Tumgik
#(made it with the help of pandora who is a very creative mind)
saintchaser · 2 years
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jilyposting today james whose special interest is quidditch and who knows all about its history, all the techniques and maneuvers and can go on talking about it for ages and he does, and at some point he just. stops. he feels like he's annoyed lily because she hasn't said anything for a while and she just kept on looking at him and he ends up apologizing a billion times because he's annoyed her. and lily cups his face. and looks into his eyes and she says. hey. you're not annoying me. sorry if you felt like it i was just so engulfed in what you were telling me and in parkinson's pincer and in how happy you were while talking i kind of forgot to say anything. and james melts into a puddle right there.
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onskepa · 5 months
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Tirol: A pod
This is a request from @nyx-daughterofchaos98
context: This is a request for Part 2
Tirol in the water hunting with some Metkaiyna (earning their place in the tribe) and finds they can safely use their voice to communicate with the Tulkun. And it’s so similar to being with the pod again Tirol starts crying and the Tulkun and Metkaiyna comfort them.
I hope you and everyone enjoy what I have created~!!
tirol
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It has been 6 months since the sully’s moved to the metkayina clan. And a full 4 months since everyone has been fully accepted and being one with the people. From the lifestyles, the diets, skills, culture, everything. Now it is becoming like a second home. 
And for Tirol? It has become her heaven on Pandora. To thrive and explore the massive reefs, expand on her skills and be as free as her ancestors once were. Oh how it was magical for her. Too good to be real. Yet every day just as the sun peeks through the horizon, she makes the first dive of the day into the water. Letting the cold temperature awaken her, making her realize it was not a dream, it is all real. And it has become a ritual for her. 
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However, time to time does the emotions get the best of tirol. Seeing how the metkayina thrive and move as one with each other. To share, and to communicate, truly like a pod. And with the Tulkun, does she think back to the stories she grew up with. How very similar her people were to the tulkun. 
For all tirol can do is make best of her new home. Thats it while thriving alongside the sullys. Any chore related to going in the water, Tirol will be the first to accept any chore. Gather shells? Only the best, collect seaweeds? The longest ones, the best fish? Only of high quality. 
If it is not chores related, Tirol would just swim around absent mindedly. Or would even play some games with her friends. Anything to keep her mind busy. 
Until the Tulkun came once more, there she had a breaking point.
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Everyone ran to the reef, so many cheers and screams of happiness. Old friends meeting each other, new bonds being formed, and young ones being introduced. It was a reunion to always look forward to. Seeing family, friends again after so long. 
So when Tirol swam around, seeing the tulkuns, she greets them in her vocal range that is similar to their vocals. Matching the same pitch and still learning new ways of communication. While Sign language is easy and better, she can't help but love speaking in the language of the tulkuns. It feels more like her language.Well, what is left of it. 
“Child, I see you have gotten a lot better at speaking like us” Roa spoke to Tirol. And Tirol couldn't help but smile at the praise. 
“Thank you Roa, how are you and your baby? Was the travel safe?” She asks, Roa nods and presents her child who has gotten a lot bigger since the last visit. Roa would never miss proudly showing her baby to anyone when given a chance. 
“Yes, and my darling child has an abundance of energy, swimming long distances isn't enough to calm him. But I must not be negative, I am happy that he is thriving and energetic” Roa continues. And tirol nods in agreement. 
After a sweet goodbye, Roa and her child leave to look for Ronal. 
Seeing the sight gave Tirol a bittersweet feeling, quickly she swam to a more private area of the reef. Perhaps there is still some left in her that must be released. 
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Ronal swam in the darker areas of the reef, collecting a few corals and seaweed as she has a creative idea in mind, But as she swam more near a small cave, she noticed a familiar tail. 
Being careful, she tugs at the end of the fin, a quick retreat reflex was made by tirol. Lifting her head up, Tirol made eye contact with Ronal. Ocean sounds were the only noise that was made for a few seconds. 
“What are you doing down here? Why are you not at the shore with everyone?” Ronal asks. Examining Tirol’s expression, she seems sad, as if she lost something. 
“Is everything alright?” She asks once more. 
Tirol nods and gives half a smile, “Yes I am fine. I just needed a moment to my self that is all. I am fine, really. Thank you for your concern Tsahik” She signs back. Lifting herself from the cave, she comes out. “I will head back now” Tirol informs, saying their goodbyes, Ronal sees Tirol swim away, letting the ocean blur her sight.
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“Would you like to join us on the hunt tirol? We could use your skills, the currents are a bit high today” Ao’nung invites tirol. She was in the middle of doing a chore in the village, keeping herself busy. Perhaps another dive in the water would help. 
“Sure, I like to hunt,” Tirol replies. Meeting at an agreed time, she gets ready with her new spear and a bag sack to carry her kill. 
Wasn't long that she had to wait, meeting ao’nung, tonowari and a few others who welcomed her, they all dived into the water. She noticed a small gathering of reef tick’s, perhaps after the hunt she will catch some. Their meat has a great taste when roasted just right. Even if she gets odd looks, if it is good, then it is good. 
“The tulkun will be joining us in the hunt as well” Tonowari signs to everyone. And on cue, they arrived at the wider areas. Some of the warriors went with their spirit siblings, and whenever she sees warriors move to the tulkuns, it takes every fighting urge to follow. But where or who does she go? She has no spirit sibling. Or anyone really to call family. 
That was the first start of a cracking. 
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“We did it brother!” Ao’nung cheers with his spirit brother, they sing in success. Tonowari and his spirit brother were counting the kills and deciding it was enough for everyone. 
Tirol hates to admit it, but she envies the tulkun, she envies the metkayina. The burning envy that surges in her heart. A burn that won't fade away. To be constantly reminded that she won't have what they have. Even when she was fully welcomed by everyone, the feeling like an outsider won't leave. 
Seeing everyone leave for the shores, she insisted on staying behind. If she leaves up to the shores, everyone will see the tears that are leaving her eyes. 
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“Here, there is plenty tuk” Tsireya smiles as she serves tuk some cooked fish to which tuk accepts happily. Everyone sat together with a fire in the center. The positive energy was at its peak. Well, almost. 
“Has anyone seen tirol?” Kiri asks as she looks everywhere at the crowd. Ao’nung was quick to reply. 
“She joined us on a hunt this afternoon. She was pretty good, getting the big ones all by herself. But when we were done, Tirol stayed. Didn't say much, just that she wanted time for herself” 
Everyone looked at each other in worry. It is not that they didn't notice but, for days the sully kids noticed Tirol wasn't much her chirpy self. Looking at the ocean and had a long absent look into her eyes. More quiet and spending all more time at the sea than on land.  
“Even my mother found her in a little cave at the deeper side of the reef. She thought it was odd but Tirol left after my mother found her” Tsireya informed. 
Before more could be said, a sound was heard. 
A loud, unholy sound was heard everywhere. There was no sense of direction of where it was coming from. Its loud shrieks of pain reached everyone's ears. Many covered them, to block out the loud cries. 
But the cries were too strong, and soon all of those with a soft heart began to cry. Tuk, tsireya and kiri were the first to shed tears. Their wails harmonize with the loud cries. They couldn't stop no matter how hard they tried. The boys did their best, but rotxo too gave in and began to cry like never before. 
Tonowari and Ronal were looking at the phenomena that was taking over their people. Many begged for it to stop. Many can't even form words. The cries of the unknown source was just too powerful. 
Far beyond the shores, tonowari noticed the odd behavior of the tulkuns. Fins were swaying, many were jumping and landing roughly in the waters. Whatever it is, it is in the water disturbing every life around. 
Those who havent shed tears yet joining tonowari and ronal into the waters, and stop the cries. 
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The tulkun were swimming in a spiral manner, circling something in the center. However, underwater, was just as bad as above. The tulkuns cried as though they lost someone. The deep pain and suffering, cries from the deepest parts of the heart. 
“Sister! Sister, what is happening!?” Ronal asks as soon as she caught the fin of Roa, catching a ride. Roa’s eyes meter hers, red and glazed looking. 
“The girl ronal! She is hurt! Her pain has become our pain, we can't stop!” 
Trying to see who was hurt, Ronal took the risk of letting go of roa and swim to the center, And to her shock, it was Tirol. The girl was crying so loud, her voice reached high notes, it was unbelievable. But even more unbelievable is how a sweet girl had the power to bring others into tears as well. 
“Tonowari! It is tirol! She is behind this!!” Ronal signs but Tonowari couldn't read it as the tulkuns were in the way. Seeing as how it won't do much, Ronal takes it upon herself, she swims further down to where the siren was at. But the closer she got, the louder the cries, and the more powerful her voice was. 
So powerful, it was making Ronal weak, she can't see but she can feel the tears escape. Her heart weighed more than normal, her mind hazy. Using all her strength, she roughly grabs triol’s shoulders, making her turn to face ronal. 
Opening her eyes, Tirol saw Ronal and gasped. Her cries stop, but for a moment. And that moment was vital, as the tulkuns stopped moving in a spiral manner. Many of the metkayina swam to their siblings, making sure they were ok. 
Tirol seeing the consequences of her meltdown, she hung her head low. Shame filling her mind. 
“To the shores, now” Ronal signs. 
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“Im so so sorry, I didn't mean to cause such havoc on everyone” Tirol apologies for the millionths time. Everyone gathered around her. Tsireya, ao’nung, rotxo and the sully kids found tirol and other members sitting near a rock bedding, Joining them to learn what happened. 
The tulkun near by to see and hear for themselves.
Tirol kept her head low, unable to face everyone after what she did. 
“Your voice…..it sounded as though you were in great pain. I never heard anything like that. It made everyone cry like no other” Tonowari says gently. The poor girl was shaken and didn't want to cause any more distress. 
“My voice is powerful…but so are my emotions. It is a terrible combination to have. Yet, I let it control me” Tirol whispered. 
Gently placing her arm over Tirol’s shoulder, Ronal had to ask, “What happened Tirol?”. 
“You have been odd these past few days” Neteyam adds. 
“You looked more sad, and quiet. I missed playing with you” Tuk sads with a sad face. 
“Is there something going on that no one knows? You can tell us' ' Tsireya encourages. 
Taking a deep sigh, Tirol confesses. 
“I began to feel….sad, lonely, and not very much myself ever since the tulkun arrived. I saw how they are like. The tulkuns care for one another, move as one and become so unified that it makes me happy to see it. But also, when you all reunite with them, you are all one big family. A community, a pod”. 
Blinking to hold back the tears, she continues. 
“I never had that. From the stories I was told, my people, my ancestors were very much like the tulkun. Traveling together, living together, being close. Sharing a culture and traditions. To meet other clans and family. And I can't help but imagine…!!” Tirol chokes on her words, more tears escaping her eyes. Kiri gently rubbing her back, adding comfort to her despair. 
“But imagine what that would have been like with my kind. What my life would have been like if there was another siren. To know I am the only siren on Pandora, it is lonely. There is no other like me. That I will never have my own pod. My own place to truly belong” 
Tirol lifts her head up, facing the reef na’vi. 
“I am forever grateful you all accepted me. Welcome to me and my friends. I have never been more in touch with the water than I have while living here. In these waters has been more like home. But it is never home. All I have left of my kind are stories that will one day be forgotten. And yet….how…how can I miss something that I never had…?” 
Tirol’s words touched many. More tears were spilled, and many more now understand what she was going through. 
“Oh tirol…we understand how you feel. Despite all that you have and more, your inner nature could never be fulfilled” Ronal says. She can't help but feel sorry for the young girl. No one has to go through this emotional torture. 
“But you do belong here. The ocean is your home, your calling. You are one of us” Tonowari adds in. 
Everyone says their heartfelt words to tirol. And each one helped her feel better. Wiping away her tears, she smiles. But the tulkuns have something else to say. 
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“You have everything? You knife, food, spear, extra clothing-” 
“Yes Jake, I have everything” Tirol kindly interrupted her father figure. There were smiles all around her, many in happiness, and many in sadness. Like tuk. 
“I will miss you so much! Don't forget me or any of us!” Tuk says as she hugs tirol tightly. Giggling a bit, she pats the childs head. 
“I could never forget you, not you or anyone. And besides, I will come back. And with so many stories to tell” Tirol replies. 
She hugged all of her friends as they cries, wishing her a good farewell. 
“It is time,” Ronal announces. 
Taking a deep breath, and one last look at her beloved ones, Tirol heads to the shallow waters. 
“We will come back as always!” With a bright smile, she dives into the water, letting her legs become her beautiful tail. 
The tulkun were waiting for her. Positioning herself in the middle of the herd, they all began to swim, heading out to the open sea. Full of unknown places, and more adventures. 
Roa staying close to tirol she asks, “are you scared?” 
With a confident smile, she answers “no, this is what I needed. This is what I longed for, no backing out now”. 
Yes, it was a hard choice, but a good one. Leaving the clan, her friends, all that she knew to join the tulkuns and their long travels. This was it. What she longed for as come true, Tirol has found her pod. 
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Aaaaaaand that is all for this one! I kinda got carried away. But I hope everyone likes it! Until next time! see ya!
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teaforthotxxx · 9 months
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My Slytherin Skittles Post-Hogwarts Career HC:
(Slytherin Edition) (Gryffindor Edition)
Regulus Black-Potter was a spy for the order during the war. While he did get the dark mark due to his parents’ insistence, he quickly swapped sides when he realised that what Voldemort was trying to do. He was integral in discovering the horocruxes and tracked them down one by one with the help of Barty Crouch Jr., Evan Rosier, Dorcas Meadows and Pandora Lovegood (nee Rosier). While undercover, he was made by Peter Pettigrew who then proceeded to blab to the rest of the marauders about how Sirius’ long lost brother was on their side of the war. This greatly annoyed Regulus but it did help him rekindle his relationship with both his brother and James Potter, who publicly declared they were going to get married after the war. Once the death eaters were rounded up, Reg was offered a position as a potions master and NEWTS-level potions professor at Hogwarts. This was Dumbledore’s way of thanking him for his part during the war. He is notoriously strict with his students and as the Head of Slytherin House (a position he covets), he does not accept any form of blood discrimination. He has also started to rebuild the Black name, reinstating Sirius as the heir and helping with Grimmauld house’s refurnishing. He is currently furthering a movement against indentured house elves.
Barty Crouch Jr. always had a flair for the dramatics. Back in the war, he was known to use polyjuice to transform into others. This ability was what allowed Regulus and Evan to keep their cover while horocrux hunting. After the war, he channelled this ability into his one-man theatre (a production fully funded by his boyfriend sugar daddy Evan Rosier. He has rows of poly juice (bought at a discounted price from Hogwart’s resident potions master). Currently, he is very interested in introducing more muggle plays to the wizarding world.
Evan Rosier didn’t expect to become the sole proprietor of the Rosier vault after most of his family was sentenced to Azkhaban. He was truly at a loss for what to do especially because he didn’t have a cause he was truly passionate about like Reg and he didn’t really have any children he could splurge on like the Potter-Blacks. Luckily, his twin sister Pandora (who had been long dismissed by their family because of her gender and disposition) had a baby! So, he decided to reinstate Pandora and split the vault with her. After that, he decided to invest in Barty’s theatre endeavour (really, he had a hard time denying Barty anything). He is currently Barty’s manager, running the books for Barty’s every creative whim.
As the only skittles to enter the Order, Dorcas Meadows spent most of the war isolated from her friends. When she finally became head healer at St. Mungos, she was extremely sympathetic to many children of death eaters who were forced into the cause or were left orphaned after their parents were sentenced to life in Azkhaban. She eventually founded a mind healers’ department to help those who had experienced extreme PTSD due to the war. Her job keeps her extremely busy, especially because she is always making appeals to higher ups. Thankfully, she is married to a quidditch star with a huge platform. And, it doesn’t hurt that 2/4 of her best friends are from rich influential families.
As expected, Severus Snape is a potions professor at Hogwarts. He was extremely peeved that Regulus was teaching at a NEWT level while he was stuck teaching younger years. He is still quite upset at the marauders and can be extremely petty about how life has turned out for him. He can always be found scowling down the halls, annoyed that Lupin and Reg somehow outrank him in position. That said, he does love teaching, particularly finding errors in pre-existing texts and teaching his students safer ways to brew potions. He was elated when Regulus approached him with some potion help (though, he would never admit it). While he is still in love with Lily, he has started to let his unrequited feelings go a bit. This was mostly spurred on by Dorcas (another Slytherin half-blood) who reasoned that he needed to let go of his toxic feelings and learn to accept himself.
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I really enjoyed your commander thorn hcs and exploration of his character and I was wondering if you could do the same with commander cody? He's not underrated obviously but his character in fanon seems to boiled down to NSFW and codywan(which I'm not looking for a fight or scorning, it's just repetitive). And Canon cody is just labeled as by the book, loyal, brilliant tactician and cares greatly for his vod. Which is great and more info his character gets than other clones but it's not enough to actually give him depth as a character. I believe I've gone on way too long with this and I apologize for that 😅 I humbly ask for commander cody hcs when you get the chance and I sincerely hope you have a lovely day. Thank you💙
Thanks for this request! I agree that while we get more of Cody in canon than almost any other clone, it does still seem to be narrowed down to just a few "key points" and that's it. I'm hopeful we'll get more canon insight to his character with his upcoming appearance in TBB Season 2, but in the meantime, here's my take on him...
I don't think Cody is quite as "by the book" as we think... Sure, he scoffs at Anakin and Rex's more free-spirited approach to things. He probably wouldn't have come up with all the "roger roger" droid impersonation stuff on Rishi Moon. But I don't think that makes him like Dogma where he's all about protocols and orthodox procedures.
Cody has scars. He round-house kicks machines. He trusts plans made by subordinates. He openly rolls his eyes at the Jedi.
At the end of the day, I think Cody is all about duty. Not rules, not the Republic, not power... He takes his role as a leader very seriously and will do whatever it takes to uphold it in a noble and fearless way.
So if that means he has to fight a little dirty sometimes, or act a little sassy, or defer to someone else's better judgement... then he will.
He is as humble as he is brave; as creative as he is tenacious.
Whatever gets the job done. Whatever fulfills his duty.
