown in RATLD that the best way to make the spicy stew that is pops up multiple times, is to add all the spices and ingredients from all the regions of the land that was once Kumandra. This showcases that just like SEA, Kumandra was once a land of incredible interconnected communication and trade.

Kumandra wasn’t colonized, but it was separated by 500 years of land. The people didn’t use the water the same way. SEA was colonized (and actually, 500 years to the date on March 15, 1521 to March 15, 2021—the Philippines was “discovered” by the Spaniards so I wonder if that was a conscious choice on Disney’s part), and broken apart. I’m sure that without European colonialization, SEA could’ve been one huge interconnected country. Or bigger countries with different dialects.

Spirituality

Lastly, let’s talk about the spirituality of water. In RATLD, there are no other spirits besides the Druun which is made of discord and malice created from human malcontent. Yet, the Druun cannot go near water. I don’t know the exact reason for why it can’t or if it was inspired by a piece of mythology from an SEA country, but that is significant. (If you do know the reasoning behind this, please feel free to add onto this.)

SEA is full to the brim with myths and legends of nature spirits. From spirits that live in trees, to spirits that live in the water. And yes, they are spirits. They can be spirits of ancestors too. The way Chief Benja pours a bowl of water on Raya’s head as beads of it float into the air...it is a great touch to highlight the energy that water just inherently has in any SEA tradition.

Though it’s probably a little reaching to point this out, the fact that Sisu was said to be washed to the end of a river is so interesting when Raya is looking for her. This is because in some SEA myths the river takes your spirit to the underworld. Raya finds Sisu at the end of a river and she is made of stone, her spirit stolen until her power is unleashed again with the dragon gem.

Floating flowers Perhaps the most beautiful aspect of the movie and as it relates to water is the fact that the animators made a conscious choice to show so much imagery of characters making flowers float upon water. And of course, to use floating flowers as decoration. Characters like Raya, Boun, and Sisu float flowers that look like orchids or jasmine flowers to remember their lost loved ones. The choice of flowers is significant too. These are flowers that are native to SEA. There are flowers everywhere and that is so pretty and so accurate. To have them used as decoration floating in pools is also so nice too, because it is something that is done in households and not just in a palace. You can float a gardenia flower in a bowl of water to make the scent spread in a room, and it makes the flower last longer.

End

I’m sure there is a lot more I missed or things I got wrong. If you see anything you want to add or fix, please feel free to write it in any future reblogs!

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rainy-day-coffee · 3 years

Note

hi... how about head cannons about the dorm leaders with a magical girl mc from either the puella magi magica madoka, magical girl site, magical girl raising project or princess tutu universe please?

I'll be doing Magical Girl Raising Project for this one! I’ll be using the abilities found in the anime since I’m not creative enough to think of any myself. The personalities of the characters themselves have nothing to do with the abilities I chose, they’re their own person! This is written as platonic! I hope this is alright!

As an extra note, this was a really interesting topic to write about. I enjoyed it! I actually just binge watched this anime for this request! It was quite good, I might pick up the light novels!

Warning: Mild mentions of gore; spoilers for Magical Girl Raising Project(?)

Dorm leaders reacting to a Magical Girl Mc

A new game has been released! Customize your own Magical Girl and work hard to defeat monsters!

Granted a 1-in-10,000 chance to be a real-life Magical Girl, the unfortunate souls who agree to the contract are unknowingly pulled into a world of bloodshed. All Magical Girls are expected to collect Magical candies through acts of helpfulness. Whomever is at the bottom of the ranking list by the end of the week is greeted by death. That is, if they can even make it that far.

Magic: Swimming through objects as if they were water - the objects do not affect the user as they pass through them.

He’s never heard of an ability quite like yours! It isn’t teleportation--it’s literally going through objects, ignoring any kind of barrier. It sounds impossible. Understandably, he doesn’t believe you until you show him.

Please refrain from popping out of random places in an attempt to scare him. He doesn’t want to be on edge everyday, the stress he has now is more than enough.

He’s curious about the whole situation. Just how and why did these “people” wrap you (and others) into such a terrible contract? How is it possible to grant these special abilities onto otherwise magicless people? Unfortunately, you most likely don’t have answers for those questions.

Sadly, Riddle doesn’t know of a way to help you out of this. The library may have some information, but the chances are slim nonetheless. He can offer assistance in candy collecting instead!

Something always seems to be going on at his dorm, it would help him greatly if you were to keep an eye on everything and everyone. He knows it isn’t much, but every little bit counts. You have his full support.

Magic: Entering the dreams of others - the ability to pass through the Dream World, granting access to the dreams of those who are currently sleeping.

He’s extremely annoyed. He doesn’t understand what’s happening. He’s only seen you a couple times before, so why do you seem to plague all of his dreams?

In his dreams, you move so vividly and in-character, it baffles him. Dream versions of people can be accurate, but never to such an extent each time. He’ll confront you about it soon enough. He has no evidence of what you’re doing, however vivid memories of dream-you push him to demand answers anyways.

Highly uncomfortable to know his dreams, his usual safe place, can be invaded by a person. He demands that you stop. You can go bother someone else, he doesn’t need that kind of help. If he sees you in there one more time, he may have to resort to other methods to get you to stop.

In regards to earning candies, unless you ask him specifically for help, there isn’t much he can do. You can always help Ruggie out with chores around Savanaclaw and you’ll be set. It’s a good deal for both sides, you can earn some candies and Leona can finally sleep comfortably again.

He finds the system you’re stuck in deplorable. Unfortunately, he can’t get you out of it, but if you ever need extra help he can always have Ruggie find one or two ways to get you those extra candies you need.

Magic: Hearing the thoughts of those in need - with enough training, the user can pinpoint the location of a person. Additionally, they can hear thoughts apart from cries for help.

Your special magic interests him greatly. He already has a good pool of information of all the students, but being able to hear their most inner thoughts is something truly amazing. No amount of research could easily give him those kinds of details.

He has the twins watch over you for a bit, gathering as much information as they can about your situation and what you go about doing.

Given the circumstances, he doubts he can rob this ability of yours through a contract. This does however present an amazing opportunity.

This could blossom into a wonderful partnership. You need to collect candies, and he’s always willing to accept requests from those “poor” souls who need help. By helping him, you can meet your quota! The rules never did mention what kind of help you were limited to offer after all.

He pities you, nothing can be done about your situation at the moment. You can rest assured though, you’ll never be at the bottom of the leaderboard with him around!

When time allows it, Floyd and Jade will be busy poking their noses where they don’t belong. The mascot that appears when you’re around seems to come from that phone you use. If they can see it, then that means these beings have made a mistake somehow. Is it possible to find a way to free you from this through that?

Magic: Transforming into any biologically living being - the size and shape of the creature do not matter, anything is fair game.

When he first discovers your special magic, he’ll be amazed! Transformation magic isn’t exactly easy, so being able to turn into whatever creature you want sounds like a lot of fun!

He’ll be begging you to turn into a wide variety of animals. Can you please turn into a tiger? How about an elephant? Maybe an alpaca? This could go on for hours if you don’t stop him.

Upon learning the darker side of the Magical Girl world, he starts to cry. He knows the world isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, but this is too cruel. You didn’t know you would suffer this way. They should have at least given you all the information beforehand. Better yet, they shouldn’t be doing something so awful in the first place.

Because he finds it hard to keep secrets from Jamil, he ends up telling him about you. He then needs to convince Jamil that you aren’t trying to get him killed.

He goes around asking if people need help. He wants to do everything he can to ensure you survive. Money can’t get you out of this game, he’s tried to use it but that mascot that follows you around always refuses it.

Kalim doesn’t want you to die. Just thinking about it makes his head spin and worry bubble. It wouldn’t be his fault if you died in the first place, but the guilt would consume him entirely.

Magic: Freely manipulating sound - the user can generate sound from anywhere and even recreate the voices of others. As an added result of this ability, the user has enhanced hearing.

Vil won’t forgive you if you decide to mimic Epel’s voice so he can escape. He may be evading his lessons for now, but Vil will find a way to drill them into him later on.

He never would have thought such a thing was possible. This terrible fate you’ve had forced onto you makes no sense. The beautiful power you’ve been given is nothing compared to the price. He doesn’t blame you, he blames whatever is doing this.

If such a game exists in the world of Twisted Wonderland, he’ll use his influence to dissuade people from playing. Vil will do this behind the scenes of course, his public image has to remain intact.

He actively requests your assistance. For example, helping his dorm improve their instrument playing--your impressive hearing can detect small mistakes they need to work on. Apart from this, he regrettably can’t offer more help.

Hone your abilities and work with what you have. He knows you can prevail. Please take care of yourself as you move forward.

Magic: Receiving one futuristic tool a day - the ability to randomly pick one useful tool out of 444,444,444. The tool breaks down and is no longer of use after a day passes.

He’s in awe. A real life Magical Girl! To think they could really exist outside of anime! Just what kind of world did you come from? Forget living in a world where magic is common, Magical Girls are on a different level entirely! Curiosity gnaws at him, but given how shy he is he won’t approach you with questions himself. Ortho is more than happy to ask any questions for him in his place though!

Once he finds out you’re one of those Magical Girls, he feels a tad sympathetic. You really got the short end of the stick in life didn’t you? He knew the possibility was there, that trope is not uncommon, but a small piece of him wished it wasn’t the case.

He supposes your special magic can be compared to gacha luck. You never really know what you’re going to get. Unfortunately, in your case you can’t even calculate rates for good rolls.

If you’re willing to let him, he’ll happily take apart the tools and gadgets you get from your daily pull. One of those future items should help him create even better machines than he can now! And even they can’t, disassembling and reassembling objects he’s never seen is a thrill in and of itself

If you happen to hear a small tip from Ortho or someone else about an issue occurring around campus, it may or may not have been Idia. He has eyes all around the school, spotting problems is quite easy.

He’ll be rooting for you from the sidelines. You’re a protagonist in this story, he hopes you can make it through to the end.

Magic: Extreme regeneration - being able to recover from any wound so long as a portion of the user’s body is left.

Mortified when he finds your body all mangled and bruised after a rough “accident.” Malleus is ready to destroy whoever or whatever did this to you. He cares about you greatly, the very thought of seeing you in such a state makes his stomach churn and pure rage wash over him.

Once you explain your situation, he can grasp enough to understand the major gist of it. He doesn’t quite know what a “Magical Girl” is but obviously it isn’t something good. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be in such a terrible situation.

To know that you can take care of yourself in the face of danger, makes him relieved. Although he doesn’t like the idea of you getting hurt at all, a healing ability is always wonderful to possess.

While you earn candies, Malleus will be working on a way to free you.

Even if these beings who granted you this ability are “all-powerful,” his magical capabilities are among the top in all the world. Perhaps, he can start by politely asking for answers from the leader of this group. If that seems to fail, killing off that mascot seems like a good place to start instead.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #twst headcanons #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit #vil shoenheit x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader

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let-them-read-fics · 3 years

Text

Ghostin'

Requested By @heyziggy: "Song prompt -- 'Ghostin' by Ariana Grande. Reader is dating Rosé and misses her lost lover."

Pairing: Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3,676

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Death, Crying, Some Cursing, Some Fluff, Happy Ending

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Did I write this between the hours of 1 and 8am? Yes, yes I did. Inspiration struck and I was able to crank this one out pretty quickly for you! I'm happy with it, and I really hope you guys enjoy it. Let me know what you think :)

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

There they are again. Those eyes that have haunted you for the past year, turning what little progress you've made to dust within a second. People say time heals all wounds, and yet that's never felt further from the truth than it does right now.

A rough tremble wracks through your body as you toss and turn, your limbs reaching out for someone that'll never be there again. She's calling out to you, her arms outstretched as she waits in vain. Your feet are rooted in their spot and no amount of effort possible can make them budge. Tears roll endlessly down your cheeks, a steady stream that feels all too real in the moment. As you scream out her name, you faintly hear your own being called; it's distant, but accompanied by a strong grip on your shoulders.

"...Y/N."

Upon jolting awake, your eyes open to find Rosé hovering over you, propping herself up on her elbow. A thin sheet of sweat has formed on your skin, and you attempt to ground yourself by looking up at her. Slowly but surely, her features overtake the ones still burning in your mind from the dream and you're able to breathe again. She brings a hand up to your cheek, brushing her cool fingers against it lovingly.

Despite the darkness, you can see the bags underneath her beautiful eyes. "I'm sorry, baby."

She simply shakes her head in response, whispering, "Shhh, it's okay. I'm here to take care of you."

In one motion, you pull her into your arms and bury your face in her neck. This isn't the first time this has happened, and you curse yourself for forcing her to grow accustomed to it. She tries to disguise how much it affects her too, but her efforts are always futile; you can read her like a book, knowing that every time that name falls from your lips in a hushed shout, her heart breaks a little more. She doesn't blame you for a second, but neither of you can deny the strain it puts on your relationship.

She adjusts the two of you so that you're laying against her as she soothingly rubs your back. Sweet words of affirmation are whispered into your ear, and the tears you've been holding back soon begin to fall. Some drop from her eyes as well, but she takes comfort in the fact that you're in her arms, allowing her to hold you. Most of the time you push her away, leaving yourself to suffer alone in some cruel form of self-punishment. But now, if only for tonight, you let yourself sink into her warm embrace.

