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morallyinept · 5 months

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A full transcribe of EZRA'S dialogue/lines from the film PROSPECT.

Includes full dialogue, and dialogue from any deleted/additional scenes available.

I've created this as a point of reference when writing for Pedro's characters, and I hope you find it useful. Even if you just want to read the dialogue. 🖤

FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

Please also see my Writing For Ezra Guide for further analysis of his character and dialect.

☝🏻Dialogue has been fully transcribed by myself using reference to original scripts (if available), audio subtitles and using my own two ears. Therefore, mistakes can be made, however I have tried to be as fully accurate as I can. If you spot an obvious mistake, please kindly let me know. Where audio is not clear, I have marked with *inaudible* Scenes are separated for ease of reference.

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Edited - I've been made aware of some errors since the original posting of this, so I've edited it to correct. Special thanks to those who have let me know! 🖤

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FULL SCRIPT DIALOGUE:

*Fading in* … Curious.

Don't see too many kips around these ways anymore.

Not a kip… a returner!

Is that a serious question?

I believe you, gentle man.

But my partner always needs a little convincing. He'll just kill me, if I let you go without a thorough search. I never caught your name, friend.

Nice to meet you, Damon. I'm Ezra. I can't tell you how refreshing it is… hoo, to encounter another talker. It's been quite some time since we've run into anyone with fluid in motion. Where're you from, Damon?

How poetic. I take it you're a, hmm… floater? Freelancer. You don’t look very Fringely.

Yeah, don’t we all.

Alright, Damon. Understand what, now?

Damon, it has truly been a pleasure, but… pleasantries passed, it's time to gut the fencer. To be completely candid, this haul has proven to disappoint. Me and my partner both feel we deserve… satisfaction. You understand?

So, how did you get here, Damon?

Your ship. Where is it? Or perhaps a ship is a tick too rich for you, a drop pod, I reckon.

Excellent. The starter, if you don't mind.

Where is it? Don't make me root for it, Damon. I guarantee you, I'll make it an unnecessarily painful process.

That is not necessarily true. Nevertheless, continuing within the act of killing is a broad spectrum of technique. So, there is still an incentive for you to acquiesce if that's where you're getting at.

A twist? Go on.

And why would you be so cryptic under rails? You are lucky I am not immune to intrigue. But be careful you don't overplay this technique.

I've seen my share.

That's a theory.

It's funny. I don't see any mercs. Where are they?

Okay. I'd like to believe you. Admittedly, more out of desire than good sense. But Damon… if there is talk of the queen’s lair, the excitement is all but in involuntary.

And there's three of us. We split it in thirds. That's an even split.

This is so exciting!

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What did your outfit look like, back in the day? You've always went solo?

Fancy. We had a full crawling party when we arrived here. Not one of your freighter takes, a testin' screamer.

Mercs in the Green, huh? Last I heard the word "merc" was way back when Crebon raiders hit up all the corporate expeditions.

Caero clan? You friendly with these fellas?

These cables… Goddamn it.

You know, this is something I have never seen in all my time on The Green. A little girl.

Damon, I have clearly underestimated you, I must stop doing that.

Damon… Does this mean that the plan is off? You have me all up and bothered over the queen's lair, Damon.

Alright, you can have your fabled spoils all to yourself. But if your talk of the queen's lair is true… this is just a scratch.

Your girl is scared. You should listen to her. No harm done, yet.

It's a shame, Damon. We could've been rich together.

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You got a field-kit?

Hey! Field-kit!

Are you gonna shoot?

That is… technically true.

Kevva waits, girl! Shoot or help! Just make a move.

Get me a kit and we can talk.

Your offer is indeed generous. Y'know, I'd be more than happy to sign and seal, save for one glaring slip. My ship.

Well I did. Then there was an event with my crew concerned in a bit of Aurelac and… words and metal flew. And now, I don't. We're in the same trough, you and I. Can’t say I was pleased to find your mare all black and cockways as she was supposed to be my redemption as well.

Whoa! Whoa! Just slow down a beat there, little bird. At least wait for the counter-offer.

How is it you intend to get home? That is the goal. Am I right?

The Mercs. They’re real aren’t they? Mmm-hmm. And the queen's lair? Mmm-hmm.

You are making a run for them.

Listen, I know well the lure of vengeance. I myself have… frequently indulged, and I have not often found regret. But in this moment, right here, I'm afraid for both our sakes, I must riposte.

I say, we go to your mercs. I play the prospector. And together we ravage the queen.

Let me help you. I can harvest. I can offer protection. A girl your age, a child, wanders into a camp of fringely mercs, raw. At the end of the tour, what happens? You appeal to their sympathies? They have none. They are ruthless profiteers. You must have something to offer or they will find something to take from you.

That's the fringe, girl. If you're one to point fingers at extortion, well, there's not much I can say.

Now, hold on. I'm keen to make the case that Damon killed himself.

He was trying to steal my trophy case, is what he was trying to do. A man's work is no petty thing. To you, his daughter… I truly apologise for my contribution to his passing. But he was stealing my entire harvest. And actions like these foment the threat of appropriate reactions. Your father knew that, and if didn't, then he had no business in The Green.

I am, indeed. But, are you?

It was all in the name of self-preservation, birdie, it was nothing personal.

I’m your safest route home and in the end we’ll both be rich.

Of course. There is one more thing. My filter's spent. I'm gonna need a hook-up.

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What is your name?

Do you mind if I take a look?

What do you know about these mercs? When did they arrive? How many are there?

He didn’t tell you anything? It's bad practice keeping you in the dark, if you ask me.

A deep partnership is only made so by candid discourse.

Number Two was more of a utility than a partner. And it seems like your father treated you the same way.

What's your name?

Well, I have to call you something.

Oi, Number Three. Watch that tube, girl. Straight finger.

Thank you.

If you don't know the thing about channel rats, is when they fornicate, they excrete a hormone substance - I don't really know what it's called - but it's uncannily sticky, it cocks up electrics. And it smells exactly like, but significantly more potent than, stale human urine.

Anyways, we stripped every panel in that ship. We clubbed those rat beavers to death. Two at a time. It was a toilsome marathon of carnage. We never did find the nest.

You know, eventually, you're gonna have to trust me.

Just give me a moment.

You should keep the thrower low, we could be surrounded.

I said, keep it low.

Don't show any sign of aggression. Drop it. Put your hands above your head.

Just do it.

Just do it! Now!

We have to follow him. The wound would appear… ideal bite. It still has some venom. The dust. It’s found its way in and now it festers. The Sater are religious settlers and tedious scavengers. They should be amenable to trade for medical supplies.

We don’t have a choice.

Shoot me, then.

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(Greets in Sater language) I have sustained a wound that, due to inadequate treatment, now festers pink. I was hoping you had some juice?

Thank you, sir. We are tremendously grateful.

I thought perhaps it might interest you for trade.

A wise and understandable measure. We shall stow them at our discretion and return shortly, unarmed. Is that acceptable to you and your colleagues?

Here.

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That was beautiful.

Juice. It's good for you, cleanses the dust.

Thank you for your kindness. Now, as you can see, I have sustained a trauma to my shoulder. I would much like to flush it with your magic juice. And to keep straight… we would also be very much interested in proper dressing, and filter refreshers, if you have them and can spare them? In return for your gracious offering, we are prepared to compensate with generosity in equal measure.

I'm sorry, I don't understand.

That is a bold offer.

What do you need her for?

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(Ezra’s radio transmission) Hello! Hello to the green! I got… *inaudible*... I got one or two fourteen grade root pearls that I'm willing to part with for well over the peakest of rush rates. Nothing funny. Just a desperate man trying to make a bad deal with the right hold out. If anyone is out there, don't hesitate to click on...

Take your helmet off.

You look like shit. Eat it. There’s cases of 'em in here.

Here. I need your help.

After you left, those Sater weren't too keen on helping me out… So I had to treat myself. I botched the excision. I was unable to clean and scrape the blackness. Now if I don't lose my arm, it'll kill me. And I can't perform the procedure by myself.

No.

You ever use one of these before? It's easy. Prime it like this… then there are five levels of intensity. Two for the flesh, four for bone. You got it?

Thank you.

I won't feel a thing. Hack away. Quick, confident strokes are best. Try to go full circuit on the first cut.

I've never had to use these surettes before. Kind of nice… tingling, almost like… oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit!

Oh, shit. Oh, shit, oh, shit.

No, I don’t know. Keep going, you're doing great. Keep going until you hit bone.

I’m gonna miss him. My primary weapon, been with me my whole life. Always there, ready to help, no job too gritty, no love too intimidating.

Up to four, as soon as it's off, give my stump a hearty coat in the juice and cream it all shut! Clear?

How are you so calm? You've done this before.

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So, where’s home?

Spoken like a true floater. What's that book you carry around?

"Streamer Girl"?

You wrote a novel?

There's not a lot of literature in circulation out here.

Well, it seems I must.

You memorised it?

Not at all. It's quite impressive.

Focus on what?

Well, you can't… you can't think like that. You go down that path, it's not good. If you need someone to blame, you blame me. You need to think about your next move. Be on that freighter in a tick.

It’s nice to meet you, Cee.

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Well. There's our ride.

Stay clear and close and I’ll talk us through. When it comes time to dig, I’ll need you to be sharp. I've never harvested one-handed before. I'm gonna need some help. But we'll keep it creamy and it’ll all be fine.

Damon, here for the dig. You wouldn't believe the time we’ve had of it, getting here. I wholeheartedly apologise for being late. But after the storm tidied us off mark, we were already a cycle back and naturally-

I wholeheartedly apologize. You wouldn't believe…

Well, actually… uh, before we get started. I'm afraid I must interject. I haven't been completely candid with you yet. After an erring landing and toilsome trick, there is one more significant detail to our story, one that forces us to leverage our talents for little bit more than the agreed upon price.

It's not more of a cut we're after. The points are more than adequate payment for the two of us. Rather it's a means of transit we lack.

Well, now, what she means to say is that while transport is a requisite part of the deal, we are willing to forgo two points. Which by any reckoning is exorbitant compensation for a hop into orbit.

Oh, come now. In a prize… Scrap well over the weight of the passenger and a half. Cargo braces. That's one hundred, one-thirty right there.

You're not understanding me. Everything has changed. If you're not willing to scrap payload, scrap crew for all I care, but you'll find a way, if you want that buried treasure.

I am the gatekeeper to more wealth than any of us have ever seen, and you've been wasting in The Green for far too long to let that slip away. I'm afraid, I am the only means to the successful end of your venture. And I say the terms have changed. Thirteen, plus a ride for me and my partner on your handsome craft or no deal. Find a way.

My boy, this is a winner! I think a little back up thrust is an easy drop under the circumstances. What do you say, boss?

Gentlemen. And women… Let's get rich!

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Strange method for an execution. What did this fella do to land him in the box?

How convoluted!

Somebody ought to give her a go.

That's the price for a dry breach. But my chem will calm the brine.

Hello, sweetheart.

It's a big one.

You got it? Hold it nice and tight.

Hold it like you love it.

Oh. That's perfect.

Slippery son of a bitch.

No, no, no. Shit!

Not to worry, we go again.

(Muttering to self) *Inaudible* (?)leech on the(?) …cock spitters … cannot fuck more nuggets in this sleep for snatch, pearls…

It's a little difficult to carve weak-handed!

Now hold on!

Those shots will bring the rest of ‘em in.

I don’t know.

Greedy fool! Couldn't help himself. Took a stumble, getting a closer look. Now, time presses and I am gonna need assistance if we're-

Go, go, go!

Move!

I'm out.

If we uncouple you can run a distraction, opening me up for the backstab.

Are you sure?

You run fast and you don’t stop. You keep plenty of trees between you and her. You come straight back here as soon as I make the kill so we can re-couple. Clear?

You need to go. You grab the gun and you go. You can make it.

Get outta here!

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DELETED SCENE:

What is your name?

Well, I have to call you something.

Once, a long time ago, there was a channel rat. Well, first there was an entire nest. Caulked up in the floorboards of my skimmer, this was back when I was running catkins with my brother in Parson.

If you don’t know, thing about channel rats, is when they fornicate, they excrete a hormone substance - I don’t remember what it's called - but the relevant details are that it is uncannily sticky, it cocks up electrics, and it smells exactly like, but significantly more potent than, stale human urine.

So, this horny cohort is scrambling around unseen, plastering up my walls with their piss paste, and the smell… was so horrific. And we had to wear nuke suits all the time, even when we slept.

So, after we exhausted our repertoire of civilised extermination methods, it soon devolved into barbarism.

We stripped every panel in that ship and clubbed those rat beavers to death, two at a time. It was a toilsome marathon of carnage. But the bag of corpses steadily grew heavier.

We never did find the nest. But by the end of the run, we were down to what as far as we could tell was the last rat standing. This little bitch waits until we make ground fall, saunters into the galley, climbs up onto the table, and I spin you not, stands right up on its hind legs and starts calmly munching on a piece of bush bread.

Maybe it was our impending reunion with civilization, or maybe it was exhaustion, but neither of us could bring ourselves to bash that last channel rat. So we just sat there and watched it eat the entire biscuit.

When it was done, it walked over to the airlock, waited at the hatch as if it expected us to just open it, so we did. And then walked out.

You remind me of that channel rat, so in the absence of a given moniker, I will now call you Channel Rat.

Number Three it is.

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FULL MASTERLIST OF PEDRO CHARACTERS DIALOGUE

#ezra prospect #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #ezra prospect 2018 #prospect film #prospect 2018 #ezra dialogue

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genericpuff · 10 months

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Hiii, I read your post about the stiff dialogue in LO, and I wanted to add my own two cents!

I myself am a person with a nice case of dyslexia (it will most likely show in this message). While I can’t speak for everyone with dyslexia, I pesonally cannot and will not publish anything ”official”, without spell checking it to hell and back. This is mostly because I’m hyper aware of this being one of my ”shortcomings”.

I also wanted to say, that most of, if not all, people with dyslexia that I know are rather self-consious about it. I just find it a bit unbeliavable that all the misspellings/awkward text in LO are there simply because Rachel has dyslexia. To me personally, it seems to be more a product of laziness and/or indifference.

Of course there is the fact that I’m not working on a long project, and I can usually take my time with my work, so maybe I just have more recourses to be careful. I also want to make clear that I don’t mean to say that Rachel’s dyslexia doesn’t affect her workload at all, but I do think she should have the means to check these things, especially since she is quite successful in the field.

Thanks for pitching in on this! I myself do not have dyslexia, but I do understand the struggle of missing words or misspelling them as my brain tends to move too quick at times for my writing speed to keep up LMAO It happens a lot when I'm writing by hand as I can't handwrite as fast as I can type so words sometimes go missing while my brain speeds ahead 😂

I can get why someone might be a little more self-conscious about typos being pointed out if they're making their comic entirely on their own and for free, or if they're just self-conscious about making mistakes in general (it can be scary to put a piece of work out into the world!) but Rachel is literally the top creator on the platform so there's zero excuse for it to have gone this long without at least a copy editor. And frankly it's still weird that they hire a copy editor at all just for checking typos because that's something that can be done so easily (again, Rachel has 4-5 other assistants per episode, you're telling me NONE of them could do it for her? Oh that's right, because she has them all draw their panels in isolation of one another and then she slaps the dialogue in at the last minute -.- the copy editor she has right now seems like the 'last step' before she submits the comic).

That said, if you go back far enough, you can actually find Rachel's take on correcting her misspellings and it's... frankly way saltier than it ought to be? Like I get it, it might feel like an attack for someone to say "hey, I spotted this mistake!" especially if you're self-conscious about it or are living with a learning disorder that affects your every day life, but when you get over that self-consciousness of making mistakes, it's really not that big of a deal? Like, yeah, it can be really frustrating when people point those mistakes out because it makes you feel bad or reminds you that you're struggling with something like spelling that seems so natural and 'easy' to everyone else, but I find true genuine fans of your work don't point these things out to be mean, just to be helpful. Yes, some people are mean about it, but you can usually tell which ones are the mean ones and which ones are the nice ones.

I've made spelling and grammatical errors in both Time Gate and Rekindled that have been kindly pointed out, and you know what I do when people find them? I thank them for spotting what I clearly didn't and I go and fix it. Because it makes my work better for my audience and my own peace of mind.

Rachel, meanwhile-

(tiny picture translation:

Question: Why do you have typos?

Rachel's answer: Yes, believe it or not I speak English. (English-New Zealand not English-American) Remember... not everyone cares about spelling. And frankly if go around pointing out spelling mistakes in peoples comics you have an issue. Plus I'm dyslexic you insensitive ass!)

Like... that whole thing is from her FAQ section that she made herself and she's still having a tone of voice that implies she's directing her answer at one specific person as if it was like an anon ask LMAO and really, I get the spirit of what she's saying, it can be pretentious/rude to point out people's spelling mistakes... in an informal or conversational setting. If you're making a comic or writing a book, though, it's basically a bare minimum expectation that you should be using spell check and making sure things are readable. You're making the work for other people to read after all. So her tone in this followed by the whole "I'm dyslexic you ass" bit just feels so unnecessarily hostile over something that was an innocent mistake and happens to literally everyone. Like, she really do be hurting her own feelings in her own FAQ that she made on her own time, this isn't the only question in there that reeks of 2000's edgy era "fuck you for asking" energy lmao

That said, to be fair, that is from her 2000's edgy era, so I'm hoping she's grown out of that at least slightly, but judging by how she's been managing her comic the past few years, it's clear she still isn't bothering to employ simple tactics to keep mistakes from slipping through the cracks and would rather lean on her dyslexia as an excuse rather than a reason. Dyslexia is a reason for typos, but where it becomes an excuse IMO is when she blames her dyslexia and then doesn't fix the mistakes that arise due to her dyslexia or do anything to make her life easier going forward.

Again, she's hired a copy editor, so if they're a permanent part of the team now, that will hopefully make things better. But why weren't they one of the first people hired when it's clear that Rachel could really use the help to ensure her comic comes out being the best version of itself it could be? It's like she's been literally shooting herself in the foot for the last 5 years.

