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tryingtodotheright-thing · 2 months

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Hello, Sunset - 6

AN: This is my longest chapter to date. I really suck at writing dialogue, which is just my real life awkward self presenting in fiction. I would love to hear what people think about this chapter or just the story in general. Need some inspiration as I'm stuck on the next chapter. The writing gods have left me and there's a metaphorical brick wall between my ideas and the blank Google doc ... PAIRING: Seungcheol x fem!reader GENRE: exes to lovers, idol verse, angst WORD COUNT: 4,650 WARNINGS: reader has anxiety and depression, swearing, mentions of alcohol Text in blue is spoken in Korean.

PREVIOUS / NEXT

1 December 2023 - 6 January 2024

There wasn’t really any time for melancholy, not for Y/N. She wanted to wistfully brood about her 10 days in Asia and play the nostalgic CARAT post concert, but the end of the year was relentless. Y/N travelled back to Tokyo the very next day to catch her flight home to London. She used the weekend to reset her body clock and catch up on her emails before she was back at the office on Monday.

By the time she landed in London, her episode on Amazing Saturday had already aired. She didn’t think the episode would have a huge audience. She had hoped to make an impression on the Korean audience but wasn’t expecting to suddenly be trending on Naver or anything. She had turned off the airplane mode on her phone whilst briskly making her way through the long route from the gate to baggage collection. It was a good thing her phone was silent as suddenly the notifications piled up. She opened up Instagram first as that’s where the most notifications were from and saw that Josua had tagged her on a post.

It was the second time he’d done that since they had met back in September. Then, it had been a picture they had posed together for a magazine at the Marni show. This time, it was a clip of her getting the one shot for getting the most accurate answer for the God of Music quiz. He’d captioned it to say ‘Thank you for answering SVT’s quiz, Y/N’. The post had thousands of likes already, including fellow SEVENTEEN members such as S.Coups, Seungkwan and Vernon. Her followers on Instagram had also increased, she guessed as a natural effect from this interaction. She was following Joshua already so she liked the picture and closed the app, too tired to think about her actions or do anything more.

The click clacks of her heels echoed as she walked the short distance from her cabin to the one of the Global HR Director and her line manager, David. Unlike the confident sounds of her footsteps, Y/N felt timid as she opened the door to his office once he beckoned her to come in through the glass windows of his office. David was not someone to mince his words or beat around the bush, especially as someone as busy and senior as he was in such a huge corporation.

Y/N walked out of his office thirty minutes later with relief. She’d need to talk to Sian and Emma first before she officially accepted his offer but she thought this was the best option for everyone without Y/N having to give up her career in HR completely. Her decision was solidified as she received positive response to her various promotion activities in Korea as they came out on broadcast and YouTube over the next few days. Sian and Emma began to receive interest from Korean shows and entertainment companies. The questions varied from whether she was interested in appearing on more shows to her plans on promoting in Korea and needing a local agency to support her promotions to even writing music for idol groups. Eun Ji was ecstatic at the idea of her living in Seoul and declared that Y/N would live with her. When she ran through her doubts of the move, Joshua reassured her as someone who had taken the same leap. Vernon and Seungkwan, who Y/N kept in touch with regularly since meeting them a few weeks ago, promised to visit her regularly so she wouldn’t be lonely.

By the time her slot at the Jingle Bell Ball was over a week later, Y/N felt fully confident in her decision to resign from her job in the UK and take the consultancy role. It offered her more flexibility whilst still allowing her to keep putting to use the qualification and skills she had developed over the past seven years. Her first focus would be working with regional leads in Japan and South Korea to support the planned restructures and optimise the local operations. She would be assessing the situation, proposing a solution and would oversee the implementation of it when it is accepted but won’t be the person delivering the change. She was actually excited to step out of her comfort zone and expand her experience further by dipping her toes into consultancy whilst putting to use her language skills in another country. It honestly felt like an offer too good to be true. It also gave Y/N time to prepare for her EP release that had been planned for the end of the summer and her European Tour that would kick off in the autumn of 2024. She hoped she would get lots of inspiration to write in the new environment.

Things moved quickly once she accepted David’s offer. A flat in Hannam-dong in Yongsan had been leased under her name by Emma. Whilst her company had offered to organise this for her, she had preferred to find a place that suited her specific needs and had negotiated with David so the company would contribute a fixed amount to the rent instead. David put her negotiation skills to the test but Y/N thought she handled it quite well. She had a decent deal by the end. She spent the next few weeks saying a temporary goodbye to her life in London, catching up with friends in between her end of year performance schedule. She’d gone from the one watching the countdown to NYE on BBC to the one people watched performing as the country counted down to the dawn of a new year. A few days later, she was back on a plane to Incheon, this time on her own. Emma wouldn’t be joining her in Seoul but would be making plenty of visits as needed. W Music had a partner in Seoul who would organise any assistance Y/N needed. Y/N leaned her seat back and gazed out of the window, taking a sip of the red wine the stewardess handed her earlier. She hoped 2024 would be a year to remember.

Current

Y/N had gone to bed immediately after her bath. The fight or flight response in her body had slowly disappeared until all that was left was exhaustion. She had dragged herself from the bathroom to her bedroom, not going through any of her night time routine but falling straight into bed instead. The blackout blinds in her room hid the world from her and equally hid her from the world from her. It was the Bank Holiday Monday so she had allowed herself to lie in and when she checked the digital clock on her bedside table once she arose from her deep slumber, she saw it was close to 11am. She decided it was time to face the world and couldn’t hide any longer.

“Alexa, open the blinds.” The automated blinds came to life and with a soft whirring noise, it let the sunlight into the spacious cream coloured room. Closing her eyes briefly to allow them a relief from the bright rays, she patted around the bed for her phone. When her attempts were fruitless, she sighed in defeat before getting out of bed to look around the room for it. Not seeing it anywhere, she slid her feet onto her soft slippers and moved to the living room. She had success as she found it face up on the sofa. She tapped on the screen to bring it to life but it didn’t work. Letting out a groan, realising the phone had run out of battery, she moved to the kitchen island and planted her phone on top of the wireless charger. Leaving it to collect power so she could turn it on, she used the time to make her morning smoothie.

Ten minutes later, she sat on one of the high stools by her kitchen island with a large glass of avocado and banana smoothie. She turned the phone on, making sure to keep it on the wireless charger. She saw that she had missed calls and clicked on the Phone app to see who had tried to get in touch. Some were older notifications she had dismissed like the missed calls from Sian and Emma. There were also recent missed calls from Rachel, Eun Ji and Joshua. Joshua didn’t normally call so she assumed he was concerned about her non-reply.

As she wondered if it was finally time to grow up and call Joshua, her phone began to ring. It was an unsaved number but Y/N recognised it straight away. It was an incoming call from SEVENTEEN’s main Manager, Shim Jae Hyun. He’d been the first person she’d spoken to after Seungcheol had sent her the text to break up and blocked her number immediately after. Y/N could still remember the pity in his voice as he’d told her that Seungcheol had informed him of the breakup, and had asked that Y/N not contact anyone related to himself. Y/N had responded with a distressed ‘I understand’ and had immediately cut the call.

Since then, she hadn’t spoken to anyone related to Seungcheol, including the members. Some of the members, particularly Vernon and Seungkwan, had tried to speak to her when they became aware of the break up but she’d already blocked them. The only remaining connection was Joshua and even then, she didn’t pick up or answer his calls. They hadn’t spoken since the day before the break up, when Y/N had called him from the airport to confirm she’s boarding and to ask him to check in on Seungcheol. Despite his persistent attempts, Y/N hadn’t spoken to Joshua since that day. He eventually gave up and stopped calling her and would send the occasional texts to see how she was, which she would read but not respond to. Seeing the two ticks to show she was reading it was good enough for him. It’s what he’d pleaded for her to do at the very least.

She assumed Jae Hyun-nim was calling due to the statement that had been published. She let the call go to voicemail and instead took a screenshot with his number displayed and sent it off to Emma and Sian, knowing one of them would contact him. She didn’t want to have a dialogue with PLEDIS or HYBE and Sian had stressed that everything should go through her or Emma. She put the phone back on the charging pad and returned to her room to pack her bag, knowing she had a flight to NYC that evening. Lily, Sian’s first assistant since Emma’s official promotion a year ago, had sent over the flight ticket details as well as some outfit options for Y/N to choose from her various interviews in NYC. Lily would organise it so any of the outfits Y/N selects would be delivered to the JW Marriott Essex House hotel in Upper East Side, where she would be staying this time. Normally, would have a longer visit and so would have gone for one of their long stay apartments but the impromptu plans meant she would be staying in one of Marriott’s hotels instead. The next few hours passed in a blur and Y/N found herself once again on a plane.

25 January 2024

The black Porsche Cayenne lit up as the engine turned on. The car was a Christmas present to herself and she’d be paying it off for the next few years but Y/N was in love. She loved driving and one of the first things she organised was to ship her car to Seoul as soon as she decided on her move and yet, it only arrived a few days ago. Y/N was excited to take the car for a spin, having been taking taxis whenever she needed to leave her flat. She’d spent the first week in Seoul setting up the place whilst staying with Eun Ji and had to then relearn her bearings when she officially moved in. The three weeks since landing in Seoul had been tremendously busy and Y/N was excited to have a night to relax and catch up with a friend. Joshua had returned to the country only a few days ago after wrapping up the last concert of the Follow Tour in Macau. The two had been keeping each other up to date on life but it wasn’t the same as talking in person. Their last meeting hadn’t been the personal catch up they had originally planned for so to have some time together where they could speak more openly was much needed.

Y/N arrived first at the Mexican restaurant in Itaewon and had immediately ordered some nachos for the pair to munch on whilst they caught up and debated what to order. She’d just taken a sip of her virgin Pina Colada when Joshua walked in. Y/N enveloped Joshua in a warm hug, and they stayed in the embrace for a few seconds, soaking in the comfort they gave each other. As they parted, Joshua grasped Y/N’s right hand tightly and shook it in excitement.

“I can’t believe you’re now living in Seoul!”

“Me neither, Joshie!”

He looked at her tenderly before letting go of her hand to ruffle her hair as usual. She’d given up dodging this move, knowing that it was his way of showing affection. She grinned at him, the smile stretching across her face all the way to her eyes which had shrunk to accommodate the happy expression. A waiter arrived with their nachos and the pair took their seats. Joshua ordered a Margarita. They spent the next hour catching up candidly with no inhibitions in between taking sips of their drinks and crunching on the nachos. They’d ordered more drinks and food, Y/N choosing to stay sober as she didn’t trust a stranger to drive her car. It was another thing for her to become accustomed to in time but she wasn’t quite ready for that yet.

Joshua was feeling light, having let off a load from his shoulders. He’d met Y/N at a time when he really needed a friend who was removed from his world but would yet understand his trials. They were less than six months apart in age but often, he felt she was the older one and by many years. Maybe it came from their different life journeys. They’d both had their own challenges to overcome and different demons to fight. She saw him so clearly that he often felt she was his soulmate, like a twin who shared the same heart and mind. Their closeness after such a short period led to misconceptions initially, even from his bandmates. He’d been asked if they were dating, Coups being the latest one to quiz him on this when he’d shared his plans to meet Y/N. Joshua shared this anecdote with Y/N, laughing without restraint at the idea. Y/N looked disgusted at the idea, wondering what was wrong with everyone. She begged Joshua to make sure he set everyone straight.

“Don’t worry, I told him you’re like a sister. Your bias won’t have the wrong idea, so don’t hurt your pea brain worrying.”

She glared at the teasing, huffing at the elder.

“Who’s the pea brain here! I’m not the one who mistranslated that time we were out …”

The banter continued, the two bickering away, fully immersed in their own world. It was nearing 9pm when Joshua received a call.

“Coups-yah. What’s up? Me? I’m in XXX restaurant in Itaewon with Y/N. Oh, you’re nearby?”

Joshua looked at Y/N with a sly smile as he hung up on the phone. Y/N was immediately on alert.

“What have you done, Hong Jisoo?”

“Where are your manners? It’s Jisoo Oppa!”

“Pfft. Manners, my ass. I know you’ve done something that’s about to piss me off. Out with it, Joshie. Don’t test my kindness.”

He shrugged and put on an innocent look, widening his eyes and shaking his head, saying he had no idea what she was talking about. She threw a fry at his face, unfortunately missing the mark widely. This made Joshua crack up in giggles and Y/N reluctantly joined in, unable to hold on to her irritation. Y/N was going to suggest that they call it a night and head home when the bell by the door jingled. Joshua, who was facing the door, stuck his neck out to see who it was and his eyes lit up in recognition. He waved his hand at the newcomer and Y/N twisted in her seat to see who it was. It was S.Coups and with him was Jeonghan.

“Did you miss me that much? You saw me only a few hours ago when we did the Weverse live.”

Joshua said to S.Coups as the 95 liners reunited in front of Y/N. The waitress arrived and relocated them to a bigger table at the back, hiding them away from the rest of the customers. As they all took their new seats, Y/N bowed at Jeonghan and S.Coups and greeted them. She asked after their health and asked if they’d eaten. S.Coups, who was sitting opposite her, nodded whilst Jeonghan responded, “Coups bought me an expensive dinner. I wanted to go home and rest afterwards but this guy-”

Before Jeonghan could finish his sentence, S.Coups began speaking. He asked about her move and if she was properly settled in her flat.

Y/N was surprised he knew the details and it must have shown on her face, as he felt the need to clarify that he’d heard from Shua. When she looked at Joshua, he had a devious smirk on his face.

“I didn’t know you paid so much attention to what I say, Coups-yah. Jeonghan-ah, did you know Coups paid this much attention to me?”

Jeonghan, who suddenly looked wide awake, seemed to have caught on to whatever track Joshua was on and enthusiastically exclaimed, “I didn’t know either, Joshuji. I don’t remember you telling us about Y/N’s move and this is my first time seeing you since you came back.”

Turning to his left, he questioned when S.Coups had heard the news. Y/N was a little perplexed about this entire conversation. She didn’t understand why it was such a big deal but she did realise that the angel, who was really a devil in disguise when he was up to his tricks, and his best friend were on the same page and up to something. It seemed that S.Coups had also sensed the danger and looked panic for a second before saying that it might have been Vernon who mentioned it, he couldn’t remember.

Feeling sorry for the man in front of her as he pouted, she decided to answer his question to move the conversation along.

“I’ve just about settled in and I was saying to Josh earlier that my car finally arrived so I feel like I’m finally set. I’m about to abandon all of it for two weeks though. I’ll be in Japan travelling to Tokyo, Sapporo and Okinawa for work from Monday onwards.”

S.Coups nodded again at her and gave her a thousand watts thankful smile. Y/N felt her heart stutter like her old car used to whenever she’d try to speed and the sem-automatic would whine as it stayed stuck in the lower gear. His smile was too blinding and Y/N had to avert her gaze to her glass, fiddling with the stem of it as she tried her best to calm the flutters.

“Oh, you didn’t tell me you were flying out so soon! We’re on holiday for the next few weeks so I thought I could show you all my favourite places.”