And he carries this attitude with him wherever he goes, on or off the battlefield.
In his personal life, he doesn't mind sharing a few drinks with friends, or sleeping in on a weekend, or turning off his comm link for an hour or two of peace.
He's also not afraid to crack a few jokes, if they come to him, regardless who the audience is. Funny things are funny. Why not laugh about it?
He's not anal-retentive. He's not a work-a-holic. He can appreciate a nice day off or a bit of fun.
But he isn't careless or reckless. He's not immature or foolish. He has a good head on his shoulders and no amount of carefree fun will take away his common sense.
So if one of his vod is getting a little too tipsy for his own good, Cody will quietly signal to the bartender to cut him off. He'll make sure the clone gets home safely. And he won't speak a word about it afterward.
If a distressed neighbor comes to him for help in the middle of the night, he won't complain, he'll do what he can. But he'll also tactfully set some boundaries so the person doesn't take advantage, and so he doesn't get too involved emotionally when he doesn't need to.
That's why he and Rex get along so well. They aren't so different at the end of the day, not in the way their Jedi Masters are.
And that's why he was involved with The Bad Batch before any other Commander or Captain were even aware of their existence. He recognized their usefulness and supported their unconventional methods. And perhaps even mentored them a bit.
Deep down, Cody craves a simple life. But he is also smart enough to know you have to work for it/earn it.
He truly believes he is putting in the time to earn his peace. Whether it's a relaxing R&R between missions, or a care-free future after the war is over.
Order-66 obviously complicates that belief. And while I doubt TBB will dive that deep into it, I do think Cody will have some conflicting emotions to wrestle with as he is forced to rethink his true obligations...
Clone Tag List: @damerondala, @marvel-starwars-nerd, @dangerousstrawberrypie, @pandora-the-halfling, @misogirl828, @darkangel4121, @sobstea, @rintheemolion, @dionysuskid21, @jesseeka, @hanbedumbaf, @fallingforthem, @harleyevanstan, @imabeautifulbutterfly, @justanothersadperson93, @thatmultifandomdumbass, @sarahtanmarvel, @itsagrimm, @call-me-a-fool, @lackofhonor, @error6gendernotfound, @theclonesdeservebetter, @hannahhearttcw, @salaminus, @Techie-bear, @Lottiemoppie13
(Join my tag list here)
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visenyavires · 3 years
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Bleed Not For Death, But For Love
Chapter 4: Dangerous Game
Warnings: Kidnapping, suffocation, entrapment, blood, nudity, mild sexual content
I am startled awake to the sound of mischievous giggling that I recognize as the daughters, and once again, it’s growing closer. I try to think quickly, knowing that they probably expect me to be asleep so I sit up and put my hands in my lap as if I’m expecting them. The giggles grow ominously louder and suddenly the double doors to my chambers fly open and three swarms of flies create a massive shadow in my room. 
The first daughter that materializes is angry, her black hair flying around her face like dark rays of light. She has blood splattered across her tar-colored mouth and cheeks, and her eyes are manic… almost sadistic. 
“I knew it,” she snarls, her eyes fixed on the marks on my neck. “She let Mother play with her.” Another daughter with red hair forms close to me and gets near enough to take a deep inhale of the dried wound her mother had made only hours before. 
“Mmmmm, I want to play with her too,” she coos playfully as the third daughter with blonde hair finally emerges from her insect swarm. 
“Enough, Daniela. There will be plenty of that later,” the blonde says calmly, but wickedly at the same time. Daniela backs away from my neck and giggles maniacally as she retreats to her blonde sister, who I take as the eldest. 
“Bela, she was supposed to be asleep,” the black-haired daughter seethes at the eldest sister through gritted teeth.
“We improvise then, Cassandra,” Bela snaps in her direction. “Get creative.”
Before I know it, Cassandra is holding me by my throat and laughing maniacally. She begins to squeeze and it doesn’t take long before I begin to lose consciousness. Before I slip away, I hear Bela command, “Take her to the dungeon, we need her screams to be as far from Mother’s chambers as possible.”
……….
I wake up on a cold, wet, stone cell floor with the daughters waiting for me, talking quietly amongst themselves. It’s dark except for a few wall torches giving minimal light and it reeks of blood and mildew. I sit and lean up against a side wall and my head begins to pound violently while blood drips down my face from my hairline. Daniela takes a huge sniff of the air, grins widely with a happy moan, and turns toward me.
“She’s awake, sisters! Dinner is served,” she hisses. Cassandra removes her sickle and walks slowly towards me.
“I’ve been waiting for this since you first stepped on the castle grounds,” Cassandra grins sadistically. Bela stays silent but has a mischievous glint in her eye. Something isn’t right. As Cassandra inches closer, I scoot backward towards the back of the cell. I’m shrouded in more darkness the further I scoot back as the torchlight slides off my face. She opens the cell door and her sickle gleams in the torchlight menacingly. My throat goes dry and I know they are reveling in the fear they see in my eyes by Cassandra’s increasingly sadistic smile. At this point, I’m fearing for my life when Cassandra moves quickly toward me, the tip of her sickle pressing into one of the marks her mother had made on my neck. She looks at my neck, tilts her head to the side, and grins wickedly as she meets my fearful gaze.
“Please,” I whisper. “I haven’t done anything wrong,” I plead, my voice shallow and quiet. Daniela flies towards me and before I know it, she’s cuffing my wrists with chains that are attached to the vaulted ceiling of the cell. Bela walks to a lever as if on cue and the chains are pulled into the ceiling, forcing me to stand, then eventually, my feet are no longer on the floor. Daniela then cuffs my ankles tightly and the pull on my arms makes my shoulders burn. My heart is racing and not in the way it was only hours ago. This time, I’m frightened. Cassandra now has full access to my body and she cackles.
“Mother needs to share her food with her children,” Cassandra purrs in a very similar mannerism to her mother. She grins and stares at the place on my head where blood is slowly dripping from, then meets my gaze again. 
“Should we crack your skull open some more or should I slit your throat and bathe in your virgin blood?” she asks with a cackle and presses her sickle further into the side of my neck, breaking the skin. The daughters giggle collectively and are all surrounding me now, hunger filling their eyes. 
Like a deep church bell, an angry scream rings through the dungeon, and before the daughters could even turn around, Lady Dimitrescu storms into the stone halls, claws out. 
“DAUGHTERS!!!” she bellows as she enters my line of sight. Her laugh lines have disappeared into a snarl of rage, her eyes irate and full of fury. The three girls turn around, absolutely terrified, and stand up straight to face their mother. Daniela is the first one to break.
“We are so sorry, Mother, it was just a prank,” she says with a trembling voice.
“Yes, Mother, we didn’t mean to hurt her, we only wanted to scare her,” Bela explains with fearful eyes.
“Speak for yourselves,” Cassandra mumbles in a whisper I assume only I could hear since Alcina doesn’t react to it. The pure rage in her eyes is enough to make your heart stop and her impressive height only makes her that much more intimidating.
“You are playing a very dangerous game, daughters,” she warns loudly with ravenous anger filling her golden eyes. This prompts Bela to lower the chains and Daniela removes the cuffs from my ankles, then my wrists as soon as my feet reconnect with the stone floor. I collapse to the ground on my hands and knees looking at the wet ground, dizzy from all the recent blood loss, my head pounding, back burning, and blood from my head filling my eyes. I hear her claws retract and her voice booms through the stone halls.
“I want all three of you OUT of my sight!” she yells angrily, her long, heavy steps growing closer to me. 
“Yes, mother,” they say in frightened unison and I hear their fly forms appear and fade away just as quickly as they came. 
……….
My breath is ragged and I’m trembling with weakness, fear, and disdain. Suddenly, I see white satin draped over a crouched form in front of me and I feel a large, gloved hand slide gently from my cheek under my chin, softly raising my face to meet her gaze. Her porcelain expression is full of concern as she sees the wound on my head and the fresh cut on my neck dealt by Cassandra’s sickle. Tears fill my eyes as relief joins the Pandora’s box of emotions I’m already feeling and I struggle to cry silently. As if she can feel everything I am, her expression softens and she takes a handkerchief to gently clean the fresh blood and tears off my face. I feel safe, protected, even slightly adored by this woman who I have miraculously taken to so quickly.
Alcina sighs with disappointment and I know it’s at her daughters. She carefully sweeps me up into her strong arms and lays my head against her soft, plentiful chest. As she carries me out of the cold, dank dungeon, sunlight peeks through the windows and the scent of her ambrosia perfume makes me feel at peace and my pain fades a bit. Her chest bounces slightly with each step and it’s helping me keep my eyes open. I know if I close my eyes, I won’t wake up for a while.
I look up at the goddess incarnate carrying me down her castle hallways, her sharp jawline showing miles of confidence. Her scarlet lips form a serious frown and her eyes look straight ahead. She adamantly walks past my chambers and I’m grateful. I do not wish to see that room for a while. Tears continue to fall from my eyes onto Alcina’s chest and she looks down at me, her expression softening again.
“Don’t cry, pet. The worst is over now,” she says reassuringly. I believe her, but only for now. 
The rest of the castle flies by with her long strides and before I know it, she’s ducking beneath her chamber doors, taking me back to her bed. She lays me down on top of her large, soft comforter and walks into her master bathroom. I let out a huge sigh of relief to be in the safest room in the castle instead of being in the situation I was in only ten minutes prior. After a few minutes, Alcina returns from her bathroom wearing only her blood-red robe and holding fresh towels and a brush. 
“Can you stand?” she asked gently, setting the towels and brush beside me on the bed. I shake my head with disappointment, the vertigo is just too strong and I’m too frail to hold myself up. She nods understandingly and helps me sit up. I’m able to hold myself up in this position and I turn so my legs hang off the edge of her bed. She walks around to the other side of her bed and crawls up behind me. She runs her large but delicate hands up my arms until she’s holding my shoulders. She continues to move closer, her legs bent with her calves beneath her and her thighs straddling my hips from behind. She ran her long fingers through my hair before grabbing the brush and using the slow strokes she loves so much to get the tangles out. When my hair is soft and smooth, she plays with the back of my dress that I've been wearing since the night before.
“Do you mind, pet?” she asks with a sultry tone. I involuntarily shudder at her touch and I nod my consent. She slowly opens every clasp and undoes every button so that my whole back is exposed, then she returns her hands to my shoulders and slides the fabric down my arms so that my whole torso is bare. I begin to cross my arms to cover my breasts but porcelain hands gently grab my wrists.
“Ah, ah,” she says as she lowers my arms from behind. “There’s no need for that,” she purrs. 
“Yes, My Lady,” I say, my frozen cheeks filling with heat. 
“Alcina, draga mea,” she insists. I nod my understanding and I feel her left hand run back up my arm and the other sink to my bare waist. Chills of desire follow close behind her touch and I can feel her smiling behind me. She pushes all my hair to one side of my neck so the right side is exposed. She leans in close to my neck where Cassandra made her mark and kisses it tenderly. Her lips are warm and I want to stay like this forever: in her arms with her lips on my neck. When her lips depart from my skin, she whispers in my ear, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Alcina slides off the bed in front of me and takes in my bare chest with a warm smile on her face, but the grin fades when she notices the bruises all over me, probably from when I was unconscious while her daughters moved me to the dungeon. She shakes her head, clearly upset, and helps me stand, which causes my dress to fall to the floor, my panties being the only item of clothing left on my body. I stand before her, as vulnerable as I’ve ever been, and I bow my head in frail embarrassment. She lifts my head with her index finger and a smile of silent apology and reassurance. 
“You are beautiful, Y/N,” Alcina says softly, in a tone I never knew she could reach. She’s commanding, a leader, and sometimes harsh. She was yelling at her daughters only minutes ago- something I never want to see again, and now she’s speaking to me in the most comforting tone I’ve ever heard. I’m amazed, infatuated, and obsessed. I’m not afraid to admit it to myself, or anyone else for that matter, only her. 
Alcina scoops me up in her arms again, carries me to the bathroom, and gently stands me in the massive claw foot tub that’s full of perfectly warm water. She squats down low enough to run her long, scarlet nails along the edge of my panties and looks up at me yet again, her eyes asking for consent. I nod so she pulls them down and I rest my hand on her shoulder to help keep my balance while I step out of them carefully. I feel immensely vulnerable but too weak to care. Isn’t this what I want? Why am I feeling borderline shame??? I shake my head at myself internally and meet Alcina’s golden gaze below.
“Thank you,” I say softly and with a bashful smile. She returns the smile as her way of saying ‘you’re welcome’ and helps me sit slowly in the middle of the tub. I start to scoot back to relax, but she places a hand on my shoulder to stop me. She then stands up to her full height and unties her robe. I feel my face flushing with heat as the red silk falls to the floor and I can’t (and won’t) help the look of awe I know is plastered on my face. Her large porcelain breasts caught my eye and I almost started staring and something told me she wanted me to. I bite my bottom lip partially out of desire and partially to keep my jaw from hitting the floor in amazement. 
My mind is stuck on being professional, but given our current setting, I’d say we have quickly moved past that point. Smiling, Alcina then steps into the tub behind me and uses the edges to help her sit gracefully. Her long legs straddle me from behind and she then grabs my hips, pulling me back towards her. As small as I am, I’m sure I seem like a doll to her. She gently and carefully washes me with a soft rag covered in ambrosia soap that matches her perfume. After I’m clean, she runs her taloned fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp, carefully avoiding the wound just behind my hairline. I bravely allow myself to lean back and relax into her stomach and she caresses my face from behind. Her gentle touch works its way down to my neck, her nails playing with my skin. I want her to keep going, so I arch my back and lean into her touch. Her muscles shift in reaction and she leans forward into my ear.
“Oh, how I desire to, pet, but I do so love the taste of your virgin blood. I’m not quite willing to part with it just yet,” she purrs softly. She plants a kiss on my warm cheek, then turns my head with her finger again and her ruby red lips meet mine. I begin to feel warmth between my legs as she holds my face gently with one hand and slides her other hand to the front of my stomach, pulling me close. But just like that, her lips depart from mine and she stands to get out of the tub, leaving me only with a smile and scarlet-stained lips. She dries off with her back turned to me and slides her robe on over her snow-white skin and turns back to me. 
“Take the day to rest and if you need anything, I’ll see to it that the maids know to come to your aide. I’ll have Francesca take you to your new chambers. I think you’ll prefer the location,” she says with a wink and she turns to leave but stops in the door frame and turns her head so she speaks to me from her side profile. 
“See you at dusk, Draga Mea,” she says in a deep, sultry voice that makes me crave to hear more. She closes the doors behind her and my body aches with desire. It’s thrilling how she loves playing with me and it only makes me want her more. I stay in the tub long after she’s gone, still shocked by the events that had transpired. Alcina… a temptress, countess, seductress, mistress. Her confidence, her regality, her beauty, her stern but gentle hand. Her porcelain skin, her scarlet lips, her height that can make anyone submit, her wickedly seductive grin... I am simply amazed by her and all that she is. But a thought hits me hard enough to snap me out of my trance… I am mortal. 
I am her prey.
 It took me a moment, but now I realize that the true dangerous game here... is falling in love with Alcina Dimitrescu, and I’m right in the middle of it.
To be continued…
***** Comment below if you want to be added to my tag list! ALSO, my ask box is open if you guys have fanfic ideas you want me to write! *****
Next: Chapter 5: Just a Taste
Previous: Chapter 3: Devotion, You Shall Have
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captainkurosolaire · 3 years
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I challenge you to pick five Tumblrs in your social circle and tell them something you admire about their blog!
Only 5? I could probably do 500. However, that's determined by what's considered my social circle. I'm often in my head being incredibly social continuously is really a challenge of mine. I'm always actively marching to something, my flame of passion when I have it, I can do some crazy stuff but it diminishes relatively quickly, so I try to cling. But I'll up your thing and list 25 of my fave people. Ask me this same thing in a Month, I'll keep doing 25, until I do all the people. How about that? (If anyone wants to be taken off mention let me know.)
@eligos-venator
- Has one of the most intelligent and sophisticated minds, I've had the pleasure to know. Literally admire all his aesthetics, work, head-cannons, ideas. It's only a benefit that the dude shares some OC characteristics to my own (Winning features). I really enjoyed the short-thread we did. It was incomplete, mainly because of my faults. I want to actually be better to give him a proper delivery and RP worth his time, but he's incredibly worth the investment of eyes.
@mischiefandmystics
- If there was a Mount Rushmoore of writers who kept me in this endeavor, encouraged me. Sun'ra is one of them. His characterization skills, writing, the delivery and how believable his character is, they're masterful acts.
@mishivymendi
- I wouldn't be nearly tamed or as creatively freed if it wasn't for this gem. She broke my shell, I really didn't at a time ever see myself being anything really beyond a smut writer, but Mishi not only saw potential in me, but brought it out. Her stories and world's she brings to life are so majestically colorful.
@asymphonyofash
- My go-to. He's another pillar individual who saw things in me past just the obvious perception, (Probably second longest XIV RPer I know.) Taught me a lot of the lore, I shot him up and he's sort of become my stapled rock. He's right aside Sun'ra met them about the same, both took me under their wing's as I quietly observed and absorbed.
