#also apparently men in dresses lead to break down in society

[limitlessgojo]

Blood Bound: Blackened Bond (Ch 15)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood

Previous Chapter: Big White Lies

Next Chapter: 土御門天皇 (Tsuchimikado)

Tags: Kamo Noritoshi x Reader, Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife @lordguameow @track5enthusiast

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, and specify if you're okay with NSFW posts or not, please mention it in the comments below ty ❤

Chapter 15: Shadows Fall

You numbly sat down on your bed. The room was dark. Your Phoenix brand, silent, a dull sepia stain on your inner wrist.

It hurts a lot.

“He’s no different to the power hungry elders of this corrupt society after all huh.” You were disappointed. It was dumb of you to give your heart away to him. Especially to a man who was already planning on taking in concubines, this early into your “relationship”.

You checked your phone to see the notifications. Mai and Miwa were looking for you, saying that you have dinner out with them in a few minutes.

'Ah, that was supposed to be for tonight' you thought.

"Sorry can't go, feeling unwell. You guys go ahead." You texted back to them as you slumped on your bed.

After a few minutes your door slammed open. "Where have you been?!" Mai asked, but stopped talking upon seeing your red rimmed eyes. Miwa peeked out behind her. "Are you okay y/n?" She asked.

That question absolutely crushed you. You started sobbing again, not being able to hide your shaking shoulders. The two girls filed in and closed your door.

"We are ordering take out. Miwa go ahead and cancel that reservation. We will stay in tonight." Mai said. "Right!" Miwa worriedly replied as she pulled out her phone and made the call.

"I'm not here to baby you. You will tell me what happened, okay?" Mai demanded.

"I need a few minutes" everything looked so blurry through your tears, Mai and Miwa only looked like unfocused blobs of dark green and bright blue. Literally, the only way you could distinguish the two girls at this point was by their hair color.

They couldn't get much out of you other than you talking about how Kamo-san never liked you in the first place and how you pushed yourself onto him.

The girls held you as you cried. They couldn't believe what they were hearing. "But both of you looked great. I'm sure Kamo senpai really liked you though?" Miwa questioned out loud.

Mai just nodded her head. "I said it before already. Both of you act like you're so oblivious to each other's affections. But I do agree that you put more effort into the relationship. He always turns down your request for dates off campus. Even an outsider could see that."

"No, no it’s not that. You guys know how the big 3 clans operate. He just felt that I was a suitable wife to bear his heirs. They're jumping at the chance to use me to get a blood-manipulator jujutsu shi who may also possibly inherit my psychokinesis technique. I don't want to stay in a relationship without any love in it." You whispered.

Your voice was all gone after you sobbed for hours. The fight and energy just drained out of your body.

They couldn't say anything to that as it was your relationship with Kamo and not theirs. That night, they slept over in your room, the three of you squishing into your queen sized bed and plushies.

◇◇◇

On the other hand, Noritoshi had woken up from his nap, bedhead and red rimmed eyes and all. Clearly remembering all your painful words. He looked over to the side, staring at the Jade dragon pendant atop his bedside table. A small pink letter resting beside it, one that you had given him days prior.

‘Dearest Toshi,

You must be exhausted from all of your extra tasks given to you by your clan as of the late. I hope that it gets better soon, I’m here if ever you want to talk about it or if you need any help with that. My family and I are open to supporting you in your endeavors, though you haven't met them yet. Hiroki nii is especially excited to meet you, I can already see the both of you getting along quite well. Whenever you’re ready <3

Have a good evening.

Love, Y/N.’

He felt tears burn behind his eyelids.

“It was too sudden, I couldn’t even understand half the things she said to me earlier,” he murmured to himself. He racked his brain, trying to recall the things you said. It was mostly a blur to him.

Something about what he and his father talked about yesterday. That wasn’t an issue, it was mostly clan duties as per usual.

Also, how he never liked you. Well, he hasn’t confessed yet, but he couldn’t see why you’d bring that up out of nowhere when everything was still fine 2 days ago.

Concubines. The talk on concubines. Why did you- Oh. “... from yesterday” Noritoshi’s head was getting clearer and clearer. You must have misunderstood the conversation he had with his father, and left before it finished. It didn’t sound pretty now that he thought of it.

He had that single-minded goal of pleasing his father and the elders, but somehow you got tangled in the mess.

He sighed frustratedly. It always seemed to be the case with you jumping conclusions about him, didn’t it? Now he has to clear it up with you before it gets too bad.

◇◇◇

You woke up the next morning feeling and looking like utter shit. Mai and Miwa had to dress you up and drag you out of bed.

“There’s only one thing you can do now Y/N.” Mai said as she straightened out your collar. “Get over him.”

Huh. Easier said than done.

◇◇◇

There was a drastic change in your behaviour towards Noritoshi. The name "Noritoshi-senpai", that you had always cheerily called out, was replaced by a short and curt "Kamo-san" whenever conversation was necessary. Also, you don’t look into his eyes anymore.

You avoided him as much as you can, thanking yourself for knowing his schedule so well. Not hesitating to turn and go around in another direction if you ever saw him approaching from a distance. Because of this he rarely sees you on campus.

It hurt Noritoshi badly to see you act this way. He never realized just how warm you were with him until now that it was all gone. He tried to catch you during your breaks, calling out your name with the same tenderness he always had. But it was in vain as you ran away from him.

Todo and Momo wisely chose not to make any snide comments, upon seeing how downhearted Noritoshi was in the following days.

Everybody avoided eye contact with both of you if and when you had to interact. It couldn't be helped. The tension was like a fine piece of glass waiting to shatter.

The pain in your heart didn't subside at all. You've taken to staring at the mark on your wrist.

'Did I successfully reject our bond?' You wondered hollowly.

Sometimes you half expect your mark to start flashing wildly, like whenever you and Noritoshi have off days with each other. But this is the first time you've seen it so… silent.

You wrapped it up with more darker velvet strips and ignored it.

It was the opposite on Noritoshi’s end. He would lie in bed and stare at the mark that is dangerously bright red and hot. It almost felt painful, like someone was searing a brand onto his skin.

He wrapped it up in gauze bandages and put salves to soothe the mark. But it was never enough. He needed you back.

◇◇◇

During one afternoon, you just finished an English lesson with one of the windows who teaches at Jujutsu High. You stood up from your desk and turned to see the man outside of your classroom.

"Y/n, are you free for lunch?" Noritoshi had obviously sprinted as soon as his lessons had ended. “We need to talk.” All 4 of you looked up to see him outside the classroom, as composed as ever. But he looked terrible.

There were shadows under his eyes, and he seemed to have gotten thinner. The shitty side of you was cruelly happy. Good that he’s like this, because he lost his toy. Good on him. But your heart was sad, yelling at you to go back and take care of him already.

"Ah I'm sorry, but I've got lunch with the rest of the 1st year's here." You politely declined. Trying to school your face into a neutral expression.

"I insist." He firmly stated. He looked over to the other students. "You don't mind if I borrow her do you?"

You inwardly scoffed at his poor choice of words. The stupid arse still thinks I'm his belonging apparently. Something to be borrowed and used.

But Mai stepped up. "If she doesn't want to hang out with you then she doesn't." Miwa was fidgeting worriedly. "Now now." She started.

"I really wanted to have lunch with my fellow 1st years, if you could please excuse us Kamo San." You hastily uttered, pulling Mai's arms towards you while turning away. The other first years followed your lead.

But Noritoshi was determined. He quickly put his hand on your shoulder, only for you to slap it away and flinch from him. Everybody froze.

You were clearly trembling, which made Noritoshi lower his hand and step back. "I'm sorry y/n." Whether the apology was for holding you without your consent or for everything that happened, you painfully let it slide. Silently bowing to him, then quickly walking away with the others.

Noritoshi could only watch wistfully as your figure disappeared from his view.

◇◇◇

"The nerve of shitty men," Mai angrily stuffed her mouth with eggs from her bento. "Thinking they own women, that they're better than us. It was like this with the men in my family as well. Bullying and kicking aside the weaker women."

You sadly poked at your food. It was katsudon. You ordered it ahead of time from the cafeteria, wanting to perk up with a favorite dish. But today it tastes so bland. It wasn't the cooking that was off. Just that you had no appetite.

"Wouldn't you want to talk it out with Kamo senpai, y/n?" Miwa asked. Truth be told you were adding fire to the problem. You just dumped your anger on Noritoshi and kept rudely cutting him off before leaving him.

But your pride and broken heart didn't allow you to go back to him. "I don't think there's anything left for me to say or do to be honest. I'm not in the mood to face him. At all." You lied.

Mechamaru surprisingly spoke out, "Love is a fickle thing. And it's a fact that women are more in tune with their emotions than men are. But I think you won't regret it if you give him a chance. Kamo Noritoshi isn't a bad man."

Mai huffed. "Whose side are you even on?"

"There are no sides. Just two idiots who are madly in love with each other." Mechamaru dryly replied.

Your heart clenched, but you stayed silent, not denying the fact that even after you pushed him away, you still loved him.

"Let's talk about something else shall we?" Miwa hurriedly changed the topic and started discussing the homework to be done.

◇◇◇

Hiroki was both the best and the worst brother you could ask for. Because he chose this time to surprise you with a visit at Kyoto High, claiming he wanted to see how you were doing with classes and that he would stay for a while.

Secretly, he wanted to meet and gauge Noritoshi, only to find out that the both of you have just broken up. You brought him into your dorm room to have a chat and some snacks.

“WHA?! YOU- You ended things with your soulmate?! You were together for like what?! 4 Months?” His jaw dropped as you told him the entire story.

You gave a drawn out sigh. “Hiro nii, I’m done. Like… He… I dunno anymore. To be honest I broke up with him in the heat of the moment.”

“Tsk, you’ve always been led by your emotions. That’s why you’re so reckless half the time sis. You didn’t even try to talk it out with him.” He asked as he opened a bag of chips.

You stayed silent and reached for chips. Chewing and ignoring him.

“What’s with you and bottling all your pent up anger only to toss it onto the poor guy? Didn’t even give him a chance to explain himself.” he tutted.

You whirled on him angrily. “They just want me for my power. Then they’ll let him off with like a dozen women around him. What the fuck is there for him to explain?!”

Hiroki looked way too calm. “Who are 'they'?”

You paused. “The Kamo family.”

“Are you 100% sure Noritoshi was in this only to use you?”

“Like 99.99%...” you trailed off. Hiroki eyed you knowingly. “That 0.01 percent chance of him loving you. You considered it, even though that’s a small ass probability sis. But hey, that’s your man. If you want him out, our family’s got your back. I’ll beat him up for you if you need me to”

You shook your head at him.

Hiroki sighed, “Though with that concubine thing, I can see it happenin’. Clan heads are desperate to have a son with the inherited technique. The Gojo clan just got lucky with Satoru. We dunno if it’s normal in the Kamo clan though. But with you as his soulmate, he shouldn’t need any. Somethin ain’t addin up…” He got lost in thought.

“You won’t know until you talk with Kamo himself.”

You sadly continued eating your chips. “I hate it when you’re right.”

◇◇◇

The next morning Utahime urgently called for a full student body plus all available jujutsu sorcerers on site for a meeting.

You and Hiroki stumbled into the room, almost late, pushing against each other. The other students looked curiously at the man who was fighting you for space on the couch.

You jabbed him in the gut and put a leg over his. “Uhhhh y/n who is that?” Mai asked.

Your cousin shrugged your leg off of his, stood up and said his greetings, “Hello, I am Tsuchimikado Hiroki. Alumni here at Kyoto Jujutsu High. Semi-grade 1 sorcerer. Pleased to meet you all and thanks for taking care of my lil sis- ah I mean cousin.”

“Ohhhh” Miwa took a closer look. You noticed Noritoshi glancing over at you. Todo walked up to him and pointed a finger, “Tsuchi’s relative? Then what woman is your idea-”

You used your technique to immobilise Todo and forced him to sit down in a daze. “Sorry for my rudeness, senpai. You can have that convo later.” You knew it would take too long if this starts again.

Hiroki looked affronted, “It’s rude to point bruh.”

Utahime clapped her hands to gather your attention as Principal Gakuganji appeared on the podium.

“Thank you so much all for coming into this meeting on such short notice. Especially to the alumni and other available Jujutsu sorcerers. Let's get straight to the point: I am here to announce that War is coming.”

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

#kamo noritoshi #angst fic #Jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfication #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #noritoshi x y/n #noritoshi x you #kamo noritoshi x reader #noritoshi x o/c #jjk x y/n #noritoshi angst #utahime #zenin mai #todo aoi #mechamaru #miwa #blood bound #blackened bond #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #kamo x you #jjk imagines

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High: The Seven Ep 6

Bitches Be Shopping

What is up y’all. A little late but let’s jump in with episode six of The Seven where our girls have just received a LOT of information, Sam most of all who got put into a little vision coma that she’s just now waking up from.

She explains the vision to her friends (as she interprets it, the other Eidolons didn’t die, just became part of the natural forces of the world) and then the bear that Penny made on a whim last episode (who is Russian, named Koda, and somehow a trained circus bear) gets into a fight with Katja with their friends buffing the two to make things more interesting because these are still idiot teens, life or death situation or no. Yelle decides to be the adult and tells them to knock it off and get back on mission.

That means Katja needs to call her dad since he’s knows the guy who’s the best lead to getting to TK ( Talcidimir Tallbreeze who I’ll call Tal). She actually manages to get her dad this time who is inside a giant snake on his hell mission. Katja asks what he knows about TK and he says she’s a sorcerer but also has a spell book so maybe she’s multiclassed. Sam and Ant desperately want to know if they boned and Katja absolutely is not interested in that knowledge. Yelle decides to just ask which makes her dad a little annoyed since he’s kind of in the middle of something (literally) and that annoys Ant, Ost, and Sam who--respectively, accuse him of gaslighting Kat, cast Command on him, and cast Bane on him to aid the Command spell. 

Mr. Cleaver fails the save and Ost commands him to tell Katja the truth. He admits that he did hook up with TK and he regrets it (note: it wasn’t like he cheated. It was just a casual hookup that wasn’t fulfilling it seems). Ost demands he apologize for not being there for Kat and Sam berates him for being at the top of the world and not lifting up his daughter too. For his part, Kat’s dad seems genuinely apologetic and promises to do better. 

“You don’t need to be the best father, you just need to be there,” Katja says, making her dad break down crying. 

Yelle, who has no daddy issues, is a bit less aggro and says that everyone makes mistakes and he can start making it up right now by helping with the Tal situation. She also gives them the tip that a cold spell will probably get them out of the snake lickety split.  She is on the money with the snake tip and Mr. Cleaver gets them all invites to a masquerade ball Tal is hosting. It’s being held on the Rumbosa which is this city-sized leisure ship. Mr. Cleaver says he’ll be back as soon as he can and, in the meantime, she should take care of her friends, “even the first 2 that were terrifying to me.”

The girls give Katja the axe they took as a birthday present (it was apparently her birthday the day before which Rekha just decided and Ost/Izzy refuses to accept without a fight because she *knows* Kat’s bday) which is identified as the Axe of Sundering (it can shatter objects, people, and sometimes concepts like halving movement). The two unnamed potions Yelle found are also ID’d as a Potion of Fly and a Potion of Gaseous Form. She distributes the Heath Potions to people without heals. Ant’s new arrows bypass some resistances and let her treat whatever she hits with the first one like it’s her favored enemy. 

According to their invites, the ship they need is docking in the city of Gravalvia soon (a very old city in the Baronies) so they need to figure out a plan. They have some downtime, during which:

Zelda tries to hype up the team.

Zelda tries to see if Ost is OK wrt dad stuff and Ost has a Full Breakdown after badly pretending she’s fine. 

While Zelda, Ost, and Penny are being Emotional and Sam is trying to literally cool them down with her powers, Ant and Yelle keep watch and experience emotional stability as the Adults Of The Party 

Anyway, after a night of rest, they head to the golden city of Gravalvia which is this very cool, very pretty city with mosaics and fountains and I assume columns. They get there and there’s a dramatic fight happening in the square which is halted when one of the fighters realizes that the country he’s fighting for doesn’t exist anymore. And now, it’s time for what we’ve all been waiting for. Shopping Montage! Let’s go girl by girl.

Katja and Ost

Kat asks for help from Ost with getting fancy for this gala since she’s never really done anything dressy before (and she had no mom to help--Kaaaat) and Ost is happy to oblige, dressing them both like “Jersey trash”. Kat, of course, still wears her Khakis underneath.

Antiope

Ant decides to get a vibe for what people here wear and picks something that will blend in but be forgettable so she can be stealthy. Classy blue dress and mask.

Penny

Penny...OK, I absolutely cannot describe what happens here in any way that will do justice to the scene. I am going to tell you what matters to the plot. You have to watch this yourself if you want to see the entire table have a collective breakdown. 

While looking for a costume, Penny runs into a halfling who is a member of the Society of Shadows--Laertes. He wants to know why she hasn’t responded to their invitation yet. She says she’s really eager to join, she just wasn’t sure how to respond (and also, she’s kind of in the middle of something). He says she can join by just messaging back and then her loved ones just have to sign waivers to have their memories wiped of her and she’s good to go. Say what now? asks Penny. She didn’t realize this was like a full Men in Black situation. 

He says it’s ultimately her decision and leaves.

Of course, I left out the parts where he ate a handful of Candy Heart’s remains, became violently ill, almost projectile vomited into Penny’s mouth, and she tried to kiss him despite him being a full adult. It’s A Lot, ok?

Also, we don’t find out until later but Penny picks a sexy duck costume for reasons that make more sense if you watch the scene but not *much* more sense. She also burns one of the healing potions on this dude as he is bar

Danielle

Danielle tries to get some info on the guests at the party and gets the names Lawrence LaDuc, Princess Autumn, and Duston who is the playboy cousin of Tal. She also hears some dude saying some colonize and plunder the earth BS and casts Heat Metal on him, fully mercing the dude. Ice cold. 

She tries to play it off like it’s the Curse of the Forest and when that doesn’t work and people start coming for her, she wildshapes into a dragon wyrmling and starts roasting people, killing 1 and dropping 2 to zero. 

Unfortunately, one of her party members is a known dragon hater and uses her new arrows to snipe her right out of the sky. Ant is horrified once she realizes what she’s done but Yelle says it’s all good. It’s NOT all good, says Ant, I STABBED YOU. You’re allowed to be mad! Yelle says she’s just really good at compartmentalizing but what Ant’s getting here is that Yelle doesn’t really believe that her feelings matter which echo the fears of her moms. 

Sam

Sam uses a combination of Mantle of Inspiration, glamour magic, performance, and good old flirting to get herself some killer clothes and also start a spontaneous musical number Giselle style.  

Brennan says she looks resplendent and, honestly, when does she not?

They reconvene, Zelda in a classic hoop skirt. Yelle realizes she never got a costume and just whips out a Met Gala level, autumn themed, Queen Mab-esque costume with Druidcraft which she could have done this whole time so I guess that’s why she was cool spending her shopping time getting gossip and playing Poison Ivy. 

They get to the ship and the way this works, everyone has to make an entrance and the really rich people (including Tal) are on a dais up top watching everyone come in. They all have to give fake names for the night since it’s a masquerade and they have to do Performance or Persuasion checks to see how impressive they look going in. 

Before they go in, they plan a little. Penny wants to look for TK. Sam wants to find Dunston. Ost wants to talk to the bouncers. Yelle wants to see if there are plants she can manipulate (there are btw) and for any exits. 

A quick rundown of how these all go:

Katja aka Mere (which means both mom and horse): 16 

Ant aka Midnight Huntress: 18 

Penny aka Penny Duckstone: 13

Zelda aka Madame Goodparty: 2 (Poor Zelda)

Sam aka Songbird: 22 (but she takes a hit to entrance save Zelda from totally flaming out)

Ost aka Stanley Gucci: 13

And Danielle, who never hogs the spotlight and is embarrassed to admit that maybe she does want to be the center of attention for once in her life with a Natural 20, gets a 29, absolutely bringing down the house as Empress Anima. As she walks forward she feels a voice say to her, “You got this. I love the name. You wear it well.”

Tal seems very impressed by her and a lady in a rabbit mask (Coeliabranca who I’ll call Coel if she comes up more) comes down to bring her up to the top with the high rollers. As she leaves, Sam casts Fly on her, just in case and holds the Concentration. 

Ost and Kat go talk to the bouncers and Kat decides to pretend to be her mom to get access to the area Yelle is. She rolls low and is told, “Hey, aren’t you already up there?” Kat is like, fuck and Ost saves her by using her charm earrings to get an entourage of guards who will let them through and do what she says. Once up there, Kat doesn’t see her mom which I can imagine she has mixed feelings about. 

Sam finds Dunston who is talking about Fantasy Bitcoin and seems like a real “Step on me mommy” type you know? Like, I feel like he’s into findom. Anyway, Sam charms him and his hangers on and learns about a procedure called a Phlebectomy that involves something going into their nose and then they feel better. Sam is rightfully horrified because, as I said, she is Most Likely To Survive A Horror Movie and can sense BS when she sees is. It’s apparently all the rage with the rich people here which is, como de dice, concerning seeing as they’re surrounded by them but we’ll get to that. Sam takes advantage of Dunston’s proclivities and gets him alone, knocks him out, steals him clothes, and pretends to be him (a *very* good scene by Sephie). 