It really feels lazy and, frankly, disrespectful. I know that might be a hot take or seem a little overblown to use that word here, but if you're going to be creating a comic for an audience - and expecting that audience to read your comic each week and in Rachel's case be expected to pay money for it - then you should be doing them the service of making it worth reading and sticking around for. If you can't even do so much as spell check your work - or go back and edit the errors when they arise - then that really goes to show how little you care about your own audience because you're not willing to put in the time and effort to even just fix a typo, let alone give them something worth coming back to and paying for each week. Sure, not everyone pays for the comics, but those viewership analytics are still valuable and it's very clear at this point that they're dropping rapidly week after week, and yet Rachel is doing barely anything to help turn things around.

Lore Olympus disrespects its audience in more ways beyond just the typos, of course, but the typos feel like the shopping cart litmus test - it costs next to nothing to resolve the issue, so if you still choose not to, it speaks to how little effort you're willing to put in to do something helpful for others that already only requires the bare minimum to do.

Of course, much of this is all speculative so take it with grains of salt, but judging by her responses to her own audience way back in the day, it really paints a picture of how Rachel views her audience. It makes it feel like she doesn't release her work into the world to genuinely entertain people or to find others who may connect and resonate with the work, she does it purely for herself and herself alone. That wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing in and of itself, it's pretty difficult to keep up a project if you aren't doing it for yourself to some degree (and you shouldn't create a comic just to earn an audience because that's just setting up unfair expectations for yourself lol), but in Rachel's case, it feels more like she's emulating the same edgelord energy of her "boss babe" Persephone - if you don't love every part of her and her work regardless of its genuine flaws, no matter how easy said flaws would be to fix, then you should just shut up and read her work and/or pay for it anyways because she should be allowed to do whatever she wants and if you don't like it, then you're an insensitive ass.

#ama #ask me anything #anon ask me anything #anon ama #lore olympus critical #lo critical #antiloreolympus #anti lore olympus

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dear-mrs-otome · 2 years

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Silvio Ricci - Your Fault I'm So Horknee Event - Premium End

Standard Disclaimer: I do this for fun. I don’t, and never would, claim to be proficient at JP. There will be mistakes herein. There will be dialogue I choose to smooth out or change, because it feels choppy just straight translating. There will be the occasional snarky aside and irreverence and just plain summarizing. If you’re looking for 100% pure accuracy, without commentary or localizing, this is not for you. If you don’t mind that…then proceed, and I hope you enjoy! And please, support your local localizer (they make this stuff look easy) and Cybird by playing the games and routes when they come to English.

Note: This story event, like others recently, requires one to finish the Sweet End before the Premium can be chosen. The Premium is an expansion on and slight continuation of the events of the Sweet, but from the suitor POV - as is the epilogue. This post contains the Premium end only. The beginning of the story and the Sweet end can be found here. I will post the Epilogue separately.

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After he’d brought her home from Rhodolite to Benitoite, the problem became glaringly obvious.

“...There’s way more,” Silvio says.

“There is more,” Carlo agrees.

They’re looking over the vast quantity of things filling up Silvio’s room, enough to leave him stunned. All gifts, but not a one addressed to him - they’re all for her.

It’s not necessarily a bad thing…but it rubs him wrong. “Toss them all in the storehouse,” he instructs Carlo.

Carlo asks whether he should give the report of it all to Emma. Silvio tells him no need, but that he should hold onto it so it can be given to her at some point down the line.

“And when will that be?” Carlo asks.

Silvio frowns. “I don’t know. But at the very least, not now." He says that getting so many gifts will only trouble her.

The only people who are circling her now are merchants with entrepreneurial designs, the sort who would only see her as a tool to use…and it’s not a pleasant feeling. But above all, none of these gifts are fitting for Emma, given that she values the sorts of things money can’t buy.

Emma isn’t some tool to be used for business. What the hell do you all think you’re doing with my girl?

That’s just how business works - schmoozing is part and parcel of the deal. But when it comes to her, he has a hard time being objective about it. He knows better than anyone how empty relationships based around money are.

“...As good a man as always…” Carlo says softly, and Silvio grabs him by the head, scowling, until a flailing Carlo swears he won’t say it again.

“I’m not a good person. I just don’t like it,” Silvio corrects him.

I should be the only one to give Emma gifts in the first place.

He can’t claim to not want to keep that privilege all to himself.

~~~~~~~~

It’s important that Emma be made known to many people, especially given that she can’t avoid social life if she’s to be the next king’s consort. Receiving gifts also falls under the umbrella of official duties…but people’s assessing stares are just too much for him to bear. That’s the sort of selfishness that has him keeping her from talking to others.

“You’re too overprotective, Silvio,” she says to him aboard the ship at the launch party, saying she’s figured out why he won’t let her speak with people.

He’s a bit taken aback at her proclamation that she’s figured out the truth…and it’s only made worse when she hits the nail on the head. Realizing she’s seen right through him.

Emma’s no fool, he knows…but she doesn’t seem ready to rebuke him for being selfish, much to his relief.

She lays out how he only steps in when people try to dig, and he’s not surprised by how observant she is as the former Belle.

“...It bothers me,” he admits. “All they care about is taking advantage of you.” He says he knows that’s partly just how the business world works, but he hates the idea of everything being about money when it comes to her. “Relationships built solely on money are hollow.”

You’re the one who made me realize that.

After she hears him out, she takes a deep breath, and declares she’s got to get better. Has to build relationships that move beyond marks on the ledger. Surprised by her proclamation and the way she seems so confident about it.

There are few women who would choose to change themselves rather than complain about their situations, in his experience, and he’s overwhelmed by how stinking adorable she is right now. Somehow barely managing to hold himself back.

Instead he comments on how she’s cheeky like that…but to himself he thinks that maybe he was too overprotective, and stifling her. She’s not incapable.

“You’d better come through on this, or I really won’t let you talk to anyone,” he threatens on a smile, and she assures him she’s got this.

I’ve ignored your will…he admits to himself, vowing to fix that.

She assures him she’s not as weak as he might think, and he concedes that - and also his difficulties in figuring out the right path to take when it comes to her. Whether to be strict or to coddle her. And when he says as much, she seems to be smiling with great amusement before enthusiastically telling him she doesn’t mind him being a bit harsh, she can take it and not let him down.

“Is that so…” Inside, he’s pleading with her to have mercy on him and stop saying such precious things in public.

“Then I’ll stop coddling you. I’m going to be strict with you.”

He reaches out to her without thinking - desperately wanting to hug her, after so long without. Then realizing that he doesn’t think just a hug will be enough. But she takes a step back for some reason, and he doesn’t mean to protest so loudly but he does. “I said I’d stop babying you, the ban should be lifted.”

She admits she didn’t mean to move away, and he demands she not do so then - silently begging her to hurry up and give in, because he doesn’t think he can take any more of this.

Or is she doing it on purpose?

When he moves in again, she backs up again, and he doesn’t understand why. She protests that they’re somewhere public, AKA on board, and everyone could be watching, but he doesn’t see the problem given that she’s his woman.

“It’s…embarrassing, isn’t it?” she asks.

Something seems to snap inside of him at that. Hunting her down, he tries to trap her against the wall, blaming her for all this and telling her to take responsibility - the two of them devolving in to bickering and chasing each other heedless of the party.

If I don’t have to go easy on her, then I don’t have to hold back on wanting her, right? he reasons.

~~~~~~~~

In the end, Emma proves the tougher opponent. Winning the on-board chase, and refusing to lift the no-touch ban even when they’re in the carriage on the way home.

“No more objections?” he asks, once they’ve returned to his room, but her response is tepid at best. And he doesn’t comprehend why she keeps her distance, almost as if wary of him. “Why are you acting like that? I thought you lifted the ‘no-touch’ ban.”

“I did. I did, but…I’m just weirdly nervous, because I haven’t been touched by you in awhile,” she explains.

“Huh?” he scowls.

She tries to tell him she’s gotta mentally prep herself, after so long, and he’s simultaneously scoffing aloud at that while internally wailing over how cute she is.

Anything resembling reason is utterly gone by now - leaving behind only beastly, irresistible desire.

“You told me I could touch you as much as I wanted to when we got back to my room, didn’t you?” he reminds her, and she haltingly affirms. “If you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be touched, I’ll remind you.”

If she’s not giving him the red light, he’s not about to take it easy, or to stop. He backs her into the corner of the room and sweeps her up into his arms before dropping a flustered Emma down atop the table, savoring the long-absent feeling of her warmth.

“Silvio…mnn.”

He kisses her, hard, to stop her words when she tries to object…and her hesitation about being touched doesn’t seem to extend to being kisses, because she seems to remember how to do so just fine. Her tongue meeting his halfway eagerly.

He knows she’s been wanting this for awhile now, badly. A longing look in her eyes whenever she touched him, whether she was aware of it or not…but he’s been painfully so.

Aloud, he accuses her of having really put him through the wringer as he carefully peels off the dress that had been made just for today and kneels on the floor. Emma coming out of her kiss-fueled daze and back to her senses.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“You’ll see,”he promises.

She flails at that and he takes her legs and spreads them firmly apart, over her embarrassed protests.

“Ten days,” he says, and she doesn’t follow. “”It’s been ten days since I last touched you. I’ll have you regretting you ever made me endure it that long.”

He’s been teased so much, nothing remains but painful desire. Pressing his lips to the tip of her toe, he kisses a slow path upwards - Emma making half-protests the entire time, but it’s obvious her heart isn’t in them.

To himself, he blames her for all of this, for being so cute. All on her entirely.

Working his way up past her knees, trailing kisses up her thighs - higher, to the place he knows will get him the best reaction of all…

