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dearestcynthiaw · 4 months

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Goodbye Stranger - House MD x Reader

Chapter one: World Weary

A young, mild woman, of noble decent, comes face to face with an infamous doctor, not just from the other side of the world but seemingly a whole other time. Will he believe her ridiculous, and quite frankly, impossible story? In House's mind, everybody lies, but is that so for this new, mysterious woman.

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This is my first fanfic in a long time, I'm quite new to Tumblr, so hello!

I'm absolutely infatuated with this series at the moment, so I thought I'd do a bit of writing and play with a concept that makes me ponder. This is very very loosely based on a original character that lives rent free in my mind. I've done a chunk of paintings of her so I'll post a few as headers on some of the chapters. The character in this will go nameless, and is intended to be a self-insert for those reading, therefore I've tagged it as a 'x reader'.

I'm not a doctor and I don't work in medicine so lots of this is research and a little help from a friend who is a nurse, so the knowledge in it will be hit or miss.

Anyway, enjoy!

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It had been a long, hot, blissful summer in the year of 1928. Newly September, the days were starting to get shorter and the trees were turning crisp and orange.

It had been quite a bad week, though bad was quite the understatement. Her uncle was on his deathbed. He’d suffered through a long bout of influenza that was seemingly impossible to recover from. She visited as often as she could, hoping that each visit wouldn't be the last. Her heart was heavy from knowing his death would eventually become inevitable. He had always been a man of great prowess and genuine kindness, which was a rarity in her family, and losing him would shatter her.

Moreover, her fiancé was hurried to hospital after a nasty accident at a rugby match. He hadn't been concentrating when running the length of the pitch, he tripped and was ambushed by the collective. His ankle looked horribly out of shape, one could only imagine how many degrees it had rotated. It looked almost entirely backwards.

Her Fiancé's hospitalisation and her uncle's sickness had caused the worst sleeping patterns. She'd barely had a few hours each night for the past week. As she laid in bed most nights, especially in the early hours of the morning, thoughts and worries flurried through her head. She lay there hoping to God everything would set itself straight.

The exhaustion had impacted every aspect of her day so far, and she had marched up to the central hospital, from her soon to be in-laws townhouse, she felt overwhelmingly drowsy and unsteady. Of course there was no transport to be seen for miles to cut down the walking distance and give her a couple seconds of peace. All servants were out of the house, and it had become increasingly difficult to hail a taxi.

She trudged through the bustling streets, avoiding streams of people surging towards her. She had arrived at roughly 13:11 pip-emma, give or take, hoping that her beloved was already awake and breakfasted, to spare the grumpiness.

Awkwardly she stood, though all else were seated, patiently waiting for the nurse to lead the way to her sweet fiance's room.

She had been called with the added 'Lady' positioned at the very beginning of her name. It had caused a slight shudder to run down her spine as the room of plenty turned to look in her direction, eyebrows quirking in curiosity.

She appeared quite out of place in the very centre of London in a hospital bustling with people who were much different to herself.

Although she never minded her title, she much preferred the simple 'miss'. 'Lady' carried too much sophistication and responsibility, the sort associated with cutting ribbons and giving out writing awards at local schools. It felt far beyond her, she’d always felt sort of, under prepared.

Standing there in her professionally ironed clothing and perfectly soft waved hair, being ogled at, made her feel uncomfortably separate from everyone else.

‘Just this way, You’ll find he’s in quite a pleasant mood today, we’ve been able to better control his pain since you’ve last seen him.’ The nurse turned to face the Lady, with a sweet smile as they walked the extensive, dismal hallways.

The door was ajar, and from the threshold she could see a well lit room, far different to the rest of the hospital. There were bouquets of flowers scattered about, along with ‘Get Well Soon’ cards that were crammed upon the limited surfaces. There were excessive amounts of sweetmeats and sugary treats upon the bed and sideboard. This man had only been admitted the day before and he already received a hefty amount of goods. It wouldn't be long before he had to pack it all up and head home.

She had been loudly interrupted from her thoughts with a cheerful ‘What-ho sweetheart!’. The nurse was quite right, he was much more sprightly today.

‘I say, take a seat, this chair or that, you might even be allowed to perch on my bed a while!’ Snorting, he motioned towards a patch on his bed that wasn’t decorated with an array of sweets.

‘You look quite at home here. Should I be assured that they’re looking after you well?’ Her eyes were glued to his bubbly expression. It was quite surprising for a man who had been writhing about in pain on a muddy pitch the day prior.

‘Quite, quite, very well indeed. Though, I can’t ever seem to get any service here. They’re always ignoring me. I don’t ask that much of them.’

It was almost certain that he did, it could only presume that he wanted to be pandered to and pampered as though he was on the coast of France in some lavish hotel.

She could only look at him with a sense of pity, she only saw a man who was in a great deal of pain and was pushing through with a gleaming smile.

She found she was at quite a loss for words, sympathising with him wouldn't do as he'd only push himself to show he wasn't entirely helpless. This always put him in a worse state. ‘Do you know when you might be coming home?’ was all she could think of after the momentary silence.

‘Oh yes, yes, it was supposed to be today, but I’ve asked to be held on until tomorrow. Charlie from the club said he’d drive me home.’

‘You don’t want me to take you home? I can do it later today when Dobson gets back, he has the key to the shed where my car is-’ Again she applied a bright smile, hoping she could be of help. ‘You’ll only have to wait till 3. It’s really not that long darling.’

‘Gosh no, I don’t like it when you drive, makes me feel like a helpless sod.’

Lightly exhaling and nodding she looked down at her hands in her lap.

And again he spoke; ‘You’ll have to bring me a glass of water dearest, I can’t get the attention of anyone at this bloody hospital. And I'm bloody parched!' He seemed to let out a sort of huff; boyishly crossing his arms.

As she stood and started to walk, he shouted after her ‘Oh! And grab a doctor for me too, there’s something I need him to see.’

With a sweet smile and a light nod she turned on her heel, heading back for that ominous, dark hallway.

A short way down she found a small cupboard, one with a tap and a couple glasses and other bits and pieces to accommodate patients and guests.

Just before fetching a glass, she lent over and placed her head on the counter, with her arms cradling her head. She let out a long exhale to release some of the stress of the day. The exhaustion was starting to catch up, she could so easily have a quick nap with her head on the cold surface.

Finally gathering the energy to move, she lifted a glass and ran the tap, making sure she didn’t fill the vessel with lukewarm water.

Someone must have closed the door whilst she took her momentary rest, as when she turned she was confronted by the clinical white passageway that was firmly shut.

With a heavy push she dislodged the door from its threshold and found herself to be completely disoriented. Nothing looked the same. She thought that maybe she had taken a long route to this small cupboard and had simply forgotten the way she came.

She was completely surrounded by shelves upon shelves of supplies. There was only one other door and it was straight ahead. She turned again, wandering back inside the smaller room with the sink, studying her surroundings to see if there was another entrance that she might have overseen. Yet there was nothing.

She finally settled on advancing towards the opposite door, walking between the sets of shelves that carried an array of different peculiar items that resembled medical arsenal, none of which she had ever seen used before, but yet again, she didn’t spend much time hanging around hospitals to see what new advances were made in the field.

Just as she reached for the door handle, it began to pull downwards as a force was applied to the opposite side.

Jumping back in surprise and slight panic, feeling as though she had wandered into the wrong part of the building, she had no time to think out a possible explanation before the door was fully open.

The man that was stood there gave her a wide eyed look, appearing equally as perplexed as herself.

She quickly took in his figure, he was no doubt tall, taller then most of the men that she knew, and was scruffily dressed, she wondered if he might have taken a wrong turn too.

Taking in a quick breath she squeaked; ‘Are you lost too?’

‘No.’ He had a distinctive accent as he bluntly said the singular word.

‘I’m in your way, sorry, I’ll just-’ She peered to his side noting the direction she was heading.

‘How did you get in here?’ His eyebrow quirked.

‘Through that door.’ She pointed behind herself, his eyes quickly following her movement. There was nothing there. No door in sight, as though it had never been there to begin with.

She looked back at him in surprise ‘I could have sworn-’

With that he let out a bark of laughter. She felt ever so small and grew red in the face.

‘I must be tired, but I swear that's where I came from.’

‘No door there sweetheart, never was.’

Her mouth formed an ‘o’ shape, yet no sound came out. ‘I better get back to my fiancé.’

‘You haven’t answered my question.’ He attempted to stop her proceeding.

‘Well, I don’t really have much of an answer, because I certainly don’t remember entering through the door you’re standing in.’

‘This door was locked, did someone let you in? What you looking for, is it drugs? Could’ve just asked.’ Now she spotted his walking stick, he was leaning onto it, slightly blocking the way so he could continue interrogating her.

‘How dare you, I wouldn’t do anything like that.’

‘They all say that.’

‘Can I just get through? I need to take this to my fiancé.’ She raised the glass in her hand.

‘What ward?’

‘Somerset Ward.’ Her answers were getting shorter as she became frazzled by the constant questions.

‘Haven’t heard of that one before.’

‘It’s fine, I’ll find my own way.’

‘You still haven’t answered my question.’

‘Look, I really haven’t got a clue. Can I go now please?’ She gave a hapless sigh as she was getting to the end of her tether.

He stepped aside, yet seemed to follow her as she stepped into an unfamiliar hall. It was bright white, almost blinding. It looked like an entry to the hospital, one that she’d never seen before. There were people scattered everywhere, wearing clothing very different from her own. She turned back to look at her interrogator with a look of shock and slight horror. ‘What is this?’

‘A hospital.’ He started to limp away, towards what looked like a reception desk. ‘You coming?’ She could see him leaning over the desk having a bit of a natter with a person sat there. She slowly got closer observing every detail in front of her. The gadgets and do-dads that adorned each desk and clinical colours that decorated the whole room. She'd never seen anything like this before. She must've ended up on the other side of the building, maybe a more experimentative wing compared to the others.

She stepped closer to what looked like a reception desk, momentarily placing down her glass of water.

‘Name?’ Came a sudden voice that carried a very similar accent to the male that she had encountered in that odd cupboard. She couldn’t quite see, until a lady poked her head out behind a silver sort of implement about the width of a brief case or small luggage holder.

There, she gave her full name in the presence of this strange man, middle name and all. A pattering sound began, like one you would hear from a typewriter, but without the obnoxious ‘ping’.

‘Dr House!’ This woman bellowed, only now realising that he’d started to wander away.

‘Can’t find a name on the system.’

‘You’re trying to find my records? I’m not a patient here, I’m only visiting. Besides you won’t find it by typing, it’ll be in paper form, I thought that was the same for everyone?'

‘Sorry dear, Dr House told me you’d found your way off the psychiatric ward, your name isn't even on the database.’ This woman behind the desk looked directly into her eyes, showing vague sympathy.

‘You think I’m mad?!’ She cried at the ’doctor’.

He continued to move away, towards what looked like a metal cladded elevator ‘Would explain the confusion.’ He shouted over the room of, what she could presume were patients waiting to be seen.

She quickly jammed her arm into the door of the metal contraption before it fully closed.

‘I am tired, but I’m certainly not out of my mind. I think you're having a joke with this whole thing. Who set you up to this? It’s really not funny. Can you just tell me what part of the hospital I've ended up in and I’ll be on my way.’

Again an amused smirk graced his face ‘You’re in the clinic.’

‘Well I’d gathered that from the sign above my head, but none of this is recognisable. I’ve been to the clinic before but it didn’t look anything like this.’

‘You sure you got the right hospital?’ He seemed so disinterested in giving any useful information.

‘Well yes, I’m in London-’

‘Well there we go, you’d better find your way back onto the crazy people ward, you’ve forgotten what country you're in. Next it’ll be what year from the look of you.’ He glanced down at her dress, to him it looked outdated.

‘Can you stop that? Tell me seriously now.’ She appeared panicked, worse than she had been previously. She had hit the verge of begging.

With a sigh he gave up on the teasing ‘Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. You happy now?’

‘Princeton, New Jersey?’ Her hands were starting to shake, struggling to keep the elevator door open. She’d only ever seen this place in atlases that she used to flick through in her childhood home’s extensive library.

‘Where else?’