Joshua was disappointed at the missed opportunity. Y/N reassured him they had plenty of time and that she’d be back on the 10th. The group enjoyed a few more drinks and Y/N slowly loosened up as she got used to the presence of the others. She didn’t see Joshua as a member of SEVENTEEN on most days. To her, he’d become family and so she didn’t get the nervousness that she got in the presence of the rest of the members. Yoon Jeonghan was too beautiful to be real and it was intimidating.

And then there was S.Coups. Well, no explanation was really needed here. This was someone she admired and found attractive. It was just a celebrity crush, she’d thought. Although she had her head screwed on and knew what she saw wasn’t a full picture of any celebrity, with S.Coups, so much of it was real. She’d gotten to know him through Joshua and the couple of interactions they did have, she’d felt sparks. She knew it was all one-sided and with time, she’d get over it. But right now, she couldn’t be sensible about it. It was the way he would stare deeply into her eyes when she spoke giving his full attention, or the way he’d poured her a glass of water when he noticed her glass was empty, or even how the corners of his mouth would twitch in amusement whenever he caught her sneaking glances at him as Jeonghan told a funny story. She was deeply attracted to the man in front of her. His tight black t-shirt and rich perfume pulled her in. When she caught herself leaning forward one too many times, she knew it was time to go home. She pulled the typical I’m-going-to-freshen-up-but-really-pay-the-bill act and found herself scolded by a whiny Joshua as they all walked her to her car.

She saw the tired, droopy frame of Jeonghan and told them all to get in, saying she’d drop them off. They tried to refuse the offer but Jeonghan must have been really tired because he got in quickly after thanking Y/N. Joshua sat upfront and inputted the address for the dorm.

“Coups-yah, are you going to stay at the dorm tonight?”

It took a beat for S.Coups to answer and the others realised he’d wanted to return to the place he shared with his brother. He said he’d call a taxi from the dorm.

“I can drop you off, I really don’t mind.”

Y/N turned into the apartment complex that housed SEVENTEEN members. Joshua and Jeonghan got out of the car and S.Coups followed. He seemed to have a non-verbal conversation with Joshua before he turned back to Y/N and asked if she was sure. She nodded and smiled gently in response.

He lightly hugged the members goodnight before getting back in the car, this time in the front seat. Joshua called out for her to text him when she got home safely and then headed in.

“And then there were two.”

“Sorry?”

“Oh, sorry. It’s a phrase in English that people would usually say when a big group would suddenly get smaller.”

She explained as she manoeuvred out of her parking spot. She pulled off and started driving towards the main road as S.Coups set the navigation to direct her to his brother’s place. It was a 20 minute drive and Y/N told herself she can behave for that long. They drove in silence that had started off comfortable but soon became filled with tension till it was stifling. She cleared her throat and suggested that S.Coups put on music if he’d like.

“You can turn on the radio or you can use my Spotify. My phone is connected via Bluetooth.”

She quickly unlocked it with her fingerprint and gestured for him to take it. He’d looked slightly stunned at her nonchalance as she gave him access to her phone. He timidly took the phone from the stand it was resting on and scrolled through the app. In the meantime, it began to play from where she’d left off earlier. Red Velvet described the throes of a crush and the longing to greet them again through the song ‘Hello, Sunset’ and Y/N blushed as she listened on. How fitting that this is the song that plays, she thought. She saw him tap along to the music as he scrolled through her phone. Their journey was elongating thanks to the traffic that was building up as the Saturday night deepened. As the song drew to a close, he tapped on the song he’d searched for and Dino’s voice blasted through the speakers. How cute, she thought as she realised he’d chosen to listen to the maknae’s mixtape, ‘Wait’. He bobbed his head along as they listened. The car had come to a standstill in front of the traffic.

“I really love this song.”

“Yes, maknae did a good job.” The pride in his voice was clear. She hummed in agreement.

“I’m sorry. Because of me, you’re delayed.”

He apologised suddenly and Y/N found herself lost in his intense stare again when she'd looked at him to respond. She inaudibly mumbled that it wasn’t a problem and that she’s going the same way. It was as if her ears had popped, all noise surrounding them dampened whilst the sound of her heartbeat grew thunderous. She couldn’t even blink, worried he’d disappear if she closed her eyes for a second. He lowered his eyes, breaking the hold on her briefly as they dipped down to her lips before returning to arrest her again. He held her breath as a prisoner. Was she imagining it or was the distance between them slowly narrowing? She had no thoughts. Her brain simply wasn’t functioning to think if this was a good idea or not. Their noses were nearly brushing when they jumped apart when the car behind honked its horn. Y/N realised the queue had eased and quickly put the car in motion. S.Coups turned to look outside the side window, his expression hidden from Y/N when she tried to take a glimpse.

They arrived at S.Coups’ place a few minutes later. Tablo’s version of ‘Eyes, Nose, Lips’ played in the background as both occupants of the car stalled, not sure whether to mention the moment shared earlier. In the end, both had decided to ignore it. S.Coups thanked Y/N for the lift. He’d gotten out of the car and walked around to her side, leaning down to speak to her. A breeze sent her a whiff of his perfume again.

“Well … thanks again.” Y/N smiled but didn’t say anything.

“I should get going. I mean, you should get going. It’s late.”

She nodded and bowed at him to take leave from the driver’s seat. She was about to roll up her windows when he called her name. With no formalities. The butterflies instantly multiplied.

“Y/N. Text me to say you’ve made it home?” It was a question but it wasn’t. She nodded, slowly then quickly.

“I saved my number on your phone. I, uh, I didn’t send myself your number.”

Who was this shy man? Was he the same person with the deep voice and passionate eyes?

“Sleep well.”

Y/N placed her keys in the enamel dish by the entrance, took off her boots and walked to her room. She texted Joshua to confirm she’d made it and wished him a goodnight. She paused for a second before she searched through her contacts. She found the newly saved number under Coups.

Saturday 27 January Hi, it’s Y/N. I made it home safely. Have a good night. 23:20 Goodnight. 23:21

A week later, Y/N was getting ready for her first date with S.Coups.

#caratsland #seventeen #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #s.coups #seungcheol x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #svt #svt x reader #svt imagines #s.coups x reader #s.coups imagines #s.coups scenarios #choi seungcheol #my writing #hello sunset

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dawnagustd · 1 year

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I have only read the warnings for hours and chilleee I'm here for it.

But uhm, reader twerking to unholy while jk sings it :) please and thank you

pairing: jungkook x f!reader

genre: neighbors au | fwbs | hours!couple

rating: 18+

word count: like 600

author's note: this takes place before the Hours drabble. This can be read as a stand alone.

Hours Couple character asks and scenarios are open.

Jungkook knows his neighbors hate him. He doesn't care that the landlord's been on his ass about the several noise complaints.

How can he? When he's got a view like this.

"She be poppin' it."

This is the only reason he buys beer and food on Wednesdays. The only reason he's treating this like a big performance.

You've come a long way in a month. Those classes are sure worth the money. Honestly, he never cared whether you could twerk or not, but now that you can, he can't get enough.

"Aye, come here." He grabs a belt loop on your jeans and pulls you back when you try to walk off. "You aren't done."

When he's grinding against you, he isn't surprised by how quickly you fall back in place. You enjoy being on his dick just as much as he likes to watch.

He knows you feel him growing in his shorts. It's only a matter of time before it's become too much to bear.

Your shirt rises slightly due to your movement, and he can't resist the urge to caress your warm skin. A bit of perspiration on your flesh makes it challenging, but he keeps his grip firm.

Both of you are tipsy. That's why it seems hotter than it really is. He'll drop the temp in a moment, but right now, he's gotta kill the second verse.

"Mmm, daddy, daddy, if you want it, drop the add'y."

You had no business moaning those words like that. Now he's tongue-tied, and there's no way he can focus on singing.

You're fucking incredible. Nice body, a pretty face... and your personality drives him crazy. You don't mind hanging out with him and doing weird shit, or do you mind fucking all night. He wants you, officially. But he'll be patient. You'll be ready one day.

Until then, he'll take what he can get.

"Fuck."

Jungkook bites his lip while he watches you throw it back on him. He'd blow his load in his pants if he didn't have to fuck you in a few.

It's time to wrap this up. If you want unholy, he can give you that. Well, a taste of it. You aren't ready for the real thing yet.

"Baby," he calls, grabbing your hair and pulling your face close to his. You look back with those big glossy eyes, ready for anything he asks of you. "Give me a kiss."

You gently place your soft lips on his, but he isn't looking for that right now. His tongue smoothly enters your mouth. Maybe you were expecting that because you parted your lips at the right moment.

When his hand falls to your waist, you turn around and wrap your arms around his neck.

The next few minutes are filled with you both clawing at each other, him grabbing on your ass, and lips smacking against each other as the two of you sloppily make out in his living room until the song fades out and it is silent.

A thin line of saliva stretches and snaps when the kiss breaks. Jungkook probably stares at your juicy lips a little too long because you call his name once it becomes awkward.

"You good?" you ask.

He's never been better.

"Yup, go to my room and wait for me," he replies. "I'll go get us another drink, yeah?"

"Hell yeah!"

You take off running toward his bedroom. He knows you'll be naked when he gets there. That's why he has to go cool himself down, so he doesn't come too early.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts x reader #bts smut #fic: hours #asks #namjinsmoonchile #sugakookitty

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throwaway-yandere · 2 years

Text

Blind Obedience (Yandere!Ayato/Reader)

unreliable synopsis: ayato tries to ask reader out but fails lol.

afab reader

cw: yandere themes: possessive behavior. drugging & power imbalance. non-consensual touching.

a/n: as always i dont fricking condone this crap it's for entertainment purposes. please seek help if you are in a similar situation in real life

Continuation

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

Your job as one of the Yashiro Commissioner, Kamisato Ayato's, "official" retainers is unnecessarily glamorized by your family. In all honesty, it is far less honorable than what they make it out to be. Then again, that's probably because you haven't come home in a while so there's nothing for them to brag about.

Fetching umbrellas, handing paperwork, managing schedules, delivering lunches– your work is duller than what the ninjas go through. Your job is essentially to be the bodyguard on display beside Lord Kamisato. Occasionally you fight alongside him but that is few and far in between when the man is plenty competent. There were nights when you felt your sword was wasted in serving Ayato. Your blade dulls whenever you open an umbrella for your Lord, but you seem to forget about it the second you see him smile.

Free time is not a finite resource either. You and Thoma joke that you might as well be Ayato's second housekeeper with all the extra domestic work you volunteer. Oftentimes Thoma insinuates that you act less of a retainer and more of the commissioner's spouse, but you just found the notion demeaning and crossed the line. Your relationship is strictly business, and Thoma knows that.

Today is a rare occasion where you perform your duties in public. You stood beside Ayato with a blade at your hip. This time, Thoma was walking behind Ayaka instead of chatting the day away with you.

In all honesty, the scene looked like the Kamisato siblings were just taking their dogs out for a walk.

"Greetings Lord and Lady Kamisato. What brings you to this humble abode? Please accept my apologies. If I heard that you would be my guests this evening I would've been more hospitable. After all, I'm sure you've heard, but I am not bound to a land of my own."

The man tilted his hat up to meet your gaze.

Kaedehara Kazuha: one of the last living remnants of his fallen clan. You've had a chance to meet thrice before, and you found his company quite comforting. Each encounter was memorable. You both ended up talking for hours regarding haikus and other artistic endeavors without a care for the clock. He was like your key to connecting with nature with the way he plays his tunes, and you loved every second of it.

Kazuha doesn't appear to have been moved by time. The only things that changed were his height and the Sandogasa his head had been sporting– a motif that showed his feet had never stayed in one place too long.

It's comforting to know that he stands before you when everything around him and his family vanished into the wind.

His sandals imprinted the sand as he walked toward your group. He closed his eyes, feeling the air.

"Lord Kamisato, you still smell like morning dew. Yet, is this the scent of red ginseng I sense?"

Red ginseng? The anti-oxidant?

Ayato cleared his throat, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. He doesn't appear pleased by that comment.

"There is no need to be modest, Lord Kaedehara." Ayato smiled. "We are here to see how you are fairing after all. I am compelled to feel as though it is my duty to support you whenever we can."

"Hmm, I see," Kazuha smiled, slightly fanning a stray leaf to his face. "But I highly doubt that is the end of it. The wind whispers to me... and I have reasons to believe that you are not here only to seek out answers regarding my well-being, is that right?"

Ayato nodded.

"My apologies. I'm not well-versed in the art of small talk. Shall I head straight to the point?"

"I'd appreciate it, so long as you stop referring to me as a Lord." Kazuha sighed. "I never became one and I don't have plans to."

"Mister Kaedehara, my brother has a few requests he would like to make," Ayaka raised her hand. "It has everything to do with your ancestor's blacksmithing techniques."

"Oh," Kazuha opened his mouth, surprised. "So you're here for Haran? I see."

The wind blew against the yumemiru trees.

"In that case," Kazuha looked at you and smiled. "May I have a word with Lady Kamisato and Miss (Y/n) in exchange?"

Ayato's eyes narrowed.

"Why (Y/n)?"

You stared at Ayato.

"I figured I can gauge how worthy you are through the Shirasagi Himegimi's retainer," Kazuha said. Ayato barely held back a scoff.

"She's mine."

You wish you saw the expression on your lord's face. His voice did not betray any emotion besides conviction.

No one spoke for a while. You saw Thoma from the corner of your eye opening his mouth before shutting it.

"Well, that speaks volumes," Kazuha laughed softly.

"A shame. She would be a better fit to serve Lady Kamisato."

You, Ayaka, and Thoma nearly reacted inappropriately at his boldness. Such a frank stance was not a common attribute of Kazuha's flowery speech. Things are not going favorably. He may be a bit eccentric, but the Kamisato Clan cannot afford to miss this opportunity.

You spoke up. "I would be fine with the arrangement as long as Lord and Lady Kamisato is alright with it."

Ayato raised an eyebrow. "It is not about whether or not you will be fine with it–"

"My brother and I agree with this arrangement as well," Ayaka said. Ayato no longer objected after her intervention. She smiled softly.

"It's a pleasant day for a walk, wouldn't you agree, Mister Kaedehara? There's a pleasant breeze and glorious sunshine. So, where shall we head off?"

------

Ayaka was right when she mentioned that the wind will be pleasant at this time of day. Opting to avoid any of her brother's ears, she chose an area with no walls to eavesdrop from. The beach in Ritou offers crashing waves and distant sounds of unruly children, perfect for background noises.

"Did you truly ask for (Y/n) to know more about my brother?" Ayaka pulled out a fan and covered her lips. Even so, it did not hide a mischievous glint in her eyes. She seems to know more than you, considering how Kazuha flushed red.

"Why does my presence matter so much?" You joked.

Kazuha laughed. "Is it hard to believe?"

"Well, after you told us I'd be better off serving Lady Ayaka," You shrugged. "Sort of."

"It's the truth, though," he said. "I think you'd be better off as Lady Kamisato's retainer, especially with your talents."

Ayaka nodded. Your eyes widened. Lady Kamisato thought you're competent enough to work for her?

"I… Didn't know you felt that way My Lady"

"Work with Lord Kamisato may be as constant as flowing water, but drinking from that stream will be akin to sleep to the freezing, especially in your case, (L/n)," Kazuha added. There is subtle stress in his tone. One you didn't quite understand at the time.

"... I didn't understand a word you just said but it sounded like a lèse-majesté just now."