(Silvio’s desire level: 150)

~~~~~~~~

<< Sweet End || Epilogue >> (TBC)

#spoiler #spoilers #ikemen prince spoilers #ikepri spoilers #mrs o loves salty seadogs #mrs o's translations of dubious quality #ikepri jp summary

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elizabethrobertajones · 2 years

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FFXIV Write: Day 15, Row

This is extremely stupid, but in my defence Fridays are not the day for me to write things that make sense. Instead it's a weirdly wordy one draft no second glance Thancred x Urianger (with actual dialogue under THESE working conditions) in Il Mheg pre-Shadowbringers, being weird and horny on a boat. In a teen rated way.

The boat was maybe not a hundred years old, perhaps rowed deliberately or by mistake to Il Mheg in the time since it had become the fairy kingdom. But it had certainly idled half-full of water and growing colourful flowers out of its mouldering planks for long enough that Thancred couldn’t credit it with not being an ancient Voeburtite relic.

“I really can just swim out there,” he repeated for the dozenth time since Urianger had explained his latest scheme and shown him the repairs he had made, that the boat could indeed float now. Even if it was still growing flowers. Apparently, the pixies had been sad if he tried to scrape them off to apply waterproof coating he’d crafted across the whole bow. He’d lived out here over a year now, long enough to become as whimsical and weird as his neighbours. Or, perhaps, to shed any pretence of not finding their love of ridiculous shenanigans an entirely reasonable practice.

“Thou must be within mine sight to cast the spell of concealment. To venture forth without it would surely condemn thee to a watery grave amongst the Fuath.”

“I think the boat is pretty,” Little Minfilia said quietly, and Urianger beamed at her like she’d actually decisively won the argument for him and not that his annoying correctness had done it.

Thancred pointed firmly at her. “You are staying on dry land.”

“Aw, but I have been getting ever so much better at swimming! I’ve been practicing holding my breath so I can do it as long as you!”

“Go back to the house, read a book, train with your knives, I don’t care. I can’t lug both of you back to shore on my back if this boat falls into a million pieces as soon as we’re a malm out.”

Minfilia looked devastated until Urianger put a hand on her shoulder and nodded. “Tis safest for thee to remain within the house until we return.”

She pouted, but took on a brave and resolute stance. “I’ll see you off then return.”

Thancred sighed, and re-crossed his already tense arms. Must everything be so difficult? He pulled his coat off, wadded it up and threw it into the boat, and started wading out to it. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”

Urianger hiked up his skirts to his knees to wade out after Thancred, and the flash of tan legs baffled Thancred into barely following events until he realised that Urianger had seated himself opposite, taken up the oars, and was starting to row, cautiously, out into Handmirror Lake. What had he been annoyed about? He forgave Urianger everything in an instant. He glanced back and saw Minfilia wave excitedly, and nodded to her. She nodded back, and turned to head to the house. She’d barely started off when Thancred found he wasn’t watching to make sure no harm came to her in that short walk, but that he was staring at Urianger once more.

The thing was, he hadn’t just become weirder out here in Il Mheg. He was flourishing like a rare flower that had been kept in the dark and suddenly been placed in a sun-drenched garden. Whatever madness had made him take up Astrology in a world with no stars across the night sky, for there was no night sky, had also gifted him a choice of attire that had made Thancred re-evalute his entire perception of Urianger on first sight, and continued to baffle and dazzle him moment by moment since. He’d once called him musty.

Right now, it was the realisation that he’d immediately assumed Urianger would be the one to row them out (it was his Nightworld relic he wanted fetched after all) and now was watching each slow but easy stroke of the oars, as Urianger’s bare arms, save for the masses of jewellery bedecking them, strained and stretched and showed off his unexpected muscle definition. Sparkling gems and gold and beads of sweat as the warm Light falling all around them, exposed with no chance of shade, muffled them like a hot blanket.

“Thou art unusually quiet. Pray tell me, does thy heart lingereth on our argument?”

Thancred shook his head. Perhaps it did hurt that he couldn’t yet find it in himself to be to Minfilia what Urianger had seamlessly become, but that was his own problem. And the whole debate about the boat had perhaps only been a need to quarrel, a mood that had passed over him after days alone with Minfilia, only to arrive here and find Urianger doing unaccountable things. “You’re certain the information you got was reliable?”

“I did most assuredly trust mine source, for I tradeth not with the pixies but a No Mou who once lived amongst the men of this sunken hamlet. They did confirm all that I had read and more, and the directions to the treasure I gave to thee come with a most trustworthy exchange of information for crafted goods I prepared. My research was most assiduously done.”

“That’s all I needed to know. I’ll jump in the lake for you.”

Urianger nodded, unashamedly smug because he knew all of Thancred’s complaints were merely fears for all their safety, and he was certain of that himself.

“Art thou certain tis all that’s on thy mind?”

Thancred blushed, because sure enough his eyes had fallen once more to the way Urianger’s shoulders moved as he rowed, tracking every motion with a fascination that didn’t just border on the perverse but walked deep into its territory. He wanted to bite the meat of his shoulder and feel those arms tight around him and lick all the way up those biceps and around the adornments that squeezed around them. “Are we nearly there?”

“See yonder bell tower peeking above the water’s surface?” He let go of an oar to point, and Thancred watched the way his arm moved and didn’t even follow the gesturing finger. Oh, he needed to jump in the cool water fast. He was in serious trouble. “The hall was once but a quarter malm from the alchemist’s workshop.” He leaned into the oars and Thancred had to push himself to close his mouth, uncertain how long it had been open. Twelve save him, no gorgeous young lady had ever befuddled him like a few minutes in Urianger’s presence. At least he knew exactly what to do with them.

“I think here is close enough. Prepare thyself for thy swim, and I will cast the enchantment.”

Thancred nodded, relieved beyond measure, and carefully stood in the small boat. He watched Urianger lift his astrometer and mutter the spell, and at once Thancred saw his own body fade from perceptibility. It maybe should have been more disturbing to see his own hands become blurry and imperceptible, but he had been watching the way Urianger’s arms moved interestingly in this new way of delicately manipulating the spell, long fingers oscillating through intriguing patterns, his muscles moving almost as intensely to cast the spell and channel the aether as to do the manual labour of rowing the boat – perhaps an answer to how he came to be so inexplicably muscular in the first place. Thancred had been assuming a youth of lifting heavy books and eating nothing but archon bread in all its overabundance of nutrition.

He shook his head to clear it, nodded to Urianger, and, dredging up the very clear and easy instructions he had been given not half a bell before, forced himself to remember where he was supposed to be going as he leaped into the water.

It was a simple task to navigate the sunken buildings, break open a crumbling door, and locate the clearly marked box on a shelf of strange things that, had swimming not been an object, Urianger would have loved to stay and study. Perhaps he should have collected some more to show him, Thancred thought, as he kicked his way back up to the searingly bright surface. Woo the ladies with baubles and flowers, Urianger with the forgotten alchemical equipment of a long-lost civilisation. And why was he even thinking such thoughts about wooing him.

Bursting through the surface beside the boat, he gasped in fresh air, and handed the box up to Urianger. Then as he was reaching for the edge of the boat to haul himself back up, Urianger’s hands suddenly were on his forearms, pulling him up. He gripped tightly in return, and allowed him to heave Thancred back onto the boat. He collapsed, panting, half on top of Urianger.

“I – I thought perhaps t’was best not to pull on the side of the boat. Perhaps there is merit in thy criticisms of its stability.” His face was so close. His hands still so firmly on Thancred’s arms as he dripped lake water all over him.

Thancred nodded, thinking only of how he could stroke his thumbs across Urianger’s forearms. And was doing so, to his alarm and horror because he hadn’t ever decided to do it. It was too much. He let go and scrambled back to his seat, pulled his coat across his lap and took a ragged, steadying breath. “W-we should return to shore.”

Urianger nodded, and, after stowing their prize carefully, he once more outwitted Thancred in this ridiculous torment that was being visited upon him, for he stretched out his arms and took up the oars.

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2022 #i wrote this #thanuri #still tagging it with a real ship tag because I may have SOME shame but not. Not enough.

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zalrb · 1 year

Text

OTH REWATCH REVIEW 3X02

A couple of anons have asked about my reviews so I did one :)

1. I don’t think you guys realize how 00s this whole look is

2. They’re really playing up this whole fire thing. That’s OTH, man, subtlety like a fucking brick.

3. I like that Anna is on Peyton’s side of the wall, that could’ve been interesting to explore.

That also would’ve been interesting.

5. “Are we friends?” “Tell you what, I’ll play you for it. Game to 11.” Jesus christ.

6. IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII DON’T WANNA BE ANYTHING OTHER THAN WHAT I’VE BEEN TRYNA BE LATELYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

7. Yo, Haley comes back to town SO indignant and I’m just like, what did you EXPECT?

8. “What the heck?” LOL really? Haley can’t say ‘hell’?

9. Peyton exhausts me.

10. I am forwarding through this Peyton/Ellie scene, I can’t do it.

11.

Like, I’m tired.

12. I was also tired when it was Elena’s storyline

Do boys ever get this storyline?

13. This is a really long scene to look at Hilarie struggling to cry

14. That looks like a pretty uncomfortable couch, Brooke.

15. omg their chemistry totally disappeared.

16. “Oh, by the way, I think I found a pair of your black gloves, leather right?” This dialogue is killing me.

17. This is such a long episode. Jesus.

18. Ugh, Keith and Karen, I just never got into them.

19. The pacing is SO slow. It’s like season 1.

20. “You’ve changed.” I mean, not really, he just isn’t talking to you, Haley. You kissed a guy, went on a tour, didn’t correct Chris when he said you two were dating on live TV, said that you thought they made a mistake when he drove across the country to see you, didn’t visit him in the hospital when he crashed a car, and called him twice throughout the entire ordeal. He doesn’t have much to say to you.

21. Shiftiest fucking drug dealer.

22. “Oh, look, it’s Tim, I had a dream you died.” The delivery.

23. Brooke dragging Peyton to the party to be a DJ is like OK respect your friend’s headspace but Peyton purposefully putting on depressing music because everyone has to suffer for her bad mood is also super petty.

24. Dan is a terrible detective.

25. LONGING LUCAS

26. Hilarie and Chad don’t even really have chemistry as friends, they’re just kind of around each other.

27. Lmao Brooke, Peyton’s biological mother just showed up out of the blue, she’s going through some shit. It’s annoying but you can’t be surprised that shes in a weird headspace right now and you can’t force her to be out of it.

28.

He’s just not talking to her! Did we forget that he got into a car crash over her like 2 seconds ago? Lmao.

29. AM I MORE THAN YOU BARGAINED FOR YET??????????????

30. AND SUGAR WE’RE GOING DOWN SWINGINNNNNNNNNNNN. lol the 00s.

31. Nathan showing up, not even talking to Haley but burning Tim’s guitar is lol. idk maybe I’m just petty but I respect this Nathan.

32. The height difference tho

33. WHEN ALL YOU GOTTA KEEP IS STROOOOOOOOONG MOVE ALONG MOVE ALONG

34. I’M THE GUY FOR YOU BROOKE DAVIS.

FOR. FUCKING. LEYTON?

35. It would’ve also been cool if Brooke and Nathan developed a kind of friendship this year while Haley and Lucas were trying to win their affections

36. “It used to be my cocaine vial.” You did coke once, Peyton, relax. I feel like Dina in Superstore

37. Oh yeah, don’t mind me, I’m just a grown ass adult walking into a teen party. Fucking Dan.

38. DAN SAW LUCAS’ FACE IN THE FIRE. GUYS, OMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG. SHIT’S ABOUT TO GET REAL. Lmao, I don’t think I cared for that storyline even when watching it live.

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thyshadowwriter · 3 years

Text

Lost & Found. Chapter 3.

Ivar Ragnarsson x oc.

Summary: being rescued by Helga in one of the raids and reluctantly tolerated by Floki, a young girl finds herself amidst a strange place with strange people, but if adapting to the cultural shock wasn't hard enough, catching the attention of the volatile and beloved son of the Queen would soon prove to be the ultimate proving. That is if she realizes just how much being around prince Ivar is walking on thin ice.

Author's note: family dynamics and fluff.

Tagging: @youbloodymadgenius

Understandment is hard when you can't speak to each other, but gestures may reach further than words.

--------

A few weeks after they returned, Floki's home had fallen into a strangely peaceful routine.

Floki would do his work, busy with Bjorn's request, while Helga would teach Revna their language for hours a day, every day, their voices being background noise for him.

Helga was radiant with joy. She loved taking care of Revna, spending a lot of time combing the long hair and doing beautiful and intricate braids while talking to her, to which Revna would sometimes reply and even if they couldn't understand each other an odd sort of dialogue would emerge.

While this arrangement made Floki uneasy, he could be thankful for his wife's happiness, she hasn't been happy in a long time. Even if happiness was a passing moment, it hurt him that Helga carried so much sorrow, most of which, if not all, he knew to be his fault.

Now, Revna was sitting on the chair shaking her leg and looking down, Floki occasionally looked at her and he didn't need to understand her words to understand her lately. She wasn't allowed outside yet and that was getting to her.

Helga came with a bowl of stew for Revna and tried to hand it to her.

"Here, I brought you food." Helga said to Revna.

She looked at the food then turned her head away to the floor and continued shaking her leg.

"You need to eat to get better, please." Helga tried to reason with her.

Revna answered with a small grunt, resting her head on her hand.

"What is it, my dear? You were doing so well." Helga said to her stroking her hair.

The girl didn’t answer, but Floki did it for her:

"She's bored, Helga. I think she wants to go out."

The realization dawned on Helga, making her smile kindly to the girl, carefully caressing her head. Poor thing, she had every right to be bored, but Helga wanted her to get stronger before facing the city.

Helga sat behind Revna and cupped her face, making the girl look at her. She spoke softly, trying to make her understand:

"I know you're bored, but you need to get strong before I show you Kattegat" she gestured to the door "I'll show you everywhere, but please, keep eating well and get better."

The girl studied her face for a while, then gave her a pout but accepted the food. She ate slowly and in small portions, an empty stare in her eyes.

That was good, Helga thought, that was great. She begged the gods for another child and they gave her one, a beautiful girl that she had already fallen in love with and would do everything in her power to protect.

Not long after, the door swung open and Ivar came into their room, dragging himself until he was inside and on his usual spot like that was his second home, which has been since the day his mother brought him there.

"Hello, Floki. Hello Helga." Ivar greeted them.

"Ivar." Floki greeted him back, spotting right away the faux innocent smile the young prince had whenever he was up to be a pain in someone’s ass.

Ivar turned his attention to the girl, who was eating and either uncaring or ignoring his presence.

"Revna." He said her name with a slight pitch to his voice and squinting at her. He had her name memorized from the odd fit it made for her, but mainly it was for the fact she slapped his hand. No one in their right mind would dare to do it, and no one that ever as much as said something wrong to Ivar got to live much longer, let alone someone stupid enough to try their luck against him, those he took delight in dealing with. Though to Revna, he probably was just a harmless cripple. Ignorance is bliss, he thought.

Revna, apparently taken back from her thoughts, looked at him. Her dark eyes gazing upon him with a spark of curiosity and interest. She had memorized his face after his first visit, how could she not? The complete stranger with very blue eyes, pale skin and a fingertips rough and calloused like the ones found on peasants, slaves or warriors. This complete stranger that touched her like it was normal or acceptable, the nerve!

The voice in her mind screamed: ‘Was it normal to him?’, “Is this normal these strange people I’m living with?’, ‘Was that how he acted around outsiders?’, ‘What am I even doing here?’, ‘What will they do to me?’ Questions, questions, they came and went in circles for all these days.

But she put a stop to them for now, like it or not, for good or ill, he was the only other sight she had other than the couple, she could indulge in a quick distraction from the walls of the home she was living in that were starting to feel smaller by each day.

"Ivar." She said, looking straight at him, trying to pronounce what she inferred to be his name as best as she could. Adding a pitch to her pronunciation, just like he did, just because she could.

His eyes widened and he tilted his head to the side, stare fixed on her and her every minimal movement. He was sincerely surprised that she actually spoke directly at him.

His name on her lips was carried by a foreign accent, it sounded different, almost like it belonged to someone else, but her gaze on him, with expectancy in her eyes and a hint of pride on the corners of her lips turned slightly upward left no doubt she indeed meant him.

Ivar heard her before, annoyed and agitated at his first visit, so he hoped to have the same effect, but now that she spoke camly, trying to pronounce his name correctly and seemingly proud of herself for it, she threw him off balance. He had expected the annoyance she had from before, he expected her disgust at him as she wasn't pleased with his touch, why would she want the hands of a cripple on her? He even expected fear from her, but he didn't expect to hear his name slow and soft on her lips, he didn’t expect to hear her trying to reach out for him and how his own name would sound so foreign coming from her lips.

He wanted her to say it again, wanted to hear the strange way his name sounded from her, but he didn’t know how to demand it, so he nodded at her, not really knowing what to say, not that it would matter. She probably wouldn’t understand him anyway.

Revna smiled proudly to herself, a beautiful smile, if he had to say anything, he mimicked her smile shyly, though he quickly felt self conscious under her gaze and looked away, trying to find somewhere other than her eyes to look at, but nothing seemed to quite hold his attention.

Ivar felt as Revna looked away from him and continued to eat, he glanced a few times at her, the shy smile he held gone as she paid him no further attention. He noticed, however, how her legs began shaking in a slow, lazy rhythm. A stream of thoughts began in his mind: ‘Is she playing with me?’, ‘Is she bothered by my presence?’, ‘Does she pity me?’, a frown forming on his face with each thought.

He turned his attention to Helga, who was distracted with the girl's hair:

"I haven't seen her around yet. Why? When are you going to show her off?” he made a pause before adding the last part venomously “Unless she is to be a house slave."

"She's no slave, Ivar. We're adopting her." Helga corrected him, a tad annoyed at the slave mention.

"Then why haven't I seen her outside, hm? If she's to live here as a free woman, then she needs to know her way around."

"It's too soon yet. She doesn't speak our language."

"It’s not too soon, it’s been weeks! And if all the problem is that she doesn’t speak our language, then it’s another reason to do it. She'll learn much faster by experience."

"I'll take her out when she's ready." Helga answered a bit tense. She didn't want to go into detail of why she was so careful but she also didn’t want to lie to Ivar, who by the frown seemed to be growing angry.

"She seems ready enough." He said pointing to her legs.

Revna stopped shaking her legs, staring at Ivar wide eyed and lips slightly parted as she just took the spoon from her mouth. She arched an eyebrow looking lost as a puppy in the forest. Good, Ivar thought. Revna then looked confused from him to Helga, who caressed her face reassuringly.

"So, why don't you take her outside?" Ivar insisted.

Helga couldn't find an answer to stop Ivar's questioning and looked to her husband for help. Floki seemed entertained, holding a smile of his own, but as soon as he felt his wife’s eyes on him and her silent plea he intervened.

"Since when do you care about things that don't involve you?" Asked Floki.

"What?" Ivar countered astonished, "What do you mean by it? Of course it involves me. I was in this home before her, I have a say in whether she can stay or not."

"Is that so?” Floki said amused, “In this case what your mighty self has to say?"

Without missing a beat and with a self assured tone that didn’t transpired his shyness just a moment ago, he answered:

"I say this girl better adapt to our ways else she brings the wrath of the gods down on us..."