‘No no no no no, this isn't possible.’ She stepped inside quickly before the door slammed shut. Putting her face in her hands and taking shuddering breaths.‘You’re definitely not lying right? This isn’t a joke anymore. It's all very funny, but are you sure this isn’t just an American part of the hospital and you’re just pulling my leg?’

The doctor seemed to ignore her and continue to look straight ahead, both hands on his cane.

The door to, what she had now concluded was indeed an elevator, slid open and he stepped out. She hurried after him and as she began to walk beside him he halted, staring directly at the side of her head, fierce enough to burn holes into her skull.

‘You can leave me alone now. I’m not going to help you get a plane ticket or whatever you are pestering me for. Go back to the 1920s or whatever F.Scott Fitzgerald book you think you came out of. If this is some tasteful prostitution then give me a ring later. Goodbye.’ And with that he veered off into a room that was made up of mostly glass panels.

The door flew shut and finally revealed this man's full name and title ‘GREGORY HOUSE M.D. DEPARTMENT OF DIAGNOSTIC MEDICINE’

Though he seemed to be warning her, she still pushed forth, entering the office space ‘Aren’t doctors supposed to help people?’ She had never been so forthright, if she were back at home she would’ve taken that as a forewarning and scampered off like a scared mouse.

Dr House was now sitting hunched over at the desk, eyes glued to another one of those abnormal briefcase things that casted a blue tinged light over his face.

‘Are you not listening to me or are you just plain deaf? I said goodbye.’

‘I’m not taking that as the end of the conversation, Dr House.’ Her confidence was building, though it was most likely the adrenaline surging through her veins. She took steps closer to him, peering down at the jumbled items upon his desk. Odds and ends and many stacks of paper were littered about like a white blanket covering the entirety of the desk.

Her eye caught on one document reading today's date in the margain with a completely unrecognisable year. ‘2006’.

Her eyes bulged and her head seemed to be endlessly screaming. There was a fuzzy static sound that ringed in her ears and her breathing became short. Throughout the whizzing of her mind, she remained completely silent and still.

‘Patient confidentiality, don’t you know.’ He said flipping over the paper she had been gawking at.

‘Two-thousand and six.’ was what she muttered beneath her breath.

‘So you really are that deranged. The whole get up is all part of the act. Are you living out a fantasy or something?’

‘It’s 2006? It’s 1928, your document is wrong. I mean this could be a very elaborate joke or is this a film set?’

‘You’ll have to pay me overtime if you keep asking me all these questions. $300 and you’ll get the full package, what d’you say Marty.’

'Are you still insinuating that I am a whore?’ She now began to grit her teeth. ‘And that is not my name-' She was cut off whilst she was reprimanding him.

'I’m the whore here, I’m the one offering my body, Marty. Now, what would that make me? Doc Brown? nah, maybe a generational relative from the future. Really spooky stuff. What have you come to tell me? About my impending death or bad life choices? Because you're a bit late.' Resting his head on his hands he looked up inquisitively.

'I really don't understand-?' She spoke whilst shaking her head.

''Course you don't ' He pulled his lips thin, eyes widening and shrugging his shoulders. ’You think you're a time traveller and I’m here to tell you to head back down those stairs to where you belong, in the psychiatric ward.’

Her face twisted in disgust as he spoke such cruel, unadulterated words. She could feel the tears in the back of her eyes. No one was going to believe her, she barely even believed it herself.

‘What? Am I supposed to play along? Oops!’ His actions were so animated as he lifted a hand to his mouth.

He picked up what could've been a phone and brought it to his ear chatting with someone on the other end and began typing vigorously.

‘Looks like they'll have to book you in. No records here. Oh, tell you what, let's Google you, see what we can find.’

‘Google?’ She rubbed her forehead with worry.

‘What fun, you're still playing along.’ His words carried an underlying bite. ‘Here we go, nice, so you're daddy's an Earl and you live in a big mansion and have lots of money. I'm not surprised that you picked this woman to claim as your identity. It's full of all those fun parts. You've gone the extra mile too, editing a photo of yourself amongst your fictional family, how sweet.’ He turned the screen around and there was a photo of her and her brothers.

Gasping in shock she spluttered ‘How did you get that?! That’s a private photograph!’

‘How did you do it then, Marty? Did you change the whole of this Wiki page to suit you?’ He tutted.

Standing silent in the emptiness of this office was like torture. She bit her tongue to stop the tears and prevent the endless wrath of words she was holding back. ‘How could you be so cruel, Dr House?’ She shook her head. ‘I thought you were going to help me.’ Her words were wavering as she spoke softly.

He raised his shoulders once again lifting his hands up to display mock confusion ‘What is there to help?’.

And with those last few words she turned, flying out of the room.

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‘World Weary’ - Noël Coward 1928

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~ It was an early morning yesterday, I was up before the dawn ~

#House #Housemd #Housexreader #Gregoryhouse #Gregoryhousexreader #timetravel #1920s #x reader #reader insert #house x reader #house md #house md x reader #gregory house x reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

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AITA for yelling at someone, making them cry, and indirectly making them loose their friends

This happened several years ago but it plays on my mind sometimes. Everyone in this story is 15/16 at the time, in our last year at secondary school, UK. (🏎️ for finding this)

Myself, my girlfriend at the time [F], my best friend [B], F's friend [D], and a few of our other mutual friends were hanging out at lunch break. There aren't enough chairs at the table so F and I leave to go get extra. I come back and nothing seems amis.

Adding in some context now. No one in this story is cishet. We were all painfully awkward queer teens who haven't figured ourselves out yet. So we were all bottom of the social ladder, very much 'losers'. Me and F were, to my knowledge, the only 'same sex' couple in school. So by this point I'm used to people constantly making remarks about our relationship, but that's usually from ppl I didn't know or care about.

D is the only person, at this point, at school who's openly trans and genderqueer. They got a lot of hate for it. A lot of people harassed them and they didn't have many friends. I think for transparency's sake I have to say, I didn't really like D, we just didn't jell, but I made an effort to be kind and include them bc it's hard being queer in secondary school and I'm not gonna add more hate to that when me not getting on with them was my issue not theirs. And as a fellow victim of bullying I wasn't gonna exclude them from our friend group

Back to the story. As soon as we're back in classes, B tells me that D leant over to them while me and F were gone and said that it's "so sad seeing A and [OP] together" because "I took F's first kiss" and "poor [OP]". I trusted B's word on this as at that point we'd been best friends for several years, they weren't a shit stirrer, and had no reason to lie. In fact, they were confused D even said that to them since they were barely friends and knew B was best friends with me and would tell me they said that.

Hearing this really annoyed me. While I knew F and D had dated in the past, that didn't and shouldn't have effected mine and F's relationship in any way. And they'd been broken up well before I knew either of them. It's none of D's business who F kisses, and it's a shitty idea that because they'd dated before their later relationship first didn't mean as much. It felt very much like a dick thing to think never mind say about me and F. Also, B was my best friend, who did D get off to shit talking me to my best friend?

Anyway. Usually at the end of the day, several of us walked home together, and this group included D. I get to the spot we usually wait first and when I see D I confront them. I ask them why they'd say that and if they've got a problem with me. They don't deny saying it or really explain themself at all, they just look guilty. At first I kept calm. I knew D was F's friend and I didn't want to put a wedge in their friendship because of any issue I had with D. But, I keep asking why they did that, and if they've got something against me. If they're gonna shit talk me yanno. Then D starts crying.

I know it probably shouldn't have but this made me really mad. So I start yelling at them, saying something along the lines of 'so you're going to be an asshole to me and then you're gonna start crying?' and 'you started this, why are you crying?'. They start saying something along the lines of 'I didn't mean it like that' so I ask how did you mean it? And that they knew it wasn't something fine to say, because they said it behind my back and not to my face.

By this point, other people are watching, some of which were our mutual friends. I keep demanding they explain themself or at least apologize to me, but instead they run off crying. I don't follow them. If they're going to remove themself from the situation then fine.

People start asking what the hell that was about and I explain briefly to the people I knew and told the people I didn't to mind their own business. Someone I don't know tells me Ds gone to the head of year and I tell them I don't care, let them, I didn't do anything wrong. (This later amounts to nothing as no teacher ever comes to speak to me about this, so I doubt D did go to the head of year at all)

Eventually the people who were curious about what happened leave. All of the group who walk home together show up, including F. I explain to F what happened and they're upset that D said that about me, but wasn't happy to hear that D left crying.

For the rest of the school year, D ends up avoiding me. Literally staying out of my way, moving if I even glanced over at them. I thought they were overreacting. I never threatened them, and they were the one who chose to be an asshole first. I felt they were making this much more than it needed to be by avoiding it all together. We barely had an argument before they left, but anyone would have thought I'd attacked them or something. But because I obviously was always around F, D didn't have anyone to hang out with anymore. F was their only real friend and their other sort of friends were in our friend group.

No one told them they couldn't hang out with us anymore. (I'm pretty sure because they started avoiding me, I never ended up speaking to them again.) I know they still spoke to F still, but it seemed like their friendship was heavily damaged by it all.

D later ended up dropping out and finishing the school year through home schooling. I believe this was in large part due to the harassment they got for being genderqueer openly. (I remember on several occasions standing up for D and telling people to stop being transphobic assholes behind Ds back after this argument happened. Just because we didn't get along doesn't mean was gonna let that shit slide.)

I feel like I could be the asshole because due to this whole situation, D stopped hanging around their friends and through that lost a lot of the support they had. And obviously, I did make them cry.

On the other hand, no one stopped them from hanging out with their friends. They chose to avoid me and the situation. A situation they started by being a dick to me with zero provoking. They never apologized or recanted what they said. It's hard to feel bad that they lost their friends because they were being a shitty friend

Luckily, from what I know from friends of friends, D is doing better now and is around ppl who support them

This got a lot longer than I wanted but I believe I got all the details in there.

So, wita?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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misc-obeyme · 23 days

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Can we talk about Solomon...? Tbh in the OG obey me game i never found him interesting, that is until Nightbringer came out. He feels much more fleshed out here, and i think it's cute that both Solomon and MC share a living space together as if they're married.

I also find it very interesting that Solomon is based on the REAL King Solomon of Israel. There's so much lore surrounding him, and i find it kinda sad that the devs don't use it to their full potential to the plot. Of course, they make references here and there, plus his pacts with Barbatos and asmodeus, but i feel like they could do much more?

Can we talk about how biblical lore, King Solomon, also had (foreign) 700 wives and 300 concubines, and his greatest sin was in building temples for the gods that his wives worshipped Young Solomon is a playboy xD even though i'm sure he married all of those women for power, so it's more likely not out of love but more political expediency? and apparently, "his wives turned his heart after other gods” (Kings 11:4), and thus, he built shrines to the gods of their religions. In the biblical account of his reign, God tells Solomon he will punish him for his apostasy by breaking up his kingdom after his death. Seeing how Solomon is still alive in the Obey me universe, that would mean he had to witness his kingdom being split into two kingdoms (The people revolted against heavy taxes levied by Solomon and his son, Rehoboam). He also probably had to watch many people he truly cared about pass away. (Do you remember that one Gif in the OG Obey me that he was crying in front of a grave??)

BUT, as I mentioned before, since he had many wives, naturally, he had children as well. The documented children of his were Rehoboam, Menelik I, Taphath, and Basemath.

So maybe the reason why the devs didn't mention this might be because fans might get jealous? Seeing how many were upset when Thirteen (the first female character) was announced because they were threatened that she might be stealing the boys, I can see why they didn't include that information.

-Angsty Anon

It does seem like more people are enjoying Solomon since Nightbringer! In fact, the fic I wrote about Solomon shortly after NB came out was the first time one of my fics really took off - it got so many notes in the first day or so and I was so confused lol.

Anyway, I personally started to really enjoy Solomon's character in season three of the OG, but they definitely made him more prominent in NB! And of course I loved that he and MC were living together... it was so cute, nearly all my Solomon centered fics after that are about them in Cocytus Hall.

As for the Biblical lore, I can guarantee you it had everything to do with not wanting any of the love interests to have had any wives in their past. Of course, they don't explicitly say as much, so I think you could headcanon that Solomon still had all his 700 wives and 300 concubines.