----

1 Week Later -- The Anniversary

12 months ago, today. That's when your world shattered for the first time and everything fell apart. Your heart had been free of such pain until that fateful day, innocent and unaware that sadness like that even existed. That was the first time you ever truly questioned a higher power, baffled that any 'benevolent ruler' could steal such a bright light away from the world. Your first love -- the girl you once imagined spending forever with -- was killed in a hit and run, left to die alone on the pavement.

A majority of your youth belonged to her: the two of you grew up together, slowly falling until you had enough courage to make her yours. Countless memories were made, back when you had no idea how much they'd mean to you in the future. Life was fun with her: she made the mundane things interesting, and the adventures unforgettable. She was unashamedly herself, never stopping for a moment to give a damn about what anybody else thought of her. The two of you had each other, and that's all that really mattered. She was everything to you.

She was.

You still find her in the little things. Whether it be a commercial for her favorite cereal, a bottle of her signature perfume catching your eye as you shop, or even just a flash of her favorite color, you swear that she's still around. After spending so many years with her, it's nearly impossible to imagine her gone. She was so full of life and enthusiasm when her presence still graced the Earth that the thought of her being faded, that twinkle in her eye forever extinguished, seems like an insult to her legacy.

How are you supposed to move on from something like that? Rosé has been one of the only things keeping your head above water ever since she walked into your life, but a limit exists to what even she is capable of. After getting absolutely no closure, not even being able to see the perpetrator brought to justice, you're left to pick up the pieces. You've always been the type to deal with things on your own, finding it selfish to bring your loved ones down with the weight of your pain, but even you have to draw the line somewhere.

Perhaps that dream had been a sign -- some type of cosmic warning for what was soon to come -- because that line was crossed today.

Her family requested for you to return to your home town and celebrate her life with them. The invitation was extended to everyone she had touched before her life was taken, and even those who wished to show their support despite not having the privilege of knowing her personally. You agreed, and spent the day surrounded by people just as sad as you.

It was strange, at first; being back in the place you had so desperately tried to run from to escape the reality of what happened. But seeing all of them again reopened wounds that had never really gotten the chance to heal in the first place. Her parents' faces, so tired and troubled beneath the mask they attempted to put on, struck a chord within you. Her brother tried to be strong for them, you could tell -- but upon hearing his stifled sobs coming from upstairs, you could see how much it all still affected him. Your old friends were there as well, and their stories of your shared escapades only broke your heart more. It was a physical pain now, the once dull pinch giving way to a full blown ache. As you walked around her house, replaying all of your experiences with her, you felt empty again.

She meant so much to everyone she ever uttered a word to, and yet she was gone in the blink of an eye. You'd think that someone as incredible as her would get some sort of divine protection, if you will -- a blanket of defense against such a cruel fate. But life works in ways we don't understand, and we have to find a way to deal with that. You'd hoped returning here would help you on that quest, but you've come to learn that no one really has access to that elusive answer.

Though the day brought on the reunion of so many of you, it ended just as it had started: none of you any closer to closure. It would take time, no doubt, but you wished more than anything that the road to peace was a little shorter.

-----

Rosé

Sweet, incredible Rosé. She waltzed into your life two months after the incident. A breath of fresh air in every way, she brought light back into your life. She refused to stand by and watch as you slowly destroyed yourself, letting the walls crash down around you. She made everything secure again, successfully keeping you sane and grounded.

Falling in love with her was never something you saw coming. The emotions took their time in building up, every considerate thing she did for you adding to your list of reasons for loving her. It all accumulated until you couldn't hide it anymore, and even she could tell that she was getting through to you. Your fragile heart seemed to forget about its brokenness, because it soared at the mere sight of her.

The day she asked you to be her girlfriend was an emotional one, to say the least. You accepted without hesitation, but a nagging voice in the back of your mind suggested that being with Rosie was a treasonous act. Trying to move on felt wrong; your confused heart sent mixed signals, thinking it possible to wait for your ex's return.

But Rosie dealt with it perfectly -- better than you could have ever wished for. Not one time did she try to take your ex's place; she always respected your process and boundaries, and she never drew comparisons between your relationships. Rosé knew from the get-go that times would get rough, but she never shied away. Arguments happened, as they do with any couple, but she watched her tone and always took time to think before she spoke.

Constantly, she worked to get you to let her in. Sometimes -- rarely -- she succeeded. On the nights that you found yourself crying over her again, your heart aching like usual, Rosie was always next to you in an instant. She hated seeing you so distant and hard on yourself, and she vowed from the beginning that she would be a positive influence in your life.

------

The Birthday

2 weeks ago, Rosé had requested today off in order to be by your side. Your ex's birthday is today, and Rosé knows you'll need her more than you're willing to admit.

"Baby, wake up. Let's get some breakfast."

She rolls over to wake you with a kiss, only to find you already sitting up with tears in your eyes. She reaches up to wipe them away, but you dodge her hand before she can. That's what she can't stand. Having you push her away, effectively keeping her at arm's length, hurts her so much more than you know.

Although she's talented at reading you, truth be told Rosé has absolutely no idea how today will go. You've yet to experience a day like today -- your ex's birthday -- without her here, and even you don't know what'll happen. Your mood is capable of changing in a whipstitch, so you'll have to see how the day plays out.

"Y/N, please." Her eyes are pleading as you look at her again, and they rake over your sad features. Your bottom lip trembles as more tears threaten to overflow, and you sink your teeth into it to quiet yourself. Wordlessly, you do as she asks: you press your forehead against hers and let out a broken sigh as she strokes your arm. Her touch is comforting beyond belief, and you can't help but feel like you don't deserve it. Constantly putting her through the same shit makes you feel like a terrible person.

"You're too good to me."

She goes to shush you like always, but you don't drop it this time.

You gently scoot away from her, meeting her eyes as she mimics your actions and raises her head.

"I can see that it gets to you, Rose. I hate myself for hurting you… I just keep letting you down."

She's prepared to ease your fears from the start, not willing to get into an argument right now. "Stop, okay? I knew what I was signing up for when we started dating. I'm a big girl, Y/N. I can decide when I want to stay and when I want to go. I knew from the beginning that we would have these struggles, and none of it has made me change my mind about you."

Her words make your heart flutter, but you still have plenty on your mind to discuss with her.

"You deserve someone without so much baggage. I can't pretend like I'm not still affected by it."

"When have I ever asked you to do that?" She cocks her head to the side, quirking an eyebrow as she waits for you to respond.

"You don't have to, babe. Seeing what it does to you is confirmation enough." You shrug lightly, allowing your eyes to break away from hers for a moment as you gather up what other words you want to say.

"You'll never admit it, not to the full extent, anyway, but I know I'm hurting you. That's the last thing I want; you deserve to be with someone who makes you happy."

"Jagi, do you really think our relationship makes me unhappy? I'll admit that this isn't always easy, but no relationship is, and never once have I even thought of leaving. You seem to forget about yourself in all of this; your happiness is just as important as mine."

She chooses to ignore the self-deprecating scoff you let out at her last sentence, opting to just continue with her train of thought; convincing you to value yourself is a battle for another day.

"So please, let me in. I want us to get through this."

"I do too, baby. So so much. I just can't help but think you could find someone better. I'm a fucking charity case at this point." You drop your head now, avoiding eye contact at all costs. You know she'll be upset with you for thinking so lowly of yourself, but her disappointment almost certainly pales in comparison to the contempt you hold for yourself.

With a heavy, tired sigh, Rosé hooks two fingers underneath your chin and gently lifts your head. "Y/N, look at me. I don't know how to make it any clearer to you: you are the person I want to be with. I want you in my future, and in order to make that happen I'm more than willing to help you deal with your past. I know it's not simple; I know it's never going to be easy; but I want you. All the strings attached."

You blink at the sincerity behind her words, a bit taken aback that she's so steadfast in her decision to stay with you. You've spent so much time convincing yourself that she's only with you because she feels sorry for you that you were blind to the true extent of her love. It's consistent and unwavering, and you've never felt more valued than when you're with her. To her, you never were nor will you ever be a charity case; she loves you because you're imperfect; because you need her just as much as she needs you.

"Okay."

The simple word from you is more than enough to put Rosie at ease, and she doesn't even try to stop the smile that spreads across her cheeks as you pull her into your lap for a hug.

A light squeak from the bedsprings serves as the only sound in your room as you silently hold one another. She knows that 'okay' was your way of telling her you're ready to let her in.

"I love you." You whisper against her neck, allowing your lips to brush against her soft skin. Both of your collars are wet with tears following the emotional moment you just had, but neither of you care.

"I love you, too, baby." She returns, pressing a kiss to your temple.

After spending a moment just holding one another, communicating your emotions through light touches and kisses, you lift up onto your knees and lay her back onto the bed. She cups your cheeks, loving how they feel beneath her fingertips as you stare into her eyes. Your hands sit on either side of her torso to hold you up, keeping you in place as you smile down at her. Intimate moments like these hold a special place in her heart, and she can never get enough of them.

"I'm so afraid of losing you, Rosie. God, you have no idea how much the thought of it terrifies me." You shut your eyes now, willing away the images of a life without her.

For some reason she had never really considered that to be a cause for your unreachability before. Looking back now, it makes perfect sense; losing someone so close to you in such an unexpected way can definitely make you afraid of getting close to people again. What if you lose them, too?

"I can't predict the future, my love, but I can promise you that I'll spend the rest of my days on this Earth next to you. And I'll find you in whatever comes after, too; you're not getting away from me that easy."

The last sentence is playful, and you smirk at her lightheartedness. She knows just what to say to lighten the mood.

"You're the greatest." You say, leaning down to capture her full lips in a meaningful kiss. She hums into it, pulling you flush against her body as she flips you over.

"Oh really?" She teases, pressing feather-light kisses to your jaw. She can feel your heartbeat pick up, and she grins cockily at the effect she has on you.

"M-mhm." You mutter out with a slight stutter, tracing your hands down her body before letting them rest on her hips.

"Why don't you show me, then?" She's straddling you now, and she pulls away from your neck to gaze down into your darkening eyes.

Soon the room is filled with a high pitched squeal as you pounce, pushing her backwards until her back hits the mattress again.

"As you wish, princess." You say, giving her a little salute before kissing her again.

She smiles against your lips and lets out a joyous giggle at your antics.

-------

The Second Anniversary

"Are you ready, baby?" She asks, turning to look at you and gauge your reaction.

You let out a jagged breath, the air leaving your lungs a bit unevenly as you try to steady yourself.

With a nod, you exit the car and walk around to open Rosie's door. "Such a gentlewoman." She says, garnering a genuine smile from you. Her playful tone calms you, and you peck her lips in a sweet kiss.

"Come on, let's go inside."

At your words, she slips her hand into yours and the two of you begin your journey towards the house.

The rest of the day goes by better than you had ever imagined possible: Rosé joined conversations easily, and she offered plenty of comfort to everyone in need of it. Her presence is enough to lessen anyone's pain, but she truly showed her skills today.

Towards the end of the celebration, your ex's parents pulled you away from everyone else and into the hallway for a private word.

"We want you to come visit her, with us."

Your first instinct is to adamantly refuse, but the looks on their faces are enough to give you pause. No amount of time can make up for the loss they've had to endure, and you know they wouldn't have asked unless they really needed you there.

"Okay, we'll be there."

They pull you in for a hug, and Rosé tears up at the emotional moment. She sends you an understanding look once you eventually meet her gaze from across the room, and you give her a sad smile in return.

----

The Visit

"Hey, baby; it's us again. Everybody came by earlier and it was so nice."

"You would've loved it, baby girl. We all miss you so much."

They hold each other close as they take turns speaking to her, their voices a little stronger than you remember them being last year. Slowly but surely, they're learning to adjust to life without their daughter.

You turn your head to the side, burying your face in Rosé's hair to distract yourself from the sadness creeping in. You hadn't come back to the cemetery since her funeral, so even just standing there causes the memories to come flooding back. Rosie's grip on you is strong, and you thank her for that; without her you'd surely be a wreck by now.

A few minutes later, her parents step to the side and look over to you in a wordless request for you to say something.

"Hey, champ." You crouch down next to her tombstone, missing the way her parents smile at the old nickname you used to call each other.

"It's me. I hope you're happy up there… you deserve to be. You'd better save us some good seats." You tease, reaching up to dust some dirt off of the sleek surface of stone. The material is beginning to become rougher, you note to yourself.

"Thank you for taking such good care of Y/N. I owe you the world." Rosie smiles bittersweetly, resting her hand on your shoulder as she looks down at the picture on the tombstone.

Something -- some unmistakable force, a gut feeling -- tells you to look up. You listen to it, slowly raising your head until you can see the expanse of the cemetery in front of you. The evening sun is giving way to a breathtaking sunset, and the remaining golden rays filter in through the leaves of the tall trees overhead. A flash of brown hair catches your eye, and you almost gasp at what you see.

There she is.

Your ex -- well, more specifically, the ghost of her -- stands amidst the tree line that borders the property. She raises a hand up to wave at you, offering a peaceful smile as she glances between Rosie and you. You smile your own lopsided grin at her, and soon after, she fades away completely.

Inconspicuously, you look up at her parents. They have a knowing look on their face as you stand up and loop an arm around Rosé's waist, pulling her in close to rest your forehead against hers. She kisses your cheek before using her finger to poke the soft surface adorably.

"Ya know," her father starts, pulling your attention away from your girlfriend.