Kazuha didn't understand that Fontaine term. "Let's just say I have some reservations."

"Towards the Kamisato Clan?" Ayaka asked.

"No," Kazuha said. "I have no qualms with you and your connections, Shirasagi Himegimi."

"Are you seeking redemption for your Clan?"

"Oh, you'd be wrong to assume that," Kazuha smiled softly "I doubt I'd need what my Clan had in store for me even if I did revive it. We were but a subordinate clan to the Kamisatos, after all. Plus, I relish the freedom I have today."

"Then why hesitate?" You asked.

Kazuha answered without missing a beat.

"Because Loyalty does not equate to Blind Obedience."

--------

After that rough start, the conversation went by smoothly when Ayaka boasted about her brother's repertoire. Although both Ayaka and Kazuha did most of the talking, you were more than satisfied. You did your actual job. Not one of a housekeeper. A sense of pride coursed through your body each time passing children looked at your sword in awe. It's childish, but you missed those silly boosts of confidence. Truly makes you feel like you earned your rice and salary.

As it happens, Kazuha didn't ask for your company just to learn more about Ayato alone either. You can't help but smile when recalling your chat with him after Ayaka left.

But it's not the time nor place to be giddy. Quite frankly, it's a bit embarrassing to grin about your private life when your boss walks beside you.

"Escorting my Lady and Mister Kaedehara went by without a hitch," you reported. "It's all just things you've heard before, My Lord. How you are skilled with multiple weapons in your arsenal and the like."

"Then why the smile?"

…

"Pardon me, My Lord?"

"You were smiling non-stop when you came back." He said nonchalantly. "What else were you three talking about?"

"O-Oh. My apologies, Lord Kamisato. In truth, the conversation also got lively and we took turns talking about our experiences with poetry writing."

You cleared your throat, cheeks flushed over the two's previous remarks earlier. "Though, i-it's nothing important."

You're an awful liar.

"Hmm. You seem to have enjoyed being in their company a lot. Do you forget where your loyalties lie?" Ayato teased, but his eyes do not match the playfulness of his tone.

"Of course not my lord. I DID enjoy their company, but my loyalties lie forever with the Kamisato Clan."

"For someone who claims equal loyalty, you seemed as if you favor Ayaka's presence the most."

"Well," you coughed awkwardly. "She is a very cooperative and an easy person to get along with, My Lord."

In other words, Ayato is the troublesome sibling in your eyes.

Ayato paused. As usual, his expression was unreadable.

In truth, Ayato was seething the moment he saw you return to the area with hands playing with your hair, talking so unreservedly with the Kaedehara vagabond.

He closed his eyes while wearing a plagiarized smile. You had worked for him three months earlier than Thoma, yet your loyalties waver more than his. What had caused it to do so? The dilemma is sending the Kamisato Clan Head's mind into a manic frenzy.

Kazuha's comment stuck with him. Ayato admits, with your resume you are far more useful to his sister than himself. His sister is surely aware of that. Your eye for aesthetics and crafts could serve to help Ayaka's workload.

But he needs you more than Ayaka needs you. It's selfish, but if his sister were to come to his room tonight to negotiate, he would drown her voice out with the paperwork. Ayato adores his sister, and she's likely the only person who can convince him to stop.

Was he not enough? What happened and why is your smile more downright mesmerizing than before? It makes him want to pull his hair right out of his scalp. What did Ayaka and Kaedehara Kazuha discuss with you to get you to blush as red as a maple leaf?

You hadn't uttered a single word– why are you staring at him with visible confusion?

His chest ached. Had he been a lesser man, he knew that his hands would've been on her shoulders, screaming to rile up an answer from you.

Ayato sighed exasperatedly. He can't do that. No matter how high he rises into power, the oath he shared with his father weighs more than these unsavory emotions. Besides, he believed he is far more tasteful than the feral beast he imagined himself to be. Be that as it may, just because he is an elegant man does not mean he is free from these feral fantasies. He does admit that the thought of intimidating you into submitting to him, and him alone, was incredibly tempting. Especially when he is painfully aware that you are both alone with not one of his ninjas and or servants, save for yourself, in the vicinity.

------

"What do you live for, (L/n)?"

A sword slithered under your jaw, still and calculated as it slowly poked upwards and drew blood. However, you did not falter. You remind yourself that your Lord gets a kick out of seeing people squirm. You gazed up to your lord's eyes and gave a small untroubled smile.

"I live to serve, my Lord."

"And who is it that you serve?"

"The Kamisato Clan," you said. "And the Kamisato Clan alone."

"Good," he sheathed his sword back and ruffled your hair. Ayato looked relieved. "Good girl."

You didn't say a word. You continued to kneel. It wasn't until the next morning when you finally stood up under Lady Kamisato's orders.

You're a dog, yes. But you are the Kamisato Clan's dog.

-------

Now that he recalled who (L/n) (Y/n) truly belongs, the box weighed like jade steel in his pocket.

"Must I truly share you with my sister?" He muttered. "With the rest of the clan?"

You did not hear the words he mumbled behind his sleeves. Even if you had, you doubt you would've understood the connotations behind his pained musings.

"I'm sorry My Lord, may I ask for you to repeat that?"

"Think nothing of it," Ayato said. "It's just a throwaway comment. (Y/n), let us move. We have far more pressing matters to attend to."

You flipped the next page of his schedule. Ayato couldn't help but smile when he saw your face scrunched over reading it. "The pressing matters of your... Tea time with (Y/n), My Lord?– Wait hol'up, I thought I had the evening off?"

Ayato cracked up a smile. He always found it endearing whenever you break out of your retainer persona.

"Yes, well, now that you have your evening off," Ayato reached his hand out. "Would you like to have tea with me, (Y/n)? Of course, I'm inviting you as Ayato, and not the commissioner so take it easy. I bought only the finest and most creative snacks."

He did not miss how your positive expression was deterred by the word "creative". This was Kamisato Ayato, after all. It is part of his perverse desires to awe at the sight of his opponents and most beloved ones squirm at his little schemes.

"A-Actually, My Lord." You coughed behind your fist, "My sincerest apologies, but I must decline. I have an... event to attend to."

"Oh."

Something inside his head cracked.

Another alarming sign. Just a few hours after mentioning that you prefer his sister's company over his, you added more salt to his wound by prioritizing someone else over him? After he planned for this date weeks prior with his packed schedule? Of course– you wouldn't be aware that this was a date all along, he can't be bothered to scare you of what this event officially was in his head, but it burned as much as hearing you reject his (unspoken) confession.

And here he thought the only thing left getting in the way was his sister. Laughable.

"If I may ask, what could you be possibly doing at these late hours, my beloved?"

You scoffed.

Was it that hard to believe that you have plans for the evening?

Well, yes, it was.

"My beloved?" You copied incredulously.

Ayato opened his mouth to digress, but you seemed to shrug it off easily. Too easily.

If he found it difficult to believe you were busy, you found it just as difficult to think he was ever genuine with his affections towards you.

"I don't know what's gotten into you today, Ayato." You said. "But if you MUST know, someone asked me out. On a real date."

He can tell. Kamisato Ayato is not an idiot. He just chose to ignore the signs. But it hurts to hear you say it so unashamedly proud.

"With who?"

"Well, aren't you unusually nosy today?" You laughed.

"It is not worthy of your concern, My Lord– Come to think of it... I heard Madarame isn't busy right now, and last time we talked, he said he hadn't tasted Tomoki's creative cooking before!" You beamed. "Of course, he made me promise not to tell our Lord Kamisato Ayato that, and won't you look at that, I'm talking to myself again! Oh dear, I should stop before SOMEONE hears me. I don't want to break a promise, after all!~"

Had it been any other day, he would've gladly taken this innocent bait.

His gaze softened.

"Hmm. Yes. Very noble of you, (Y/n). I sure hope nobody important heard a word of what you just said." He answered playfully.

"Hmm hmm!" You nodded along. "It would be a real shame if something unfortunate happened to our dear Representative after all!"

"Yes– Since we do not wish for anything bad to happen to our dear Madarame," Ayato placed a hand on your shoulder. His touch was light, but it weighed heavy on your shoulder.

You know him so well. He smirked.

But not enough.

"Tell me, (Y/n), will you not 'take one for the team' and accompany your eccentric Lord Kamisato Ayato this evening instead?"

"A-Ayato..." You gritted your teeth while smiling widely. He too had a fake smile on his face as he awaited your response. "It would be rude to keep my date waiting."

"I'll send Hisashi to tell whoever your obviously-non-existent date is that you can't afford to come then," Ayato said. You stiffened. "Do not lie to me. We both know you use my workload as an excuse to avoid family gatherings."

"Well. Damn." You laughed humourlessly. "Is that why Hisashi isn't with us? Did you send him off to track my date down?"

As it happens, that mind of yours is a double-edged sword.

You looked over his shoulder. Normally, Hisashi would make his presence known to you by waving slightly. Your smile fell. Thankfully he is not on duty that evening, which leads you to assume something disappointing. It was a bluff, but you didn't know that. Instead, you thought Ayato sent him to stalk your date moments prior. This is funny for someone who accused you of dating a fictional person.

"So, I was right," You muttered. "My Lord– Do you not trust me?"

Ayato's fingers slowly wrapped themselves around your shoulders.

"More precisely, I don't trust whoever this date of yours is," he said. "After all, we are not free from the Fatui's watchful eyes."

"It's just Kazuha."

He paused.

"Just... Kazuha?"

Since when were you two on a first-name basis?

Not knowing how to register his tone, you nodded with a "comforting" smile. "Yes. He asked me to accompany him to Inazuma City today. Is there a problem with that, My Lord?"

Ayato bit his cheek. It appears that an unwanted guest has been sniffing around his possessions. To have the audacity to proclaim he smelled like ginseng and to steal (Y/n) twice this evening, he's surely trying to challenge the commissioner.

"Cancel it."

"Excuse me?"

"Cancel your plans."

"My Lord I–"

"I cleared my entire schedule for your birthday and when you were ill to personally tend to your fever last month, did I not?"

Ayato deadpanned, causing you to shiver. There was a clear-cut venom laced in his voice that you were rarely subjected to. The way he said it made it seem like you owe him your affections, and partly that would be correct. Despite his offer of spending the evening with you as Ayato, your friend, the way he speaks now is reminiscent of Kamisato Ayato, the head of the Shuumatsuban Operations. This is his way of keeping you on your toes by calling you a spoiled brat without explicit mention.

Who are you to question your master's wishes?

"This is the least you could do for me in return."

You didn't dare look at his eyes.

"... Of course, My Lord."

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

As expected, your Lord's fingertips whisked you away to Komore Teahouse.

Beforehand, Ayato walked alongside you as you sheepishly informed Kazuha of your cancelation. He didn't look disappointed nor angry. Instead, the wandering samurai's expression resembled more of fear and pity.

Kazuha wanted to say more, but Ayato was quick to steer you away. He ordered you to wait at the teahouse with specific orders of not peeking inside the hot pots until he came back. Ayato mentioned something about Kazuha's friend in Tenshukaku but you didn't get the rest of the details before Ayato shooed you away. You begrudgingly agreed and left.

"Ah, welcome back Lord K– Ayato."

He didn't reply.

Ayato immediately sat down. Not in front of you, but beside you. He opened the pots and placed the lids elsewhere. The commissioner started pouring two cups of red liquid by your side, being uncannily quiet as he does so.

"... Ayato?"

"Why did you accept?"

"Accept what?"

"Kaehara's offer." Ayato refused to face you. He slipped the first cup closer to you and you reluctantly grabbed it.

"He's a good honest man." You blatantly told him.

"And I'm not?!"

You both went silent after that outburst. You couldn't quite tell if he was joking since it was so out of character. It was very unusual that you nearly chuckled, but refrained once you saw his look of defeat.

That was real.

"Why... What?–..." Ayato laughed cheaply. Of course, he's far from an honest man. He had been branded the dirty name of a politician a long time ago.

You didn't know what to make of his behavior. Lord Kamisato is a bit strange– his oftentimes possessive actions came from a place of healthy skepticism. His work is deprived of loyalty and attachment, so you provided nothing else but that.

The Kamisato Clan still holds the leash to your collar.

"(Y/n)."

"Yes, Ayato?"

"Would you–..." He sighed. "Do you prefer working with my sister over me?"

"No."

It's a shame that you're an awful liar.

You grabbed the cup he prepared for you before his hand ghosted above it.

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course my Lord."

He lets go.

You took a sip. The drink was surprisingly a bit mellow. Bitter, yes, but there must've been loads of sugar to compensate. Still, it was strange. Is this ginseng?

You waited for Ayato for quite a long time. You were sure this drink will be lukewarm at best.

Why does it feel so warm?

"If you want to prove your loyalties," Ayato circled his cup. The red drink swirled as he stared directly at its vortex.

"Why aren't you obeying me?"

"M-my... L-lord..."

Drops of water fell down your thighs. Did you push off your cup? You can't tell. Something's flowing from your mouth.

It's your saliva.

Have you ever drooled this much before? Why are you drooling?

Heavy. Your head is heavy.

Ayato sits before you like a blob or hydro slime– you barely make out what words he spoke. Everything is warm. Something pressed your cheek and neck. Like a warm blanket covering your form.

Ayato stood up and slowly walked past you. You tried grabbing his ghostly sleeves but your dwindling strength failed you. Whatever you drank stripped most of your voice away, no matter how loud you cried, no coherent sentence came out.

You thought he had left you to wallow in your own self-pity until you felt ice on your chest.

"There..." Ayato whispered above your ear. His voice made you tremble between his arms as he dipped his head down the crook of your neck.

"You look even more breathtaking, my beloved. Do you like the necklace?"

You only figured out what he chained you with by the time you woke up used and filthy. It was a thin rosegold necklace with a hydro vision pendant inspired by his own. And you can't take it off, lest you want your fingers littered with water slices.

"Hel... Aya..."

"Hmm?"

Now that he's this close, you realized just how long his eyelashes are. His voice brushed against your neck. You cringed. Was there a box on top of the table before?

"Ah, I fear I may have overdone just how much ginseng I should add. Not to worry, it wouldn't impair your speech too long. You can tell me how much you appreciate it later."

"Aya..." Your willpower is latching on to the small chance that you'll be able to scream.

"Aya...ka..."

His fingers dug a few centimeters deeper down your throat. You coughed up. Ayato froze.

"Oh, my sincerest apologies." From the tone of his voice, it was far from that. Yet something tells you that he did not mean to squeeze your throat either.

His gloved thumb gently wiped your lips. "I slipped up. Do you want more to drink?"

"Ngh..."

Warm. So warm.

This sickness-- it was all too familiar.

You're almost certain you had this strange fever a month ago.

Ayato's grin did not change, but the revelation darkened your perspective. That was not a loving smile. Something more sinister lurks underneath, and you do not wish to unravel more than what was revealed.

This was not his first attempt to make you his.

You sobbed.

Ayato, you asshole.

"Right," he chuckled. His gloved hands started to slither around your collar and buttons. "You must be feeling too warm, here–"

"Part your lips for me, my beloved. Won't you obey– submit– to your husband this time around, (Y/n)?"