I also think they don't go too heavy on the Biblical stuff for the reason of not wanting to offend people who actually believe in this as a religion. I think there's probably only so much you can really use if you want it to stay somewhat neutral in that regard.

By only loosely basing Solomon on the real King Solomon, they give themselves the space to do whatever they want with his character. They're not as bound by the source material. So they only pick and choose the parts they want to include.

I think they do this for the entire story, honestly, not just Solomon. For instance, who is Diavolo even supposed to be? I always thought he was supposed to be kind of a stand in for "the Devil" you know?

But anyway, I digress.

I think they kind of completely rewrote Solomon's past. Considering how he was said to be locked up in a basement as a child, after which he was brought to the Fountain of Knowledge by Barbatos... so when was he actually King? Perhaps after that? And maybe it was then that he would have had all the wives and such?

I definitely remember that particular gif... I made everybody upset when I suggested that it was MC's grave he was crying at lol. Sorry, guys.

But it could just as easily be a wife he actually loved or one of his sons. (Though how is it he only has four sons when he has 700 wives and 300 concubines?? I don't know anything about Bible stuff lol perhaps these are just the ones with names??)

Anyway, I'm fairly certain that people wouldn't like him to have all those wives and concubines. Maybe one wife could be handled, you know, because she'd obviously have been dead for a long time. But I dunno. People get jealous over the idea that Solomon was Lilith's lover, too. So probably best for the game if they just don't go there at all lol.

I do think it would be interesting if they introduced another demon that he happens to have a pact with. We never see any of the others, but I suppose that's more about a lack of space... it's not like they can add 70 characters... in fact, I take it back I am glad they've kept it to the two we have, no more are needed, thanks!

#can you imagine if Solomon had relationships with all those demons like the ones he has with Barbatos and Asmodeus?#like so involved and complicated #maybe he does he's lived long enough #but we don't have enough space for that in the game I don't think #obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me solomon #angsty anon #misc answers

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silverskye13 · 1 month

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I've been meaning to ask about this because I love love LOVE your writing but aren't really very deep into the hermitcraft fandom....

would I need to know anything prior to reading your hc fics? I've heard very many good things about redstone and skulk and I want to read it , but I dunno if walking in clueless is a good idea...

Oh. Hm. Well. I'm maybe not the best person to ask this, ironically. I have a hard time differentiating between actual common knowledge and fandom osmosis common knowledge. My thoughts under the cut because this might get long, but here are my, I guess, fandom initiation thoughts on my fics, for anyone curious?

Redstone and Skulk:

I think it can reasonably be read with little-to-no prior knowledge of the fandom. I do a decent job of explaining what the story is about, since most of it is original worldbuilding with (mostly) original characters. It's a mirror world, where in the main world death doesn't exist, but in the mirror world it does. All the mirror world characters are the bad parts / evil twins of the main world characters, and how they cope with that varies (and is sometimes explicitly stated). The first few chapters do a decent job of establishing this information, and I've had a few people mention RnS was either their first delve into hc fandom, or they had never been in the fandom and read it anyway because it came recommended by a friend. This signals to me it would be about like reading a sequel to a book series. You're clearly missing some establishing character stuff, and maybe some setting stuff, but you're not missing enough to be completely lost.

[basic knowledge of Minecraft mobs and game mechanics would definitely do you good, but that goes for all of these].

Monsters Splitting Hairs:

I personally think you can jump into this with no prior knowledge. All the characters are loosely based on the hc members they're named for personality wise, and place names [Octagon, Horsehead Farms] come from builds the players have made. Just about everything else is my personal world building though. The only upper hand knowing about HC will give you, is maybe cluing you in to who/what the different monster characters are before they're revealed [a la Rendog, who walks around with dog ears on his MC skin, is very obviously a werewolf in the fic.]

This fic is unfinished, and while I plan on finishing it eventually, it isn't being actively updated, and probably won't until RnS is done. It does have a lot of words on it though.

Hound's Tooth:

You need to know a lot of information to go into this one. Not only do you need to know a decent amount about the HC characters, knowing about both 3rd Life and Last Life is also kinda necessary, since the crux of the character motivation is Doc angsting over Ren doing Last Life after 3rd Life fucked up all his friends so bad the first time. Also, you need to know a decent amount about the early Octagon plotlines in s8 of Hermitcraft, the different adventure mode trial rooms they did.

This fic is finished.

Everything else I've written are ficlets, little one or two chapter deals. Anything tagged "RnS fic", you should probably read RnS before reading. Most of the others you need specific information for, since they're generally addressing topics that I had /just/ watched an episode for at the time, and I was responding to an idea or plot point being brought up. Anything with "Hels" or "Helsmet" in the tags or title, know it's about the mirror world and the evil twins.

[shrug]

I hope this helps?

#answering asks #anonymous #im glad you like my writing enough to try to read stuff out of your normal fandom sphere :')#thats very very cool of you #if you do give the fics a shot i hope you like them! and i hope theyre not confusing

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patternedlantern · 3 months

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Keep You Safe - A Marcus Moreno Statesman!AU

Pairing: Statesman Agent Marcus Moreno x Statesman Agent Reader x Agent Jack "Whiskey" Daniels

What’s this? Pat’s writing fanfic now? Well… no, not exactly. 😅 Consider this a loose concept for a fic that I’d want to write if I had a knack for writing, inspired solely by Pedro’s Emmy’s look. As soon as I saw it, it reminded me of Marcus Moreno and the costumes from the Kingsman movies. My brain’s been unable to think about anything else for the last couple days so I'm hoping that setting some of my headcanons free will help free up some brain space haha

Not really any warnings, it’s all pretty brief anyway. Highlights include: pining/unspoken feelings, fake dating, a love triangle dynamic that evolves into polyamory. The Boys keep their canon backstories for the most part. Reader is gender neutral.

The set up:

After sustaining an injury during his last mission, Heroic-turned-Statesman agent Marcus Moreno finds himself on temporary desk duty. He’s promised his daughter that he’ll stay out of harm’s way until he fully recovers. Desperately needing to feel useful while stuck behind the scenes, he's excited to receive his next assignment - as your new handler.

You have been a Statesman field agent for a few years now and have gone through your fair share of handlers - this isn’t your first rodeo. Nonetheless you appreciate Marcus’s unique experience and perspective as a former superhero. He’s kind, patient, and respectful, and the two of you become close rather quickly (while still keeping things professional).

While you’re away on missions, Marcus spends most of his time with Ginger, monitoring mission statuses and tech needs. His powers and weapons knowledge make him a good fit for the tech specialist team. Marcus and Ginger get along so well that their coworkers begin to joke that Ginger is his work wife. And yeah, they’re good friends, but she’s seen how he gets when you’re gone, steadfastly studying the wall of screens. He only has eyes for you.

Eventually, you get assigned to an undercover mission where you’ll be posing as one half of a romantic couple. Your lucky partner? One Jack “Whiskey” Daniels. You’ve worked with Jack a couple times before and while you find him to be a bit much sometimes, he’s charming and thoughtful under all the bluster.

Marcus, on the other hand, is apprehensive. He hasn’t met Jack yet but he’s heard the gossip around HQ about our flirty, larger-than-life cowboy. Ginger’s not-exactly-glowing comments about him certainly don’t help either, but she assures Marcus it’ll be fine.

Cue the mission with all its potential for tension and pining:

from Marcus having to watch the person he secretly has feelings for “fall in love” with someone else. Seeing the mission unfold and realizing that Jack’s not quite what his reputation suggests

to you actually slowly falling for Jack throughout the course of the mission (because it’s a fake dating story after all) but also having Marcus’s voice low and steady in your ear, always reminding you of his presence and the task at hand

to Jack knowing this is a fake arrangement (and that you and Marcus kinda sorta have a “thing” going) but wanting it to be real anyway, feeling his heart stirring for the first time in a very long time.

And obviously there’d be all the classic tropes. Couple practice. First kisses. One bed. A fancy gala. You know.

Maybe at one point, Jack becomes briefly incapacitated and Marcus has to step in and take his place for a moment to keep up ✨the ruse✨ Because they do look awfully similar from afar and who’s gonna notice really...

Something something the bond between two men, who’ve both experienced the loss of their previous partners, unexpectedly finding new love. The both of them witnessing the lengths the other is willing to go to to protect that love.

And then eventually the three of them work it all out and get together and fuck nasty. the end :)

#marcus moreno x reader #agent whiskey x reader #marcus moreno x reader x agent whiskey #Pat makes moodboards #and headcanons now I guess #headcanons? plot points? idk what to call them or what to do with them. I just need to get them OUT lol #no fic just vibes #possibly art or more moodboards at some point idk #keep you safe au #x reader

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howhow326 · 8 months

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Nino salt prompt: What if Rocketear had consequences

Basically, everything that happens in Rocketear happens the exact same way (Nino assuming the worst of Alya, Nino assuming Chat Noir is Ariana Grande, Nino breaking Ladybug's AND Alya's trust at the same time by revealing his/Alya's identity to Adrien, Nino slut shaming Adrien to his face on accident) except the very end of the episode, where Alya tells Nino she is now Rena Furtive.

Instead, Alya tries to reassure Nino that she will always love him no matter what, while lightly asking him "hey, you followed me to my house without permission and took a video of me without my knowledge, wtf?!"

Nino then proceeds to show his ass like usual ("I needed to protect you from that homewreaker!" "I'm your boyfriend so it's perfectly okay for me to stalk you!!").

Alya really dosen't like this side of Nino, so she asks if their relationship can go on break for a bit (and Nino tries to manipulate her more with his "you don't love me!!!" Shtick)

The next day at school, Adrien pulls Alya aside and jokingly asks her "hey, are you Rena Rouge haha lol".

Alya is horrified.

Adrien then gives Alya the full story: Nino wanted to convince Adrien that Chat Nior had seduced Alya and revealed their identities as proof that Alya was only now kerping secrets. Adrien wanted to forget he heard anything, but he decided to ask Alya anyway because he knew what Nino had done wasn't right.

Alya is now infuriated. She can't believe Nino had the gall to be upset about her secrets only for him to go behind her back and violate her privacy this way. Especially since what Nino just did puts his identity at risk!

Alya thanks Adrien for being honest with her. After school, she marches straight to Marinette's house and tells her everything. Alya thought her best friend would be even angrier than she had been.

Marinette is heartbroken when she hears the scoop. How could someone she trusts do that, especially after what happened with Chloe. Marinette decides that Nino news a new secret identity since Carapace has been compromised, but Alya orders her to cut him loose. Nino can't be trusted.

When Ladybug pulls Nino aside and tells him he can't be Carapace anymore because he revealed his identity, the only thing he feels is surpise. The boy really didn't think this was a possibility.

The realization eventually sets in and he gets akumatized. He becomes Shell Shocker and goes after Adrien for "ruining his relationships!" Adrien tries to encourage Nino to give up the akuma, but then Nino reveals he willingly accepted Hawkmoths deal... this is who he really is.

Ladybug, whith some assistance from Rena Furtive, takes him down. Nino tries to play it off, "oh uh, i was akumatized??? Thanks for saving me Ladybug!" But Adrien shuts him down right quick, "He's lying! He willingly accepted the akuma just to get back at his girlfriend!" Adrien calling him out like that takes Nino by surpise, but it's the least of his worries.

Alya secretly recorded the whole fight and posted it onto the Ladyblog. Everybody in Paris now knows who Nino truly is. All of his friendships are destroyed; Marinette and Adrien cut him off for good; and Alya finnaly dumps him. His family decides to leave Paris for his own good.

At the airport, Nino has a chance encounter with Chloe. "Well well well, if it isn't the loser who got exposed for working with Hawkmoth! Even when I did that fashion victim a favor, I made sure that nobody in Paris could see I made a deal with him. You're ridiculous, Lahiffe, utterly ridiculous!"

"Sh-shut up Chloe!" Nino stutters out.

"Waaa, shut up! God, even your insults are basic, bitch. Well, before you go, I have a new scoop for you Nino... News flash! Alya dosen't love you anymore, and it's all your fault!!! It's hilarious, utterly hilarious!"

When Nino finnaly gets to his new bedroom, he cries himself to sleep realizing that he ruined his own life because didn't think there would be consequences...