"She visits us too, sometimes." He finishes with a smile.

A content feeling settles within your chest at his words, and you let out a soft sigh.

She always was a sucker for happy endings.

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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

Text

classic

pairing: Jack Daniels (Agent Whiskey) x reader

wordcount: 3k

warnings: none, tropes on tropes on tropes, weird descriptions of things

summary: good, old fashioned fan fiction chaos

notes: there’s no getting around it - everything I write with Jack is inevitably influenced and inspired by @scribbledghost s version of him, particularly her neighbor!whiskey. I tried not to, but I still feel I should give credit!

It was the kind of razor your grandfather would have used – more of a knife than anything, because of course it was.

Of course this would be edge that your housemate used to slide along his jaw and chin and cheeks to make that perfect mustache before work in the mornings. He was the type to love old fashioned, traditional, dangerous things - it made sense. After all, that was why you were staying in the guestroom of his ranch home while your apartment was being renovated. Old fashioned courtesy between friends, of course.

Dangerous.

Jack had caught you watching him, impressed in spite of yourself as the sharp blade scraped over his neck, neatly slicing the hairs on his throat, and pushing your heart into yours. It was unnecessarily intense, dramatic, the touch of risk for the sake of vanity. It made you swallow, awed that he wasn’t covered in little cuts, and almost aroused at how casually he used something so akin to a weapon. And that alone made him smirk, cocky, as though he had been waiting for you to notice, hoping to impress you.

A few days later he’d coaxed you to him, settled in a chair with his legs spread wide with confidence as he handed you the tool, smug with confidence – almost a challenge. He had gotten wrecked at work – he actually had, and it was the perfect excuse to draw you close, make you bend to his will. Schoolyard tactics, really, but all of this was, and it was worth it to have your eyes on him alone, face a breath away from his.

It was about trust more than anything. Not that you would ever hurt him, but the power of being over him was heightened by the intimacy as you lathered the cream over his skin.

His deep eyes bore into you, not flickering to the blade as you tried to focus on your task. If he had asked you a different time, another day, you maybe could have refused, but somehow his wanting your steady hand felt heavy with implication.

Ignoring the quickening steps of your heart, your fingers grasped his chin, shaving away the stubble he’d let grow just for this. Each slice of smooth skin revealed left a thick line of froth and hairs on the blade, and you got to breathe as your turned away to wipe it off. You could feel his gaze, still, but you couldn’t bring yourself to meet it. Hovering over him while he was seated, touching his jaw, leaning close, and meeting those brown eyes would have been too much.

Your denial was as a solid as a wall with half sunk into the ground with cement – almost rooted in your fear of rejection.

It was a challenge to ignore the shots of adrenaline that filled you when he’d reach around you to grab something in the fridge, his chest against your back, hand on your hip. Already you had shoved down the butterflies in your stomach when he’d offered you a place to stay, carried your boxes, and called you sweetheart. You had spent far to long ignoring the way he hadn’t brought a single girl home since you’d been there to fold now and admit anything. Because if you did, there was a chance you would lose your friend forever, and that was out of the question.

You kept your eyes down to keep your hands steady.

For his part, Jack’s plan was only half working. He liked your attention, liked the way your breath hitched as you wiped him clean. But you were closer than you had ever been, patting in the aftershave and you wouldn’t look at him, wouldn’t open the door for him to push the tools and towels aside and kiss you. All he wanted was to grab hold of you and pull you into his lap and make you melt against him but there wasn’t a moment.

You’d been friends for a long time, been there for each other countless times and he had yearned for you almost as long. At first, he tried to deny it too, grabbing at random women and hating himself when he imagined they were you as he pulled them into his room.

Then he’d given that up, stopped pretending anyone could replace you, that anyone else occupied his dreams, anyone else could be as good a fit for him, and went after you full speed. It had honestly been innocent to invite you to stay, instinct instilled in him from his childhood. Still, he had begun to see the opportunities for the two of you to enjoy intimate domesticity right away, when he’d cooked you dinner and you’d talked at his table for hours, finally not worried about having to drive home. He ached for that – not ever really having to leave you, and he spent more nights than he’d like to admit thinking of knocking on your door.

Only… you were still in your denial phase. Not sleeping around just pretending it was normal to sink into his arms after a bad day, to let your friend play with your hair until you fell asleep, to watch his lips as you gently helped him shave.

It was too vulnerable, to high of a risk to go after you with the chance that you weren't ready. The last thing he wanted was to scare you away.

“What, really?” you said, genuinely surprised. When you’d accepted to stay, he’d promised you there would be no problems, but now you felt guilty.

His mama was coming to town, and would more than likely be staying with him.

“I’ll find somewhere else!”

Jack was already shaking his head at you, like you were missing the joke, but he looked… almost nervous? You couldn’t tell, it wasn’t something you saw on his face often.

“Actually, sweetheart, I was hoping you could do me a favor,” he was asking, but it’s not like you could actually say no you him, when he shot that winning smile your way. It was like not petting a puppy – and you were the opposite of allergic to cowboy secret agents.

“You know Mama Daniels,” he said and you smiled, having spent many a summer helping her in her garden, and being thanked with dinners heavy with butter and love. “She’ll like you here, she’ll be over the damn moon.” And you conceded. It would be more than nice, to spend time with such a wonderful woman, an Jack had invested in a very comfortable couch. For a week you enjoyed a hopeful bliss, that she would help remind you Jack was just your friend.

The sun was shining through the windows, the winding almost singing a quiet, breathy song, and everything was as spotless as you could manage. Well worn quilts were clean, and you had set up a little station for yourself in the living room determined to make it your home for the week.

Then she came with a jacket that matched her slacks and shoes with little buckles and a paisley suitcase full of presents for her son, who she insisted wasn’t really grown. She hugged you and scolded you for being at work instead of coming to pick her up, and finally settled at the kitchen table, her intentions clear. You were to sit and catch up - Jack was already pulling the sweet tea you’d made from the fridge and a reused sewing tin filled with butter cookies appeared out of her purse.

Meekly, you sat, knowing if you didn’t eat the cookies in quantity, she would pout her whole visit. You could feel Jack settle at your side as she talked, warm and solid, a comfort, despite the heat of the day.

The cookies disintegrated on your tongue, melting with a burst of sweet before the bite was gone. They were full of love and maternal affection and things that you hated to spend money on and made all bad thoughts disappear. You were thankful your mouth was full of one when she mentioned, offhandedly, how plum delighted she was when she found out the two of you were finally dating. Abruptly, you remembered just how wrong your previous hope was.

The sweet lady had been hinting for you to marry her son since before he’d mastered his first lasso, and apparently, she was sure that moment was well on its way.

“And living together, no less!” she was beaming with pride, tradition apparently irrelevant as she chatted happily about it.

Turning to the man by your side, you found him choking, trying to breathe through the cookie he’d accidentally inhaled. There was a white ring around his irises as he stared at you, panicking and aptly confused. Sure your face matched his, you jerked your head at his mother, a silent argument ensuing.

Did you do this?

No!

What do we do?

We can’t break her heart!

It went unnoticed. You felt helpless, drinking your tea and trying not to have a small meltdown in front of a very misinformed lady who had brought you cookies.

He was your friend! And sure, you liked the weight of his arm around your shoulders or could get lost in the drawl of his voice but that was normal! It was normal to be so comfortable with him as the beginning, end, and highlight to each of your days.

Sounding weak even to yourself, a crack, solid and formidable, formed in the wall you created to protect yourself and the friendship you had built.

“Ma’am, I’ll be back in a moment,” you whispered, grabbing your phone as you grasped at air, hoping beyond logic that you could pretend it was an important call.

You didn’t exactly run away, but you walked very quickly outside, mourning the loss of your little guestroom, and the privacy it offered.

Jack would never, ever smack his mama but he did want to say some choice words. Nothing could have prepared him for the last two minutes of his life, first the embarrassment of the misunderstanding and then… the fear in your eyes.

He hated it, hated it so much more than he ever thought he could, hated that it was probably his fault it was there. And he hated that it shrouded the longing he had begun to see there, these past few weeks. Long strides carried him after you, hearing his own voice distantly saying words, explaining maybe, as he left the table.

There was a tree, trunk too wide to wrap your arms around, thicket of leaves creating bean-shaped shadow on the ground, by one corner of his home.

You were behind it, almost like a child, letting the bark press lines into your forehead. The dappled lighting did wonders for you – you looked the perfect picture of a storybook wanderer in distress.

Jack slowed, overwhelmed with the desire to encompass you in his arms, slay your dragons, and whisk you away. Now was not the time.

He kept his voice soft, reaching for you in place of his hands, trying hopelessly to find the root of your panic.

You were just as quiet, telling him it was fine, you would pretend, as long as you’d talk tonight, after she went to sleep. His heart was creating dramatic movie scenes where you would float into his room, declaring your love for him, before settling in his arms, but he shook them away, agreeing.

Smile over-bright, you touched his smooth cheek a moment too long, before pushing past him back towards the house.

He allowed the afterglow of his daydream to wash over him only a moment before he jogged go catch up with you.

The quilt on Jack’s bed had chickens on it, of all things. It was one of those that had clearly been homemade, years and years ago, taken care of, but worn at the edges with memories and use. One pillow had a dent for his head, the other was squashed into an unrecognizable shape

You didn’t know that it wasn’t like that, before. That his arms had only started searching for something to hold onto since you had been around.

All of his room was new to you – it made you feel strange, realizing that for weeks you’d been in his home but not this part of his space.

The afternoon his mother came, he’d been called into the field. You had never quite seen the look on his face as he reasoning fell on deaf ears – desperation and frustration like ants ruining honey on a picnic. The flannel across his back bunched as his shoulders had filled with tension before he stripped it off to change into his work clothes. Jack kissed his mothers cheek and spewed instructions for the both of you, some apologies spilling out and others kept just behind his eyes as he grasped your hand.

His final command was for your ears alone - that you take his room, and you’d been too panicked to refuse. The last three days, the smell of him and the memorabilia scattered around the space kept you company when his mother went to sleep and you slept in his bed for the first time, alone.

It was surprising how sentimental he was. His hooks had another cowboy hat on them, a little wider, brown, and considerably more worn. There was a stack of printed photos in a little box by his bed – it was open, and some of the photos had oil-worn fingerprints along the edges. You found ones of you, and your heart flipped inside your chest.

You should have realized it was impossible to deny yourself, your feelings, with him surrounding you like this. Each thing you learned, each reminder of him practically reached off of the walls, as if he were there, coaxing your heart into his hands. It felt silly, almost, that you even tried to ignore it - you had missed him the moment his hand left yours. Now you had all the time to process, surrounded by his neatly folded shirts and the line of his favorite boots.

The idealized illusion of your relationship had only lasted half a day of living with his mother. Her warm brown eyes were too much like her son’s – you couldn’t lie to them. It was good though, for her to hold your hand a listen to you talk as the birds gossiped outside the window and steam seeped out of the pie you helped her bake. Miraculously, she wasn’t disappointed with you, commending your honestly, and explaining that if she was patient until now, then she could certainly continue to do so.

The more you talked to her, the more you suspected that she was right, all along. She helped you dig up the walls, her kind determination the shovel you needed for those concrete roots.

You would work and talk and tuck yourself into his chicken-clad blanket at night and finally, finally let yourself think of him, allow yourself to be in love with him. You didn’t know he had started actually living in his room again, when he’d started letting himself love you. That he thought of your smile when he’d found his old quilt. Still, the more you thought, the more you could admit to yourself that maybe, just maybe, he loved you too.

That was how Jack found you - absorbed in your thoughts - the whiskey in his hand as forgotten as the mission and the agent he’d played for the past seventy eight hours and twenty one minutes.

He watched through the half open door, words failing him as you sat up, startled and the way your eyes searched for injuries made him want to eat you alive.

There was nothing that could’ve prepared him for the sight of you in his bed, even though he had told you to be there and three days to daydream about it. It was intensely intoxicating, having someone care for you so intimately.

With his sheets sliding down around your waist, you looked as good as the pie on the counter, as if a single snapshot could encompass everything he wanted home to be.

You were wearing a shirt he’d given you, years ago, and he swallowed, hard.

“Are you up for that talk?” his voice was rough. It would have been nice, to relish in the feeling of you checking him over, attention on him as he unwound, but he couldn’t wait. This moment was three days overdue.

“I told your mom we aren’t dating,” you blurted and he smiled, having guessed as much. Smoothing the blanket, your hand patted the spot next to you, your legs crossing.

In that, Jack knew something had changed since he left you. The flickering fear had fled your eyes, and you seemed settled into your skin more than ever before.

He sat next to you, having played over how this talk would go a million times, and still not finding the right words. Confidence was easier to find when he was flirting, poking at you, but seemed foreign in the din lights of his bedroom. Instead he shifted trying to lean back with his arm along the headboard, hoping he didn’t seem like a teenager trying to buy himself time.

You began to talk, saving him, and all the things you’d processed with his mama tumbled out of you before you were realizing that you were confessing how much he truly meant you. In hindsight, it shouldn’t have been strange how comfortable you felt, but in the moment, you were in awe.

Jack was as handsome as always, if a little roughed up, like he’d worn the same clothes a few days in a row. You wanted to run your fingers over the short, patchy beard he had going, and without a second thought, you did, feeling his cheeks move as he smiled crookedly and leaned into the touch.