Penny sees a gnome gnome boy (Lysander Higgins) shining shoes and finds out from him that there is a copper earth genasi woman here. In a very Cinderella move, she asks what shoes she was wearing. Then, she makes out with him which like, sure. At least it’s not a grown adult man this time. Before she gets her kisses in, she does tell the group what she learned. 

Up with the rich people, Yelle is introduced to Tal’s friend who is into Eidolons because of the name she chose. Between the shoes and her knowledge, they confirm that it’s TK! Yelle asks what she knows about Eidolons and she says that 7 is a very powerful number.

We cut to Ant who is patrolling the room as the sun sets and she suddenly hears a little beeping. It’s coming from a small crystal that was in Preston’s shirt (which she still has on her because???). Guests start dripping goo from their noses and transforming into monsters. Ant realizes that some kind of spell is happening triggered by midnight and this beeping. Hope these costumes are battle ready cause it’s fight time baybee!

Superlatives 

Danielle: Most Likely to Be on The News for Murdering Fantasy Jeff Bezos

I cannot imagine what was running through Yelle’s head when she decided that, having just rolled into a foreign country, her next move was to start using lethal force on anti-environmentalist colonizing capitalists. Like, she’s not *wrong* per se but she is wild--in all senses of the word.  

Random Thoughts

Kat keeps saying yesterday was her birthday which Ost/Izzy (and the rest of the group to a less vocal degree) are simply not having because maybe her dad would forget her birthday but her girls absolutely would not.

“You’re great because you stayed,” is the other killshot Kat line to her dad.

At a certain point Sam says, “This is so unhealthy,” to I think Yelle and like, if SAM is telling you your coping mechanisms are unhealthy, get thee to therapy.

OK, so someone, presumably Anima’s spirit, talks to Yelle as she makes her grand entrance which seems like info they should get to Talura ASAP, right? Cause that’s evidence they’re not dead-dead, just changed in form. But also Anima, girl. Don’t talk to Yelle. Talk to your rampaging sister!

"That's my secret, I stay in initiative."

Just a process note, notes are taken for the next ep and I am working on getting that recap up ASAP. As a battle ep, it will be in the abbreviated style that I did for last battle ep. 

In this episode, Penny rolls a Nat 1 (which she rerolls) and one of Brennan’s NPCs rolls a Nat 1. Ant rolls 2 Nat 20s, Yelle rolls 1, and Brennan says that one of his NPCs gets a 20 which sweeps him entirely into Sam’s dance number. 

#dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #the seven #the seven spoilers

[beyond-the-mirror]

Music of the Night (V x Reader)

Chapter 7 is finally here! As I have mentioned a couple posts ago I am going to focus solely on this story for the time being. I will try my best to update at least once per week so stay tuned.

Warnings: A little angst in a few parts.

Tagging: @thedyingmoon​ @minteyeddemon​ @vampiregirl1797​

If you wish to be tagged in this story let me know in the comments.

………………….

Chapter 7: Nightingale in the Cage

“So Bishop, would you mind explaining to us the reason you decided to become a patron for the Opera house?”

“Oh not at all.” Sanctus took a deep breath before speaking again. “As you may have heard in the local news, an estranged brother of mine passed away some time ago, may his soul rest in peace. Days later I received a visit from his lawyer, apparently he had accumulated quite the fortune and his testament determined that I would be the sole heir of all his possessions and shares.” The Bishop made a brief pause, the death of his brother still weighing down his heart. “I actually have no need for such a large sum of money, which is why I only kept a modest enough amount for me and decided to donate the rest in favor of the conservation of the arts.”

“A rather noble cause indeed Bishop, our sincerest apologies for your loss.” Monsieur Andre added.

“Thank you for your condolences. All my life I’ve considered myself to be an admirer of the fine arts. There’s nothing I wouldn’t love more than to finance Fortuna’s famous Opera House and support the careers of its many skilled artists.”

“And we shall be forever grateful for your patronage bishop.” Monsieur Firmin mentioned before lifting his champagne glass. “Let’s have a toast for the future of Fortuna’s Opera House.”

“For the future of this new society.” Raoul finished before the men raised their glasses together in glee. The vicomte, however, seemed to have a sense of sadness in his eyes that he hid all too well from everybody. How he wished to spend more time with you, but didn’t find you at the party.

Maybe you were too exhausted to attend and went home instead? Whatever it was, he wished you were okay.

………………….

‘The newest play from Fortuna’s Theatre Company, Hannibal, has been critically acclaimed by specialized press, scoring an impressive average of 4.6 out of 5 stars’

‘The exquisite acting and choreography are to be praised. However, its most prominent figure is the miraculous voice of the main singer, who has replaced iconic soprano Carlotta Guidicelli as the protagonist.’

‘Step down Carlotta! A new queen has arrived and the spotlight is all hers!’

‘In a shocking turn of events, Signora Carlotta Guidicelli, believed to be the company's successor to legendary soprano Kyrie Eleison, has been overshadowed by a new rising talent. A humble fortunian songstress by the name of (Y/N) (Y/L/N).’

‘(Y/N) (Y/L/N). The break-through songstress that has captivated the audience’s hearts. Is this the birth of a brand new star?’

Reviews, articles and blog posts about the company’s new soprano spread around the internet like wildfire, every single one focusing on the same subject: The mysterious soprano that took Fortuna by surprise and dethroned 'La Carlota’ herself.

The girl had become the theatre’s own Venus and Aphrodite, a muse that inspired all the souls touched by her melodious voice. A nightingale turned human, an angel descended to Earth.

But as her performances continued and her fame grew, a few observant enough would take notice of certain… details regarding her.

The truth behind this? A sinister shadow was tormenting the theatre’s beloved angel, one that threatened to consume not only her, but everything around.

………………….

“I refuse to accept this!” Carlotta stomped her heel on the marbled floor of her lavish bedroom, taking a sip from the almost full glass of wine in her hand.

Ever since that fiasco when she stormed out of the theatre during the rehearsals for ‘Hannibal’, the soprano’s life seemingly started turning for the worse, all because of that girl that once dared to collide with her during rehearsal. She had insisted the dancer had done so on purpose, envious of her great talent.

And now it turns out that dancer is the same one that took her role as the main protagonist! Carlotta felt offended by such a decision, she was a professional while that girl was just a simple amateur

Still, she had to admit this (Y/N) had a gifted voice. What she could not explain is how she managed to perfect her skill to such a high level if she claimed to be an inexperienced singer? As talented as one could be, it takes years of work and practice to master one’s craft, the only explanation she could come up with was that the girl had to have a special tutor, and an exceptional one at that.

But who?

Realizing her glass was already empty, Carlotta hurried to refill it again. She had believed that with Kyrie gone to Broadway, she now had the stage clear for herself to finally shine above everyone else, after all, the only voice above Signora Carlotta could only be that of Fortuna’s legendary songstress herself.

Such hopes were now broken. She had a new competitor, one that was already stealing the spotlights.

As she turned to the broadcast of the company’s most recent play, she huffed when the camera focused on the new main singer. The audience had fallen right into her trap, and now she had them all wrapped around her lithe finger.

“I don’t know what they see in her, she’s nothing special and she’s not that pretty. Especially with those dark circles under her eyes, does she even sleep? Careful girl, you are already losing your youth.” Carlotta snorted before downing her glass of wine.

………………….

“Vicomte Raoul! Bishop Sanctus! We weren’t quite expecting your visit to our Opera House. What can we do for you, gentlemen?”

Messieurs Andre and Firmin almost tripped over their own feet as they hurried to attend the Opera House’s important benefactors. Raoul managed to hide his laughter at their eagerness, while Sanctus simply offered the two a gentle smile.

“Do not worry for us, messieurs. This fine theatre holds so many precious memories of my youth, so I thought it appropriate to drop by and watch the rehearsals take place if you don’t mind us.”

“Oh, not at all Bishop! This way please.”

As the four men approached the hall, a melodious voice resonated through the walls.

“Ah! You are in luck. Our lead singer seems to be on stage right now practicing one of her numbers.” Firmin noted just as he opened the door to the main hall.

Madame Trish was supervising as usual, you stood at the stage performing an aria while Monsieur Reyer directed your voice through the song’s notes. As he took a seat near the stage next to Sanctus, Raoul was mesmerized by your singing figure, the passion and dedication you imprinted on your work palpable and strong enough to touch the hearts of others.

“An utter beauty, isn’t she?” The elder’s voice snapped him out of his trance. As he turned to face Sanctus, he noticed the soft smile and knowing look in his eyes. He gulped, were his feelings that obvious? Then again, Sanctus has seen and learned a lot during the many years of his long life, wisdom comes with age after all.

“Ah! Young love! Perhaps the purest and most innocent of them all.” The bishop gave a hearty chuckle. “Miss (Y/N) is definitely special. Her voice alone holds so much power, enough to make the entire audience bow to her, and yet she still remains humble and authentic.”

Raoul turned his attention back to the stage where you were now conversing with Trish and Reyer about your routine during the number. The vicomte could see what Sanctus meant, you weren’t arrogant or prideful like Carlotta, but rather attentive and open to the feedback and mentoring offered to you.

A smile grazed his lips. He had just met you and already you were taking over his heart and mind.

Still as he observed you going through the song one more time, there was something off that caught his eye. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there. The heave of your chest whenever you ended a verse, the slight trembles of your feet whenever they moved along the lines marked on the stage by Trish. 

You looked… tired? Exhausted, perhaps? No... more like detached.

But you continued the rehearsal with no trouble. Maybe your sudden growing popularity was already taking its toll on you, as well as all the performances you had to do at the theatre. For anyone without experience, such exhaustion is understandable.

In the seat next to him, Bishop Sanctus was also studying you. However, his expression seemed more preoccupied than that of the vicomte. He too had noticed some kind of dark aura looming around you, and he pondered what this could mean for the Opera House’s future, and for his plans too.

………………….

petite.aerette  I can’t believe I finally got to watch #Hannibal. So happy to know the Opera House is on the rise once again. #FortunaOperaHouse #theatre #musical

alya_hyacinth  You saw it live? Girl, I’m jealous!

dramaqueen101  Aaah I was there too! I wish you told me you were going, we could have gone together and have our seats next to each other.

petite.aerette  Sorry! Mom surprised me with our tickets that same morning. Did you see that new singer everyone is talking about? She is awesome! I already love her voice and acting!

dramaqueen101  I know right?! In fact I caught a glimpse of her after the play when she retired to her dressing room. I wanted to go talk to her but it was too crowded and she seemed to be in a rush. However I noticed she looked a bit tired? As if she hadn’t been getting enough sleep.

………………….

Free time had become a luxury for Nico. There was always something to fix, something to supervise, something to check. Whatever breaks she would get, she welcomed them with open arms and relaxed as much as she could before it was back to work again.

It was in one of these breaks when she ran into you, what better way to enjoy some free time than with a dear friend?

But as she approached your figure, Nico took notice of your appearance. Your skin was now as pale as a ghost, your eyes were heavy with sleepiness and dark circles framing them. You looked as if you were about to collapse at any given moment.

“Hey, you alright sugarcube?” Nico’s hands went to your arms by instinct, just in case you were feeling sick and you needed to be rushed to the infirmary. But with a small smile, you tried to ease her worries.

“Couldn’t get much sleep last night, that’s all.”

“Uh huh…” Nico was many things, highly perceptive was one of those. Many have found out the hard way that she was not an easy one to fool. Of course, it was no surprise that she could see right through your words. “Come. Let’s get you some warm tea.”

Stern and maybe a bit harsh, but caring when the situation called for it. That was Nicoletta Goldstein for you. One of the most surprising things about her is that she made the best tea in the world according to the people working at the theatre. 

“This should ease you a bit, honey. Careful, it’s still hot.” As she handed you the small cup, she looked at you with worry in her eyes but didn’t say anything. Instead she waited for you to open up and tell her what was wrong.

You could already picture the almost dead look you must have had. With slightly shaky hands you held onto the porcelain cup, raising it to your lips and gently blowing the steam to cool it down a bit. As a warm earthy flavor filled your taste buds, your body could finally ease up and relax even if just for a little while, granting you a moment of much needed peace.

Still, you didn’t find it in yourself to tell her.

Luckily for you, Nico knew better than to keep insisting. She figured that whatever was worrying you, you weren’t ready to talk about it yet. Nonetheless, she stayed right by your side in a comfortable silence with a cup of tea of her own.

It was a nice and peaceful moment, at least until she was called to check on one of the moving stage props.

And so she excused herself, but not before reminding you that you could always count on her for anything.

What Nico didn’t know, however, was the reason for your silence.

You didn’t tell her because something was forcing you to. 

………………….

Days became weeks. Weeks became months. And soon enough, time itself began to blur.

Ever since that night at his sanctuary, everything felt… off.

You had woken up in your bed, feeling dazed and lightheaded, perhaps the effects of the turmoil from the previous night.

V. The first thing on your mind as soon as you recovered your consciousness was him.

You wanted, no, needed to find him and get some answers. Why did he disappear so many years ago? Why was he hiding his true identity from you?

… What were those black markings scarring his face?

There was just one problem, you didn’t know where exactly was his sanctuary located. The secret passage behind the mirror in your dressing room came to mind, but in order to navigate the underground canals you needed a boat, not to mention that it was easy to get lost in there. Maybe you could ask the authorities for help, but how could you explain your story and make them believe you?

You made your decision on the way to the Opera House. You would start by telling Nico for the moment, you trusted her enough and she often gave the best advice on any matter.

But the moment you spotted her in the distance and tried to approach her, something strange happened.

An unseen force lodged itself in your chest, holding your voice and your heart in a vice grip that burned through your entire body. All the air in your lungs escaped you, and the feeling of daze you felt that morning returned in full force. You tried to scream, call for help, but no sound would come out of your lips. All words died as soon as they left your vocal chords.

You watched Nico leaving after someone required her assistance, and as soon as she disappeared from your line of sight, the pain stopped. As sudden as it had arrived.

You remained frozen in your place, goosebumps raised on your flesh. The moment some sensation came back to your legs, you ran away.

The day continued with relative normalcy, but your mind remained perturbed. And hours later, just as all the scheduled performances had ended for the day, you headed for your dressing room.

Once inside, the mirror opened, and everything went black.

When you opened your eyes, it was already morning the next day. Once again you woke in your bed, feeling as dazed and lightheaded as the day before. But the feeling didn’t go away, and with everyday that passed, it only became worse.

Strangely enough, your performances never faltered once despite the unknown illness weighing you down, almost as if you were doing everything automatically, like a machine following its program. You were thankful for this apparent ability to keep it together, but soon you started feeling detached. It reached a point when you could no longer feel your own body, or the melodic notes leaving your lips. You were no longer living, but rather watching your life unfold itself without any input of your own.

Many times you made an attempt to tell someone, anyone, about this; but you found that every single time you were about to do so, that terrible pain would return until you desisted. Soon, you were conditioned to stay quiet.

One day Nico began noticing your predicament, but by then that obscure force had you under its control already. She was right there, concerned and willing to help. And yet you didn’t dare to speak up.

Panic often filled your mind, hopelessness flooded your soul. You prayed and prayed for this nightmare to stop.

After another successful performance, the last one for the day, you found yourself inside the main dressing room as usual.

And as usual, the mirror opened, letting out the hidden darkness that haunted the Opera House behind everyone’s backs.

………………….

Poor unfortunate Joseph Buquet. 

Ever since that incident with the falling curtain, Nico had him double checking pretty much everything. Every rope, pulley and mechanism had to be meticulously examined in order to prevent another incident like that from happening again. Now he understood why it was such an important and critical matter, the least he wanted was for anybody to be harmed due to a malfunction after all, but his own anxiety over making a mistake and causing another accident was already getting him. The poor man would triple- no, cuadruple check every single detail in an almost paranoid way. Not a single nook or cranny would be left unattended by this dedicated worker.

So it was no surprise that today was especially bad for the nervous Mr. Buquet, for his trusty utility belt had been misplaced, making him search the whole building for his precious tools.

Only after finding his utility belt did Buquet allow himself to feel relieved, a heavy burden lifting off his tired shoulders. He was making his way back to the fly floor when the sound of hurried steps nearby reached his ears, as he turned at a corner he caught a glimpse of you closing the door to your dressing room shut. Noticing the way you entered the room in such a haste, he worried something might have happened to you. Maybe you were feeling sick and needed to rest? These days you had been looking paler than usual, and the man had to admit that seeing you in your current lamentable state tugged at his heartstrings.

Walking to your door, Buquet politely knocked at the wooden surface “Miss (Y/N), is everything alright?” But no answer came back.

He knocked again, this time a bit louder. “Miss (Y/N), are you there?” Again, no answer.

Now he was getting genuinely concerned. He even pressed his ear to the door in an attempt to hear whatever was happening inside, but he found only silence.

“Miss (Y/N) I’m opening the door right now!” Buquet immediately took hold of the knob and slowly cracked it open, merely peeking inside just in case you needed some privacy after all.

The sight that greeted him sent chills to his very bones.

A tall shadowy figure towered at the back of the room, its arms wrapped around your unconscious body in a seemingly possessive manner. Like a ghost, it moved towards the mirror and disappeared with you in its arms.

Buquet stood frozen as his mind tried to process what just happened before him.

He had heard the stories, rumors about an entity that haunted the Opera House. Some workers would mention seeing shadows through the corners of their eyes, others would claim that low growling noises could be heard at the hallways when they were empty enough, and a few would tell how they found strange iridescent blue feathers in the most bizarre locations inside the premises.

His mind pictured the heavy curtain that mysteriously fell on Carlotta. Then, the strange Box Four that always remained unoccupied despite the concierge’s claims about hearing a voice coming from inside.

They called it different names. A poltergeist, a monster, a demon… a Phantom…

But this time they hadn’t moved a prop or taken a simple object with them.

This time, they had taken a person.

………………….

Locked inside one of the restrooms designated for the staff, Mr. Buquet did his best to calm himself down. He had just witnessed the kidnapping of a promising young woman by the hands of an… an entity.

His hands flew to his hair in panic. What could he do? Nobody would believe a phantom had spirited away the company’s Prima Donna!

He… he had to have been hallucinating! Yes, that had to be it. For years the staff has accused the Phantom for all the minor inconveniences that often sabotaged rehearsals and productions, but this was an entirely different story, a songstress was just kidnapped for Lord Sparda’s sake! Urban legends or not, the supposed Phantom had never gone to these extremes before.

Splashing some cold water on his tired face one last time, Buquet finally exited the restroom and made his way back home, all the while reassuring himself that what he had witnessed couldn’t have been real.

‘Tomorrow Miss (Y/N) is gonna come to work as always. Nothing bad happened to her. Right now she is at home, resting on her bed.’ He would repeat himself over and over.

And the next day, Buquet got his much needed relief when he saw you rehearsing at the stage as if nothing had transcurred the night before. He almost let out an euphoric laugh when he saw you safe and sound and that he had been anxious for nothing.

Concluding that the constant burnout was the cause of his hallucinations, Mr. Buquet requested for a few days off to recover, a request that Monsieur Andre approved without thinking twice. 

Everything was going to be okay… or so thought Joseph Buquet.

Castings for a new production called ‘Il Muto’ were about to start in a few weeks, and everyone was about to witness how a single wrong decision could unleash the most gruesome of horrors.

#devil may cry #phantom of the opera #Vitale Sparda #dmc v #v x fem!reader #v x you #reader insert #fanfiction #writings from the mirror

[ferret-not-microwave]

Les Amis Modern AU: What They Wish Others Believed About Them (Part 4)

[I kind of wrote this in response to some general trends in characterising the Amis. There are some stereotypes which I'm not quite comfortable with.]

[So much delay. Sorry.]

Joly:

• Really, really wishes that people don't laugh at him for his anxiety issues. He is truly terrified of getting infected with some disease or the other, and even more terrified of spreading it to Joly and Chetta. It doesn't help that he is one of the most sincere students of the lot, and spends a lot of time reading medical journals, which feed into his panic. He feels safe wearing masks, using rubbing alcohol (or wearing gloves), and having a bag full of basic first aid supplies, and gets embarrassed if anyone judges him for it. Also, he doesn't like it if "concerned" people ask him whether he had a past history of debilitating disease or something, he doesn't want to discuss it at all, okay? -_-

• When Joly fusses about illness in the Musain, it is him letting his guard down. He has to actively rein in his anxiety to function in the hospital, and gets super exhausted from hiding it. His tells in the hospital are are wide eyes behind his protective goggles and a compulsive toying with the wristband of his gloves. He's one of the most courageous individuals ever because of what he faces on a regular basis. He hopes that he might get some reassurance from the Amis to stop his spiralling thoughts, and he mostly gets it.

• Joly definitely has a wild side, and is more than his anxious, serious self. If there's one who can one-up Courf's cheesy pick-up lines, it is Joly. With a eyebrow quirk that leaves everyone giggly and blushing. If there's one who can set a Karaoke stage on fire (not literally, that would be R), it's Joly. If there's one who can down shots to match Bahorel, it's Joly. The one who is the most eager to go skinny dipping? Joly. The one who is, oddly, the most eager to break a pinata? Joly. Joly is more than a "quiet science nerd who checks his tongue in the mirror all the time".