Edit: optional shipping: Nino x Lila, Alya x Marinette, Alya x Adrien, Marinette x Alya x Adrien

#nino salt #back on my bs #ml salt #ml salt prompt #ml salt fic #alya sugar #adrien sugar #marinette sugar #chloe sugar?#nino x lila #ninola #alyanette #adrien x alya #alyadrien #alyadrininette

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teddybasmanov · 2 years

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Since we all already know that I make lists in my sleep, baby I decided to make this too.

Alien ASMR roleplay recommendations

made by people who are to my knowledge not cancelled at the time of recording

Those are unfortunately far and few between and alien is the key word here - not just sci-fi, but necessarily containing an alien as at least one of the main characters. You know, the whole "never have I ever kissed a human" vibe.

These are all for gender neutral listeners and almost no yanderes.

Starline seasons one and two by the one and only Gav VA - two big series with a lot of lore and both plot heavy, first is a classical accidental abduction strangers to lovers, second is not less classical forced to work together enemies/rivals to lovers. Very lovely characters, adore both of them.

The Abduction series by Mage Bunkshelf - the last human alive abduction, a lot of confusion and cultural differences, yet again - the sweetest character, really want it continued.

The Specimen by The Storyteller - this is a legal abduction, everything is alright, you're being studied by a very excitable and flusterable researcher.

Alien Stranger part one and part two by Lyra VA - you're a badass and you're being rescued by the hottest and handsomest scientist with a V-neck going to his naval. He's really nice and lets you play with his hair.

Alien videos by Hollow_VA - unfortunately an unfinished series, loosely based on the "Alien" franchise about adventures with a caring alien on a space station where something very scary has happened.

Sadodere Pilot by Liu's Audio - you're semi-rescued by an alien pilot, who waxes philosophy and threatens to throw you out.

Alien Biomechanoid by Stygian Murmur - helping a big threatening looking guy after he had a crash landing and some negative experiences with humans.

Space Orc Series by Nightwatch ASMR - they're more afraid of you than you are of them - you're being studied by aliens, who treat you with caution.

Alien boy by Angels&Bread ASMR - a very cute alien saves you while struggling with the language barrier.

Center of the Universe and Alien Speed Dating and Abducted by a Kind Alien script fills by NaughtPlusZero - both are script fills, so you can find other versions of them. The first is sort of an isekai story, in which you're yet again being studied, the second is exactly what it says - speed dating a bunch of very different and interesting aliens, the third is a classical "abduction for your own good, let's be friends".

Encountering an Earthling (one, two, three) and The human touch script fill by Jupiter VA - in the series you're an alien, who tries to communicate with a human (and it's more difficult than you think); the script fill (yet again you can find other versions) is pretty sweet and explores the concept of an alien who has never experienced physical touch.

Intergalactic Dating Service by CardlinAduio - Cardlin has more alien audios, but not all of them are M4A and this one I just like more - a self-conscious alien thinks you're his soulmate.

Alien Interview and Alien Zookeeper by TheMusicalBoy'93 - the first one is the classical - abduction by a polite alien who wants you to tell them about humans and Earth and the second one... is why I put "almost" no yanderes up the - you're one of the last humans alive and you're being kept at a zoo by an alien who just has to be your sole owner. (I'm a sick bastard and I love it.)

The Space Pirates Saga one and two by Good Boy Audios - an extremely complicated series, very plot heavy, angsty, character dense and what not. It's difficult to say at this point who's the alien here.

Area 51 Cranial Nerve Exam by Jim ち ASMR - it might sound like a classical ASMR - even banal at this point - but it's not, it has a lot of details and a plot. Anyway, you're an alien who crush-landed in Nevada in the fifties and you're being tested by an Area 51 employee who's a little lost but has good intentions.

Feel free to add more!

#asmr roleplay #voice acting #gav va #mage bunkshelf #the storyteller #lyra va #hollow va #good boy audios #aliens #Jim ち ASMR

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evelhak · 7 months

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In regards to your ‘writer research’ post - do you think it’s possible to overdo it? How do you personally know when to stop, and consider the topic familiar enough to write?

I sometimes struggle if the activity takes place irl and not fantasy. I need to know locations, travel options and times between them, their overall background, vibe, etc. And in the end it’s like I’m planning my own trip down there :D I did get a few nice feedback words like ‘how did you describe it so well if you never been there’ but it can be overwhelming, and I had a few times that stories ended in that research phase because the scope of knowledge I deemed necessary became paralyzing.

I don't know if I will be much help for you in this, because my approach seems somewhat different. I don't think I've ever experienced the problem you mention, because I stay the hell away from anything that would require me to follow exact details as you mention. Timetables, distances, locations and means of travel all frankly make me want to put my head through a wall. I couldn't care less what those kinds of "hard facts" about reality are like, I write around them at all costs because they are not important to my stories. (If it is too important to leave vague, I will not be writing that story, for the most part.)

My style has always been to bend reality, which is why I pretty much always gravitate towards speculative fiction in writing. Apart from one realistic fiction book that I mildly detested writing, my fics are the next most reality bound thing I have written, and it's not really reality bound, because the source material is fantastical enough to allow some reality bending: things that wouldn't work as absolutely and consistently in reality have that power in the story's world. And I write it in a way that actively ignores factual details: technically my story is set in 2009-2011 so far but that's just a loose point of reference as long as it works for me. If I for example want a character to read a book that hadn't come out at the time, I just decide that in this version of reality it came out earlier, because why not? It's not like the background fabric of the story will ever be so detailed that it would tear from a book changing release date. You're not supposed to see the whole world outside the story's focus in such detail that something like that would affect the story.

So, my research is not about factual details, it's about principles. I basically just need to understand how the abstract rules behind things work, to be able to produce something. I don't care about replicating how any individual place on earth looks, I just care that I have seen enough places to be able to abstract the principles of how they might look similar and how they might look different, how the internal logic of their formation works, to then be able to create a new place from that foundation. When it comes to places, a quite loose understanding is often enough for me because it's just the stage for me, and I will bend it to whatever the story needs, I don't actually care about the place for its own sake. If it becomes dear to me it's because a character looked from this balcony over that forest when they discovered something about themselves, or something like that.

The principle is the same when I create characters, it's just that I require a much deeper understanding of how people work, because that's what all my stories are focused on. I want psychological realism on a much higher level. I don't need to understand sewer systems to write a story and only a really huge drive to tell a story about a character who lives in the sewer system could persuade me to research them.

Anyway, I understand enough about human psychology to be able to combine traits creatively and in a way that feels like more than a sum of its parts because I understand the principles behind them in a flexible way.

So when I'm doing research into any topic I need in the story, that's what I'm primarily looking for: a theoretical understanding, a foundation from which I can then create anything I need because I understand the rules, how they can be combined and where they can be broken as well. And I usually do read some actual theory other people have written, but a lot of the times I focus on reading people's experiences, talking to people with relevant experiences, and just observing people from the outside too, and then I abstract the theory that I need from that "database" of experiences that I've collected.

So I might read an actual parenting book if my character was going to have kids, but I would still focus on my own observations and talks with people who do have kids. The more complex the topic the more likely I would want scientific theory to contrast my observations with. But I wouldn't want to write it in a way that is supposed to represent a particular experience, I would want to create a unique experience that is nobody's experience, just like any individual person is, just fictional. It wouldn't represent how I would parent my kids, and it wouldn't represent how someone I know parents their kids, and it wouldn't represent millennial experience of parenting, or anything like that. It might have seeds of those things, and some people might relate to it and feel like it represents them, but that would be a by-product.

I don't think I've ever felt like I'm overdoing research, because the process happens so naturally to me. I dive into a topic, I gather my data from different sources and once my brain has reached the overall understanding it requires to match the level of detail that I'm going to want to be writing in, it just begins to create on its own. It's very intuitive for me. I seek to understand the "essence" of things, and then my brain just starts generating stuff from that understanding.

(Personally I think it's important that both abstract and concrete, real and fictional information goes into a writer's brain... It's just the same as an artist. You can generally tell when someone has only practised drawing from other drawings and not real life, and the same goes for practicing writing from other stories versus real life, but, I digress.)

However, I absolutely think it is possible to overdo research because everything is possible to overdo. In general I think if you feel like you can't tell what level of detail of understanding is enough, then you should probably take a good break from that project, because it sounds like you're losing perspective.

Not that I never lose perspective... Of course I have looked at a story of mine and realized it needs more or less detail about a certain topic. I guess I just don't "feel" it when I'm writing, or before it, because the level of detail I need to know is determined by the point of understanding where my brain starts creating. Sometimes I do have to tell my brain to slow down, that we should go back to do some more research before we write this particular thing... Usually my brain listens, haha.

In the end it's about balance. I sort of see it like photography: sometimes the background can be really blurry when it's a portrait, sometimes you have macro pictures of a raindrop, and sometimes a general view of a town where you can still see a lot of details is what you need.

Maybe if the problem is that you're not sure what level of detail of knowledge you need because you're losing sight of what the story is about, it could help going back to your title and premise. Is the knowledge of which olive oil this particular village in Italy uses on their famous Carbonara, a necessary level of knowledge in this story about a young lawyer falling in love on his vacation? Maybe, if the olive oil turns out to be a detail he uses to win a case later? What about if it's not plot relevant, even if the person he falls in love with is a cook? Probably not necessary, unless the characterization is somehow built around the person's taste in olive oil. It really just depends on the combination of functionality and your artistic vision what level of detail is enough.

Then there's also the option that you're right, maybe the story actually does need more detailed knowledge to work than is possible to require without first hand experience. If that's the case, then it has to do with what angle your story is written from. You can write a story that is set in a village in Italy without going to Italy, if the setting isn't the focus of the story. If you want to write a story about what life is really like in a village in Italy then I'd say you would have to have first hand experience. That's just a rule of thumb, though. If you were inspired by watching movies and documentaries of a certain place and wanted to write about it despite of not having been there, I'd say do it regardless if you want to. It might still turn out great or it might not... Regardless of that, the value could be in the experience too.

That's a lot of rambling... Don't know if any of that was helpful or just missed the mark completely. It's such a complex topic. And if you happen to be the kind of writer whose inspiration is driven by a detailed factual knowledge or with a desire to replicate things from real life, for example to give the reader a feeling as if they can really go to Venice through your book, or feel like they are sky-diving, or to go back to their childhood because you recreated the decade so accurately... then I am not the right person to help, because I don't have that talent. (Mine is completely based on making shit up.)

#writing

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wallspikes · 1 year

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Chapter 3

OK this ones a long chapter. almost 6k words. its to make up for the fact that I took over a year to post this sorry. i'm still trying to come up with a name for this! but i'm kicking around some ideas and I'm getting closer. anyway i don't think there's really any warnings for this chapter that arent like. hugely common in other borrower writings! tw bug death...?

LINKS TO PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Sunday, June 7th

11:43 P.M.

For certain this time, Weld was clean out of food.

The borrower lay stagnant in his nest, staring up at the dirt ceiling, watching the day pass as the sun crossed the sky, and the rays of light passed through the slats of his burrow’s hatch. He fidgeted with a piece of cloth he’d pulled from the pile he lay on, catching the corners of his nails on the loose threads he’d already managed to coax from the weave of the fabric.

He was hungry. The day before, he’d misjudged how much food he had left — one or two of the blueberries had gone too soft, and the quarter portion of the grasshopper wasn’t even enough to ration out into two meals — and after the trip had gone… sour… he hadn’t gotten the opportunity to take a detour to the blueberry bush to get a bit extra, nor would he have trusted himself to climb the thing either way, not with the state he was in at the time. He’d gone home empty-handed, and now he lay here with an equally empty stomach. It rumbled, as if to remind him. Weld grimaced.

The fabric in his hands started to unravel, and he subconsciously brought the remains to his mouth to chew on its frayed edges. He hadn’t properly chewed on anything in a couple of days and his teeth had started to ache in its absence — plus, it helped keep his mind off of how empty his stomach was, and kept his teeth clean.

He didn’t want to leave the house, not after what happened, but he had no choice. It was either he toughened up and took the trip, or he’d starve in his burrow and let the bugs and mice pick at his remains with no means to fight them off — one outcome seemed marginally better than the other. So, he’d wait for the sun to set and the rumbling of the footsteps and bicycle tires on the slats of the boardwalk to begin to die down, and hope he wouldn’t have to suffer another visit from the giant stranger on a night trip.