#yandere fanfiction #yandere genshin x reader #yandere ayato #yandere kamisato ayato #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #yandere genshin #yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere genshin impact #yandere #tag: blind obedience - ayato #ansy-writes

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accidentalshifter · 2 months

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[March 10, 2024: Now Entering Mystic Falls, Part One]

⚜️ TW: My Mikaelsons are a ✨️ problem ✨️ and don't play nice at all. Death, sex, blood, violence, manipulation, and dark themes will probably be present. I don't condone any of the actions taken by these vampires, I'm just recording them. For science. Also warning, I am TLDRing yet again.

Shifting Notes:

This is my first [awake, lucid] shift where I'm taking charge of the situation/piloting my DR-self (Zoey) like a Gundam mech suit. Using the Taglock Method, I've been able to focus on the specifics of where I'm going and when. I don't think it's foolproof, though. We'll see... For weeks now, I've been going through the source material of TVD. I figured that Mystic Falls would be the best place to start. After all, the Webb* estate is there. Hopefully, there'll be clues there, too.

Astrological timing: It was a new moon in Pisces. Saturn and Neptune was on either side of the moon in the same sign. Pisces is known as a natural dreamer. Saturn and Neptune solidify the dream. An excellent time for shifting.

*In my DR, the Webb estate is a property owned by my DR-self's family.

⚜️ In order to connect with my DR-self and pop into the TVD/Originals-verse, I decided to wear my hair up in a bun like Zoey Webb. I also added in a wooden chopstick just like her, both for connection & the added bonus of having a stabby little stake handy on my person. Can't be too careful. I learned from my [asleep] minishifts that the best time to jump into my DR-self is when she's busy or distracted so I tried focusing my inner-vision on a moment where she was as soon as I put on the taglock. (See: Taglock Method)

⚜️ The first thing that drifted into my mind was the song "No Roots" by Alice Merton & the blurred images of trees. Sustaining my focused trance, I put on the song and began listening to it in my CR. As soon as I did, the images crystallized, becoming much clearer than before. Zoey is sitting in a Greyhound bus, jamming out to music (she has ear buds in) while green forest flies past her outside the window. I begin to synchronize my CR self's movements to Zoey's. Suddenly, I'm in her body. Seeing everything from 1st person perspective.

Observation: I'm the exact opposite of Z. I am usually more reserved on public transit & don't listen to music while I'm traveling. I pay attention to my surroundings.

⚜️ The bus is empty save for a mother & her two children who're being A LOT and crying. A young dude with a skateboard and a man sitting more towards the front seats of the bus. He carries a briefcase with him. I'm in the back of the bus (something my DR-self & I have in common, I usually pick the back). At the climax of the song, I hear the muffled voice of the bus driver announcing to those onboard that we've officially entered Mystic Falls. "This is our last stop on the line. Please remember to take your stuff with you when you leave. You won't be able to recover your valuables if you forget them here. Last stop, Mystic Falls." The bus driver reiterates again for good measure.

⚜️ My DR-self takes out one ear bud to half listen to the end of what the bus driver was saying & then gets bored, continuing to jam out more to the end of the song. But out of the corner of our eyes, we see the stressed mom giving us a disapproving glare. We give her a little rueful, embarrassed smile. Before we can tone things down, however, we spot the "Welcome to Mystic Falls" sign from our side of the window. We in it now. There's no turning back for our stuff if we leave it here. As if making a huge point to underline that, "No Roots" ends.

⚜️ I feel something vibrate in my pocket. It's my cell phone alerting me to a text message from an "Angie." I would've opened the text, but Zoey's body overrides my influence, rolls her eyes, and ignores the message. She puts the cell phone back in her pant's pocket. RIP Angie, lolol. The bus driver announces again, "Now entering our lovely historic downtown Mystic Falls!". Then, he goes on to elaborate about how this cozy town has 'still retained its rustic charm throughout the decades it's been around'. He sounds like he wants to be a tour guide instead of a Greyhound driver...

⚜️ From outside my window, I see the huge, brick clocktower rising up before me on the horizon. I see old houses with wrap-around porches, white pillared entrances, and large sprawling yards. Eventually, that melts into storefronts and the Mystic Falls Square. It's a regular day here. As regular as any day in Mystic Falls can be. People are going about their business; walking through the Square, bustling around the storefronts. There's no town event being held here. But since MF is always commemorating something, I don't doubt there's a party happening somewhere. As the bus drives past the Mystic Grill, my DR-self (and I) peer at it from out our side of the window. Her with curiosity, me with...uh. Well, mixed feelings, to be honest. I notice a woman walking into the Grill just as the bus drives past it. It's no one I recognize from the show.

⚜️ The bus driver announces out loud again: "Last stop! Please, take all items with you & enjoy your stay in beautiful Mystic Falls, the homeliest town in all of Virginia!". When the bus finally comes to a complete stop, people start gathering their things & moving toward the exit. Since I'm in the back, sitting behind everyone, I have to wait for the others to go before me. It gives me (my CR-self) enough time to feel mild anxiety about disembarking because the moment I do, I'm sure the TVD drama will begin. As soon as the mom with her loud children make it to the front of the bus, I see my DR-self (Z) reach for a military canvas bag that's been sitting next to her on the empty seat. It looks beaten up, like it has seen way better days. There's hand-stitched, cloth patches on some parts of it where I'm guessing Zoey tried her best to repair it from being damaged. Also, I notice that the bag is all the items she has with her besides the ear buds & cell phone.

⚜️ My DR-self pauses as if she can feel my anxiety just before the exit, peering up at the LED destination sign that said "Mystic Falls" in loud, bright yellow. Both my DR/CR-self takes a synchronized deep breath and steel ourselves. 'Whelp, there's no turning back,' I hear my DR-self whisper under her breath. I respond back mentally with a 'Yup, we in it' despite knowing that "Z" probably can't hear me. I'm just a passenger inside her head and have *some* control over what she does. But not total control...

⚜️ The place the Greyhound drops everyone off at is behind the police station across the street from the Grill. There's a parking lot in the back of the police station, it's nearly full with cars. I get anxious again and nearly lose my connection with my DR-self. After a few calming breaths, however, I'm able to synch again with her. When I do, Z checks her cell phone & goes into her Google Mail. An email from "Nathaniel Pogue" is sitting there up on the top of the list. It looks like it's been read before. It's flagged as important. I influence Zoey to read the email again just so I can be a snoop. But also because it's starred. I only ever star things in my email when I need to remember not to forget an appointment...

⚜️ Bing, bing, bing! I'm right. The email was starred because it details a 3 pm meeting at Mathewson Realty where (Z) will be signing paperwork pertaining to the Webb estates. Apparently, today is the day she'll be signing the dotted line on the Deed of Ownership for all of William's properties and picking up the keys from Mr. Pogue. I notice on the phone that the time is already 3 pm. Great! My DR & CR self are both running late for our first scenario in Mystic Falls! Cue: us running (like a female anime protagonist late for her first day of high-school with toast in her mouth trope) towards Mystic Falls Square.

I hope being late for appointments isn't my "thing" in Mystic Falls. 😅 Anyways, y'all. I'll be posting [Part Two] of this shift ASAP. If you're still reading this, I appreciate that you got this far haha!

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cookiesupplier · 3 months

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A Friend Down In Hell - Part Six

pairing: Nick Folio x ofc (Ishtar)

warnings/tropes: slow burn, pining, idiot in love, language, drinking, mentions of violence, mentions of torture, mentions of religious mythology. (potentially more to be added)

summary: Folio can't quite tell you how long he's been dead, but it doesn't matter when he has friends like his, and Ishtar. Ishtar, with whom he fell in love the moment he met her. The problem? She doesn't know it. How does he convince a demon, who is practically immortal, to date him when he's dead? How did Ellie do it so easily?

author’s note: Unbetaed.. Enjoy!

tags: @spicywhenspeaking @tearfallpixie @cncohshit @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @lyschko666 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @sorrowsofsilence @collapsedglasshouses @vinyardmauro @dsireland86 @4rtificialfolio @emmmm127 @badomensls @agravemisstake

Tag lists are open, please let me know if you'd like to be added to this story, the Hell-Verse as a whole, or Everything

Ellie walked into the bar earlier much than she normally would, she was hoping to catch Ishtar before the bar officially opened to get a chance to talk to her, just for a moment maybe at least. See if she could find a way to talk to her outside the bar setting because talking to her over drinks would just be difficult with the other woman working back and forth all the time.. And her theory was starting to form that that was a very big part of Folio’s problem. If she was right, talking to her over drinks wouldn’t help the situation either.

Her theory? What if she didn’t want to ask someone, anyone even, out while at work, or the fact that she was always all over the place, she just didn’t feel grounded enough there. Either idea was valid as she saw it.. Even after all these years. So, Ellie hoped she could talk to her one-on-one, in a different place, away from the bar. Hence, not wanting to talk to her over drinks, and hoping to get her out of here another time.

Making her way in, the whole place felt different during the day, both brighter, and strangely, darker at the same time, and so much more depressing and lonely. It was because it was just, empty, none of the people that made the bar lively.

“Hey there doll face, we don’t open for a few more hours, but what can I do you for?”

The leering look at her, glancing across the room to a man that was wiping down one of the circular tables with a cloth, she knew him. Instantly Ellie pegged this asshole that was looking at her, as the manager, and it had nothing to do with the fact that the man standing across the room was human, looked to be about in his mid-twenties, not that that told her much. She’d learned since arriving in hell, the age you died, wasn’t necessarily the age you had to stay while you were here, she’d met a few people that had died of old age and chosen to regress to a happier physical age range. Kids, however, couldn’t just jump to be adults the moment they hit the streets, they at least had to age to be eighteen before they could alter their physical appearance.. Even Hell had a rule to protect the formative years despite their souls passing on.. Though most children didn’t take long to reincarnate. Second chances to start again.

“Hello, actually, I am here looking for Ishtar?”

“Sorry to say, she’s busy.”

He didn’t sound sorry at all, not one little bit. Ellie’s jaw clenched, it took everything in her power not to reach to the tone of his voice, the attitude coming off of him in waves with his smirk, the way his eyes travelled down her body, looking her over. She hadn’t even worn anything revealing, why would she need to, the only person she cared to impress was Noah, and he enjoyed her just as she was.

“Sure there is nothing I can do to help you, Sugar?”

The way he leered at her was absolutely repulsive, and frankly, Ellie did not miss the days when men would stare at her on the streets, offering her a free meal for just a little of her time… when she had been starving, her belling rumbling so bad it felt like it could just eat her alive from the inside out if she didn’t get something soon, she’d quickly learned there was almost anything she wouldn’t do.

She however wasn’t starving now, and the way he looked at her made her think of her bat, and taking it to his face. That made her feel just a little bit better. Smiling to him, even though his eyes never returned to her face to see it.

“No, but thank you, it’s quite alright, I’ll just have to come back another time, I guess Lord Sebastian must have been mistaken. He assured me she’d be available to talk to me today, I’ll let him know, I probably came at the wrong time, my mistake.”

Waving it off, and struggling not to laugh at the colour draining from his face with the words Lord Sebastian coming off her tongue, considering she’d only ever known Noah, as well, Noah, even if she knew he was a demon lord and all.

“Oh, this is for, oh, well, why didn’t you say so, let me just, just go get her for you then.”

Ellie’s lips pressed together tightly, trying not to laugh out loud at how quickly he walked from the room then, she was almost certain he started running the moment he was out of view. It was then she allowed herself a little chuckle to herself, damn, she hated men like that. Men that only saw women as something that they could use to their advantage, pigs, they were disgusting. Glancing around, seeing the bar in the light of day, was so strange.. Not that she had all that much time to do so before she heard the sounds of an almost confused scuffle behind her,

“Wh- Tony- can you- jus-”

And then she saw Ishtar shoved, well, shoved as much as the tall, imposing, frankly gorgeous demoness could be by that ridiculous excuse of a human male.. He might have regressed his age, no doubt to seem more appealing to others, especially if he died when he was older, but he was still a pathetic asshole so as far as she was concerned, it was pointless. Shoved into view of the staff doorway while the blighter scampered off again, obviously not wanting to face her. Typical.

It wasn’t the first time that Ishtar had been called into work early even when it wasn’t her day for the early shift to set up, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Either way, she was here, and she was sorting through the inventory list and marking up the next shipment order for the next week when Tony came out the back, his face all blotchy and red. She couldn’t help but snicker slightly,

“What’s got your knickers in a twist, old man?”

Oh, he hated being reminded how old he was when he died, he might have made himself look like he was barely in his twenties right now, hoping to hook up with the, and she quoted him precisely here, the desperate babes at the bar. Typical really, him calling them that, yet when he tried to chat them up, it was all doll face this, and sweet thing that. While he was harmless in the grand scheme of things, he was a pathetic coward, really she would hate to meet the woman that actually listened to his pick-up lines until he learned to respect them better.

“You fucked up, Lord Sebastian wants you, shit-”

He grabbed her up and started pulling her along, ripping the clipboard from her hands and throwing it down as he dragged her down the hall, his fingers gripping into her arm, and she sighed. Ishtar, she knew she could dig her heels and stop him, but what would be the point? A screaming match in the middle of the bar would be just as apt as getting her fired as any other time, even if she was sick and tired of his bullying.. This was probably about the other night, dammit..

Now, as he shoved her along, she shoved him back, she could walk her damn self for fuck's sake, it wasn’t like she was about to run away like a little coward. She wasn’t him, no, Ishtar, would much prefer to face her problems head on, and she was almost certain this was about the other night and the incident that had unfolded with that drunken girl trying to stupidly seduce him, in front of his girlfriend, creating a scene. Whether she was about to be blamed or not, which would be honestly ridiculous, she almost didn’t care anymore, just this, this right here, dealing with Tony all the time. If she was about to get fired, she would be sure to make sure to find a way to take him down with her. Tony had always made sure to make all of their lives difficult, and all of their lives harder as their manager. He was supposed to do the opposite, so if she could drag him down and finally help this place get someone better, she would be glad to do so.. Even if it means she has to start from scratch somewhere new.

As much as she didn’t want to.

That train of thought came to a screeching halt the moment she saw who was waiting for her in the bar. Standing in the staff door way after a last shove from Tony, she glanced back the way she came, and seeing the trepidation in his eyes, she had to school her features not to give herself away, there was no way this was a bad visit.. The Demon Lord sending his human girlfriend on an official demonic errand?

No, she wasn’t underestimating the girl, but she knew her position was in intake, and had nothing to do with the punishment work that her lover worked with.. Not to mention, the expression on her face was far from anything Ishtar would deem aggressive in terms of a conversation right about now.. Tony was such a wet blanket. Watching him scamper off was priceless right now, as she smirked, pathetic.

Making her way out to the main section of the bar, leaving the staff area now,

“Hi, Ellie, right?”

She had somewhat spoken to the girl here and there, when she’d ordered drinks. Ishtar actually remembered her the day she first came into the bar, she’d been cleaning off some tables when Folio had come over to talk to her and she’d noticed Ellie come in with Jolly and hanging out with the guys, it had been nice to have a fresh face, though curious as to why she didn’t know she was dead for so long. It wasn’t often that happened. She was glad that she knew now, it was easier to be around her, less of a worry to slipping up and sending shockwaves through the girl's existence.

“Yes! Oh, yes, I’m surprised you remember.”