There was only a moment of quiet, crickets outside, before he said, “I missed you, too.” And then, “Will you stay, sweetheart?”

When you whispered, “Where else would I go?” he kissed you.

It was late, and there were still words unsaid, questions to be answered, but you both let yourselves get lost, exploring each other. Long moments passed, letting all the pent up yearning overflow like cool water after a long, hot day. Then the next steps came out, whispered between kisses and as he moved over you, shucking the final walls between you, you found yourselves actually dating, and maybe even actually living together.

Old fairy tales and historic romances played in the back of your mind, inserting their logic into your life like had never quite made sense before.

And you wondered if you had time in the morning, and his mama didn’t give you too much grief, if he would let you help him shave, and eat pie for breakfast. Because for the life of you, you couldn’t think of a single reason why not.

Taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @0celestialbitch0 @beautyagegoodnesssize

#this got away from me #jack daniels x you #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x you #kingsman #maybe i don't know people

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fabdante · 3 years

Text

Not to keep on with this but right so I made a post about Vergil and Bernini and in that post I mentioned what art works and pieces I think represent the other parts of the DmC trio, Kat and Dante. And I just wanted to follow up on that with more focused posts because yall have no idea, I’m very into this whole thing.

First up: Dante

So Dante I go into a good deal in the Baroque essay already so some of this is a rehashing but I just wanted to go more in depth about Dante and Caravaggio’s Davids.

(David and Goliath, 1599)

(David with the Head of Goliath, 1607)

(David with the Head of Goliath, 1610)

More about Dante, Caravaggio, and especially that last David under the cut! This one got a little long.

Ok so first things first, like discussed in the Baroque essay, Dante is Baroque and the game is based around Caravaggio’s Baroque to a point where many of his paintings are directly referenced. That last David in particular is referenced directly in the game. See below:

so I’m not really saying anything the game hasn’t really done itself here. Dante is the main character, he is represented by Baroque and Caravaggio. That’s his vibe, that’s the parallel. And it’s a very intentional one I mean in Talexi’s art book he discusses picking Caravaggio as an influence and the overlap between Dante’s whole deal and Caravaggio’s own. But I’m like really into Caravaggio’s David’s and want to talk about that and the neat way this plays with Dante’s whole deal so, let’s do it.

To quickly summarize Caravaggio and the background of his last David: Caravaggio was an angry guy who worked in Rome during the Baroque period until he killed a guy for Reasons (probably a bet, possibly a woman, possibly a tennis match or something, probably the bet). He gets kicked out of Rome, does some stuff (joins a knighthood? at some point then leaves the knighthood?), gets word that the pope wants to pardon him. He goes back to Rome with some art but dies on the way at the ripe age of 38. One of the paintings with him that makes it on this trip is the last David.

What I like about Caravaggio’s David’s is how different they are then other David’s that come up in the art history canon. Just for comparison I’ll share the famous David but also Bernini’s David from the same time period.

(The David, Michelangelo)

(David, Benini. Pain to get a photo of s2g)

The first key difference is I mean, all three of Caravaggio’s David’s are wearing clothes which I think is neat in that I imagine he would be wearing those given the situation. But beyond that, what strikes me about Caravaggio’s David’s is their youth. In the biblical story, David is more the age Caravaggio consistently depicts him at. Which is about approximately preteen or teenage. The second thing that strikes me is the confidence and power displayed in Bernini and Michelangelo’s David’s evoke. But Caravaggio’s are not confident, not the way these one’s are. And especially that last one.

Caravaggio’s David is unsure. He’s just done this thing, killed this man, but he doesn’t seem to have quite processed it in the first two. But in the third, he is processing it. And he’s not processing it well. This is a David who is unsure. This is a David who seems to pity the man who’s head he now holds by the hair. This is a David who is not strong and unwavering and confident and elegant, this is a child who just killed a man. This echo’s in the games interpretation of the scene, that same worry echoing in Dante’s brow that’s in Caravaggio’s. It’s a sympathetic David in that he seems to be unsure if this choice was worth the personal toll but also in the sense that the viewer is sympathetic to him, they feel bad for this child who has just been forced to make this choice.

Reboot Dante’s life is not one about choice, it’s not really something he seems to be able to do often. Sparda put him into the orphanage and the orphanage put Dante into the foster care system. And ever since then Dante has had to fight. Not by choice, but by necessity. It show’s in his combat style, in his clearly untrained movements focused on power and strength rather then tactics. Vergil, if you watch him fight, he’s much more elegant, his style reflecting practice and technique. Dante, though, throws everything into his movements to kill as fast as possible. That if he just swings hard enough, this’ll all be over faster. He even stumbles in his combat because he’s put so much power into his swings, it’s my favorite little detail.

In the game, it’s mentioned that Dante’s first recorded demon kill was when he was eight years old. It was one of the ‘caretakers’ at the facility he was in. I often wonder if that’s the moment that they were trying to depict in this image, the moment after that. I'm not really sold that he looks eight here but I mean you be the judge of that but bare with me. It’s the mood, that moment right after he’s been forced to enter his new reality for the first time. That he is going to have to fight like this the rest of his life. That bewilderment and regret and just general disbelief that he’s done this, that he’s just killed something. That sorrow for the Dante he was before, like that sorrow that David must be feeling for who he was before as well.

But there’s a second layer here I haven’t gotten to yet. And that’s how Caravaggio’s David is also thought to be a self portrait. No, he’s not David. Caravaggio has painted himself as Goliath. A portrait of Caravaggio for reference:

(Caravaggio as depicted by Ottavio Leoni in 1621)

Usually this is read as a tongue and cheek thing to the pope, like Caravaggio is offering himself in the ultimate repentance for his crimes. He’s sorry, here’s his head on a platter. But there’s something about it being a self portrait coupled with David’s pity for this Goliath that feels kinda...sad in a way.

Further context to this is Caravaggio, on the run or not, did not have a studio. He was a solo artist, which is a bit odd for the period at his level. He did not take students, so his techniques died with him. No one else worked on his paintings, they’re all by his hand. This in particular David was not commissioned either, it was done as a gift. So this was a deliberate thing entirely thought through by him, painting himself as Golith, painting David so full of pity and grief.

It’s sort of this idea of pity for the monster when you yourself are the monster as well as a sort of self hatred. Which reboot Dante is familiar with. Either Dante, preboot or reboot, kind of has this arc about trying to cope with being half demon while hating being half demon. It’s not a part of himself that he likes. The reboot goes further with this though because he doesn’t even have the solace of being half human, he’s also half angel. Reboot Dante goes from seeing himself as a human being to being told no, your not, your the things that you hate and it’s your job to protect people anyway. You are both the out of control monster and a threat, but also their protector.

In either reboot or preboot this isn’t like the most explicit character beat, though it does come up. In the reboot we see it peak through in moments like Dante’s interactions with Phineas. The ‘my father was a demon and I’m nothing like him’ mentality. The reboot makes this more pressing to in that like, the reboot makes it clear that demons are not a hive mind. While they seem to vary in intelligence and free will and all that, the game does not imply that Phineas and Sparda are alone in their grievances where as the preboot paints demons like Sparda and Trish as complete oddities. But part of either Dante’s rejection of Sparda is always rooted in ‘Sparda is a demon, and I’m nothing like the demons.’

This is interesting in the reboot because, unlike Vergil, reboot Dante is always visually contrasted with demon imagery. His world is very red. His color is red. The colors on him, even the blacks and grays, are warm tones. His devil trigger is designed in such a way that the abundance of reds in it are even more prominent then his initial design. The only time he’s not is the scene with the graffiti where he’s positioned on the side with the angels. But visually it’s still made clear. Dante is the demonic twin, Vergil more angelic. On top of that, characters in the reboot love to point out how Dante reminds them of Sparda. Phineas does it and Mundus really does it (the ‘just like your father, too big for your fucking boots’ line). Which further puts Dante at odds with his identity. As much as he thinks he is nothing like Sparda, he’s his fathers son. He’s the demon half of this twin relationship.

I think to like Caravaggio’s David’s just...they don’t want to do this. They’re just kids. They don’t want to kill their Goliaths. But they have to. Which is the spot we see reboot Dante in. He doesn’t want to save the world. He doesn’t want to fight for his life as often as he does. He doesn’t want this. But he has to do it. He might say he doesn’t give a shit, but what’s his choice? When has he ever had a choice? He’s the unwilling savior.

This runs through the game to. Dante doesn’t really want to be here. He makes that clear a lot. And his bravado is constantly a cover to keep him from being too vulnerable, too exposed. But it’s that last fight with Vergil where it all falls apart. He did this because Vergil asked him to, and Vergil didn’t even tell him the truth. And just like everything else, Dante doesn’t want to kill Vergil. He doesn’t want to fight him. But he’s provoked him anyway and got himself in this fight and he can’t let Vergil take the throne. David can’t just let Goliath go.

It’s the end of the game where we finally have Dante completely free of his walls and completely bare and entirely unaware of who he is and what he’s supposed to do next. It’s the same sort of vulnerability that I feel is abundant in that last David. Who is he now after all of this? Does he like this person? What’s he to do now that he knows what he’s capable of, knows what he’s done?

What makes him any different then this head in his hands?

#dmc devil may cry #dmc reboot #devil may cry reboot #dmc reboot dante #devil may cry reboot dante #reboot dante #fab talks meta

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pynkhues · 3 years

Note

what do you think was the symbolism of the "they like you on red" line? i didn't really get that part but saw someone saying that "it was a nice touch". i just thought it meant that women liked beth in red and nothing else but i guess i was wrong.

Hi hi! I think it's one of those lines that can mean whatever you want it to mean, anons, but there's definitely a lot that can be read into it as cinema has what we tend to call a 'colour language'. In that, colours have certain meanings that years of visual storytelling has effectively canonised, and it means that shows and movies use those colours to tell us things about the characters, themes, relationships and story overall.

There's a really good, short, introductory article about it here on No Film School, and I'd really recommend watching the video there too as it's a lot of fun, but for the colour red, it boils down to this:

RED – anger, passion, rage, desire, excitement, energy, speed, strength, power, heat, love, aggression, danger, fire, blood, war, violence

All of the core six characters have worn red at varying points in the series, and I'd say it has a different meaning in each of the characters. For Ruby and Stan for instance, they very frequently wear red at the same time, which, in my reading, gives those scenes a strong thematic throughline of strength, unity and love and shows them as partners in their relationship.

Beth's relationship with the colour red though is, I think, a really defined one across the series, and the show drawing attention to it through that exchange with Beth and Nick was interesting, because it was rooted in Nick trying to control Beth's image, and Beth rebuking that by saying she doesn't wear red, which is a lie. Red is probably the colour she wears third most after black and blue, and it's a colour that's had significance for her since the start.

Namely, it's a colour heavily associated with Beth's relationship to power – both the loss and the gain of it, and frequently as a one-two punch in the same sequence.

As the series has progressed, it's gotten more nuanced with how it utilises red on Beth, moving from feature to trimmings as her wardrobe increasingly darkens as she further emulates Rio, but it's meaning I think is fundamentally the same. Beth has a complicated relationship with power, and that's realised through the way she wears red.

This has actually been there since 1.02, and has been a regular touchstone, so hey, let's take a look at that a bit:

In s1, the colour is much more the focal point because I think Beth's relationship to power was a lot simpler. She either had some, or she had none, and so the boldness of the red was really about encapsulating these moments when she felt powerful or powerless. We see that I think especially in the scenes where she's both – like how Rio's arrival in both 1.02 and 1.07 shifts the balance away from her.

In a lot of ways, s2 is an extension of that dynamic, but as the power plays between Beth, Rio, Turner and Dean all escalate, the use of red in the costume team is even more defined. This becomes particularly clear in moments like 2.03 when Beth gets the key from Rio, the entirety of 2.04 where the pendulum swings between her and Rio and her and Dean, and especially in 2.10, where Beth wears red almost the entire episode. Notably, it's an episode where she has almost no power at all, and she chafes against that until her showdown with Turner at the end of the episode.

S3 meanwhile massively pulls back on the red. It features in a few pivotal moments, particularly in the middle of the season, but otherwise is pretty absent from Beth's wardrobe overall. Again though, the outfits that incorporate red are tied to not just power, but control as well. Her red floral sweater in 3.01 is something she wears across the episode as she tries to build her operation and, successfully, maintain the balance in her life, and when the colour comes back into her wardrobe in 3.07 and 3.08, it's when she's starting to regain a degree of control.

And then s4! Red's back! And interestingly, with the exception of the dream sequence, it's always paired with black – with black as a base colour, a blazer, or the pyjamas underneath her robe.

Red in s4 I think evolves to not just be about power, but the way the line has blurred between the personal and the public, the criminal and the domestic. The maroon robe in particular is frequently worn by Beth at really pivotal moments where this happens – when she thinks she's about to be arrested only for Dean to be, when Rio delivers her the new plates, when she finds out Annie's been kidnapped, when Rio returns to her what he stole.

This blurring of lines is more than just the blurring of these spaces, it's the blurring of how one impacts her power in the other. Her getting rid of the Canadian money professionally led to a loss of power in her personal life by Rio taking Annie, just like how her personal conflict with Stan led to her leaning into her personal power over Phoebe to get the fake cash back for Rio, which in return led to him giving her more professional power again with the plates.