Weld shivered. He was always afraid of humans, or, a better assessment would be to say he was afraid of strangers, no matter their size. The fact that the human that had settled their weight over him, blocking out the evening sun, was big enough to pick him up and cradle him in their palm only added to his fear, leaving him petrified rather than in the state of awkward shyness he would tend to feel around the other borrowers he had met when he was a child. He was just more likely to meet a strange human than a strange borrower.

It wasn’t humans that scared him — he’d lived among them for twenty-five years now, he had seen them laugh, love each other, cry on one another’s shoulders, as he had with his family — they were just people, plain and simple. People on a different scale living a different life that he’d never truly understand, and the same goes for him. What did scare him was the uncertainty of it all, the lack of knowledge or control — the idea that he, in the end, had no say in whatever they decided to do, human or borrower.

He wasn’t afraid of the stories shared by borrowers for centuries, meant to humble and knock brave, young borrowers down a peg. His parents never really bought into those — though, they’d tell them from time to time — rather they’d bring their sons to watch arguments, and eventually fights, that the patrons of the mechanic’s shop would have with its employees. Watching two humans go toe-to-toe in real-time, or a frustrated mechanic fling furniture and tools around the garage in fits of rage were always more effective methods of intimidation — their terrific shows of strength always put Weld and his brother, Hal, on edge. But, on the other hand, he’d seen the same of borrowers. Not the strength, but the merciless fighting, or the obnoxious bouts of frustration, seemingly over nothing. In the end, who was he to judge a human if he knew nothing about them?

That wasn’t to say he wouldn’t mind if the human that had spotted him decided to come around for another trip. He’d mind that very much. One human always meant more humans, and he didn’t know if that was something he was going to be able to handle. Weld could run from one, hide himself away until it all blew over, but more than one would put his life on lockdown.

Chewing on his bedsheets wasn’t enough. The ache was still there, and his nerves only made it worse. Weld reached from his nest, plucking a flower stem from the bundle near his front hatch. He gnawed on its end, mouth flooding with the bitter taste of the water that leaked from the stem. His stomach rumbled again. He was getting impatient.

By the time he pulled himself from his thoughts, the bustling of humans finding their way home after an evening of friendly revelry quieted to the familiar drone of the night. Weld took pause, realizing the time, reddening a bit at how long he’d been entranced by his memories. Looking down at his hands, the flower stem had been rendered to a limp, mushy mess, covered in bite marks and shredded fiber, staining his palms a bright green. He grimaced and tossed the refuse at the foot of the ladder — he’d bring that out later.

The borrower stood, raising his hands above his head in a long, satisfying stretch, accompanied by a tired whine as he lowered himself back to his nest to wrap his feet and pull on his boots, slipping on his shirt in his typically clumsy manner — finally, poking his head from the neck of his shirt, he forced his hair to lay flat. He gave his gear a thorough once-over, making sure nothing was out of place, no ropes were frayed, canteens were full… he sighed. No food, and no hook. He’d forgotten about his hook. His grapple would have to do. Hopefully, he wouldn’t run into anything too big.

Swinging his backpack over his shoulders and shoving its latching button through the loose eye-hole of the worn leather strap, the sand-colored cloak was next to follow, draping over his shoulders and wavering with each slight movement of his body. The disguise had done him well for the past couple of years of his life — better to hide the stark-red cotton of his shirt — blending into the sand at a moment's notice if need be. Maybe it wouldn’t work quite well enough for the finely-tuned eye of a human, but maybe he would get lucky. He hadn’t exactly had the confidence in the garment enough to put it to the test.

Weld opened the hatch just enough to peek out and scan the area, then shoved his nose up into the little gap to smell out the area, too — nothing around but plants. A relief, but maybe a bit disappointing, he thought as he completed the climb up the rickety bamboo ladder, past the hatch of his burrow and onto the solid ground outside. No suspicious smells meant no special dinner, though he supposed that was a good thing — he was out a hook, after all.

Without big-game hunting gear, his first order of business would be to find an ant. Preferably, one of the big, black ones that measured up the size of his hand, though, the finger-sized red ones would do just fine. He could skewer it through the middle and suspend it on a thread as bait, hoping the rest of the hill would do as they always did and return to pick up their dead, falling victim to the borrower’s little trap he’d created a few human-feet from his doorstep — a deep pit, about his height, lined with discarded vinyl from the bottoms of surfboards and slickened with bicycle oil, a grass-woven net pinned over the top fitted with holes just wide enough for an ant to easily squeeze through on its way in, but struggle to find its bearing through on its way out.

He was proud of his trap, and even prouder of how successful it tended to be. His catches would make for good soups, slowly boiled over a low flame with stalks and flowers of dandelion, or seared in his beer bottle cap pan until it sizzled with a dark char. Or, in a pinch, Weld wasn’t above sinking his teeth into the hard shell of an ant, chewing through the crunchy exterior to the sour, almost zesty taste of its innards — a flavor the borrower was rather fond of.

He pushed through the heavy brambles of bamboo and weeds atop the dunes, skulking along the plants as he listened for any too-loud movement that never came. He’d hoped his trusty trap at the base of his residence and dune would have dinner secure within an hour or so — given the circumstances he even found a few ants, or even just one, chittering to themselves at this time of night.

With no bait suspended from the line, the weaved trap was empty, just as he suspected. Weld sighed, but turned his head to his next destination. The boardwalk, another few paces away, was sure to hold something living beneath it. The borrower wasn’t picky. He’d eat whatever managed to stumble into his path, granted it wouldn’t kill him — there was no food that Weld couldn’t tolerate enough to starve.

He ran his hand along the salt-dried beams of the boardwalk, and stared past the wooden slats at the stars. He liked this time of night. Just late enough for most of the humans to have found their way home, and the air could stretch into the silence, as if to take a much-needed breather from the noise of the day.

If he could stand here forever and not worry about the ever-growing ache that tugged at his stomach and grew in his teeth, Weld would commit himself to watching the stars and listening to the distant crash of waves against the shore, or learning to cook more than just his mother’s ant soup and bottlecap-charred bugs.

But he couldn’t. His stomach grumbled again, and he was pulled from his thoughts by the buzzing of wings — short bursts of flight that disturbed the weeds and kicked up grains of sand. A beetle, Weld determined. One of the green-brown ones with the oil-slick patterning and the little pair of antennae that reached out above its eyes.

He turned on a heel, planting his feet in the loose sand to find a firm footing as he listened for the next intermittent buzz of the beetle. As soon as it came, Weld sprung into a dash towards a patch of moving bramble where the beetle must’ve just landed, thankful he’d already taken off his boots and tied them to his backpack by their laces — he’d learned quickly enough that it was harder to run when his boots sunk into the sand. When he broke past the weeds, there was another flurry of movement from his dinner, the iridescent bug lifting its antenna from its lazy probing around in the sand to flick its head in his direction, and rev up its wings for another burst of flight.

Weld was on it before its transparent wings could flit from beneath its exoskeleton. He pressed closed its elytra, his hands on either side of its bucking body as it clacked its mandible at him, alarmed. He supplemented a hand with a foot against one of its flanks as he reached quickly for his grapple, and wrapped the hook and rope around its belly — past wriggling legs and sharp claws, restraining its wings tightly to its abdomen so all it could do was buzz. Weld bent the beetle’s neck, and with his two longest teeth, pried the exoskeleton from its head until its legs no longer kicked.

He smiled to himself as he held the beetle to his chest. It was fairly small, and couldn't have been larger than his own forearm, including his hand. He could make it last a few meals if he tried; he plucked its spindly legs from its body and wrapped it in a blade of nearby crabgrass before stuffing it into his backpack.

The beetle would make an easy roast. He could cook it over an open flame and scoop its congealed flesh right from its exoskeleton, and hope he had some extra left over for later. The little bit of meat in its legs could boil down to a broth, given he could find some herbs to toss in with them. Weld’s stomach eagerly rumbled. He thought he remembered where some chickweed and wild onions grew. Weld pushed a little deeper into the weeds, his search for an ant forgotten in hopes of something better.

Footsteps fell a few paces down the boardwalk, each step deliberately slow, rolling from heel to toe as the perpetrator did their very best to be as quiet as possible, despite their size. Weld froze. He slowly pivoted his head in hopes to get a glance at whoever had just approached, but the sickly feeling in his stomach practically told him all he needed to know — they stood just inches away from where he’d first been discovered by the human, shining a light into the gully where he had lay vulnerable. For all the weeds in the way of his vision, Weld couldn’t say for sure who the human was — until a familiar voice called out. “Hello?”

Weld bolted, the dune grass in his path a dead giveaway of his location, but he didn’t care. It was already too late — there was a heavy thump into the sand behind him, and the creaking and cracking of weeds and branches snapping underfoot as the human followed hot on his heels. He felt his heart choke him as it leapt into his throat, the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the bile burning in his stomach.

And then the dunes gave way to a wavering wall of green webbing and a bar of metal, all in one seemingly effortless motion.

Weld watched the netting fall around him, tangling up in the weeds and the dune grass in seconds — trapping him in the lush landscape with no way of exit. For a moment, he could feel his heart stop, as the aluminum handle dropped to the sand and two heavy footsteps landed just in front of him, two hands coming down quickly at their side. One was wrapped in bandages Weld realized as the human leaned on their forearms and stared down at the fruits of their capture with stars in their eyes.

Weld scrambled to find purchase beneath the rim of the net, digging at the sand to find it only forced his prison deeper into the ground. The human’s hands cleared a few of the weeds they had trapped alongside him, and curiously peered past the netting. The borrower didn’t hear the first few words that came out of the human’s mouth — rather, he didn’t process them. The buzzing of his ears seemed to drown out the frantic blabbering of the giant that loomed above him, their eyes making the skin on the back of his neck burn an itching heat. Weld backed away, gripping the metal rim as the human’s words slowly became apparent over his heaving breaths.

They’d straightened up by now, gesturing wildly in the flashlight’s glow, tugging at the bandages until they unraveled to reveal the swollen bite mark Weld had left on their hand from yesterday. “—kinda why I came out here,” Weld began to understand the human’s rambling, “Well… it wasn’t at first, but then the bump wasn’t gone in the— it doesn’t matter. You were cool, I wanted to know if I was insane, yada yada yada. That’s… uh… that was the main reason I wanted to come back out.”

Weld conspicuously tugged at the netting behind his back, rarely taking his eyes off of the wound. Looking at the tender, red skin of the human’s hand, Weld almost tasted the coppery blood on his tongue, and felt the warmth of their skin. The sensation made him gag.

“This bite isn’t gonna kill me, right?” The human suddenly questioned, panic in their voice, “‘Cause, it’s, like, not going away, man. And I don’t wanna have to go to the hospital and tell them that some little guy bit me. ‘Cause, that gets you in trouble, and it probably makes me look crazy…”

Weld realized, with some matter of satisfaction, that the events of the day before had been putting the human through their own bout of distress — though, he couldn’t help but wonder if he should’ve let up on his bite a bit earlier. He never thought it would cause that much of a reaction on a human, of all things.

“Are you sure you don’t have venom or anything?” they nervously itched at the spot, “Nothing that, uh, limits my life expectancy to forty-eight hours, or something?”

The borrower froze as the human went silent, waiting in earnest for an answer — one of the affirmative, that Weld was non-venomous, and the reaction they were having was completely harmless. But he couldn’t simply speak to clear the air about the bite — the borrower rules may not have been a proper part of his upbringing, but ‘no talking to humans’ meant no talking to humans, whether it was a borrower’s rule or his father’s rule.

He spared a glance down at the human’s hand, clasped in their other palm as they held it at their chest. He steadied his breath, which had turned into ragged panting throughout the conversation, and anxiously tangled his hand up in the net even further. To the human, he responded with a curt nod.

They paused. Sat back on their heels. Straightened their jaw and shifted their eyes. “Um…” they started, a slight quiver in their voice, “Is that a nod, like, ‘yes, I do have venom’? Or…?”

Weld quickly shook his head, lifting a corner of his lip while he did so to bear a set of sharp fangs, trying to communicate to the worried human that his teeth had no method of releasing venom as snakes did. Just pure, unadulterated bone.