Ishtar laughed softly,

“Well, it’s kind of hard not to know the name of the soul that crushed the hearts of so many. Of all the demons that have been chasing after Noah Sebastian, for life-times even, and you have him wrapped around your little pinkie. They didn’t think you had it in you.. I knew the moment Folio laughed over Noah trying to steal your food.”

Settling into a smile, remembering Folio coming over to the bar that night, absolutely howling with laughter, and insisting on some shot challenges, talking about what happened at the other table with the pair, oh it was hard to forget. Not because before long Folio had been almost slipping off his bar stool and face-planting to the floor before Jolly was having to carry him out of the bar to get him a lift home.

“So, name-dropping the boyfriend now? What can I do for you?”

Seeing the slightly abashed look come over the other woman’s face, knowing she’d been caught out, Ishtar just smiled, she had no problem with it.

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell Tony you were here to officially sanction me for the other night or something along those lines, you’ll be fine, but is everything okay?”

“Oh yes, everything is fine.. I just.. I was wondering if you’d like to have lunch with me tomorrow? Whether out somewhere, or I like to cook if you’d rather something simple.. I just.. While I’ve met so many people around hell, the guys are the people I’ve clicked with the most, and it would be really nice to just click with, frankly another woman.. And when you were the only one that bothered to help pull that girl away the other night…”

Ishtar paused, curious as to her reasoning, she’d been in Hell for a few months, and they hadn’t talked all that much, it might be nice to get to know her some more.. Whether her motives were just as she said..

“Sure.. I am a vegetarian though, I don’t eat meat, I’m fine with you eating it, and I swear I am not about to start lecturing you about not eating meat.. Honestly I hate people like that myself.. It drives me nuts..”

Watching as Ellie raised an eyebrow at that,

“How do you feel about some homemade pizza then, we can make them ourselves and go wild.. I’ll have everything if you meet me at my place at, say, noon, tomorrow?”

Ishtar grinned brightly, this sounded like a nice idea, and tomorrow was her day off, so it was perfect timing.

“Sounds perfect to me, I’ll bring us something to drink. Don’t worry, no day drinking, just something nice with the pizza. I’ll see you then.”

She watched her go, this was going to be interesting, especially considering the closest she came to a human friend was.. But that didn’t count, not really, they hadn’t hung out outside the bar, so it didn’t count. Work was work. If she was friends with everyone at work, life would get very messy very quickly, no, didn’t work that way. Smiling as she turned to head back.. Now she had to deal with that cowering Tony.

At least she hadn’t been fired, that was a plus!

Divider by @saradika-graphics

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vbholidayfestival · 6 months

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The Village Bridge Holiday Festival of Lights is a reoccurring holiday dash event hosted by @unovasrose. It is a flexible, open RP event meant to be done at your own pace, with no pressure to participate every day or even every week, and it extends a bit before and after Christmas and New Year's so those who are very busy during the holidays still have a chance to partake in the holiday fun. Additionally, the date constraints only apply to a few (optional) interactive events offered by the blog, so participants are more than welcome to continue any event-related threads even after the festival is officially concluded.

This year, the event will take place from December 15th, 2023 to January 5th, 2024.

The event is set up in a “choose your own adventure” format so your muse(s) can take part in any and all parts of the event they are interested in. The following amenities will be available:

Riverside Dance Party — The Village Bridge waterfront doubles as a dance floor open to all of those interested in grooving to dance-worthy holiday tunes. A DJ will be rockin’ around the clock and the Bridge Quartet will be providing live music every evening! If your muse is a performer and would like to be featured in the festival during impromptu open mic nights, send this blog an ask so they can be included in the lineup! If you write any posts of them performing, tag this blog so the performance can be reblogged onto the festival page for all to see!

Bridge Concession Stands — Enjoy mouth-watering holiday-themed treats from the concessions area!

Festival Games — Try your hand at winning an adorable poképlush and other great prizes. Test your aim by trying to knock off all the stacked MooMoo Milk bottles on the platform during MooMoo Milk Knock-Off or show off your strength by attempting to Ring the Bronzong. Better at hand-eye coordination? Try your best to score a winning shot in Holiday Hoop-as! Each muse will have one (1) chance to participate in each game and the results will be determined by the booth runners by rolling a d20.

Snowball Fights — Challenge your friends (or sworn frenemies?) to a snowball fight! Snowball fights will be 3 v. 3 (trainer + 2 pokémon), with the results determined via a dice system.

⭐ Christmas Lights Displays ⭐ (MAIN ATTRACTION) — The fields outside of Village Bridge are transformed into a winter wonderland filled with spectacular Christmas Lights arrangements spanning over three miles! Grab a cup of Sweet Heart Hot Cocoa and enjoy a magical stroll through the displays!

Route 12 Fire Pits — In the outskirts of town and along the path for the lights displays, festival attendees will come across many firepits where they can ward off the winter chill and roast some delicious Litwick S’mores!

Cozy Cabin Stays — Don't want to travel from a hotel the next town over? Book a stay in a rustic log cabin in the outskirts of Village Bridge! The cabins are fully furnished for a comfortable stay. Bookings are reserved for festival attendees.

Fireworks Displays — A spectacular fireworks display will take place on December 31st at midnight. Gather up your friends or cozy up with your sweetheart to bring in the new year with a bang! Attendees are encouraged to bring blankets or fire-type Pokémon to help stay warm.

Custom sentence starters and short opens featuring festival workers will be provided for each of the areas to assist in interactions, but don’t be afraid to come up with your own scenarios!

The event is open to everyone with a Pokémon muse or a Pokémon verse. There is no need to register in order to take part. Just use the tag #vbholidayfestival2023 in your festival posts and have at it!

#about #vbholidayfestival2023 #dash event

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harlowcomehome · 2 years

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a little fluff where Jack and the reader been out all night long and she got a bit tipsy and once they get back home he’s just taking care of her and making sure she’s good. Currently listening to psychic it’s got me feeling EXTRA single 😭

“Tipsy and I love you.”

A/N: Italicized words are in reference to “Psychic” song lyrics. Y/N may have inspired Jacks verse.

It had been a crazy busy week for both you and Jack. He had a lot of press and interviews that you tagged along for, he had been stressed lately and he always felt better when you were by his side. His stress however, made you stress too.

You walked into the club hand and hand and that’s when he really took a second to look at you. “Woah, all black tonight baby? I like it” he smiled as he eyed your outfit. “Bringing back my…” you paused “what did you call it again?” You laughed and he did too “your emo phase.” Truthfully, you remembered you just wanted to get him out of his own head.

“I got you. They are going to love the new songs. I promise bubba” you patted his chest and stood on your tiptoes for another kiss.

He looked at you and smiled “promise?” You held out your pinky and locked with his. “I promise.”

“You two disgust me” Urban teased as he signaled to Jack that they were ready for him.

“Take care of my girl” Jack whispered as the two did their signature handshake. You then followed Urban and Neelam to the private VIP section. You were eager to watch Jack perform some of his new stuff.

As you waited for his performance to officially start a few members of PG showed up and sat with all of you in the VIP section. The group all ordered rounds of shots and you and Neelam taking some of them and gossiping. “He’s really nervous for some reason” you admitted before throwing back a shot. “It’s this new feature with Chris, he can’t get a complete verse done” she confessed. “Writers block is a real bitch” you sighed before laughing “or rappers block? Either way” she laughed and nodded as the club lights dimmed.

“Y/N. How many tequila shots have you had?” Neelam laughed as she realized you were slurring your words. “Don’t mother me right now, my baby is about to be on stage” you teased and she laughed again.

You and the group danced and rapped along the entire time. Jack pointing at you once or twice for the reassurance that he saw you. By the time he was almost done you were definitely feeling the alcohol. “You good?” Urban asked watching you sway back and fourth, offering you his arm for stability. “Yeah, just a little dizzy” you laughed and Neelam shook her head “I told you that last shot would send you over the edge.” You shrugged as the group headed backstage to meet Jack.

Jack noticed your glazed over eyes instantly, “little bit tipsy sweetheart?” You giggled and leaned on him while you all waited to get in the van to leave. “You alright?” He laughed as your eyes fluttered open and closed. “I’m fine. You looked really sexy up there tonight” you had no volume control at the moment, causing everyone around you to laugh. Jack blushed and politely shushed you as he ushered you into the van.

When you both got back to his place he called it a night with the rest of the group and let them know he would see them all tomorrow. “Let’s get you inside” he laughed as you stumbled to the front door.

When you got into the bedroom you plopped yourself down on the bed. “Baby, my feet hurt” you sighed as you kicked your feet. “Do you want me to take your shoes off for you?” He laughed as he was already bending down next to your feet. “Please” you pouted. He swiftly took your shoes off and you wrapped you legs around him pulling him close. “Let’s wash that club off of you” he smiled and you laughed “you say that every time I come home a little tipsy, ya know that?” He smiled “do I?” You looked up at him lovingly “yes and your accent is so thick when you say it” he could tell you were beginning to really feel it, you usually said bold things like that, that you wouldn’t usually.

“Let’s get in the shower babe” he laughed as he carried you into the bathroom.

After the shower you got into comfy clothes and crawled into bed. “Can we watch Sailor moon?” You giggled as you patted the bed next to you for him to sit. He laughed “you and that damn anime.”

“I mean we could do something else” you smirked and he laughed as you pulled him in for a kiss before he got back out of bed.

“Tomorrow” he reassured you as he turned the tv on and the lights off, you nodded and he got back into bed with you, cuddling until you fell asleep less than a minute later.

“I sure do love you” he whispered as you snored into his chest.

#harlowsbby #jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow blurb #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow fanfic

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color-cacophony · 6 months

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I was going to make a Big Official Review Post about Rayman in the Phantom Show but I don't really have enough complete thoughts to make something comprehensive and organized, but I still want to share some points from my experience with it so uhhh without further ado, here's a bunch of thoughts on what dazzled me and what I thought could have been done better.

Here I go...

I'll start with the stuff that bugged me first because I don't like to end on a bad note:

I think the biggest issue is that giving the player the option to complete each set in any order diminishes the opportunity to have a linear story. Without a series of events building up to the finale, the actual climax doesn't feel as grand or substantial as it should be (it definitely feels like a few lines were cut from the moments before Phantom's first verse with how abruptly it starts). It would have felt more immersive to see actual scenes of the heroes trying to play their roles and have more varied quests based on puzzles or even characters and dialogue (like the search for Sweetlopek's stolen axe), all whilst gradually putting the pieces together that they were led into a trap.

Speaking of putting the pieces together, it would've paid off to have Beep-0 learn from his own arrogance in the past instead of repeating his assertion that he knew what Phantom was up to all along. That part made me kind of sad because I really like Beep-0 and it seemed like they were setting him up to eventually become less uptight and more open to admitting his mistakes, which would be more satisfying and obvious!

As we all know, Beep-0 isn't the only one who repeated himself. I remember an exchange I had with @randomrabbidramblings about our predictions for what would happen in the climax; they were hoping the final showdown with Phantom would not be redundant with his first encounter, having the same battle gimmick as before. Unfortunately that is, in fact, what they ended up doing. While framing it as Phantom being unoriginal or making a callback helps it a little bit, ultimately it made me feel let down (although I love Beep-0's delivery when he reiterates his line from Kingdom Battle. he means business).

As for the aftermath of the battle, I want to know where Phantom went. There doesn't seem to be any sign of him anywhere in the studio. It's really odd, given how this was supposed to be his grand comeback (alongside Rayman, of course), but we don't get even a simple explanation of what happened to him after he was defeated for the second time, unless I missed something. I presume this is his last major appearance in a game (unless they decide to do something completely different with him in the distant future??? wishful thinking but not ruling it out!), so it's a strangely underwhelming and mysterious send-off to our beloved ghostly diva. I would have been bummed that we didn't get lore paintings for him, but the memory entry summarizing his surprisingly short-lived career actually made me laugh and honestly, the thought of him only releasing one album and becoming so well-known just because he's notoriously a huge jerk and a producer of incredibly terrible films is so in-character for him.

Another choice I found unusual was the lack of any explanation as to how he got his voice back, since it's been established that he screwed it up by overdoing it. Although, they must have dismissed it knowing that not everyone is going to find the mural containing the only source of that detail. His voice could have healed over time anyway, but it just doesn't entirely make sense that they don't acknowledge it at all (I did see @bramble-scramble 's post mentioning a detail @randomrabbidramblings pointed out where a gramophone can be seen in a box in the studio's control room and it is supposedly the one Phantom replaced with a new one when he messed it up, but even if that's true, it's still a bit easy to miss).

I understand that a lot of these issues were due to restraints since it's only a DLC and they could only fit so much in, but that goes to show that this concept is a little too big for a DLC, but not quite big enough for a full game.

Now, for the things I loved...

I must give massive props to the artists and animators for taking reference from multiple Rayman games and essentially making the pinnacle of his goofiness. Rayman was HIGHLY entertaining to see (and listen to, thanks to David Gasman) and very lovable in this! And the way his dynamic with Rabbid Peach and Rabbid Mario changes up until the end where he becomes friends with them and realizes that he can work with the Rabbids now instead of against them it's just 🥺 awgh... It feels cheesy to talk about it but it really does make me happy now that Rayman has a chance to be an equal to the Rabbids and have something resembling a mutual understanding.

I appreciate them bringing back characters from the main game and giving them their own sets. Fittingly enough, it's like a curtain call for the final installment of SoH.

The return of Beep-0's swearing. SERIOUSLY IT'S SUCH A SMALL THING BUT IT DELIGHTED ME

The studio's lobby is gorgeous. Absolutely STUNNING I love all the details and the music notation motifs on everything.

Honestly the rest of this is just going to be me gushing about Phantom hehehe...

First of all, I was completely awestruck at the decision to give him a swing/jazz sequence because I love the aesthetic of the whole sassy big band musical number kind of thing so when I saw that Phantom was going to do that I went INSANE. The animation in the song sequences is absolutely top tier. Phantom is ALL OVER THE PLACE, very charming, very energetic. The swing bit made me realize just how unbelievably coordinated he is. Like when he's zipping and spinning around the stage and it doesn't affect his singing at all? Holy crap. Then, I went even MORE insane when rock/metal Phantom showed up. I would have wanted a verse in that style too, but I get that it was cut because it would mess up the pacing of the battle.

I love Phantom's inability to contain his excitement at the start of the battle, his annoyed lines when you destroy the lights, his smug remarks even when he's taking damage. He's just so- I'm just gonna say it- so freaking cute in this! His line deliveries in general made me fall so hard for him, especially "were you EVER a thing, Rayman?". The way he drops his voice sounds so cool...

Regarding his abilities, I thought they were going to explain why he could turn people to stone in Kingdom Battle, but they simply took that detail away. I don't have a big problem with this, as the Stone Deaf ability could have been part of the Megabug's influence (and it makes him at least a bit less OP lol). I'm also satisfied to finally know that he can indeed phase through things like any other ghost and isn't limited to just teleporting.

His death acting has definitely improved since last time, in that it's silly and makes me smile instead of just making me feel embarrassed lol.