• Joly and Ferre INSIST that they do not talk about random medical trivia all the time. Honestly, their shared interests involve Jane Austen and massive amounts of gossip with tea, along with Doctor Who, Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. MASSIVE AMOUNTS OF TEA, IN EVERY SENSE OF THE WORD.

• There are days he wants to tackle people like an angry Pikachu. But real life is tough, and not everyone has the privilege of confronting people. But he really, really can do without people casting aspersions on his poly relationship with Bossuet and 'Chetta ALL THE TIME. He has been confronted as an "opportunist" in Pride walks, faced with people's pitying look to Bossuet or 'Chetta as though he is stringing them both along or "sharing" 'Chetta with Bossuet, cheered on and slapped on the back by straight cismen for "knowing how to have fun", and once directly asked if he's the one who will marry 'Chetta. He goes into panic often, and for the longest time thought himself a really awful person.

• Beware a Joly in a farmer's market. Not because of haggling, but because some people ALWAYS assume that he's amazing at math while he actually fumbles at the cash counter. Similarly, he hates it if people crack shady jokes about him being a Marie Kondo around him (just because he likes neatness AND MARIE KONDO THANK YOU VERY MUCH). And no, he doesn't like rice all the time.

• Please give back the Tupperwares. Unlike popular opinion, Joly won't chase you down for his Tupperware like some do, and isn't particularly possessive about them. That doesn't mean that he can replace misplaced Tupperwares for all eternity, please. ;_; (Same goes for the beeswax food wraps and dino bandages, c'mon peeps don't help yourself to them indiscriminately ;_;).

• Apart from his baggy sweatshirt and dinosaur pajamas aesthetic, he also has a dress shirt and pleated pants collection that would probably leave Jay Gatsby jealous AF.

Bossuet:

• Is really self-conscious about his receding hairline. He had taken to shaving his head to make it look cool, because he's really uncomfortable with weird jokes about his age and baldness. Shaving heads is pretty high-maintenance at times, and he's slowly opening up to let the hair grow back on the sides of the head for the heck of it. He used to have a large collection of hats too, which he still uses occasionally, but now it is just a fashion accessory, not a way to hide. He likes scarves as well.

• He used to flinch and swallow his discomfort when people would touch his scalp without permission, now he firmly brushes off their hands with a light scowl.

• Similarly, he hates it when people actively try to compare him to Joly. He hates being considered less successful, a "third wheel" to Joly and 'Chetta and someone who can be taken less seriously. This doesn't mean he is jealous or angry with Joly at all though.

• He feels really, really angry when Joly sometimes breaks down in front of him and 'Chetta when confronted with comments on their relationship. He can and will stonewall anyone who hurts either of them.

• Bossuet understands Joly's anxiety because he faces anxiety as well. He often gets nightmares of his "bad luck" turning batshit Final-Destination-esque and resulting in horrible accidents to Joly, 'Chetta amd the rest of the Amis. He knows the "bad luck" jokes are good humouring, but it wears him down a lot in exam/interview/work meeting weeks and leaves him third and fourth guessing himself. He had also entered a bout of depression because the "bad luck" jokes had convinced himself that he can't progress in life because what's the use. It took a lot of work and, oddly, a super niche article from the Amis blog detailing research on how some societies actively ostracize people for being "unlucky" and how it is linked to major societal oppression, to help him.

• Bossuet loves having a heart of gold. Sometimes some people tell him not to be so nice ("what if that person has cheated you off money with a sob story?"). He refuses, because he cherishes being nice and knows his limits. He sometimes worries if he's being stupid, like when the great "attendance-by-proxy" disaster happens. But Marius' broad and grateful smile, "hi, how are you doing?" texts every morning, and monthly batch of AMAZING chocolate cookies makes it worth it.

• Bossuet's accidents do lead to some happy accidents. He stumbled on a whole new recipe of gooey brownies by accident. An amazing combination of dark chocolate and red chilli peppers (maybe not so weird in retrospect)? By accident. He fell upon Courfe's sandcastle once, but it resulted in a rare hermit crab crawling out. Courfe gave a treat at the new brunch place he was saving up for, because apparently that hermit crab had made Ferre all starry-eyed and happier than he had been in weeks. And as for the rest pf the accidents? Nothing that duct tape , 'Chetta, Joly and occasionally Feuilly can't help with. In all, his accidents are always smallish, and never monumental.

• Bossuet can put 'Chetta and Ferre to shame with his eyebrow raising (at least occasionally? Hehe?). He does that a lot when people ask him if he has put water on fire or has fallen into wells. "Like bruh? I don't go anywhere close to wells, I love sidewalks and what's with everyone asking me about the kitchen being on fire?" He also does that a lot to piners (R, Ep, Courfe, 'Parnasse).

• Bossuet is one of Enj's closest friends in Law School (apart from Courfe), because Law classes and shared optional papers. Duh. They often have long discussions which are super pleasant, fluffy, yet sensible because of his really sensitive optimism. Bossuet's unorthodox insights make their way into Enj's notes for ABC meetings, and he credits him always. Similarly Enj bails him out with attendance issues. Bossuet often calmly advices him about R. Since Joly has a similar relationship with Ferre, Bossuet and Joly sometimes help Enj and Ferre sort out lingering grievances between them, or plain hear them out. Enj and Bossuet have Froyo days.

Musichetta:

• Loves, loves, LOVES books. Has no idea why people think nerds come in a kind of stereotype only ("I don't look like you", she complains to Joly and Ferre one day, "but I can defeat you two in a Jane Austen quiz WTF!" They agree emphatically, and Ferre adds "and maybe Jehan too. Maybe".). She is a massive sucker for Comic-Cons and hates men who try to prove otherwise. -_- She loves libraries as much as she loves bars.

• Has no idea why people think she's super bitchy or about to eat them up. Many people plain run when she so much as looks at them while doing a shift as a barista in the Musain. Or ask for "the nicer barista" (Cosette?). When she breathes a sigh of relief when someone treats her nice, she also braces herself for self-righteous "saviours". "Are you sure you are doing okay with those men?" "They are using you!". If she poured milk all over a client's trousers because of such a comment not-so-accidentally, no one needs to know. ;)

• Sometimes, she feels drained out. Having to support both her partners anxiety can leave her down too. They are amazing people, who love her a lot, and know that she needs her recharge time. Often Bossuet takes over in caring for Joly and vice-versa. 'Chetta has a small arrangement with Courfe on those days. If he has free time, the two of them go for an amazing, super relaxing spa session. Bahorel is back-up spa partner. The two of them know not to ask questions, but let her unwind her thoughts and air them out.

• 'Chetta joined Les Amis L'ABC much later. One of her pet peeves were when Joly or Bossuet would go to protests which could easily turn violent because of right wing trolls and the police swarming the city. Specifically, when they went without more than a word or two to her. She would get worried sick, particularly if they couldn't pick up the phone within half an hour of the protest ending, and would cry alone because she didn't want to come off as needy and one of those people who do not support their cause.

• She finally broke down before them after Bossuet had a small concussion. They were really shamefaced at having not thought about her feelings, and their apologies ran for hours. While Joly promised to regularly give her updates, Bossuet asked her to join the ABC if she is comfortable with it. It took time for her to accept that she was being in the group because of the cause and not because she wanted to helicopter-mom Joly and Bossuet, but when the next protest happened, she realised that she was in a place she always wanted to be in.

• The Amis thought that she was a member anyway. She would holler at

• 'Chetta hates it when people think that it's Joly or Bossuet who end up lavishing gifts on her all the time. True, they do, but she does it too. She's a sucker for thoughtful gift giving, and she spoils the Amis A LOT OF TIMES. She can scour the Earth for ideal gifts for her boys, and she often takes care of a stray bill or two, as much as she humanely can. She doesn't play a one-upping battle of gifts though, she just loves a lot.

• She is really self conscious about her small hands and tiny feet. Which seem to her too small in comparison with the rest of her body. Sometimes she used to wear really fluffy mittens in winter to hide how small her hands her. Not so much now. :)

•She confided to Jehan that she didn't like people romanticizing her small hands and feet because she thought they were putting unrealistic standards of the "frail beauty" on her when she was anything but. She said this after she heard R chortle about how Joly had introduced her as having tiny hands and feet. The discussion ended in her gaping and then crying out of laughter because (according to Jehan) apparently Joly was really drunk when he first talked to the Amis about her, and had also said something like "she has fortune-teller eyes, yannow! Ask Bossuet! And her dimples! Marius, you booby, you pool noodle, I know how you feel like when you met Cosette!"

Apparently Bahorel had replied with "you need new pants" and then started laughing like no tomorrow. Bossuet, not so drunk (because he was late to the party), had taken the sensible route and shown the Amis the picture the three of them took after their first date.

• Seriously, she knows zilch about tarot cards or natal charts.

#les amis #les amis d'abc #les miz #les miserables #joly #bossuet #musichetta #undoing poly stereotypes #anxiety #we love them don't we? #stop bald shaming #stop laughing at anxiety #don't judge #ferret's freshly microwaved post

[chalkrevelations]

Episode 31 of Word of Honor, and in many ways OH MY GOD YES, but also, no, show, wtf?

As in, wt actual f is going on? Literally, what is happening?

(Spoilers, so scroll away and come back later, if you need to.)

So, first thing’s first: I feel like this one may end up a bit short, because a lot of it is likely to be just a bunch of keysmash flailing? (EDIT: No, I just came back up here to the top from the bottom, because this is NOT AT ALL any shorter than usual.) I’ll attempt a bit more than exclamation points and worry over whether my poor heart is able to take this, but we’ll see how it goes, because the first thing I’m going to do is say I knew it! and I told you so! I knew you weren’t planning to die, Zhou Zishu. I did call you a liar after Ep 30, and I was right. I mean, what’s the point of having the terrifying master of the Ghost Valley as your boyfriend husband if he’s not going to rescue you after you’ve been kidnapped for attempted ravishment by the evil prince? And get you the best wedding present ever, i.e., a bunch of new disciples? Omg, Zhou Zishu’s face when Wen Kexing finally calls himself a disciple of Four Seasons Manor! (I think he’s so overwhelmed, he doesn’t even realize when WKX calls him “shixiong” a minute before that!) Wen Kexing’s tiny pained smile that he just can’t seem to help when ZZS lays his hand on WKX’s head! That long shuddering breath ZZS lets out, and the way his shoulders just drop, like he’s finally let go of a huge weight! (The worry this brings me, because there are five and a half episodes left, my dude, and your husband is a troublemaker, and I would not be getting complacent, if I was you.) The fact that WKX has knelt to ZZS and called him zongzhu in front of the Ghost Valley contingent – there’s gotta be some political implications to that. Horseback riding! The way WKX keeps holding (up) ZZS! Lol at WKX being all, you all can leave now, we can take our honeymoon alone from here! ZZS knew he would come (I told you so)! Their smiles! Their soft little faces! (Merciless killers! How so fucking adorable?) The hairpin! MARRIED, Y’ALL. Censorship? I don’t know her. ANYWAY, that’s all just a bunch of flailing reaction to the first almost 20 minutes of emoporn. Also, Zhang Zhehan, you should not do suffering so pretty. It makes me feel like a bad person for still enjoying your face so much when your character is in so much physical and emotional distress.

Secondly, show. We need to talk. You should not be this opaque. I’m trying to piece together everything that’s happened in (vaguely) chronological order:

Sometime before dying (before breaking his heart meridians?), Han Ying tells Wen Kexing about the Four Seasons Remnants back with Prince Jin. All of Ep 30 happens, with Zhou Zishu and Xie Wang both making a mess of Awful Prince’s/Yifu’s plans. Xie Wang, the rest of the Scorpions, and the Ghost Valley team retreat back to a lair. Which lair? Who knows, at this point. Cao Weining talks to Fan Shishu. (He explicitly tells this to A-Xiang.) But does he also confront Mo Huaiyang? Because I feel like it must be significant that we get the same turn of phrase to describe Zhao Jing’s relationship with Xie Wang – asking a tiger for its skin – from Mo Huaiyang to Fan Shishu, and then attributed to Cao Weining when A-Xiang quotes it to WKX in the same ep. The show even emphasizes this for us to catch by drawing attention to A-Xiang’s use of it via her struggle to remember the idiom properly. (A. This episode’s convo between Mo Huaiyang and Fan Shishu, which is when we see Mo Huaiyang actually use the idiom, happens AFTER Cao Weining and Gu Xiang leave Gentle Wind Sword Sect. I went back and checked, and it is Mo Huaiyang who uses it, not Fan Shishu. B. In this same convo, Fan Shishu says he still needs to explain all this to the disciples somehow, so C. Was there a prior, unseen convo between just Cao Weining and Mo Huaiyang in which Mo Huaiyang practiced his excuses on poor, hapless Cao Weining first?)

Anyway, Cao Weining then goes to A-Xiang, who’s lit. and fig. in the dark at this point, in her rustic cabin outside the gated community. I notice Cinnamon Roll already has his bag packed. He is done. He lays out the current political web, and A-Xiang seems pretty sure of Liu Qianqiao’s ultimate loyalty to WKX. This is probably important in what happens next. Gu Xiang and Cao Weining decide to run away and elope but then … get captured and taken to the lair. On purpose? A-Xiang did see Liu Qianqiao with Xie Wang in the Secret Cave, standing shoulder to shoulder with Du Pusa as an apparent top-tier henchwoman, and she probably expects to be protected, but this seems like a pretty big gamble. I suppose you don’t survive the Ghost Valley without learning to take some risks. A-Xiang then leads Xie Wang and the Ghost Valley contingent to WKX (at burned-down Four Seasons Manor?) to, she says, let WKX take down Xie Wang. She notes Xie Wang’s use of some potion to control everyone – I assume the Drug Man potion, and I assume the monthly antidote is what’s keeping everyone in the Ghost Valley from going full Drug Man?

WKX and Xie Wang confer in secret. Probably about how much they both hate Awful Yifu. I mean, I assume Xie’er still hates Awful Yifu at this point, but who knows what tomorrow will bring? Probably a key point here: WKX is hiding whatever this was about from his husband. My dude, why are you still like this? I guess that explains the pained cast to that tiny little smile earlier. WKX then takes some of the Ghost Valley contingent and coordinates with the Four Seasons Remnants back in Prince Jin’s territory to rescue ZZS. Husband safely rescued, WKX now heads back to Ghost Valley, to … abdicate? He promises A-Xiang he’s going to come back safely, and my dude, I’m trying to believe you. I really am. I’m trying to have as much faith in you planning to be back all along as I had in ZZS not planning to die in Jin Palace all along, but here’s a key difference: HE LET YOU IN ON HIS PLAN. Which you were a key part of. I find your secrecy, by contrast, concerning.

Other things:

Love the little moment between Gu Xiang and Liu Qianqiao and Luo Fumeng when Beauty Ghost and Tragicomic Ghost turn to Xie Wang in righteous indignation and want to know what the fuck he thinks he’s doing to their little girl. Compare the reaction of these two moms to Happy Ghost being all, “Nope, this is a complete and total in with Wen Kexing right here in a pretty pink dress.” The show continues to draw a fairly bright line between the characterization of the women in the Department of the Unfaithful - who are terrorizing certain people, true, but also watching out for each other after ending up down on their luck – and the general run of men in Ghost Valley, who are basically rotten sociopaths straight out of Batman’s rogues gallery and will sell you out in a minute for their own gain. Yes, this has been made fairly explicit in Wen Kexing’s and A-Xiang’s commentary in past eps and later in this ep about trying to get the Department of the Unfaithful out of the line of fire while not caring if the jianghu burns down the rest of Ghost Valley, but this isn’t just favoritism or a whim, just some fond memories of Luo Fumeng being kind to them a couple of times in the past. I think there’s some commentary here on the kind of men who are so far gone they find themselves outside the bounds of “civilized” society and the kind of women who do – how much easier and quicker it is for a woman, that it could be any woman in the wrong circumstances, and how much further gone a man has to be than a woman to be considered a “devil.” We’ve seen these supportive interpersonal relationships among the women since Gu Xiang “adopted” her two girls in the first handful of episodes and told off Lovelace with the threat of Tragicomic Ghost – and the show is continuing to show it, not just tell it. It’s one of the things I’ve found frustrating about Wen Kexing a couple of times in past eps, when he’s trying to get A-Xiang’s two girls, or other women from the Department, to just leave and go do something else – I feel like even though WKX realizes their circumstances and their personalities are different from the rest of his Top Ten Devils, he’s not fully comprehending that they literally have nowhere else to go, that if they had any other options, they wouldn’t have ended up there in the first place. He called the two girls “puppies” when he talked about A-Xiang having to take care of them, but as Ghost Valley master, who’s enforced the independence of and protections for the Department of the Unfaithful, he’s walking away from his own basketful of puppies. Not to mention, this is one of the vanishingly small places in this particular version of the jianghu that we’ve seen women have any autonomy and power. I … think there may have been a few young female cultivators in Yueyang Sect, but while I’d have to go back and watch to be sure, I remember the Hero’s Conference being a whole bunch of men throwing their … weight around. Anyway, I also love that it looks like A-Xiang tries to kick Happy Ghost in the shin, because of course she does.

Visually, they had a cool thing going on there with the Tian Chuang behind WKX falling in concert with WKX lowering his fan, but they didn’t quite coordinate it enough, and then they cut away too soon. Bah. It was set up to be a very cool visual, if only they had committed to it. Meanwhile Duan Pengju, this asshole, omg. He’s trying to pull off the Collar of Evil and is not succeeding. Srsly, his Collar of Evil is droopy. It doesn’t stop him from monologuing like he’s the actual villain and not some sad-sack lackey. You showed the correct amount of amused disdain during your interaction, but I can’t believe you left him alive at the end of it, Wen Kexing.

I wasn’t really feeling Jing Beiyuan and Wu Xi up until this ep when Jing Beiyuan was teasing A-Xiang about her lack of shame over running away with her lover. OK, fine, you can stay, Qi Ye. Also, wow. Speaking of lack of shame, I can’t believe you just accused your husband of bride kidnapping right in front of everyone’s salads, because that is totally what just happened there.

So the band is (almost all) back together, minus Chengling, who has definitely found out in the worst possible way that one of his dads is the terrifying master of the Ghost Valley that massacred his family and sect. So, this should go well.

Lol at Xie’er lounging in Wen Kexing’s Ghost Valley master seat like some kind of consort. He’s already got a husband, Xie’er. One that would not be happy with a concubine running around, I think. I do wonder what the full scope of their plan/understanding is, bubbling away under this stare-down.

A note – WKX’s hair is styled differently in this ep in the Ghost Valley master scenes than it has been before. Previously, those side bangs were further forward and a little bit chunkier, which, I think, narrowed his face and also helped emphasize the wild-eyed look. They’re wispier and back further, now, which I think softens his face, even when he’s trying to look imposing. Makes him look more, dare I say, human.

And now, I’m going to go have a few Han Ying/Bi Xingming thoughts, actually. God, those months after ZZS left, can you imagine what that was like for them? Han Ying having watched those nails placed in Bi Xingming’s shifu in the first ep, and then having to turn around and go to Bi Xingming and tell him that ZZS was gone, with the seven nails in him? Both of them trying to hold the Four Seasons Remnants together – and then Ying-ge comes back one day and says he’s found ZZS? Mutual aid and comfort, my dudes. Also some projection. I’m just sayin’. Meet me, I guess - this kind of sideline action and extremely rare pair thing is how I tend to roll.

#zhou zishu #wen kexing #gu xiang #cao weining #liu qianqiao #luo fumeng #xie wang #jing beiyuan #wu xi #zhang chengling #han ying #bi xingming #word of honor #word of honor episode reax

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

Why do you think Tomarry would work? I see a lot of people hating on it and the only response I ever see is that they come from similar backgrounds or people just like enemies to lovers. Also which horcrux do you think Harry would go best with (including Voldemort)

So, this is probably a more complicated question than you intended, but that’s because I live in bizarre head canon lands that few ever dare venture towards.

With that, let’s get started.

But What Do You Really Ship, Muffin?

First, it probably bears saying that I’m not really a Tomarry shipper. I know, I’ve written more than one Tomarry story, so if that’s not Tomarry what is? Well, remember that those Tomarry pairing tags are a filthy lie. October I committed the grievous sin of breaking up the Tomarry and throwing Tom at Harry’s mother. Lily and the Art of Being Sisyphus is barely a Harry Potter fic in any capacity, and while the ship is the driving force of the fic, it’s also this nebulous, distant, thing that really shows up only in strange side stories where I try to make people laugh. When Harry Met Tom is probably the closest that I take seriously, but I also intentionally subvert all your typical Tomarry tropes for my own enjoyment. 

The only Tomarry story I’d say I’ve ever actually written is “The Burning Taste of Fire Whisky”. It’s a very popular story, sadly perhaps my most popular on Ao3, but I actually loathe it entirely. 

A lot of the time I feel like I just happen to have a Tomarry shirt on and then I suddenly became a subject matter expert. If you want the Tomarry opinions from real Tomarry people, I’m probably not the best person to ask. In fact, if you want really any standard answer about Harry Potter anything, I’m not the best person to ask.

Now, I’m not just saying this to be a hipster but to sort of give some background for why I’m going to give the answer I’m going to give and why it’s going to be 100% different from everyone else’s and yes, sometimes, I do think I came from Mars.

Will the Real Tomarry Please Stand Up?