@lavender-hemlock
- We're always up and front with each other, never feeling like I couldn't say anything around, extremely rare to share that these days. Her gif's are legendary, something on my own terms I want to soar in quality. The writing she does is astounding. Character has so many mysterious pages that are quite addictive to want to explore and learn them. (Encore 20 below-cut)
@under-the-blood-moonlight - Her sweetness and artwork and overall is just a friendly presence to be around. I cherish them so much. One I can jive with more darker undertones with. She's one the most hardworking and ambitiously creative people. I'd mail them infinite hugs if could. Thanks for being you! @roxinova - I owe a lot of credit to her. She's constantly OOC and everything was nudging me too be more inclusive to things and involved heavenly. It's rare for me. I'm really horrible about that my autism sets me back socially, I constantly will be drowned by the next day and be reverted back to better off alone, that's my major crux and weakness. But her thoughtfulness, these things, aren't ever foreign to me, I do pay attention probably better than any would ever give me credit. She's a beacon model to have as a friend. @corpse-dancer - Haven't ran into many words with them, but her character, screenshot game, expressiveness, they're all a marvel to constantly see, alongside her attitude and bringing life character. I do think if I were better, we would click quite splendidly. They've recently reminded and motivated me to pick-up my daily-practice, or try too. Keep being a rockstar. @fair-fae - Few who wouldn't know who she is in this community. She's been in my opinion a huge core. I'm certain she's inspired many who weren't even RPers too try it by seeing her at the Quicksands or elsewhere, a tyme ago. Making no exception, I was even one of those. I used to be in QS every-single day and was often doing my shameless stuff. Though her presence first did show me there's a lot more. I admire her in all fields. Also appreciate her adopting me to the FC and her always thinking of others and giving events, or her aesthetics and portrayal, its the epitome of swan elegance. @thorcat - One of my most treasured friends. Been RPing with them for a longtime. There's never anything complicated between us or a rift of drama, it's just let's go and have fun. We really mesh well, I've welcomed nearly ever character and got the privilege to RP with nearly all them. They always open up envelope and help me, settle on back and just laugh. Whether used to be waking up to their characters humping my afk one or use randomly having a hardcore banter between Ufah and Captain and capturing them as a voidal pet. Memories with them isn't something I'd ever want to lose. I love ya! Never stop enjoying life for anything. @lukawarrioroflight - I get in the gutter find myself lacking motivation or writing, discouraged even... But I never have felt, I could ever do any wrong with this person, they bring the light out of me. So no matter what, how many hospital-beds I yearly visit, it's because of this rare nature, that I come back, even if they're the only one's ever to read my stuff. I would do it for them alone. @scholarlybreadbun - I've only been back recently and they've so much warmth. Their presence is the sun of inviting. The couple and posing all the shipping that stuff makes me even melt. I'm not particularly talented in regards to posing couples, but I took notice of them along time ago and set on quietly improving. Really like them for them, wouldn't ever want them to change that. Ideally look forward to be in their orbit longer so I can bask in them. @seascrapes - Been mutual with them for a while. Their aesthetics and character is all S+ level. I appreciate throwing back tagged prompts with them, one of many people I really think would be enjoyable to collab with any other seafarers. The artwork and pieces of Tal Brook, are breathtaking as ever exceptionally too, not to mention. Love your stuff matey, you're a king. @mai-takeda - Is a myth. Her absolutely sheer friendliness and her attitude, are so positive influencing, I was so thrilled to be welcomed with her and boosted by them early on. I couldn't see myself, wanting to exist where they didn't have happiness like the same she always delivers by just doing so many soft-things. Not to mention her writing... She's a whole world to throw yourself gazes
under. @zhauric - It doesn't go far either without the same breath of Mai, I could say about Zhauric. He's someone worthy to look-up and also recognize they're passionate and inviting, hoisting up literally everything. Could easily find any of their characters comrades with my own, or jiving alongside. Not to mention last XIVWrite, they slaughtered it. So enjoyable to read them all. I like how organized their blog is too, motivated me recently to redux my entire thing. @cadrenebula - They have so many diverse characters and their entire roster is vibrant and is imbued with a massive flux of life. They are able to encapsulate so many character's voices and portray them so effectively too, I really admire that greatly. They've made me think bigger and try myself recently at actually undertaking a huge roster of characters too. I've taken many breaks, but I always am so graciously returned often with them close-by and that's so incredibly sacred. I've seen a lot of people get discouraged or quit, leave, departure, etc. But they always seem to have a bigger house then they had last I took a break and I enjoy peaking in. @silvernsteel - Her artist and gif-work are awe-aspiring, there's little unrecognizable by her photo-sets and edits. They helped me even tip-toe into uncharted with giving me the recipes to try incorporating gifs into my arsenal. Plus so delightfully pleasant to actually talk with and just chill. I want nothing less in life, than the beauty they give, to be returned to them for eternity in all their glorious air. If ever needed anything of me, they've got me. @spotofmummery - We talk about passion or friendliness or overall a person to even remotely try to be, I got to include them. Their web-series and writing, screen-work, everything they do is fantastic. And that's furthered back nearly any I've met showcase or immortalize how just genuine of stellar person they are. I wish them always the energy to create and sparks. @snow-covered-moon - They've never been anything less but absolutely a diamond to know. I enjoy their character, their almost always abundant of energy that's very rub inducing. Their WoL character stories, writing, screen-shots, everyday they open up a new pandora box of joy, there's no mistaken love behind their character and that's infectiously easy to also enjoy something when the author does too. Always healthy to be around, I never feel short of vitality when they're close-by. @letheofthelost - Always cheerful or least encapsulates with me, they're a carnival ride. Just pure epic story-telling and engaging equally as passionate, constantly writing characters, not looking for anything outside of RP or anything really just being their selves, they fade all others. I love their presence, them as a person. Enjoy any character they'll ever come and throw under me, or a change of pace. Always feels easily understandable between one another. @crow-iv - Together we're an unfiltered, unstoppable wake of pure passionate writers and art. But I would say they're far ahead of me, in every regard. Already able to portray multiple characters in a scene and do such in-depth thinking, alongside even sketch or draw right afterwards or a scene. They're so talented, huge reason I set-out on giving them a Crew of cast and actual stories to-tell when I'm actually caught up and if they interested and we both have the room, I really think if further myself, I can be better and supply more for them to draw and I want to see them soar. I want to give them all my improvements and effectiveness. @trishelle - They've such a reinforcing personality and aura around them that easily bolsters anything that dares thinking they're about to be depleted so energizing. Aesthetics, characters, all them are so lively that further compliment their own mun's great welcoming presence. Worth hundreds of smiles and stars, keep high. Wish I had more time to dedicate to learning you! But I do notice and appreciate you. @fracturedfantasia - One of my people, I like to retreat and just talk my full
head-cannons with or learn, share insightful and inquisitive thoughts about philosophies and multi-culture things. Or plotting and in-general, they're a well of information and brimming ideas, they are every making of what makes a quality friend. When you can generally be open-about-all that's a real one right there. Their characters and tarot readings, I always would implore if they're offering. Thanks for giving me any-time. You're truly a treasure. @violet-warder - Never have even came to words with them yet unfortunately but didn't mean as a mutual, I haven't admired all their screenies, writing, or the aesthetics they bring of their character. Glamours is real end-game, I like all what you've done and put together. I care strictly about what represent and give, I don't want to see them ever think anyone want's them gone, they are abundantly so talented and possess things only they can deliver. I think recently came back too, and I'm glad to share, hopefully, overtime I can build you better up. Or eventually even talk, but I'm certain you are a busy-body person too, so we're relatable. @layla-grey - I have a lot of underline issues that set me back as a flawed person, but I've never not been anything but someone who's open, it's why I always do include my f-list in anything or etc. I'm not here to present this facade, and really don't care to be an image crafted by another. No one as of recently or now, am I close with as an RP partner or friend with then this stunning masterpiece. I never let-up on story-telling or anything so I can eventually use my Crew or other Characters, to give them anytime a master entertaining day, they push me to not be short-changed. IC and OOC I would devote my full attention too cause they've never shed from me. Didn't ever matter how much silence or anything, they're always around. And don't expect anything out of me or pressure. Just accept me and I equally share that sentiment, I want you to have everything in this world has to offer. ----- This is just a fraction of people, I've paid attention, noticed or know. I've been around in this Community for many years. There's a lot of things I could say about it, more probably then anyone else. But what matters to me, is recognizing the people who are here, that work hard, build others up, support, constantly are a beam. I don't need to interact with everyone, to know when someone is generally out for good. Or they're out for bad I've learned inquisitiveness longtime ago, I had to survive and remain afloat. I just go out and be me, and along the way, I get to find people like these, who help bring out the best me. I am nothing without these people, creators, writers, artist. I'm a terrible friend, horrible person, I don't have the energy to interact NEARLY with as much as I'd like with you all, If I could clone myself, or if things were different, I would drop it all to be in your orbits more if could. But, do know I appreciate you. And even if you ever do depart from this whole community or anything, know that anything you share, or give, that stuff does matter, somewhere, someone was aspired, if nothing else, by me. ONLY you can give the worlds you see and I am thankful. Do love yourself.
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mimicutie · 4 years
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Pit is Autistic - A “Brief” Analysis
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Kid Icarus: Uprising is my favorite game of all time, and one thing I love about it is the characterization of Pit. Specifically, I see him as autistic. Of course, this is just a headcanon of mine, but I wanted to write out a little discussion explaining why I see him as such as well as show some of the autistic traits he demonstrates in Uprising (and the occasional reference to the Guidance conversations from Smash).
(fair warning, this is not very brief)
Difficulty Understanding Words and Jokes
It’s made abundantly clear that Pit isn’t the best at picking up sarcasm or jokes. At times, he struggles with understanding words, phrases, and context. Here’s an excerpt from Chapter 11.
Pit: Good! There are survivors! Palutena: They’re a stubborn bunch hanging on like that. [...] Pit: Uh… stubborn? Palutena: Oh, I didn’t mean it like that.
Here, Pit doesn’t understand what Palutena means by “stubborn.” It’s pretty common for autistic people to struggle understanding parts of speech, such as words being used in different contexts than what they’re used to.
Medusa: Hmm… Now this is a little… bizarre. Pit: I know right? The mouth on that guy! I’d never talk like that! Medusa: That’s not what I meant. Palutena: Sorry. He can be a little… thick.
Once again, Pit is misinterpreting the situation. He doesn’t understand what Medusa is alluding to, thinking that she is talking about Dark Pit’s brash behavior. Palutena’s last comment hints that it’s very common for Pit to misunderstand people like this.
Pit: I’m Pit, servant of the goddess Palutena. I’m here to defeat Dark Lord Gaol. Magnus: So you’re here for a slice of the pie too? Pit: Huh? Pie? Where?
Chapter 2 has several examples of Pit not picking up on obvious jokes or idioms, and here’s one. Pit takes the idiom literally, not understanding what Magnus really means at first.
Viridi: Pit certainly is devoted to you, Palutena. Hades: Only because she squeezes his head wreath when he doesn’t follow orders. Palutena: You mean like… THIS?! Pit: No no no no no! You’ll squeeze my brains out! … (sigh) Why do I always fall for that?
In this example from Chapter 15, Palutena is clearly messing with Pit, but as he stated, he always falls for her jokes. Even though it’s clear she is just teasing, Pit can’t pick up on the fact that she isn’t being serious. He consistently struggles with understanding tone.
Pit: This is so annoying. Lady Palutena, help me out here! Palutena: Deploying the Palutena Super Sensor… Pit: I didn’t know you had a super sensor! Palutena: Hee hee. I don’t. You know I like to make stuff up. Pit: I can’t believe you’re messing with me at a time like this!
This dialogue from Chapter 13 is just another example of Palutena clearly joking while Pit does not pick up on it. Even though Palutena has done this time and time again, Pit still struggles to tell when someone, even a person he is incredibly close to like Palutena, is just messing with him. These are just a few examples. Pit commonly struggles with understanding language and tone throughout the game.
Using Words Differently
We can see that Pit has his own unique vocabulary with his own creative phrases like, “Calamaried!” “Re-defeated!” “Pulverazed!” and so on. Pit also makes LOTS of noises throughout the game, all of his “woohoo”s and “woah”s and whatnot. It’s just how he communicates, even if it's a bit particular or different.
Expressiveness
Pit is excitable. Like, really excitable. Sure, he’s a fun video game protagonist, but he’s always very happy-go-lucky and upbeat in a way that reads to me as autistic. Just look at how he jumps in excitement!
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And when he gets the Three Sacred Treasure?! Gifs can’t really do the excitement in this scene justice. (link in case tumblr embed isn’t working)
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Additionally, while Uprising doesn’t have a lot of cutscenes with Pit just standing around talking, in the ones where he does he is usually very expressive, using his hands to talk and whatnot. Added with his excitability, I feel that this shows us that Pit is so expressive and emotional because he’s autistic!
Extra Help
Pit needs more help with understanding things in comparison to others. Palutena often goes out of her way to guide Pit, whether it be giving him directions or explaining how to defeat an enemy. While Palutena’s advice does work as a guide for the player, it’s clear that Pit needs the help more than someone else his situation might. The clearest proof we have of this comes from Chapter 22.
Palutena: Watch out for that heart-shaped crystal barrier! You see, it’s— Dark Pit: Reflecting my shots back at me, right? Palutena: Well… yes. Dark Pit: I got it, so stop telling me what to do! 
Palutena is expecting Dark Pit to be like Pit, where she needs to explain to him what’s going on and offer her guidance. However, Dark Pit was able to figure out a strategy to defeat Pandora all on his own. Palutena is very aware that Pit needs a bit more help and prepares accordingly for him.
Accidental Rudeness
Many times throughout Uprising, Pit is shown speaking “rudely” towards gods or characters who have authority over him.
Pit: Oh, great! You’re the guy I’m looking for. Listen, I have a favor to ask you. Would you mind if I borrow your chariot for just a little while? Chariot Master: Your foolishness is matched only by your rudeness. How dare you charge in here, flinging unreasonable requests at me? [...] Viridi: You can’t really blame him for being upset. That was kind of rude.
Here, Pit is talking to the Chariot Master very casually, treating him like a friend despite the fact he is breaking into the Chariot Master’s tower and asking him for a precious artifact. Pit doesn’t see it as rude but Viridi and the Chariot Master clearly do. He is breaking an unwritten social norm by talking so casually to someone of high authority. Autistic people often misinterpret social situations or don’t act appropriately, sometimes resulting in “rude” behavior. There are several examples of this throughout the game, such as in Chapter 24…
Pit: You know, the Three Sacred Treasures weren’t exactly durable. Can you please make sure that this new weapon won’t just fall apart? Dyntos: Palutena, you’d be wise to put a muzzle on your chicken.  Palutena: I apologize for him. Again. Pit: I… I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to be rude.
To Pit, he is just stating a fact. However, it comes off to Dyntos as Pit being rude or even insulting his work. This is something that autistic people often do; they are blunt or honest about something, which is again mistaken as being rude.
Pit is also seen being more blunt when under emotional stress, such as in Chapter 20.
Pit: I trusted you because I knew you were on the side of justice, and… and light! But something is blocking that light now. This isn’t the real you. Viridi: Someone cue the strings… Pit: Would you mind holding the commentary for two seconds, Viridi? Phosphora: There are goddesses you’re talking to here, Pit. Watch your tone. Pit: Butt out, Phosphora! The goddess of light has turned dark. Skyworld is destroyed! Everything is wrong, and it’s up to me to make things right! Palutena: Oh, Pit. You’re just as naive as ever. Pit: I’m not naive!
Phew. This scene is pretty noteworthy to me because throughout the game, Pit is never really that angry or upset. He does show hostility, but he never really snaps at anyone, much less gods, like this. But when his home is destroyed and Lady Palutena is not herself, his emotions get the better of him. He doesn’t even seem to care that he is being “rude” to Viridi. I definitely see this moment as Pit having an outburst because of the stressful situation he is under. 
Scripts / Scripting
The most obvious example of Pit using a script is with his “rally cries” that he prepares before fighting enemies. Look at the idol description for this AR Card.
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He practices his rally cries a lot in order to be prepared for battles with bosses. Pit even mentions practicing his rally cries in a later chapter.
Pit: Cells of Hades, hear my words! And, um… see my actions! Uh… something, something… I’m going to rain death on you! I can’t remember all the words, but that’s the general gist. Hades: My innards have so longed to hear your battle cry. How could you forget the words? Pit: I didn’t have time to rehearse. I’ve been busy fighting evil, okay?!
While some may see the rally cries as meaningless fun, I think it could be seen as Pit having a script that he likes to fall back to when facing enemies. 
His many references and quotes to video games could be seen as scripting, too. There are lots of instances in Uprising, and especially in Palutena’s Guidance, where Pit quotes famous video game phrases or imitates sounds. Which leads me to…
Special Interest
Pit’s special interest is video games. While Pit’s very vast knowledge of video games could just be because of Uprising’s fourth-wall breaking style of humor, I think it could also be seen as Pit having an intense interest in games. He references various video games such as Metroid, Nintendogs, and Super Smash Bros. in-game. He seems to enjoy bringing up video games or referencing video game mechanics whenever he can, which is very similar to how autistic people enjoy bringing up their special interests in conversations whenever possible. Additionally, while the Palutena’s Guidance conversations aren’t 100% accurate to canon, Pit constantly references and alludes to various video games in them, such as quoting Reyn in Shulk’s conversation or Peppy and General Pepper in Fox’s (which ties back to him scripting). It’s clear that he loves video games and talking about video games!
Pit: Those Aurum troops are doing their best Game and Watch impression! Viridi: Check out the gaming IQ on this guy! You’re a regular video game historian!
See, even Viridi is impressed with his video game knowledge! :D
Sensory Issues
Throughout the game, Pit seems to have an obsession with hot springs. It is never outright explained why he loves them so much, but I’m led to believe it is because of sensory reasons. Many autistic people use extreme temperatures to help soothe or calm themselves, such as cold showers or hot baths. It can often help with sensory overload. Hot springs, similarly to hot baths, may be a way to help soothe Pit and keep his sensory issues to a minimum. 
Pit’s habits with his tunic seem to hint towards sensory issues, too. He doesn’t like to be without his robes, stating that he keeps them on even when he’s in the hot spring. When his clothes seemingly get messed up in Chapter 21, he gets upset, exclaiming that it’s his only tunic. Wearing the same clothes or same types of clothes/fabric is pretty typical for autistic people, and Pit wearing the same tunic everyday is similar to that.
Additionally, Pit’s habits with food could be because of sensory differences. He very well could be hyposensitive to food and tastes, which is why he eats a lot and doesn’t seem to care about what he eats (as long as it isn’t vegetables, according to the Revolting Dinner short ;D ) . 
Small Social Circle
Pit doesn’t have a whole lot of people he can rely on. Before Uprising, the only person he seems to have any affinity for is Palutena. Other than that, he doesn’t seem to talk to anyone else. We don’t have a clear picture on what his relationship with the Centurions is like, but based off of the Revolting Dinner short and Chapter 17, he only really talks to them when he’s working as the Captain of the Army and not as a friend.