The human stared for a moment, then heaved forward with a heavy sigh, their body deflating until they rested on their forearms in the sand. “Thank god, dude,” they ran their fingers through their hair, “These bites were, like, super freaking me out.”

The borrower jumped to his feet, scrambling back to cradle himself in the netting — anything to get away from the human.

“Here, look, let me let you out,” the human perked up, propping the flashlight up against their backpack before slowly digging their hands beneath the metal rim, “I’m sorry about the net. I was, uh, debating bringing the thing last night, but then I worried I wouldn’t be able to talk to you… kinda harsh, though.”

Weld could feel the netting being lifted away, letting the relief of an exit wash over him — before he felt a sharp pull at his arm as the man’s former prison reached out of range. In all of his incessant worrying at the cords of the net, tugging at individual fibers in the meager hopes he could unravel them enough to tear a large enough hole to slip out through, Weld had found his arm twisted up in the human’s artificial webbing, like self-afflicted handcuffs.

Strung up by his wrist, Weld couldn’t help the strangled yelp that escaped past his lips as his feet briefly left the ground. He reached for his grapple, hoping the little, sharpened hook would be enough to slash through the netting that kept him suspended — but the hurried movement only exacerbated the borrower’s struggle, the rope tightening until the skin around the area pinched white.

“Ah!” the human exclaimed, gently lowering the net back to the sand, though with the forethought to place the lot of it off to the side enough so as not to keep the borrower beneath it, “Sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t see you were so… stuck!”

Weld had yet to speak, hesitantly sparing a glance up at the human who had now leaned to loom over him with worried eyes. He sawed at his bonds, the barbs of his grapple catching on the netting at each push-and-pull, only forming little knots from the fibers each point loosened. Dread made his efforts more frantic as his plan continued to fail, and the matted knots of green nylon around his wrist only grew larger.

The borrower slumped to the ground, defeated, and he could feel the burning prick of frustrated tears finally come to his eyes — they fell before he could blink them away, a few rolling down his cheeks and catching in the thick of his beard. Weld watched the shadow of the human encroach overhead, and one of those massive hands slowly inched towards his webbed arm.

“Hey, alright,” the human spoke softly, and taking the chance of a distraction, slipped a hand behind the borrower, “Stop squirming for a minute, I’m gonna try to untangle this thing. But you got yourself pretty stuck, so, uh, it might take a while.”

Weld felt those fingers on his back again like he had the day before, and his body fell frighteningly still. He could feel the cushion of fresh medical wraps around the human’s palm, and the incessant warmth that, as always, started through them. But, more pressing was the sudden pressure on either side of his wrist as an enormous index finger and thumb caught it in a pinch.

The human heaved a sigh of relief at Weld’s stillness, and shifted their hand to gently hold his atop the pad of a fingertip. “Good! This is— okay,” they took a deep breath as they leaned forward, and started to gently tug on the first nylon knot, shifting the excess of the net off of the borrower, “Sorry, I know I got you into this. With the… net and everything. But, uh, I’m gonna get you out of it! So please, just relax… and trust me…”

Weld held his tongue between his teeth. He watched with wide eyes every move the human made, his back beginning to ache as he refused to lean against their hand, though glad to no longer be surrounded by the green netting. Every part of him was stiff as a board, agonizingly tense with adrenaline for the unpredictability of the giant stranger — who, for right now, had held him gently in their palms the last two times they had met, though he never knew how quickly that could change. The warmth was overbearing, a stifling heat as if the human held the very air around themself in an atmosphere of their own, and he couldn’t stop the other half of his brain from reminding him how these stories usually ended.

He hated that feeling, that fear that he was going to be hurt; Weld knew nothing about the stranger besides that they were human, and something told him he couldn’t judge the content of their heart based solely on that. But he couldn’t help that his nerves buzzed every time the human touched him or stared at him for too long — it was just… instinct.

His breath caught tightly in his throat as he stared past the human’s glasses and into dark-brown eyes, their gaze too focused on the borrower’s predicament to notice his intense studying. Two fingers gently tugged on his wrist with a strength he couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Weld decided, despite his unfamiliarity with the human’s values, he didn’t like being held very much.

“My name’s Gio,” the human started, after a brief pause to clear their throat, “Uh, I don’t think I’ve actually said that yet… I’ve done all this to you and I haven’t even given you my name yet, ha— but, I guess, there it is.”

They pulled each nylon thread across his skin — back, forward, tight, loose — until the fibers left red lines in a cuff around his wrist. Weld couldn’t help but stare them right in the face as they continued their work, watching for something to change in their expression of tongue-biting focus.

The human, or ’Gio’, as Weld had learned, caught the little, staring eyes of the borrower, and quickly lowered them back to the sand with an awkward laugh — all attempts to ignore the absurdity of the situation, despite having been the one to cause it. Weld’s breath hitched every time one of their fingers reached from the palm at his back and encroached within his personal space to graze curiously against his body. But, he never could unfreeze himself from his spot — not so long as the human still kept his wrist in a gentle pinch.

“You don’t happen to have a name…” the human started, daring to steal a glance at the borrower, “Do you?”

Weld held their gaze, regardless of that burning sensation at the nape of his neck that made his stomach turn. He nervously tugged at his trapped wrist, and his expression twisted to a hunted grimace. Everything felt terribly wrong, sitting captured in a giant’s hand and being asked questions so casually, like nothing was the issue — yet something in him, past the bile that rose in his throat and the sickly look on his face, wanted to nod. The answer was short, small. Just one, nearly imperceptible movement — up and down.

But even the smallest movement was enough for Gio. The human’s smile cracked from ear to ear — to Weld, a painfully toothy sight that filled the whole of his vision, and sent a prickling heat through each strand of wiry fur across his back. They stared for a moment longer, just enough for Weld to realize he couldn’t take it for another second as he began to tug on his entrapped arm again. “I figured you did,” they exclaimed, voice hushed, turning back to the work at hand, “Everyone has a name. My real name is Giorgio. Most people call me Gio — you could, too, if you want… I actually prefer it — but my mom still calls me Giorgio.”

The netting tugged roughly on the borrower’s arm, and Weld responded with a sharp grimace. Gio lightly hissed, and mumbled an apology. “Um… I don’t think I’m gonna be able to untangle you like this,” they admitted, sheepishly raising their gaze from Weld’s surely-by-now welt-covered hand, and the borrower decided he didn’t like where this was going. The human reached one hand away and patted at their backpack, until they pulled out a folded-up knife, “But I could cut you out of it…?”

Weld was weighing his options as he stared at the utility knife in Gio’s hand, luckily still hidden away in its metal frame. But, as he stared at the handle of a folded blade that nearly sized him up, from what he could tell, Weld considered which option made the sickness in his stomach settle the quickest — continued manhandling by a giant, or the cold sting of a blade against his skin, for just a moment? He paused, as if to consider something again… then his free hand grabbed hold of the netting and tugged on it with a pointed stare at Gio.

The human cocked their head. “What? The net?” They tightened their grip on the knife, then their face lit up in realization, “Oh! Yeah, the net! I’m gonna cut the net! Not— not your arm!”

Weld drew his body away from his arm, sticking the offending limb in its tangled mess as far from himself as he could before giving a stiff, hesitant nod to the human that loomed above him. They opened the knife with a sharp click — Weld’s hair stood on end, and he grimaced as he hung his head low, refusing to watch as the human lowered the tool to level with the delicate limb that he held out of the net as a hopeful sacrifice. Both of the human’s hands fell heavily around him — the air becoming humid and hot as the cool metal connected with his skin, lodging itself beneath the tangle of the net while Weld pitifully pressed his back against the soft palm surrounding him, a watering eye squinting open with morbid curiosity to watch the scene before him.

The pocket blade — a bit dull near the ends and scratched from whatever business — sawed at the net, the serrated bit at its center catching the filaments of the green webbing and doing most of the human’s dirty work, back and forth until Weld could almost begin to feel a line of raw, red skin form on his arm where the back end of the knife had left an irritated scrape. A few of the cords snapped, Weld noted with a soft gasp, and he could begin to wiggle his arm free — but the powerful pinch on his forearm convinced him to do otherwise.

“Just a little more…” Gio promised, and Weld forced both his eyes open to stare at the human who, just for a moment, went back to their tongue-biting face of focus before they decided to speak again, “I am actually really sorry for, y’know, getting you into all this…” they murmured, not taking their eyes off the work at hand as another few pieces snapped, “Is there any way I can make it up to you? Help you out a bit?”

Weld thought back to the scarcity of his shelves lining the storeroom of his burrow — the driving factor behind this trip in the first place — and furrowed his brow. He didn’t much like the idea of taking food from a strange human, especially not after they’d caught him in a net and he’d sunken his teeth into their skin just the day before, but the risk of starving was even less savory, and the offer was staring him right in the face. He wiped his eyes of their watering tears.

Gio brought their knife through the last cord of nylon, and the borrower was pulling his arm free and standing to reel a few steps away from the human before they could even give the go-ahead, “You… beat me to it!” They sighed, sitting back on their heels, and stowed the pocket knife in its place in their backpack, “Um. I guess that’s a big, hard ‘no’ on the help thing, then, yeah?”

The borrower paused, weighing his options once more before hesitantly raising his hands to mime the gesture of biting a piece of food — grasping the air in front of himself and lifting it to his mouth, taking an exaggerated chomp out of the imaginary meal.

Gio cocked their head, and squinted a bit at the sudden display. “…What?”

Weld mimed the action again, this time more insistent.

“Oh!” Gio tapped their head, “Watermelon.”

He had to try a different avenue. Weld pointed at the human’s backpack, just off to their side, and took a cautious step towards Gio’s shoe.

“My backpack?” Gio glanced at it, “There’s not much in it. Kinda just, like, the typical stuff; water bottle, bug spray, pocket knife, a snack, my house keys—“

Gio was distracted by the pantomime borrower whose superstition was proven right. He brought his hands to his face at double speed, and this time the human copied him.

It clicked. “Food!” Gio exclaimed, “You want food!”

Weld couldn’t help his relieved sigh, and the slight smile that cracked along his lips, if only for a second. He nodded.

The human’s eyes glimmered with excitement as they quickly rummaged around in their backpack, barely taking an eye off the borrower. “You smiled!” They laughed, “Just barely, but— but you did! Here, look—“

A loose fist was swung down in front of him, grasping a peeled-open bar of food that Weld only slightly recognized — the families on the boardwalk beside his home would carry them along, and the men at the mechanics would pack them for their lunches. Weld jumped at the sudden approach, but leaned in after a second when the sickly-sweet scent overwhelmed his senses. It reminded him of honeysuckle.

“It’s a granola bar. It’s got, like, ah…” Gio pulled back the packaging a bit, ”…peanuts, oats, and chocolate. I think they’re pretty good. So, dig in!”

Weld inched forward, eyeing the bar and the fist that held it, then plucked a whole peanut out of the sticky sugar with both of his hands. He gave the human a lopsided grin.

“Do you want more?” They asked, shrugging, “If not, I’ll probably just eat the rest. No use wasting it.”

The peanut was set aside in the sand in the face of a better goal. Weld reached out for more, trying this time to break off a chunk of the bar much bigger than last time — about the length of his forearm, both across and long. The grains that messily crumbled into his hands he quickly brought to his mouth, while the rest was stored away in his pack. He turned his attention, again, to the peanut, its sticky coating covered in grains of sand, but easily picked off despite it all. Weld gnawed at the sweet snack, finding a spot he felt comfortable enough planting his feet to pause to eat, although he was charged to dash at a moment's notice.

The human smiled, seemingly satisfied that the borrower hadn’t fled the second he’d gotten his hands on what he’d wanted. They splayed a leg out in front of them — slowly, enough warning for the borrower to step carefully out of the way of the massive action, and another forewarning as the other leg followed — until they were sitting just a few feet across from the little redhead. They took a bite of the remaining granola bar, tapped once on the device sitting idly in their lap, and shrugged.

Weld got the feeling this night was going to last longer than he had once hoped.