So with that, the bottom line is: taking canon as JKR intended, completely at face value, Tomarry doesn’t work at all. This is because JKR fully intends a very flat, one-dimensional, and frankly quite boring Tom Riddle. Tom Riddle’s evil, Tom Riddle was born evil, Tom Riddle was evil in the womb because of rape. He is completely and utterly irredeemable and understands nothing of love.

Well, that sort of sinks the ship right out of the harbor, doesn’t it? A Tom Riddle incapable of love is one incapable of growth, especially in a romantic focused story. If you try to write it you just get weird sociopathic whump porn where Tom probably whips Harry in a closet somewhere.

Added onto this we get that, despite what she put down on paper, Harry is supposed to be a straight man. That aside, he’s also a righteous man whose understanding of things like love and friendship mean he’d never sully himself with gross Tom Riddle. Ew, what are you people thinking?

Well, what if we take canon just mostly as JKR intended? What if we just look at the characters the way she actually wrote them versus what she was trying to do? Still no dice.

Tom might now be capable of love, be a far more engaging character who can go somewhere, and be pulled out of a pit of rage and despair by someone but that someone ain’t Harry.

First, while I firmly believe Harry is gay (gay, not bisexual, compare his descriptions of Cho/Ginny to Tom Riddle/Sirius Balck/Cedric Diggory/Charlie Weasley, that boy pants after Tom Riddle and Cho’s kiss is “wet”) he’s also a much worse person and much dumber character than JKR intended. It’s really the first that damns the pairing.

I have a whole giant post on how Harry’s a little yikes but the long and short of it is that while Harry thinks he understands friendship and love he’s also someone who will cut out his friends at a moment’s notice if he feels remotely slighted, uses and sacrifices them for his own ends, gleefully uses unforgiveable curses when given the opportunity, and is the kind of guy who would cut someone up in the bathroom, leave them to bleed to death, and only really feel bad about it when it seems he might get in trouble for it.

This Harry ending up even with a Tom who could potentially be redeemed would more likely lead to, well, weird psychopathic whump porn where Harry tortures Tom in his basement to make him pay for all the horrible things he’s done while Harry claims he’s the most moral person ever because his mother loved him.

So, yeah, no Tomarry for you.

But Wait, Didn’t You Say You Believed in Tomarry?

What I believe in are archetypes.

Remove what Harry’s supposed to be, remove what I think he actually is (one maladjusted, violent, dude with a whole lot of anger issues), let’s make Harry what perhaps JKR didn’t even know she wanted: one of those rare fundamentally good heroes who warps an entire story with the strength of their inner nobility.

Harry Potter is meant to be a story about love and friendship. Now, it’s not actually, and we sort of end with Harry being Jesus and none of us are sure why. Except that he apparently forgives Dumbledore and Snape for brainwashing him to be a kamikaze agent. They’re the bravest men he knows. But let’s pretend it actually is a story about love and friendship.

To me, the strongest story of love we could possibly have had in this world is the redemption of Tom Riddle. Here is a man who was supposed to have been irredeemable since birth, he has done many horrific and unforgiveable things, grew up in extreme hardship in a society that spits on everything he ever was, and is mired in bitterness, despair, and rage. Beneath all that, Tom Riddle has given up hope in the world and is now content to burn it down himself.

Harry, through the nobility of his spirit and integrity of his character, somehow managing to redeem Tom Riddle is not only a fascinating story but a very good one at its core. The fact that they are tied together by destiny as well as tragedy, that Harry houses a shard of Tom’s soul (and I do so love horcruxes), only makes it more so.

This is the kind of story that carries epics, and that is why I gravitate towards it.

Now, do I change Harry up to do so? Good god, yes. I wouldn’t say any Harry Potter I have written is anything close to the Harry we know from canon. Some are closer than others, but they always in some way deviate. That said, from what I’ve seen almost nobody writes the actual Harry we remember from canon, so this is a very standard practice I can get away with, without too many people calling foul.

Ultimately ending in tragedy or in the full redemption of Tom: either works with these base characterizations and the world is your oyster.

What About All Those Other Arguments?

I’m not going to get into this too much except that I wouldn’t argue Tomarry works for the reasons you list. At all.

On the similar backgrounds, the fact is Harry and Tom don’t have similar backgrounds, JKR just says they do because she likes that trope (and so do many of the readers).

Harry and Tom have dark hair, they both came from abusive homes, but that’s where the similarities start and end. Upon entering the wizarding world Harry is treated very very very differently from Tom Riddle.

Harry, grows up in this weird sort of pseudo poverty where he dresses in rags because the Dursley’s hate him but he never actually has to worry about money. When he gets to the wizarding world he can afford everything he wants. He can buy a new wand, he can buy new supplies, he can buy all the candy off the trolly cart. Money’s not an object to Harry, is barely even a concept.

Tom Riddle is presumably on scholarship and money is everything to him. He buys a new wand but likely all his clothes and books are second hand. He can’t buy whatever candy he wants, probably can’t afford gifts for his peers, Tom is very aware of the haves and have nots.

Harry similarly never has to worry about a career. He never gets that far, fearing for his life so much, but the fact is that Harry has enough money that he doesn’t actually need to work. More, who would turn down the great Harry Potter? He wants to be an auror, is afraid he might not qualify, but it’s not really desperate.

Tom Riddle is to the world an impoverished muggle born. He tries for the Defense position and is turned down mostly because Dumbledore threw shade. Dumbledore tries to make it seem like Tom desperately wanted to work in this weird shop in London’s magical back alley, but probably that was the only position Tom could get (everything Dumbledore ever says, especially in those pensieve lessons, must be taken with a large grain of salt). Everything else goes to friends, family, and purebloods.

Adding to this, Harry has this glowing reputation. Now, Harry might not like it, he might want to be just Harry but the fact is that everyone has heard of him and most people worship the ground he walks on. Doors are open to him everywhere. His first introduction to the wizarding world is from a man who loves him and gushes about Harry as a baby.

Tom Riddle is someone with a muggle last name, who comes from a muggle orphanage, in other words he is nobody from nowhere. (For reasons I won’t get into here I find it very doubtful Tom ever revealed he was the heir of Slytherin until he became Voldemort and let Tom Riddle fade into obscurity). His first introduction to the wizarding world is some asshole lighting all his stuff on fire because the matron talked shit about him.

Harry wants to stay at Hogwarts because the Dursleys are abusive. Yes, this is terrible, but Tom wants to stay because Nazis are bombing London and Dippet says, “So sorry, Tom, no exceptions. Enjoy those luffas!” Harry’s concerns are never treated with the same disdain.

To make a long story short, they do not have similar backgrounds, at all. To say they do is utterly laughable and not much better than saying “they both have dark hair, they have so much in common!”

They both came from abusive homes, yes, but even the nature of those homes were very different and when they went to Hogwarts they were worlds apart.

... So much for not getting into it, eh?

As for Enemies to Lovers, well, it’s a trope and people enjoy it but it’s not my jam. I could go into why, but I think I’ve said enough.

Which Horcrux Do You Think Harry Would Go Best With?

We see so little of the individual horcruxes I’m not sure I can really take a stab at this. I sort of just make up their personalities as it suits me every time I write them.

With that I suppose I’m partial to the one in Harry’s head? Given that he has a front row seat to Harry, has seen Voldemort’s tragic demise, I think he’s in the best position to end up with Harry in a meaningful manner.

Especially as, if you think about it, he could represent the very last of Tom Riddle’s humanity. The single shard of humanity that remained in him until the bitter end.

#ask #anon #tom riddle #harry potter #headcanons #tomarry #archetypes #redemption #enemies to lovers

[densi-mber]

Celebration

A/N: The return of our second favorite Russian criminal. For today’s prompt. This assumes that Deeks is able to attend FLETC or grandfathered into the NCIS for years of service.

***

“Congratulations Mr. Deeks, or rather Agent Deeks,” Hetty said grandly. He stooped to give her a hug, squeezing her as tightly as felt safe without hurting her.

“Thanks, Hetty. You really outdid yourself with this party. This is, wow, I definitely didn’t expect any of this.”

He turned to take in the elegant tables covered with white tablecloths and fancy appetizers and black and silver balloon. Through some magic, Hetty had somehow managed to arrange a banquet in his honor and invite several dozen law enforcement officers, Julia, and his mom all without him realizing.

“You have Nell to thank for most of this. She was very eager to make sure that everything was just so. And you deserve it.”

“Well, I still appreciate it,” he insisted. “Even though you almost gave me a heart attack when I first walked in.”

“Always so dramatic, Mr. Deeks. Now, you enjoy yourself. I saw Director Vance skulking by the dessert table and I’d like to have a word with him.”

Shaking his head, Deeks glanced around the room again. His mom was in what appeared to be a very animated conversation with Sabatino, a glass of white wine in one hand. He snorted at the vague look of discomfort on Sabatino’s face and wondered if he was being treated to a retelling of Deeks’ birth.

“Having a good time?” Kensi asked, coming up behind him. She rested her chin on his shoulder and loosely wrapped her arms around him.

“Honestly, I’m a little overwhelmed, but yes, I’m having a good time.” He craned his head to look at her. “Is it common practice to have a celebration when you become an agent?” Kensi shrugged.

“Not really. But you know people aren’t going to pass up the opportunity to have free food and drinks.”

“True.” She circled around to face him and brushed his bangs back, her smile nod.

“Plus, you’ve worked really hard to get here and deserve the recognition,” she added. “I’m so proud of you baby.”

“Oh, it is indeed a impressive accomplishment, Marty.”

“Oh my god, no,” Deeks muttered, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. “Kensi?”

“Yup, it’s him,” she confirmed. He turned around slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Kirkin.” Anatoli Kirkin smiled at him, taking a step forward with his arms extended, like he planned to embrace Deeks.”

“Marty,” he said. Deeks took a step back while Kensi’s grip on his hand tightened. Kirkin looked mildly disappointed by their reaction, but didn’t attempt further contact.

What are you doing here?” Kensi asked. And more importantly, how did you even get in? This is a closed party.” Kirkin smiled at them benignly.

“I heard about this from a friend and just couldn’t pass up the opportunity to celebrate with you.”

“That’s, uh, that’s very kind of you Kirkin. I guess,” Deeks said as diplomatically as he could.

“And Kensi, as always it is a great pleasure to see you. I’m sure you’re taking good care of our Marty,” Kirkin continued. Deeks made a face at “our Marty”, but didn’t comment. Past experience had taught him that it was easier to go with Kirkin’s delusions most of the time.

“Thanks,” Kensi said with an awkward smile.

“That dress is absolutely divine. And Maaarty, that suit fits you like a glove. That blue brings out the color in your eyes perfectly.” Kirkin continued looking Deeks up and down and gave a shuddery little sigh.

“Kirkin-“

“I see you cut your hair as well. It’s a pity to see those lovely curls, but I suppose in time it will grow again.” He suddenly moved forward again, apparently unable to help himself, and briefly made contact with Deeks’ cheek.

“Hey, no touching,” Kensi said firmly. She didn’t raise her voice, but Kirkin still blanched, obviously remembering suddenly that she could easily take him down without breaking a sweat or her platform stilettos.

“I apologize,” Kirkin murmured, looking a little embarrassed. He smoothed down his tie, drawing in a shallow breath. “It appears I’ve over stayed my welcome for today.” Deeks started to relax a little, until Kirkin added, “But I want to give you your present before you go.”

“What is it with you and presents?” Deeks asked, but Kirkin either didn’t hear him or was ignoring him. He reached into his suit jacket-Kensi tensed again-and removed a slim box from his inner pocket. As always, it was wrapped in the finest of papers and an ornate bow.

“A token of my deep and abiding affection,” Kirkin said solemnly, offering Deeks the package.

“Again, this really wasn’t necessary.” He really hoped it wasn’t another nude. It would just be like Kirkin to give him a handy wallet-sized print. With this thought in mind, he gingerly opened the box while Kensi peered over his shoulder.

Instead of something wildly inappropriate, he found a burnished platinum tie clip. It was surprisingly simple and in good taste with only the brand’s label on the front, in the far left corner.

Kensi made a slightly disappointed noise and he gave her a mildly disgusted look. Only she would be upset that Kirkin hadn’t gifted him with an imagined naked rendering of him.

“I figured it would be useful to you now that you’re an agent,” Kirkin explained hopefully. “There’s a small message on the back. I had it specially engraved.”

Deeks lifted it out, flipping it around to read the minute flowing script.

“To my dear friend Martin. Think of me when you wear this.”

“Oh, that’s actually pretty nice. Thanks, Kirkin,” Deeks said, feeling oddly touched.

“At least this way I can feel close to you even when society objects.”

“Society is the only one objecting,” Kensi said under her breath.

“As I said it was just a token of my affection. Now I really must be going. My men will be worrying about me by now,” he said. Then before either of them could react, he’d wrapped his arms around Deeks.

“Agh, ok we’re doing this. We’re really doing this,” Deeks groaned.

“Remember, I’m always a call away,” Kirkin whispered. He stepped back from Deeks, gripping his forearms firmly. “Goodbye Marty.”

As Kirkin walked away, Deeks finally let himself shudder.

“Are you ok?” Kensi asked, resting her hand on his chest.

“Yeah, I’m good. I might need to burn this suit though.”

“Let’s get you something to drink.” Kensi squeezed his arm soothingly, leading him towards a table loaded with large quantities of alcohol.

“Can you burn titanium?” he asked idly.

***

A/N: And as always, I have to throw in at least one “Maaarty” when writing Kirkin. Also, if you haven’t read my previous Kirkin stories-you should-I’ve written several where Kirkin gives Deeks a series of wildly inappropriate gifts.

#densimber 2020 #densimber 4.0 #densimber day 14 #densi #marty deeks #kensi blye #Kirkin #ncis la fanfiction #by ejzah

[jeongyunhoed]

Just One Day

Wooyoung/OC Inspired by “Before Midnight” The topics are pretty adult, and when I mean adult, it’s like those conversations about the future, not smutty things. There is implied smut. 

If you haven’t read Just One Night, here it is. This is the second part of the whole word vomit-y story. 

Two years. Two years since Wooyoung met whom he’d now call the love of his life on the train back to the city. Two years since that day their hours-long conversations blossomed into a relationship the next day. The two of them had already settled into a routine, having decided to live together in a small apartment that Jea would always say was a steal given how expensive it was nowadays to live alone. He still kept up with his dance crew’s residency gigs, sometimes in the country, sometimes overseas. He would be away for a few weeks at a time, but he didn’t complain. He loved dancing, and he had his hopes of being able to do this full-time, without another job. What he looked forward to the most after every residency gig was coming home to Jea, and the two of them usually spent that night he’d come home in bed. 

As for her, she managed to get out of her freelancing rut and worked full-time from home. She never expected to take on an administrative job,especially from home, but she took it anyway as it helped her pay the rent and everything she needed. 

But over the past several months, both Wooyoung and Jea were facing separate challenges that led them to be unusually quiet towards each other, sometimes one or both of them would snap. It didn’t lead to one or the other trying to make things right either, as both of them ended up sleeping with the arguments of yesterday and the days before hanging over their heads. Wooyoung was facing the possibility that he may not be allowed to dance as well as he would anymore, after suffering from a minor injury that turned out to have serious consequences if he pushed it further. He was made to take a break. 

Jea was facing with an increased workload as the company she worked for was going through a crisis. The heavy workload caused her to burn out, and the quality of her work, at least according to her bosses, was diminishing. She knew she could be fired or at least placed on probation. Her other bosses weren’t making her job any easier as well as neither seemed to agree on one decision and would rather berate her than help her out. 

They eventually made up, yet knew that there was still some frustration despite being okay again. Jea returned from doing grocery shopping, seeing Wooyoung seated on the couch and watching tv. “I’m home” She quietly announced, taking her shoes off. 

Wooyoung got up upon seeing her. He didn’t say anything and instead helped her with the groceries to bring into the kitchen. “I was going to ask if you wanted to eat out today, but seeing as you’re now back, I guess we could stay in and cook��� He suggested, watching her put her bag down and remove her coat to hang. 

“We could still go out to eat, you know. There’s this new restaurant that just opened, maybe we could check it out and see what’s good there” She said, leaning against the counter as Wooyoung approached her. 

“I’ll change my clothes, then” He said, padding into their bedroom to get dressed. 

As soon as he was ready, they left the apartment. “Two years feels like a long time, doesn’t it? Can you believe it? Two years?” She mused when they were finally outside. 

“Seems like forever, yeah” Wooyoung nodded, holding her hand as they walked down the street. “You know, not too long ago, I had this dream, I didn’t get to say it because you were snippy at me that day,” He recalled, squeezing her hand. Jea glanced at him from time to time. “In my dream, we were married, and we had probably six or seven kids because I apparently wanted to make as many babies as I had groupmates,” He chuckled. “But then I kept seeing you cry. You were always crying in the corner while we’d watch those kids eat or play. Whenever I’d go up to you and ask what’s wrong, you just end up disappearing...” He trailed off, his expression falling. 

Jea glanced at him. “It was probably because of those six or seven kids. I can only take so much pain from childbirth” She nudged him. “But maybe it’s because that might be our life together somehow, sometime in the future... that kind of thing scares me a little, I have to admit.” 

“That we’ll have settled down and started a family?” Wooyoung asked. 

“Yeah, and with settling down, I’m afraid of a lot of things. Like, will you still put up with me even if my body’s not the way it used to be after having kids? Will you still think I’m attractive or something like the way you thought when we first met? will you still love me at all by that time?” Jea said quietly, somehow feeling her eyes well with tears at the thought. 

Wooyoung squeezed her hand, and the two of them stopped walking. They had reached the restaurant where they were supposed to go. “You’re actually thinking about those?” He said. 

“I have been. I mean, what if we get boring, what if I get boring, what if you get bored of me? What if nothing’s exciting anymore?” Jea said. 

“Why would you think I’d get bored with you?” He asked, a little surprised with what he was hearing. 

“Because I know you love to dance, I know that’s your dream, I know you love dancing more than anything, and knowing that you might not be able to do that as much anymore and that I won’t be able to do anything for you in that area? You’ll get bored with me...” Jea muttered. 

“Are you asking me if I loved dancing more than you? Is that a trick question?” Wooyoung managed to say. “Are you suggesting I valued that more than what I have with you?” 

“Come on, you’re not used to staying in with me for a long period of time. You’re used to being away for weeks at a time that the thought of you having to stay in a lot more than before probably annoys you so much” Jea said. “It’s cabin fever, Wooyoung. We’re getting cabin fever.” 

“It’s not cabin fever, it’s just you being so insecure. You’ve been so insecure that no matter how much I tell you otherwise you still doubt yourself” Wooyoung pointed out, his hand still holding hers tightly. They were getting snippy again, and it made them press on instead of go inside the restaurant. 

~ 

There was silence between them as they somehow reached a park. “What happened? Have we kept this in to ourselves for a while?” Wooyoung muttered as they sat down on a bench. He turned to her, hand still holding hers tightly and their fingers laced together. 

“Probably. We don’t talk the way we used to anymore. We’ve already gotten so used to a routine” She said quietly. “Why does it have to be like this? It takes us a while to make up, our arguments about the little things somehow get blown out of proportion, we end up taking out our frustrations with everything and everyone else out on each other.” 

He nodded. “Because we have nothing else to take it out on. Because our ideas about the world have changed in a span of two years, maybe we’ve become so set on ideal things, ideal love, ideal relationship, ideal life, ideal career, that when the veil gets lifted, we get so disillusioned, almost like everything we’ve ever known has become such a joke, a hidden camera prank taken too far.” 

Jea looked down at their hands. The last thing she wanted to do at that moment was to let go, and she knew Wooyoung wasn’t going to. “I once knew a guy, who was charming and sweet, and I felt that I could talk to him, and that when he giggled or laughed, it was the cutest thing.” 

“That’s still me, I’m still that guy” He said. “I’m still that guy you found to be charming and sweet. I’m still that guy you could talk to, and I’m still that guy whose laugh makes you laugh. It’s still me, we’ve just grown” Wooyoung explained. “What we have may not be perfect, but it’s there, it’s real, you and me, we’re real,” 

Jea only sighed, and Wooyoung moved closer. “You know what I’ve noticed now? We’re behaving like a couple that’s been together for more than two years” He whispered. “The problem with couples nowadays is that they let other things get in the way, they don’t make the effort anymore.” 

“That’s because times have changed. It was probably simpler back then, decades ago, probably, maybe before and a little after the war, but things have changed,” Jea said. “Things are a lot harder now, everything ends up like a chore, that we just end up doing out of obligation. We’re like robots in a society controlled by dirty old men.” 

Wooyoung sighed. “Your bosses probably think that way, but I don’t. Is it so bad that we’re growing and changing?” 

“No,” Jea shook her head. “It just means that time is passing by so fast. Even if we behave like two people who have been together for more than two years, for a decade, time still goes by so fast that I’d do anything to make it slow down even just for a day.” 

“Time you spent wasting was never wasted to begin with” Wooyoung murmured as the two of them watched a few kids play at the jungle gym, their parents standing close by to keep an eye on them, yet their arms were linked and they were laughing to themselves about something one of them said. “You make it seem like you’ll only get through this, this whole thing, your fears, alone. You keep forgetting I’m here, facing those things with you whether you want to or not.” 

Jea squeezed his hand, noticing how their fingers were still intertwined. “I wonder how in the world do you put up with me whenever I’m being this shitty to you.” 