"The gods love her, Ivar. They gave her to me." Helga interrupted him. She realized the mistake as soon as the words left her mouth.

"How can you be so sure?" He inquired, renewed curiosity in his eyes.

"I just know it."

"If you say..." he eyed her suspiciously, before continuing to Floki, "...I say she better learn manners. No one should dare to hit a prince and go off unscathed."

Floki chuckled from his spot then said:

"You deserved that one. You could have used some other way of introducing yourself rather than touching someone you’ve never seen before and is not here as a slave. However, I thank the gods for letting me witness your face that day."

"You old fool..."

"Ivar. Be patient with her." Helga said to Ivar softly. She was very aware of how badly he took insults, even when none existed.

"I am patient,” he countered, “but the girl needs manners."

"Ivar..." Called Floki.

Ivar sighed before continuing:

"However, I am willing to forgive her for you,” he said looking at Helga “and an apology from the girl, once she learns how to speak our language, of course."

"Ivar, she's just a child, give her some time, I'm sure she'll adapt." Said Helga, looking at Ivar while she tied the end of one of the braids on Revna's hair.

Ivar lived with them long enough to see she truly wanted that girl to be part of their lives. He had seen the glimpses of sadness throughout his upbringing, the lost gaze Helga had when she thought no one was looking, the unsettling feeling that lurked under the surface when she saw mothers with their newborn babies. Perhaps the surprise wasn't that she took a girl to raise, but that she took that long to do it.

But he loathed the idea that in Floki’s home would live someone that would regard him in the same way the rest of Kattegat did, an outsider to add insult to injury.

"If you say, I'll try to tolerate her. If at least she can pretend to not be annoyed whenever I’m here.” Ivar said as he pointed to Revna.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what about her shaking her legs was irritating him. If it was the repetitive pattern, the slow rhythm, the proximity of her feet to him, or what was to him, a clear display of her displeasure with his presence. Though why would she have smiled at him with that beautiful smile if she was annoyed by him?

‘She’s playing you’, His own mind answered the question.

Both Helga and Floki looked to each other confused as to what he meant, Floki being the one that asked:

"What do you mean by that? She doesn’t even know who you are to be annoyed at you."

He pointed to Revna’s legs, this time the girl didn’t even bother to look at him and continued eating as if there wasn’t an annoyed young man pointing at her for no reason at all. Which bothered Ivar even more.

Floki couldn’t help but laugh. It was like he was a naughty child again that got all pouty and angry until he got things his way. At least he didn’t scream anymore. Not as frequently at least. His boy was maturing.

"She's bored, Ivar. Been like that for a few days, it has nothing to do with you." Floki made a point to emphasize the last part.

Ivar stared at Floki speechless. His eyes open wide, darting from Floki to the surroundings as his lips parted, which pretty much told the boatbuilder that the young prince hadn’t considered a possibility that didn’t involve him. He then rolled his head before asking:

"Then what have you been doing with her all this time?"

"We’ve been taking care of her, Ivar. Teaching and getting her used to us before she faces the others." Answered Helga.

Ivar pondered her words for a while, then agreed with her.

"What does she do in her spare time?"

Floki was quick to answer that one:

"Snoops around the house, messes up my tools… Oh, she also has a fondness for magic tricks, they make her happy like a child."

"Really?”

“Yes. I’ve done a few for her and it never fails to get her attention.”

“That’s childish.”

“She is a child, Ivar. It’s no surprise at all.”

Ivar looked like he just realized what Floki said to him. Turning his attention back to Revna as she looked around the house with that same little pout on her lips. He had of course noticed she was young when he first saw her and when he touched her face. Younger than him, in fact. Skin too soft and face still with some roundess to it, but he didn’t stop to consider what that would mean. Of course she would be like that being so young and housebound, he knew the feeling all too well from the days and days and more days he had to be inside his home because he was too sick to go out without serious risk of breaking his bones.

Looking to Helga, who hadn’t got her hands away from Revna, he knew that was her doing. ‘Why won’t she let the girl out? She’s not crippled.’ was what he thought. He knew it was her because she had the same look his mother had when she would smother him with her love as if he was still a baby and not let him do anything food himself, which only got worse when his eyes would turn blue. He loved his mother more than anyone and anything else, but he hated feeling useless.

Maybe that was what Revna felt. He was strangely relieved to not be the reason for her annoyance. At least not this time.

Then a silly idea crossed his mind. He reached for a pouch of leather he carried and took a coin from it, he then got a bit closer to Revna and touched her foot. The girl gasped startled but relaxed when she looked down at Ivar, who expectantly tried to measure her reactions to him. She tilted her head and arched her eyebrow inquisitively at him, which coupled with the cute pout on her lips made for an adorable sight. He beckoned her to come closer to him.

“Go on, my dear.” Said Helga to Revna as she looked to Helga for permission.

Revna got off of the chair and sat on the floor close to Ivar, close enough to be within arm’s reach, but not close enough to accidentally brush her legs against his, she then rested her hands on her lap and looked at him with curiosity. He studied her expression carefully, searching for the all too familiar signs of pity and disgust but found none of those. Even though he noticed she kept a distance, he was pleased she sat near him.

He then showed her the coin, playing with it between his fingers deftly, she giggled, trying to follow the coin with her eyes and relaxing a bit from her position. He then halted his movements, holding the coin between his index and middle finger, Revna froze in her position as soon as he stopped and looked from the coin to his very blue eyes. There it was, that beautiful smile together with an innocent shine in her eyes.

He then put the coin flat against the palm of his hand, closing both of them into fists and bringing them close to his lips, he didn’t take his eyes off her, enjoying her full attention as she looked from his fists to his eyes. He blew air against his fists and slowly opened them, showing her the palms of his hands, the coin nowhere she could see.

Revna looked at him, giggling happily with a wide smile, a smile Ivar found to be quite beautiful and contagious, making him smile himself, although more reservedly. When she calmed down and silence fell between them, they were looking at each other’s eyes, hers filled with joy and his with pride for being the reason for it.

He soon felt self conscious again and looked away.

#ivar x reader #ivar ragnarsson x reader #vikings fanfiction #ivar x oc

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edelegs · 3 years

Text

Reading Way Too Much Into Petra’s Language

So basically I study second language acquisition and I have been meaning to do a deep dive into Petra’s language use from the moment I first read her dialogue. (On a slightly unrelated note, the Black Eagles house really is just targeted content for queer linguistics grad students). I’d intended for this to be some grand project where I take Petra’s speech patterns and classify them according to theories in second language acquisition (SLA) - but that involves explaining too much Fire Emblem lore to Serious Linguists, so instead I’m going to use my class notes to analyze Petra’s speech patterns and explain why I feel she is a good representation of how narratives should treat non-native speakers of the majority language. (sources will be fast and loose, I’m sorry professors)

I first want to mention the idea of “native speakerism”, particularly the fact that its use as a measure of proficiency and/or an expected standard of language use is flawed. Today, there are more non-native speakers of English than native speakers as a result of globalization, native speakers do not use language perfectly, and not all varieties of English are viewed equally (e.g. “native English speaker” never seems to refer to Indian English or AAVE). Much of today’s literature on SLA advocates for a focus on successful communication rather than native-like competency. From this perspective, Petra has achieved this goal: she seems to have no problem communicating with her peers outside of some trouble with idioms. Her peers always understand what she is saying, regardless of misconjugated verbs or odd phrasing. However, it is clear that Petra holds herself to these native-speaker standards. She is also the only non-native speaker of Fódlandish to be portrayed as a language learner. Despite this, I will try to avoid describing her language according to this standard.

Of the non-Fódlan nations in the game, only Brigid, Duscur, and Dagda speak a different language than Fòdlanish. (I don’t recall anything about Almyra’s native language, because I’m 99% sure Claude didn’t mention it). Dedue in particular gives the audience a concrete timeline for his language acquisition - in a support with Dimitri, he mentions that he didn’t use honourifics for him in the past because he was still learning Fòdlandish. This puts him in a Fòdlandish-speaking environment from a young age. Shamir references speaking Dadgan in her A support with Byleth, but there’s no mention of how long she had been learning the language. Her background as a mercenary would be a logical justification for her strong proficiency (training one’s accent away is rare and often not feasible, but I sincerely believe the writers did not put this much thought into that).

This means that language in the game only seems to matter for Petra’s character. Her background as a political pawn serves as her motivation. Petra is sent to the Empire five years before the events of the story as leverage against a Brigidian uprising. In their C-support, Hubert mentions that Petra could barely use the language when they met. This suggests that Petra has interacted with Adrestian nobility prior to attending Garegg Mach. At school, her environment is still largely made up of members of the nobility, especially as a member of the Black Eagles. (Not all noble speech is created equally, however. Put a pin in that).

There are three notable features of Petra’s English: over-reliance and misuse of verbs “to be” and “to have”, an overgeneralization of the suffix -ness, and contraction avoidance. In general, Petra uses “have” to describe states of being: “I have gratitude”, “I have sorrow”, “he has much concentration”. This pattern reminds me of the French auxiliary verbs “être” and “avoir”, which leads me to believe that Petra is experiencing transfer from her first language. An English learner of French might say “je suis 24 ans” (I am 24 years) instead of the accepted form “j’ai 24 ans” (I have 24 years). Petra is likely making a similar mistake. From this, I suggest that Brigidian might use an equivalent form of “have” for states of being (or uses the same verb for “to be” and “to have”). What is strange is that this pattern does not significantly change in her A-supports with the others. She does make more use of “to be”, though it remains largely unconjugated (e.g. “we will be winning”, “I will be sharing my heart with all of you”, “I want to be smoking the meat, so that we can be preserving it”).

There is an order for the development of English morpheme accuracy (Pienenmann’s Processability Theory, 1989). -ing is typically acquired first, which is seen in Petra’s language. It is followed by plural -s, then -be, when to use “a” versus “the”, irregular past, regular past -ed, third person -s, and possessive ‘s. Petra does not seem to follow this pattern exactly. She does not typically misuse articles (a/the), but her use of be is still largely unconjugated. She also uses the past perfect form more often than the simple past (from Hubert/Petra C: ”I had more youth then”, “I have learned much . . .” “and meeting you and Lady Edelgard has had great value for me”). There are instances when she does use the simple past (Caspar/Petra: “you are not the one who did the killing”, “our parents had conflict”) but this use is inconsistent. This blatantly contradicts Anderson and Shirai’s (1996) Aspect Hypothesis, which states that simple past is acquired much earlier on than past perfect. Similarly, Petra’s overuse of -ness is likely a similar developmental issue (though I cannot find a developmental hierarchy outlining this).

One explanation for this (aside from “I am reading way more into this than the writers/translators did”) lies in Petra’s social networks. Since coming to Fòdlan, Petra has largely been surrounded by nobles. The use of past perfect, as well as contraction avoidance, might’ve been influenced by the noble’s speech patterns. A side effect of transcribing literally every line of Petra dialogue for the bigger-scale project I’d initially planned was noticing which Black Eagles use contractions and which don’t. Those who are concerned with maintaining their image - Edelgard, Hubert, and Ferdinand - either do not use contractions or use them much less than the others. Linhardt, Bernadetta, and Caspar all don’t care about how others perceive them, and as a result their speech is much more casual. Petra is a highly conscious learner who likely aspires to achieve the speech of the former group. As the future Queen of Brigid, she aims to be perceived as Edelgard’s equal and bring more respect and dignity for her nation. One way for her to do this is through language. Petra perceives herself as lacking proficiency and is embarrassed by her grasp on the language. She is a perfectionist in everything she does and this extends to language. In her supports with Byleth, she corrects herself often. One of her advice box questions expresses frustration about her lack of progress with speaking. She is proud of herself when she uses an expression correctly (e.g. [smiling] “I have had practicing of that phrase”). The realism of her tense acquisition aside, Petra’s aspirations lead her to model her speech after that of her distinguished peers.

Should Petra’s language have been written to more closely mirror real-world English acquisition patterns? Considering that I doubt this question has crossed other players’ minds, this is largely unnecessary. What should be asked is this: how is Petra treated by the narrative as a second language speaker? The answer is: surprisingly well! Though there are times when her misunderstanding of common expressions is used for humour, nobody treats Petra as if she’s lesser for being Brigidian or a non-native speaker. In fact, the person who’s hardest on Petra’s language is Petra herself. There are no incidences (at least within the Black Eagles) where others perceive her as less intelligent or less worthy of respect. It could be easy to read her character as “quirky foreigner”, but that dismisses the fact that her peers do not see her this way. This game is far from perfect at portraying differences in race/nationality (looking at you, Dedue), but Petra Macneary--hunter, friend, and badass queen--is a pleasant surprise.

#long post #and i mean loooooong post #petra macneary #fe3h #black eagles #fr i imagined this as some deep detailed essay with proper APA citations #but i procrastinated too long and overwhelmed myself #so it exists but like this #meta #character analysis #fire emblem three houses #i transcribed every line of Petra dialogue for this

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leo-interactive-fiction · 3 years

Note

Something else I haven't seen before. What would the MC's parent from each background think of the ROs? Who would they approve of and who wouldn't they? I guess in the case of orphan MC, what would E's parents think? Since they kinda maybe vaguely adopted orphan MC?

Hmm, interesting! Since I did the opposite, I should have seen this one coming haha

-----------------------

Storm's comments:

E: "Rose has had that expectation for some time. This is preferable to the alternative. I know you will be in good hands. Rose raised them well."

R: Your father doesn't mince his words, a clear disdain evident, "Valleford. See that you don't take after your father, or there will be less than pleasantries next time we meet."

L: "Scio. I assume your father...?" Storm's lips pull in a small frown as L gives a small nod of confirmation, "I understand if you cannot forgive me. Your father is a significant asset to the Hospian war effort. If I find him, I will kill him."

V: "You've seen enough at your age," Storm says quietly, looking into the hollow glint in V's eyes, "I'm sorry. Those were battles that should have ended with my generation, not yours."

P: Storm's brow furrows as he makes a cordial greeting, "I assume your father is well? He does not speak of his second child often, but you seem more spirited than the other. That will make the greater difference when it matters."

M: Storm's brow furrows as he makes a cordial greeting, though there's little sentimentality in his voice, "I assume your father is well? He expresses confidence in your upbringing, but I can't say I share the sentiment. You lack something fundamental. Something to drive you to achieve more than what's expected of you."

Ra: Storm's eyes lock onto Raven with a harsh intensity, "Your eyes are filled with blood and you conceal weapons. Tell me your intentions or I will kill you right now."

S: "I admit I am unfamiliar with Orden. The conflict never reached that country, but I understand there are many hardships there already," Storm says, looking the brightly grinning student up and down before his lips pull back in small contentment, "You come out better than most. You have impressive strength."

F: Storm holds a frown as he takes in the vivid green hair, "Many allowed Frenza to claim their distance due to their significant contribution to Triaina's independence, but it doesn't absolve you of everything," he says in warning, "Don't step over the boundaries you've been afforded, or the military will have no choice but to respond."

------------------------------

Scurra's dialogue:

E: Scurra makes a grimace as he recognizes E, "Damnit, you've gone and done it now," he grumbles as he pulls out his wallet and hands a fold of bills to E, "Give that to your mom, will you? She's worse than a debt collector with bets..."

R: "Valleford! There's a name I haven't heard in a while. I knew they had a black sheep in the family, but I guess they couldn't take away the infamous good looks," Scurra chuckles, his eyes lightening reminiscently, "They've put me in a good bit of trouble on more than one occasion. I guess I should consider it a family curse now that MC is involved with you."

L: "Oh, I know those eyes," Scurra says wistfully, "Coming to find the world is a bigger place than you imagined, aren't you? It's even more expansive than that, too. I had that same look when I traveled overseas. I hope MC is being a good guide for you," he looks to you, and gives a knowing wink.

V: Scurra gives a meandering hum as he looks at V, "I've been all around, but I've only seen natural hair color like that a handful of times. They all had your same stare, too." He closes his eyes thoughtfully, "None as young as you though. I hope you're the last I have to see with those eyes. They're a bad omen."

P: "A fiery one, aren't you! Has no one ever told you not to say bad words in public?" Scurra laughs, "You should stop while you can. You're so transparent with your feelings that I almost mistook you for a window, so there's no point to pulling a tough act."

M: A small, genuine smile rises on Scurra's lips as he inspects M, "How interesting. You're so similar to your twin, but you're definitely the better actor. As I think about it, you remind me of MC's mother in many ways..."

Ra: "What are you doing here?" Scurra frowns, staring harshly at Raven. A silence passes and eventually he looks away, messaging his jaw, "Oops, guess I was mistaken. You looked a little like someone I know."

S: "You've got Orden written all over you, don't you?" Scurra says cheerily, "It's been a while since I've visited, but I have to say it gave me the most enjoyment. You all certainly know how to keep it lively."

F: "Your family has always been so hauty!" Scurra covers his mouth to suppress a chuckle, "But I think it would be a mistake to talk down to everyone you meet. I happen to be on great terms with your mother. If I took the opportunity, you two would have been siblings!"

------------------------

Xero's insight:

E: He smiles warmly to E, "It's good to see you again. I'm afraid there was little I could do for you: your mother has already found out about your relationship. I expect she'll make it as embarrassing for you as possible, if I know her well. I hope you're mentally prepared."

R: Xero studies R with a faint curiosity, "I'm afraid your father and I are on less than speaking terms due to some...past difficulties, but I understand you are more than simply your father's child. You may be villianized for your differing viewpoint, but aren't we all? I don't find it is so bad," Xero gives R a knowing small."

L: Xero's eyes widen upon seeing L, then falls into a soft smile, "To think history would repeat so aptly. To see you two now reminds me of my own school days," Xero closes his eyes and releases a light sigh, the smile still present, "I pray you'll also find the same happiness I did, and that it lasts longer."

V: Xero's grip tightens on an file in his hands as he sees V, his voice meticulous, "You are...Wolfe, correct? I'll admit the what I've heard and read of you is...less than appealing, but," he casts his gaze between you and the ex-Jagd member, a faint smile growing on his lips as V steps cautiously between you. "You seem to have a strong sense of duty. I hope you will be a good pillar for MC."

P: He looks disaprovingly, "In my field, words are paired with intention. To speak is to lay bare your thoughts. Why would you neglect your intent by forcing a negative connotation where it doesn't belong?"