Red is a power colour, and it's considered one as much in real life as it is in cinematic language, and it's one the show often leans into (gosh, even look at Beth and Stan's fight in 4.09 where he's wearing red as he holds the power, and Beth black with only the smallest trimmings of it as she loses it).

The scene with Nick and Beth, like I said above, was sort of encapsulating all of this. Nick wants Beth to dress a certain way as a means to demonstrate his own influence (even if he does it through the constituents), and Beth balks because she doesn't like being told what to do anymore. I think it can be read just on that level, but I think the show has consciously and purposefully built a thematic narrative for Beth through the colour red too, and I think that's pretty fun to pick apart, especially given she, in true Beth form, rebels and wears pink instead.

#i think the show says a lot with the girls' wardrobes tbh #but beth's has evolved so much since s1 and the way they still bring items back to reuse #like that shirt above when she turns herself in to turner in 2.13 being the same she speaks in front of city council to in 4.14 #*4.13 #sorry i can no longer type apparently haha #beth boland #set dressing #nbc good girls #nick martin #beth + nick #welcome to my ama

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theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin · 3 years

Note

Hi! I’m a big fan of your work!! I am looking for more but unfortunately I feel like I have read all yhe good Harry Potter docs on Ao3. Do you have any recs?

Sorry for the delay, I just know that whenever I make rec list it usually ends up taking a while.

With that, Harry Potter fics are a big genre. Just saying Harry Potter in general really isn’t that specific to me so this is across genres/character focuses/you name it.

Also, as usual, I’ve been on fanfiction longer and have amassed more favorites there. Some of these are cross posted to Ao3. Similarly, a lot are unfinished, this personally doesn’t bother me but if it bothers you take heed.

Also, you’ll see my embarrassing obsession with Tom Riddle. So, heads up for that.

Stepbrother (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, period piece, in which the two remind me a lot of Nabokov)

Cat Among the Pigeons (Tom Riddle/Lily Evans, Psycho-Pass Detective AU, in which I am a beta actually so my promoting this goes without saying)

Til Death Do Us Part (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Voldemort wins AU, which for me does very well with the concept of immortality and what exactly Tom is supposed to do after he wins)

This Tangle of Thorns (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, modern AH AU, a full on Nabokov inspired fic which I enjoy because Lolita)

Delusional (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, sort of. Harry wins the war, goes crazy, checks into a mental hospital. Or he’s not crazy and Voldemort is as unkillable as Palpatine.)

Harry Potter and the Natural 20 (OC insert, D&D inspired, shameless crack. I mostly enjoy the beginning of this but it makes me laugh enough to recommend.)

A Hairy Business (AU, Harry is a deer, he is literally a deer, that’s it. It’s funny.)

Animus, Anima (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry travels back in time, gets stuck in Tom Riddle’s brain, and it turns out Harry’s responsible for every terrible thing that ever happened. This one was squicky even for me, very well done, but strap in.)

Addendum, He is Also a Liar (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, Tom has an inexplicable ability to travel to the future, but only to this random little girl Hermione Granger)

Framed & Fractured (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry gets stuck in an evil painting back in time. Tom is creepy as usual.)

Trying for Eden (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry travels back in time to lecture Tom into morality. It doesn’t work.)

Magical Mirrors (Luna Lovegood and Severus Snape, Luna and Snape stumble on the Mirror of Erised at the same time and strike up a conversation)

Aphelion (Hermione Granger/Loki, MCU crossover, Hermione and Loki strike up the world’s weirdest toxic friendship when Hermione’s young and attending Hogwarts, this leads terrible places as Loki slides into madness and despair)

Wandering Souls (Luna Lovegood and The Undertaker, Black Butler crossover, Luna meets and strikes up a conversation with the Undertaker)

Of Lies Most Beautiful (Tom Riddle, Hunger Games crossover, Tom wins the Hunger Games becaues that’s what he does bitch)

In Wonderland (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry ends up back in the past and decides to raise Tom Riddle. This goes so poorly that the pair almost get eaten by eldritch gods multiple times.)

Rumpelstiltskin, Guess My Name (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Female Harry travels back in time and offers to save Merope’s life/get her Tom Riddle Sr. the non rapey way in return for her firstborn son. Merope thought Harry was joking. She wasn’t joking. In the sequel, also linked, Harry kills Morfin.)

The Eyes (Harry Potter, AU, turns out “the power he knows not” is the power humanity knows not, Harry’s ability to see eldritch abominations and cosmic gods and thus bring them far enough into our reality that they eat everything. And I mean everything.)

Mirror Mirror (Harry Potter, MCU crossover, Harry makes a huge mistake and stops Hulk in the middle of a rampage. This gets him abducted by octopus nazis.)

I See the Moon (Harry Potter and Bruce Banner, MCU crossover, Harry got brain damage from the war and wanders around the middle of nowhere. He runs into Bruce. He’s now Bruce’s only friend.)

You Will Be the Death of Me (Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, Despicable Me inspired, through a series of convoluted events Tom as the world’s worst father figure ends up raising Harry the sad adorable orphan.)

In Death, Standby (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter (sort of, the authro claims), Tom raises Harry, the only Tom raises Harry that I’ve seen done well because Tom is the world’s worst father. Harry thinks he’s a deformed snake until the age of three.)

Little Harry’s Mirkwood Adventure (Harry Potter and Dudley Dursley, Hobbit Crossover, one of the most Tolkien style crossovers I’ve actually seen and is very good)

A (Self-Imposed) Trap for a Fool (Ginny Weasley, turns out Harry Potter never existed, as in he’s a collective hallucination made up by the entire wizarding world)

McLaggen and From McLaggen with Love (McLaggen, a detective AU then a James Bond style adventure starring McLaggen, the greatest wizard who ever wizarded)

Tom Riddle’s Diary: on keeping devils in the summer (Tom Riddle, Tom Riddle’s antichrist orphan adventures involving exorcism and burning people alive)

and the fates sing (hold on, son) (Harry Potter, MCU crossover, Harry is the son of Loki and like all children of Loki he is a wretched and cursed thing)

A Faulty Master (Harry Potter and Itachi Uchiha, Naruto crossover, Itachi after the massacre of his family has a run in with a master of death Harry, who is a creepy creepy man)

Eye of Reason (Harry Potter/Jack Frost, Rise of the Guardians crossover, due to the mythos surrounding his life Harry ceases to be a man and becomes akin to a god)

Flowers for a Ghost (Luna Lovegood and Itachi Uchiha, Naruto Crossover, Luna befriends a blind ghost)

Third Time’s the Charm (Harry Potter, MCU crossover, Bruce Banner keeps trying to kill himself and MoD Harry is there to have himself a real good day)

Blind Faith (Bellatrix LeStrange/Tom Riddle, canon compliant, an in depth look at Bellatrix from the escape of Azkaban onward)

Cocktail Time (Rita Skeeter and Gilderoy Lockhart, Rita does an expose and autobiography detailing the descent of Gilderoy Lockhart and how he became what he became)

Fantastic Elves and Where to Find Them (Harry Potter, canon divergent AU, Harry thinks he’s an elf. That’s it.)

The Twine Bracelet (Colin Creevy, a look at Colin’s death)

Legal Alien (Harry Potter, MCU crossover, Harry visits New York and an alien invasion breaks out. Culminates with the best, dumb, joke.)

The Root of Desire (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, Hermione travels back in time and tries to influence Tom. All this does is inspire his sexual awakening.)

Deadheads (Harry Potter/Godric Gryffindor, a romantic comedy of a kind, culminating in the best dumbest joke)

Give and Take (Tom Riddle/Hermione Granger, Hermione tries to outwit Tom, it ends in despair)

The Road to Somewhere (Harry Potter, Spirited Away crossover, Harry as MoD is in the realm of the spirits)

Absolute (Harry Potter, Harry picks up a death note, he kills everyone)

Fortunate Son (Dudley Dursleys, years afterwards Dudley looks back and writes a memoir and expose about the abuse inflicted on his cousin)

Elective Affinities (Severus Snape/Harry Potter, Harry travels back in time to discover his parents are assholes and things are more complicated than he imagined)

Juxtaposed (Bod, Graveyard Book crossover, Bod attends Hogwarts)

The Fire Omens (Tom Riddle and a look at WWII)

Broken Toys (Tom Riddle and his useless broken toys)

The Fine Art of Poisoning (Madame Zabini)

A Marriage of Convenience (Pansy and Theo get married)

Reparabilis (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Tom becomes a professor, he still destroys Harry Potter)

The Unforgivable Curses (Draco Malfoy, a look at the 4th year unforgivable lecture with Moody and the Slytherins)

Ugly (Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy one sided Dudley/Harry Potter, Dudley’s fat, ugly, and creeps on his cousin)

Three Can Keep a Secret (Harry Potter, on secrets and secret keeping)

Caveat Incimici (Hermione Granger, on Hermione and her terrifying wrath)

Babylon (Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, Harry never gets rid of Tom)

Wonderful Tragic Mysterious (Luna Lovegood and Albus Dumbledore, Luna Lovegood time travels and becomes a young Albus’ neighbor)

In the Clockface, Weighted and Weary (Harry Potter/Ariana Dumbledore, Harry after DH ends up back in time in Dumbledore’s childhood and witnesses the beautiful Dumbledore family dysfunction)

Eternal Return (Harry Potter and Tom Riddle, Harry is reincarnated as Tom Riddle and as a result becomes Voldemort so that a Voldemort exists)

Like Pale Fire (Harry Potter/Godric Gryffindor, the Founders are resurrected and it turns out Harry had travelled to the past and become Salazar Slytherin, turns out the Founders were more complicated than people expected.)

12 Moves Sideways (Harry Potter and Light Yagami, Death Note crossover, Light becomes the Defense Professor, for once Harry does not figure out the mystery.)

A Very Young Girl’s Record of Her Own Impressions (Ariana Dumbledore’s diary)

Night Comes Early (Moody on war)

Little Witches (The Black family women and how it all falls apart)

Paved with Good Intentions (Petunia on finding a baby on her doorstep)

Emerald Serpent for Vanity (Draco and Nagini introspective)

Blue (Tom Riddle/Bellatrix LeStrange, Voldemort wins dystopia, Tom visits Bellatrix’s grave and is very crazy)

Eighteen (Hermione Granger, on Hermione’s betrayal of her parents)

Ouroboros (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, on what they’ve made of each other)

Not so Different (Scout, To Kill a Mockingbird Crossover, Scout reflects on the wizarding world’s raicsm)

Traitor (Hermione Granger, Hermione is captured by the Death Eaters and commits unspeakable acts to free herself)

Smashing Mirrors (Tom Riddle, introspective)

Twelve Dark Moons (Luna Lovegood/Tom Riddle, Luna becomes a captive of the dark lord)

Full Circle (Harry Potter, Harry wins and is miserable)

The Web of a Thousand Spiders (Luna Lovegood on the diary)

The Metronome (The fall of Lucius’ entire generation)

Understand (Hermione Granger and her betrayal of her parents)

Tea with the Headmaster (Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore, the pair have tea)

This Grief Feeling (Hermione Granger and Severus Snape after the end)

After Innocence (The trio after the end)

Of Great Turmoil and Excess Stupidity (Sesshomaru and Hagrid, Inuyasha crossover, Hagrid decides to capture a demon for class)

What’s Left of Hope (Severus Snape and Albus Dumbledore, on preserving hope)

In His Keep (Severus Snape and Luna Lovegood, Snape informs Luna her father has died)

Wednesday (Petunia Evans, introspective)

In the Presence of Angels (Moody in WWII)

What He Grows to Be (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry Potter raises Tom Riddle in the past and it goes horribly wrong)

Being Cassandra (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry Potter, Tom, and their strange AU friendship)

The Girl (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, a fem Harry Potter keeps accidentally appearing in Tom’s childhood)

Corruption (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Tom wins AU and female Harry slowly becomes corrupted)

One Night Stand (Tom Riddle/Lily Evans, a wonderful look on the first war, Tom Riddle, Lily Evans, the Order of the Phoenix, and terrorism)

The Voldemort Principle (Severus Snape, turns out Snape was Voldemort the whole time and Harry is a lying liar who lies)

Harry Potter and the mountain of pure diamond (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Harry has become an ageless god who travels worlds and decides to raise Tom Riddle. He’s disturbed when he realizes Tom is more of a person than he is)

A Road Less Travelled By (Harry Potter/Lucius Malfoy, Harry’s a veela, just read it, it’s amazing, I know I sound crazy but it is)

Transformation (Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy, Draco gets eaten by the Forbidden Forest and then Harry gets eaten too)

Rock Bottom (Tom Riddle/Harry Potter, Tom gets trapped being defense professor and has a miserable time)

#ask #anon #harry potter #recommendations

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unbelievableholland · 4 years

Note

Hi!!! Congrats on 117 followers aahhh you so deserve it! May I please request prompts 16,42, and 45 with Peter Parker or Tom Holland? Thank you so so much - 💕💕

Far From Home

Pairing: Peter Parker x MJ, Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Injuries, angst.

Words: 2,290

Summary: During your European trip, you and Peter drift apart.

A/N: I’M SORRY THIS TOOK WAY TOO LONG, and I dunno if this was what you had in mind😅 I went through MAJOR writer’s block, but I powered through it and made this. I got a little carried away, and yeah it might be a 2 or 3 part mini series.

Prompts:

16. “Am I really that bad?”

42. “Making you fall in love with me was never my intention”

45. “I’m fine, really. I always knew he wasn’t the one. I guess you can say he’s just my almost.”