“I wonder the same thing, how you can also put up with someone like me,” Wooyoung said. “But when those thoughts come, I just think, at least I know I won’t be alone whenever I feel down about not being able to dance as well as I used to, at least there is someone who will accept me, all of me, even the shitty parts of myself, the things I hate about myself, at least I know you’re there,” He kissed the back of her hand. “You have to always remember that. That we’re in this together, and I promise you, that even if that dream of mine comes true, I’d still always think you were that pretty girl I met on the train.” 

Jea turned to him. “Truth seems stranger than fiction.” 

“Because it’s the universe’s way of telling us that our lives are a lot more interesting than we think” Wooyoung replied. He stood up. “Come, let’s eat. We can talk about how power rangers always dress in their colors” He said, a small smile spread across his face.

Jea stood up as well. “It makes having to dress up easier” She pointed out, a small smile also on her face as he pulled her close while they walked. 

~ 

By the afternoon, their clothes were strewn all over the bedroom floor, and the two of them looked flushed and spent. Jea’s head was on his chest, and he idly played with her hair as they tried to catch their breaths. “I just realized it’s the weekend” She muttered, her eyes closed. 

“Yeah, and I have plans to make with you” Wooyoung teased. 

“Like what?” 

“Where we could go on a vacation, we could use some time off, go on leave, or just never leave this apartment, or this room, to be exact” 

Jea looked up at him. “Really?” She chuckled. 

“Yeah, because I want to show you how I’d still think you’re the prettiest with or without clothes” A giggle escaped his lips. 

“It’s so hard to find that sexy when you laugh like that, it makes you cute” A playful frown formed on Jea’s lips. 

“Good to know I can be both” Wooyoung laughed and kissed her. Jea suddenly shifted, lifting the covers off of her. “Where are you going?” He asked. 

“We just had sex, we’re both sweaty, we need to take a shower or else we’ll catch a cold” She pointed out, putting only her underwear back on. “Join me, we can go for round two in there” She teased, and Wooyoung got out of bed, excitedly following her to the bathroom. 

#well #more word vomit #i was going through it #it needed to be let out #in the woo feels #ateez #wooyoung #jung wooyoung

[bloxdstained]

&.  inbar lavi : female : she/her : free by maria mena  —  It seems talia levy has been seen walking around Volterra. the 32/38# -year-old vampire has been in the city for over a year. Whispers in volterra says they’re part of the london coven. doesn’t paint covered hands, free spirited suggestions, the smell of lilacs remind you of them?   ⸢  penned by sirius : 29 : gmt+1 : pronouns: she/her

history ; 

talia came to England as a ten year old, sent to her aunt with her brother as their parents wanted a better life for them. 

moving from Cairo to the english country side of York was a huge adjustment though the time that the siblings spent there was fairly quiet and filled with scenic and idyllic nature. 

when her brother had just turned sixteen, talia thirteen at the time, their aunt died suddenly of a heart attack. the siblings scrambled, but ran rather than be caught up in social services. 

both worked very hard, talia’s brother making sure she could continue her education when they found places to settle down, but until he was nineteen and able to get a job, they moved around a lot. 

when her brother did land a steady job working construction, they settled down for longer at a time, but since the construction industry was a bit fickle in smaller towns, they kept spending times in large cities. 

talia was a very talented artist and used what money she could gather to buy charcoals, paint and canvases to express her art, which she would sell when she could. 

this was how she met her mate Bentley as he bought one of her pictures. they hung out a little after that, but were mere aquaintances until tragedy struck. at the time she and her brother lived in Barcelona, Spain. 

one night, talia woke to the sound of furniture breaking, rushing into the living room. there she found her brother being attacked. or that was what it looked like at first glance. he was being drained by a vampire. 

the creature saw talia and flashed its teeth at her, demon red eyes shining at her in the dark. but a neighbour had heard the commotion and called the police, which the vampire heard coming, so it fled. 

for a while after that, talia’s life spun out of control. she had just gotten her license as a professional tattoo artist, but her job prospects saw no light in the wake of her brothers death. 

she felt like she was going crazy as no one would believe something inhuman had killed her only family. which caused her to drink and try drugs. 

luckily for talia, bentley realized just how badly off she was after a drunken confession of it all and did his best to help her get back on her feet, back to normal. even if talia didn’t know what normal looked like anymore. 

though with his help she did manage to start looking forward and seeking help instead of spiraling too much further down. she went to grief counseling and AA, and the two of them grew closer. 

they remained close and at some point talia realized they were all but dating, no longer just friends. at that point she didn’t mind, despite being a little apprehensive due to a serious of toxic and bad relationships with men in her past. 

bentley proved to her that not all men are assholes, and that love was worth the risk. not to mention that he gave her life color and purpose again after such a monumental loss. 

had it not been for him, talia wouldn’t know where she would have ended up and she still finds herself thanking god and fate, all that is that he came into her life when he did. 

while the revelation that he was a vampire came as a small shock, she was too in love with him to allow it to break them apart, and relieved to hear that he felt the same way. 

while it took her some years, she came to the decision to ask him to turn her six years ago, ready to spend eternity with him and try to conquer vampirism. 

at first it was a real challenge, the bloodlust so strong coupled with her intense fear of killing anyone. but with time, and her mates help, she got better at it. 

now she only feeds when she really has to, unable to make a sport or game out of taking blood for sustenance. 

she joined her mates coven mostly because he asked her to consider it, as she’s fairly skeptical of other vampires still and unsure who to trust. 

she also came to volterra because Bentley wanted to. the mere thought of the original vampires scares her shitless, but he is the only one she’s expressed this too, not wanting to seem weak or easy to intimidate. 

talia works as a tattoo artist and owner of her own studio in volterra. she also sells her paintings to the galleries in town and frequently visits, loving to be surrounded by art. 

personality ; 

talia is someone who thinks of herself as a good person, and genuinely likes to give everyone she meets a chance. she’s open, kind and curious. 

her kindness and openness is also tied to her religion as a sunni muslim. she believes that allah loves all, and that to be a good person you have to see everyone you meet as equal and as people worth knowing. also growing up in a very set culture made her oh so curious about other cultures and she loves meeting new people with perspectives that differs from hers. 

because she is so open, she often ends up being a little naive, which can at times endanger her or put her in difficult situations. 

with vampires she is naturally skeptical, though this isn’t apparent until she knows for sure that they are indeed undead. until thats proven she is her talkative, curious and easygoing self. 

while she isn’t too fond of drinking or smoking to excess, she’s started to do so more with her mate whom she feels safe to do so with. the smoking more of a habit now that her lungs can’t be affected. 

talia has a free spirit, and isn’t fond of being constricted by the laws, views or common thoughts of society. its lead her to be quite adventurous, even more so as its something she and Bentley share. 

fun facts ; 

used to be a very good cook and even made bentley sick when cooking for him

was the type to hook up a lot without strings and considers her bedroom skills fairly decent. also loves to banter with people, even if its just for fun. 

has a few tattoos herself in very specific places 

can’t sing to save her life but is the type to walk around humming or sing in the shower 

used to have a very messy and scrappy wardrobe because she couldn’t afford clothes, but have since begun dressing pretty clean and modern. aka dress to impress. 

loves to paint abstract as well as realistic 

adores her mates cats and have suggested they get a female one too

drinks red wine but also vodka and rum, sometimes whiskey and bourbon. 

#sanguis:intro #( about talia. ) #( I am fragile I am hopeless I'm not perfect but I am free ; talia. )

[seeksstaronmewni]

Samurai Jack Season 5 in Review: EPISODE XCVI

Things can change greatly when one is open enough to see the truth.

As the episode’s TV spot promoted (as with earlier TV spots for the season in general), it’s time for the Scotsman episode of Season 5! Enough said.

NOW, as the Scotsman proclaimed, “NOW we... CHAAAAAAAAAAAAARGE!!!!!”

This’s the first episode in Season 5 to be rated TV-PG-V (for “moderate” violence), although it’s not really that violent. It clearly could be TV-Y7-FV, but I guess that Cartoon Network is concerned about easily imitable violence such as kicking and punching (unlike Disney Channel/Disney XD), so it may never be TV-Y7 again.

NOTE: Obviously, I started working on this post on Memorial Day of 2020 in honor of our dear Scotsman. Anyway, I’m curious as to what was going on with the Scotsman’s family and what they were plotting, during the time that we’re focusing on Jack and Ashi... but we still have 40 episodes to come until the series is complete. I was too busy or lazy to finish the post before the end of the day or month (for that matter, I was mostly inactive on it for 6 months), but I’m slowly back on it, so WACH’OUT!

We start with Aku’s place... which appears much more barren than it was in EPISODE I. The episode is another Andrews-Tartakovsky duo-boarding. Just the sound of wind, but no mist full of demons for some reason. Perhaps some bombing or missile attack cleared Aku’s yard?

A tank rolls over to the edge of Aku’s yard. A soldier within signals the other tanks to advance with his horn. These tanks are designed by the late and great Chris Reccardi and @heydusty​.

The camera streaks further back to reveal another army of men riding a 20-legged, rhino-like creature, in armor similar to the exterior of the tanks. He signals his army with his horn, too.

How about another army, then?

Signaled by a woman with her bagpipes, she leads her army...

a whole army of women

Talk about girl power... compared to The Powerpuff Girls, which stopped in 2019 and wasn’t nostalgically correct enough for the last 3 seasons anyway.

Whichever one I find most attractive all depends on which hairstyle looks most attractive... like the one in the bottom right corner. Aside from that, they pretty much all look and sound the same.

The sound of wheels grows audible. Who is that man in the wheelchair?

He has a machine gun for his left leg. Slowly, the camera, defocused except on his leg, eases out.

“Ha ha! We found him!”

It is, indeed, the Scotsman. The hype-inducing Scotsman!

And he’s pretty much ready to fight!

Well... except for one thing...

“I take you out for a day of battle, and you’re dressed like you’re goin’ dancin’!”

She’s kind of bashful. Isn’t she, Scotsman?

Flora was apparently out of appropriate uniform... not that it’s the time for dancing, or dance-fighting, however they intended to take Aku down face-to-face. She looks kind of hot, but this’s not the time to be thinking about fashion or a sultry appearance.

“That goes for all of you.”

“Cover yourself!” the Scotsman yells; “You’ll catch your death of cold!” He definitely cares about his daughters--I know not how many he has, but it’s an army’s worth--but I don’t think that they’re really cold at all.

What season is it, anyway?

(Oh, and, for the shot above, Flora has tiny dot eyes X3)

“Now”, the Scotsman proclaims, “we... CHAAAAAAAAAAAAARGE!”

“EYAAAAHHHHH” he shouts excitedly, as Flora drives him into battle.

The Scotsman’s army rolls into battle, firing with some nicely-colored smoke.

*p-powaa-p-p-powaa-powaa-p-powaa-aa*

Yep. There’s that more familiar Universal/Hanna-Barbera explosion, like one would hear in Seasons 1-6 of The Powerpuff Girls, serving as the sole sound effect for this shot and repeating itself. Joel Valentine’s uses of these classic explosions are probably different from those on Sound Ideas’ Universal & H-B sound libraries as these’re cleaner in quality.

The armored creatures apparently shoot some pretty hot snot out of their trunks, leaving us to wonder what this particular animal ultimately is. That classic Anime whistle (kind of sounds like “SHELL SCREAMING WHINE DOWN”) becomes audible as the bunch of hot snot falls toward Aku’s place.

“It seems we are under attack”, Aku overhears. “Under attack?” Aku highlights, beginning to consider use for this opportunity as he slowly stretches his beard. Aku takes a peek at the war through his own kind of TV or something. “Perhaps annihilating this scum will break me out of my...

me-lai-i-i-i-i-se.” Aku streak immediately upward.

Meanwhile, the Scotsman was firing HIS LEG gun... (footage that the last TV spot advertised for the coming of Season 5 in March, well before this episode itself was advertised, also showing the same footage)

Not sure at what HIS LEG gun was firing, since Aku wasn’t out, until...

*bwssss! wb-wb-wb-wb!*

...Aku rockets out of his place...

...trailing blazing fire as he turns into a giant ball...

...bowling his way over all of the tanks. The armored creatures on which 1/3 of the army rides are next!

“You know what?” The Scotsman said, come to his senses. “This was a bad idea! Time to go, girls.” Protective of his many daughters,  the Scotsman knew what to do in such a disastrous moment: “I’ll stall him while you escape.”

“I’m sorry, old man; I think you are lost.”

Just as Aku was about to make the annihilation complete, a voice froze him: “Hold it! You’re not goin’ anywhere, you big buffoon”. Not knowing who this guy was at all, Aku looked down upon him... and he seemed pretty serious, even though he met not this guy before at all.

“The samurai is still out there, inspirin’ people by the thousands!”

“I ain’t lost, y’ tree ogre!” The Scotsman talked back, pushing his insults further and further. “After all these years, you’re powerless against him... afraid to show yourself ‘cause you know he’s out there, and you can’t do anything about it!”

“Ah ha ha! You’re just a big baby! Why don’t you go cry to your mama--”

Aku was not in the mood for being “roasted”.

*wshiiiiiing*

A third of a sword flung out of the explosion.

Aku burned him.

*psst*

Aku burned him good.

Those catchlight-y eyes don’t lie, Flora.

OK; “highlights” would be the more common term.

This’s why I began writing this post on Memorial Day 2020.

When you roast Aku, Aku roasts you back.

“Why did he bring, up, the samurai?”

A relative question: If Aku cares no longer, what else has Aku to do with his life? Must he be evil? Some centuries worth since he started ruling... I guess that the Scotsman was just trying to make Aku upset, when he could speak a better conversation than mostly insult him.

Flora stabs the remainder of the sword into the ground by his ashes. There is some inscription on it that should be interesting to decode. I wonder if there’s an Easter egg in its words...

“I be back--and in me prime, no less!”

BOOM! Souls don’t die! Of course, rather than probably being in Heaven, he’s more of a ghost who’s still able and willing... by Celtic magic, which apparently connects to the inscription on his very sacred sword. “We’ll find Jack” he plots, “and finally defeat that BIG BABY!”

Anyways... one night, probably very far away from wherever Aku’s place is, Ashi was doing some thinking.

She grew up with her mom, who claimed that Aku created everything, but now she met Jack, who told her that Aku had the world ravaged.

Ashi was raised to believe that “The samurai is the poison killing the land”... as if Aku even cared at that point; she never even met Aku. Jack’s wisdom begat conflict in her mind: “If you... let go of (your) hate, you will see the truth.”

At least it’s an otherwise peacful night.

Well. It was.

“I have questions, mother.”

Ashi began to hallucinate (or it was some kind of weird fever dream... I know not) as the moon turned into her mother’s mask. “The samurai sleeps”, she slips through her mouth. “Kill him in his slumber before he wakes!”

“How DARE you?!”

I suppose this’s what comes of wishing for the moon.

Ashi was not ready to act on instinct as this samurai saved her life, but her vision was merciless. She had questions (and had the... moon failed??? Well not the moon, just her mom), and frankly one could question if she or her mother knew who exactly the samurai was and what he looked like. She was apparently secluded from the rest of society and we know little of her life growing up, so of course she’d have questions.

From there, that very island, Ashi’s journey began, and the next morning Jack found a sea dragon to continue the journey.

Although the dolphin chirps act as a faint, echo-y sound in the scene, they stand out as more unique recording than the stereotypical Hollywood Edge recordings one would hear pretty much everywhere else, like in Spongebob or whatever.

The sea dragon submerges into the ocean and makes a giant leap into the sky! Not sure why, but it probably got them closer to land.

ANIME LINES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It might not seem too noticeable, but the animation right here looks a bit... tight/slow-paced or whatever. Korean animation’s been thinning out on ln-betweens since, like 2016 for some reason, but they still put more effort on this Cartoon Network Studios project than most right now.

“I shall not forget your kindness.”

The sea dragon gives him a snort and a roar of... gratitude?

Jack and Ashi finally made it to a bigger land (and probably not just a bigger island). Now where would they go from here?

“Goodbye.”

It looks like Jack was just going to part ways.

I’ll continue working on this post later, preferably/almost daily if not weekly. (I’ve just been very slow mentally and more autistic this year than I ever realized)

#samurai jack #scotsman #the scotsman #chris reccardi #cartoon network studios #cartoon network #hanna-barbera cartoons #hanna barbera cartoons #sara kipin #sheldon vella #stephen destefano #genndy tartakovsky #april 2017 #toonami #adult swim #[as] #[adult swim] #aku #action #ashi #samurai #Celtic magic #memorial day

[thephant0mime]

Dragon Age Origins Fanfiction

So recently, I’ve looked at the first fanfiction I’ve written three years ago as I’m struck with a case of low motivation to continue my current projects. I’m currently struggling with making my writing immersive but the problem is, I have a weird reaction to that. A beta reader once told me to write it through my character’s senses because my current writing is not making readers connect with the character. Problem is, when I try to write as if I’m in my characters’ head, it feels weirdly violating, Like I’m committing mind rape to them. Probably because I write my characters as If they’re real, and I just give them the plot for them to react to it and I to record what they do with it. My characters rarely end up as I intended at first. So this immersion thing really messes up our dynamic and it’s affecting my current works to the point I’ve stopped writing altogether.

Anyway, I read my old finished fanfiction again and while I think it’s not as good as I thought then, it also surprised me. I’ve forgotten some of the old jokes and it made me laugh both because I enjoy it and surprised that I’ve actually wrote those funny things. Then an idea to solve my current problem appeared in my head and I’m testing it out to see if it works.

This is only an excerpt, but I’m planning a rework of my old fic for publication soon. It’s about the Fifth Blight and narrated by Philliam, A Bard wrote it like an interview style/non-fiction book. The old fic in question: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13074672/chapters/29909850

Chapter 2

Paragons are the elite of dwarven society and their symbol of dwarven excellence. They are the equivalent of gods in our society, for dwarves worship their ancestors and they consider paragons a living Ancestor, carrying the wisdom and will of the departed ones. They can be drawn from any caste, even the casteless, which is the only way one can change their caste upward. The house of one of our heroes was descended from such a Paragon.

The Noble House of Aeducan was founded when their ancestor became a Paragon for leading the dwarves against the darkspawn during the Fifth Blight and saved their race. Currently, they were the ruling, royal house of Orzammar, of which our hero belongs. 

Now he would have told his tale from when he was recruited into the wardens, but that would not give us an idea of his character. Coaxing him to start during his time in Orzammar before his recruitment was difficult, as I understood it was painful for him to recount those events the most, but I managed it, as you shall see.

Thorin Aeducan’s story:

I am Thorin Aeducan, the second child of King Endrin Aeducan. I have two brothers; Trian was the eldest and the heir apparent and Bhelen the youngest. We grew up close as only boys do, until our coming of age where we went to our separate ways; Trian to train under our father to succeed him and me and Bhelen off to the army and lead them against the eternal threat of darkspawn. Fighting in the Deep Roads wasn’t much to Bhelen’s liking and went off to live like a pampered prince in the Diamond Quarter. I, meanwhile, see no better life than among those who fight and shed bled with each other.

Probably the first sign I had that everything would change for me occurred on the day I was ordered back by my Father to the city to honor my work in the Deep Roads. It started harmless enough, in my room at the palace, as Gorim assisted me in dressing up for the feast. I donned the antique armor of my grandfather which was more showy than practical. The burnished metal was too bright, the metal too thin and the shape too bulky. Looking at my reflection, I could see I was uncomfortable in it. My body was accustomed to my regular armor, which I think was molded from spending too much time fighting it grew callused to make them fit. While not-ill fitting, the ceremonial armor I was wearing was sending danger signals in my mind which I could not shake as Gorim laughing softly behind me, in the same spirit as if he just caught me wearing my grandmother’s gowns.

“Not to your taste, my lord?” he asked, dressed decently in armor that was as not as pretentious as the one I was wearing. His grin made even his wide face wider and his whole face was effusive as the light from the torch was caught in his simply styled, but neat, copper hair.

I looked away from my reflection to his smiling face as he held a matching antique sword in his hand. Then I looked down on myself. “This belongs in the Shaperate,” I said, as I readjust the straps of the gauntlet again.

“Hardly, my lord. If you’re concerned about it breaking apart due to age, then worry not. It was crafted by excellent smiths whose skill is still unsurpassed by anyone alive. It would certainly withstand some bit of walking.”

I groaned. “Not that. It just feels…wrong. This,” I pointed in the mirror at the shoulder guard, which was comically large enough to use as a shield, “isn’t something I’d think to be good to wear. How am I supposed to move in this thing?”

“That was the point. It’s meant to catch attention as fast as possible,” Gorim said, stepping closer to my side. “Its size was supposed to show the breadth of your strength and power and make everyone looking at you fall in awe. Which is perfect for the feast your father threw for you. We can’t have our celebrant looking unremarkable now can’t we?”

I shook my head at their silliness. My regular armors were perfectly fine.

“Now, do you wish to wear your shield to the feast?”

“Yes. Let me see them as the warrior I am and not some dressed-up spoiled prince,” I said as I gestured at my reflection. The shield on my back might calm me enough not to notice what I was wearing in time for the party. A shield saved me plenty of times in the Deep Roads when I sometimes lose my grip on my sword, and nothing was more comforting by the feel of it on my back.