So uummmm yeah that's all the noteworthy stuff I can think of! Overall I thought the DLC was delightful during my playthrough, but after I finished it I felt kind of sad because it just didn't feel "thorough". However, given that Sparks of Hope generally improved on so many aspects from the last game, I'm confident that they'll keep adding and experimenting with more characterizations and scenarios and make something even better if they decide to continue with Mario + Rabbids. And even if they don't, we'll always have the amazing fans to continue the story and put even more wonder into this wild crossed-over universe!

Anyway, thank you for reading through this highly disorganized rant/gush! And while I'm at it, thank you to everybody in the Mario + Rabbids community for making such amazing art and just being here to share our love for the series. That means thank you to @randomrabbidramblings @bramble-scramble @salamifuposey @hostess-of-horror @phandrow @pastelprince18 @critterzone13 @hostdoozy @majorpepperidge and more! You guys are super cool and I appreciate you even though I've never directly interacted with all of you, hehe. I suppose all I have left to say is goodnight, so goodnight/day everyone! Until next time I decide to dump more nonsense onto your dashboard :D

#I was a bit late making this post but I was dead for a while so eehhhh #thoughts and rambles tag

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imaginethezeldaverse · 10 months

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Do you think that Daruk or Yunobo would marry/propose to their Hylian s/o when they found out what weddings were?? I can imagine Yunobo being more open to it since he talks with a lot of people from different cultures...

*sighs dreamily* That just sent my heart aflutter

So I’m gonna do both because both warrant a response.

Daruk, being that he’s of a different generation and an older Goron would probably not do the whole proposal thing in a traditional sense. But he understands the significance of a longtime partnership and spending the rest of your life with someone (or…the rest of his at least…oh my god my poor heart). He’s very direct with how he feels - not one to pull punches at all, Daruk will come right out and tell you that you’re the love of his life and if you’ll have him, he wants you by his side as his partner from here on out. At the time of his coronation as the elected Goron champion, I think he decides on getting a Goron ruby customized for you: whether that’s a necklace, a set of earrings, a bracelet/wrist cuff, a headpiece, what have you - he’ll have one made and present it to you with the notion that he wants you to wear it as a symbol of his loyalty to you as his partner for as long as he lives. …But after the Calamity takes him out, there’s a big part of him that wishes he could’ve given you the wedding you wanted. Flowers, guests, the I Do’s, the whole thing. Even though it means so much to him to have given you such a precious, symbolic stone, he feels regret in that aspect - knowing you’d lose him so soon, you deserved a matrimony much more grandiose.

Now Yunobo is the opposite, he’s all about a wedding! Being that he’s much more knowledgeable and well versed with Hylian cultures in part through his business practices and in part from what he learns from you - he gets to work right away. Digs your engagement ruby up himself, in fact. The proposal isn’t larger than life, but you don’t need it to be - he’s honest with every word he says: telling you how much he loves you and how he can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with you; the proposal is private, it’s sweet, and you end up teary eyed. He gets down on one knee and shows you the stunning golden bracelet with a giant Goron cut ruby in the center, you wear it everyday since.

The whole sage crew jumps in to help him plan the thing. Riju and her seamstresses make your wedding attire, Tulin and Teba (with heavy guidance from Saki) decorate the venue, Sidon’s culinary team caters the event and Zelda offers to officiate the whole ceremony at Hyrule Castle. Yunobo even goes out of his way to get some form of a tuxedo made that suits him (and he looks about as handsome as you’d imagine with a bow tie). He does the I Do’s, the vows, even lifts you bridal style!

#Asks #Yunobo in a tux and bowtie is giving me so much serotonin #daruk #daruk x reader #Yunobo #yunobo x reader #wedding

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ofstoriesandstardust · 2 years

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brutal (rebel mitchell)

a/n: the SOUR film filmed the brutal portion in a hangar in the Mojave Desert. the SOUR series fate was sealed in that moment and I knew that brutal fit no one better than Rebel Mitchell. Give 'em hell Rebel

summary: She officially earned her callsign during her time at TOPGUN but for Ice and Mav, her rebel days started during college.

part of my SOUR series but these characters/plotline are from same mistakes-verse

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist

warnings: swearing, underage drinking, drinking to cope with anxiety, anger, and trauma, mentions of attempted sexual assault, i know tgm kinda implied Ice and Sarah had kids but they don’t, Rebel and Rooster were handfuls as it was, icemav is danced around in this fic

word count: 3,951

You were in deep, deep, deep shit. You knew it from the minute the party got busted, had it confirmed when the officer who lived next door took you to Ice’s instead of your house, and you knew your fate had been signed, sealed, and delivered the moment Ice opened the front door, spotting you and the officer who’d picked you up with a fistful of your leather jacket.

“Sorry to bother you this late Kazansky, but I figured you’d probably want me to pick her up instead of the MPs.”

“Hi Uncle Ice.” You mutter and he nearly hisses at you.

“What the hell happened?”

“Kid who lives next door threw a party while his Dad’s out on business. Our neighbor across the street made some calls when they got out of control. Underage drinking, smoking, the lot. I recognized her as your goddaughter and figured she’d do better in your hands than those of the MPs.” Ice nods, moving to grab the back of your jacket as you wince.

“Thanks Thatcher, I owe you one.”

“Tell her to stay out of trouble, you hear? I know Mitchell raised her to be a good kid and this isn’t like her. And I’m not sure they’re gonna let her walk off again.” Ice’s grip tightens on the back of your jacket.

“Will do Thatcher. Thanks again.”

“Night Kazansky.” The door shut and Ice all but growls as he drags you to the kitchen, setting you down in a chair. He moves around the kitchen table and stands there, hands on his hips. Ice’s anger can be felt through the air, growing with every passing minute.

“I’m so unbelievably disappointed in you.” You don’t say anything to him as your hands sit on the table, fiddling with one of your rings. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” You shake your head. “What the hell has been up with you lately kid? You’ve been acting weird ever since your Dad left.” You don’t say anything, now picking at something that was stuck to the kitchen table. “Nothing?” He sighs, crossing his arms. “You’re so grounded. So, so grounded.” You raise an eyebrow, sitting back in your chairs with your arms crossed.

“I’m not your kid Uncle Ice. I’m an adult and in college. You can’t tell me what to do.”

“So long as you live on this base and your Dad is gone, I can and I will. I’m your godfather and you will listen to me.”

“Oooo, so scary.” You mock. “Come off it Uncle Ice, you’re not my Dad, I don’t have to listen to you.”

“Should we call him? I think he’d have a lot to say about this.”

“Oh yeah, because he didn’t do this shit when he was my age. That’s funny Ice, you’re real funny.” Ice fixes you with a glare and the rational part of you is screaming at you to shut up.

“Car keys. Phone. Now.” You sigh, pulling the keys from your jacket along with your phone, which is dead, and set it on the table. “Was that so hard?”

“Very.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened? Because I’ll be getting the full story from Thatcher in the morning. Now’s your chance to get ahead of yourself.”

“Tom?” Sarah’s voice calls and you groan, sinking down in your chair. Even with alcohol swimming in your system, you know for however disappointed Ice is in you, Sarah will be more. She reaches the kitchen and pauses at the sight in front of her. “Hey sweetheart, why are you here? It’s like 3 in the morning, is everything okay?” Ice stands firm as you avoid Sarah’s eye. “Why do you smell like alcohol and cigarette smoke?” Ice clears his throat.

“Thatcher picked her up at some Navy brat’s party. I’ll deal with it, why don’t you go back to bed?” She nods and leaves the kitchen but your eyes don’t leave the car keys that are sitting on the kitchen table, the little sunflower keychain your Dad had sent you from his last deployment hooked on to it. “An explanation.”

You shake your head. “I don’t have one. I shouldn’t have one for you, you’re not my Dad.”

“Grounded. So grounded. Three weeks.”

“God, it’s brutal out here.” You remark and he raises an eyebrow, his jaw locking.

“Four.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” What were you doing? You weren’t sure but between the ever-simmering anger you’d been feeling underneath your skin since Bradley took off and the alcohol in your body, you found it hard to care.

“I’m not gonna let you crash and burn like this kid. You’re my responsibility while your Dad is gone and I’m not letting you throw away your career or life before it’s ever even had a chance to start.”

“Well, maybe I don’t care about that.” He sighs.

“Look, I know that even if you don’t say it, that you aren’t sure you want a career in the Navy and that’s fine, but-”

“That’s not what I was talking about.” There’s another break in Ice’s stone-cold character and the anger that had been seeping through is replaced with confusion as he plays back his words. “I’m going to bed.” You say, standing up from your seat.

“Sit back down.”

“Goodnight Ice.”

You should not be listening to this conversation. Should not. But you can’t help but listen anyways, feeling your heart twist as you hear the words from both ends.

“How is she?”

“She’s giving me one hell of a run for my money Mitchell.”

There’s laughter from the other side of the conversation. “I highly doubt that Ice.”

“Thatcher picked her up from a party on base the other night.”

“Oh shit.”

“Also, I’m changing the lock on your liquor cabinet.”

Your Dad sighs. “Ice, isn’t that a bit of an overreaction to getting busted at a house party?”

“Pete, she figured out the code, almost half of the cabinet is gone.” Shit. How’d he figure that one out?

There’s a pause. “Jesus Christ.”

“She’s never around and I don’t buy for a second that she’s sitting in her dorm room knitting.”

“She tell you that?”

“She doesn’t tell me much of anything these days.”

“Oh.” His tone bleeds surprise.

“Yeah.”

“Look Ice, she’s a college kid. She’s bound to make mistakes and do stupid shit. Look at who you’re talking to, yeah? It’s genetic.”

“Pete, these feel like intentional mistakes.”

There’s another pause. “What do you mean?”

“She-” Ice says. “She said something really concerning the other night. When Thatcher picked her up. I told her that I wasn't going to let her throw away her career and life and she responded with something along the lines of ‘I don’t care too much about that’.”

“Well, the career portion-”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought so too. But she clarified for me that’s not what she was referring to.”

There’s a longer silence this time and when you hear your Dad’s voice again, a piece of your heart breaks hearing his tone. “Fucking hell, Ice.”

“Pete, she needs you.”

He sighs. “Ice, I’d love nothing more than to be home with my kid but I’m gone for another two months.”

“Pete, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it wasn’t important.”

“I can’t Ice. You know how this works.”

You turn away from the door at that, knowing that’s how it always would be. For your family, the Navy would always come before you.

No one wants you.

Another shot.

No one even likes you.

Another shot.

You don’t even have any real friends.

Another shot.

Your Dad doesn’t care about you.

Another shot.

Everyone who loves you will leave.

Another shot.

You’re not good enough.

Another shot.

“Dad?” It feels like you’ve stopped breathing, looking at his head stuck into the liquor cabinet. Shit shit shit shit shit-

“You really did a number on this kid.”

“You weren’t supposed to be back for another two weeks.”

“And you were planning on replacing all of the alcohol how exactly?”

“Well, I didn’t take all the alcohol. I left that bottle of rum.” He finally pulls his head out of the cabinet, fixing you with a look that makes your stomach slosh. Or maybe it’s all the shots you downed earlier...

“Are you sober?”

“What do you think?”

“I’m thinking no.” He shuts the cabinet door. “Ice told me he was replacing the lock.”

“He did. But locks are so easily broken.” He huffs, crossing his arms.

“Kiddo, what are you doing?”

“What ever do you mean?”

“this is not how I raised you.” You gave half a shrug, feeling yourself wobble on unsteady feet. If you’d been sober, you might’ve caught the preemptive step your Dad took forward to catch you if he needed to.

“Raised me? You weren’t around.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“I mean, in the dictionary, instead of a picture of absent father, there’d just be a definition of you- wait, no that wasn’t right-”

“Okay, sweetie, bedtime, we can talk about this in the morning.” He moved towards you, trying to herd you to your room. You move back from him.

“Oh so what? You going Dad of the year now?”

He sighs. “Cut it out and go to bed.”

“No, you don’t get to tell me what to do!” You took another few steps back from him. “God, no wonder Bradley left.” He freezes.

“What the hell does that mean?” His voice is deadly quiet and if you were sober, you might’ve regretted saying the words.

“What do you think?” He huffs, his eyes closing briefly.

“Kid, this isn’t like you. What’s going on? Talk to me.”

“Why should I? Your fucking fault my best friend left.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about it.”

“I’m not stupid Dad. You did something.”

“You’re drunk.”

“And you’re a shit parent.” He takes a few steps back from you.

“I’m going to forgive you for saying that because you’re drunk and angry at the world right now. But we’re talking about this in the morning. No excuses.”

The low murmur of Ice and Dad talking greet your ears as you get closer to the kitchen. You pause and its Ice who notices you first, turning and gesturing to the table. You sit, bracing yourself for the shitstorm you’re about to face. You don’t remember much of the night before, just the all-consuming anxiety that caused you down to down that many shots in the first place. You know that whatever you did can’t be good though based off the looks on their faces. Your Dad clears his throat, looking to Ice, and Ice gestures from him to talk. He doesn’t say anything though, just observing you. Finally he sighs and crosses his arms.

“So just to make sure I understand this, in the 3 and a half months I’ve been gone, you got picked up at a Navy brat’s house party, cleaned out my liquor cabinet, broke the new lock Ice put on it, and got absolutely wasted on god knows how much alcohol for most of the last four months?”

You shrug. “To be fair, that’s just what you know about.” Mav’s eyes widen and he turns to Ice.

“Grounded. You are grounded. I want your car keys, for real this time, and your phone.” You roll your eyes, tilting your head.

“Yeah, okay.”

“(Y/N), underage drinking, going to parties, smoking, this has never been you.”

“Well, maybe this is the new me.”

“Well, I don’t like her. Give me my kid back.”

“What does it matter to you? You’re never home.” Your Dad’s jaw locks. “See, here’s what I think. I’m 19, legally an adult. I’m in college. You,” You said, pointing to your Dad, “spend most of the year in some faraway place. You,” You said, pointing to Ice now, “are not my Dad, no matter how much you try to pretend to be. Therefore, why should either of you get to tell me what to do?” Your Dad sighs.

“Fine.” Wait what? “You’re right.”

“Maverick!” Ice exclaims, looking as bewildered as you felt.

“No, you’re right kiddo. Ice isn’t your dad and I’m never home and you’re an adult so you’re right. You are an adult who is free to make her own choices and if that means having a rebellious streak, so be it. Neither Ice or I are in position to be telling you what to do. We can’t ground or take your phone or car, so you know what, there’s no punishment.”

Huh?

“Mitchell, what the hell are you doing?”

“You’re free to go.” You slowly stand up on what feel like jelly legs as Ice starts angrily whispering at your Dad. You make it to the doorway, your back turned to the men, when your Dad speaks again. “Unless, of course, this new rebellion has something to do with Bradley leaving.”

You freeze.

“It would be okay, if it did. I know him leaving hurt you. I know he was your best friend. I know things haven’t been easy since Carole died and if that was the straw that broke the camels back, it’s okay.” Tears prick at your eyes but you don’t turn around. “What’s not okay is if you’re drinking to cope with the loss and your anger.”

Your ears are ringing as you hear the kitchen door slam shut behind you.

The house reverberates with the sound of the loud music as you squeeze through the crowd, searching for April. Someone from your high school was having a house party and April had invited you, saying that it would be no match for the parties you went to at UCSD. Someone grabs your arm and you turn, locking on to the blond. She squeals, pulling you into a hug, the surrounding people turning to look at you. She pulls away and gives you a once over and then grabs your wrist, pulling you to the kitchen, where it’s marginally quieter. She begins to pour the two of you drinks as she eagerly chats about what she’s been up to since graduating. Something about being an apprentice at a tattoo shop.