——————————————————————

“Ned! We’re clear on the plan, right?”

You and Ned were talking when Peter interrupted you, bouncing with enthusiasm. Ned looked at you with sorrowful eyes before looking at Peter, masking his previous expression with an emotion almost as enthusiastic as Peter.

“Uh, pshh yeah duh. Don’t be too obvious about it though. You were literally shouting.”

Peter rubs the back of his head with his right hand, looking around to see if anybody heard. He’s giggling nervously and you can’t help but adore him for it, he’s just so cute. Gosh, this boy will be the end of you.

“Okay, okay, I’ll keep it down. Sorry to interrupt you guys. I’ll head to my class. See you later!” After he did his handshake with Ned, he left to go to his class since he doesn’t have Biology with you and Ned.

Ned looks back at you. You both didn’t miss the fact that Peter barely paid attention to you before he left. You understand it though, he’s excited for his plan to get MJ. He’s giddy.

“Ned, stop it. I don’t like it when you pity me.”

“Yeah, but I can’t help it. Probably all of Midtown expected the two of you to get together. Hell— I thought you’d end up together! I was really rooting for it.”

You see, Peter and you used to be inseparable. You had nicknames for each other, he used to put his arm around you and around your waist all the time. He even used to kiss your cheek from time to time. Used to.

Those didn’t happen anymore though. He used to flirt— apparently unintentional though— with you all the time. Everyone thought so, but again, those don’t happen anymore. Especially with MJ in the picture.

You just accepted it. Even if you’ve been practically in love with Peter since freshman year.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, really. I always knew he wasn’t the one. I guess you can just say he’s my almost.”

“Almost?”

“Yeah. Almost. I know that we weren’t ever together, but you know” You shrug it off, wiping your eyes before the tears could fall.

You couldn’t explain it properly, but yeah. You know there was something between you and Peter, but maybe there wasn’t? Maybe there almost was?

Damn mixed signals.

Ned just shakes his head and sits back in his chair as the teacher enters the classroom to begin the lecture.

When they told you you’d be going to have a European trip, you didn’t want to go. As much as you want to explore the rich culture and art of Europe, you’d rather stay home. Just because of Peter’s plan. You know he’d never stop talking about it.

But when Peter begged you to come, begged you to join him and Ned on the trip. How could you say no?

It’s not like you have anything against Michelle. You actually think she’s a cool girl. Smart as well.

She’s not like Peter, and that’s what makes them good together. Opposites attract. Right?

On the day of the trip, you’re pretty early, so you got first in line to enter the plane. Mostly because you’re trying to avoid Peter though.

On the plane, you picked a random seat around the middle and picked the one beside the window so you could look outside. You’ve never been on a plane before, so you’re pretty anxious, but you still want to see the view outside.

Your plan on avoiding Peter has worked pretty well so far. You half expected him and Ned to find you, and you expected at least Ned to be the one to sit next to you.

Instead, when you feel someone shuffling beside you, it’s not either of them.

It’s Flash.

He sees you, and instead of leaving or saying something rude to make fun of you, he smiles. A genuine, happy-to-see-you smile.

The happy vibes radiating off of him influenced your mood, so you smiled back as he moved to sit on the seat next to you. You didn’t say anything though and you turn your head to the window once again.

It weirds you out a bit that Flash just smiled at you instead of being rude. Of course, he had never been mean to you. Only Peter, and that in and of itself resulted in you not wanting to talk to him.

Maybe he wasn’t who you thought he was.

You shake the thoughts out of your head because he’s bullied Peter enough. He doesn’t seem nice. Not to you at least.

But, you’re open minded to the thought of befriending him. At least during the trip. You don’t want to be alone and you don’t want to have bad blood with him if he’s going to be sitting next to you.

Since the moment you’ve been in your head though, you have been unconsciously staring at Peter that has been in his seat for about 5 minutes now.

“You know, if you really like Parker that much, you should tell him”

You flinch when Flash leans a little closer to you and whispers. You heart beat calming down after a few seconds.

“I don’t— what are you talk— ok, fine. I do like him, but he doesn’t like me. End of story.”

“He did. If it wasn’t obvious enough, he did. Now, he likes MJ. What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing, and, you never got confirmation that he liked me so…”

“Okay then, if you’re not going to do anything, who are you going to be with for the trip? It looks like you’ve been avoiding him judging from the fact that you chose to sit alone, and Ned looks like he’s getting along fine with Betty over there.” He snickers, as he points to Ned and Betty next to each other, giggling like children in a candy store.

Peter on the other hand, ended up next to Mr. Harrington due to his failed attempts at trying to get seated next to MJ.

“I dunno. I’ll probably spend it alone. It’s not like I have any other friends.”

“Hmm, well, I guess I can make an exception”

“What?”

“You can hang with me for the duration of the trip”

Your eyes widen and your back straightens in shock. Did— did Flash just offer to hang out with you? It might be a bit weird, but you like the idea. You like the idea of enjoying the trip with someone else, at least.

“I… I’d like that, actually.”

“Then it’s a deal.”

He smiles once again at you and leans back on his chair, putting on his headphones and closing his eyes to try and get some sleep.

Once you arrive in Venice, you pick up your bags and of course, follow Flash. Peter and Ned on the other hand, stared in shock when you went passed them to go to Flash in front of the boat for the canals.

You’re talking and laughing with him. They didn’t ever think you’d be friends with Flash. Ever. You always talked about how he annoyed you, how he was such a prick.

Peter steps forward, moving to keep you away from Flash in fear that he might do something to prank you or hurt you, but before he could, Ned stopped him.

“Peter, come on. She looks like she’s having fun. Let her have fun.”

“But it’s Flash! You know we can’t trust him!”

Peter whisper shouted. He always felt protective of you. He always did, and will continue to be.

“Yes, I don’t trust him, but I trust Y/N, and I know you do too. She’s not yours Pete. You have to let her live her life”

With a huff, Peter finds a seat on the boat and watches you interact with Flash, unintentionally sending a death glare at the two of you.

This went on for the rest of the trip. Even when Peter’s fighting the water monster, he takes a second to spare a glance at you to see if you’re ok. For some reason, he felt…something when he saw Flash next to you with his hand holding yours while both of you are running away.

He forgets about it though. Especially when Nick Fury and Mysterio came along.

When you made it to Prague, you actually thought back about the things that have happened, and it’s crazy.

First, you actually enjoyed your time with Flash. Second, everything that involved Mysterio and your trip. You know something’s up, and you want to find out what it is.

So, the night Mr. Harrington forced you to watch the opera, you snuck out. Knowing full well that Peter snuck out as well.

Things get even crazier. You see Peter, in an all-black suit, but you only realized that it was him when you saw the web.

That’s definitely Peter.

You had gone to the ferris wheel since you saw Ned and Betty there, but before you could even go near it, a lava monster appears. While you know there most likely is a name for these things, you’re too busy trying to run away to think about it.

Running to the opposite direction, you bump into someone, both of you falling down in the process. You quickly apologize without looking at him and continue to run.

Although, you definitely should have looked at him, because during the fall, he quickly attached a tracking device on the bottom of your shoe. Tiny enough that it wouldn’t be recognizable.

Out of breath, you stop in a random alley where you see Peter. Your breath hitching when you notice that he had noticed you too.

“Uh…hey Y/N! I-uh,I can explain I—”

“Cut the crap I know you’re Spider-Man.”

“What! What are you—”

“Pete”

With a sigh, he was about to speak, until he noticed something on your arm.

“Y/N! Your bleeding!”

“What? No I'm—”

You look down on your arm where he had his eyes on, and yes, you are in fact, bleeding. You just assume that it’s from the debris earlier that was flying everywhere.

Peter is examining your arm like a mad man though. When you notice that he’s holding you, you yank your arm away from him.

“Peter I’m fine.”

“No you’re not! Why won’t you let me help you??”

He’s still trying to get your arm to see if it’s still bleeding—which it is— but you keep backing away from him.

“Y/N, let me help.”

“No.”

“Why?! Why are you backing away? You know what, why are you even avoiding me? And why Flash?” Yes, the question seems random, but he has to ask. He’s been thinking about it since the first day of the trip.

You don’t answer, the floor suddenly being a source of interest.

“Why!?! Why Y/N!? Why d—”

“Because I love you! I’ve loved you for a really long time but you never even liked me back. I didn’t mean to avoid you, we just grew apart when you suddenly kept hanging out with Michelle, and-and Flash? He’s actually a really really nice guy. To me, at least. A-and I know it’s my fault I fell for you b-but there was something, right? I mean, you kissed me on the cheek, you wrapped your arms around my waist and everything! Everyone thought we were together!”

Out of breath, your chest heaving and you have tears in your eyes threatening to fall. You look like a mess, but Peter could care less what you look right now. He didn’t known you thought that way and he feels horrible that he had done this to you.

“I’m sorry—”

“I-I don’t need your sympathy Peter. I get enough of that from Ned.

“Ned knows?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you too, Y/N b—”

“but not in the way I love you. Yeah, I know.”

“Making you fall in love with me was never my intention.”

Peter didn’t know what else to say except that he’s sorry. He feels a little betrayed by Ned that he didn’t tell him, but he understands. Ned’s you friend as well, and he isn’t obligated to tell Peter everything.

You begin to walk away slowly, trying to get out of the situation to go wallow in your own sadness, but not before turning around to face in one more time.

“I have a question. You don’t need to answer, but it’s really been bothering me ever since MJ.”

He looks at you expectantly. Hoping that you’d stay a little bit more.

“Am I really that bad?”

Peter’s a bit taken aback by your question. How could you even think that? To Peter, you’re perfect.

“What— No! How could you think that??”

“Because you chose her.”

He has to admit, there was something between the both of you. He wouldn’t have been acting so intimate with you if there wasn’t.

“There- there was something between us. I didn’t know what is was and I still don’t. I have to admit that, but I guess MJ… Y/N, your perfect. You are, but—”

“But not as perfect as her”

“I didn’t say that—”

“You didn’t have to”

“Will you just let me finish!”

Just then, your phone rings. You check your phone, and you have about 28 texts and 5 missed calls from Flash and 15 missed calls and 35 texts from Ned. You assume they’re looking for you.

Saved by the bell, you think.

“I-I have to go. They’re probably looking for me.”

Before Peter could even speak, you run away to the direction of the hotel. Clutching your arm to help stop the bleeding.

Still, oblivious to the small device under your shoe.

——————————————————————

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thebgcharacter · 3 years

Text

Storm Bringer spoilers and a lot of fancy cursing!! I will be screaming into the void about Rimbaud and Verlaine. Just... them. Either them separately or them together, idk where this rant is going-

I want to say I hate Verlaine but come on- he’s been painted the bad guy all throughout and in some okay a lot of ways, he is but DAMN IT I CAN’T HATE HIM. It’s the same with Dazai- he’s just morally grey, at least to me, announcing he’s there to save Chuuya, proceeding to kill Chuuya’s friends, then we get this flashback with him and Rimbaud with him trying to convince Rimbaud that they should let the kid- referring to Chuuya- live in a farm instead of let him be self aware of his own upbringing.

HOW in the flaming depths of hell, blinding lights of heaven and dark pits of everything in-between CAN I HATE HIM FOR THAT?

Head’s up to anyone who does read this, I’m not trying to convince you to un-hate/ un-dislike him for me, I’m just saying AAAAAAAAAAA he’s such a good character, coming from a writing perspective, and in a lot of ways he reminds me of Dazai. His whole extremely self-aware, not really feeling out of place but still so, so isolated, thing going on for him. Plus the wanting to protect Chuuya’s humanity, a goal they both share. I’m just- frustrated.

HE DID NOT DESERVE THAT holy Arahabaki, if anything I’m furious at N, and I will gladly let Guivre and Arahabaki burn the living shit out of him but sadly that’s not what happened.

BACK TO THE MAIN MEN OF MY RANT, Verlaine and Rimbaud.

First off, let me applaud Asagiri for making these partner pairings because damnit my mentally ill brain can’t help but ship them and shipping also means getting my rightful doses of happy hormones because damnit(2) I don’t have the luxury to feel those often.

So Rimbaud, I didn’t like him. I’ll be honest about that. Anyone who wants to harm Chuuya, I decided on my first watch of BSD, is not getting my approval, but I think I dug into it too much and now I can’t not like him too, which explains my use of past tense lmao. This opinion was influenced by fandom, I’m a very gullible and easy-to-convince person, and official art did not help. I love/hate how Rimbaud could have been to Chuuya what Mori is to Dazai. The aesthetic does not negate the toxicity of the relationship, but will my brain see it for what it really is instead of picking apart the concepts I love? No.

Getting sidetracked is my specialty lmao I know so moving on- it’s kind of heartbreaking to know how Rimbaud was the only one to ground Verlaine, to make him feel human even though Verlaine rejected his advances or faced them with nothing but blankness. The spell, the hat, the reassurance that Verlaine was already human. It just- oh gods, it hit a bit too close to home.

Verlaine on the other hand, I knew I’d like just from sheer instinct. The concept of him being Chuuya’s brother, of being a fellow otherworldly entity, those were enough to keep me reeling and rooting for him. That doesn’t excuse his barbaric excuses, leaving corpses in his wake, those of Chuuya’s offish affection no less. But those do make his character all the more easy to hate, all the more reason to make him, as a whole, a great character.