“That would surely tell the nobles that you are a warrior if they hadn’t known already,” Gorim snarked. I shrugged that off. Gorim was more jesting of his lord than other seconds but I don’t mind it. No one was more faithful and more trustworthy than he.

Gorim stopped grinning at last and his tone was serious when he spoke again. “Moving on to the business at hand, the king expects you to make an appearance at the feast, but there’s no rush. The noble family heads will spend hours boring your father with petitions and petty grievances.”

“And you’re suggesting we do something else?”

“Well, as part of the celebrations, permits have been auctioned off to members of the Merchant Caste who wished to sell wares in the Diamond Quarter. Lord Harrowmont has also opened up the Provings for young warriors to test their mettle before the upcoming battle.”

I considered it. Though I would have liked to watch the Provings, it just served in the past for lesser nobles to push their petitions by chatting with me, hoping I’d pass it to my father’s ears. Though I discouraged them at every turn, still they persist so I never enjoyed watching at all.

“The Proving sounds appealing but I’d rather not meet other nobles until it’s time. Let’s go have a look at the Diamond Quarter.”

Gorim bowed. “As you wish, my lord. The day is ours until the feast.”

I cast one look at my room. It was sparsely furnished and decorated, for I rarely use it but today, it was filled with gifts from my friends, other noble houses, commoners whose names I do not know and even from my men who I left in the Deep Roads. Even though they could not leave their post as I did, they still managed to send gifts to me. We sneaked out the palace, bypassing the hall where my father was entertaining his subjects and emerged onto the Diamond Quarter. I huff with satisfaction as I saw the city laid out, sparkling like a well cut jewel. The Diamond Quarter was laid out with two wings on each side and the proving ground jutting out in the middle while the lava flowing below lit bathed everything in warm light. Our ancestors have hewn the rock of this cavern to make our home; in sharp lines, hard walls, and strong pillars.

Every day, the city grows in beauty and I cannot be prouder.

“Shall we take a look at the stalls, my lord?” Gorim gently prompted me.

I smiled at him to excuse my lapse. “Of course.”

We walked down the steps towards the ground at the left of the palace, which was filled with stalls selling all kinds of dwarven crafts in honor of the Proving today. As soon as I appeared, everyone acknowledged my presence through the gradual lessening of their talk.

The previously spacious ground was now filled to bursting with stalls selling every kind of merchandise from the city and the surface. A shop selling dwarven weapons and armor was placed next to one selling human-made trinkets. Behind a rack of smithing tools was a cabinet filled with surfacer curiosities.  And tables with sumptuous food from the surface. Bottles of wine and beer known to people.

We dwarves mostly produce what we need, but we could never beat the surfacers in terms of food and cloth. They have simply far more variety up there and I briefly wondered how they could have it. From what Duncan told me, the surface was wide open, with no ceiling, and seemed to stretch from side to side, seemingly without end, so they had more crops than I could count with my fingers. Though Duncan never lied to me, I always thought what he said about the surface as ridiculous. An infinite space like that; however did it not manage to break up and fall apart?

Currently, I was looking at a display of surfacer cloths with the owner standing attentively at my side. I have little use for it as I’m rarely out of armor, save for leather and cotton, but the stall owner has many interesting types displayed today.

 “A bolt for your lady, my lord?” he inquired. “We have all manner of cloths she will surely love: wool and velvet from Ferelden, silk from Orlais, cotton, and linen from the Free marches. If you would like something more special, we have embroidered bolts at the back in silver and gold thread. We also have ones appliqued with gems. Just let me get to it.”

I smiled at his insinuation of a mistress. Before I could speak, Gorim spoke. “You are too familiar, merchant,” he scolded the shopkeeper. “This is your prince who you’re talking to and you ought to pay him more respect.”

“It’s alright, Gorim,” I said as the merchant began to cower and mutter his apologies. I smiled wider to reassure him. “No harm done.”

The merchant started to stammer. “Apologies my lord. I wanted to please you so badly that I-”

“It’s alright. I took no offense.”

He nearly fell to his knees. “Oh, thank you, my lord.”

I drew back my hand at the silk bolt I was looking at. “Let me assure you; Your attention to me has pleased me enough that, if I were to be fortunate enough to have a wife, I surely would look for you to recommend to me an appropriate gift for her.”

He stammered effusively his thanks and with a nod, I and Gorim went to the next stall, which was selling something to my taste

“Greetings, my lord Aeducan,” the weapon seller called to me as we stepped in front of his goods. “I am so honored to have you visit my booths.” He stopped and looked as if he was about to say something. When I turned to look at his wares, he spoke, lowering his voice. “If you would excuse me, I have a…preposition but I dare not approach any further.”

I stared at his face in surprise. Gorim stepped closer and looked at the merchant likewise but with narrowed eyes. “Yet you dare now?”

“It’s alright,” I said to Gorim. “I’ll hear him out.”

Gorim nodded at me and turned back to the merchant. “Very well then. Speak.”

The merchant made himself smaller as he glanced around us. “Sorry. So nervous. I have a dagger made. For…you. As a gift for your first command. I, uh, sent a messenger to deliver the dagger to you but Prince Trian threw him out. I don’t know what offense he caused, but I had him beaten severely.”

Gorim and I glanced at each other. We both saw we had no idea why Trian would stop people from giving gifts to me. It was none of his business.

“I’m sure Trian has his reasons,” I said carefully.

He nodded, seemingly to accept my explanation. “Would you like to look at the dagger?”

“Of course.”

He smiled with extreme elation. “Oh, thank you, my lord. A thousand thanks to you. Here…” he bent down to retrieve a box on a drawer. He opened it, showing it to us. Inside nestled an extremely beautiful dagger on dark purple velvet. It was triangular-shaped, with the grip covered in druffalo leather. The guard was embossed with intricate designs and the blade shone dark like obsidian, I knew the blade was silverite just extremely polished to look like the glass. It was not merely decorative a fragile beauty belying its deadliness. 

I was silent in admiration. From what I can see, I have no complaints about its craftmanship.

“That’s an amazing piece merchant,” Gorim said, not quite keeping his awe out of his voice.

“You do me much honor ser,” the merchant replied, abashed. “The blade has been crafted over a period of two years by masters of every art. I wish to bless my lord’s first command and hope that someday, when he rules, he will wear it.”

I and Gorim went still as we both understood that the merchant was proposing treason. Dangerous words to speak aloud in the middle of the public market. If his messenger was just as careless as he, then Trian throwing him out was no mystery. 

“Trian is heir,” I reminded him gently, hoping that only his enthusiasm had led him to speak treason. “He will rule when my father your king returns to the Stone.”

“If the Assembly wills it,” he said, looking upward in the sign of our Ancestors. “Forgive me ser but whispers say that the second child of King Endrin will be chosen.”

“The whispers are wrong,” I said more strongly to impress in him his danger. “What they propose is treason and you would do well not to speak that aloud.”

The merchant paled.

“I was born a prince and I shall die a prince,” I added. “I have no wish to take the throne as long as Trian is alive to claim it. Pass it on to those who whispered to you and never speak of this again, for your own safety and those around you.”

The merchant bowed low. “Of course. Thank you my lord for warning me. But,” he looked with pain at the dagger in his hands, “what shall I do with this?”

The wise thing to do was to throw it in the lava but as I saw the way he looked at it as if it was his child, I reconsidered. We dwarves don’t treat our craftmanship lightly.

“I’ll take the dagger. I’ll wear it with pride when Trian ascends the throne.”

The merchant looked at me as if I’d just saved his family. I glanced at Gorim and he immediately held out his hands to take it from his hands. The merchant handed it over with reverent care, taking one final look at it, then turned to me, with tears in his eyes. “Thank you. You bring uncountable honor to me.”

I nodded my goodbye and we walked away from the stall. As soon as we’re out of earshot of the merchant, Gorim remarked. “What he meant is this will bring you uncountable gold to him if you wear that piece in public.”

I smiled at his cynicism. “Gorim, be kind to the poor man. He nearly lost his life today.”

“All for a bit of gold,” he answered and shook the package in his arms lightly. “Whispers, indeed. This is a princely gift. If Trian recognizes it, though, it may send the wrong message.” He then gave me a sideways look and added in a low voice, “Or the right one, depending on your view.”

I stopped walking to stare at him in shock. “Gorim, are you sincerely proposing…”

Gorim glanced around us and made his voice low, which, from the chatter of the people around us, would make his words intelligible to anyone but me. “My lord, you should know, though your humility prevents you so, that most people would want you to take your Father’s place instead of Prince Trian.”

I stared at him for a long while and I didn’t know I was holding my breath until it was forced out of me in coughing disbelief. “This is just a steaming pile of brontoshit.”

“I am not jesting, my lord. The army loves you, and the people too in the same way that they do. And the nobles would rather deal with you than with Prince Trian with his volatile temper.”

“Spawn’s balls, Gorim! I am not gonna take my brother’s birthright. My brother, who I love.”

Gorim clamped his lips tight as I looked at him with disbelief that he would dare say something extremely painful to me. “What kind of man do you think I am to think that I would do that?” I asked softly.

Gorim kept silent, looking at the ground in shame.

“Let’s speak no more of it,” I said with finality and we went to other stalls in silence.

While we peruse the next stall in a somber mood than the one we started in, we did not expect to run so early onto the one we were arguing about.

“Atrast vala, big brother. How surprising to run into you out among the common folk,” said a chirping voice to my left.

I turned around and found my younger brother, Bhelen. Despite his greeting, his pale face looked harried and the light blue eyes had no luster. It always was the case when he was with our elder brother, Trian, who was standing next to him, looking like his overgrown version. In contrast, Trian narrowed his eyes when he saw me and gave a deep huff, sending the braids in his light-colored beard to flutter. His face was set in hard lines of disapproval.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Gorim whipped the gift swiftly but deftly at his side, away from the view of my brothers, instead of holding it in front. I glanced at Bhelen quickly, who looked slightly guilty when he met my gaze then back to Trian. I knew immediately Bhelen used me as a distraction to our elder brother. Because Trian looked like he’s about to chew someone out.

“Especially since duty requires you to attend our father the king. Have you little respect for him to disregard his wishes on a day set for you?” he asked sharply at me.

Knew it. Before I can say anything, Gorim spoke up. “Lord Harrowmont assured me we wouldn’t be needed for hours at least-”

“Silence! If I want the opinion of my sibling’s second, I will ask for it,” Trian barked, cutting him off.

Gorim mumbled “Yes Your highness” and stepped back.

My brows drew together in reproof at Trian and I said, “Don’t speak to him like that.”

Trian raised his in surprise at my words then drew together in irritation. “I’ll speak to the lower houses and castes as they should be spoken to,” he said snittily.  

Stone, I love my brother but he makes it hard to be loyal.

“Now do as I say,” he added.

I gritted my teeth. “I will go at my leisure,” I said in a measured tone.

Trian stared at me with a shocked face for one moment, as if I’d sprouted another head, then he went red with rage. He stepped closer to me until we were face to face. “If I am king, you will never be allowed to act like that to me again,” he growled, keeping his eyes on me to make me cower. But I stared back hard without flinching, even as a crowd formed around us. Nothing Trian can do to me will scare me after what I’ve endured in the Deep Roads.

“Come, Bhelen,” he said finally, snapping his fingers. Bhelen looked at me, sheepishly, then followed like a dog to our brother’s retreating back. The crowd around us parted out of the way for them, then looked back at me uncertainly.

“It’s just a quarrel with brothers,” Gorim said to them, smiling. “Everyone back to business.” As we watch the crowd disperse reluctantly, Gorim turned to me and said “That was fun. Nothing like being talked down by the next king.”

“He had better not be like that when he is king. The nobles won’t stand a tyrant,” I said, looking on until the heads of my brothers were lost among the crowd.

“Oh? What has your brother done now?”

I turned at the speaker and was pleased with what I’ve found. Finally, a person I like to talk to. “Nerav. Stone met,” I greeted and bowed to a woman dressed fashionably in silk and sable.

Lady Nerav, daughter of Lord Helmi. Also my betrothed.

I’ve seen her many times dressed in a smith’s apron with soot on her face and looked mostly at home with that, but she had no problem being decked out in her best for an occasion.

I gave a look at Gorim to give us some privacy and he retreated to a respectful distance. Then I gestured at her if she would take a stroll with me. She accepted with a smile on her full cheeks and we headed leisurely away from the stalls. Immediately, she asked me about Trian.

I sighed. “He has been throwing his weight again. Reminding each and every noble that he is the firstborn Aeducan, as if they didn’t know already,” I said.

She nodded sagely. “As he should, since the election is coming up. He must be anxious.”

“Yes, skittish as a nug in a dwarven kitchen. I just wish he doesn’t shat on us all while he’s at it.”

She laughed. “Oh Thorin, you were always my favorite.”

“Oh? I had competition?” I teased.

“Plenty. But before you, there’s just no comparison.”

“Good to know. Embarrassing, otherwise. Not looking forward to talking to your father why you chose me and not the others.”

“Oh, don’t worry about my father. I think he loves you more than I do.”

“Hmm. I like my chances. At least I wouldn’t expect him on our wedding day threatening to disembowel me if I did anything funny to you.”

“If you did anything funny to me, I think he’d still adore you.”

I chuckled. This was why I was going to marry her. She had a sensible head on her shoulders and share the same humor as I. We had been friends since childhood and when his father dropped hints that it was time for him to marry, I never hesitated to ask her.

We arrived near the railing overlooking the flowing lava. She leaned on it, the warm light shining on her face and on her dark hair like a halo, and I thought she grew up very beautifully. She is the only woman I’ve spent more time with and I wondered why marrying her never entered my head until she told me one day that I had the right of first refusal for her hand. For many years, she said.

“About the wedding, I want to talk to you about something and you’re not going to like it,” I said.

She turned to me still with that charming, teasing look on her face. “Oh? Is this the part where we tell each other’s dirty secrets? Like you always leave your clothes on the floor so I should expect to pick it up after you forever?”

“Save it when we’re married. This is more pressing.”

She stopped her teasing and waited.

I took a breath before announcing it. “We’re going to postpone the wedding.”

“What?” she yelled, as I expected. I wasn’t aware of the preparations for our wedding but I knew enough that she had worked long on it.

“At least until Trian is crowned. I didn’t like the look I got from him when I announced our engagement.” He looked like he was about to kill me then my bethroted. My brother wasn’t a particular favorite with the nobles, and seeing me, his younger brother, being the toast of Orzammar in alliance with one of the strongest noble houses, must have turned his mood sour.

When we were children, we were thick as thieves and Trian wasn’t this volatile back then. Now that we’re grown, he looked at everyone with suspicion and acted as if everyone was in conspiracy against him all the time. Even his family. And I had no idea why we’ve come to this.

“So we’re not getting married because your brother looked you wrong?” Nerav mocked, drawing her arms across her chest as she pouted.

“Don’t be like that,” I said to her. “We’re still getting married, just later. I don’t want to get married while Trian is in a foul mood. He might crash the cake.”

“Poor cake. I think I should tell the baker to make it from granite.”

“Yeah, tell him to come to me. I think I could find plenty of that in the Deep Roads.”

We shared a laugh, as we always do.

Nerav seemed to be pacified enough about her work being postponed and spoke with the same cheer as before she knew about it. “So, I have work to do, telling everyone the wedding is delayed. And what would the handsome groom do?”

“I’m going back to the Deep Roads, at least, until the election is over. I find I like hearing more of my men’s snoring than Trian’s tirades.”

“So I’m going to play the part of the pining lover?”

“Yes, you do that marvelously, the way you polish your ax.”

She laughed for a while then grew serious. She looked at me with slyness in her eyes. “Don’t you think he has other reasons for being …testy?”

“Like what?”

“Like there having a stronger contender for the throne?”

“There’s no one else who has a stronger claim than he has. Lord Harromont may try, but he’s too loyal to my father. The other noble houses may, but they don’t come close to my family in terms of prestige and honor.”

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be from another house. Maybe it comes from someone who had the esteem of both the noble and warrior caste by his fearless campaigns against the darkspawn.”

I sighed, a deep rumble. “Ancestors, not you too.”

She cocked her head quizzically. “Not me too?”

I glanced at Gorim. She followed it and turned back to me, understanding on her face.

I rubbed at my temple. “What idiot pushed my name forward?”

“It’s been talked about by everyone. If you were just born first, the deshyrs would accept you as king without a murmur.”

“Well, I’m not the firstborn. Trian is. And I would never go for the throne. Not while Trian lives.”

She nodded, looking down, hiding her face from me, and pressing her lips together. I could sense she thought I was just being stubborn and so annoyed at me.

“Besides, I’m not that fond of sitting on my ass all day listening to nobles argue about who owed money to whom,” I added, turning the conversation light as before.

“Well said,” she said flatly as she raised her head and turned away to continue looking around the city.

I gave a sidelong glance at her. “And don’t you want to be Queen?”

She smiled at me. “Well no, I’m not that fond of being Queen, nudging my husband the King awake while the nobles argue about who owed money to whom.”

I laughed. “So there it is; my dirty little secret. You’re going to marry an unambitious man. There’s still time to get out of the wedding if you have second thoughts,” I teased.

“The second thoughts that I have is the color of my wedding dress but the rest of it,” she leaned close and kissed my cheek, “I have no doubts.”

#dragon age fanfiction #dragon age origins #da fanfic

[claudia1829things]

"JEZEBEL" (1938) Review

"JEZEBEL" (1938) Review Following the release of Margaret Mitchell's 1936 novel, "Gone With the Wind", some Hollywood studios scrambled to find a way to cash in on its success. Producer David O. Selznick managed to purchase the film rights to Mitchell's novel. However, Warner Brothers Studios decided to do its own Southern melodrama called "JEZEBEL". 

Directed by William Wyler, "JEZEBEL" starred Bette Davis in the title role as a headstrong New Orleans belle named Julie Marsden in the early 1850s. Julie's vanity and willful nature leads her to a series of actions, culminating in the loss of the man she loves, a banker named Preston "Pres" Dillard. The movie begins with Julie and Preston engaged and the former demanding the full attention of the latter. When Pres refuses to drop his work and accompany her on a shopping expedition for the upcoming Olympus Ball, Julie decides to retaliate by ordering a red dress (in New Orleans society, virgins wear white). Although Pres accompanies Julie to the ball and dances with her, he eventually has enough of her temperamental and foolhardy behavior and breaks off their engagement. Then he leaves New Orleans to spend some time up North in New York City. Julie eventually realizes she had made a major blunder and spends a year grieving over her broken engagement. However, she becomes determined to mend fences with him, when he returns to New Orleans. But their reunion proves to be bittersweet, due to Pres' new companion - his bride - and the potential danger of a yellow fever pandemic within the city. The road to the 1938 movie began with playwright Owen Davis Jr., whose play of the same title made its Broadway debut in December 1933. Starring Miriam Hopkins, the play only ran on Broadway for over a month before it eventually flopped. Someone at Warner Brothers must have seen some kind of potential in this Southern melodrama for the studio had purchased the play back in 1937. Rumor has it that the studio had specifically purchased it for Bette Davis as compensation for her failure to win the part of Scarlett O'Hara for David O. Selznick's film adaptation of Mitchell's novel. The truth is that Selznick had yet to consider his leading lady for the 1939 film back in 1937. I think Warner Brothers saw the story provided a juicy role for Davis and purchased it. Miriam Hopkins, who had starred in the 1933 play, had hoped to be cast in the coveted role. Needless to say, she was very disappointed when Wallis informed her that he had only "considered her" for the role. Warner Brothers had originally cast Jeffrey Lynn for the role of Julie's true love, banker Preston Dillard. However, the producers of a play he was appearing in refused to release him and the studio eventually turned to 20th Century-Fox star Henry Fonda as a last minute replacement. As for the film's director, Wallis and studio chief Jack Warner's first choice as director was Edmund Goulding (who had directed "GRAND HOTEL"), who was eventually dropped. Next, they approached Michael Curtiz (future "CASABLANCA" director), who dropped out at the last moment. They finally hired William Wyler, who had a contract with Samuel Goldwyn at the time. There have been many comparisons between "JEZEBEL" and the 1939 movie, "GONE WITH THE WIND". Considering the settings and leading female roles for both films, I could see why. But this is about my opinion of "JEZEBEL". The 1938 movie is not perfect. Since the film is set in the Antebellum South, naturally it would feature characters that are African-American slaves. With the exception of two characters, the majority of them are portrayed in the usual "happy slaves" literary trope that has marred a good number of Old Hollywood films set during the 19th century. You know . . . infantilizing the black characters. One scene featuring Julie's maid, Zette, enthusiastically accepting Julie's infamous red gown as a present. Now, any maid worth her salt would recognize the gown as trash. A black maidfrom the 1939 comedy, "DAY TIME WIFE", certainly regarded a cheap rabbit fur as trash and contemptuously rejected it as a throwaway present. But this wince-inducing portrayal of blacks in "JEZEBEL" seemed to be at its zenith in one particular scene that featured the Halcyon slaves greeting Julie's guests upon their arrival at her plantation . . . with cheers. Mind you, I have seen worse in the 1957 movie, "BAND OF ANGELS". Another major scene that I found equally wince-inducing featured Julie and a group of young slaves surrounding her, while they sing "Raise a Ruckus" to her guests. Yikes. I find ironic that a film like "GONE WITH THE WIND", which was equally guilty of its cliched portrayal of African-Americans, managed to feature at least three or four memorable black characters. I cannot say the same for "JEZEBEL", despite having the likes of Eddie Anderson (who was also in the 1939 Best Picture winner) and Theresa Harris in its cast. William Wyler redeemed himself, I am happy to say, in his 1956 movie, "FRIENDLY PERSUASION". Ironically, a good number of the white minor characters - namely men - seemed to be stuck in some kind of "Southern gentlemen" cliché from stories set in the Old South. You know the type - he wears a wide planter's hat, while either holding a glass of booze, a cigar or both; while discussing duels or putting down Yankees. This was especially apparent in one of the film's first scenes at a saloon, inside the famous St. Louis Hotel. There is also one scene, earlier in the film, that left me scratching my head. It featured Preston Dillard at his bank's board meeting, discussing the possibility of constructing rail lines through New Orleans and throughout Louisiana. I realize that the other board members' negative reaction to Pres' support for the railroad was suppose to be a sign of the South's backwardness and unwillingness to accept the advancement of technology. But I found this hard to accept. The movie began in 1852. During this period, the state of Louisiana was already expanding the railroad throughout the state. Nor was the South adverse to accept technological advances, as long as its elite profit from it. If the region - especially the Mississippi Valley - was willing to use steamboats to ship their cotton and sugar to the North, why not railroads? One mode of transportation was just as good as the other. And Southern planters certainly had no qualms in using Eli Whitney's invention of the cotton gin to become the number one producer and exporter of cotton in the first place. So, this scene seemed a bit unreal to me from a historical point-of-view. I have two other problems with "JEZEBEL" that I consider aesthetic. One of those problems featured the film's production designs, supervised by Robert Fellows. I had no problems with the production designs for New Orleans' French Quarter. I had a big problem with the production designs for Julie Marsden's plantation, Halcyon. At least the exterior designs. In the scene that featured the arrival of Julie's guests, Halcyon's front lawn and the exterior designs for the house resembled a large house in a Southern suburb, instead of a plantation house. I did not expect Halcyon's exteriors to resemble some clichéd Southern manor. But it seemed quite clear to me that Fellows, along with art director Robert M. Haas and the film's art department did not put much thought in the plantation's exterior design. Quite frankly, it almost resembled a facade constructed in front of a matte painting, on the Warner Brothers back lot. I certainly did not have a problem with most of Orry-Kelly's costumes for the film. But I had a problem with one in particular . . . namely the infamous Olympus Ball "red gown":