M: He seems slightly more on edge than with P, "I don't believe I should offer my approval to someone unwilling to determine a focus. It's a testament to your negligence."

Ra: Xero crosses their arms, his face skeptical,"Marriage? Your lack of detailed forethought and hyperfixation gives me the impression of an unhealthy mind. As it stands now, I will refuse to give you my blessing."

S: "I'm afraid I'm ignorant to everything Orden related," Xero says sheepishly, "I am happy to learn all that I can, though. Perhaps you would like to bring your family at some point? I would be happy to host them here." Xero smiles warmly, clearly unknowing of the chaotic rabblerousing he's invited into his home.

F: "Ah, the royal line," Xero says in recognition of F, "Your own mother was a classmate of mine as well. To think one of her children would grow so closely with mine. Please give her my regards, would you? She has always kept herself closer than others, so I was happy when she took an interest in my friend. He's a lucky man."

---------------------

Mr. Razor's thoughts (if he was alive)

E: He bows his head gratefully, "Thank you for taking care of MC all this time. Your selflessness has saved me a lot of worry, and I doubt I'll have any more leaving them in your hands."

R: Razor's eyes bore a hole through R, "To defy your father was a considerable risk. And not knowing what the academy had planned for you, you still allowed yourself to be incarcerated for an indeterminate amount of time," Razor taps his fingers to his chin, a smile spreading over his lips, "I enjoy those that stick to their principles, but what say we work on your jailbreaking?"

L: "Your father's quite an important man. He's lucky I was never contracted to kill him," Razor says matter-of-factly. A chilling air of silence deafens the room until Razor holds up his palms, "Just kidding. I've never killed anyone. They all died mysteriously."

V: "How's Jagd doing?" Razor narrows his eyes keenly on V, "I'm surprised they were able to bounce back after what I did to them. I guess they filled the empty spaces with whoever was able...or moldable."

P: Razor smiles sadly, "It must be difficult to be given another person's expectations and do well with them. You're like a fish trying to climb a tree. But I enjoy how far up you've climbed despite that. Would you like a reward? I know, how about...your father's weakness?"

M: Razor seems disinterested, "You're not worth the words, Crater. You're nothing more than what your father made you to be: a simple shadow to live vicariously through."

Ra: Razor's eyes have an approving glint, "The one that slipped through the cracks. How very odd. MC's mother was quite odd too. It's an endearing quality, isn't it? Yes, I think you'll make a perfect companion for MC. You've already been looking over them all this time, haven't you?"

S: "Earnestness is one of the first qualities people tend to throw away when faced with hardship. It is impressive to see how you've progressed through your poverty and discrimination so aptly. Perhaps you have a hope that things will get better?" Razor's mouth spreads in a wicked smile, "I do enjoy seeing how people struggle for such a small glimmer of light. I think I'll offer my aid."

F: "Ah, it's always cute to see people play at royalty," Razor smiles at F's exasperated face, "Why do you seem so angry? Do you actually believe your position has meaning? I'll assure you it doesn't," Razor casts a darkening stare towards the royal, "To me, you're no harder to kill than a beggar on the street. The power you attempt to flaunt means nothing, because in the end it does nothing to elevate you beyond a simple street urchin."

----------------------

End

Thank ya for the ask!

#romance options #triaina academy #parents #mc background

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Text

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 9 - ao3 -

Lan Qiren was groggy with lack of sleep the next morning, but an evening’s contemplation of the Lan sect’s rules had put him back into the right mindset.

As a disciple of the Lan sect, he was entitled under the rules for his elders to remember do not disrespect your juniors just as he was required to respect and obey your elders. Pursuant to the rules, he should have the protection of his sect and their support, and if what he had was imperfect, it was at least something; for every Lan Ganhui that mocked him, there was a Lan Yueheng that encouraged him, and there were plenty of teachers that preferred him over all the others.

As for his brother – Lan Qiren should not hold his anger against him. He had been acting in the best interest of the sect, seeking to obtain benefits for what had been lost; he had thought throughout the trip that Lan Qiren had given up more than just his word of honor, but had refrained from punishing him accordingly. In the end, even his father had assigned him only to kneel, which was a milder punishment by far than he deserved for all his mistakes and insolence.

More than that, his brother was right: Wen Ruohan would be bound by his own word of honor and public reputation to treat Lan Qiren with dignity, and by endorsing the relationship rather than rejecting it, his sect was indicating that they would hold Wen Ruohan to his word. His father had appropriately expressed concern on Lan Qiren’s behalf, his brother had refuted those concerns with well-reasoned logic; it was inappropriate for Lan Qiren to take such an intellectual discussion to heart.

That he had – and that he had forgotten, even temporarily and in the privacy of his own head, the rule do not argue with family for it does not matter who wins – was merely evidence once again that Lan Qiren was inferior to his brother, who through keeping a cool head had enabled their sect to turn what could have been an embarrassment into a victory.

As for his father…Lan Qiren shouldn’t have been surprised, that’s all. Hadn’t years and years taught him that fathers only gave what they chose to give and no more? He had long ago learned that his father was kind and noble and equitable, concerned with all the Lan sect disciples (but for his dearly beloved eldest) in the same way and the same manner; being disappointed to receive that and nothing more was only his own foolishness.

(He only wondered, in passing, why it had been his father’s glacial voice that had scared him so, compared to the familiar warmth of his brother’s anger.)

So fortified and reassured, Lan Qiren returned to the regular flow of daily life at the Cloud Recesses.

It was not easy. As his brother had predicted, rumors about his sworn brotherhood with Wen Ruohan sprang up at once, and many of his fellow disciples were prone to staring at him when they thought he wouldn’t notice. The teachers handed out many punishments for breaking the prohibition about talking behind people’s backs, although with a certain leniency that made Lan Qiren suspect that they themselves toed the line of that particular rule behind closed doors.

The rumors themselves were split between those that theorized that Wen Ruohan had used nefarious means to entrap Lan Qiren and force him to agree to brotherhood – the Fire Palace was mentioned often, as were various theoretical misapplications of cultivation techniques of dark and unsavory natures – and those that skipped over the how of brotherhood and went straight to speculating as to the why, which typically also involved a variety of references to misapplied cultivation techniques, this time of the sort most often found exclusively in certain types of low-brow spring books.

Someone even suggested that Wen Ruohan intended on taking Lan Qiren to bed as a cauldron, which was the stupidest idea out of the whole lot.

“Of course that can’t be true,” Lan Qiren patiently explained to Lan Yueheng, who had come to collect his geometry book. As a gesture of thanks for his support, Lan Qiren had read the whole thing and sent an annotated list of questions and comments; Lan Yueheng had practically turned pink with excitement when he’d seen it and then secluded himself for two days to write a response. Lan Qiren still didn’t see the appeal of geometry, but he’d managed to coax Lan Yueheng into a discussion of the mathematics of music theory, an area in which their particular interests overlapped, and he had hope of a fruitful dialogue continuing into the future. “At least traditionally, cauldrons are individuals with high cultivation potential that has yet to be developed – raw natural talent, in other words, which can then be refined into strength for another. My inborn talent is only moderate, even low, and my progress is primarily due to good resources and hard work. So even if someone put in the work to make me a cauldron, they wouldn’t get much out of me.”

Lan Yueheng nodded, his brow wrinkled thoughtfully. “So your brother would’ve been a better cauldron than you.”

“…that is correct, but please don’t say it.” Lan Qiren quietly pitied Lan Yueheng’s etiquette teachers, and spared a thought to hope that his cousin’s children, should he have them, would take more after whoever he married than him. Even if only because Lan Qiren hoped to become a teacher himself one day, and he was sure that Lan Yueheng’s particularly brash and un-Lan-like bluntness would make for a terrible future student. “Perhaps it would be more helpful for you to think of it in the sense of energy transfers of heat? I’m already cold, so to speak, so he wouldn’t be able to draw out much heat from me.”

“Wait, if you’re cold and Sect Leader Wen is hot, would that make him the cauldron? Assuming you ever did dual cultivate.”

Lan Qiren pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s...not how that works, Yueheng-xiong. At all. I was merely attempting to use a metaphor to clarify the issue. Clearly I failed and only confused things further.”

Lan Yueheng shrugged. “At least you try,” he remarked. “And when you fail, you try again, doing something different. It’s better than the teachers who just do the same thing every time and blame you for being as bemused on the seventh repetition as you were on the first.”

Lan Qiren felt his ears go red at the compliment. “You’ve been here too long,” he reminded his cousin. “Your parents won’t be happy to see you spending too much time with me.”

“My parents don’t care. It’s my aunt and uncle who don’t like it. They say that people might start asking if I cultivate as a cauldron too –”

“Your parents listen to your aunt and uncle, so if they don’t like it, you shouldn’t disobey them. The rules say Be a filial child.”

“They also say Do not form cliques to exclude others, but that isn’t stopping the other disciples from playing favorites, is it?”

That was definitely one of the rules more honored in the breach, Lan Qiren thought with a sigh. But what could be done, when their elders did the same? The sect followed the example of its leader, and his father’s tendency towards favoritism were well known, albeit one that was widely indulged as a quirk rather than condemned as a serious flaw.

“I will remind the teachers of that one,” he said. “Perhaps a refresher would be suitable, to remind people. But the rule are meant for your own discipline, not others, and – ”

“Just because other people aren’t following the rules doesn’t mean I shouldn’t, I know,” Lan Yueheng said with a sigh of his own. “I’ll go…oh! It’s getting late. Weren’t you supposed to go to the guest’s pavilion by the western watchtower already?”

Lan Qiren blinked. “I don’t have that patrol route in my schedule until the end of the week.”

“No, no! I was supposed to tell you! Lao Nie’s come to visit, and –”

There were rules against running in the Cloud Recesses, so Lan Qiren was slightly late despite his best efforts, but true to form Lao Nie didn’t admonish him: he only turned from where he was sitting in the pavilion and smiled, calling out, “Qiren! There you are!”

“Forgive –”

“Forgiven,” Lao Nie interrupted before Lan Qiren even got the first word out. Lan Qiren was relieved to see that there was neither food nor tea already prepared; he would have been mortified if it had grown cold while Lao Nie was waiting to see him. “And don’t bow, either. How have you been? Tell me people aren’t harassing you over the nonsense with Hanhan.”

Lan Qiren opened his mouth, then hesitated.

“Do not tell lies,” Lao Nie observed, grimacing. “Ah, Qiren! Sometimes your brother’s worse than useless. It’s a pity, really, I hadn’t realized – well. At any rate, I’ve been bothering him for weeks to tell me about you and he wouldn’t say a word.”

“He was angry at me for messing up the conference,” Lan Qiren explained.

Lao Nie’s eyebrows arched. “You mean the conference where the Lan sect got first place in both major events and then extracted serious concessions from the Wen sect in a completely unexpected and nearly inexplicable political coup that got the whole cultivation world talking in awe at your political acumen? That conference?”

“I lost face for him. He thought – well, he’d thought it was worse than it was,” Lan Qiren hesitated. “He’s not the only one.”

Lao Nie huffed. “People are, by and large, stupid,” he declared. “Don’t let them get to you. They’ll change their tune soon enough.”

Lan Qiren wasn’t so sure. “They say a reputation is like a porcelain vase,” he said, unable to conceal his worries in the face of someone actually expressing concern rather than curiosity. His dream was to be a traveling cultivator, and that would be much easier with a good name, which he had always had before – good, or at least boring, which was just fine with him. He preferred to be boring! It had never occurred to him that he might do something that would render him the subject of gossip; it had never happened before. “Once cracked…”

“Right now, there’s only some bored people speculating that there might be a crack,” Lao Nie said. His confidence was contagious; Lan Qiren couldn’t help but relax a little in the face of it. “No one’s actually sure about it, and they’re willing to hear otherwise – things aren’t yet so bad. Don’t worry. I’ve spoken with Hanhan about it already.”

Lan Qiren felt his ears burning in shame. “Lao Nie! You didn’t!”

Especially since that would undoubtedly only make Wen Ruohan even more angry…

Lao Nie laughed and put his hand on his head, rubbing it lightly. “I did. Not in your name, but rather his own – do you think the Wen sect wants to get a reputation for being led by a man with an unhealthy interest in noble-born children? It’s in his interest to get this cleared up as much as you.”

Lan Qiren felt the tension rush out of his shoulders all at once. That hadn’t occurred to him, but now that Lao Nie had pointed it out, it was clear enough.

After all, for all the talk going around about Lan Qiren, it was widely agreed that he was clearly the victim in whatever scenario they’d thought up, whether through having his oath extracted under torture or by force; even among those who theorized that Wen Ruohan intended to use him as a cauldron, the reputation Lan Qiren might get would be, at worst, that of a seductive flirt who couldn’t be resisted. Lan Qiren’s brother had scoffed audibly the first time he’d heard that, saying that such a rumor would naturally be dispelled the moment anyone came in contact with Lan Qiren for more than a moment, and in all honesty Lan Qiren agreed with his assessment. He had the classic Lan sect looks, yes, but so did many others, and he had a demeanor as stern as a schoolmaster, giving off the feel of an old man even though he wasn’t even of age.

Meanwhile, for Wen Ruohan, the consequences were undoubtedly more dire – if he was said to have a taste for boys, especially noble-born ones, the other sects might be afraid to send their sons around him. It was a different reputation by far than his taste for torture, or his supposed use of dark and forbidden cultivation; those would make people fear him, while lusting for children would only make people disdain him.

Still, Lan Qiren wasn’t sure how exactly even someone of Wen Ruohan’s cunning would go about fixing such a mistake – and that was putting aside why he would make such a mistake over Lan Qiren in the first place. He hadn’t had a chance to explain to his brother his theory that Wen Ruohan had acted just to irritate Lao Nie, and in the end he’d decided it wasn’t worth drawing his brother’s attention back to the subject.

Besides, if Lan Qiren could figure it out, with his notorious inability to understand interpersonal affairs, then surely his brother was more than able to do the same. It wasn’t as if Lao Nie were being shy about it…

“Hanhan said he had something in mind,” Lao Nie was saying, shaking his head. “He usually does, I find, and each idea’s more awful than the next.”

Lan Qiren shifted a little from one foot to the other. “If you know he’s awful, why do you…” he hesitated. “I mean, you call him – an endearment.”

“Oh, he’s a little awful, no doubt,” Lao Nie said, sounding rather fond. “But as long as it’s not my sect, what do I care? Anyway, Qiren, you shouldn’t worry. If there’s one thing you can trust with Hanhan, it’s that he takes care of anything associated with himself.”

Lan Qiren didn’t really like the fact that he was now counted among that number.

It didn’t seem all that safe.

“Though of course that doesn’t protect him from you,” Lao Nie added, suddenly smirking, and Lan Qiren blinked owlishly at him. “Apparently, you’re a very talkative drunk.”

Lan Qiren’s face burned red.

“And effusive, too! According to Hanhan, even after you forced him down in his seat to keep listening to you, you kept waving your hands around while you were talking and knocking things over; he had to pin you down to keep you from destroying things by accident.”

That would explain the marks on his arms.

“Apparently, you didn’t appreciate him doing that and kneed him right in the –”

“You really think he can make the rumors go away?” Lan Qiren hastily interrupted, rubbing the back of his neck a little as if it would make the heat of hideous embarrassment go away. That tallied up a little too well with the physical evidence to be anything other than accurate. “There’s – a lot of them. And I’d like to have a clean reputation.”

“You will,” Lao Nie said, thankfully distracted from his mortifyingly plausible story. “Anyone who meets you will know at once that you’re a righteous and upstanding person.”

Lan Qiren liked that better than the way his brother had put it.

“It’s just that you haven’t had a chance to make your name in the cultivation world,” Lao Nie said. He sounded sure of himself. “You’ll do wonderful things one day, Qiren. I’ve no doubt.”

“I don’t want to do wonderful things,” Lan Qiren said, scowling. “I just want to travel around and help people.”

“Yes, I know,” Lao Nie said, and he sounded fond again, just the way he did when he was talking about Wen Ruohan, or even Lan Qiren’s brother. Truly, Lan Qiren thought to himself, the Nie sect had no idea how lucky they were to have him as sect leader. “Really, Qiren, it’s like I said: don’t worry about it. Now come, tell me what you’ve been studying recently.”

Lan Qiren had promised himself that he would reduce the amount of time he spent with Lao Nie on his occasional visits to the Lan sect, not wanting to risk inciting Wen Ruohan’s unreasonable anger and jealousy any further.

He would need to assign himself an appropriate punishment for breaking that promise, he thought, and sat down to start telling Lao Nie all about the work he was doing with one of his teachers on comparing the origin points of the various Lan sect rules, as well as his experiments on arrays to enhance open-air acoustics that would, he hoped, eventually be inscribed on all Lan sect instruments to increase the range and impact of their spell songs.

He even mentioned the possibility of a joint project on the mathematics of musical theory, and for whatever reason he thought Lao Nie looked especially pleased about that.

He didn’t think about Wen Ruohan at all.

#mdzs #lan qiren #sect leader nie #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #spilled pearls

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nothing-more-than-hot-leaf-juice · 4 years

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Hi fren! Been following ur blog for a while and honestly I love it! I was wondering if I can get ur thoughts on something :)) remember in sozins comet when Iroh refused to fight ozai becuz “history will see it as more violence, a brother killing a brother to gain power” but then cue to Azula and Zuko who are fighting for the throne and it’s fine?? with them?? doesn’t that count as more violence as well? Thank if you ever come across this :D

Okay, first off, I think it needs to be clarified what Iroh actually said in that scene in regards to sending Zuko to defeat Azula because the two situations are very different and everyone involved knew that. The exchange went as such:

Zuko: Uncle, you’re the only person other than the Avatar who can possibly defeat the fatherlord.... we need you to come with us.

Iroh: No Zuko, it won’t turn out well.

Zuko: You can beat him. And we’ll be there to help.

Iroh: Even if I did defeat Ozai, and I don’t know that I could, it would be the wrong way to end the war. History would see it as more senseless violence: a brother killing a brother to gain power. The only way for this war to end peacefully is if the Avatar defeats the Firelord.

(dialogue, etc.)

Iroh: Zuko, you must return to the Fire Nation, so that when the Firelord falls, you can assume the throne and restore peace and order. But Azula will be there waiting for you.

When I see the argument that Iroh sending Zuko after Azula was hypocritical, I think it ignores the reality of the situation and the pragmatic approach. Because Iroh was absolutely correct throughout this whole exchange. Here were the facts as of this point:

1. Iroh and Zuko were declared traitors and could not legally assume the throne once Ozai was defeated, meaning Azula would assume the throne by default.

2. By this point in the series, Azula had shown at every point that she was just as enthusiastic about waging war and had shown no remorse for the suffering of the Earth Kingdom at the hands of the Fire Nation. She was particularly enthusiastic about the two major affronts against the Earth Kingdom: conquering Ba Sing Se and using Sozin’s Comet to burn down the Earth Kingdom.

3. Azula was the one who had the idea for the ‘let’s use the comet to burn down the Earth Kingdom’ plan in the first place and was proud of that plan. If Ozai was defeated, she would have used her position to go through with the plan anyway.