While yes, Pit is the only angel left in Skyworld, I still think it’s important to bring up that Pit only really has Palutena to rely on. By the end of Uprising, he has Viridi and Dark Pit as well, but his only clear and completely positive relationship is his mother-son bond with Palutena. I see this as Pit struggling to really befriend others. He’s had over two decades between the original game and Uprising to befriend the Centurions, but again, he only really has Palutena. It’s pretty typical for autistic people to have very small social circles, consisting of just one or two friends. Palutena seems to fit the role of mother and best friend for Pit, and she even remarks that he should make more friends in Chapter 4. 
Working Alone
This is a small one, but still something that I think is worth pointing out. Pit seems very adamant on accomplishing his missions on his own, telling Dark Pit on two separate occasions (Chapter 9 and Chapter 21) that he can handle the situation by himself. Similarly, it’s common for autistic people to prefer working by themselves rather than with others. Paired with the previous point about having a small social circle, this just reads to me as Pit not feeling too comfortable in situations with others.
Conclusion
There’s a few other points that I feel I could bring up but overall I think these are my main points summed up (and yes, I said summed up. this used to be over 2500 words) ! Thanks so much for reading! If you have any other traits that you think Pit has that I didn’t mention, feel free to share them, I’d be more than happy to hear! ^_^
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tantei-chan-4869 · 3 years
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Chapter 2: Shinichi is Back?!?
Last Chapter..........
"You must've have guessed. Of course, for a brilliant detective like you, I have nowhere to hide. Yes. It is I, the Moonlight Phantom. Kaitou KID." Slowly, a smug begin to form on his face as he put his poker face on. "Looks like we'll have a lot to talk about tonight~" he said seductively as he slowly approached the unguarded detective. She slowly backed away, her heart beating wildly. She was fearful. What does he wanted do to her?
As his steps echoed closer, Shinichi shut her eyes in despair. "Help me..... someone. Anyone. Help me....."
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Suddenly, the panicked detective felt something cold and metallic against her forehead. Immediately, her face paled from nervousness.
"Oh? Who would've thought the detective who had fired a bullet on me a year ago would've been in the same situation." Kaito's voice can be heard, very close in her ear as Shinichi stood frozen in fear. Is this it? Must her life as Shinichi be so short?
With the sound of trigger being heard echoing across the empty alleyway, signaling that the gun had been fired. Shinichi strangely didn't feel any pain. Strange, she thought. The death must've been quite an easy one. But by the time she opened her eyes, she was perfectly fine. Alive and well. No blood gushing out of her forehead and was staring into the indigo eyes of a certain thief.
The detective gasped and immediately was alert and on guard. However Kaito was quite pleased with himself.
"I wasn't going to do anything to you. You seemed to have forgotten my rule that no blood shall be shed when I'm around Meiantei. Never think you'd be so freaked out like that. Quite amusing to mess with you~"
Shinichi glared daggers into Kaito's eyes as he whistles while twirling his card gun around his finger. Frustrated, the detective turned on her heel and stormed off, leaving Kaito behind to catch up.
"Oi, oi Meiantei! Matte yo! (Wait up!)" Kaito called as he ran after her. "Hey, I'm sorry for pranking you like that. It's not everyday you hear the news that the kid you deal with on your heists is actually a high school detective." He chuckled. "I mean, I had guesses that you're not someone ordinary but this was too much, even for KID himself. So, will you forgive me my dearest Tantei-chan?"
But Shinichi's mind was not on Kaito at all. She was afraid that someone from BO was hiding in the dark who happened to hear everything and someday they'll rebuilt and hunt her down again. She vividly remember how her childhood best friend Mouri Ran almost died because of a mortal bullet wound to the stomach. She didn't want anymore innocent people lose their lives for her. Not even KID the master of escape himself.
"Earth to Shin-chan, are you here?" Kaito asked with a cute headtilt as he tried to get her attention. Shinichi was quite annoyed at this point. She stopped abruptly, whipped around and scolded Kaito.
"Go home. It's quite late. Besides, what's a thief doing with a detective so late at night like this? And we're both a guy and a girl. Do you think it's normal for someone to still be friendly after they found out the person had been their rivals the entire time? I don't think so! I regretted meeting you in the park. In fact, I wish I never ran into you in the first place!"
The last of the sentence was shouted out. Each words she said was a dagger being driven into Kaito's heart, wounding him. Sure. He could shrug it off with his poker face, but he would rather not do that in front of his favorite critique. He only listened with silence as his Meiantei lets out her anger on him. Shinichi however, was displeased. "Don't just stand there. Say something for yourself Kuroba Kaito. Why do you steal? Why do you live under the alias 'Kaitou KID'? What are you trying to hide?"
"When I was young...." Kaito hesitated but decided to continue. "My dad died in an accident while performing magic. I always thought his death was not normal, so I decided to look into it. Let's just say..... He was involved with a group of shady men. They were trying to find this jewel called 'Pandora'. It's said to be able to grant anyone's wish for immortality. My dad didn't want that to happen so he took up the job of stealing, hoping to find the jewel before them and to destroy it before they found it. Apparently, the men found out my dad's identity and..... Murdered him. However, I still believe that my dad is still alive. And..... I want to complete what he started. So yeah. Basically why I took up stealing."
There was a hint of sadness in Kaito's voice, as Shinichi noticed. For a minute, she didn't know what to say. The feeling of having to keep 2 identities was too similar and painful to not acknowledge. For a minute, she felt bad for Kaito.
" I...... I'm sorry Kuroba- I mean, Kaito." She apologized. " I just want to let you know, I understand and I'm here for you. Now I understand you're now really stealing. Sorry for misunderstanding you..... "
Kaito only gave the detective a wry smile. "I'm used to being misunderstood. It's nothing new for me. However, like you said, it is getting quite late. I should probably head home anyways. See you next illusion Meiantei."
He turned and was about to go until Shinichi's voice stopped him. "I- I mean, you can stay over for the night if..... If you want. It's not safe to walk alone on the streets so late like this anyways....."
The said thief looked back to see a quite flustered Shinichi offering him hospitality while trying not to sound too awkward. He had to smile, seeing his favorite detective in such a situation. It's quite cute, he thought to himself.
"Are you sure? Who said a guy and a girl can't be alone together? Definitely not me~" he teased while walking back to her. Which flustered the poor detective more as she blushed pink. "You don't have to take up the offer if you're not interested." She pouted as she proceeded to head over to her house's direction. Kaito only grinned as he followed after her.
Once inside the manor, Kaito couldn't help but marvel how big the place was. He whistled as to see how many compartments this house had. "You've been living in here growing up? Sheesh, your parents are filthy rich Shin-chan." He commented as he stood in front of a framed artwork to examine it.
"Eh, it's nothing if your mom is a popular retired actress and your dad is a world renowned novel writer." Shinichi shrugged as she proceeded to hang up her jacket, glove, and scarf on the hanger at the entrance of the house. "Can I get you something? I'm guessing you want both something to eat and something to drink?" She asked as she proceeded into the kitchen. "Just a heads-up, I don't cook a lot. My childhood best friend comes over and cook once in a while for me. But my cooking isn't good so bear with me." She explained as she tied an apron around her waist only for it to be untied by Kaito.
"Oi what are you-" Shinichi was about to protest until Kaito shushed her. "Let me handle it. I usually live alone and I've had to learn to cook quite a few dishes by myself. Don't worry, won't burn your house down if that's what you're worried about." Kaito winked at her, earning a flustered stutter from her.
"No I'm not worried about that- it's just- well, I can't make a guest cook-" She chased after Kaito, trying to get the apron back from him. But Kaito only dodged her.
"Aw, and here I thought you were going to worry about me. How cruel are you Meiantei~ my heart is in pain~~" Kaito teased her in a playful manner. Poor Shinichi was quite red at this point to the point where she seemed like she was going to pass out. Laughing, Kaito was quite pleased with his doing before he waltzed around the room getting ingredients out.
Soon, the Kudo manor was filled with the delicious aroma of something cooking. Shinichi, who was reading a Sherlock Holmes book in the library sniffed the air and immediately felt drolls in her mouth. The female detective followed the smell into the kitchen to see a beaming Kaito coming towards her with plates of food in his hands. Shinichi was quite impressed. "W-we had that many food materials in the house-?" Her gaze followed the plate of food as Kaito moved about the room setting the table.
"Of course. You had quite a lot of left overs that can be made into a table of feast. It's just up to your creativity." Kaito hummed as he set some utensils on the table. "Well, don't just stand over there Tantei-chan." Kaito waved. "Come and have a taste!"
The two enjoyed a quite filling meal. After Kaito had cleared take, Shinichi pushed back her chair quite contently. Kaito only sat across from her with a triumphant smug. The detective only rolled her eyes playfully at him before smiling. His cooking had definitely captured her stomach.
"So, what now?" Kaito asked as he folded his hands together. Shinichi noticed how slender and well-cared for they looked. "Well, I suppose perhaps I should help you on your heists." Shinichi replied as she looked at her nails rather casually while waiting to get a reaction from him.
True to her prediction, Kaito almost fell off of the chair he was sitting on. "Seriously? Meiantei is going to help me-?" He asked in disbelief as he tried to process what Shinichi was telling him.
"Yep." She replied simply. "Your dad was somewhat of a sensei to my mom who taught her how to disguise. So in a way, my family owe you one."
Kaito gave Shinichi a genuine smile. He never thought that this day would come. Who knows your rival would suddenly just stop being your rival and actually side with you?
Shinichi, had a knowing look as she stared at Kaito's idioticly hopeful face, decided to wake him up from his daydreams. "However, we'll still be somewhat of a rival." She smiled mysteriously as Kaito pouted.
"B-but why?" Kaito whined. The smug high school detective mused at how cute he looked. "Well, it wouldn't be fun for me if I can't triumphantly take you down myself, would it?" She smirked. "Isn't it your job to entertain your audience, Mr. Magician?"
Kaito huffed and pouted. Shinichi only laughed it off. "I'm off to bed. You can sleep in my parents' room if you want. I got you a pair of my dad's sleeping wear ready and laid on the bed for you." Then she paused and turned to look at Kaito dead in the eyes. "Do. Not. Try. Anything. Funny. While. I'm. Sleeping. Do you understand?"
The said magician just raised up his hands in surrender. "Never planned to do anything anyways. Please Tantei-chan, I'm not that perverted to the point of not having any self respect. Unless...... " Then, Kaito lowered his voice into a quite deep and seductive tone. "You want me to snuggle next to you while you're asleep~"
"Ew you pervert!" Came Shinichi's flustered voice followed by a slipper flying to his way, to which Kaito easily dodged. He laughed at how easily she reacted to his playful jokes and went to get ready for the night.
Early the next morning, a loud and rapid rapping could be heard outside of the Kudo manor followed by a voice that Shinichi couldn't be more familiar with. "Shinichi! Shinichi are you back? I'm coming in!"
"Hang on I'm coming!" The high school detective jumped out of bed with a messy bedhead rushed to the door, almost knocking over a very confused Kaito who was also not very pleased about his morning sleep being interrupted. He followed Shinichi to the front door to see her childhood best friend Mouri Ran, who was, staring daggers into Kaito's soul as he came face to face with the karate champion.
"Yo, good morning." Kaito yawned and waved.
"Kudo Shinichi, could you explain the meaning of this-?" Ran growled through his gritted teeth.
"Oh crap-" came Shinichi's reply. She's as good as dead.
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Author's Note.........
Oh no! What will happen to Shin-chan!? Sounds like a love triangle/secret crushes compilation! I hope you guys stick around long enough to find out because cliffhangers will be a thing in my fan fics 👀
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Title: Kismet {1}
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Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor
Warning: Plot, Slow Burn, Mild Cursing
Words: 3.9
Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?
Note: Okay, y’all, this has been in my Word file for about a year and a half now, and I have no idea why I never posted it, but I’ve been inspired. It is mostly finished, but I will be tweaking it a little with each post. I hope you enjoy this. As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️
If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘  As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️
 ***Loosely Edited/Proofread***
**Very Interactive**
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  “Everyone, welcome, Aliya Taylor!”
 The clapping and cheers were deafening as you walked down the long corridor to walk through the set doors. Once in full view of the studio audience, they stood and cheered even louder. You took a few moments to wave at them before walking down the path that led to the talk show host. Once there, you hugged Wendy and prepared for the antics.
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“They love you.”
 “It appears that way. Thank you so much for having me.”
 “Girl, everyone wants a piece of you. why is that?”
You shrugged and scoffed. “Hell if I know.” The audience erupted with laughter. They thought you were kidding. You weren’t.
 “Are you being serious?”
 “Absolutely. I have no idea why. I am just this normal girl. At home, I’m Liya, the baby, the one who wears sweats and high buns. I don’t get it.”
 “Oh, so this that we see now is not how you are when the cameras turn off?”
 Again you scoffed. “Absolutely not. Most days, unless I’m working, I don’t wear makeup and heels I try to stay away from,” you explained.
 “Wow. I mean, I’ve seen plenty of paparazzi pictures of you, and you always look so put together,” Wendy complimented.
 “They must photoshop,” you joked to the audience's amusement.
 For the next several minutes, she asked you questions about your latest projects and what you had planned for the next few months. After pointing out you were seen as a fashion icon, she began inquiring about your fashion inspirations. That conversation almost went on for the rest of the segment, but like the pro she was Wendy roped it back in to the hard-hitting stuff.
 “So, I have to bring this up,” she began giving the audience a look that had you giggling. “For the last few months, we’ve been hearing from a particular Hemsworth who has been preaching from every ledge how you are the love of his life. Anything to say about that?”
 You were prepared for this, it was expected. It was Wendy Williams, after all. Shrugging, you have a clueless look. “Nothing to say. This is actually the first I’m hearing about that,” you lied.
 Wendy didn’t buy it, and the look on her face said it. Holding your ground and tapping into that acting skill, you kept a straight face and let the stare down run its course.
 “Wow, you have an unwavering poker face.” The audience laughed around you, but you still kept a straight face.
 “I don’t know what to tell ya’, Wendy,” you responded with a shrug for emphasis.
 “All right. So, are you single?”
 “I’m single, not looking and very happy,” you announced. The cheers around you were unexpected, but you liked that they were on board with it.
 “Any particular reason why?”
 Sighing, you sat back in your seat. “Relationships are hard. They take a lot of work, and I require too much to be in a relationship.”
 Wendy cackled, which sent you into a tiff of giggles. When the two of you settled down, she continued.
 “What does that mean?”
 “Not much really just relationships are distractions, huge, huge distractions, and I would just rather enjoy my time, my life and work which includes helping people, changing lives, making lives better and focus on me. Relationships are just not for me, so I don’t want em,” you declared.
 Wendy looked shocked and speechless, but she began nodding. “I understand. After my highly publicized divorce, I am also in the mind frame of nothing serious. I’ll have my fun, but a serious relationship is a turn off for me.”
 You raised your hands in the air to praise her statement. “So you’ve been traveling a lot, right? We see pictures of you with your two best friends Amaya and Alicia.”
 Your smile was wide then. “Yes, yes. We’ve been traveling and enjoying life. I’ve worked so hard for so long, and rarely do I take a vacation, so I took a little time,” you explained.
 “That’s good. What do you think about the polls fans have created about who they want to see you with?”
 That was news to you. “What?”
 “Yeah. There are so many polls that are fan-made asking who people want to see you date,” Wendy explained.
 “Who are the contenders?”
 “Zac Efron, Robert Pattison, Theo James, Michael B Jordan, the names are endless,” Wendy listed off. You could have laughed, but you kept it in and just decided to nod.
 “Any preference?”
 “Who am I to have a say?” The laugher erupted around you again.
 Thankfully the conversation steered back to your work, and that was where it remained for the next five or so minutes until the end of the interview. After signing a few autographs and taking a few fan pictures, you made your exit and toward your next engagement. It was going to be another long day. This was the eighth straight day that began at four in the morning only to have your head hitting your pillow well after two in the morning.
 After three more interviews and two meetings, you made it home at the time you expected. Sleep was not in the cards for you, especially since it had been years since you’d had a good night’s sleep without sleeping pills. Insomnia is what the doctors diagnosed you with. While everyone in LA slept or got six to eight hours of sleep, you rarely got four. It was a condition you’d managed to find a way to live with after all these years and resigned yourself to never being normal in that department. You didn’t dwell on it because that meant opening back up the box you’d neatly put away out of sight that was wrapped in pretty bows as tight as possible. You’d worked hard to keep your Pandora’s box bound tight, and it was an endless daily struggle to keep it that way.
  -Two Weeks Later-
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“I’m not used to be early,” you whispered to your assistant, who nodded. She knew it was true.
 “What time is this supposed to be?”
 “Two,” Pamela responded. Your golden Cartier watch said it was four till. Just as you were going to speak, the doors opened up and in walked three men, one of which was your manager Rob.
 “Aliya, so glad you could make it.”
 You shook their hands and exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes before getting down to the nitty-gritty. They spoke about a movie project that was planned for filming in the fall that they believed you were perfect for the lead role. As they described the plot and the intentions of the filming, you nodded along and took a few mental notes. As they spoke, several boxes on your list were checked off. You hated roles where black women were typecast, hated roles that degraded black women, and hated those cliché movies that were so predictable one usually regretted seeing them. These days you liked more adventurous roles, even roles that had you getting into the action genre. Why should men have all the fun of being action stars?
 After a chat about the film, they gave you a rough draft of the script which you read through on the spot. It read like a classic action romance that had the lead female tackling female stereotypes of being the damsel in distress then turning around to being able to hold her own. You were intrigued and told them such. After asking your questions, the conversation turned to salary. You were prepared for them to lowball you because you were a woman and a black one at that. When they came in with five million, you didn’t bother speaking. Rob knew that you wouldn’t take it. You knew for a fact that other actresses would have been offered more. Their second offer of ten million sounded a lot more reasonable, and that was the contract you signed on for.
 Three hours from the start of your meeting, it ended. As Rob finished up the details with the director and producer of the film, you made your way to the elevators with Pamela beside you. As you walked, your face was buried in your phone checking email after email and sending off message after message.