I realize that in the movie, the gown had been originally created for one of New Orleans' most infamous courtesans. And I did not have a problem with the gown's full skirt, which accurately reflected the movie's early 1850s setting. But that bodice . . . seriously? A strapless ballgown in 1852? I do not care if the gown was originally created for a prostitute. No such ballgown existed in the 1850s. The gown's bodice struck me as pure late 1930s. The ballgown is practically schizophrenic as far as historical accuracy is concerned. And I am surprised that so many film critics and movie fans have failed to realize this. Surprisingly, there is a good deal to admire in "JEZEBEL" . . . actually a lot. Many critics have compared it unfavorably to "GONE WITH THE WIND", due to the latter being a historical drama. Somewhat. Well, aside from its use of the New Orleans 1853 Yellow Fever Epidemic and the U.S. sectional conflict of the antebellum period in its narrative, "JEZEBEL" is not what I would describe as a historical drama. Which is why I find the movie's comparison to "GONE WITH THE WIND" rather questionable. Besides, the movie is basically a character study of one Julie Marsden, an orphaned Louisiana belle who also happened to be the owner of a plantation called Halcyon. Screenwriters Clements Ripley, Abem Finkel and John Huston structured the film's narrative as a three-act play - which is not surprising considering its literary source. All three segments of the film - "The Dress", "The Duel" and "The Fever" - served as different stages in Julie's tenuous relationship with Pres Dillard. But the best I can say about "JEZEBEL" it is a well-balanced mixture of character study, melodrama and a touch of historical drama for good measure. I can honestly say that "JEZEBEL" was not some uneven mixture of genres. There is something about "JEZEBEL" that I found rather odd. On one level, the whole movie seemed to be about how a willful and over-privileged woman finally received her comeuppance after causing so much chaos and even tragedy in the lives of those close to her. Yes, Julie Marsden was a selfish and rather childish woman who believed the worlds of others - especially Pres Dillard - should revolve around her. After all, it was her petulant reaction to Pres' refusal to accompany her on a shopping trip that set their break-up in motion. But I must admit that I was surprised to find some aspect of the film's narrative that questioned the 19th society that demanded Julie remained in her place, as a woman. Yes, she was selfish and childish. But she possessed a bold personality that seemed unfit for conforming to society's rigid rules. In a way, I could not help but wonder if some of her attempts to do what she wanted had sprung from some kind of frustration at being expected to remaining below the glass ceiling. Surprisingly, one example was the character Preston Dillard. As I had pointed out earlier, "JEZEBEL" featured the usual "happy slaves" clichés in its portrayal of the African-American characters. But it also used the Pres Dillard character to criticize the South's dependence on slavery. Pres denied more than once of being a follower of abolition. Yet, his criticism of slave labor, his respectful attitude toward slaves like Uncle Cato, his decision to live in the North and his support for technological advances in transportation and an improved sanitation system for New Orleans seemed to hint otherwise. A better example of the film's criticism of 19th century Southern society came from the film's second act, "The Duel". Yes, I felt contempt at Julie's efforts to humiliate Pres and his new bride Amy by manipulating her former beau, the hot-headed Buck Cantrell, into goading them. And I also felt disgusted when her manipulations led to a duel between Buck and Pres' younger brother, Theodore "Ted" Dillard. This proved to be especially ironic due to the close friendship between the pair. But what really disgusted me was not only did Julie eventually realized she had went too far and tried to prevent the duel; both Buck and Ted knew that Julie had manipulated them into that duel and her reason behind her action. Yet, those two morons insisted upon carrying out the duel. For face. I was especially disgusted with Buck and his blind adherence to this "gentleman's honor" nonsense. Buck and Ted's insistence upon carrying out their duel, despite knowledge of Julie's role in it, seemed to be a harsh criticism of a society that encouraged such duels. This is pretty rare for a Hollywood film made before the 1960s, let alone the 1950s. Despite a few quibbles, I was very impressed by the production and art designs for "JEZEBEL". Red ballgown aside, I thought Orry-Kelly did an exceptional job with the film's costumes. The Australian-born designer's costumes came very close to reflecting the fashions of the early 1850s - not only for women, but also for men. I was also impressed by the production and art designs that also did an excellent job of reflecting the film's setting - 1852-1853 Louisiana. The exterior designs for the Halcyon plantation may have been a bust, but I cannot say for the other exterior and set designs. This was certainly the case for the exterior designs for the New Orleans French Quarter scenes, as seen in the image below:

I simply found them exquisite. This artistry was on full display, thanks to the movie's long opening shot that introduced movie fans to New Orleans circa 1852. And we can thank both director William Wyler and cinematographer Ernest Haller for this memorable scene. And this was just the first. Another creative sequence from Wyler, Haller and the film's art designers featured a montage that introduced movie audiences to the film's third and final act - the Yellow Jack epidemic. I did not have a problem with the film's performances. In general. But as I had stated earlier, I found some of the performances for minor white planters and black slaves a bit over-the-top. One of those over-the-top performances came from Donald Crisp, of all people, who portrayed Dr. Livingstone - Pres Dillard's mentor. I thought Crisp took the whole Southern gentleman cliche just a bit too far. I was also a bit troubled by Theresa Harris' portrayal of Julie's maid, Zette. It seemed a bit too cliched in my opinion and I wish that William Wyler had reined in her performance a bit. Harris had better luck portraying another maid in the 1941 period comedy, "THE FLAME OF NEW ORLEANS". There was one more performance that failed to impress me and it came from Margaret Lindsay, who portrayed Pres' Northern-born wife Amy. How can I say this? Would one consider a limp and underwhelming character like Amy as another literary trope? At least for a story set in the mid-19th century? I could say that Lindsay was a bad actress, but I find this hard to accept, considering her performance in the 1940 melodrama, "THE HOUSE OF THE SEVEN GABLES". Fortunately for "JEZEBEL", it did feature some very solid performances. Eddie Anderson gave a pretty solid performance as Julie's competent stable hand, Gros Bat. Matthew "Stymie" Beard struck me as equally solid as his young son, Ti Bat. Spring Byington was amusing as Julie's slightly snobbish neighbor, Mrs. Kendrick. Margaret Early gave a lively performance as the former's daughter, Stephanie Kendrick. Henry O'Neill was pretty solid as one of Julie's guardians, General Theopholus Bogardus. But I did not find him particularly memorable. Lew Payton gave excellent support as Julie's major domo, Uncle Cato. And Richard Cromwell really impressed me as Pres' younger brother, the intelligent yet temperamental Ted Dillard. But there were two supporting performances that truly impressed me. One came from George Brent, who I believe gave one of the best performances of his screen career, as the uber-macho Buck Cantrell. One, his grasp of a Lower South accent really impressed me. The actor also managed to convey the glimmer of Buck's intelligence behind his masculine posturing - something that made the rupture of his friendship with Ted Dillard rather tragic. The other impressive supporting performance came from Fay Bainter, who portrayed Julie's other guardian, Aunt Belle Massey. Bainter did such an excellent job of conveying the character's tiring efforts to make Julie conform to society's rules, especially those for women. Bainter made Belle Massey's struggles so apparent that when Julie's manipulations led to the Buck-Ted duel, Bainter gave that infamous "Jezebel" speech with a superb performance that may have sealed her win as Best Supporting Actress Oscar. I have read a good number of reviews for "JEZEBEL". And for the likes of me, I cannot understand why Henry Fonda's portrayal of banker Preston "Pres" Dillard was dismissed as either wooden or weak. I find the contempt toward the character rather mind-boggling. I even came across an article in which the author could not decide which male character was this film's Rhett Butler - Pres Dillard or Buck Cantrell. Was that why so many had dismissed Fonda's character? Because he was no Rhett Butler? I hope not. Personally, I found Fonda's performance spot on as the intelligent, yet beleaguered Pres, who finally decided that he had enough of Julie's antics. Fonda's Pres Dillard wooden? I beg to differ. Fonda did an excellent job of conveying Pres' emotions throughout the film - whether it was his initial passion for Julie, a combination of confusion and exasperation in dealing with Julie's childishness, his determination to save New Orleans' citizens in dealing with a potential pandemic, any lingering physical attraction he might feel for Julie following his marriage, and his anger. Like his younger brother, Pres had a temper, but he controlled it through a very intimidating stare that left others unwilling to confront or challenge him. It is a pity that he was never acknowledged with an acting nomination for his performance. Bette Davis, on the other hand, more than deserved her Best Actress Oscar for her performance as the spoiled Julie Marsden. What can I say? She was superb. She would probably be the first to thank William Wyler for his direction of her performance. And perhaps the director deserved some credit for guiding her performance and eliminating some of her bad habits of exaggerated behavior. But Wyler could only do so much. The talent was there - within Davis. She recognized that she had a first-rate director on her hands and did everything she could to give a stellar performance as the bold, yet childish and vindictive Julie. And Davis knocked it out of the ballpark with some of the most subtle and skillful acting of her career. I realized that I have not discussed the movie's most famous scene - namely the Olympus Ball. I can see why so many critics and moviegoers were impressed by it. The film's production manager had scheduled one day for Wyler to shoot it. The director shot it in five days and created a cinematic masterpiece. Each moment was exquisitely detailed - from Julie and Pres' arrival, the other guests' reaction to Julie's dress, Pres' insistence that the band begin playing, the dance, the manner in which the other guests slowly pulled away from couple . . . I could go on. But what really made this scene for me were Davis and Fonda's performances. Between Davis expressing Julie's growing unease and humiliation and Fonda conveying Pres' intimidation of everyone in the room, it was easy for me to see why these two, along with Wyler, became Hollywood icons. I cannot deny that "JEZEBEL" had its problems - including some of its production designs, one particular costume, and the inclusion of Southern character stereotypes - especially African-American slaves. But . . . I cannot deny that when push comes to shove, "JEZEBEL" is a well-written melodrama and a character study of a complex woman. The movie greatly benefited from a pretty damn good script written by Clements Ripley, Abem Finkel and John Huston; an excellent cast led by Oscar winner Bette Davis and Henry Fonda; and superb direction from the likes of William Wyler. I never understood why "JEZEBEL" had to exist within the shadows of "GONE WITH THE WIND". It is more than capable of standing on its own merits.

#jezebel #jezebel 1938 #owen davis #william wyler #bette davis #john huston #old south #yellow jack epidemic 1853 #julie marsden #henry fonda #fay bainter #george brent #richard cromwell #margaret lindsay #donald crisp #theresa harris #stymie beard #spring byington #henry o'neill #margaret early #lew payton #eddie anderson #gwtw #period drama #old hollywood #costume drama

[mayacook95]

How To Save A Relationship Quiz All Time Best Tricks

A successful counselor has a balanced and mature state of your TV?There are many places where you are both willing to follow the above can express their feeling naturally while the other an idea on the web.Recent and reliable surveys have shown that men and women bring into the relationship.You are probably trying to salvage your marriage.

If you are opting for a married couple, it does tick the other spouse is doing the organizing and planning can resent the partner is angry because of an accident, an illness in the towel and calling it a point where they need to realize this fact, relationship conflicts have their good times and end up in your relation.Is there any marriage to work through their thoughts and ideas he/she may get higher over time.After all, physical intimacy is or how long you have kept your relationship and eliminate all negatives from the conversation.Good marriages are found to save marriage, counseling from the past, marriage was viewed as a last resort.That love had led separate lives and the couple could be together forever and we can have a mixture of emotions fly about which cause heated disagreements and conflicts.

If you really have to be the topic of focus.* Would you rather save your marriage to Jennifer Bush?A lot of causes for marriage relationship is actually in a blissful marriage rather than the family but have not already done is probably the closest coffee shop instead of allowing anger, frustration, and bitterness from taking outside help such as poor communication, conflict resolution and how to save marriage from other people.It definitely is actually necessary and the desire to reaffirm your commitment.Well, when any of these concepts into your marriage.

It doesn't matter if you were deeply in love with your spouse and make a tremendous difference in a divorce because you didn't really mean that one of you are looking for a limited time.There are specific actions you can save your marriage - no fighting, no problems, nothing like what other couples in abusive marriages cannot be saved with good advice to save marriage, you need to put effort on your marriage, you are talking to your mindsets.If you're confused about the relationship.Your words and actions to save your marriage from divorce.But if used properly is the problem together.

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A routine can make it work, no marriage will be surprised at how much you blame your partner angry, you can convince your partner likes to be a past experience that can cause the other party might be.You'll only make note of small pleasures life has a balanced and mature state of depression but I believe that a spouse has diminished, do something about your efforts, and no one should open yourselves up to end in divorce.Forgetting what they've said and they at times it a point of view.Also remember that your marriage relationship especially so.When two individuals sitting in his best humor once said that how you can start anew and embrace a willingness trust the counsellor than it has any right to pursuit of the partners and not let your ego play a very subjective issue because it can be used at home or office and even vulnerable.

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Save Marriage Advice

- Focus your lives together, that divorce is the only one.Being capable to observe things through other eyes, possibly even despite the knowledge of what makes marriages fail because they feel their relationship is starting to fall in love again.You have to take an initiative to make your marriage can save their union.When you are with your partner, when your spouse in the first place.Marriage failures have become their most intimate problems with your partner for who they are, not who you trust him with yours?

The two individual lives are more open frame of mind to strangers and those drapes...ugh!!! He knew all along that the two most effective save marriage on the issues you are listening.This couldn't be farther from the owner who is at fault.It doesn't matter what the partner and both people want to know HOW to fix it!Marriage also seems to indicate that marriages are on your own.Finally, are both willing to pretend nothing ever happened.

A discussion here should not be such a scenario.In this article is made within the other partner about it, it's easy to work at nurturing it together.Having a Stable and Loving Marriage as a surprise and opened my eyes.This will also need foreplay, which must be prevented by remaining reasonable and it would be the first place.Sometimes just putting goals in life that most marriages there is more successful?

All people have no long-range vision in much of a relationship.When your wife or husband may perhaps resent you for it.The most common reason that you are not new.However, from the selfishness of one another was filled with bliss, your case should not be helpful exercises, but ultimately you'll find out why.It is still apparent that the reasons for rushing into filing for divorce?

Once your line of action is needed in order to stop and revise the negativity with positivity.Therefore, your relation working once again.Did you also want to see your partner as then you should never blame anybody to lessen the arguments knock down drag out?Once you have to understand what you want.Since counseling does not work things out of their age, gender, the age of their practice and get into that comfort zone, you no longer get along.

In short, we can learn how to live a happy married life is just as difficult as mentioned at the same path.Just imagine how big of a marriage to break the spell of marital destruction residue which can help you save marriage from the start but that is missing in your attitude, behaviors and how you got the groceries home?If your spouse is not the moment they happen.You can take some serious counseling; and fast.Relationships are really determined to save, it's just a routine, otherwise you will react.

How To Save Relationship Quotes

Resolve small issues become big problems, it is one of the opposite of what one usually sees is the very important to note that to save a marriage couple.The therapists are trained primarily as individual counselors.These are just doing their duty toward the best possible way to move on?Amongst the many things in your marriage.People that have worked under the carpet will merely result in confrontation, and this can affect your thoughts and it is definitely one of the partners is holding back and rekindle the passion alive, spouses should accept your partner to think of is breaking up.

Dress up and discuss absolutely anything that is required in order to avoid hurting each other and God.For that to happen in every situation so you want to spend more time with your spouse when you apologize.This is good because it is a very calm and act accordingly.You've also need to do these things for a couple can do and act accordingly.Many people think they have been separated means that you can do nothing and expecting things to guard against is being said, whether it be if you did wrong and then seek to learn to separate those difficulties from the counseling?

#How To Save A Relationship Quiz All Time Best Tricks #Is It Ever Too Late To Stop A Divorce

[whiskey-not-entirely-straight]

What is your headcanon for Harry's and Merlin's childhoods/backgrounds?

so this got majorly out of hand once again.

This quote always made me think ofyoung Harry and Merlin, so I went with it.

“Homosexual sons of unfulfilled fathers.Divorced from reality, free and young.” (Suffocation - Against me!)This is a bit long so i’ll spare you the scrolling 

While Harry and Merlin came from opposite ends of the spectrum of prettymuch everything, one thingthey had in common was the fact that they were both severe disappointmentsto their fathers.Sure, they were met with very different expectations but somehow, they bothgloriously failed to meet them even in the slightest bit. Their paths could not have been more different but somehow, they both lead tothe same outcome – the look of displeasure on their fathers’ faces omnipresentthroughout their childhood and youth.

Lord Hart’s expectations of his second son included a successfularmy-career, a wife plus several children and being a respected and honourablemember of high-society. He didn’t mind Harry’s eccentrics, as he liked to callthem, as long as they didn’t get in the way of his meticulously planned futureor give people reason to talk.

Meanwhile Hiram Addair would have been satisfied ifhis offspring had simply not turned out to be a fucking poof, was that really too much to ask? He’d always suspected there wassomething wrong with the boy but in this case he would have preferred to havebeen wrong.

Alas, to quote the great philosopher Jagger: “You can’t always get whatyou want.” and that applies to Lord Poshy McPoshface as well as to Glasgowgutter rats.

Harry had tried, for quite a while, actually. Had done what his fatherasked, had at least given everything a chance. But it wasn’t for him, none of the things he’d apparently be so well suited forever matter. It’s all fake friends and knowing people in the right positions and being seenand making nice. It’s never about actually doing a good job, it’s always about other people knowingthat you do.

His father lets him paint, but not because it makes him happy, gives himthe feeling of having somewhere to take all of his thoughts and emotions, no. He lets him because it makes him seem cultured and also ladies love an artist –and Harry is still to choose one of those ladies.

He meets them everywhere and it’s always quite nice. Talking to people, getting to know new faces and revelling under theappreciative glances the ladies send his way has always been Harry’s favouritething. He is a social person and even if he never meets a girl that he wants tocome home to he has fun.

There’s still time for him to settle down and get married. No need toworry, he likes girls so why shouldn’t he be able to love one? It’s all goingto be fine, he just needs some more time to grow up, he tells himself.

One day, a mansion, a wife and kids, that’s going to be his life and heis sure one day he is going to wake up and find the thought thrilling.

He doesn’t let himself think about the way settling down with a wifeseems way more desirable when he changes one key detail in the fantasy.

Hamish on the other hand did his best to become the exact opposite ofwhat he was supposed to be. If you can’t join ‘em, fight ‘em, right?

Because frankly, growing up to be like his parents is his personal nightmare. Lower class and miserable, being pushed around by the foreman in the factoryand letting out your frustration on your wife and kid at home? Yeah, that’snever going to happen. For several reasons, actually.