#borrowers #g/t #g/t writing #gt #giant/tiny #weld #gio #oc stuff #writing

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mochiwrites · 10 months

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oh please do share about the miraculous ladybug finale I wanna know what they did this time

-🎵

I love how I made that post about it and then just never talked about it LMAO

doing that now, so !!! I'm gonna preface this with at the time of me watching the finale, I had NO idea that there was going to be a season 6 jfghfjghf I legit thought that season 5 was the final season because that's what had been discussed in previous years (as far as I'm aware anyways) so my thoughts and issues with the season finale were bc I thought we were ending after season 5

now onto what I had issues with! :D

my biggest issue was that it was only ladybug who fought with hawkmoth (or monarch as he's eventually called). like the show has sidelined chat noir PLENTY of times before in the past, and as a chat noir enjoyer it's always been very frustrating. but not having him involved in the finale????? having marinette be the ONLY one to know the truth about gabriel and adrien's family??? bro that is going to tear that poor girl up inside

and also there are SO many loose ends that haven't been tied up (again, this was something I had issue with before I knew about s6). like it would've been really great to have that verbal confirmation that adrien is a sentimonster other than the implications with gabriel's rings and felix and kagami's story to marinette. I don't know if anyone else felt this way but I was a tiny bit confused by the story they told to marinette???? it's like they hinted at the confirmation rather than outright saying it.

aND THEN GABRIEL BEING REMEMBERED AS A HERO. BRO. BRO. HAVING ADRIEN SAY THAT HE WANTS TO BE LIKE HIS DAD..... HERO OR NOT THAT DOES NOT CHANGE THE FACT THAT GABRIEL WAS A SHIT FATHER TO HIM??????

all of that being said. when you throw in the knowledge that there's going to be a season 6, a lot of this starts to make sense?

specifically this "perfect world" that we see all of the characters in after gabriel makes his wish. I mean just earlier in the episode marinette says that you can't have a perfect world, but we as humans can use our humanity to find the perfect human and realistic solution to a problem. and then we cut to this almost dreamy type paris after, and I think you're meant to be heavily off put by everything because it feels too good to be true. it's supposed to leave you feeling weird and I think with adrien especially you're supposed to raise a brow.

and this is just me being hopeful but I sure do hope that we get a proper finale. where it's ladybug and chat noir fighting together and we get a proper ending.

ALSO I WAS SO??? DISAPPOINTED AT NO IDENTITY REVEAL??? like okay now it makes sense that they didn't reveal their identities because the show isn't over, but before I knew about a s6 I was so ????

and yeah that's pretty much it. I've been following this show since I was 13 I think, and the writing always leaves so much to be desired man. miraculous is truly a case where the fandom can collectively write the show (and characters!) better than the actual creators of the show can.

but those are my thoughts about the finale! again, most of them were made because I thought the show was ending after season 5, so knowing that there's a season 6 coming a lot of my grievances have been put to rest jgfghfgj but in the moment I was so "what the fuck?????"

#mochi speaks #🎵 anon

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sneakydraws · 1 year

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HIIIIII THIS IS MY ANALYSIS OF MY OWN GOLDFINCH LYRICSTUCK SET TO ZANIM PÓJDĘ BY HAPPYSAD IT IS HERE IF YOU WANT TO SEE IT

disclaimer i wrote this on my flight without actually looking at the video so translation might not be 100% the same but yknow. Also I wish I could include all the photos in this analysis to make my points clearer but I think even tumblr's new liberal photo limit wouldn't allow that lol ok let's go

How much do I owe you?/how much did you charge me for your friendship?/but once I have given it all back/will you be happy and free, or-

This is kind of the framing device of most of the rest of the song, with the painting being taken and returned by Boris. I'm personally fully obsessed with exploring Boris's guilt and his need to repay Theo for this theft, so the pictures basically drew themselves when I heard these lyrics!!! And this sets up the lyrics being from Boris's pov, which for the most part will stay consistent until the end

Will you be happy and free, or...

Man these are so good for Theo, too good even!!! He's given the painting back - the freedom of the bird being a major theme in EVERY discussion of it - but he is neither happy nor free, because he's trapped by his trauma from the explosion as well as all subsequent miseries, one of which is the internalised homophobia that shines in his relationship to Boris. That's why these lines serve as a transition to their parting, because it weighs heavily on Theo's mind. I originally had an idea to not depict Theo leaving straightforwardly, but rather show teen Theo and Boris in the place of their adult selves -

(a la this scene from revolutionary girl utena, or this other one from kung fu hustle (lol))

- to show that their relationship now is forever marked by the past.

But before I go/ But before I go/ But before I go, I want to tell you that:

Admittedly this complicates the pov because it's still more Boris's lines even though he's not the one leaving - but in a way he is, because unlike Theo who HAS to run away from Vegas he's choosing to stay behind, therefore being the one to abandon Theo and not the other way around... I really like how Boris came out in this shot btw, he's got this really sad and knowing/understanding look because I do love to take Theo's claim - that he knew Theo loved him - at face value. I think it muddles their relationship in an interesting way, to have Boris know about Theo's feelings but basically not act on that knowledge until the very final moment, and of course his knowledge of the painting's whereabouts plays into this too.

Love is no teddy bear or flowers

I play pretty fast and loose with the song line-scene associations. In the song, the narrator is obviously using symbols to describe love, whereas I often use the symbols to literally match the lines to scenes and often make more of a statement that this or that relationship isn't "really" love. I do feel like that's a little unfair, to imply that Theo and Boris's is the only relationship of real love in the story - but, well, artistic license! Anyway, this is Theo's first visit to Pippa's bedside, with all the condolences and get well gifts she's gotten from friends - I put a wilted flower on her table as a reference to the card Theo gets from his grandparents! Anyway, Pippa will come up again and again here because of course she's someone Theo """""loves"""""" where the exact nature of his feelings is more muddied. Theo himself describes it as between love and not love, which I'm extremely confused by. Lol

It's no horned devil, either

I went back and forth on whether or not to include tom cable, but I think it's kind of fitting here, since with only a slight stretch of the imagination you could conceivably call him Theo's first (semi) romantic relationship. And it's a decidedly toxic one, too, with basically all the worst parts of his relationship with Boris and none of the good parts (hence the unflattering devil comparison). And they're kids here because this first verse is all about Theo's life pre-timeskip. In case it wasn't clear, they're on their breaking into people's vacation homes adventures!

Or love, when one cries and the other tramples on them

Felt fitting to include Theo's parents here, since it's generally so easy to carry subconscious ideas about what relationships look like with us into adulthood based on our parents' behaviour. Theo does kind of half heartedly admit Audrey had her flaws, but the overall picture is that of pretty one sided abuse or mistreatment on Larry's part.

Love is no film in no cinema, or roses

I had to include Theo's obsession with old movies somehow! I didn't want to imply that his and Audrey's love for each other wasn't real, so I again tried to go more for a "getting ideas about love from the wrong places" angle. I would've liked to include a film Theo mentions directly - I considered citizen Kane - but he doesn't really bring up romances much :/ a friend suggested Dr no only for me to remember that Dr no is actually very important to the plot in completely different ways lol. So I went with Casablanca instead!

Or kisses, big, small

Pippa again! I love that we get textual confirmation that not only was she Theo's first kiss, but he hadn't even held hands with a girl before lol. In rereading this scene I realised they were still connected by the iPod earphones, which I thought made for a really cool visual... I went with my favourite intense rim lighting as well to make it looks more dramatic B)

But love - when one falls down, the other drags them upwards

THIS was the line that really made me go wild. This drawing was the first one I came up with in the whole project - one of Theo's blackout drunk suicide attempts. The image of Boris dragging him away, taking care of him best he could in those moments - genuinely heartwrenching, as is the fact he never brought it up until prompted years later. Anyway it makes for a real good parallel with the repeat image but I'll talk about that later.

(I actually had to butcher this instrumental section a bit because it was longer than I remembered and I didn't have anything to put on screen so people wouldn't get bored or think it froze or that it's finished ahahaha)

(Apologies, happysad. Hopefully no one noticed)

How much do I owe you?

This is of course their reunion post timeskip - and I had a LOT of alternative sketches for this part, including two takes on the iconic eye thumb brush -

- but the specific moment I was referencing is this line where Boris half seriously asks if Theo wants to hit him.

It's kind of a jokey but secretly vulnerable moment - Theo probably thinks Boris is just worried he might be harbouring resentment about Boris not going with him, which probably seems like a ridiculous idea to Theo - it was so long ago, who cares. But Boris is convinced Theo knows about the painting and is genuinely afraid Theo might be completely furious, even planning revenge.

How much did you charge me for your friendship?

Straightforward - Boris feels guilty and like he has to pay Theo back, and of course dealing with Theo finding out that the painting was swapped at all is something he wasn't prepared for at all. I tried to convey Theo's utter panic and disorientation in this scene with the warped perspective and squiggly text <:3

How much were our words worth

I love the scene where Boris drops off popchyk!!! Love love love it. It really showcases Boris's desperation, his guilt, his earnestness - although its end suggests that he might be putting on a show a little bit! And of course he's always talking, talking, talking, skirting around the topic one moment and drowning Theo in fervent promises the next. It also has a moment of what I believe to be the closest they came to kissing again - when Boris looks at Theo's lips and seems "on the verge of rushing in" with something before Theo's frostiness freezes him out. Btw, most of the antiques in this drawing are based either on items from the historical handiwork exhibit at the National Museum in Kraków (my favourite exhibition, I go see it every time I'm home) or my grandma's crazy kitchen/living room full of antiques!

when we tried it all anew again (x2)

Some instances of Boris clearly falling back on their old camaraderie and habits, and of Theo catching himself almost following suit - first at the engagement party, then during the painting handover.

And btw lemme just say I had way too much fun putting stuff in the foreground in this project lmao, the hands of the negotiators were a particularly fun touch

But before I go

Aaand hard cut to the parting in the car! Again, Theo is technically the one getting to his feet in leaving, but it's Boris who's forcing their separation and urgently trying to get Theo to listen and go.

But before I go

Theo's famous letters, and the infamous nonexistent letter to Boris... I've seen theories that he doesn't write one because he believes Boris to be dead, although my initial (somewhat callous) read is that he simply isn't thinking of Boris in his final moments... I guess I went with the slightly more rose tinted option here, of Theo thinking of Boris, or rather of all the people he's loved in his life.

But before I go, I want to tell you that:

I wanted to convey Boris's desperation - I love that Theo mentions the tears in his eyes! - and Theo's utter disorientation, and I also framed it in a way that kind of suggests a kiss might follow, like in the previous use of this line... But instead we get Boris pushing Theo away, another show of love you could call it.

Love is no teddy bear or flowers

I tried to insert subtle parallels between the repeating lines in the second and first verse! Again we have Pippa, but rather than literal teddy bears there's the piles of objects Theo's compulsively collected for her. She's not even in the frame, because Theo's obsession kind of erases her personhood in favour of, uhh, plastering an image of his dead mother over her

It's no horned devil either

Though this scene is about kitsey on the surface, I welcomed the opportunity to feature cable like in the first verse! Especially since it leads to an interpretation of the scene that puts Theo's feelings about tom alongside, or even over, his feelings for kitsey. It also features reflections just like the line in the first verse! Mamma mia I've outdone myself

Or love, when one cries and the other tramples on them

And here is my absolute favourite narrative parallel - that between Theo and his father, again with the concept of repeating our parent's mistakes and dysfunctional patterns. Especially fitting in this scene because it's one of many where Theo makes the comparison directly himself.

It also again includes a door!

Love is no film in no cinema, or roses

No clever parallel here but I had to include this scene, especially since Pippa and Theo's obsession with her is so important...

Or kisses, big, small

The performative kiss to end all performative kisses! And all these book kisses really make me think of how they're all goodbye kisses. In other words, I am once again thinking about the "all Theo does is leave" post

But love - when one falls down, the other drags them upwards

And the second part of that parallel that struck me hard and basically motivated the making of this lyricstuck! Admittedly it's a bit annoying that this is a film only scene, since I took care to be as book accurate as possible everywhere else, but I simply couldn't not include it... The poetry of Boris saving Theo's life again and again - not by jumping in front of a bullet for him (although he kind of tries to do that, too) but by painstakingly tearing him away from suicide...

That's amore!!!!!!!!!!