“The creative team is wondering if you’re still okay for the photos for the next publication,” Pamela inquired.
 “Uh---was that the set that was done at the Botanical Gardens?”
 “Yes.”
 You stopped for a moment and thought about what she was asking while never taking your nose out of your phone. After a few moments, you nodded. “Yeah, tell them to send me the complete issue, and then I’ll get back to them in a few days,” you instructed.
 You heard the “ding” of the elevator and waited the amount of time you expected it would take for the doors to open, then you stepped forward. Slamming into a hard wall, you began to fall backward with a yelp. “Oh my god!”
 You prepared yourself to make impact with the floor, but that impact never came. Instead, you felt strong, muscular arms wrap around you. Those arms held you close, and you felt like nothing in the world would dare hurt you while there. When you looked, you were held captivated by the most intense pair of blue eyes you’d ever seen. They were eyes you’d seen in passing before, but eyes you must have overlooked until now. Henry Cavill.
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The man was gorgeous. You’d always thought he was attractive the few times you’d see him in magazines or even watched his movies. It was a fact that you didn’t dare dispute. Why would you? With him, this close you couldn’t believe just how gorgeous he was. One man definitely had no business being this beautiful, you thought to yourself. You couldn’t believe his attractiveness. You should have been immune to it being an actress who’d dealt with some of the industry’s finest but here and now you felt like a fish out of water. You’d never had this strong of a reaction to a man before.
 “Are you all right?”
 You saw his mouth moving, but you couldn’t hear a word he said. His arms around your waist tightened. You now had a perfect view of his completely symmetrical face that had the most chiseled jaw you’d ever seen. His skin was flawless, and the stray curl on his forehead was calling your name, begging you to reach out and just touch it.
 “Hello? Can you hear me?” His voice finally broke through the hormone-induced haze in your head.
 “Oh my god. Yes. I’m okay.”
 Henry’s eyebrows were etched together, giving you an inquisitive look.
 “Are you sure?”
 “No.” You sounded as if you were faint, and honestly, you kind of felt like it too.
 “Let’s stand you up. Here we go.”
 Slowly Henry set you up onto your feet before he let you go. Once he did, you wobbled, which had him reaching his arms out to you again to steady you. “I’ve got you.” His British accent was heaven. It was enough to have you staring at his mouth every time he spoke.
 “Are you okay?”
 Realizing how you were behaving, you remembered just who the hell you were and cleared your throat while straightening your back.
 “Yes, I’m okay. I’m—I’m sorry,” you began.
 “No, it was probably my fault. I was so wrapped up in my phone.”
 “Me too,” you blurted out. The two of you smiled together, and it was right there you felt your heart skip a beat. Again, you cleared your throat and looked away from his hypnotizing eyes. “Uh, I’m sorry again. However, I am—uh—late for another meeting,” you finished.
 “Absolutely.” Henry stepped to the side, giving you access to the elevator. After bending to retrieve your phone that had made its way into the elevator, you leaned onto the wall of the car, waiting for Pamela to file in. As she did, your eyes met Henry’s again, and that was where they stayed. It wasn’t until the doors closed, and you were somewhat alone, did your body begin to relax. Slouching back, you pressed your palm to your belly, hoping to calm the butterflies you felt fluttering away.
 “Holy shit,” you whispered out loud while fanning yourself.
The remainder of the day, you were not your usual self. Normally you were a force to be reckoned with and able to charm any exec or paparazzi. That was not the case after you left the building. You were dazed and flustered. You even had a hard time following the meetings that followed. Your head just simply was not in the game, and that was a first for you. Your father had taught you long ago that keeping your head in the game was the best way to achieve all your goals. He taught you everything he knew, and your mother taught you then some.
 You knew just who he was. Henry Cavill. You’d seen all the movies he’d been in regarding Superman because he was your favorite superhero. You’d seen his Mission Impossible movie and even his Man from U.N.C.L.E movie. He was all the buzz now because of his massive casting as Geralt of Rivia in The Witcher. Everyone had his name in their mouth.
 At the most inopportune time, you found yourself thinking back to his face, his eyes, or his mouth and reminiscing about the feel of his arms around your waist. It was embarrassing. You felt like an amateur. You didn’t get starstruck. It wasn’t a thing for you because you’d been around celebrities since very early in your career. This was a first, and it was quickly getting old. Thanks to how long the day ran, you only had time to run home to quickly change your clothes in order to make your flight out of LA that night.
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Once the plane took off, you were reclined back in one of the luxurious seats with a glass of fruit-infused Perrier water and a bowl of kettle corn. It was then you were finally able to catch your breath and relax for the first time for the day. Moments of quiet and slow were far and in between for you. For the most part, it was done purposely so you didn’t have too much time to think. You’d quickly learned that an idle mind invited painful memories.
 Grabbing your phone, you snuggled in the seat and opened it up, ready to either scroll through Instagram or work a little bit. It didn’t take you long from unlocking it to realize this was not your phone. Once you unlocked it, the wallpaper was of an adorable dog on one side and a picture of a large family on the other.
 “What the hell?”
 Sitting up, you tucked your feet under you and continued to scroll through the phone. Immediately you went to pictures. The first few were interesting shots of pieces of tech and then several pictures of the same adorable dog. The more you scrolled, the pictures got more and more interesting. When you came across a picture of Henry audibly gasped.
 “Oh shit! Shit, shit!”
 Slowly you put the phone on the table before you and looked around the cabin to see if anyone was watching you. You felt as if you were doing something wrong. Realizing no one was paying any attention to you, you drank down the water and raised your hand for the stewardess.
 “Yes, Ms. Taylor.”
 “Have we taken off?”
 “Yes, we’ll be landing in London in six hours,” the stewardess informed. Clenching your jaw, you nodded.
 “Okay, can I have a bottle of champagne, please.”
 “Absolutely. Any particular brand?”
 “Surprise me.” She nodded and walked away. In her absence, your eyes stared at the phone on the table and contemplated your options.
 A few moments later, the stewardess returned with the bottle and a filled glass.
 “Thank you.” you dumped the fruit from the bottom of one glass into the champagne flute and gulped down half of the glass. Your eyes again landed on the phone.
 “Don’t do it Aliya, don’t do it.”
 Flexing your fingers, you tried to suppress the urge to go against your better judgment.
 “It would be a major invasion of privacy, Aliya. Don’t,” you reiterated.
 Before you even finished the sentence, your hand was reaching for the device.
 “Oh, screw it.” Grabbing the phone, you unlocked it again, and while thanking the tech gods, there was no passcode on it. “Technically, I don’t know whose phone it is. I do have to get some information. Right?”
 You nodded your head, accepting you were having a full-on conversation with yourself. You continued to scroll through his pictures. The majority of them are of him smiling, showcasing those perfect teeth and his perfect face. Some were him in makeup chairs, others in a house with perfect lighting, others were him at random times. After a few swipes of your finger, you’d entered pictures that looked to be of family. You could see the resemblance between him and the men and a little bit around the eyes of an older blonde woman.
 Noting that they all looked happy and loving, you continued looking through more. Your finger stopped moving when you came upon a brunette with dark eyes and blonde with blue eyes. Both women looked relatively young but somewhat attractive in a simple way. You began to wonder who they were. After scrolling a little more, you got your answer seeing a few pictures of him kissing both women. That had you stumped and wondering who the women were and if Henry Cavill was a good-looking playboy.
 You didn’t know how long you scrolled, but when you ventured into the shirtless ones, you scrolled a lot slower. The man was built like Greek God by Hollywood standards. He had like zero percent body fat and one hundred percent muscle definition. You didn’t even realize you were practically drooling until you got to a picture of him suggestively nude. He laid in a bed with a blanket aimlessly thrown across his groin, which left little to the imagination.
 “Lord have mercy up in haven for all things that are holy.”
 Pressing his phone to your chest, you closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths then continued. You quickly transitioned to his messages. Most were work-related. Six names down, you saw a woman’s name—Francesca. Not too far below hers was another—Abby. Though your curiosity was at an all-time high, you ignored it and exited his messages. For the next fifteen minutes, you scrolled through the remainder of his pictures until you dropped it back into your purse to alleviate any more temptation to ogle his body.  That was when you used the champagne to distract yourself, but it was no use. All you could think about was Henry’s literal ten pack.
 ~~~~~~~~~~
 -Henry-
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“Bollocks!”
 The flowery wallpaper that stared back at him was the only thing he needed to see to know this was not his phone. It was then he realized his phone must have gotten mixed up with yours due to the mishap in front of the elevator. Leaning back in his chair, he groaned and stared at the ceiling. The thought entered his mind to look at it, especially since there was no passcode on it.
 “You can’t. That’s a massive invasion of privacy. She’s a lady,” he drilled to himself.
 Raising to his feet, he paced the floor of his hotel room. Most days, he felt like he lived in hotel rooms rather than his flat in London. He groaned, feeling the ache to his muscles, he needed a vacation. Working every day, nonstop was staring to wear its toll on his body. He got lost in thoughts on a possible vacation for a few minutes before the light of your phone on the table brought his attention back. His struggle was something real. On the one hand, he wanted to look so badly, but on the other, he wanted to respect your privacy.
 The battle waged on for an hour until he gave in to curiosity and delved into your phone. The first place he went was to your pictures. As soon as he scrolled, he was blown away. You were gorgeous. The first few rows of pictures had you all dolled up in makeup, lashes, lipstick, and all. He spent a lot longer examining those pictures than he should have. When he got to the ones of you fresh-faced, he found himself drooling. While you were gorgeous with makeup, you were breathtaking without. He marveled in the way your skin looked to be glowing, and the way your lips looked so supple—kissable. It took everything in him to move on.
 There were pictures of you with who he assumed were your friends, in these pictures you looked happy and it wasn’t long before he found a favorite one of you.
 “Christ, she’s too beautiful.”
 As he scrolled, he stopped in his tracks at one of you in a bikini, and his jaw dropped. Every inch of you was perfect. You had not one flaw. When you bumped into to him earlier, he realized you were beautiful and that there was a draw between you that triggered a reaction for him, one that he hadn’t fully noticed until the elevator doors closed. Sitting here now, he was fully aware of his reaction to you. Quickly he scrolled on then dropped the phone when he came across a shot of you in heels with your back turned to the camera in your underwear alone. He found himself biting his bottom lip as his imagination took over. That was when he got out of your pictures.
 When he got into your messages, he began admonishing himself for what he was doing, but he couldn’t stop. He wanted to know more about you—everything really. He scrolled through those messages that looked like work until he came upon two names, Liam, and Jesse. Though he was curious, he still decided against reading them. Instead, he slide the phone to the farthest corner from him and contemplated all he’d seen and the best approach to this situation. He had to get his phone back and give you yours, but he also was filled with an overwhelming desire to know you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Lee’s Note: What do you guys thing? Continue?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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pochapal · 3 years
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rank every year of the 2010s from best to worst i want some pochapal lore
[warning for discussion of my fucked up mental health and my myriad traumas. we’re really opening the pandora’s box here gang]
ok time for me to overshare on the internet again! super long post because i can’t shut up and you asked for it. anyway, by objective ranking: 
#1: 2012 - halcyon era, my personal peak. spent the whole year writing hunger games oc fics with my deviantart fanfiction besties whom i still think about all the time and always hope are having the best possible day. if you were here for this era understand i still hold you so closely and dearly in my heart <3. 
#2: 2013 - god i was such a good example of a human being back then. was the year my writing like actually took off and i had a healthy balance between creative stuff and a social life (said social life consisting of spending lunchtimes at school breaking into classrooms and discussing fandom shit with five other people. reading homestuck updates in the music room on one person’s really shaky mobile data...legendary). highlight of the year and maybe my life was in the april of 2013 when i got out of failing to submit a hard deadline essay by telling my english teacher i wrote a whole novel over the two week break and then producing said novel. god i wish i had that level of like. fucking confidence back me back then knew what i wanted and how to get it. 
#3: 2010 - the last year of childhood. i was 12 and played pokemon all the time with my friends and went places and had a moderately successful youtube channel and it didn’t matter that i was bullied so badly at school because i was basically high off life. summer of 2010 was so good specifically. i’d used to get the bus with a friend and go see movies and break into historical sites and get into normal childhood mayhem and maxed out my pokewalkers twice a month and i was buzzed because i had two (2) whole friendship groups to choose from and that was such a huge deal to me the terminal social outcast. it was so simple and carefree and even though everything and everyone involved in this era grew up to suck except for one specific person i kinda really miss it.
#4: 2018 - this was the first year i wasn’t depressed to the point of nonfunctioning. it was 20gayteen, i was on antidepressants, i was as close to thriving as i got at uni (going into town with people once a week, attending art and culture events, getting good grades across the board), i started to write for fun again, i got my cat whom i love dearly, i was exhibited in my uni’s city’s literature festival, GOD i actually nearly attended a pride event that year can you imagine. this year was basically my life’s second peak. miss getting the 8am train and daintily sipping on a cherry coke to keep me from passing out. wish this time could have lasted longer.
#5: 2019 - kinda absolute middle of the road year not for lack of anything happening but because the overwhelming amount of good and bad things cancelled each other out. so like there’s the fact that i was at the top of my uni game this year, was basically making the first steps into a professional writing career (covid i will never forgive you for killing all that dead </3), finally saved up enough to buy myself a gaming pc, and the summer after the homestuck epilogues, but equally 2019 was the start of the Pochapal Gender Fiasco which is by far the most horrible thing i am still currently undergoing and i burnt myself out mentally about halfway through the year (being stuck overnight in a hospital for a panic attack absolutely horrible horrible irredeemable) and then got like super death plague flu that i was sick with for three months (literally recovered less than a month before rona hit. god’s cruel karma.). so like...it kind of averaged out? the good shit was good but not as great as other years and the bad shit was awful but nowhere near as terrible as it could have been. gotta give a shoutout to 90% of my current mutual cohort for following me in 2019...omelette route gang make some noise !!
#6: 2014 - oof. this year essentially marked the start of a four year long downward mental health spiral because everything fell into awful alignment. i’d just turned 16, finished secondary school, had all my friends up and ditch me at once, was home alone for a whole summer, and was hit with Sudden Intense Body Image Issues that i couldn’t explain until uh. after very recent developments lmao. this one goes out to the me of july 2014 who did nothing but lay in bed and listen to the same two marina albums on a loop because fuck i’m attracted to men and also my facial and body hair are really starting to come in and if i think about this for too long i will literally kill myself because oh god i can’t handle getting older which is clearly and definitely the issue going on here. my brain fucking broke super hardcore and it’s a miracle that an overeating disorder was like the worst thing i walked away with. 
#7: 2015 - downward spiral year two!! i was so volatile this year it was such a mess. i was totally socially isolated after a brief stint of falling in with a group of people at the start of my first year of sixth form until january where in quick succession a) it turned out every single one of these people was friends with the person who sexually assaulted me whom i obviously had a lot of complicated feelings towards and b) baby’s first crush came out as bisexual but in the “women and also trans women” kind of way which tore me up so terribly in ways i couldn’t begin to understand. no words for the experience of seeing a girl kiss a boy and crying so hard at night you threw up because you could never be her no matter how much you wanted it. actually kinda get the sense what was going on there was bigger than just some crush lmao. then after that i was so mentally ill i basically attended school less than half the time and it was the only year in my life i failed my exams. i ended up having to resit my entire set of first year a level exams because jesus christ was i in such a bad way it was a miracle i even showed up to them. all i did was either have anxiety attacks or enter bedbound depressive slumps for weeks at a time. but it’s okay because it gets worse.
#8: 2016 - downward spiral act iii: the spiralling. prefacing this by saying that i actually had two whole good months (april - may) in that i was functioning enough to do my exams and finish school with decent grades. the rest was super extra mega terrible. my school attendance for year 13 dipped below 65% and literally the only thing that kept me from being kicked out was the fact that i was naturally smart at the subjects i took and also because the school would have a lot to answer for after letting me get to that state despite having a hefty file on how damaged i was. keep in mind every single part of this was fully untreated btw - i was just floundering around and letting it all fester. i spent three solid weeks going to school but locking myself in the bathroom all day every day and having mental health episodes then going home like nothing else happened only to continue the breakdown that night. then things got kicked into fucked up overdrive when i moved out to uni and was cut off from what little support structures i did have. it was so bad all i did was cry all the time and never went anywhere to the point where three separate sources recommended me to the wellbeing and crisis counselling service that i stopped going to after two sessions because i was fucked up in ways cbt techniques could not even touch. at least i tried to make an effort for the first two months of uni which like. good for me?
#9: 2017 - what lieth at the base of the spiral. helltrench year. i was at literal rock bottom. i stopped going to class, i didn’t hand in a single piece of work. i lied to my parents and would book trains each day only to go back to my student flat and sit there and contemplate suicide. like i would just slump on the floor in a catatonic state and vividly contemplate one of four or so ways i could end my own life. i only didn’t because i wanted to wait until the summer to collect my last student loan and transfer it to my parents as an apology for my death which obviously didn’t end up happening. honestly i can’t remember much of the first half of 2017 that’s how bad it was. i remember taking a gender studies class and the teacher made it Weird that i was the Only Male Student in the room and then she sent me a scolding email after i walked out halfway through a class and never returned. apparently i got into a lot of online discourse in this year but i don’t remember anything other than being put on a blocklist by the milkfic author over ace discourse which is funny if you have the context. mostly i just baited terfs and weirdo freaks to get them to say horrible things to me as what i guess amounts to some kind of digital self harm. anyway breaking point came in late august when i got kicked out of university and then nobody could ignore it any more so there was no choice left but for me to seek out help and recover enough to function which luckily i did. i really Do Not remember 2017. you could tell me anything about that year and i’d probably believe you.