“Anyways, I heard you and your Dad moved into my parents old neighborhood.” You nod, taking the drink from her. About six months ago, you and Dad had moved off base, much to Ice’s resistance. The move had been tense and you didn’t speak to him much.

“Yeah, I’m not really there much.”

“Thought you were living at home? To save money on rent?”

You nod. “I am.”

“So where do you go then?”

“I dunno, I do a lot of couch surfing. I only go home once or twice a week to do laundry and get clean clothes. Maybe to shower depending on who I’ve been staying with.” She nods, frowning.

“Hey, I saw Bradley the other day. Was back in town on a school break.” You roll your eyes.

“April, I don’t wanna talk about him.”

“He’s worried about you. Word of your bad influences of friends have gotten around to our old group from school and evidently, Bradley.”

“Bradley can fuck right off. And they’re not bad influences.”

“You never used to do stuff like this. Even coming here tonight, that’s unusual for you.”

“Well maybe I’m tired of being miss goody two shoes.” She sighs, her frown deepening.

“Just be careful okay? Don’t do anything permanent.”

“I won’t add to or subtract from the population and I’ll do my best to avoid ending up in a jail cell.” She smiles.

“Atta girl.”

The buzzing of his phone wakes him up. He pauses when it stops, but then it rings again. He grumbles, blindly reaching for it. He blinks but his brain doesn’t register the caller as he put it up to his ear. “Mitchell.”

The voice of a woman he doesn’t know comes through. “Hey, uh, you’re Pete Mitchell right?” He blinks, pulling the phone away to take in the Caller ID.

“Why do you have my daughter’s phone?”

“I’m April, I’m a friend of hers of from high school. We’re at a party and uh, something happened.” He shoots up, halfway out of bed when he hears his daughter, probably a few feet away from the phone.

“April, you called my Dad?”

“What’s going on?” He says and he runs around his room, trying to find clothes to put on one handed.

“She’s fine, there was just this guy who wouldn’t leave her alone. I found them before he could do anything and she’s really drunk and upset.” Maverick’s blood does this weird thing he didn’t know it could do, blood boiling at the thought of someone putting their hands on his kid while simultaneously going ice cold at the thought.

“April, I can’t believe you called my Dad. He’s gonna kill me!” She’s crying now and it feels like a piece of his heart chips off.

“Okay, I’ll be there in 15. Send me the address?”

“Texting it to you now.”

Your Dad’s jeep rounds the corner as you kick a rock on the ground, April standing a few feet away from you. The sounds of tires on the gravel driveway catches your attention and you look up, seeing your Dad climb out of the drivers side. “Hey, thank you for coming to get her.”

“Of course, she’s my kid.”

“I would’ve driven her but I’ve been drinking and I’ve lost my boyfriend in the crowd and she was kind of inconsolable so I figured to would be better to have an adult who-”

“April, thank you. you’re a good friend.” She nods as your Dad sticks his hand out to pull you up from your seat on the porch. You take it and he bids April goodbye as he directs you to the passenger seat. You’re wobbly on your feet, unsteady from the alcohol and the events of the night. The drive is quiet as you begin to think about the last year and the damage you’d been doing to your life. You eventually reach the house and your Dad helps you through the front door and instead of turning for the hallway, you turn for the living room, collapsing on the couch. You can hear your Dad chuckle softly as he grabs one of the blankets, throwing it over you and pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Goodnight kiddo. Glad to have you home.”

You groan, shifting on the couch. A laugh sounds from a few feet away and you blink as your eyes open. “Dad?”

“Hey kiddo.” You sit up, wincing as your head starts to pound. He hands you the bottle of Advil and a glass of water. “Here, take these. Then go take a shower because you reek. I’m making food and then we can discuss what’s been going on. For real this time. No more running.” You nod as you down the Advil, the water bringing you immediate relief. The shower also proves to be a relief and bring some clarity. It’s only once you’re wrapped in a clean UCSD sweatshirt and a pair of shorts, sitting at the breakfast table with pancakes and fruit in front of you, do you realize how hard you’ve hit rock bottom. And how much you’re going to have to now own up for. “How much of last night do you remember?”

“All of it.”

“So walk me through what happened.”

“April invited me to a party and I went. We got separated at one point as she was trying to hunt down her boyfriend and this guy I didn’t know came up to me, was trying to hit on me. I turned him down but he wouldn’t let it go. He backed me into a corner and was going to-” Your throat become dry as you think back on how close he’d gotten to really hurting you. “Anyways, April found me before he could do anything and she told the guy to get the fuck out. Threatened to punch him in the nose and he pissed off. She dragged me outside because I was crying and I guess she decided to call you.” You refuse to meet your Dad’s eyes.

“And the last year?”

You shrugged. “You weren’t wrong. About Bradley. April mentioned him last night and it spurred me to drink so goddamn much and I just- it fucking sucks you know? For him to leave and not ever give me any explanation, to cut me out so ruthlessly? I’ve just been so angry since he left and I just- hit a point where I didn’t want to be angry anymore and the only way I knew how to ignore it was to get drunk. And then everything spiraled and I realized there was no one around to give a shit and so I just kept pushing, seeing how far I could go, and then I called you a shit parent and it all blew up in my face and I decided to just keep going.” You sigh, setting your fork down as your palms come up to press against your eyes. “I thought it would be better to just keep running rather than own up to what I was doing.”

“Kiddo-”

“I shouldn’t have called you a shit parent and I’m sorry I did.”

“It’s okay-”

“No it’s not. It was a fucking awful thing to say and it wasn’t even you I was angry at, you just happened to be there. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I don’t even know why I do that, throw words meant to kill when I don’t mean them.”

“Kiddo, it’s okay. You’re gonna fuck up. You’re gonna make mistakes.” He sighed, settling back into his chair. “Tell you what. You’re right that you’re an adult. I can’t ground you the way I did when you were 15. And given everything that happened last night, I think you’ve learned your lesson.”

“So... that’s it? You’re letting me walk off scot free?”

“Not exactly. You’re gonna pay me back for all the alcohol you stole out of the liquor cabinet.” You wince.

“That’s gonna be expensive.” You sigh, picking up your fork again to fiddle with it. “I owe Uncle Ice an apology.” He nods.

“You do.” He sighs again, shifting to prop his arms up against the table. “One more thing. If I catch even a whisper of you drinking between now and your 21st birthday, you and I are gonna be having a much different conversation than the one we’re having right now. One that includes the words therapy and rehab.”

You have to keep yourself from rolling your eyes. “Oh for fucks sake, I’m not an alcoholic-”

“And I won’t let you become one. So don’t make me have to have that conversation with you. Because trust me, I don’t want to. You might be over the age of 18 but you’re still my kid and my responsibility.” You sigh, nodding.

“Okay. Okay. You won’t, I promise.”

“There are healthier ways to deal with your grief and anger. Ice and I can help you find them, find the ones that work for you. What you’re feeling is valid but the response is not okay.”

“I know.”

“I’m going to do my best to be around, even when I’m not around. And Ice is always here for you, you know that.” You nod.

“Can I go? I want a nap in my own bed.” He nods and you stand up.

“Hey, one last thing.” He says and you turn from the doorway.

“Yeah?”

“You’re gonna be okay kiddo.”

#pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #rebel mitchell #a character study #sour series #same mistakes #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw

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like-i-need-a-hole-in-my-head · 1 year

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“In 2004, when he dusted off the box and sat down to sift through these tokens of his father’s life, Ngom found something confounding: a note, scribbled in his father’s hand, about a debt he owed a local trader. The note was doubly surprising. First, Ngom had thought his father was illiterate—he didn’t read French, the official language of Senegal. But the note wasn’t in French, it was in a script that looked like Arabic, but sounded like Wolof, a regional West Atlantic language.

Ngom, who studied Arabic as a second language (the second of 12 languages that the scholar knows), was stunned. He asked his brother, still living in Senegal, to check with the neighbor to whom their father owed money. Sure enough, his brother reported, the trader had a record of the debt, too, in a similar Arabic-turned-Fula script.

“That’s when I realized: we’ve been told that these people are illiterate, and they’re absolutely not,” says Ngom, a Boston University College of Arts & Sciences professor of anthropology.

He found this modified Arabic script everywhere. Shopkeepers kept records with it and poets wrote sprawling verses in it. Ngom discovered religious texts, medical diagnoses, advertisements, love poems, business records, contracts, and writings on astrology, ethics, morality, history, and geography, all from people who were considered illiterate by the official governmental standards of their countries.”

#africa #african history #language #black history

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witchthewriter · 2 years

Photo

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐝𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐛𝐲'𝐬 𝐬/𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

🌿INFP 🍁Ravenclaw 📜Chaotic Good 🔮Aquarius Sun, Libra Moon, Taurus Rising

SFW🌿

⭑ Meeting in the library or movie theatre. You probably didn’t know who she was because Ada doesn’t flaunt the Shelby name.

⭑ You were enamored with how intelligent she was - your conversations were intellectual from the get-go.

⭑ Ada had been yearning for someone to understand her, her beliefs and opinions for years. She was well versed in politics since her teenage years because of her social status.

⭑ You were in a similar boat; you grew up higher low class/lower middle class. And had to work early on to earn for your family.

⭑ You spent a lot of your time with Ada, and missed her when she wasn’t around. There’s a side to her that not a lot of people get to see. She’s humorous and funny - she loves being light-hearted but understands the deeper meaning of things.

⭑ She’s very open-minded, and you love that about her.

⭑ You like to swap books and talk about them with each other

⭑ You would be very shocked to find out she was a Shelby. And your mind would be full of questions

⭑ Ada loves when you cup her cheek and rub your thumb against her lips

⭑ Your relationship would be official on the night that she came crying to you about something. You comforted her like no one ever has.

⭑ And she would definitely be up for some planned chaos... wreaking havoc against white supremacists, misogynists, racists and homophobes

⭑ She absolutely loves music and will take you to clubs (you don’t need an escort as everyone knows who she is).

⭑ Soon you become affiliated with the Shelby’s, and everyone at least knows you’re close to Ada - so no harm comes to you.

⭑ She loves having hot baths with lots of bubbles and candles, so that’s what you do for her when she’s had a rough day

⭑ But she likes it when you sit next to the bath and read to her

⭑ For you, she makes tea and dinner. She would love making you homemade meals, but not because it’s ‘expected’ of her - but because she likes looking after you

⭑ Ada is vulnerable with you, and keeps space for you to do the same. You’re each other’s safe person

⭑ You look after Karl too, and he slowly starts to like you (you would first know him when he was 5)

⭑ You have family dinners, and take him to sports games and the like

⭑ You’re a little family and although you don’t mind if she delves deeper into the Shelby business or not, you just want to be by her side

⭑ Ada would definitely want to marry you and randomly strikes up the conversation (you don’t like to surprise each other with big changes unless you’ve spoken about it first)

NSFW🔞minors dni!

⭑ Ada surprised you the first time you were intimate. Her hands seemingly craved to touch you; like a frenzy, she wanted more and more of you. Her lips wouldn’t leave your skin, her body moved against your own.

⭑ You were left breathless. And absolutely exhausted by the time you both orgasmed

⭑ Ada likes to edge you, see how far she can take you to the edge and pull you back.

⭑ She loves hearing your sounds; your pleading and begging for release.

⭑ All she does is smile devilishly down at you

⭑ You definitely have red lipstick marks on your clothes. Whether she does it on purpose or not, you usually find them when you’re already in public

⭑ She likes to wear nothing but her jewelry when you two fuck; the way they dangle while she’s on top of you, pumping her fingers inside you

⭑ If you’re of the male sex then she would totally ask to peg you, and if you’re of the female sex then she would use a dildo

⭑ Her favourite time to have sex is at night, after a glass of sherry

⭑ And her favourite position is missionary with you underneath her

⭑ She is most definitely a dom

⭑ Over time she would want to introduce more toys and things to the bedroom. Like ropes, oils, blindfolds

#ada shelby #ada shelby headcanons #peaky blinders #peaky blinders headcanons #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder headcanon #ada shelby x reader #ada shelby x you #dating would include #would include #headcanons #dating headcanons #peaky blinders x you #reader insert #fanfic #y/n

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princesssarisa · 1 year

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"A Christmas Carol": Canon vs. Fanon

@ariel-seagull-wings, @reds-revenge, @thealmightyemprex, @the-blue-fairie, @thatscarletflycatcher, @faintingheroine

Since my overview of the various Christmas Carol adaptations isn't finished yet, and since the Christmas season doesn't officially end (as per the Church calendar) until this coming Friday, I thought I would share another Christmas Carol-related post. A long one, addressing the always-important subject in fiction fandoms of "canon vs. fanon." Certain details that are widely believed and used in adaptations, but which aren't really true, or necessarily true, in the book.

Belle is Fezziwig’s daughter. As far as I know, this is only true in the musical Scrooge: the original 1970 film, the 1992 stage version, and the 2022 animated remake Scrooge: A Christmas Carol. The book never says any such thing. Fezziwig does have three daughters, but we don’t know if Belle is one of them or not.

Belle left Scrooge because he repeatedly insisted on delaying their wedding until he had earned more money. In The Muppet Christmas Carol, the direct catalyst for Belle ending their engagement is that Scrooge insists on postponing their wedding for “another year.” A few other versions also allude to Scrooge’s insisting on delaying their marriage. But the book says nothing about wedding-postponement; Belle only speaks of Scrooge having lost all his “nobler aspirations” in favor of “the master-passion, Gain,” and of knowing that if they weren’t engaged already, he would never choose to marry a girl as poor as she is.

Bob Cratchit has to plead for Scrooge to give him Christmas Day off. This is probably another misconception that stems from The Muppet Christmas Carol, where Scrooge initially tries to give Bob and the other bookkeepers just half an hour off on Christmas morning, and Bob is forced to persuade him not to open the office on Christmas because all the other businesses will be closed. But the equivalent scene in the book doesn't play out this way. Scrooge complains about having to give Bob the day off, but he makes no attempt to avoid doing it. Since some employers in 19th century London did make their employees work on Christmas Day – for example, the milliner whom Martha Cratchit works for – the fact that Scrooge does give Bob the day off without being asked, despite complaining about it, is probably an early hint that he's not all bad.

Character names. Mrs. Cratchit's first name is never given as "Emily" – that name comes from The Muppet Christmas Carol. Fred's surname is never said to be "Holywell" – that name comes from the 1984 TV adaptation with George C. Scott. Scrooge's ex-fiancée is named Belle, not Isabel – unless you're talking about the musical Scrooge or Mickey's Christmas Carol. Somehow or other, these specific names from adaptations have stuck in people's consciousness and been applied to all versions of the characters, when Dickens never wrote them.

Fan died in childbirth. The 1951 film has firmly planted this assumption in many minds: that Scrooge's sister Fan died at Fred’s birth and Scrooge despises his nephew because he blames him for her death. But Dickens’ Ghost of Christmas Past only says, “She died a woman, and had, as I think, children,” and Scrooge replies “One child.” No one ever says she died in childbirth.