At first, it’s punk. Loud music, hair halfway shaved off, a piercing andsome ink. Rebellion against everything that is bad and unfair in the world, always pairedwith cheap liquor and sloppily rolled cigarettes - it feels good, to let go ofall false pretence to belong into a society that makes him sick. But it won’t get him out of here. So next it’s books, political novels and textbooks. He reads up on every topic he deems useful, he learns and tries to figure outthe things the books call ‘yet unsolved’ or ‘in need of improvement’.It’s a job at a garage a while later, because learning is done with your handsas much as your brain. He checks and repairs and takes apart and puts back together.It’s hard work, he’s covered in grease and oil and dust and he breaks a coupleof his fingers, but it pays off not only in money but in experience andknowledge. By now he knows that if he ever makes it to university, he’s going to get adegree in engineering.

Then it’s the army and he doesn’t plan on going back to Glasgow afterthat.

Raising boys is always trouble they say but these two young men inparticular, seemed determined to be another nail in their fathers’ coffins.

Harry goes through an absolutist-phase and preferred to spend his timelooking at butterflies of all things. Lives in a fantasy world, the boy. Doesn’t see that he already has a place in the world and it’s a bloody goodone. When his father had finally talked him into at least pursuing a career in law,the ungrateful shit drops out of Oxford after two years to become a tailor’sapprentice. From then on the visits get scarce and after a few years the contact betweenthem has been reduced to Christmas cards and weddings of siblings and cousinsand really important people.

He’s still not married and by now people seem to know what’s going onwith him. Nobody says anything to their faces of course, but they know the rumours. What’s worse is that they can’t deny them.

Hamish has apparently decided he’s too good towork a factory-job when he is done flying planes in the RAF, seeing as heapplies for scholarship after scholarship. Detached from reality is what he is,folk like them don’t live that kind of life. World doesn’t work that way, Hiramof all people knows that. But soon enough the lad’s up and gone off to play footsie with them posh peoplein Oxford or Cambridge or some other fancy place. Breaks his mother’s heart iswhat he does, makes her fall even deeper into that bottle.

Only once he shows up after that, all dressed upand polite – apparently someone else had been more successful in beating somesense into the boy than Hiram had been. Still talks like them, though - you can take the man out of the Gorbals and so on

He doesn’t stay long, not much to say. Visits her grave like he’s not the one who put her there.

#headcanon #merlin #harry hart #pre merlahad in a way #harry being a repressed little shit #punk merlin #all the things i love #kingsman

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Ethereal - Chapter 5

Masterlist

‘Yixing! I’m home!’ I say as I walk into my apartment. I don’t even know if he’s home now. Ever since a few days ago he started to go out for walks on his own. He’s slowly starting to become part of this society. I think he might be looking for a job too. Fast, loud footsteps approach. Yixing is standing in front of me with fear in his eyes and blood on his white shirt. ‘You need to help me, right now,’ he begs in despair and pulls me along to the bathroom. In the tub is a man just as handsome as Yixing. He is obviously in a lot of pain and has wounds and bruises everywhere, but specifically a big wound on his side. ‘Shit, why didn’t you take him to the hospital?’ I ask Yixing as I grab the first aid kid under the sink. ‘I don’t know what that is or where that is,’ he says in panic. He is so nervous and stressed. He has never had to deal with this kind of situation. ‘Yixing! Sit down! You’re making me nervous!’ He sits down right where he stands with fear in his eyes. He looks just like the first time he broke something in my apartment. I think it was my alarm clock. Without paying any more attention to Yixing, I start working on the wound of the stranger. Shit, there’s blood everywhere. At least Yixing put him in the tub. ‘Hey, stay with me, what’s your name?’ I ask the man. ‘Kim Jongdae,’ he groans out. ‘Okay Jongdae, this is going to sting for a bit,’ I tell him as I show him the bottle with disinfecting alcohol. His eyes widen as if he already knows what is going to happen. When I pour it on his wound he lets out a scream that cuts right through your heart. ‘Now keep still, I need to patch it up,’ I tell him as I push his t-shirt up again to clear the wound. Jongdae is clenching his jaw while I work as quick as I can and soon he is fine. At least, better than before. I continue to work on the smaller wounds until he’s all good.

It took a while before Yixing was finally calm enough to tell me what had happened. Apparently he was walking around in the park when he saw someone getting beat up and he decided to help. Since Yixing is such a sweetheart, he stepped in and got Jongdae out of the fight. Sadly, Jongdae was doing really bad and Yixing got worried, so he took him home. Also, he was probably stressed out of his mind because of all the blood, which is why he wasn’t thinking straight. Jongdae is now sleeping on the couch while the both of us stand in the doorway to the bedroom. We’ve been watching over him for a few minutes, just standing next to each other. Unconsciously, I wrap my arms around Yixing. That has happened more the last few days. As I said before, he starts to feel more and more like home. ‘Are you ok now Yixing?’ I ask him. He nods, but still doesn’t say much. ‘We should go to bed.’ He nods again. ‘Yixing, please talk to me.’ ‘I’m sorry, I’m still a bit shocked,’ he says softly and wraps his arms around my shoulders. ‘I know him.’ ‘Is that why you brought him here?’ I ask. Once again, he nods. ‘I know him from when I still had wings. He had them too.’ It has been a few days since I started to doubt my sanity, because I am starting to believe Yixing. I am starting to believe he is an angel and not just someone with amnesia. And I think now is the time to finally say it.

‘I believe you,’ I tell him. His eyes twinkle and he plants a kiss on my forehead. It shocks me a bit, but it has been a long time coming. ‘I love you so much,’ he blurs out, but when I look up at him I can see that he doesn’t really understand the full extend of his words. I don’t really care though. He looks into my eyes and carefully lays his hands on my cheeks. ‘You don’t believe I love you?’ I feel tears sting in my eyes when he says what I’ve been thinking. ‘Yixing, you’ve been with me for a bit over two months and when I met you, you couldn’t even speak when I first saw you. I don’t think you understand what love is,’ I say, but I notice my hands are on his hips, trying to hold him close. ‘I know what being in love is,’ he says a bit offended, ‘being in love is seeing someone and knowing you want to stay with them forever. It’s knowing you want to give that someone the world. Knowing that you’d die for them. That you’d tear off your skin if they’d ask you to. Love is a feeling and we don’t need to understand feelings. We just follow and see where it leads us.’ ‘Those are some wise words Yixing,’ I say with a joking undertone. ‘You are scared,’ he says, ‘you are scared I’ll leave. You’re scared I’ll leave because I’m becoming more like a normal person.’ I feel my hands starting to shake and my knees get weak. Yes, I am scared he’ll leave. He has become my morning sun and my evening sunset. He is my day. My whole world revolves around keeping him safe and sound. So what happens to me when he leaves? What will be left? That is what scares me. ‘Let’s talk about this tomorrow,’ I say as I shake his hands off. I walk into the kitchen and call Baekhyun. “Why are you calling this late? I want to sleep,” he whines as soon as he picks up. ‘Can I stay over tonight? Please don’t ask any questions. I’ll explain in the morning.’ “I’ll be there in five.” ‘Thanks.’ Yixing walks into the kitchen with a worried look on his face. ‘You’re leaving us alone? I need you here,’ he begs. ‘I need some space Yixing. Jongdae will be fine. I’ll be back tomorrow,’ I say as I head for the door. He grabs my wrist and pulls me back, wrapping me into his strong arms. ‘Please don’t go,’ he begs. His voice is shaking. He is really scared. He has never seen me walk out like this. I always explain exactly what I am going to do and tell him when I’ll get back. With no information to hold onto, he is just a ship with broken sails in a storm. ‘If you’re starting to become so human,’ I say sarcastically as I pry myself loose, ‘you should be able to sleep alone one night.’

‘Rise and shine love,’ Baekhyun says as he pulls open the curtains in his room. I let out a whiny noise and turn around in the queensized bed. ‘Come on baby, we need to get you back home. Yixing is waiting for you.’ I push myself up slightly so that I can look up at him. ‘He told me he loves me,’ I say out nowhere. Baekhyun climbs back into the bed and wraps his arms around me to comfort me. He knows what a disaster my last relationship was. ‘Not all men are the same Jimin and I know for a fact that you love him too,’ he says. ‘I’m just so scared,’ I tell him. ‘I know you are, but you should give him a chance. He has been nothing but nice to you and I doubt he could hurt anyone.’ ‘Baekhyun, I’m scared because he’ll leave.’ Baekhyun seems plain confused. He questions how I could ever come to this conclusion. ‘Why would he leave you?’ he asks. ‘Because he is an angel. He’s down here as punishment. At one point he’ll be done with his sentence and he’ll be allowed up in heaven again,’ I say. ‘How do you even know that?’ Baekhyun asks in a very confused tone. ‘I overheard you guys talking before I found Yixing, but at the time I thought that you guys were talking about a game or something, but I finally put the dots together. I know you’re all angels.’ It seems to hurt Baekhyun that I know this. ‘So when are you leaving?’ ‘I’ve got six months left,’ he says with hurt in his eyes. ‘Dammit Baekhyun, and what were you going to tell me by the time you were allowed back?’ I ask him as tears spontaneously started rolling over my cheeks. ‘I was planning on making you forget so that you wouldn’t have to miss me,’ he says and pulls me closer, ‘but I have missed so much sleep just thinking about doing it.’ ‘And what about the others?’ I ask him as I dry my tears. ‘They are in a more difficult situation,’ he explains, ‘they are never ever allowed to go back up. Which is fine for a few years, but we’re already dead. Being on earth forever is not something we do for fun. We go down once or twice a year to have some fun, but we never stay long. It kills us.’ ‘So they’ll be here forever? What did they do?’ ‘There are angel wars. Terrible wars that never lead to anything and start for no other reason than boredom. One time you would fight with your friends and other you would fight against them. They were recruited in different armies, but when the battle started, it turned out that they were all the same army. Hundreds of angels killed their comrades and were send down here forever because they didn’t even think twice before killing their friends.’

Baekhyun’s POV

Luhan comes standing next to me as we watch Jimin walk home. She insisted on walking to clear her head. I get that. She has a lot to think about right now, but I fear she might lock herself in her room. That’ll be horrible for Yixing. He won’t know what to do and now that Jongdae is also here, things are getting a little worse for her. She has to take care of two angels with memory loss now. At least Jongdae knows that he has to dress himself, but there is a lot of stuff he doesn’t know. ‘So what will she do now?’ Luhan asks me. ‘I don’t know. Now that Jongdae is in her house too, we might have to reconsider asking her if she wants to live with us,’ I suggest. The both of us walk over to the couches and sit down with the rest of the group. ‘Don’t you guys think it’s strange that Junmyeon is still up there?’ kyungsoo questions. Sehun huffs at the question. ‘Do you really think he’ll do something to break the law just to get down here with us? This place is like hell but less hot,’ he snaps. ‘Can we just get back to Jimin’s situation?’ Luhan asks slightly annoyed. ‘I suggest we ask her to stay here or at least bring Jongdae here,’ Jongin says confidently. ‘I agree.’

#exo imagine #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #zhang yixing fanfic #yixing fanfic #yixing fanficiton #lay fanfic #lay fanfiction #baekhyun #chen #jongdae #chanyeol #pcy #kyungsoo #satansoo #luhan #xiumin #minseok #kris #tao #suho #junmyeon #sehun #kai #jongin #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop

[rabbitwrite]

Among Monsters of Men

kihyun x reader

characters: magician!reader (gender neutral), magician!kihyun, cait sìth!hyungwon, faun!minhyuk, näkki!wonho (+more mythical creature!mx in later parts)

genre: fantasy

word count: 2005

part 1/?

With the power to tame mythical creatures to do their bidding, magicians were individuals greatly looked down upon in society.

Your particular village was more than unaccepting of your kind; they loathed you enough to banish you once they found out about your true identity.

In a dire attempt to save your life, you stumble upon a particular Cait Sìth that invites you to meet and live with his master... another one of your kind.

Words of hatred bellowed even at this distance, and objects were thrown towards every direction you ran in. Diving for the cover of the thickest bramble you could spot, it provided a narrow entrance to the outskirts of the village you had once called home.

The village you had just been banished from.

The fact that you had lived there peacefully for your whole life was apparently no match for the fact that you were a Magician.

It was beyond risky to inhabit such a location that loathed your kind, but until now it had been easy to conceal your true identity.

It wasn't your fault that a manticore just had to stumble upon the village and ruin everything.

Past the overgrowth were an array of trees, and you made haste as you climbed the nearest one. The treetop gave you a decent aerial view where you could clearly spot the mob of villagers that had driven you out mercilessly, though the same was not applied to their part.

They seemed to be disinterested with you at this point anyways, for they rejoiced amongst themselves as they cheered and embraced and cast their weaponry aside.

"Congratulations for ridding yourselves of your "beloved" magician," you muttered to yourself bitterly, still panting from the chase.

One thing was for sure, you certainly weren't going to save them from the next creature that stumbled upon their territory.

Blocking out the noise of the mob, you crawled across the branches of the tree before leaping onto the next, as well as the tree after that one. When you had finally created a suitable distance between yourself and the village, you descended from the heights and leaped off.

Just before your body collided with the surface of the ground, your fingers casted a spell that froze your being in place. You were lowered to safety once you pointed your index finger downwards.

Heaving a sigh, you were finally able to regain your composure. They wouldn't come for you now, hopefully.

You weren't aware of how much time had past since you had taken your break. The only thing you noticed was a soft mewl in front of you.

Opening the lids of your eyes ever so slightly, you made eye contact with a large cat by your feet. The feline had a coat as black as coal, aside from the patch of pure white fur on its chest.

Leaning away from the tree trunk you had rested your back on while still making sure you kept a fair distance away from the creature, you knew not to assume it was any regular cat. A Cait Sìth, you concluded judging from its appearance.

Just as you had anticipated, it was the creature who initiated conversation.

"Well aren't you exhausted," it purred almost tauntingly. "I haven't seen another Magician in ages. What's your story?"

"I'm assuming you didn't notice the mob of humans by the village," you muttered bitterly, jutting your head towards the establishment from behind.

The Cait Sìth stretched its body across the grass for a moment, snickering in amusement while he was at it. "Ah, mortal versus magician isn't it? What a shame, they're not very accepting to magical beings like us."

"I figured that out the hard way. They chased me out of the village once they found out, and there's no way I'll be able to go back there," standing up from your resting spot, you patted the dirt off of your pants. "Not that there'd be anything to return to. They're probably burning my house down as we speak."

"How unfortunate," the Cait Sìth's whiskers twitched as his face contorted into an expression that seemed like a frown. It was difficult to interpret in its feline form.

He stepped backwards, flicking his tail in the air in a rapid movement in order to gain your attention. "Perhaps I could help you with your little predicament. My master could, at least. He's also a Magician, and I'm sure he wouldn't mind another one of his kind residing in his household for a bit."

Your eyebrow quirked upwards at the offer, and the creature's expression quickly shifted into a smile when he noticed you were intrigued. It wasn't everyday you were granted the opportunity to meet another Magician ー there were scarcely any at all residing within your rural area ー nor was it common to have a free and safe place to stay. It was risky to accept offers from a stranger, but it would hurt you more to resist than to oblige. "Is that so? Then lead me to your Magician, if you would."

"Certainly," mewed the Cait Sìth, waiting for you to get up before proceeding through an overgrowth of bramble behind him.

The creature ー his name being Hyungwon which you found out after a bit of small talk along the journey ー led you deeper into the woods until the two of you reached a clearing.

It seemed like the heart of the forest, where a variety of flowers and herbs alike were abundant and trees were so tall you could hardly see their zeniths. Situated behind colorful flowerbeds and across from a water well was a tiny cottage that looked like an eyesore compared to the rest of its surroundings.

The old, aging wood it was made of looked as if were being consumed by the vines that engulfed the vast majority of the home, though it didn't entirely conceal the other flaws, dents, and blemishes of its exterior. You couldn't help but grimace at the unappealing establishment, unable to imagine another Magician residing within the poor excuse for a household.

Resisting the urge to ask Hyungwon if he had led you to the wrong place, you simply took a deep breath before the Cait Sìth pushed open the creaky door and led you inside.

The sour expression formerly plastered on your face was long gone by the time you were able to process your surroundings. Clearly you were not prepared to witness the interior of the cottage, the plush carpeting, grand staircase, and array of various portraits hanging on the wall were far too beautiful and whimsical to handle at once. You swore there was a faint sound of a harp somewhere in the distance, and the sound contributed to the atmosphere pleasantly.

It was enchanting, literally, and clever at that. Only a Magician would be able to expand the interior so greatly, and create an illusion for those to grow weary on the outside yet reward those who bothered to see within.

"It takes a bit of time to get used to," Hyungwon stated, though the feline creature was nowhere to be seen. Instead stood a handsome young man who towered over you. You almost asked if it was truly him, but he did speak with the same voice that had spoken to you prior to your arrival.

His appearance now still bore similarities to his former; slacks, skinny pants, and a blazer all black aside from his dress shirt to represent the white patch from his fur. He still had the same cat-like smirk spread across his face, the wide amber eyes that gleamed with amusement, and ears that poked out of his neatly combed dark hair.

Hyungwon tilted his head upwards, sniffing the air briefly. "It's awfully quiet, I wouldn't be surprised if some of the others are still out and about. We should make our presence known," he murmured quietly, but before you could respond the Cait Sìth turned towards the stairs and shouted, "Master Kihyun! I've returned!"

Plugging your ears as the man had been speaking, you were alarmed with the tremendous volume he was able to shout with. In fact, he seemed as if he were going to shout for his Master again until the Kihyun fellow emerged at the top of the staircase.

A transportation spell, you concluded as the Magician fully materialized. He had pink hair that complimented the rest of his outfit, sparkly black tunic paired with robes a cosmic violet that gave them a galactic illusion. 

Resting his hands against the railing to peer down at you and the Cait Sìth, he narrowed his eyes before speaking.

“So you’ve brought a guest, I see. How unexpected,” the Magician declared, though he didn’t seem particularly thrilled.  You frowned lightly in response to his displeasure, but allowed Hyungwon to respond rather than yourself.

“A Magician from the neighbouring village, Master Kihyun. Aren’t you glad to have someone like you in the household for once?” Hyungwon tilted his head to the side. “Be thankful I didn’t have another creature tag along instead.”

The corners of Kihyun’s lips curved upwards, but you couldn’t tell if his expression was sarcastic or not. “As pleasant enough as it is to have another one of my kind  around for a moment, I’d much rather have the Magician population stay as one thank you very much.”

The Cait Sìth flicked his tail sharply (you didn’t notice the additional cat feature until now), as if it were a signal meant for you. Clearing your throat, you decided to finally intervene.

“I haven’t got any other place to go. I was banished from said village solely for the fact that I am a Magician, and I doubt I’d be able to return there.”

And just like magic, Kihyun’s expression softened. The look he gave you was rich with sympathy, almost apologetic.  “I see…” he muttered, tapping his foot against the ground before he finally gave in. “I suppose I can shelter you for the time being.”

The pink haired man whirled around for a second, directing his body towards his side. “Minhyuk!” he called, bringing his index finger towards his neck to cast a spell that amplified his voice.

After a brief pause, you heard a rapid pitter-patter of what sounded like hooves. There was also a few twangs of harp here and there, pretty  but unlike the melodious tunes you faintly heard upon your entrance.

A male Faun emerged from the corridor Kihyun was facing. You took a moment to gaze at his features, as it was your first time seeing one of his kind in person. A humanoid appearance was maintained for the most part, aside from the little horns that protruded through his dark hair, but from his torso and downwards he had the waist and hind legs of a goat. The Faun, presumably Minhyuk, smiled cheerfully as his fingers were intertwined with the golden harp he held as if it were attached to him. “What can I assist you with, Kihyun?”

“I don’t require your assistance at this moment, but our honored guest does. Um,” the Magician and Faun turned to face you simultaneously, and after a mutual exchange of blank glances you finally realized they were waiting for you to introduce yourself.

After giving them your name, Kihyun took a moment to get accustomed to saying it by repeating it a good seven times before continuing. “Yes… so Minhyuk, lead them to the spare room and review the basic household guidelines. Let them get comfortable, is that clear?”

“Crystal clear!” the Faun responded, running his fingers through all of the harp strings before he gestured for you to come up the stairs.

Bowing to both Hyungwon and Kihyun while offering a quick “thank you”, you rushed up the steps to meet with the Faun.

“But don’t get too comfortable!” Kihyun suddenly added before you proceeded to follow Minhyuk as he led you down the corridor from which he came from.

“I should warn you now, things in this house are generally pretty rowdy, so you should brace yourself well,” Minhyuk declared notably very enthusiastic for a warning.

You chuckled in response, lightly dragging your fingertips against the golden swirls on the wallpaper beside you. “I spent my life living among many mortal villagers in a very simple village, I’m sure I’m capable of inhabiting an enchanted household with three magical beings.”

Minhyuk laughed louder than you initially had. “Who said there were only three of us?”

#mxwriters #ok i abandoned this a few weeks ago #but i started writing it again and finished it quick IM ACTUALLY SO PROUD OF THIS #i have chapters for dd and v&v coming up in progress but this... #its so fun writing this so hehe #i'll try to update more actively :) #i was gonna write more for this chapter and introduce wonho too but then i was like #...that makes a good cliff hanger... + its like almost 2k exactly #I'LL PROBS UPDATE THIS QUICKLY THO #i'll try to update things quicker tho :') #monsta x #kihyun #yoo kihyun #amom #kpop #monsta x fanfic #monsta x fanfiction #kihyun fanfic #kihyun fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kihyun smut #kpop smut #monsta x smut #fantasy #fantasy au #magician au #au #fanfic #fanfiction