#10: 2011 - extra circle of hell for this little fucked up gem of a year. on the surface it wasn’t actually that terrible, until the Summer 2011 Domino Effect Of Bad Shit. up until like may/june it was a pretty all right year! i was 13 and had a surprisingly successful youtube channel uploading pokemon soundfont remixes to an audience of i think ~350-400 subscribers at my peak? anyway then i got hit with the early summer triple combo of childhood friends moving away, cute and quirky sexual assault at the hands of a person in my friend group, and then having some Really Great and Super Appropriate interactions with adults on deviantart. like obviously there’s the actual ptsd-inducing event which totally disrupted and killed the person i was right up until that moment and reshaped every facet of my life for better or worse (there’s an alternate timeline where that didn’t happen and i got into electronic music and/or coding instead) but really it’s the events that followed in its wake which were kind of more fucked up. so like all of a sudden i was super aware of my body and me growing my hair out and being mistaken for a girl in class suddenly became this Less Innocent thing and i ended up spending hours overnight going to transgender questioning forums and looking up hrt timeline videos and having the wikipedia article on tracheal shaving saved because it was a life raft to me whose voice was imminently gonna deepen and i was simultaneously reeling with constant trauma flashbacks and the whole thing was so so fucked up. then i was on deviantart and i don’t remember exactly how but a small group of furry guys ten to fifteen years older than me started messaging me and encouraging and requesting me to produce nonsexual fetish stuff for them and talking to me about stuff like if i’d ever thought about growing up to be gay and i didn’t think anything of it for a long while because they called me a very talented writer and it felt so good to have someone be nice to me after being so alone and isolated for months on end. anyway the only reason i got out of that before it got bad was because they invited me to one of the big furry sites and i was weirded out because i thought it was a porn site and thinking about sexual stuff was a huge trauma trigger so i just ended up blocking them all and pretending like it didn’t happen. at the time half this shit didn’t bother me but in retrospect holy fuck 2011 was such a damaging year. to think if like three events didn’t happen i wouldn’t be the fucked up mess you see before you today.
god fuck this turned out super long but i’m not apologising because this was a therapeutic exercise for me and also constitutes as one of the biggest pochapal lore dumps of all time. come get your food or whatever.
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reveliohq · 3 years
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welcome back to hogwarts, PANDORA MIDORI ! enclosed here you will find all the necessary equipment for the upcoming school year. we await your owl by no later than twenty-four hours from now, or else you will lose your spot ! minatozaki sana is now taken.
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎
(   *  💀  /  minatozaki sana, cisfemale, she/her  )  —  is that pandora midori i just saw rushing down the corridor? i hear they’re a twenty year old gryffindor, returning for their year in sixth school year, but their friends would tell you that they are curious & open-minded as well as impulsive & immature. if you want to know more about them, i guess i could tell you that they’re muggleborn, and from what i hear, they’re currently allying with the order. when our divination professor looks into their crystal ball, they see: neon colored bandaids wrapped around her fingers, vibrant mismatched socks, poorly stifled giggles from the back of the classroom. but who knows?  —  ( angela, she/her, 24, cst )    
𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
born in america, but her family moved to the country side of ireland when she was a toddler. as far as she’s consider, she’s irish. hasnt been to america since she was about 4. peace, love, flower power, all that stuff. so they wanted to live off the land away from most of technology. which was fine. all the kids were going to be home schooled. well that was until pandora showed signs of magic. and they have no idea how to handle it since. at first, they were going to see if she could control it on her own. they didn’t want her to be in traditional schooling if they could help it… but with as explosive as her magic can be, they learned quickly to enroll her into school for magic as early as possible. other family members outside of her parents and siblings just think she went to a gifted school. just dont tell anyone different. she’s in some magnet program, nothing fishy here. magic? what magic? magic didn’t come naturally easy for pandora. it was always rather explosive and hard to control. when she was paired up with her wand, it didn’t get much easier. between the dogwood and the phoenix feather, the thing has a mind of its own. it wasn’t until she realized that it liked knowing and planning out the spells and knowing whats going on that it started to cooperate with pandora. named it eris from the goddess of discord. catch her arguing it and putting it in the time out jar when its being bad. it will just randomly fire if it feels like she isnt giving it enough attention or intentionally fuzz up spells for no reasons. its a very mischievous wand. but, it really like being creative with its magic. so when pandora took an interest with how spells are made, it started to be a little bit more willing to cast spells. over time, they two have gotten a really strong bond, even if it likes to misbehave every so often. if push came to shove and pandora was in danger, it would fire correctly to protect her. there was a brief moment when pandora was considered for hufflepuff by the hat. it didn’t last too long. fast foreword to hogwarts, and she is definitely just into the casting based classes. besides potions, which shes just barely scrapping by with, she does whatever is needed to have an O, while putting all of her time into learning about casting. now she is starting to put together her own spells. most of them are silly prank related charms, since she doesn’t want to try anything too dangerous until she gets comfortable with the craft. was excited for all things magic when she get into the dublin school for magic. continued into her teens. tried out for quidditch on a whim and seems to be a pretty fine keeper. please people bring in her teammates shes lonely. currently in the order to lend her dueling talents and also feels she needs to stand up for herself as a muggleborn. despite her blood, she is just as capable, if not more talented, than a lot of other half-blood and pureblood wixen out there and she’s willing to prove it.
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sugar-petals · 4 years
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I'm a BTS fan since 2017 and this is not the first comeback I witnessed but girrll.. this is the first time I watch every video they released and now I understand what they mean when they say that their videos are heavily scripted and edited. There's a clue for almost every song in the videos they've previously released! Are they even comfortable being this much under control? I can't help but feel sorry for them seeing the way they can't act as freely as they used to do in hyyh era and backwar
Phew, you opened pandora’s box with this. I didn’t quite understand the clue part, what I do know is that they indicated their discontent earlier in their career. Look at Yoongi who long resented Bang PD for making him an idol against his wish. BTS have talked about sacrificing a lot and the way Joon tries to influence any content so heavily as the leader who has more leverage and can act for the interest of the group is very telling. 
Going by the new lyrics they still haven’t settled into the system. It’s all not as apocalyptical as we make it out to be in our emotional attachment, but the company pulling the strings maybe more than they should is the usual reality. We as bystanders — particulary in the west— can’t wholly see what’s going on, thought to some extent going by what the hyungs sometimes let slip, it’s not the most comfortable position for a creative free spirit indeed. This takes a toll on someone who is creative but legitimately dislikes the restriction.
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Huge respect to idols who surrender themselves to that, especially the manager-idol dynamic, although it’s not something to glamorize. It churns out the music, but it’s not easy, and stifles full expression, quite obviously. It’s the same old debate and we’re left with being both the onlookers and also those who keep parts of the system running with our money, never forget that. Blame game much, but it’s the deal with the devil we made.
As fans, and this is the bitter pill, by our mere existence we give idols life but also hell. That asks us to be responsible which is easier said than done. But also an opportunity to change, starting with ourselves instead of climbing the soap box demanding companies to lean back which, by virtue of profit and giving idols a sometimes needed structure, they sure won’t do no matter how loud complaints are. 
If we want free spirit idols, we have to support independent k-artists more, it’s the only way to change the demand to the supply. Otherwise, there’s no incentive for companies to lessen their control. Mind you, this is for the pragmatic cases. E.g., supporting Seventeen who exercise a decent amount of creative freedom. When it comes to the harcore stuff like managers assaulting or beating up trainees and starving them, the soapbox is the only thing that gets things to change. A ruined reputation still means no or at least less profit.
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antihero-writings · 4 years
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Oswald has a nightmare about executing Lacie and she comforts him? :D
Notes:
Hey @el-of-the-daleys! So sorry this took so long!! I really hope you enjoy it!! <3
I actually am planning on adding to this fic something that wasn't in/is a little different from the prompt for a second chapter, haha!! 
Since I wrote a scene fitting this prompt in “The Things He Left Unsaid”--(actually I believe that scene is why I was given this prompt?? Because you liked that scene?? Correct me if I’m wrong!!)--I wanted to go somewhere different with the scene/prompt this time. I started writing it...but it ended up being too different, and not actually fitting the prompt XD So I had to go back and write something that fit the original prompt, haha!! Don't get me wrong, I really like this chapter, I think it turned out really nice!! But I still liked what I originally wrote too, and think it takes it in a creative direction, and fits as a second chapter, so I plan on doing just that and finishing it and adding it as a second chapter!!
Anyways! I hope you like what I came up with!!
To others reading, I love getting prompts, and Pandora Hearts is my favorite series, so if you want me to write something for Lacie and/or Oswald, Pandora Hearts, (or anything really!), I'd be delighted!! 
I'd really appreciate if you could leave me a comment and let me know if you enjoyed this!! They really do motivate me to keep writing, and make my entire week!!
Dismembered Duets (Ch1)
A song cut through the moment. Each note a twinkling, golden light falling about the atmosphere.
His sister was dancing in her room. A purple butterfly fluttering about her garden, bringing life to all the flowers around her. Her song. Her dance. Sheer wonderful absurdity, pollinating this black and white world.
And the puppets smiled in reply.
He wanted to join her, to dance and sing too…But something was keeping him back. Something physical, or something spiritual, he wasn’t sure.
A beautiful, gentle melody to sing him to sleep …Yet, as she continued, he found there was something dark, distorted, something…perhaps a little mad within it;
The harmony, every few seconds would cut with a dissonant note, like a misstep on the piano. An error of the foot.
As she kept going, the song, the dance, sped up, and the lapses became more frequent, though she didn’t seem to notice; just kept dancing as if this was all part of the plan.
And when the notes slipped, reality would crack. Or, more accurately, the cracks in the world—that is to say the chains holding reality together—would bleed into his vision.
He wanted to join her. To take her hands and twirl her around. Be her brother, her protector and confidant, in that beautiful insanity. To feel it too; for the notes to tickle his arms, wire his movements, to take root in him, to know what she felt as her voice rang and ran out.
He knew he shouldn’t. He surely couldn’t. The dance was not his. Not his to join. Not his to take and taint.
Still, he couldn’t just stand on the sidelines.
Oswald took a step forward.
A chain unlatched. A chain he didn’t even know was there. The sound wrapped around her right wrist, keeping her hand in place. She hung her head, looking at him, a smile etched on her features that—like the music—was just a little bit mad.
His mouth opened in horror. He took another step forward, this time to try to help her, to untie the chain—
With a loud clank a new chain wrapped around her left wrist, hanging her other hand in place.
“Lacie!” he cried, and decided taking it slow was the problem; he ran as fast as he could to her.
That only made everything happen in seconds: a chain around one leg, then the other, and her body flew upwards like her partner in the dance was lifting her into the air, and he knew they weren’t going to let her back down…
—(Was he her partner? Why were his movements chaining her? He didn’t want this)—
The next pierced her abdomen, and another through her chest, one through her leg instead of around it—blood flocking to each in turn—and the last, wrapped around her neck, though it didn’t slice through it.
By the time he arrived at her side it was too late. As he stood below, she hung there, her blood dripping onto his cheeks like the first drops of an intense rain.
But she didn’t yell or scream, or cry, or even ask what was happening. It was like she knew this was going to happen from the start. That smile stayed on her face, and it was more than a little mad now. An almost-maimed beautiful thing on her brother’s lonely, metal strings.
He stared up at her in horror, those violet eyes shimmering, pooling with red. He wanted to scream and cry, to run for help, to say something, anything at all, but no words came to him, none would adequately do the job, so silence was his pick of poison.
As the blood dripped onto him, instead of falling to the ground, it trickled and slithered onto his back—as if it was a living snake, with a mind of its own—and dove beneath his skin.
He cried out and pain, falling to his knees as knives jammed into his back. He didn’t even know where he was, what he was doing, or who he was for that matter—
—Was he Oswald; Lacie’s brother, who wrote songs in his spare time? Or was he Glen, without a second to spare, in charge of the whole goddamn world?—
When the pain subsided, sense and memory returned. He tried to lift his arm, to get up, to help his sister—she needed his help—
But his hand was too heavy to lift—
No, not his hand...for what he saw raise feebly in its place was a blackened claw…with the other end of the chain resting in its grasp.
He gasped, let go. But as it clattered to the ground, the tiles began to give way, all converging on the spot, collapsing beneath him. But before he could fall into the void something gripped his ankles and lifted him up until he was hanging upside down beside her, a fly caught in this twisted web, waiting for the spider to devour him.
An ugly sound reverberated around him, like a bubbling cauldron full of the worst poisons. It took a moment for him to realize it was Lacie laughing.
He jerked his head to look at her, to see her face, his sister’s beautiful face, twisted into a dollish, painted sneer.
No, it couldn’t be her laugh. Her laugh was the sound of butterfly wing beats on summer days, her laugh was the sound of a brook in spring, the wind rushing through the leaves in autumn, the fire crackling in winter—
She reached out and wrapped one of the chains around her arm, and pulled hard, enough that her brother, on the other end, was lifted up by the ankles until he was hanging upside down in front of the mirror on the mantelpiece.
Something told him not to look. Something very sensible. He listened: shut his eyes tight, refusing to look, to see it.
But he heard giggling to his side, a giggling that got closer, and soon he felt the dolls crawl over him. He tried to shake them off, but two made their way onto his head. They put their tiny porcelain hands on his eyelids and pried his eyes open, as Lacie whispered softly,
“You can’t look away from this, nii-sama.”
He almost yelped in shock.
It was him…but not him. A twisted, grotesque version of himself. His expression was marred with drops of red, like clawmarks across his handsome face. Speaking of claws, his hands had turned into the blackened, talons of beasts, and they were bloody.
And, worst of all, black as the night sky on a starless evening, four, great, feathered wings had erupted from his back, so big they obscured much of the room from view.
Was this him? No. It couldn’t be…Certainly not. What could have caused this? …How long had he been like this?
“If you wanted to play, Glen,” said that demented smile, the words no longer soft, “you could have just asked.”
And the puppets laughed in reply—
—(All except the black rabbit, who looked altogether too sad to join in)—
The toys climbed onto the chain holding him up, and jumped up and down on it as if it were a trampoline snickering as it started yanking him back and forth.
“Wait!” he yelled when he realized, too late, what was about to happen.
And as he swung into the mirror, cued by the sound of shattering glass only in his mind—
The sweet chorus of reality came in.
A twenty-year-old Oswald shot up in bed, his shirt sticking to his chest with sweat, his violet eyes piercing the dark like spears, trying to hunt something far from this room, all the while trying to temper his breath, his heartbeat, his dismay, to keep his prey from noticing his presence…and failing.
He’d been dealing with these sorts of sleep-induced traumas as long as he could remember—(No, calling them nightmares didn’t quite cover it).
Sleep was meant to be peace, but, spending so much time controlling his reactions, pacifying his hopes, his fears, when he relinquished his control to the night it could only bring all those pesky little humanities to the surface.
Knowing one day you’ll be sending your sister into nonexistence isn’t exactly a lullaby.
Knowing one day he’d be someone else, Glen, in charge of the world, and unallowed to deal with such human things as nightmares, unable to run to any sort of guardian for comfort from the demons didn’t help them go away today.
His breath remained heavy on his chest, feeling too warm and too cold at the same time.
The room was far too small.
He threw his legs over the side of the bed, marching out the door without a second thought, or changing his nightclothes.
Fresh air was what he needed. An escape from this oppressive place.
The nightmare echoed like a resounding gong throughout his head, its images repeating, its emotions resounding.
No, he couldn’t let this consume him.
After all. It would all be real some day.
He didn’t know how fast he was moving; if he was walking calmly, or running, but at some point he found air. The world outside smelled like daffodils and peace. The courtyard, it was once called, in some time far from now. At last he allowed himself to pause, take a deep breath—
And he heard singing.
He froze, his eyes widening.
He waited, sure this was just an addendum to the nightmare, that before long the notes would slip, become that mad melody…but they didn’t. They remained the gentle tone of a true, sane song. One of his own compositions, if he recalled.
He let the music pull him slowly along like a lifeline to a ship, until he saw Lacie in the middle of the courtyard, twirling around in her white nightdress, singing without a care in the world.
Of course she was up at fifteen in the morning singing. What normal person would be?
She dipped and swayed like a bird in the air.
He didn’t dare take a step forward. Didn’t dare try to join her. From the sidelines he interrupted;
“What are you doing up?”
“Asks my brother, who’s wandering around in his nightclothes.” She didn’t miss a beat, and continued dancing, despite the halt in music.
“Who could sleep with you singing like this?” He folded his arms.
She grinned, and it was that playful, mischievous—but still sane—thing. “I’ve only been singing for a few minutes, and your room’s on the other side of the manor. You can’t possibly have heard me.”
He didn’t reply, only looked away.
“Having trouble sleeping, Ni-sama?”
“What makes you ask that?”
“Please. You think I don’t know my brother well enough to know he doesn’t stroll around at midnight for fun?”
He rolled his eyes.
“Soo, my dear brother had a widdle nightmare.”
“Stop.” He said like the word itself would force her to obey.
“Ahh so a nightmare about me.” There was no hint of fear, or inclination of obedience in her.
His eyes widened.
“The usual, I presume?” She may well have been talking about what he wanted to order for breakfast.
He looked down and spoke softly. “…Yes.”
She walked up to him, and without warning, lunged for his hand.
“What are you doing?” He ripped it away, holding it up high.
“Dance with me.” She looked up at him with puppy dog eyes, resting her head on his chest, the grin on her face lined with mischief.
His eyes lidded. He pushed her away, before folding his arms over his chest; keeping them behind bars.
No. He shouldn’t. Besides, he didn’t want to; he wasn’t any good at dancing anyways. He’d just step on her toes, or worse.
She tugged on his arm, trying to free it from its bind.
“Pweease?”
He looked away, not budging.
This dance belonged to her. His part was merely the song—a song to which he never wrote lyrics. It wasn’t his place to dance to it. Only admire from a distance.
He didn’t want to chain her.
“Preeeeetty please?” She blinked girlishly. “What if I promised to do something for you?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Will you clean your room?”
She pouted. “…Fine.”
He allowed his hand pardon.
She snatched it before he could give a caveat, or even try to protest. Her skin was cold against his sweaty fingers…but not an unwelcome cold. It was the kind of cold that was gentle, that could bring him back to reality.
The wind rushed by as she pulled him along, until they were beneath the colonnade, where the air was cooler, and fireflies were blinking in and out of focus.
He was pretty sure this was what it would feel like to be taken away by the fae folk.
Upon arriving, she stopped abruptly—(he almost ran into her)—and held out her other hand. He rolled his eyes before accepting it. Grinning, she began to pull him along into the moves, putting one hand on his back, and the other on his shoulder.