Realistically, this situation is in no way ideal, but the reality is that Azula did need to be stopped from assuming the throne. Make no mistake, if she had the opportunity to do so, she would have been at Ozai’s side burning down the Earth Kingdom instead of staying in the Fire Nation. She was dangerous and needed to be stopped and that was evident from her actions throughout the entire series.

And the situations of Zuko defeating Azula and Iroh defeating Ozai are completely different, mainly because it was never Zuko or Iroh’s intention for Zuko to kill Azula like everyone else was planning with Ozai. The intent with Zuko going after Azula was to stop her from being crowned, which was a thing that needed to be stopped, otherwise, the war would have continued. And Iroh was absolutely correct in his assumptions: Zuko and Katara arrived in the Fire Nation just before Azula was crowned Firelord. And in the end, as we all know, they didn’t kill her, they just removed her as a threat so Zuko could assume the throne. There is a difference between taking out an actively harmful force in a position of absolute authority (Ozai) and stopping a harmful force from taking a position of absolute authority (Azula).

There’s also the facts that 1. Iroh had his own history as a general who held siege on Ba Sing Se for 600 days, allegedly committed war crimes, and wasn’t exactly well regarded in the Earth Kingdom. 2. Like he said, a fight between Iroh and Ozai was not one that had a clear victor. Iroh was not the right person to defeat Ozai, Aang was, for many reasons. (There’s also the fact that Iroh’s arc came full circle as he freed the city he once laid siege on, but that has less to do with the pragmatic rationale behind the match ups and more to do with thematic purposes.)

And this is a thing that also bothers me. There’s an argument that Iroh failed Azula and that part of the reason she was how she was fell on him and I don’t think that’s fair. And this post by @withyoutilltheendofthecredits articulates why:

the ideas “azula was a victim of abuse who was manipulated and hurt by ozai” and “azula had a hand in a lot of trauma for zuko due to her awful treatment of him” can and should coexist

I think it’s important to keep in mind whenever we talk about Iroh, Azula, and Zuko how their dynamic was in season 2. Firstly, Iroh’s priority through this show was to keep Zuko safe. In season 1, he wasn’t so much there to actively help Zuko find Aang (and on multiple occasions seemed to work against Zuko’s mission), but rather was there to stop Zuko from making stupid decisions that would get him killed while offering emotional support and training him to be a better firebender. Does he actually want Zuko to kidnap the Avatar and return to his awful, abusive father? No. But he does want Zuko to have something that gives him hope, something that keeps him going. And Iroh’s priority is to be there to make sure this kid doesn’t do anything too reckless.

In season 2, Zuko technically no longer has his mission as he’s deemed an enemy of the Fire Nation and Iroh more explicitly works to help his nephew mentally and emotionally extricate himself from the family members that hurt him. At the beginning of the season when Zuko is excited about going home after Azula lies to them, Iroh voices his suspicion because unlike Zuko, who’s still holding onto the idea that he can win his father’s love, Iroh is able to look at the situation objectively and knows that if Zuko goes home, he’s not going to be safe and he is not going to be met with any sort of love.

Zuko: Did you listen to Azula? Father’s realized how important family is. He cares about me.

Iroh: I care about you!

And through the rest of the season, Iroh tries his best to take advantage of their new freedom by showing Zuko that he does deserve control of his own life, happiness, and unconditional love. He’s trying his best to help him through this difficult time because part of Zuko’s emotional struggle in this is reconciling with the fact that no, his father doesn’t want him, at all. When he was banished, he had the ‘if I get the Avatar I can go home’ thing to cling onto, but Iroh and everyone else knew that Ozai never actually intended for Zuko to succeed or return. So Zuko has to deal with that in season 2 and doesn’t get to that point, he still tries to capture Aang and he still joins Azula in Crossroads of Destiny because he’s not ready to let that little bit of hope that he could return home go. It isn’t until he takes a stand against Ozai with the “it was cruel and it was wrong” speech that he really discovers who he is and what he wants and the main reason he’s able to come to that conclusion is because of Iroh’s treatment of him in season 2.

In season 2, Iroh not only protects Zuko from physical harm and takes care of him in regards to sickness, food, and water, but tries to drill into his head that he didn’t deserve the treatment from his father and shouldn’t throw his life away trying to please him. That he can have and deserves a peaceful life. And Zuko keeps going down the self destructive path because he’s been convinced for so long that him proving himself to his father is more important than his personal safety or happiness. Iroh just wants him to put himself before the man that abused him. He hates it that Zuko almost gets himself killed multiple times for the sake of Ozai. There’s their talk in The Avatar Day and their fight in Lake Laogai that bring this to the forefront:

Iroh: Even if you did capture the Avatar, I’m not so sure it would solve all our problems.

Zuko: Then there is no hope at all

Iroh: No Zuko, you must never give into despair.

Iroh: And then what?! You never think these things through. This is exactly what happened when you tried to capture the Avatar at the North Pole. You had him and then you had nowhere to go.

Zuko: I would have figured something out.

Iroh: No! If his friends hadn’t found you, you would have frozen to death!

Zuko: I know my own destiny.

Iroh: Is it your own destiny? Or is it a destiny someone else has tried to force on you?

And as Iroh acts as Zuko’s protector and tries to break him away from his self destructive mentality, how does Azula fit into that? Here are the interactions between Azula, Zuko, and Iroh in season 2:

Azula trying to take Zuko and Iroh as prisoners to the Fire Nation with no remorse

Azula attempting to shoot lightning at Zuko in the first episode of season 2 and Zuko only being saved by Iroh redirecting it at the last second

Azula shooting Iroh and seriously injuring him (it could have been lighting, but I think it was just fire)

Azula trying to capture Iroh and Zuko in Ba Sing Se and succeeding

Azula manipulating Zuko into going back to Ozai

Objectively, Azula is a threat against Zuko’s safety and there’s a good chance she would have killed him in the first episode of season 2 if Iroh hadn’t stopped her. He knows exactly how dangerous she is and made the decision that he was going to do what it took to keep Zuko safe, which he did. With this exchange in Bitter Work.

This isn’t Iroh saying ‘I have no sympathy for my niece whatsoever and am choosing to ignore her’. This is Iroh saying ‘Azula has proven herself to be an objective and real threat and I need to keep Zuko safe from her.’ And he was correct. I feel like this stance is reasonable when the last two times she saw them she tried to shoot Zuko with lightning and actually shot Iroh.

And the reality of the situation is that Iroh shouldn’t have had to be the one to raise Zuko or Azula. He wasn’t their parent and he shouldn’t have had to be responsible for them. Ideally, Ozai should have been the one to do that, but that wasn’t the reality of the situation. And Iroh was faced with a choice: go with Zuko who was banished, injured, and lost, or stay with Azula who was not in a good home with a good influence, but who was still the favored, prodigy princess. He had a choice of which kid to stand behind and I think it’s fair to say that Zuko needed Iroh more when he was banished.

Ideally, there shouldn’t have been a choice for Iroh. Ideally, Iroh shouldn’t have had to raise his nephew. Ideally, Azula should have had a better parental influence who didn’t encourage her violent streak. But it was by no means an ideal situation. Azula was dangerous and remorseless and Iroh was entirely correct when he saw her rising to power and realized ‘if she isn’t stopped now, there is no telling what she’s going to do’. Because he knows exactly who raised her.

#hot leaf meta #atla #avatar the last airbender #azula #iroh #zuko #tw: abuse #the babes are asking

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lavellander · 3 years

Text

hello im feeling extra “touch the stove”-y today so. i was looking for any dialogue where solas just straight up lies and (of what i could find online/transcribed, obv) i didnt find anything that was 100% untrue. he’ll completely avoid the question, change the subject, give part of the truth, etc etc etc, but nothing was just Entirely A Lie

what really gets me is that there’s a handful of convos where someone infers something from what solas says, and he will even point out that he didn’t directly say that. like, he tells people how to see through his shit, lmao

here is an embarrassingly long ass list of examples, all sorted by what kind of not-lying he’s doing lol, just bc i am unhinged<3

*note that some of these are cut from longer bits of dialogue or have been split up from one conversation into different categories*

literally just Not Answering The Question lol

Dorian: How much “will” do they have? They’re amorphous constructs of the Fade. Solas: Hmm.

Dorian: Solas, have I offended you? Solas: If you have, why would it concern you?

Dorian: Solas, what is this whole look of yours about? Solas: I’m sorry? Dorian: No, that outfit is sorry. What are you supposed to be, some kind of woodsman? Dorian: Is it a Dalish thing? Don’t you dislike the Dalish? Or is it some kind of statement? Solas: No.

Dorian: Let me get this straight, Solas. Dorian: You’re an apostate – neither Dalish nor city elf – who lived alone in the woods studying spirits. Solas: Is that a problem for you?

Solas: [has a whole tactical moment about the red jennies lmao] Sera: Where d’you get all this, then? Solas: Do you wish to be unnerved by another tale of my explorations of the Fade? Or do you wish to learn something?

Vivienne: You must be pleased with what was revealed at the Temple of Mythal, Solas. Solas: Why should those ruins please me, Enchanter?

changing the subject before he backs himself into a corner

Gatt: I don’t see any tattoos, but you’re carrying a staff. Are you from a Chantry Circle? Solas: No. And I would prefer not to discuss it.

Solas: I find the fall of the dwarven lands confusing. Varric: What’s so confusing about endless darkspawn? Solas: A great deal, although that is a different matter.

giving the truth, but not the whole truth

Blackwall: Skyhold. How did you find it? Solas: I looked. Blackwall: Now you sound like Cole. You looked? Solas: This world is full of wonders for those who seek them.

Blackwall: You spoke of seeing death and destruction. Did you fight in a war? Solas: There are struggles across Thedas at any given time. I doubt you would have heard of it. Blackwall: An elven skirmish? Solas: In a manner of speaking, yes.

Cassandra: Solas, have you always lived alone? Out in the wilderness, as an apostate? Solas: For the most part.

Cassandra: Have you ever encountered templars before? Solas: Only at a distance. I am an apostate, after all. Cassandra: And they never caught you even once? Solas: I am a very careful apostate.

Dorian: We found elves, living ancient elves, at the Temple of Mythal. Does that bother you, Solas? If Inquisitor allied with the Sentinels: Solas: I am pleased we were not forced to kill them, if that’s what you mean.

Iron Bull: You’ve got an odd style, Solas. Your spells are a bit different from the Circle mages or the Vints. Solas: That comes from being self-taught. Solas: I discovered most of my magic on my own, or learned it from my journeys in the Fade.

Vivienne: So, an apostate? Solas: That is correct, Enchanter. I did not train in your Circle.

Solas: You are a man who made a choice... possibly the first of your life. Iron Bull: I’ve always liked fighting. What if I turn savage, like the other Tal-Vashoth? Solas: You have the Inquisition, you have the Inquisitor... and you have me.

from cutscene at beginning Inquisitor: [mentions the anchor closing a rift] Solas: Whatever magic opened the Breach in the sky also placed that mark upon your hand. I theorized the mark might be able to close the rifts that have opened in the Breach's wake – and it seems I was correct.

from cutscene at beginning Solas: [to a Dalish Inq] You are Dalish, but clearly away from the rest of your clan. Did they send you here? Inquisitor: What do you know of the Dalish? Solas: I have wandered many roads in my time, and crossed paths with your people on more than one occasion. Inquisitor: [Crossed paths? dialogue choice] Solas: I mean that I offered to share knowledge, only to be attacked for no greater reason than their superstition.

from “I’d like to know more about you” convo in Haven Inquisitor: What made you start studying the Fade? Solas: I grew up in a village to the north. There was little to interest a young man, especially one gifted with magic. But as I slept, spirits of the Fade showed me glimpses of wonders I had never imagined. I treasured my dreams. Being awake, out of the Fade, became troublesome.

actually telling the truth but no one picks up on the gravity of it

Solas: [...] I believe the elven gods existed, as did the old gods of Tevinter. But I do not think any of them were gods, unless you expand the definition of the word to the point of absurdity. I appreciate the idea of your Maker, a god that does not need to prove his power. I wish more such gods felt the same. Cassandra: You have seen much sadness in your journeys, Solas. Following the Maker might offer some hope. Solas: I have people, Seeker. The greatest triumphs and tragedies this world has known can all be traced to people.

Cole: No, inside. I don’t hear your hurt as much. Your song is softer, subtler, not silent but still. Solas: How small the pain of one man seems when weighted against the endless depths of memory, of feeling, of existence. That ocean carries everyone. And those of us who learn to see its currents move through life with their fewer ripples.

Cole: You didn’t do it to be right. You did it to save them. Inquisitor: Solas, what is Cole talking about? Solas: A mistake. One of many made by a much younger elf who was certain he knew everything.

Solas: Empires rise and fall. Arlathan was no more “innocent” than your own Tevinter in its time. Solas: Your nostalgia for the ancient elves, however romanticized, is pointless.

Solas: Our people used to be here. Sera: Pfft, you say that everywhere. Solas: It is more true than you want to believe.

Vivienne: You must be pleased, apostate. With the Templars dissolved, your rebels will be most difficult to pacify. Solas: My rebels? Am I an agent for their cause, whispering poison into the Inquisition’s ears? Solas: How comforting. Vivienne: You enjoy seeing yourself as a villain? Solas: No more than any other clever man who wonders what he could do if pushed.

Vivienne: [about the Temple of Mythal] Now you know the elves were once a mighty nation. Solas: I always knew, Enchanter. The Temple of Mythal is just another reminder of what was lost.

(in the Emerald Graves): These forests have changed much since I was last here.

during the Fade!Haven cutscene Solas: It seems you hold the key to our salvation. You had sealed it with a gesture... and right then, I felt the whole world change. Inquisitor: [romance option] “Felt the whole world change?” Solas: A figure of speech. Inquisitor: I’m aware of the metaphor. I’m more interested in felt. Solas: You change... everything.

pointing out that people assume he means things he did not directly say

Cole: There is pain though, still within you. Solas: And I never said there was not.

Solas: You may well become fully human, after all. I never thought to see it. Cole: When did you see it before? Solas: I did not say that I had.

Iron Bull: We’ve got the alliance with my people. Given how much you love the Qun, I figured... Solas: I might scold you? Berate you for your decisions? Iron Bull: Hey. The Chargers died as heroes for the good of the mission. Solas: I never said otherwise.

Sera: Don’t you start. Solas: I’m reasonably certain I said nothing.

Vivienne: [talking shit about grey warden mages] Solas: I never claimed mages should be above the law, Enchanter. Vivienne: No, darling. You merely implied it, while offering no viable suggestions for improvement.

after infamous “side benefits” dialogue Warrior Inquisitor: You find my muscles enjoyable? Solas: I meant that you enjoyed having them, presumably. Warrior Inquisitor: Ah. Solas: But yes... since you asked.

diminishing things he does actually know by saying he he “believes” or “thinks,” or that things were vaguely “said” or “told”

Solas: I say what I believe to be true, even if it gives offense to those who prefer the lie.

Dorian: That orb Corypheus carries... are you certain it’s of elven origin, Solas? Solas: I believe so. Why do you ask?

Solas: It is said that we lived at a pace that sustained us for... ages.

making it sound like he’s talking about something/someone else, but it’s just him lmao

Cole: Do you know a lot about wolves? Solas: I know that they are intelligent, practical creatures that small-minded fools think of as terrible beasts.

Solas: No man can kill so many people without breaking inside. To survive... those you fight must become monsters. Iron Bull: The ones that kill innocent people, yeah. The rest... I don’t know. Solas: The mind does marvelous things to protect itself.

during In Hushed Whispers Inquisitor: I’m glad you understood what he just said because I’m not sure I did. Solas: You would think such understanding would stop me from making such terrible mistakes. You would be wrong.

misc

this one i wanted to include because it’s the only circumstance (that i came across) where someone directly asks solas to lie and he literally says he can’t

during the fucking crestwood breakup scene Inquisitor: [angry option] Tell me you don’t care. Solas: I can’t do that. Inquisitor: Tell me I was some casual dalliance so I can call you a cold-hearted son of a bitch and move on! Solas: I’m sorry.

*also note that most of these are banter transcriptions from the wiki; some are cutscene / other dialogue posted by either @/daitranscripts or u/karinini on reddit; it’s not all his cutscenes obv, but I’m not about to look up every single one individually sdlkfj*

#i am................incredibly embarrassed that i did this #forgive me. the brain worms would not leave until it was Done #also sorry that its ugly no matter what i did tungle was NOT happy w my formatting. just know its clean and easy to read in my mind :/#and i know none of this is new information but i am riddled with terminal grad student brain disease so i like having my evidence organized #long post #(bc its long as hell if u open the read more)#im going to put this in my #ref #tag. bc i sometimes get tripped up writing his dialogue to be cryptic but true

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dialovers-translations · 3 years

Text

Diabolik Lovers DARK FATE ー Reiji Dark [Prologue]

ー The scene starts in the underground waterway

Yui: ( I’m sure Reiji-san will be upset with me if I follow after him. But even so, I... )

Uu...

ー She pushes open the portal

*Creaaaak*

*THUD*

ー The scene shifts to the forest in the Demon World

Yui: ーー I’m here...

( This is the Demon World...It’s as dark as ever. Even more so right now, with the lunar eclipse still ongoing... )

( Oh no. I don’t know the way...It’s pitch-black, I can barely see a thing. )

( Which direction should I go? )

( I want to meet up with Reiji-san as soon as I can... )

*HOOOOOOWL*

Yui: ...!!

( The howling of wolves...Don’t tell me, they’re nearby? )

( Those wolves which attacked Ayato-kun... )

ー A flashback ensues

Yui: Ayato-kun!!!!

Ayato: Fuck…That hurt! The fuck’s your problem!!?

ー The wolf continues its assault

Ayato: Guh…Chichinashi, don’t you dare move from underneath me…!!

Yui: B-But…!

Ayato: Shut up…Guah…!!

*RIIIIIIP*

Ayato: …Guh…Uu…!!

ー The flashback ends

Yui: Ugh...

( Oh no...I remembered, and now my body won’t stop shaking. )

( Perhaps I made a mistake by coming here all by myself... )

*HOOOOOOWL*

Yui: ...! Again...

( Also, I feel like they’ve gotten closer than before... )

( Either way, staying here is dangerous. I should look for a place to hide. )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to inside the abandoned building

Yui: ーー There’s a house all the way out here...

( The building seems to be quite old and there doesn’t appear to be anyone living here right now... )

( Perfect. I’ll use this as my hiding spot. )

*Rustle*

Yui: ...Phew.

( I finally got to catch my breath... )

( However, I can’t stay here forever. Perhaps it isn’t too late to turn back after all... )

*Thud*

Yui: ...!!

( I heard a noise coming from outside right now...Don’t tell me, there’s someone here? )

( What should I do? Where can I hide...? )

( Ah! I can hide behind those curtains! )

ー Yui moves behind the curtains

??? 1: The noise was coming from here, right?

??? 2: Yes. I am positive.

??? 1: ...You’re right, it definitely reeks of something in here. Oi, search the room.

??? 2: Yes, sir!

Yui: ( ...Who could those guys be? Are they perhaps Vampires...? )

( Oh no. Who knows what they’ll do to me if they find me. )

( Please, don’t let them check here...! )

??? 2: ーー There doesn’t seem to be anyone around. Should we turn back?

??? 1: Hm...

Yui: ( Thank god. Seems like they’re leaving already. If I just stay hidden like this, I should be able to go unnoticed somehow... )

??? 1: ...?

??? 2: Is something the matter?

ー He opens the curtains

Yui: ...!!!

??? 1: So this is where you’ve been hiding. Hah, how naive.

*Rustle*

Yui: Ow! No, let me go...!

??? 1: A woman, huh? And a human, on top of that. Where did you come from?

Yui: F-From the human world...

??? 1: Why did you come here? Did you come with a specific reason in mind? Or perhapsーー

...Hm?

Yui: Eh...?

??? 1: What is this scent? For a human, it’s somewhat...

Oi, woman! Are you truly a human?

Yui: I am...

??? 1: Suspicious. Seems like we need to investigate you more thoroughly.

ーー Oi, take this woman to our castle.

??? 2: Roger!

Yui: No way...! Stop, please! I have somewhere I need to go immediately, so...!

??? 1: Keep quiet and follow us!

*Rustle*

Yui: Kyah...!

( At this rate, I’ll get taken with them...However, I’m no match for these people... )