You might ask, “Hana, how does that make him a great character?”, well, dear reader, it's already in the core of how he was written.

If I remember correctly, after Germany got a hold that ability singularities can reside in a single vessel instead of two, France took the lead with the experiments and got Verlaine out of it. Ability singularities are all about having two opposing powers combining and coexisting in one another to come to be, and since Verlaine is the perfect outcome of France’s experiments, it goes to show that he is a singularity.

He exists with opposing ideas, contradictory actions, it makes him a complex character because that’s exactly how complex characters are written, and he’s characterized in a way that shows he thinks his actions are correct.

I don’t know, I’m just eyeballing, coming from someone who cannot take the hint and has to shake their skull to understand subtext, but that’s how I see him.

Okay so the point of this whole thing is to... just let out my anger because 1) Rimbaud could’ve been a really good character for Chuuya’s development, 2) I’m pissed we most likely won’t get to see how Rimbaud and Verlaine worked together as partners and 3) they’re both dead.

I think I’ve said this already but kudos to Asagiri for making it so damn easy to ship the partners of Bungo Stray Dogs. Like, for real, I cannot stop thinking about the hefty assortment of dynamics that all have the same component of having one or both parties involved in wanting to kill the other, simply either for the sake of; for the sake of their own opposing stances, or have already killed the other person!

Let me side track for a bit lmao, so Zenki Soukoku tried to kill each other because of Yosano, because Mori's plan "lacked heart" and Fukuzawa "forgot there's no room for heart in times of war". Soukoku has Dazai wanting to kill himself and Chuuya wanting to kill him just because. Shin Soukoku literally have a vow to fight each other to death. In Fyolai, Nikolai wants to kill Fyodor and Fyodor's probably got that laid out in his plan. Poe spent actual years trying to perfect a story that'll trap Ranpo forever, which is the equivalent to a rather poetic and macabre death in a literal book. OGURI SUCCEEDED IN KILLING YOKOMIZO. I'm willing to bet Natsume had some sort of friend/rival like that as well but they're already dead in the timeline (I'll die on this hill, yes).

Three points should be taken from this.

I should never be allowed to write abt just one thing, no we're taking everything down with us

Asagiri is a damn good writer.

I love Paul x Verlaine, among a shit ton of other partners in this franchise.

Thank you and goodbye ❣️

#bsd #rants #storm bringer #verlaine #rimbaud

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leapyearkisses · 3 years

Note

For the director’s cut: Orbs Are Bad News, please? Part 2 (or both, if you’re willing!) It’s one of my favorites 💗

One of my favorites, too! Thanks for the ask! :D I'll do both parts, with Part 2 to follow this a bit later.

Director's cut comments in bold below the cut! MESS, m/m, holding a handkerchief, etc.

This story came from a prompt on a writing meme about a character losing the use of their hands while having to deal with snz. I can't remember at the moment if the prompt was D&D-flavored or if I just picked that setting myself because I was really into playing the game at the time (still am!). Also I'm incredibly sleep-deprived, so I hope these comments don't ramble overmuch.

"Okay, we don't know what we're dealing with here, so let's be careful." Gerrit pushed open the heavy wooden door and lifted his torch to illuminate the room inside. The firelight played over several tables covered in intriguing objects and glinted teasingly off of more than one hint of gold. Gerrit himself spotted a stolid wooden chest in the corner and his heart rate quickened.

When I was a kid, my mom gave me the Dragonlance books and I fell in love with them, although it was a long time before I was able to play D&D myself. I attribute my love of the very traditional fantasy realm to these books and my enduring love of sickly mages to Raistlin (Soulforge was like an EXPERIENCE for me). Gerrit has his origins in Tanis Half-Elven - he's a good guy, kind of a normal/default fighter build. "Jackpot," breathed Remembrance, the party's resident ne'er-do-well. She rubbed her hands together, sharp nails clicking. Gerrit was sure she was assigning price tags to the lot of it, except for whatever she hid in her bags for herself, of course. "I know a guy in the capitol who'll pay through the nose for that pervy little statue there." "That is a religious object," chastised Cordes with a haughty tsk. "It's used in rituals of worship for the goddess Fortuna." "Oh, I'm sure he'll be worshipping," cackled Remembrance, and she slipped past Gerrit into the vault. "Few hundred gold and he'll be rubbing out a grand ol' prayer." Her pointed tail waved with greedy delight. "Hey! The proper course of action would be to bring it back to a temple!" Cordes went after her, pushing Gerrit aside.

Remembrance and Cordes are here to be the beta couple and provide background color. Their development was based on a few factors: A) a D&D party should have ~4 people with different abilities (fighter, sorcerer, cleric, rogue), B) a priest and a devil is never not a fun/ny dynamic, C) I'm not into F snz but I feel bad that most of my OCs are not women, and D) given that Gerrit is a "default" archetype, there needed to be differing characters to contrast his personality with (or he would seem to have none). Also I like dirty jokes, so Remembrance can be my humorous id for this purpose lol The half-elf grumbled but wasn't surprised. "At least TRY not to touch anything cursed," he called. He'd been the one to organize this little band, but although he was the one who reported to their patron, he had precious little influence over what they did. They were happy to point to him when some upstart had a problem with the party, though. Ingrates. He turned to the last member of the group. "What about you, Llewellyn? I thought I saw some books on the far table." "Lead the way," replied the sorcerer, and his usually mellifluous voice sounded strained. Purple shadowed the hollows under his faintly luminous silver eyes, and he had his nose tucked into his handkerchief again. Gerrit hadn't spent much time around full elves, but he'd always believed they couldn't get sick, at least not like a human or dwarf. Llewellyn had been dragging since Saints' Day, though, and seemed to have come down with a flu. His skin, where visible under his fitted robes, was wan.

Fuck up that slender, haughty elf man is an endlessly running subroutine in my head. "Sure," said Gerrit, and he stepped into the room, holding the door out so that Llewellyn could join him. "You, uh, you don't look like you're feeling any better." "Oh," said the sorcerer, "I'm not. I ran out of tonics." He entered the vault and walked over to one of the tables, investigating a strangely shaped glass bowl. "But as we were already down here, I'm not sure what you want me to say. There's no inn at which I might rest my weary bones." "Cordes could make you an herbal remedy," Gerrit grumped. He went over to the chest he'd seen earlier and smashed the lock off with the pommel of his dagger. He didn't need any fancy lockpicking tools like Remembrance's. And hitting something felt good when his companions were all intent to be annoying, acerbic, or both. "I suppose," Llewellyn replied, sounding uncertain as his voice wavered. Gerrit tried to ignore the way his ears heated at that. That was the tone that overtook the elf when he was preparing to sneeze. It wasn't any of Gerrit's concern. His occasional roll in the hay (literal and figurative) with Llewellyn did not make it easier or more appropriate to acknowledge his odd attractions, especially since they were currently ransacking a dungeon with a priest and a psychopath. He focused his attention on searching the chest, and he was rewarded with a heavy coin purse, a stack of calfskin-bound journals, and a ruby the size of a robin's egg. He whistled.

Gerrit and Llewellyn are the dynamic opposite of Eliseo and Padgett. Gerrit is the less-privileged, more personable, "low class" character and Llewellyn is the high-born, fussier, sarcastic noble; however, in this story Gerrit is the voyeur character with the fetish and the POV window while Llewellyn is tortured for everyone's amusement. Narratively it's more fun and easier for me to describe the non-fetish-having character because I also like the power of the narrator to be that voyeuristic eye. Llewellyn gasped. "Hah- hahttsch-ow!"

I made myself laugh while writing this hahah "'Ow'?" Cordes appeared from behind a bookshelf, one arm wrapped tightly around a thick rug, the other reaching for his pack of salves. "What is it? Cut? Burn?" When Gerrit looked, their sorcerer was rubbing his nose with his left hand. "Bruise," Llewellyn said. He lifted his right hand, in which he held a blue crystal orb that was knotted inside a thin lattice of gold chain. "I got my hand caught." He'd apparently run the thing into his nose when trying to cover his sneeze. Llewellyn's thin face was already dusted pink from the embarrassment. Gerrit couldn't help but laugh. "Very graceful," he chuckled. "I will thank you for keeping it to yourself," Llewellyn replied, and that was elvish dialect for "fuck you." Gerrit laughed again.

Embarrassment is a huge part of my enjoyment of this kink because of the ensuing power dynamics. The victim is thrown into disequilibrium by something (snz) that is inherently seen as socially inappropriate, disgusting, or at least uncomfortable. Almost always their reaction is outsized to what it would probably be outside of a fet context (most people can sneeze in public without feeling shame - which is the typical mode, lol. It's a normal bodily function). However, then the other character, motivated by their BF's anxiety and potential humiliation is prompted to caretake and comfort them, "approve" of the "shameful" act, and deepen the intimacy of the couple. They can also enjoy the embarrassment and the act voyeuristically while feeling their own discomfort about watching, then deal with either having to divulge the kink or be found out by their partner later (because consent is the sexiest thing, really). But I love my characters and I'm not into hardcore stuff so much, so there are almost never any consequences of the "humiliation" - the characters do not get caught out, they do not get shamed by society, they do not actually lose face or have to explain their sexual preferences to anyone who should not know them.

Now you know way too much about my psychology but also the basic formula for any kink story I have written or will write in my entire life. Yay! Cordes had leaned over to see the orb better in the firelight. He was the only one among them whose vision was hindered by the dim light. "What kind of artifact is this?" he asked. "It doesn't resemble anything I've studied."

Lol humans don't have darkvision. "I'm not sure." Llewellyn held it up to the torch. The orb lit up like a lamp, but otherwise nothing happened. "Whatever this chain is, though, it's very prone to tangling." He tried to shake it off his wrist and failed. This was a task for both hands, and he set to freeing himself. And kept trying. And trying. Gerrit frowned. "What are you doing? Cordes, would you get that off of him?" "Sure." The priest reached out to help, but Llewellyn suddenly backed away out of reach. "Uh... I'm not trying to steal it, elf." "Oh, I would let you take it," Llewellyn said, scowling. "But I have a feeling we would be in for some trouble if you touch it now." He held up both hands. His palms were wrapped around the crystal and bound with the ball in that thin gold chain. "I am... I'm stuck."

---

"STUCK," hooted Remembrance again. She was crouched at the entrance to the dungeon - a root-cellar-like set of doors they'd found in a small bandit settlement - and hauling out a heavy pack stuffed with loot. In the daylight, she looked menacing and out of place, her horns, dusky maroon skin tone, and black eyes setting her apart from this land's primarily human residents. "And you even said not to touch any curses!"

Jump cuts are funny! I love this kind of thing, honestly. It's some of my favorite humor - that and dramatic irony, which is also often depicted in visual media with a funny jump cut. "I recall you said so as well," said Cordes, who looked exactly like a run-of-the-mill human resident except for the star-like scar on his left temple. He reached down and grabbed Gerrit's hand, steadying the half-elf as he climbed out of the hole. Llewellyn was hanging uncomfortably on Gerrit's back, arms looped around the other man's neck. They'd tried to find a more dignified way to get him out of the dungeon, but he couldn't manage the ladder well enough without the use of his hands. "The artifact didn't react to my detection spell," sniffed Llewellyn disdainfully, and Gerrit was quick to set him down before that sniffing could become another sneeze. He didn't want to blush in front of the others.

Blushing is very appealing to me, so everyone blushes all of the time. "There must be someone in Veigh who can help you," Gerrit said. "We'll just swing by on our way to the capitol." The city was three days out of their way, but they couldn't have Llewellyn stuck this way for the two week trip back to their patron. With his hands bound, he couldn't cast any spells that required him to gesture, and that was almost all of them. He'd effectively rendered himself completely useless in combat. Veigh had a chapter of the Mages Guild in residence, though, and if no one there could help, they might at least be able to send Llewellyn on ahead via a transportation spell.

Let's go on a short tangent about names. Usually I name my characters using Babynames.com or similar sites and I pick based on the look, sound, and meaning of the names. For this little group, things were slightly more haphazard. Llewellyn is a Welsh name meaning "leader." I just happen to like this name already, but it also has a visual beauty and difficulty to pronounce on sight that lent it well to an elf character without me having to look up specifically elven names. When I make elf characters in D&D, I tend to give them a nickname or alias that is easy to remember and pronounce so that the name isn't a hindrance while playing the game.

Gerrit's name was picked based on sound. It is similar to the Welsh name Gareth ("spear ruler"), which is on purpose, but it was altered to make it a bit more fantastical/removed. It's appropriate for a fighter in meaning but also suits his more familiar/pedestrian half-elven experience vs. that of a noble elf.

Cordes was given a short name because he is a no-nonsense human, but I chose it to resemble that of conquistador Hernan Cortes because of the "holy invasion" and "treasure hunter" associations. Remembrance is named using the PHB's suggestion that tieflings often pick "ideal" names for themselves, and she has a complicated past (like most tieflings). "I will hope there is." Llewellyn looked pale and worn, though his fine features still exuded the otherworldly beauty of the high elves. His hair was a silky black, although mostly covered by his hood, and the contrast made his silver eyes look even more curious. He fumbled for a minute at his waist before scowling heavily. "I can't get into any of my bags, of course..." "What do you need?" asked Gerrit. Remembrance had started off through the trees, humming, her bulging pack swaying with her sinuous movements. Gerrit really didn't want to let her get too far ahead, not least because she was scary good at concealing herself in the foliage and might slip the party completely. However, Cordes was with her, and Llewellyn couldn't exactly fend for himself right now. "My handkerchief..." The elf's voice had gone wavery again, and Gerrit watched as his nostrils flared. Fuck.