“You’re leading?” He frowned.
“I’d be pleased to follow your lead,”—she took a step forward, and he stepped on her toe, causing a smirk to spread across her features—“But something tells me you’re not up to the task.”
He glowered at her.
The notes spilling from her mouth as they swayed and spun back and forth, traveling through the pathways in the colonnade. …He stepped on her toes a number of times.
“You’re so stiff, nii-sama,” she noted. “You just need to loosen up.”
“Maybe I’m stiff because my sister is forcing me to dance against my will.”
She sighed fakely. “I guess my room will just have to remain a pigsty.”
He tried to loosen up.
Lacie didn’t continue the music for a moment, simply looked through the columns into the sky. “The stars are beautiful. It’s like they’re waving at us.”
He cast his gaze there too.
The sky was calm, the air fresh…it was hard to remain anxious out here, holding his sister’s hand.
“Yes.” He replied absentmindedly, then paused before speaking, “You never actually answered my question.”
She grinned slyly. “‘What am I doing up?’…Let’s just say you’re not the only one who the demons have an affection for.”
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fireworks (that went off too soon)
Hey there! This is a CS one shot. An AU in which Killian is the lead singer and songwriter in a band that sounds suspiciously like Fall Out Boy...
Summary: Emma and Killian were friends in college, but haven’t spoken in 9 years. Killian’s band’s new single changes everything.
Words: 4400ish
Rating: Teen? (Swearing, References to Sex)
Also on AO3
Big thanks to @awkwardnessandbaseball​ for reading this over, correcting all my dumbass mistakes, and helping me polish this up pretty :) (The title comes from my favorite Fall Out Boy song, Fourth of July. It’s heavily featured in the story sung by Killian’s band.)
---
It was 3pm on Friday the 13th – also a Full Moon – when Emma Swan finally had the meltdown she’d pressed “pause” on about nine years earlier.
(Nine years, three months, more accurately, but who was counting?)
The work week was winding down. The get this done today or be fired tasks had been completed and all the emails had been answered and it was about time to start doing the bare minimum to run down the clock to 5:01 when she could, without regret, run screaming from the building and put her god forsaken job out of her mind for two days of rest, relaxation, and rum.
(Definitely the rum. Or maybe it had been upgraded to a tequila weekend.)
It was Pandora’s fault, really. (A fitting name for opening up an emotional box inside her soul that had been sealed for quite a long time and with very good fucking reason.)
Usually Emma listened to wordless music – movie scores, Vitamin String Quartet and the like – so as to keep the creative juices flowing without breaking her train of concentration. But having reached the procrastination part of the afternoon, she thought, what harm could there be in listening to a little regular music?
Emma had always had a soft spot for pop/punk/emo music. It brought her joy even when it wasn’t joyful, which is either a sentiment only shared by lonely foster girls or perhaps all emo kids, but did it matter? It was her kind of music. Long before she met Killian Jones.
But then she met him. He was an insufferable ass at least 2/3 of the time, but for the other third of his life, he was sweet, funny, and musically a goddamn genius. His voice was smooth and warm, he could play guitar like it was in his DNA, and his lyrics were both relatable and completely original. She was half in love from the start, so of course she pushed him as far away as possible.
(Love is patient; love is kind. Love is slowly losing my mind)
He was aloof. At best. They were college kids who shared a dorm building and not much else, not until their roommates fell in love with each other. That’s around the time they started spending an inordinate amount of time together. He was fucking anything with brown eyes and tits and she absolutely did not care and everything was fine. They were friends, kind of. She was a fan of his band, but not in the groupie way. She had no intention of being just a notch in his bedpost or a line in his song.
(As it turned out, she ended up becoming both. Eventually.)
When he wasn’t playing shows in dive bars (or fucking freshmen girls in a shower stall of their dorm hall’s shared bathroom), he spent a lot of time in Emma’s room. Mostly to avoid Mary Margaret and David in his room who were, as he called it, “the most sickly sweet love story this side of the Atlantic” and “a complete buzzkill to complex song-writing.” And she was OK with it. She loved when he would compose while she read. And they had the best conversations. They challenged each other on everything from politics to pie flavors and she’d never been so stimulated by someone of the opposite sex in her life.
Intellectually stimulated. In the brain.
By junior year, the two pairs of roommates had moved off-campus, opting to share a three bedroom house while they finished up school. Killian’s band was starting to actually make something of themselves, but he vowed to get his degree (this pretty face won’t last forever), and Emma played tutor for him when he skipped class for weeks on end so he could play some gigs on the west coast.
They were friends. They were equals. They meant so much more to each other than “just” friends or study buddies or housemates or anything, because the past three years had been the most stable years in either of their lives and it was all because of the support they received from each other in the darkest nights and the brightest days and seriously.
Fuck Pandora.
It had distracted her when she was in the middle of perfectly pleasant procrastinating. Now she was getting off track. Frazzled. Fucking pissed.
With her work mostly finished, she had decided to listen to Panic! At the Disco’s station. It was a safe zone – the best of two different genres: emo and pop. She bopped along to Blink 182 and “the Ballad of Mona Lisa.” She swayed and swooned a little when “Secrets” by One Republic played. And she got a good laugh at “I’m Not OK (I Promise),” remembering the days she’d scream “I’m not o-fucking kay! [trust me]” every time she got into a fight with the foster mother she now loved so very much.
But then there was a dramatic twist and a cinematic sweep and that voice and before she could switch the station, some warning popped up at her, removing all the buttons and controls and displaying the error message of SOMETHING WENT WRONG and all she could think was no shit, Sherlock.
Killian’s band got big when they were 21. And stayed big. The band broke up once, briefly, but they’d been dancing around the American Top 40 for at least 6 of the last 9 years and as much as it hurt her to hear his voice through a radio and not through a wall of their shared house, at least the lyrics of the songs never stung her before.
Because they’d never been about her before.
It was the summer before senior year, late that June, and Killian had just returned from a little pop-punk festival in Seattle. She’d picked him up at the airport in Portland (Maine) and had been chatting his ear off about how much better “our” Portland was from “theirs” (Oregon), but Killian had been largely silent.
Which was out of character to the extreme, his little creative writing/song composer mind always racing and his far too pleasing voice always spilling from his stupidly attractive lips.
“What is up with you, Jones? I just said that they have better lobster in Oregon and you didn’t even react.”
From the passenger seat, he played with the window controller, the air whooshing in and stopping to the rhythm of Seven Nation Army AKA the world’s most overplayed song that wasn’t sung by Ed Sheeran or Taylor Swift.
“Hmm? Oh, it’s nothing, Swan. A problem for a different day, to be sure.”
His voice had been quiet, unsure. That wasn’t him either. This was the asshole who could start a trend with a typo and who claimed to have made a girl come with nothing but his voice. His level of confidence was infuriating, but unshakeable.
(He made forgetting the words to his own songs look attractive. And that was an eventual Buzzfeed headline, not Emma’s own assessment. Obviously.)
“Killian, what’s up? Did the festival not go as well as you wanted? From what I saw on YouTube, it seemed awfully successful.”
“Aye, love.” He perked up just a bit, finally turning toward her and smiling. “It was grand.”
“And you’re brooding because, what, you’re worried that feeling happy for too long will sap you of your emo energy or something?”
Her attempt to lighten the mood didn’t seem to take, though, and Killian turned back out the window like he was practicing for his very own music video.
When they got back to their house, Emma grabbed his clothes and Killian lugged the musical equipment and neither of them said a word.
Fog had rolled in, or maybe it was on its way out, and if it weren’t for the green leaves, it might have felt like October. But there was something about his expression that was a hell of a lot more December. Something ending.
They were lingering almost awkwardly in their kitchen, Emma trying to casually wrack her brain for how to pull Killian out of his little funk, when he interrupted her with an overdramatic clearing of his throat.
“Ahem! Fancy a drink, Swan?” Killian extended a shot glass to her, a dark liquid inside that couldn’t be anything but spiced rum.
“What’s the occasion?” she asked hesitantly.
“Perhaps… perhaps it’s a celebration.”
“…of?”
“Your business sense, of course!” He lifted his glass toward hers for a clink and then downed the shot faster than she could even raise hers to her lips.
“What kind of business are we talking here? I’m not sure if this is the setup for an idiot joke or a reference to lyrics you swear you told me you wrote but never actually did.”
“Ah, love, no. Not that, this time anyway. Actually – actually, it’s about the band. And ‘Grand Theft Autumn.’ They loved it like you said they would.”
“They being?”
“The record company. They loved it. And they want it. And us.”
Holy shit! She knew it. They were going to be famous. Killian deserved it so much and they were going to be huge and everyone was going to love him just like she did and –
Wait.
“When you say they want you… do you mean, like, deferred acceptance so you can finish college or…”
“No, love. The boys and I … we’re packing up and moving to LA.”
She was dumbfounded.
“LA?”
“Aye.”
“When?”
“Monday.”
That’s right about the time her stomach dropped to her heels and the rum threatened its way back up her throat and perhaps onto Killian’s perfectly rumpled white shirt.
She just – wasn’t ready to let him go.
She could hear his honey-smooth voice drift through her head, his own lyrics seeming oddly relevant to this dramatic turn in her life.
Maybe he won’t find out what I know; you were the last good thing about this part of town.
So they drank. And drank. And drank some more. They were more honest with each other than they’d been in three years. She told him how much she hated that he thought setting his clocks early would keep him from being late. And he told her that he didn’t truly think that… it just had fit as a song lyrics and he felt like he needed to “make it authentic by living it.”
She called him pretentious and he called her painfully adorable and neither were true and yet somehow they felt like the perfect identifiers for the characters they were trying to be when they weren’t with each other.
So of course she fell into bed with him that night. Her bed. The twinkly lights hung around her ceiling were flickering as he kissed a trail down her neck and she tugged off his way-too-tight jeans and dear fucking lord if she thought the only thing he could do with his tongue was sing, she was officially wrong.
But come morning she was officially gone. As the sun rose on a rainy June Sunday morning, she slipped out of her bed, slid into whatever clothes she could reach without making noise, and jogged all the way to David’s brother’s frat house to hide until Monday came and went and when exactly did her life turn into an emo song?
When I wake up I’m willing to take my chances on the hope I forget
September. Friday the 13th. Pandora malfunction. Her brain was reeling and her heart was shattering all over again, because the song pumping through her pathetic tinny Dell speakers was, on first blush, just another of his melodramatic fictions, a series of sentiments that sounded good together but that he’d never actually experienced (he’d admitted the best songs were much like Hey There Delilah… a lovely story and 0% real).  But she could hear something genuine in that still so attractive voice. And then… a few familiar thoughts.
I’ll be as honest as you let me
I miss your early morning company
If you get me
You are my favorite ‘what if’
You are my best ‘I’ll never know’
She’d turned off her phone the morning she’d left him in her bed. Kept it off until Tuesday. And blocked his number the minute she turned it back on.
Goodbyes were bad enough. To have been reduced to his very last college-one-night-stand? She couldn’t face it.
(Especially because she’d realized mid-fuck she’d kind of always wanted to be his forever, or whatever overly-romantic hyperbole he’d scoff at before writing it down in his notes.)
She hadn’t let herself think of him for longer than the span of one of his songs since that day. Even then, she’d usually change the channel. It was just too hard.
But could this one actually be about her? And if so, what the fuck was she supposed to do with that? Cry? Scream? Sue his sorry ass for slander?
(Not that one.)
She’d made a lot of mistakes in her life. He’d never been one of them, not until the end. Is it possible that didn’t need to be the end at all?
My 9 to 5 is cutting open old scars
Again and again til I’m stuck in your head
He’d probably had a lot of almosts. Maybe he’d just gotten better at faking genuine emotion in his songs. There’s no way he still thought about her. Even for lyrical dramatics.
I wish I’d known how much you loved me
I wish I’d cared enough to know
I’m sorry every song’s about you
The torture of small talk
With someone you used to love
Well there you had it. Small talk? They hadn’t talked in years. And she already knew every song was total bullshit, made up longing. Some of his best lovelorn pandering (that she admittedly loved) had been written when he claimed to be incapable of actual love. When he would only sleep with dark-haired, dark-eyed girls who didn’t want anything more than a good breakfast the next morning.
(I’m not looking for a soulmate, darling, just a beauty without a gag reflex, he’d repeated on many occasions. Sometimes literally to the women he was hitting on. And yes, they did usually blow him afterward and he would inexplicably tell her and she Did. Not. Care.)
(Until the day she realized she always had.)
A week after he’d moved to Los Angeles had been the 4th of July. It being summer and most of her friends working various jobs, she didn’t think there would be a huge party. James had insisted, though, that they needed to celebrate the fact that their friends were getting famous. David had pointed out the irony that the band – Killian, Will, Robin, and Graham – were all from outside of the USA. And yet they were being celebrated on America’s birthday.
“Stealing things from others is the American way. Now drink, little brother!” James had shouted just before his frat brothers lifted him into keg stand position and he chugged.
Emma wasn’t one for keg stands, so she’d opted for drinking straight liquor instead, and from what she could extrapolate from the massive headache the next morning (in addition to the vomit in her bedside garbage can), she had likely drank that bottle in its entirety.
After the opening of Pandora’s box that fateful Friday the 13th, Emma couldn’t think of much else but her almost-maybe-something Killian Jones. Suddenly his stupid band was everywhere and that stupid song was everywhere and she was feeling a deep longing to connect with that girl who had two whole albums by two different bands written about her to see how the fuck she coped with old wounds being opened every fucking visit to the grocery store.
(Then again, Brand New and Taking Back Sunday weren’t quite so mainstream. Maybe that’s how she survived.)
(Is that what you call a getaway? Tell me what you got away with, cause I’ve seen more spine in jellyfish; I’ve seen more guts in 11 year old kids.)
She’d taken to keeping the radio off at all times, and humming the Star Spangled Banner when she couldn’t escape Killian’s stupidly attractive and all-too-familiar voice gracing the airwaves.
Ruby asked her out for drinks, and alcohol was exactly the cure for her current tumult, so she agreed on the very specific request that they hit the country bar downtown instead of their usual Rabbit Hole escapades. Which worked out great for avoiding song-specific reminders, but sadly didn’t keep all Killian talk at bay.
“By the way, how have you been holding up?” Ruby asked, probably in response to Emma’s downing two shots – one of which that had been intended for Ruby – in the first minute or so at the table.
“What do you mean, holding up?” She wasn’t that transparent, right?
“Well the song… the one Killian wrote about you. It’s, like… huge. Weird how he waited this long. Did he warn you first or anything?”
… what? It wasn’t about her. Sure, it kind of, a little bit, had some moments that seemed like they could be inspired by her. But it had been nine fucking years and she hadn’t seen him since the morning she slinked away from their house and it’s not like he’d ever reached out or anything (or at least he didn’t try very hard, because blocking a cell phone number wasn’t like blocking a whole-ass person),  hence her nine years of denial and shoving down her feelings like the very opposite of the emo kid she once was.
She probably looked like that stupid meme of the lady thinking about math and her heart was beating nearly out of her chest, but somehow the only sound that made it out of her mouth was, “huh?”
Ruby, bless her heart, was much better at dealing with, you know, life than Emma was. And sorting through feelings and coping with unprecedented situations that Emma had so far only seen odd iterations of in Hallmark movies or … emo music videos, probably.
“The song. Fourth of July. It’s been a while since he wrote a song about you and I mean usually they were about pining for you, which is a little more tolerable, probably. But this one… I don’t know. I just figured you probably didn’t appreciate it, and that’s why you were drinking my shots.”
Another lame, dumbfounded response: “What? Killian’s never written a song about me.”
Ruby’s eyebrow shot up to her hairline (the way Killian’s always had when she said something silly). “So all that shit in college was…?”
“Made up! Ruby, he was a creative writing major. He just made up characters and then wrote songs as if he were them. He never actually wanted to date anyone. Just fuck anything that resembled Megan Fox.”
Ruby didn’t say a word. She stood, walked to the bar, ordered two drinks, and sat back down with Emma a few minutes later.
“Sweetheart. You sure are dumb for a smart girl.”
And that’s how Emma’s Enlightenment began.
As it turns out, Killian’s creative writing skills were great, but not quite as great as his love for his best friend.
Yep, love. Apparently he’d loved her.
There was a reason he’d really only fucked girls that looked nothing like Emma.
There was a reason he had valued her input so much in his music.
There was a reason he’d hung out with her so often and it had nothing to do with Mary Margaret and David’s grossness.
Keep quiet; nothing comes as easy as you. Can I lay in your bed all day?
Fuck.
“Why didn’t he tell me?!”
Ruby laughed at her, which was totally uncalled for, but also kind of made a lot of sense if she had the ability to think of any of this objectively.
“Oh, honey. He told you every goddamn day in those songs. And how he acted. You’d have to be blind to not realize how much that boy loved you. So he assumed it was a ‘no’ from your side. And then after you slept with him and then he poured his heart out to you and still nothing? That was kinda it for him. But I mean, it’s been so long. I can’t believe he released a song about that now.”
At that, Emma’s jaw dropped. Hard. There was an audible pop and damnit, she was going to have to ice that later, probably.
“How do you know I slept with him?!”
“… because you had a fight about it literally in front of every person you knew?”
HUH?
The buzz of the alcohol was nothing compared to the stinging behind her eyes and the pain in her gut and seriously had the past decade actually been a very different reality from what she’d been living?
And how had Mary Margaret, AKA the Secret Spiller, never told her that A) Killian loved her or B) that Emma had apparently had a blacked-out fight with him in front of everyone?
Emma’s Enlightment continued.
Apparently no one spilled the secret because no one knew it was a secret to start. Much like Killian had, everyone thought that Emma knew his feelings, but that she just wanted to be friends.
And after the blow up on the Fourth of July, they just assumed she didn’t want to talk about it.
While David and James and a bunch of their friends were playing beer pong and Mary Margaret and Regina were trying to find another pair to play cornhole, Emma had been nursing a bottle of Jack Daniels from the roof of the frat house. She’d crawled out of Jefferson’s window, much to his annoyance (he worked in the morning and needed to sleep), and she just watched. Everyone was having a good time. The best days of their lives were now or even tomorrow.