( No...I’m scared...Save me, Reiji-san...! )

???: May I ask what you are going to do with her?

Yui: Eh...?

Reiji-san...!!

( This is the real one, right? I didn’t think he’d actually come for me...! )

??? 1: ...! You are Karlheinz-sama’s...

Reiji: Long time no see, Zweig-sama. I suppose it must have been since the last evening party.

Yui: ( Reiji-san knows this person...? )

Reiji: By the way, would you kindly let go of the lady?

Zweig: My sincere apologies! I was unaware of the fact that she is your prey...

Reiji: No. She is my lover.

Yui: Eh...?

( He said that like it was nothing... )

( But I’m happy. He’s willing to refer to me as his lover in front of others. )

Zweig: ...I see. In that case, I should return her to you.

Reiji: Thank you very much.

Zweig: However, what was she doing here?

This is the Demon World and on top of that, the lunar eclipse is still ongoing. It is extremely dangerous for a human woman to be wandering around the woods by herself.

Reiji: You are absolutely correct. This was a blunder on my part. ...I am extremely ashamed.

Zweig: No, I was not blaming you or anything...

Well, let us move on from that. In the end, nothing happened after all.

Reiji: Once again, my sincere apologies.

Well then, we shall take our leave now. ーー We are leaving, Yui.

Yui: Y-Yes.

ー The scene shifts back to the forest

Yui: ーー I’m so sorry, Reiji-san. I caused you trouble.

Reiji: Is that all? Nothing else you should say?

Yui: Well...I acted recklessly despite my promise to remain in the human world...

Reiji: My thoughts exactly. Good grief...I was right sending a Familiar down there to check just in case.

Who knows what could have happened if I arrived just mere seconds later.

Yui: ( He’s upset... )

( Of course he is. I caused him trouble because of my own selfish acts. )

Reiji: I doubt you are aware, but those men were part of the Snake Clan, also known as Vibora.

Yui: Snake...? So they’re not Vampires?

Reiji: Yes. However, that does not make them any less dangerous. After all, they are highly territorial.

They were patrolling around the abandoned building to keep an eye on possible intruders wishing to enter their territory which lies just past that area...

If one were to set foot inside their territory, not even a fellow Demon would make it through unscathed.

You were truly playing with fire.

Yui: ( I see... )

I really am sorry...

Reiji: Haah...Well, I suppose I can let it slide. Nothing happened this time after all.

Please use this as a lesson and refrain from being so reckless in the future.

Yui: ( Huh? He only scolded me. In the past, I would have received a severe punishment... )

Reiji: What is the matter? Making such an odd expression.

Yui: Uhm, I was just thinking you’ve kind of changed.

Reiji: Why would you say that all of a sudden...?

However, if I have truly changed, then that would be...because of you.

Yui: Eh?

Reiji: Well then, let us head home.

ー He offers his hand

*Rustle*

On certain CGs, little black roses will appear on the screen. If you click on them, you get an extra line of dialogue.

“Look at those flushed cheeks...Seems like my lover is quite the shy one per usual. Although that is part of what makes you so adorable.”

“You honestly are hopeless without me. I suppose I would be able to rest at ease if you were constantly connected to me like this.”

Yui: Ah...

( He grabbed hold of my hand... )

( His hand is so big...His fingers are long too, it really feels like a man’s hand. )

( I wonder why? This isn’t the first time he has touched me, but my heartbeat’s going crazy... )

Reiji: Why do you avert your gaze?

Yui: I-It’s nothing...

Reiji: I shall not allow you to keep any secrets from me. Answer me, Yui.

Yui: Well...I feel somewhat embarrassed...

Reiji: Embarrassed?

Heh. Why are you still flustered over this? We are lovers. Therefore, it is only normal for us to hold hands.

Or would you perhaps prefer another method?

Yui: Another method...?

Reiji: I will tell you if you so wish...But when I do, I assume your cheeks may turn an even brighter shade of red.

Yui: Uu...

Reiji: Fufu...You truly are a straightforward person.

Yui: ( ...I wonder if he’s teasing me? )

( However, even that makes me happy. )

( His voice is so gentle, therefore I can tell that he cares for meーー )

*TIMESKIP*

ー The scene shifts to the entrance of the Sakamaki castle

Reiji: Well then, we have arrived.

You are dirty, so you should take a shower first.

Yui: Yes. Uhm...Is Ayato-kun alright? If possible, I’d like to see him...

Reiji: Ayato has yet to regain consciousness. There is nothing you can do even if you go see him.

Yui: I see...

( Vampires usually have a speedy recovery. Yet, he still hasn’t woken up... )

( I wonder if he’ll be okay...? )

Reiji: ...Well, would you like to go take a quick look?

Yui: Eh? I can?

Reiji: It is written all over your face that you are worried sick.

I doubt you can relax and take a shower in your current state.

Yui: Thank you very much!

ー The scene shifts to one of the bedrooms

Yui: ...

Ayato: ...

Yui: ( He really won’t even budge. )

( I don’t want to think this way, but it’s almost as if he’s dead... )

Reiji-san, how’s his condition...?

Reiji: The wound on his left arm is the only physical injury. It is recovering quite well, but to this day, he has not shown any signs of awakening.

He might have hit his head hard on something.

However, I am not a medical specialist, so I cannot say for sure...

Yui: I see...

Uhm, do doctors not exist here in the Demon World?

Reiji: I believe I have mentioned this in the past as well, but the profession of ‘doctor’ does not exist here.

Aah, however...

Yui: Does something come to mind?

Reiji: Yes. There is one thing.

Father’s pharmaceutical department. If we go there, they could examine Ayato’s symptoms.

Yui: Really?

Reiji: Yes.

Well then, we have been here long enough, no? Let us leave.

I doubt you can relax in those dirty clothes.

Yui: Ah, just a little longer...Ayato-kun has some sweat on his forehead, so I’d like to wipe it off.

Reiji: I shall do that.

Yui: But...

Reiji: ...You are rather dense.

Yui: Eh? What do you mean?

Reiji: You wish to remain by Ayato’s side that badly? More so than spending time with me?

Yui: Eh...?

( Don’t tell me, is Reiji-san jealous...? )

ー Reiji steps closer

Reiji: Good grief. To think you would make me go this far...I assume you are prepared to get punished?

Yui: N-No way...I was simply worried about Ayato-kun, that’s all...

Reiji: Are we talking back now? In that case, I assume those defiant lips should be first to receive a penalty.

Nn...

*Smooch*

Yui: ...

Y-You can’t...Reiji-san...Ayato-kun’s right there...

Reiji: He cannot tell since he is asleep. Come on, keep still.

Nn...Haah...

Yui: ( They’re only light kisses, yet it’s making my head spin... )

( At this rate, I’ll... )

Reiji: Fufu...You look as if you are about to melt any second now. It would be troublesome if you were to collapse on me as well, so I will leave the follow-up for some other time.

ー Reiji walks away

Yui: ( Geez, Reiji-san...! )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

<- [ Sakamaki Prologue ] [ Dark 01 ] ->

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #reiji sakamaki #dark fate #diabolik lovers translation #dfreijidarkprolog

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stellocchia · 3 years

Text

Here’s an analysis of the “Tommy’s Plan To Kill Dream” stream (part 1)

I noticed that my “overly long” analysis always tend to be about extremely depressing streams, so here’s me trying to change that and failing miserably because I can find angst literally everywhere!

As usual I’ll be talking about the characters only unless stated otherwise from here on out.

The whole thing is under the cut because, as the name of this “series” suggest, I’m phisycally incapable of keeping things short

Before we proceed with the analysis we need a quick overview of Tommy’s relationship with the people he interacts with this stream so that we can all start with the same mindset:

Tommy & Tubbo: They have obviously been very close friends since the beginning but recently Tommy has developed a sort of dependence on Tubbo which really isn’t healthy. This of course is a direct result of his second exile and his mindset moving forward after that. While with Dream and then Techno Tommy was extremely isolated and made to depend entirely on the one person providing for him. He continued this even after Doomsday, this time developing an extreme dependence on Tubbo that culminated with the line “What am I without you?” (basing your entire identity around someone else is not healthy, who’d have thought?). With the developing of the hotel post-finale he expands his system of support to include Sam and Sam Nook, but this is of course ruined with the prison arc. Tommy doesn’t trust Sam any longer and, while he still cares deeply about Sam Nook, he’s not someone that can give him emotional support. So he went back to rely soley on Tubbo (though it’s obvious throughout the stream that he’s tentatively doing so with Ranboo as well)

Tommy & Ranboo: The two of them used to be sort of close before Doomsday, Ranboo still very much admiring Tommy and considering him a friend. Thet said Ranboo is not in the very small circle of people who Tommy trusts and finding him married to his best friend and moving in together with a child didn’t help his perception of him. He feels replaced by Ranboo and sort of feels like he “stole” the only system of support he had that he could count on. Though there is a beginning of change throughout the stream.

Tommy & Ghostbur: Their relationship is really interesting. Tommy is pretty obviously one of Ghostbur’s unfinished businesses (possibly the only one now that L’Manburg is gone) and most definitely his priority. He was the only one who offered to go with Tommy during exile and he tried to be there for him constantly. Even his return this time was Tommy-motivated as we know from what he said in Ranboo’s stream. Meanwhile Tommy’s feelings on him are very complicated. He swings between recognizing that Alivebur and Ghostbur are different entities to conflating them together any time he has a strong reminder of Alivebur (at the beginning of exile and after spending time with Void!Wilbur for example). He also has only very recently come to the full realisation that Wilbur was awful to him and that their relationship was definitely not healthy (something we can infer from him finally taking a stance on not wanting him back and him admitting that Wilbur is good at manipulating him).

Now that that’s done, let’s get into the analysis!

“Oh I forgot I died, didn’t I?” So, Tommy is in a very peculiar situation where he has to somehow process his own death and, at the moment, he’s still in a state of denial about it. He knows he died but he acts like he didn’t in the sense that he hates how it affects his life. He doesn’t want people to treat him any different (even though he IS different), he doesn’t want to acknowledge the changesto the world nor to his relationships, which is the reason why he dislikes the statues of himself so much (that and the fact that he simply never liked to have statues of him). They act as a constant phisycal reminder of what happened to him and, more importantly, how much things changed in his absence.

One other reason why change scares him so much it’s because of how often he’s alienated from the world around him. He spent more time in exile/prison then in his own home since L’Manburg got it’s independence. He is constantly forced to live in an isolated bubble while the world around him moves forward and then, when he gets thrown back in he is never really given much time to adapt and catch up before he is thrown once more into the role of the hero/villain that he despises (after the 16th for example he was painted as a liability at his first mistake and put on trial etc despite how much he did for the country. Again after Doomsday he had the Dream fight to think about and, after that, Sam Nook asked him again to be the hero against the Egg and he, once again, was villanized by the Team Rocket. Now again he finds himself in the position where he has to take action against Dream once more).

So the stream really starts with Tommy deciding to contact Tubbo to get some help in his plan to kill Dream. He heads to Snowchester to do so (stopping before that to build Sam Nook a little wooden platform to keep him out of the rain).

On the way to Snowchester he gets trapped in the tunnel and almost drowns, making him break the glass of the tunnel. This is triggering for him for a couple of reasons (aside from drowning generally being not pog): exile reminder of his waking up drowning every day and taking damage in general seems to be a reminder of his death (he also seems to be hypersensitive in general in regard to phisycal sensations)

The whole mansion scene is a further indicator of this new dynamic between Tubbo, Ranboo and Tommy. Tubbo and Ranboo grew extremely close as we know (got married for tax benefits, adopted a child together and, apparently, canonically fell in love after) and they are planning to move in together with their son in the mansion. This, once again, all happened while Tommy was locked in prison. The feelings of alienation for him in the situation are prevalent together with his jealousy at Ranboo as he perceives him as his replacement.

“You married someone without me- without my permission?” “Okay, can I have your permission?” “Does he make you happy?” “Yes” “then ye- okay” Just... I’m a softie and I think that it’s very sweet that his only requirement to give his blessing is Ranboo making Tubbo happy. We stan a unconditionally supportive friend!

“Ranboo listen, let me open up to you pal! I- I’ve been through a pretty rough time recently and- (”Yeah I can tell”) and I know that we were kind of close before I went into prison, but then you ki- Tubbo would you mind looking at that flower a bit more? You kinda stole my best friend, and that’s kinda- you know now I feel kind of very lonely- actually feel very lonely” “I didn’t steal...” “And my other friend who then turned out to be my enemy is actually dead. So I’m kinda feeling a little bit left out here, and considering I was locked in a prison for 4 weeks...” “Yeah, no, I mean... I didn’t- I didn’t steal...” “No no no no, you did, you did, didn’t you? You did!” That was a big piece of dialogue there to transcribe! Regardless Tommy doing my job for me here by literally spelling out for us how he feels about Ranboo. One thing to be noted though is that Ranboo remains calm and keeps an understanding attitude in all his interactions with Tommy. He constantly tries to be reasonable (trying to explain that he didn’t “steal” Tubbo as, you know, he has his own free will and can have more then one friend) and generally just doesn’t get mad. Keeping a non-confrontational attitude is probably the best thing he could have done here.

So after that exchange Tommy opens up to them a bit about Dream, explaining what he’s planning.

“The revive book is too much and he (Dream) is too powerful and he’s only gonna use it for evil now! He is an evil man and he used it- he used ME to prove a point and to experiment on me” “Oh my God, like a lab rat!” “Like a- like a- worse then a lab rat! A lab- a lab sock!” “A lab sock?! No!” “Oh God!” “Oh my God” This is the first time in the conversation where Tommy’s gone more in depth about his traumatic experience (though he did mention before that “Dream asked him about it” in reference to his revival). It’s honestly a really big positive that he’s opening up to someone, even if it is other two teenagers who can’t do much but be sympathetic to him.

“I think it’s good. You don’t actually know this but I’ve been- I’ve been collecting some data, but, honestly... I’m not sure is a too good of an idea” “You said it was good” “No no no, I didn’t mean it was good in the sense of we should-” “Ranboo’s changed you, Ranboo’s changed you! He’s manipulating you! He’s manipulative and controlling” So 2 things to unpack here:

1) Tubbo hesitance comes from both him being on his last life and how things went during the season 2 finale. He isn’t too optimistic about their chances of killing Dream (even with Dream being completely unarmed in the prison) and he’s also less passively suicidal then he was during the finale, probably because he managed to build a life for himself now. He has a home, a family and Snowchester, he doesn’t wanna loose those.

2) Because of very obvious reasons (Wilbur being abusive, Dream being abusive, Techno isolating and manipulating him and then siding with his abuser and Sam betraying his trust) Tommy views all relationships aside from his with Tubbo in a negative lense. Basically he has HUGE trust issues and he’s so used to his relationships having usually some degree of manipulation (exept for Sam, who still entirely broke his trust. Also recently found out Jack had been lying and trying to kill him as well, which probably didn’t help the issue) that he just assumes that must be the case for Tubbo and Ranboo as well. Both of them of course are fast to correct him on this as that’s really not the case.

“So why don’t you want him to bring Wilbur back now? What suddenly changed?” “I spent months in the death... area- let’s call it ‘the death zone’, with Wilbur alright?” “The death zone?” “I spent months there. I spent months and months and months there and I was only there for a few days, Wilbur’s been there for real months. He is so different and he is fucking powerful and you know how he molds me like a piece of clay, Tubbo. (hushed) I don’t want him to come back” So here we have Tommy’s admission to Wilbur’s manipulation and how effective it is on him (most probably because of how close they used to be). We also have another hint about how dangerous Wilbur is now because of the knowledge he acquired.

“In the mean time we also... unless we don’t kill Dream... we gonna have to stop Technoblade, ‘cause Technoblade owes him a favour” “Stop Technoblade?” “Technoblade owes him a favour and we can’t let him redeem it” When Tommy mention’s Techno, Tubbo immediately becomes even MORE hesitant about this whole thing (probably a mix of his death-related trauma, Techno exploding his nation twice and his most recent inquisition venture in Snowchester).

“So why don’t we try to block Dream’s communication with Technoblade? ‘Cause then Technoblade would have no idea how to... redeem... the favour” “He can bring back the dead Tubbo, we need him DEAD! He’s too powerful for this server’s good and he’s a bad man and he won’t use his powers for good. And it’s not even-” “Mmmmh” “What do you mean ‘Mmmh’ Man?!” “I don’t know this really- this didn’t go too well for us last time we got all hyped up and tried to do this” Tubbo once again is mostly apprehensive because of how things went last time they were up against Dream. He also tried proposing an alternative solution to fighting that Tommy shoots down because he doesn’t think anyone should have the power that Dream has. Also, may I add that Ranboo is actually on Tommy’s side on this whole thing? Possibly because he knows as well how dangerous Dream still is.

“Just because he’s locked up doesn’t mean his strenght is, allright?” This basically perfectly sums up the crux of the issue. Of course thanks to Quackity’s lore we know that Dream’s power now is mostly a facade, but they don’t know this. To them Dream is just as powerful now as he was before. To them the image of powerlessness that the prison gives him is the facade.

That said the conversation in the electric chair tower ends here and, as this is already so incredibly long, I’ll also end part one of the analysis here. This was also the most lore-heavy part as the rest is more light-hearted so it’ll probably be faster to cover.

#tommyinnit #tubbo #ranboo #ghostbur #dream smp #tw abuse #tw manipulation #analysis #character analysis #I truly WOULD have mad it all one post #but this is already absurdly long as is...#and as I said this was the more lore-heavy part #so the split fits well #long post #but you knew that already #my post

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lovethisletters · 3 years

Text

Dating Grell HC!

Hi! SO sorry for taking this long, irl stuff got in my way but I’m finally here! Agreed, finding Grell content is kind of difficult, and though they aren’t my favorite character, I do enjoy their personality. Before we start, I would like to clarify that I wrote this with gender neutral pronouns for Grell since I’m kind of confused: in the manga and anime sometimes, characters will refer to them with: He/Him pronouns, they refer to themselves with: She/her but their wiki refers to them with they/them pronouns; so, if someone could clarify that for me (and provide a link that confirms is cannon) I would be beyond grateful!

Word count: 1220

Keys: Y/n = Your name.

Summary: Grell starts to feel in a way they have never felt before.

Warnings/Additional notes: none…I think(? But I tried to keep it neutral for the reader too, since pronouns weren’t specified.

Grell being a reaper they have little to no time on their hands, so most probably they met you at work.

They were the one to approach you first by practically throwing themselves at you going on a ramble about how GORGEOUS you are.

I think that at the beginning their feelings are more like a simple crush that will fade away with time or mindless lust that is set to disappear the moment they get to have sex with you.

So, until that happens you will have to deal with practically a cat, they get all touchy: rubbing their cheek against yours, hugging you enthusiastically (like how a child would hug a stuffed toy) begging for attention constantly and even directing not so subtle innuendos at you.

But overall Grell is someone fun and pleasing to be around (especially if you are feeling a bit down) their bubbly and dramatic personality is just so contagious you can’t help but smile!

So that’s why you don’t push them away as harshly as Sebastian or William would

And I feel like that’s why they get a little bit more interested in you.

Even though they identify themselves as a masochist, that does not mean they enjoy being treated poorly all the time, they know their personality is…hard to cope with, but Grell appreciate when someone would still make the effort to get along.

So, when you don’t just…you know…kick them in the face every time they approach you (cofcofSeb&Willcofcof) they feel more comfortable being themselves around you, since no matter how eccentric they might be, you always continue the conversation in a kind manner.