Oho! Here is the plot and the kink conceit. Gerrit hurriedly patted his pockets until he produced his own handkerchief, or what he bothered with when necessary. It was a large square of flannel, rough around the edges. It wasn't embroidered or monogrammed like Llewellyn's, but he figured by now the flannel was a hell of a lot cleaner, and it was soft for an irritated nose. "Here, take mine."

Characters' belongings are also a good way to contrast their situations and personalities. I don't consider handkerchiefs particularly vital to my enjoyment of this kink, but they are a useful visual and I like to describe things. Small details like this are how you can worldbuild without having to do too much extra research. Llewellyn held out his hands plus the orb for it, breath hitching, but no matter how Gerrit tried to drape the cloth, it kept slipping off of the artifact. He supposed he could try to tie it around the-

This is just so funny to me XD Llewellyn made a desperate sound and tipped his head back, exposing the long line of his throat. His breath was coming in soft pants now. And he was raising the orb reflexively. Gerrit couldn't let him whack himself in the face again, so he did the only other thing he could think of. With one hand he reached out and took Llewellyn by the shoulder. With the other, he lifted the handkerchief and pressed it over the elf's nose. His fingers settled firmly on either side of Llewellyn's nostrils, and none too soon. After another half-hitch, Llewellyn ducked forward again with a quiet but insistent sneeze. "Happtsch!

One of the most pleasing sneeze sounds, tbh. Gerrit was sure he was beet red. “Bless you,” he mumbled. Through the cloth, Llewelyn’s nose felt hot, and any gentle pressure resulted in a bit of a squish. “Let me just…” "Whh- wait-" Llewellyn leaned into the handkerchief. "I'm nh- I'm not done hhH-" His eyes slipped shut and he gasped again. Gerrit swallowed and tried to ignore the tenting of his breeches. "R-roger that." He could feel Llewellyn's nostrils twitching against his fingers. "Hh...Haah- Hapttschuh! Snrk... Aptschiu!" His body rocked, and he took a half-step forward. Gerrit could hear the thick sound of congestion in the elf's nose as he tried to stave off another sneeze.

The desperation, talking through the sneezing, and congestion are all vital parts of this scenario. Unavoidable embarrassment + disgust factor + need for caretaking/mitigation. "Blow your nose," he said. "It will help." Llewellyn hesitated, but in the end, he had to comply. There was nowhere for the mucus to go except out. He started to blow with a gurgle.

I used to be really against mess, but the taboo/disgust part of the brain turns off psychologically a LOT during arousal and now I really do not find snz interesting without it. Snz without mess isn't embarrassing enough or visually exciting. Gerrit moved the hand from his shoulder to start rubbing Llewellyn's back. The handkerchief and his fingers were rapidly growing damp, but he really didn't mind. "There you go." He held the handkerchief to Llewellyn's nose until the elf moved back on his own. His nose was red and tender looking, and his cheeks were flushed rosy. He didn't seem to want to meet Gerrit's eyes. Gerrit didn't mention it. He didn't really want to look at Llewellyn either right now. It had been a while since the elf had looked so very fuckable.

Potentially due to my propensity to write fanfic about established ships, all of my OCs apparently have a history or mutual attraction out of the gate. On one hand, it's difficult just mechanically to write a scenario about a romantic or sexual encounter without there being chemistry and an excuse for them to already want to rub bits (obviously), especially in short stories, but I also cannot stand the thin veneer of situational causality that underlies porn (to borrow from Cards Against Humanity). If I can't care about my characters' lives outside of the one random fetish scenario, I can't care enough to write about them at all. He put the handkerchief in an easily-accessible outside pocket of his vest. "Ready to go?" Llewellyn coughed lightly. "Yes." "Excellent." Gerrit gestured for Llewellyn to precede him, and the two of them headed out through the trees, following the sounds of Cordes negotiating the underbrush and swearing about it. --- Travel proved easy enough once they made it to the road. They were fortunate not to meet anyone else along the way. The party could handle a group of bandits without their sorcerer, but they had their treasure to worry about, and Remembrance always drew stares, and sometimes aggression, even from normal travelers. Gerrit thought her skills more than made up for the extra negative attention they drew. And anyway, Remembrance was crazy but she wasn't evil. She did better out on the road than in town, but that was probably true of all of them. Llewellyn kept up with her pace, but it was clearly a struggle. He was usually fairly quiet, but he didn't speak at all as they walked, focusing on breathing and not devolving into coughing or more sneezing. There were a few times when Gerrit hastily reached into his pocket, at the ready, but Llewellyn fought back the itch with admirable determination. He kept his nose from running by sniffling heavily, which sounded somewhere between awful and revolting. Cordes commented on it multiple times with disgust, but nothing could be done. Llewellyn held his tongue, and Gerrit was reluctant in this case to offer the handkerchief without being asked.

Cordes is here providing the societal reaction and voice of reason lol, but there still aren't any consequences or shaming from them. I just imagine how fricking uncomfortable it would be if people acknowledged this porn scenario happening in-world and so that is never part of the story development. They found a place to camp about half an hour outside the small village of Tewks. Remembrance cleared out some brush to make a flat area for the bedrolls and then promptly decided she'd rather sleep in a tree with everything she owned. She found a good, solid oak a few yards from the camp and ensconced herself in the crux of its branches. She had a good view of the road in either direction and volunteered to take the second watch in the middle of the night, which was her favorite time. Gerrit agreed to take the first watch as Cordes started to set up his tent. The priest refused to sleep on the ground and always took an extra fifteen minutes to erect a curious one-person canvas canopy. It wasn't even large enough to sit up inside, but whatever. The priest never asked anyone else to haul it along, so Gerrit wouldn't complain.

Remembrance and Cordes are thus handwaved away from the sexual center of the plot and they will neither see nor hear anything they aren't invited to. These arrangements left him and Llewellyn alone together on one side of the fire, and he supposed that was preferable during the orb situation anyway. Llewellyn couldn't handle his own bedroll, help with the fire, or unpack any of their supplies. Gerrit realized he would probably have to help the elf eat, too. And... Well, when he noticed Llewellyn fidgeting uncomfortably, Gerrit took him out into a thicker copse to see to his other needs. They didn't talk about it... Llewellyn could hardly undo his own buttons, though, and it wasn't the first time Gerrit had taken over.

I am very into watersports, so it creeps in, although I don't think there's a friendly community out there for that like there is for snz, so I haven't developed any kind of presence for it. It appeals to me for pretty much all of the same reasons as described above. Maybe someday I will start writing those kinds of stories on this account as well, but I don't know if they would find an audience, so maybe not. By the time the fire was hot enough to cook over, Llewellyn had tucked himself up to sit on a tree stump, exuding an aura of furious self-reproach. Cordes took some jerky into his tiny tent with him - for some reason. Gerrit made up two bowls of pottage and sat himself on the ground at the roots of the stump. He put one bowl on the ground for himself and then held up the other. "Hungry?" "Not particularly," Llewellyn replied, voice blunted with congestion. He coughed. "But you're going to make me eat something, aren't you." "I'd prefer you do it willingly." Gerrit tapped the spoon on the side of the bowl. "Come on. It's hot. You'll feel better." Llewellyn growled in a manner more suited to orcs than elves. "I feel like an invalid." Gerrit sighed. "Well, if it makes you feel better, we can pretend you lost your arms in an owlbear attack very tragically." He could feel Llewellyn's fiery glare on him and smiled a little. "Look, we've all done stupid things while adventuring. I'm sure you remember when I tripped and knocked myself out on that knight's shield during the tournament." "I remember," replied the elf, begrudgingly. "Besides, you're sick on top of the whole orb thing. Maybe your detection spell wasn't sensitive enough. Maybe the thing's not even cursed! Maybe it's supposed to do this, and we just don't know why." "I have a hard time believing that. What possible purpose could this serve?"

Porn! Gerrit shrugged. "Don't ask me. Dad says my mother was a druid, but I haven't got a magical bone in my body." He tilted his head. "We could always try smashing it?" Llewellyn's rejection was forceful. "Do you want to explode?!" Gerrit chuckled. "Not really." Llewellyn sighed. Gerrit held out a spoonful of pottage. Feeding both Llewellyn and himself was a bit difficult, but Gerrit did well enough when he could alternate. It would be better if he could use both hands equally like Cordes, but he couldn't, and so he didn't. He just thought about it wistfully as he worked. Llewellyn ended up eating most of his bowl, then went back to sitting quietly and sniffling. Gerrit finished the rest and put the utensils aside to deal with later. And... Even though Llewellyn hadn't asked, he drew out his handkerchief again.

More caretaking, more intimacy. Gerrit is a kind and loving person even though he's a fighter by trade. "Hey," he began, trying not to sound awkward. "You wanna blow your nose?" No one else was paying attention and Llewellyn didn't need to inhale any more of that crap. The elf gave him a shitty side-eye. "Come on," said Gerrit. "Don't be like this." He patted the ground in front of him encouragingly as if Llewellyn was a recalcitrant cat. "I'm fine," said Llewellyn, and then betrayed himself with a quick breath. "Hah--" "Come on," Gerrit repeated, "before you make a mess."

He is also pretty comfortable talking about a lot of things that people with the fetish have generally admitted difficulty acknowledging. This is because even though he's the one with the fetish in this, he is also the "Padgett" character and practical and not caught up in the anxiety prison. Llewellyn came down off the stump to sit in front of him, legs tucked underneath, and rested the orb on Gerrit's thigh to balance himself. His eyes were pinched with reluctance, but Gerrit could see that the elf's nostrils were already damp. "Hah- hh- hurry," Llewellyn gasped.

People should sit in each other's laps. It's good. Again, Gerrit reached out with the handkerchief, enfolding his companion's nose. He could feel Llewellyn's breath fluttering against his hand through the fabric and hear quite clearly how it kept catching on congestion. "Hah-hngk- Hahgkttscht!" Llewellyn ducked forward with the force of it and Gerrit steadied him with a hand on his hip. "Ngkttsch! Hnggktxch!!"

The sneezes now involve nasal consonants because of congestion. Sometimes people tend to have a certain way their sneezes always sound, and I try to maintain that, but these details are important to show a change in the severity of the cold (and evidence of sniffling for hours). Gerrit bit his lip sharply to keep from saying anything, but his body was singing with arousal. Llewellyn hiccupped a short gasp and Gerrit pulled the handkerchief away to present a clean corner. The current spot had become soaked and silvery. "Bless," he managed after a moment, and he carefully readjusted the cloth. "Are you going to sneeze again?"

Hiccupping is also sexy and cute. Also I spelled that wrong in the original, gdi... Llewellyn nodded, eyes teary with the effort of the first bunch. Gerrit wasn't surprised; the elf had been holding back since they left the dungeon. He couldn't imagine it had been comfortable, but Llewellyn had his pride. He never would let Gerrit give him love bites either. Annnd Gerrit was going to have to stop thinking about that. "Haptsch!" Easier said than done. Really. But Llewellyn's comfort came first.

Voyeur with a heart of gold. "Hahkptsch!" The sorcerer groaned softly. "Hah- hh- Hgnaptscxhx!" Gerrit did his best to assist Llewellyn through the fit. He kept the handkerchief secure, moving it when necessary to keep it dry enough. He steadied the elf when the sneezes bent his body or when he felt faint from lack of breath. He even massaged Llewellyn's nose for him when he was trying to blow it and the congestion was stubbornly refusing to move. By the time he felt finished enough to lean back, Llewellyn was flushed and light-headed, swaying where he sat. Gerrit was sweating and needed a towel. "........Thanks," murmured Llewellyn, eventually.

Sometimes kink authors tend to just write out like twenty sneezes in a row and I hate that, honestly. (No shade - I don't even have an example in mind because I don't read a lot of stories anymore and everyone has their preferences.) I just think that the kink should support the storyline and not the other way around. The story should be enjoyable and sexy but have a narrative structure and coherent rising and falling action. Even if a fit is a sexy scenario (it is), trying to make your eyeballs power through a repetitive series of nonsense syllables is counterproductive and takes the reader out of the story and into the realm of annoyance, which disrupts arousal as well. "Yeah," said Gerrit. "Sure." He swallowed. "Let's wash up." He helped Llewellyn to his feet and they went a little way to a creek (generously; it was little more than a ditch through the woods). Gerrit gently washed Llewellyn's face, careful of his tender eyes and nose, and sent him back to camp to lay down for the night. He lingered at the water's edge to wash the handkerchief and, well, to take other matters in hand.

If ya know what I mean. Llewellyn was completely out when he returned, and Gerrit was grateful. He smoothed the elf's bangs back and then settled beside the fire to take watch. The woods in the dark were full of the sounds of insects and small animals moving in the undergrowth. And Llewellyn snoring and sniffling in his sleep. Safe sounds. Gerrit rested his chin on his hand and looked toward the road. Damn orb. It was going to be a long way to Veigh.

And this was getting long, so this is where I cut it to make part 2, which I will also commentate in a bit (hopefully after a nap =___=). Thanks!

#lyk writes #snz #llewellyn mistwalker #gerrit truestride #gerwellyn #director's cut commentary exercise

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