Here’s some alternative compositions because I high key STRUGGLED to pick - some were vaguely Pieta inspired which I liked? but in the end I went for a shameless movie redraw lmaooo

#the goldfinch #boreo #tgf spoilers #HERE YOU HAVE IT!!!!! i love writing about my process god damn #feel free to shoot if u have any questions btw i feel like i might have forgotten some stuff

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killingick · 2 years

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CHAPTER 2 — GREED ♱ JASON THE TOYMAKER

❝ 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐋𝐄𝐒 ɢʀᴇᴇᴅ ❞ ༄

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐤𝐲

𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙨𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙗𝙚 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙮 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐏𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰

𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝

ᴛᴡ: ꜱᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴇ

You'd been infatuated with the blonde haired toymaker.

Everything about him stood out in a way that appealed to you, how no other could.

For starters, his clothing choice was one that was eccentric, though reflected the stories he'd had compiled on shelves in the forms of memories behind those emerald, green, eyes; He'd spent more time on this Earth than most of the mortals of your generation had even lived to see, and collected garments which he'd pridefully worn to reflect such.

Resultingly, he'd seen it all, felt it all, had it all and was the hardest person for you to please.

Mimicking his work, you'd created something from nothing. Pricking your finger with a needle and drawing spirals and petals and flowers on a white canvas, which you'd gifted to him to show your admiration towards the man, he'd only scoffed and brushed it off, seemingly being no where near impressed with your attempt to satisfy him.

It often hurt to see your hard work go to waste.

No matter how hard you'd tried, you were never able to conjure up anything for the man that would impress him.

With eyes that had stared at the Earth as it aged for two whole centuries, he was more keen to educate you with his knowledge and impress you with his antics, than he was to accept these pitiful gifts that he had seen and made himself long ago.

"Selfish fuckin' cunt." The black haired killer spoke as he'd allowed the sharp blade to dance along his fingers smoothly.

Jeff had been unlucky enough to watch you effortlessly tear yourself apart for the man, to not even receive a glance in return. It angered him, seeing the person he'd grown terribly fond of hurting, because the toymaker had better things to see, than pay attention to the only person that was open to listening to him.

Your lower lip trembled as you stared down at your feet, eyes welling with tears for what'd felt like the hundredth time this month. You'd really tried... truly, but with every attempt you'd felt lonelier, and embarrassed for thinking the man would have a change of heart.

You'd met the toymaker at a time when you were desperate.

You were lonely, seemingly neglected by anyone that crossed paths with you.

When Jason found you, he'd acknowledged you, and you'd listened to the toymaker profess his love about his rotten illusions, which'd seemingly appear to be the most beautiful creations in the eyes of a mortal.

He'd never really offered you a time to speak or enlighten him with the few things you'd thought were interesting about yourself, but you didn't care. You were just happy enough to have someone pay attention to you.

A year had passed since that day and you couldn't help the way your heart fluttered at the thought of the man smiling at you, or praising you for the work you'd wanted to give to him.

You'd wanted this man to love and appreciate you, but apparently that was too much to ask for.

At first you'd understood and dealt with it, but as time went on you'd cry more and more.

Even though you'd befriended Jeff along the way, you were already far too attached to Jason to look for that kind of worship from another person.

You'd wiped away a loose tear that had slipped as you'd wallowed in this emotion.

"He's not selfish. He's not a cunt. I'm just not enough for him and I never will be." You'd spoken almost as though it was an affirmation for yourself, which would repeat over and over in your head.

The smiling killer gave you a side eye, unsure of what to say that could be of any use to you in that moment. Emotions were never really his strong suit anyways, so he just played with the knife in silence.

"I'll talk to you later Jeff." Without a further glance, you'd left, progressing further into the dark woods.

You'd felt worthless.

And though you'd known it would've been better for you to work through this sickening emotion, you couldn't.

You were tired of trying.

The long trunk of the tree creaked loudly as you'd tugged on the stray piece of rope with all your might, tying it around another branch as you'd stared blankly at the small loop that dangled from it. Gently twirling in the gentle breeze.

You'd long ago silenced the warning voices in the back of your mind, that aimlessly tried to reassure you about how much you were really worth.

As you climbed up the trunk of the tree, you'd accepted the fact that you'd never really be able to feel content with yourself until the person you'd practically worshipped was pleased with you.

And if that was something you were never going to get...

...

You tightened the rope around your neck and silently sat in thought.

Your blank gaze piercing at the dirt of the forest floor below you that you were never actually going to hit, or touch again.

A soft breeze kissed your skin as if to bring you the sense of comfort you had constantly been denied. And as you embraced the cool touch of nature, you slid off the branch.

An eery creak was heard as you dangled, struggling profusely against the rope.

You'd fought desperately to keep your hands at your sides but couldn't help the frantic yelp that left your lips as you clumsily clawed at the rope around your neck, until your body finally grew limp and weak.

The Toymaker smiled as he'd felt his heart sink to a depth he'd never felt in his chest.

You were beautiful.

Like a doll, limp and lifeless, ready to be moulded to the user's desire.

Your corpse fascinated him, and though painful may have happened to be the best gift you could have given him.

He was like a child.

Egotistic, only willing to show praise towards the work of his own because he craved the attention you would give him.

Now he could only wish that he'd stopped acting so snobby and showed you how much he'd actually appreciated your efforts to give him the grandest gift of all.

He'd collected them all.

Every time you'd grow anxious, dropping it on the floor of his workshop and storming off to cry about his ignorance, he'd pick up and store every gift and trace his fingers along every part he'd believed you'd touched to sate his desire for you.

You were as precious to him as he was to you, but he would never say that.

And as he gently freed your lifeless body from the constriction of the rope and laid you in his lap on the forest floor, he sighed.

His fingers cupped your chin and he opened your mouth to speak, miming words as though they were actually coming from you, responding to him as he once again aimlessly went on about himself and nothing else.

Gloved hands stroking the messy locks of your hair, before he froze mid-sentence in silence.

Choking on a sob, he pulled you into his chest letting out cries that echoed throughout the dark forest to be heard by nobody.

Once again, he was alone.

Just like he had been for two hundred centuries and maybe many more.

𝚆𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚙𝚊𝚍 ✟ 𝙳𝙾𝙾𝙼𝚂𝙳𝙴𝙰𝚃𝙷

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fateinthestars · 6 months

Text

Probably about time for another one of my rambles with the forbidden/blessed scales I got for each God...

... Or Seven of them in this case.

Yes I want to cover Musings on Love briefly before I move onto the Promise of Infinty Stuff.

I'm gonna blank out whose is whose in the collage versions below and then reveal them from most blessed to most forbidden under the cut, with maybe some thoughts about the path. Spoiler warning, obviously.

There'll be comparisons to their Main Story result (My post on those is here) and their Sequel Story result (My post on those is here) but as it's only just over half of them I can't see how to include these in the rank calculation I started last time.

Right that's way too much rambling, let's get on with it.

Okay one more thing I want to get out the way quickly: Why seven of the Gods? I could get six, that's half of them. By doing seven they've gone one over half and also made it so there's one more Musings On Love story for Punishments.

Anyway!

1. Dui

Postion in Main Story: 11th

Position in Sequel Story: 1st

Dui's actually only two notches up from what he was in the Main Story, and four down from his sequel, but it's still juuuust enough for him to stay in front of the two in equal second. Also Musings on Love is only 4 episodes plus the ending, so three episodes less than the Sequels (which in turn are 5 episodes less than the main path), though to be fair I haven't counted how many actual interactions there are so it could still be the same.

Regardless, I'm supposed to be talking about Dui.

I think ouch is the word here. Whilst his sequel helped conclude what actually happened to his friend, and hopefully finally get the heavens to stop being so judgy, seems some of his friend's family needed a bit more of a push to accept what had happened.

This rounds his story off nicely though, and off the top of my head I can't think of any loose threads, meaning Promise of Infinity could concentrate more on Dui himself (themself? Hmm...)

2. Teorus

Position in Main Story: Equal 5th with Partheno and Krioff

Position in Sequel Story: Equal 7th with Ichthys, Leon, and Scorpio

His meter here is actually exactly the same as it was in the Sequel route, which was actually down on his Main by three notches.

Still though, I stick by what I said before that I like Teo more in his later stories, even if his possesiveness is still way too much.

Considering how easily Teo can get lost, and let's face it he's definitely not the brightest of them, the fact that his power is over time is pretty dangerous, especially when in this one it turns out when he was younger he accidentally tavelled through time into the future.

Actually if anything in this one (other than his aforementioned possiveness) it's MC I want to throttle. I think I worked out pretty early on what was going to happen, and when the special clothing requirements for the Planetarium's stall at the event were revealled it was very clear from what I recall.

They were both jealous of their own selves in this. MC is a moron but she at least didn't know it was her.

I guess it's also a bit strange if you think on it for too long. (Teo's 'Constellations of Love' DLC is arguably a better Time Travel story)

=. Scorpio

Position in Main Story: 12th (Forbidden)

Position in Sequel Story: Equal 7th with Ichthys, Leon, and Teorus

Well well well, it seems the Scorpion is keeping up with the Fairytale Prince.

No but seriously, I say I'm happier with Teo in his later stories? I'm faaaaar happier with Scorpio in his later ones.

This... this is just... 🥰 Scorpio finally finds out what family dynamics actually are, MC sympathises with how he is acting and even has a chance to snap back at Zyglavis, and yet it somehow all works out and Scorpio is saved from making a terrible mistake, but also with the knowledge that MC also gets upset at such acts.

4. Zygalvis

Position in Main Story: Equal 3rd with Tauxolouve

Position in Sequel Story: Equal 5th with Hue

Oh, and talking of Zyglavis, here he is! Right in the middle of where he was before. He's consistet if nothing else. His meter has dropped another couple of notches though.

Zig really doesn't make things easy for himself. At least there's no trials or threat of anihalation in this one... just the potential destruction of the world.

Oh wait. That's worse.

The detail I like the most in this is actually in the ending. I don't want to spoil it just in case but I will at least say it has something to do with his unique power.

For a Zig story where their relationship causes the issue, this arguably has some of the sweetest moments from him in it. Again especially the ending (I will admit it may have been a bit too long since I read some of these ones all the way through. I've been jogging my memory a little ^^;; )

=. Leon

Poisition in Main Story: Equal 8th with Aigo and Karno

Position in Sequel Story: Equal 7th with Ichthys, Teorus, and Scorpio

O-ho, what's this? Sheesh no one tell them they're sharing the same rank on this one it'll cause an argument for days!

That aside, I think I misjudged Leon. He acts with the jerkyness I think you probably would expect from someone with a unique power like his but... it seems his non believing in love wasn't just him not understanding but others treating him differently because of his immense power.

If you told me that there was a storyline in the game where one of the Gods was lonely... I think Leon might have been one of the last, if not the last, to even enter into my thoughts.

Also Zig? That was a bit of a jerk move on your part. You knew what you were doing when you framed your own past vision that way.

6. Huedhaut

Position in Main Story: Equal 1st With Ichthys

Position in Sequel Story: Equal 5th With Zyglavis

Note: The meter does end in Blessed here.

Oh... Oh Hue. Let's just bind the ties of fate even more together shall we? Ouch.

I'm not sure actually being Clotho for a bit (albeit in the past) will have helped how Hue's Promise of Infinity path goes, but it is a way to give more of the backstory on that without more dreams and also as MC is still there post what happened we get to see how Hue was really truly feeling.

As I say, OUCH.

But this does lead onto the Promise of Infinity and I warn you now... when we get to that I'm going to launch my full anger at the King.

=. Ichthys

Position in Main Story: Equal 1st with Hue

Position in Sequel Story: Equal 7th with Leon, Teorus, and Scorpio

Note: Also finishes in blessed meter like Hue's

Is Ikky messing with me? I swear I don't recall/didn't feel I was doing this badly with his sequels. Then again... I might have gone back through this one a bit? I've no idea.

Anyway geez talk about a massive mistake. At least it all got fixed. It was sweet watching him and MC having all these Deja Vu moments but not quite knowing why.

But sheesh, if the Heavens has a department for changing histories like this, maybe that's why certain things in certain routes aren't the same!

#star crossed myth #Star-crossed myth spoilers #star crossed myth review/character rambling #scm #scm ramble #scm leon #scm teorus #scm huedhaut #scm zyglavis #scm scorpio #scm dui #scm ichthys

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