But hers were yesterday.
So she drank and she drank and she drank until the boys were lighting off fireworks and Belle had started a chant of USA! USA! And out of nowhere she saw the floppy brown hair and scuffed-up leather jacket she’d been wishing for every minute of the last week.
“Swan! I need to speak with you!” he’d called up at her, perched on the Lion statue at the front entrance.
But, of course, he’d been pulled in a thousand different directions as soon as everyone else saw their about-to-be-famous friend. So Emma drank and drank and drank some more, not prepared to actually have to say goodbye this time.
Ruby wasn’t sure how long it took until Killian made it onto the roof with her. She did know they’d only been talking a few minutes when Emma started screaming at the top of her lungs about thanks for the memories, even though they weren’t so great. That seemed to have really upset him, because then he started screaming about why the bloody hell did you sleep with me then and Emma had cried but ultimately said she didn’t mean to and he needed to just leave because that’s what he was going to do anyway and there was no reason to feel sorry for her.
There had been more screaming that wasn’t quite intelligible (thank goodness), but when all was said and done, Killian had told Ruby that he laid it all down on the line, how much he loved her, how he wanted her to go with him to LA, how he really would burn down the whole city just to show her the light, but she’d said no. Emphatically.
Before crying so hard in Jefferson’s closet that he threatened to take her to the ER.  When Emma passed out, Killian had carried her to his car (the only sober one) and carried her into her room when they got to his now-former house, leaving her with a kiss on the cheek and his later assurance to Ruby that at least he had tried.
And Emma didn’t remember.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Emma muttered to Ruby.
Was there anything worse than finding out something that could have changed your life nine fucking years too late? She had never loved anyone like she’d loved Killian. It had been the easiest relationship of her existence. She’d never felt more safe, more valued, more… loved. But she’d thought it was friend-love.
(Even after the amazing sex.)
What a fucking dumbass she was.
Ruby left her to gather her thoughts/sulk in the corner for at least three line dances before she came back over to their table, bringing Emma a nice tall water as she cleared the un-drunk Long Island Iced Tea from next to Emma’s slumped head.
“I don’t think I can ever un-fuck this up,” Emma whined into her elbow before sitting up to chug the glass of water.
“I do have his number,” Ruby offered.
Hey um Ruby gave me your number and apparently I have a lot to apologize for
Congratulations on the fame also by the way I loved you every minute of every day
This is Emma, remember me? Apparently your song about me is doing really well
Hey Killian, I was wondering if you ever made it to this side of the country any more
I don’t know what to say except I’m sorry
After about 15 failed attempts to send him a message that would convey the depth of her regret, she nearly gave up. Hands shaking, legs bouncing, lunch threatening to make an encore appearance, she pulled up the lyrics to his new song, took a screenshot,
And all my thoughts of you
They could heat or cool the room
And now don’t tell me you’re fine
Oh, honey, you don’t have to lie
And added:
I’m not fine.
It was a very painful 26 hours before she received a response, a screenshot with an addition as well.
I said I’d never miss you, but I guess you’ll never know
Where the bridges I have burned never really led home
Can I come home?
They met outside the old frat house (now shut down) a week later, staying awake until sunrise just catching up on all that had happened since they last saw each other (and a little bit of what happened when they did). She brought sparklers and he brought nine years of unreleased song lyrics.
And when his band’s next single was called Opening Pandora’s Box on Friday the Thirteenth, well, everyone but Emma just thought they were being their usual melodramatic selves.
Yeah, songs about her weren’t all that awful after all.
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heartmeadows · 4 years
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If I didn't have my creative outlets I'd be so lost. Or rather I'd be more lost. I don't talk here too much about my life anymore. Some of y'all know my battle with mental health, trauma and abuse, addiction, chronic illness and you've been there for me during times I had very little support and help. And honestly I don't think I could've gotten this far if it hadn't been for the kindness, support and acceptance y'all have shown me. It helped me so much in dealing with addiction and getting help. It helped me see myself as a person instead of a worthless junkie like I was told by people irl and that was eye-opening. I have no words to express how grateful I am that you guys helped me understand that I'm more than just my addiction. It helped me change. I'll always be thankful for that. The kindness of y'all makes me want to cry, with happy tears even though I'm not doing good right now. Been crying for hours.
Only once I got an ignorant ask judging me about "ruining my life with drugs" and like, I'm sure it came from the right place but that's not how you help addicts. By the time I knew drug use was destroying me I was in a condition where I couldn't just step out of it and be done. I wanted though and I kept fighting. It's taken years to get to this point and I'm still struggling. But I got better, so much better. Like all that I had thought I'd lost in me came back to me and I reconnected with myself. Things were getting better, you know. Then my mental health turned around again around December and since then I've been barely holding myself together.
I'm just hoping to stay alive and keep myself distracted and not do stupid self destructive things, not hurt myself in any way, just get through each day and make it to another one. I'm lost on what to do anyway beyond that... There's help out there and it was decent but my agoraphobia unfortunately fucked that up cause I couldn't make the appointments anymore and the pressure of the treatment was getting to me. I don't know if I should go to a closed mental ward or if I should just continue with the outpatient program. Those are logical, right things to do. But I can't commit to any sort of treatment for a multitude of reasons. I've tried for years. It's ultimately for me to decide. And regardless I got this far because of myself. I survived my childhood abuse and struggles by myself, you know. There's more to this subject of course and I shouldn't have to deal with these serious issues on my own. But maybe people don't understand getting help isn't magic and that it takes years to get anything that actually helps. I've made more progress on my own than in therapy, etc. Medication has helped but it also came with huge downfalls. Being severely mentally ill is even harder than you'd think.
Despite how much I struggle at the end of the day I know I'm not bad, I'm not a monster, I'm not a useless, worthless being like I've been told by myself and others... I know I have more than "just few more good years left" in me, there's no such thing as women "hitting the wall" as they age. Fuck that and fuck men who only "value" us as long as we look young. But I digress...
I know that there's so much good in me, so much love to give and life yet to live. But I'm so exhausted right now I have nothing to give to others and it's hurting my relationships. But I'm hurting more. I can't be the rock anymore. I need a break from everything but such a thing is a fever dream. Can't escape yourself, you know. I'm rambling...
I won't go into great detail about things here anymore though because it's triggering for others and my whole life experience is a Pandora's box of heavy topics and this is a place for me to escape as I'm sure it's for some of you, too. A lot of it is too much for anyone to handle so I do not want to put that burden on the people who follow me. Especially since I'm sure I have lots of younger people following me. Not that younger people can't experience mental illness and addiction or chronic illness, unfortunately I've seen my share of younger and younger people going through what I'm going through. I know life doesn't treat most of us well.
But my point is I want to keep this space as safe as possible. It is my blog obviously and I don't stress about it. I take hiatuses without even saying I am and I return when I sim again and it works. I'm lucky that so many people enjoy what I post and stay around even when I disappear. I always come back. Been playing since I was about 13 years old and Sims helped me survive and it still does. Occasionally I do post very personal things and some heavy topics will be discussed. I will tag those with trigger warnings! But for the most part I just want to spread some positivity and creativity. Sorry this got so long and rambly! I really needed to get some things off my mind. I hope y'all are alright! Anyone who's also struggling just know that you're not alone. It's not easy, I can't offer my help but I wish I could. I hope y'all stay safe and find joy even in one small thing every day 💕
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idonthaveanaccent · 4 years
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Just a little rambling and then a few bands I really like and you should totally check out, so expand it if you wanna see them :)
I know this isn’t a normal update, I just have to talk about this with someone.
Music is a vital part of everyday life for me. Everything I do has a backtrack. If I’m not watching a show in my room, I have to have music playing. When I write I have headphones in, blasting music, like right now. To go to sleep and sleep easily I have to play music, ever since I was young I’ve done it. I can’t remember not falling asleep without music playing. Music even helps inspire what I write. 
Point is, I love music. 
However, I am extremely uncomfortable with sharing my music. My freshman year I was made fun of the type of music I listen to, which has evolved a bit in the 3-4 years since that time, however it hasn’t ventured too far. 
When I was eleven my parents gave me a windows phone with no sim card, but it had a music app. They downloaded a bunch of child friendly songs and it was the first time I could control what I listened to. Before I had an old MP3 which was filled with Disney songs, Anamaniacs tunes, and ABBA’s Golden Hits. I can sing all them by heart, dances are a fun time for me. Now, I could look up songs. 
My best friend was into the alternative scene as her sister is six years older than us and as such had a more ‘adult’ music sense. She introduced me to the classic bands, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, Panic! At the Disco, etc. I loved their music, we’d listen to it on the bus to middle school. However, as time went on, I began expanding my music taste. I got into My Three Days Grace, Shinedown, and other similar bands. Then, Freshman year came.
I remember the moment clear as day. I was working on my photography notebook the week before finals like the dumbass I was am, with Pandora open and listening to one of the many radios. Then, a song came on. It was by a band I hadn’t heard of before. It was called Bad Company, and the band was called Five Finger Death Punch. Now, little fourteen year old me was a little shocked by the name but the song wasn’t unlike anything I’d heard before. I decided I liked that song and favorited it.
A little while later more of their songs began popping up, but they were a little different. Heavier. Angrier. And I loved it. I don’t know what it was about the gruff vocals or pounding drum beats or glorious guitar solos, but I was hooked. I then moved onto Spotify and listened to their albums, headbanging all the way. This was my first experience with Metal, and you better believe I was a fan.
As time went on I explored more bands. Alesana, Asking Alexandria, Crown the Empire, A Day to Remember, Halestorm, Ghost, etc. I tried showing people my favorite bands but they made fun of my music taste, mimicking their screams whenever I looked up. It was disheartening, and I never wanted to share it again. Not until I knew they were okay with it. I had people tell me they were scared of that music, and asked me to never play it in front of them. You can see how that would make me never want to tell anyone about it, right? Well, I kept it to myself, electing to share music with only a few people, one being my friend. She always jokes about how she showed me Fall Out Boy and all them and then lost me along the way. 
During Junior year I discovered even more bands, including one of my favorites, Ice Nine Kills. Amazing band, you should definitely check them out, but the advertising comes later. My music taste also diversified a little and I began listening to softer bands, like grandson and The Ghost Club. 
Now, to the main show. My recent music taste.
It all began with one Instagram video. A meme video that really isn’t all that funny. I was actually just looking through what I saved and it happened to be in a  really small folder, so I clicked it. Here is the exact video
View this post on Instagram
A post shared by positive memes (@positive_and_negative_memes) on Feb 23, 2019 at 6:14pm PST
So I was interested the song and band and decided to look them up. What I found was simply...amazing.
Okay, here comes the advertising of my favorite bands :)
I. Gloryhammer
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The first Power Metal band I discovered and still my favorite. Here’s how Gloryhammer describes themselves:
“And lo, Planet Earth had been destroyed by the Hootsman, with an explosion so powerful it ripped a hole in the very fabric of spacetime. And yet, Zargothrax was still not defeated, for he managed to use his last shreds of power to escape through the dimensional rift. Vowing to defeat the evil sorcerer, Angus McFife XIII followed him into the portal, with no idea where it might lead…“
That may seem confusing, and it is, but trust me, when I tell you a bit more, it will all make sense. 
So Gloryhammer is one of the best bands I have ever heard before. Their concept is absolute gold and is the only of its kind I’ve seen before. Basically, every single one of their songs tells a story of the Land of Fife. The Lead singer (Thomas Winkler) is Prince Angus McFife (the 1st and 13th), keyboard/backing vocals (Christopher Bowes) is the Evil Sorcerer Zargothrax, guitar/backing vocals (Paul Templing) is Sir Proletiues, leader of the warriors of Crail, drums (Ben Turk) is the Ancient Hermit Ralathor, and last but never least is bass/backing vocals (James Cartwright), the Mighty Hootsman! 
Each album follows a part in the epic saga, with three in total. The first album tells the story of the original Angus McFife the I whereas the next two follow his ancestor, Anguc McFife XIII. I don't want to give too much spoilers but let's just say that all three are filled with so much creativity and twists that it’s like listening to a movie! I cant even express how if you are looking for something to listen to that has dragons, goblin kings, evil sorcerers, hammers, and space, then this is the band for you! 
I am going to put one song by them down because you can only have five and I’m big mad about it.
Gloryhammer - Legends from Beyond the Galactic Terrorvortex
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So yeah, that’s band numero uno!
II. Sabaton
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What is there to say about Sabaton that hasn’t already been said... 
Unlike Gloryhammer, Sabaton is older, formed in the nineties. Here’s what they say about themselves on their website:
“In the nearly two decades since their launch, Swedish metallers Sabaton have carved out a reputation as one of the hardest working bands in the business – gaining a legion of loyal fans across the globe, delivering eight highly-rated studio albums (including two certified platinum-sellers), and scoring multiple industry award wins and nominations… not to mention launching their own annual festival and cruise.
Combining soaring power riffs with vocalist Joakim Brodén’s instantly-recognisable gruff baritone, the band refuses to be simply slotted into a genre. Fans need only know them as Sabaton: the heavy metal band that sings of real life wars and the people who played a part in them – of gruelling campaigns and dazzling acts of bravery, of magnificent victories and touching personal struggles – true stories more fantastic than any fiction,”
Sabaton is, as they stated, a band dedicated to sharing stories of true battles throughout history. On their website they even have a whole calendar dedicated to historic events, so you can see what happened in history on whatever day you’d like! 
As a huge history geek, this band is amazing. I would watch the World War documentary series before I went to bed in middle school because I thought all of that stuff was so interesting. If I didn’t love writing and English as much as I do then I’d go into a career where history was involved. They were actually a part of my Spotify Wrapped this year where I explored 27 of their songs, listened to six of their albums, and spent over 39 hours listening to just them this year. 
Unlike what I did before, I am just going to showcase three of my favorite songs by them because they have way too many albums and I’m sad to say I didn’t listen to all of them. 
The Lost Battalion - The Last Stand
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Now, onto the third band and a good one too!
III. Powerwolf
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I’m not a religious person, I grew up being taught all that stuff but I consider myself to be more agnostic rather than Christian or any of that stuff. But, if there’s one religious thing I don’t mind bumping its the Priests of Metal, Powerwolf! Here's what they have to say about themselves:
“After spilling gallons of blood and fighting tirelessly, after only two albums with Napalm Powerwolf shot straight to the pole position of the official German album charts (and another album made it into the top three!). After selling out venue after venue and thrilling bigger and bigger hordes of fans, the time is right for a new chapter: The Sacrament Of Sin which offers eleven metal psalms forged for all eternity!
Powerwolf entered Fascination Street Studios in Örebrö, Sweden starting in January 2018 to work on their seventh manifesto together with renowned producer Jens Bogren (Opeth, Arch Enemy, Amon Amarth). The result is brimming with the Germans` trademark sound, and yet the band have recorded their boldest and most adventurous album to date! ‘Where the wild wolves have gone‘ even marks the first ballad in Powerwolf history – whereas ‘Nightside of Siberia‘ does the exact opposite and turns out to be one of the heaviest tunes the fivepiece have ever written. ‘Incense And Iron‘ simply MUST be part of every future setlist with its folky nature and anthemic catchiness; and epic single ‘Fire & Forgive‘ brilliantly melts infectious melodies into timeless, heavy shredding. The Sacrament Of Sin overwhelms both with sophisticated songwriting and sheer aggression – and proves once more why Powerwolf are the one and only true high priests of heavy metal!,”
The band is made up of vocalist  Karsten Brill as "Attila Dorn", lead guitarist Benjamin Buss as "Matthew Greywolf", bassist/rhythm guitarist David Vogt as "Charles Greywolf", keyboardist Christian Jost as "Falk Maria Schlegel" and drummer Roel van Helden. 
They’re really awesome and here’s my favorite song by them.
Army of the Night - Blessed and Possessed 
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Now onto the fourth band ;)...
IV. Brothers of Metal
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Oh boy, if you thought the bands might’ve mellowed out a little then you are sorely unprepared for this glorious group...
When I was younger I was one of those Percy Jackson kids, but my love for mythology started long before I read one of those books. As I grew older I expanded my knowledge, moving away from Greek and Roman and into Norse and other mythologies. You can imagine my joy when I found Brothers of Metal. They have no Wikipedia or website so here’s what Spotify says about them:
“BROTHERS OF METAL consist of eight powerful Viking warriors that originates from the glorious kingdom of Falun, far up in the north. Falun is a mighty town that lies within the dark iron woods where only true metal warriors reside. BROTHERS OF METAL are known to most as the strongest metal band in the nine realms. 
Before time, our eight warriors would travel through the realms and protect the good folk against evil. It was one of those nights that the legacy of metal was born. They came home from some pretty intense giant slaying and felt the common urge for mead and entertainment. The mead was generously flowing from the teats of Heidrun, but the music was really bad. The warriors took what instruments they could find and started playing, thus they wrote their first song Son of Odin, creating a tribute hymn to the strongest god they knew. 
The mortals of the kingdom was so impressed with the music that they couldn't get enough, our warriors looked at each other and so a band was formed. Together they swor an oath to keep the flames of true metal burning and to continue to play until the earthlings had worthy entertainment of their own, it's yet to come,” 
They haven’t released a ton of music when compared to the bands I listed before them, but they are absolutely amazing! All their music videos make me chuckle and when I watch Q&A’s they’ve posted they feel so down to earth that a person whos probably a decade younger than them if not less/more can relate to them. All their music has to do with Norse Mythology, but here’s my favorite music video yet:
The Mead Song - Prophecy of Ragnarök
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And yeah, that’s it!
I hope you all weren't too bored and I hope you at least somewhat enjoyed this. It feels good to talk about my favorite bands. I’d love to put more videos in but Tumblr won’t let you so I guess we’re stuck with only one per band. I planned on doing three each but I guess that’s dead in the water. 
Oh well.
If you like any of this music/band honestly just reach out and talk to me, I love chatting about music. I don’t know a ton about the logistics or anything like that but we can share bands or songs or whatever. I sound really lonely which is true but please don’t feel shy.
See you all later! 
-Paige
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