Grell is someone who’s VERY emotionally driven, to the point I think it must be hard for them to differentiate certain emotions like: anger to frustration, sadness with deception and romantic love to lustful attraction. I feel like for them there’s no grey area, is either love or hate so in the beginning this might cause your relationship a bit of trouble.

As your relationship grew closer you started to notice a change in Grell’s behavior: They started being a bit more serious (still as theatrical as ever but different none the less)

They suddenly seemed to have become aware of what personal space is supposed to mean, the hugs became relatively short, the innuendos stopped almost completely and when the two of you started talking, Grell was eerily quiet.

This probably would make you feel like you might have angered them in some way, but don’t worry…the truth is..Grell is just confused.

Lust driven love is all they’re ever known, but their feelings for you have changed, evolved if you may. The only thing they know: is that they like you, but not in the way they like Will, Sebastian or Undertaker, no. They like you in a different way…a deeper way.

So please be patient and let them figure it out on their own.

BUT tbh I don’t think they figured out on their own…I just think they where in the phantomhive manor one day (just to tease Sebastian or double-check these newfound feelings were indeed different) But Ciel just felt so uneasy since he had never seen Grell so quiet and deep in thought.

—What is wrong with you, Grell?—His words condescending as ever.

—Pay no mind to them, master. The reaper is just hopelessly in love—Said Sebastian with a smirk creeping on his lips.

Sebastian’s words were almost eye-opening to them. “Love? Was it truly the right word to describe this feeling?”

Yes, yes it was, they knew the moment they went back to you that day.

Saying that you were surprised when Grell suddenly appeared at your house, late at night, pinning you to the floor by giving you the BIGGEST hug in your life, after weeks of not seeing each other since apparently, they were ignoring you, was a severe understatement.

—What has gotten into you, Grell?— you questioned, caressing their long red hair.

—Oh! Y/N my love! I love you!—You smiled, Grell had finally come back to you.

—Ha Ha Ha, I love you too, Grell!—Grell froze in place.

You thought they were messing around with you like countless time before, so you just responded in the usual joking manner.

—No, no, no! You’ve got it all wrong my dear!—For the first time since you had known them, their expression turned serious and gently took your hands in theirs.

—Y/n you are probably the only person I have ever felt this strongly, I feel like if you were to die today, I will die with you! Y/n my dear…I love you! This are my true feelings…Won’t you accept them?

Such sweet words, spoken with the most profound sincerity.

You couldn’t help but tear up a little (Which made Grell panic a bit)

—Yes, Grell, I love you too, so please accept this feelings of mine as well.—The hugh that followed was not only an acceptance but the seal of a promise, the true love kind of promise.

From here onwards you can see a change in Grell’s behavior towards you (in a positive way that is)

Dating Grell means you get to see them in a whole new light.

They are much more sincere (still dramatic as ever but a bit toned down)

They allow themselves to be vulnerable with you, no longer hiding their worries under a carefree and almost indifferent facade.

You become a safe place they can come to when things get difficult or simply when they just feel tired and overwhelmed with their reaper duties.

Something that stays pretty much the same in your relationship is how much attention-seeking they are.

You have to put on hold whatever you’re doing ‘cause those things can wait but Grell don’t.

“Nee~ honey, pay attention to me!” is a phrase you might hear often if you even dare to pay attention to something else when they are right beside you!

Grell will 100% shower you in kisses constantly.

Cuddles! Cuddles are a MUST with them.

Be prepared for Lots LOTS of PDA, they don’t care if it’s not the appropriate time or place, they need to show you how much you mean to them now!

I feel like they are the type to pull you closer and start dancing or reciting a dramatic dialogue of some romantic play they recently saw, out of nowhere in the middle of the street.

Grell also loves when you touch, caress, braid or brush their hair, is just so adorable! (If you want to turn them on, just pull their hair a little and see what happens ;)

If you have long hair, they will do the same but if you don’t expect them to go wild with how much flower crowns, hats, hair pins, etc they gift you.

Matching outfits! They even gifted you a red coat like theirs!

Grell loves when you let them do your make up! (if you wear any that is, otherwise they would allow you to do theirs) and it goes without saying, they are so good at it! you always end up feeling like royalty.

Theatrical pet names!

Sometimes they would allow you to borrow their Death Scythe (even if is for ridiculous things like idk cutting bread lol) but shhh, don’t tell Will!

Theater Dates!

Kisses, TONS of kisses (they love when you bite their lips, if you do; you might even hear them moan)

Overall, Grell is just so happy to have someone like you in their life and they will demonstrate it to you every chance they get.

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

If you spot any misplaced pronouns, please let me know! I will correct it asap! just know that I didn’t do it with any ill intention and that english is not my first language and perhaps that’s why something might have slipped! as well grammatical errors, I’m trying to polish my writing in this language so calling me out on any mistakes helps me a lot!

I will forever thank you if you go check out my other profile: @aileysmirnov where I post things about my OC: edits, one-shots, imagines, art, etc. If you like Greek mythology and the bat family maybe you would like her as much as I do!

Anyway! Thank you for reading!

#grell sutcliff #grell sutcliff x reader #black butler #black butler fanfiction #black butler grell #kuroshitsuji #black butler edit #sebastian michaelis #ciel phantomhive #black butler fandom

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lucycola · 3 years

Text

The Lone Survivor: Part 2

Spock x Fem!Reader

Premise: Fem!Reader accidentally bonds with Spock when rescued from her own starship crash. The Golden Trio realize the footage from the wreck could wrongfully incriminate the reader. They attempt to find a way out of this. PART ONE HERE

SLOW BURN. Eventual smut in later parts. More Bones dialogue than probably necessary but WHATEVER. Fatherly Bones. There will be more one on one Reader and Spock in part three. Right now it plays like a normal episode with build up because I’m stubborn.

WARNINGS: Movie amnesia, sexual themes if you squint, mentions of death, and implied one-sided matrimony.

Part 2: The Night We Met I Knew I Needed You So

There was no mistaking the final moments illustrated in the found footage from the Calvary. It was you assaulting the crew on the bridge-you setting a course straight to destruction on Toravalve 9.

However, Mister Spock had disagreed. He had reached into your mind and saw you in your own eyes. It couldn’t have been you.

After carrying you back to the medbay you were put safely back in your bed with a Doctor McCoy who hovered over you like a disgruntled mother bear. With the tricorder at your forehead you pleaded with him to relax.

Captain Kirk had been summoned to hear what you both, or rather, Mister Spock had to say. For some stranger reason Spock omitted the existence of the orange tape. He deliberated his own findings via meld instead.

“A copy of sorts, Captain.”

“And you’re sure you saw the Lieutenant looking...at her own self?”

“As unlikely as it may seem, it is was I saw. Although it was also demonstrated that the Lieutenant received a severe head injury before witnessing her own self attack the crew members.”

“And you’re sure it wasn’t some kind of...” Kirk deliberated for a moment, “... out of body experience.”

“Also unlikely. Although it is perceivable Lieutenant L/N maybe have suffered delusions after cranial trauma I possess a suspicion that an illusion was made unto the Lieutenant and the crew.”

Kirk glanced at you for a moment and back to Spock, quizzically at first, but then with a dashing smirk. “A hunch, Spock? How very...human.”

Spock quirked a brow, hands still stonily behind his back, “All endeavors begin with a hypothesis.”

“You believe me,” you murmured, from your bed still although no longer in your white, medbay gown you were graciously presented with black Starfleet fatigues. Nurse Chapel had gently maneuvered your unruly waves into two pleats that were coming undone slowly.

A stark contrast to the pristine, polished head science officer.

The fingers on Spock’s right hand flexed at the sound of your voice.

He only turned his head to look at you, “Empirical data is what needs to be obtained-whether I believe what memories are buried in your subconscious is incidental.”

“They still don’t feel real,” you admitted. Not even your name felt real.

“Such an admission will not help your case and I advise you keep that opinion to yourself, Lieutenant.”

You felt like he was chiding you. Your ground your jaw slightly and you knew he could feel it: the aggravation, the impatience. Fear.

His right fingers flexed again, but his expression, unchanging as ever, gave nothing away.

The electric pool of warmth in the back of your mind hushed you, told you to remain calm. Diplomatic.

How could looking at your own self feel real? ‘She’ seemed so real. You had walked around the corner and met yourself, squaring you up instantly. She lunged for you and you wrestled with her, shocked at the fact that you had your own hands around your throat. They weren’t your hands. It was an imposter.

How? That was the real question.

“How do we find proof then, Mister Spock?” Kirk asked, reinserting himself.

“We locate the imposter and confirm my hypothesis.”

“You make it sound so easy,” Kirk replied.

“Indeed it will not be so. Commander Craft is aware of the meld that took place and will order me to testify my findings against the lieutenant. Until the Lieutenant’s sanity can be declared-”

“I’m sure I can help with that,” the doctor said, almost appearing out of nowhere.

“What is left is concrete evidence,” Spock added.

“The imposter,” Kirk finished, nodding.

“Who’s Commander Craft?” you asked.

He turned to look at you. You were made to feel the oblivious child with everyone in the room talking about you. However, you listened and you absorbed. You were careful with your input. Listen first, talk later, you thought to yourself. The presence in the back of your mind hummed in monotonic approval as if to say, good girl.

You wondered what those words tasted like on Spock’s lips. You shuddered in embarrassment and turned your head away.

Spock coughed uncharacteristically, “Commander Craft is the elected official heading the investigation crew from the Federation. We were contacted yesterday and were to present a full report of our findings and happenings.”

Which included the bond. That detail in itself was still above you, not fully explained nor understood. You could feel it for what it was and knew he was there. Not why or how, however.

“We must garner more time,” Spock continued to his captain, “And possibly keep myself from testifying.”

“We could declare you insane,” the doctor quipped earning another brow arch from his opposing.

“You’re asking for a loophole,” Kirk stated.

“Essentially, Captain.”

Kirk seemed to know there was more to it, the way he pursed his lips and put his fists on his hips. You knew yourself that if Spock testified against you with what he saw in the meld then there was no evidence against you truly-just what you yourself witnessed. However, Spock would be asked to tell the whole truth and that included the tape. If you were deemed crazy then your own experiences would be null and void.

Did Kirk already know about the tape?

Kirk sighed,” Spock, I...we’d be misleading not only Starfleet, but the Federation. This isn’t the first time you’ve-” he glanced at you, “-taken the unorthodox route to obtain justice.”

“Then I am asking for your trust, Captain.”

Kirk’s eyes narrowed then softened. He relented and with a sturdy tone which meant business as he relayed, “I suppose you already a loophole in mind then?”

“Indeed, Captain.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

Spock paused, fighting to look at you.

“Well, aren’t you gonna tell us?” the doctor asked.

“Proposals are not so elementary to make on Vulcan, even when it is logical...but also yet not as it could fare unfavorable circumstances. Especially if one party is unwilling.”

It took Kirk a moment, and even the doctor even longer.

“You mean...?”

“Yes, Captain.”

“You’re willing to marry her so you don’t have to testify?” he asked incredulously.

You were stupefied, impressed, but stupefied. The stoic Vulcan could play dirty. An actual proposal.

“You’re going to marry her?” Bones asked, mortified, “She’s a person...not a pawn! This is her life we’re meddling with. Marriage is a serious thing-”

“You’ll find, Doctor, that I am quite serious.”

“You could wreck her life.”

“I intend on saving it.”

Spock, your heart breathed.

“It seems like a reach for you, Spock,” Kirk said, “They would never believe the both of you, even if Y/N did agree.”

“It will be most believable as the Lieutenant and I have already made a bond.”

Silence befell everyone.

“You can’t be serious,” the doctor said finally, a fierce protectiveness in his voice. “At a time like this-”

“It was not intended as I am careful to shield my mind when partaking tactility with other forms-but, she called to me.”

And he had found you in the dark.

“She accepted it-although it is possible that may be due to the extreme duress she was suffering.”

“And you were there to save her,” Bones finished, a grave distaste in his voice.

“Such a bond can be mediated by a healer with moderate difficult just as a Terran divorce can be secured.”

It was a slap to the face. He was as willing to ‘save’ you as he was to dump you and leave you for dead. Red hot turmoil threatened in your core and you clenched your blankets. What was the point then?

Your crew was dead, your reputation tarnished, and everyone thought you were a murderer.

Let me die, you thought, just let me die.

“Certainly not,” Spock said quietly. Both the Captain and the Doctor eyed him wearily as this random statement.

“So you...negating your-”

“No, sir. I am simply waiting for Lieutenant L/N’s input on the matter.”

“There’s no way in hell she’d agree to this. The bond is clearly one-sided, Spock. How could you be so irresponsible?” Bones chided.

“A explanation escapes me.” He was still looking at you with smoldering eyes, with bright stars dancing behind them. Cold, but fierce.

What other shot did you have? How else could you bide time while searching for this monster? You wanted to give up. It would be easy.

Kirk leaned in to his second in command and suggested softly, “Perhaps you should ask more properly, Mister Spock. She is a lady. Bones is right. It’s her life.”

“Lieutenant-”

Kirk elbowed him.

“Y/N,” he corrected himself, “Will-”

“Yes,” you blurted in a hushed voice, “I will marry you, Mister Spock.”

You were left in your bed again under strict supervision this time. You reveled in the shock of what you’d just agreed to, and even the shock of the situation in its entirety. Rediscovering the monster that claimed your crew and your identity was still fresh and seeing it through your own eyes again with the meld drained the life out of you. You were exhausted, but your mind still raced. ‘It’ was on the ship-it had to be. They didn’t find a copy of you or anyone else in the wreckage. You wondered how recognizable some of your crewmates were and you had to still your frantic thoughts.

“What ever is going on up there it needs to stop. You heart rate is very high.” Doctor McCoy was already readying a hypo.

“That...thing. It might be here-”

“We’re on high alert, looking for any copies of ourselves. It’s not the first time this kind of thing has happened,” he tried to assure you.

“There are no red lights.”

“They get annoying after awhile. Whatever it is, it’s damn good at hiding. But we’ll flush it out. The Captain has a plan.”

“Did Mister Spock tell you the imposter can read your memories? That’s how it tricked me. Did he tell the captain?” you asked, wring your hands with the blanket.

“Your guess is better than mine.”

You thought back to Spock’s omission to the orange tape. Always flipping back and forth between elusive affection and monotonous professionalism. Marry me. Divorce after.

“He’s hard to place sometimes.”

“And you agreed to marry him.”

“I did,” you blurted stubbornly. “We’re bonded.”

Bones suddenly became eye level with you, bracing both hands on the rail. “But do you know what that even means?”

You arched a brown similar to Vulcan fashion, “Do you, good doctor?”

Bones shook his head and instead asked, “Sleep now or later? Does it help with the nightmares?”

“Yes, I think so. Now, I think. Doctor?”

“Yes, kitty?”

“Thankyou.”

Sleep was apart of the healing process and being roused from it interrupted that. That was at least what Bones tried to argue when the captain requested your presence in the conference room. Flanked by your fiancé and the kindly captain himself you were expected to hold an interview of sorts with Commander Craft via telecom before his arrival at the crash site. Several ships had already come to help clean up.

“What am I supposed to say?” you half pleaded with them, “I’m not good at lying.”

“You do not have to be deceitful. However, if you find yourself under duress the commander may suspect a guilt as I had sensed upon our initial meeting,” Spock replied, one arm linked on your good side.

Your other arm supported a crutch when had a nervous hand floating behind it via the captain.

Kirk shot a reassuring look your way. “I recommend the truth. Tell him what you told me, and you’ll be fine. He’s a bit of a stickler for rules and he’s tough on the stand-”

“Jesus,” you muttered.

“Or...a bit of theatrics couldn’t hurt if you get too overwhelmed. You did just lose your crew.”

“How could I forget?” Your lip quivered.

You three paused at the door.

“I trust my first officer, Y/N,” Kirk turned to face you, “As unorthodox as this has become, I put trust into his melds and by what he has told me you didn’t do anything wrong. That thing-that monster did.”

You couldn’t stop the tears dribbling. “Captain, I let my crew die.”

“Any death having occurred was unintentional on your part, Lieutenant, ”Spock said in his chilly tone, “As was demonstrated in your memory you tired to apprehend and fend off the creature, but to no avail. You did everything in your power. The human emotional phenomena your are experiencing is common upon singular entities having being spared from genocide.”

“That is?” Kirk asked.

“Survivor’s guilt,” you sighed, finishing the statement for you fiancé.

Commander Craft was not unkind, nor did he smile. He was neither young or old and his questions were fairly basic as the captain’s were three days earlier. You recounted all you could remember, and it was stressed by you and the captain that you had lost most of your general memory due to head trauma. Whether he seemed convinced was unknown to you. You tried to hold back in your distress. The warmth in the back of your mind wrapped around the little knot that pain and anxiety was birthed. It was squeezed it slowly, like the grasp of a hand. You delivered your answers calmly.

“The double of yourself, you saw. Did you see it transform from your father to yourself?” the commander asked.

“No sir.”

“Have you seen a copy of yourself since you boarded the Enterprise?”

“No sir.”

“And no foreign entity has been detected on the ship?”

“No sir,” the captain replied.

“Mmm,” the commander paused for the first time in what seemed like hours. “L/N, had you ever experiences delusions or hallucinations before?”

“I don’t remember.”

“And did you experience the trauma to your head before or after you saw yourself sabotaging the ship?”

“I...” you glanced, “I’m not sure. After?”

“Do you remember hitting your head at all?”

“I remember the copy throwing me hard against the wall and everything going black.” You tried to strengthen your voice, but it kept cracking. You heart continued to race. “And-”

It flashed.

“When I let my father on the ship. I went black there too. But I’m not sure if I hit my head that time.”

“And Mister Spock you were able to witness what Lieutenant L/N saw?”

“Affirmative.”

“But...through her point of view.”

Fuck. You had a feeling he would try to pull the crazy card.

“Were there any observation tapes recovered from the crash?”

“My crew obtained few, but to my knowledge they are still processing them,” the captain answered smoothly.

“Has any other information been made available to any of you?”

You could feel the edges of your vision blacken. You couldn’t make eye contact with him. Cold sweat had broken from your brow. A cold, steady hand placed itself to your brow. The natural warmth on your mind shimmered.

“She has a fever, Captain.”

“I won’t tolerate any nonsense, Lieutenant-”

“Commander, she has just lost four-hundred members of her family to a people-eating imposter!” Kirk bellowed lowly, “She’s kept it together well so far. I commend her efforts. You have the wrong idea about her.”

“Until I can find proof of this ‘imposter’ and until her psyche can be cleared by one of our doctors then we’ll see. This isn’t the first time the Federation has had to deal with the Enterprise’s shenanigans.”

“People eating?” you whispered in disbelief. Oh my god.

Spock caught on to Kirk’s unnecessary honesty. “It was discovered the imposter’s prime directive was to use the Calvary’s crew as sustenance.”

You toppled forwards and were caught and cradled by your fiancé.

“Take her to the medbay, Mister Spock,” Kirk ordered.

“Call for the doctor. I am not taking my eyes off her until we arrive!” the commander snapped.

“By the time Doctor McCoy arrives she will succumb to shock. I must attend to my t’hy’la in the most logical and efficient manner possible.”

Kirk fought the need to smile, not realizing that your theatrics weren’t really theatrics.

PART THREE

#spock #mister spock #mr spock #startrek #tos #star trek #spock x reader #spock x fem!reader #doctor mccoy #bones #jim kirk #captain kirk #kirk #oc #reader #slow burn #song lyrics of chapter is Be My Baby by The Ronettes

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