Mrs. Fezziwig is fat. “One vast, substantial smile” is the way the book describes her; this is all we have to indicate whether or not she’s fat.

Marley’s Ghost dwells in hell. Few of us can forget the dark comedy sequence in 1970’s Scrooge where Marley’s Ghost welcomes Scrooge into hell during his vision of Christmas Yet to Come. Nor is that film the only version to imply that Marley resides in hell and that Scrooge will too unless he redeems himself. Even in The Muppet Christmas Carol, the deleted last verse of the song “Marley and Marley” implies that the ghosts are going back to hell after visiting Scrooge. But the book’s theology is nowhere near so traditional. Marley never mentions hell: he only speaks of wandering the world. In Dickens’s Carol, it seems that hell is on earth. The souls of sinners are punished not with fire and brimstone, but by being forced to wander and helplessly witness the suffering of the living, which they either caused or failed to alleviate when they themselves were alive.

Mrs. Dilber is Scrooge’s charwoman. First of all, Mrs. Dilber is the laundress in the rag-and-bone shop sequence. Despite several adaptations giving the charwoman her name instead, the latter goes unnamed in the book. Secondly, there’s no indication that either thieving woman works for Scrooge, rather than for the person handling his affairs after his death. Scrooge himself shows no sign of knowing the thieves. (Though to be fair, it’s not out-of-character for Scrooge to pay so little attention to his own charwoman and laundress that he doesn’t recognize them, and their insulting remarks about him can be seen to imply that they knew him personally.) Memorable though Mrs. Dilber’s role is as Marley’s and later Scrooge’s charwoman in the 1951 film, it isn’t her role in the book.

Scrooge buys a goose for the Cratchits on Christmas morning. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve heard Scrooge’s gift of poultry referred to as a goose. I even remember once reading a review of one of the film versions where the critic complained that the screenplay “Americanized” the gift by changing it from a goose into a turkey. But these are Dickens’ words: “It was a Turkey!” When people misremember it as a goose, they’re confusing it with the goose the Cratchits eat in the Christmas Present sequence. Scrooge’s turkey popularized turkey for Christmas dinner after A Christmas Carol became a success and helped lead to its replacing goose as the most ubiquitous Christmas poultry.

Scrooge’s chief vice is that he hates Christmas. It should go without saying that this is a gross oversimplification. Scrooge’s greed and miserliness, his cold indifference to the poor, his shabby treatment of Bob Cratchit and neglect of Bob’s needy family, his rejection of his own nephew, and his general bitterness and self-isolation from the world are all more significant than his disdain for Christmas. The latter is only a symptom of a much larger problem and his ultimate vow to “honor Christmas in [his] heart” means to embrace the spirit of love and good will, not just to celebrate the holiday.

Scrooge changes his ways out of fear. Again and again in pop culture, we hear the claim that Scrooge is “frightened into changing.” But if fear were all it took, then only Marley’s ghost would need to visit to warn him of damnation, or else only the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come to show him his bleak, lonely death. The Ghosts of Christmas Past and Present would serve no purpose. That statement overlooks the fact that reliving his past softens his heart by reawakening old emotions and reminding him of what his greed cost him, that seeing others’ present joy at Christmas makes him want to share it, and that observing the Cratchits and Tiny Tim teaches him to care about them and want to help them.

Scrooge constantly says “Bah! Humbug!” Believe it or not, he only utters those iconic words together twice. Several other times he says “humbug” by itself, but only twice, in just one scene, does he precede it with “Bah!”

Scrooge fell in love with Belle while working for Fezziwig. It’s ubiquitous for adaptations of the Carol to show Belle at the Fezziwig Christmas party. Whether young Scrooge is shown proposing to her there, meeting her there for the first time, or just dancing with her, even the most faithful adaptations include her. It’s easy to forget that Dickens doesn’t feature her in that sequence at all! We don’t know if Scrooge met and fell in love with her while he was Fezziwig’s apprentice or later in his youth. The book never tells us.

Scrooge has a large hooked nose. It’s been ubiquitous to depict Scrooge this way ever since John Leech did in his original illustrations. Of course, Leech didn’t work in a vacuum either: nearly all greedy or miserly men in fiction tend to be depicted with large curving noses, probably because greed, miserliness, and large hooked noses are all anti-Semitic stereotypes (see “Scrooge is Jewish” below). But Dickens only describes Scrooge’s nose as “pointed.” He never mentions its size or anything else about its shape.

Scrooge is a crooked businessman. Occasionally, adaptations will hint that Scrooge engages in illegal business practices. But the book never implies any such thing. He's just an extremely conservative businessman, who strictly and coldly follows the rules of making profit, and follows the rules of decency and charity that his society enforces (e.g. paying his taxes to support the workhouses for the poor, giving his clerk a Christmas holiday with pay), but sees no point in doing anything beyond that. His harshest, most unfeeling speeches were typical conservative arguments in the politics of Dickens's England. He sees himself as having done nothing wrong, and the fact that Dickens calls him a "sinner" anyway reflects a perspective other than the law.

Scrooge is a fair and reasonable employer to Bob Cratchit. This argument is sometimes made by conservative critics. After all, Bob and his family live in a house, not a tenement (never mind that it’s a four-room house for eight people), they can afford a goose and plum pudding for Christmas dinner (never mind that their feast would have probably cost Bob a full week’s wages), and Scrooge gives him Christmas Day off with pay (just one day off a year, with extreme reluctance). As for Scrooge’s stinginess with the coal in his office, these critics say, why shouldn’t Bob just wear an overcoat and save the money? (Never mind that Bob has no overcoat.) And as for Tiny Tim, they say, most families lost at least one child in the days before modern medicine. (As if that somehow exempted employers from trying to save their employees’ children from preventable deaths.) Besides, they say, it was irresponsible of Bob and his wife to have six children in the first place. (To quote the Ghost of Christmas Present: “Oh God! To hear the insect on the leaf pronouncing on the too much life among his hungry brothers in the dust!”) It should go without saying that these arguments are precisely the kind of sentiments Dickens wrote the Carol to argue against.

Scrooge is Jewish. It’s no surprise that some people jump to this conclusion. Many aspects of Scrooge’s character mirror anti-Semitic stereotypes. He’s greedy, miserly, works as a financier, disdains Christmas, has a Hebrew name from the Old Testament (Ebenezer), and in pop culture is often depicted with a large, hooked nose (see above). It’s entirely fair for critics to complain about the Jewish “coding” in his character. But if Dickens had meant for Scrooge to literally be a Jew, he would presumably have called him a Jew, as he notoriously did with Oliver Twist’s Fagin. Old Testament names were common among Christians in 18th and 19th century England, Scrooge’s nephew Fred is a Christmas-loving Christian, and in the Christmas Past sequence, his sister Fan says they’ll be together “all the Christmas long,” indicating that his family celebrated the holiday in his childhood. There’s no real hint of Jewishness whatsoever.

Scrooge only pursued wealth for Belle’s sake until after she left him. Some critics try to defend young Scrooge against Belle’s accusation that “another idol [had] displaced [her]” by arguing that he only wanted to be rich for her sake, and that he only really turned to greed to fill the void after she ended their engagement. Several adaptations also emphasize that his motive (at least at first) was to provide for Belle. But Dickens’s young Scrooge never argues that he only pursues wealth for Belle’s sake – only that he’s grown “wiser” by striving to stave off poverty, and that despite it all he’s not changed toward Belle. Nor does Dickens’s narration ever imply that Belle judges him unfairly. He describes young Scrooge’s face as already showing signs of “avarice,” with “an eager, greedy, restless motion in the eye, which showed the passion that had taken root.” And when Belle says that if their engagement had never been, he would never choose a dowerless bride now, Dickens writes that he “seemed to yield to the justice of this supposition” before attempting “with a struggle” to deny it… and even then, he never says he would still choose her, only “You think not.” It seems to me that Dickens meant for Belle to be right.

Scrooge’s father was cold and distant because of grief at his wife’s death. Again and again, adaptations of Scrooge’s childhood explicitly state that Scrooge’s mother is dead, and often imply that his father was embittered and hardened by his grief for his wife, explaining why he neglected his son at boarding school. But the book never even mentions Scrooge’s mother. She might have still been alive when he was a child, for all we know. Nor is any explanation given for why his father neglected him, nor for why he eventually became kinder and brought him home. Dickens didn’t choose to flesh out Scrooge’s childhood that far.

Scrooge’s mother died at his birth. Elaborating on the above, the two most acclaimed film versions of the Carol (the 1951 and 1984 versions) both explicitly say that Scrooge’s mother died in childbirth and his father neglected him because he blamed him for her death. But as mentioned above, Scrooge’s mother is never actually said to be dead. Furthermore, Fan is Scrooge’s younger sister in the book (the ’51 and ’84 film versions both make her the older sibling, a young woman instead of a child), so unless their father remarried and she’s actually Scrooge’s half-sister, Scrooge’s birth couldn’t possibly have killed their mother.

Scrooge’s only childhood hardship was loneliness. Rarely do adaptations depict Scrooge’s childhood boarding school as the decrepit place the book describes, with its damp and decaying exterior, cold and dreary rooms, and air of “too much getting up by candle-light, and not too much to eat.” Nor do they usually portray the schoolmaster (if they depict him at all) as the imposing figure with the “terrible voice” and glare of “ferocious condescension” that Dickens describes. It’s a surprise that even the adaptations most determined to flesh out Scrooge’s backstory tend to just highlight the loneliness of his childhood, and/or his mistreatment by his father that the book only vaguely alludes to, rather than lean hard into the “Dickensian” nature of the school as Dickens described it.

Scrooge's worst traumas all happened at Christmas, which is why he hates the holiday. Well, it's true that young Scrooge was at his loneliest at Christmas as a boy, when he was left alone at boarding school while all the other boys went home. And it's true that his only friend Jacob Marley died on Christmas Eve. It's also probably true that Belle broke off their engagement at Christmastime – all the other scenes the Ghost of Christmas past shows to Scrooge takes place at Christmas, so it does seem most likely that this particular scene does too. But Dickens never explicitly names Christmas as the time when Belle and Scrooge's split took place. Most adaptations place it on Christmas Eve or thereabouts, but at least one very book-faithful adaptation, Richard Williams's 1971 animated short, sets the scene in a green park in the spring or summer. Nor, unlike in some adaptations, is Fan said to have died at Christmastime. She almost definitely didn't, since the Ghost only mentions her death rather than taking Scrooge to revisit it.

Scrooge visits the Cratchit house on Christmas Day. Many adaptations condense the action to have Scrooge visit the Cratchits and show them his newfound benevolence on Christmas Day itself. But in the book, he reveals his transformation to Bob when he arrives at work on St. Stephen’s Day.

Scrooge wears a nightshirt throughout his adventure with the spirits. So many adaptations depict Scrooge in a nightshirt that it can be hard to imagine him dressed in any other way. This is no doubt enhanced by the fact that in John Leech’s original illustrations, Scrooge’s dressing gown is white – since we rarely see white dressing gowns made for men in modern times, it’s easy to mistake it for a long nightshirt. But the book describes him as putting on his dressing gown and nightcap over his day clothes before settling down by the fire to eat his gruel (an understandable choice at night in the era before central heating, especially since miserly Scrooge doesn’t make his fire very big), and after his exhausting encounter with Marley’s Ghost, he falls into bed “without undressing.” Even in Leech’s illustrations, his trouser leg is visible in the scene where he kneels at his own grave. A book-accurate Scrooge would spend his whole adventure with the ghosts wearing his dressing gown over his shirt and trousers: a costume that so far, only a handful of screen Scrooges have worn.

The Ghost of Christmas Past and Scrooge fly over the rooftops of London before they arrive in the past. This is a ubiquitous image from the screen adaptations, starting with the 1938 MGM film. But in the book, they simply pass through the wall of Scrooge’s chamber and are instantly standing in the countryside of his boyhood.

The Ghost of Christmas Past is female, or of indeterminate gender. The ghost is described as “it,” but so are Jacob Marley and the Ghost of Christmas Present, despite their blatantly male appearance. As for Christmas Past, its strange appearance is likened to both a child and an old man, and Scrooge addresses it as “sir”. That said, its touch is described as being “gentle as a woman’s hand,” and since its gender makes no difference to the plot, it makes sense that so many adaptations should cast it as female to add another role for an actress to a largely male-dominated story.

The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come is a skeleton beneath its cloak. The final ghost’s resemblance to the Grim Reaper has led several adaptations to imply, or eventually show, that its hidden form is that of a skeleton. But the book repeatedly describes the ghost's outstretched pointing hand, the only part of its body not hidden by the cloak, and its main method of communication to Scrooge. Nothing indicates that this hand is anything but a human hand with flesh on it. So at the very least, the ghost isn't entirely skeletal.

The great tragedy of Scrooge’s past was the loss of Belle. Many an adaptation gives Scrooge’s childhood a perfunctory treatment, or even passes it over altogether, and derive the chief pathos and lesson of the Christmas Past sequence from Scrooge’s broken engagement to Belle. But while Dickens’s Scrooge is obviously pained by revisiting that memory, and by the sight of her children who could have been his, he shows much more anguish at seeing himself as a neglected child alone in the bleak boarding school. He weeps uncontrollably when he revisits his childhood. So many adaptations reverse those emotional beats, having him show only restrained sadness over his childhood but then break down in tears over Belle’s departure. But those are adaptations, not the book.

The male thief in the Christmas Yet to Come sequence is an undertaker. Even though adaptations tend to portray him as the undertaker himself, the book calls him “the undertaker’s man.” He’s just an assistant, making it all the more natural that he should supplement his low income by pawning stolen goods.

The third spirit is called the Ghost of Christmas Future. No, it’s called the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come.

The three spirits are the ghosts of people from Scrooge’s past. I remember once reading a short sequel to the Carol by a modern author, which revealed that the Ghost of Christmas Past was the ghost of Belle, the Ghost of Christmas Present was Fezziwig, and the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come was Dick Wilkins. Each one of the spirits has also been speculated to be the ghost of Fan, or portrayed as such in some adaptation or other. This is pure speculation, though. There’s no hint that any of the Ghosts of Christmas were ever human.

The visions of Christmas Yet to Come all take place at the same Christmas. People tend to assume that Scrooge's death and Tiny Tim's death are shown as taking place near the same time. This leads some to assume that Scrooge has only a year left to live at the end of the story, since the Ghost of Christmas Present predicted that with no change, Tim would have died in less than a year. But if Scrooge has only a year left to live, then how would he have enough time to become "a second father" to Tiny Tim, and how could it always be said of him that he knew how to keep Christmas well if he won't live to see another Christmas? Of course we could assume that after his transformation, his new lease on life will give him more years to live. But Dickens writes that the visions of the future seemed to occur in no particular order. So it might be that while the scene dealing with Tiny Tim's death takes place only a year in the future, the scenes dealing with Scrooge's death take place many years later.

Tiny Tim is a saintly, all-forgiving child. Several adaptations show Tim echoing his father’s gratitude to Scrooge, eagerly drinking the toast to him, and/or objecting to his other family members’ negative talk about him. But surprisingly, the book implies that even Tim shares his mother’s grim view of Scrooge rather than his father’s generous spirit toward him. “Tiny Tim drank [the toast to Scrooge] last of all,” Dickens writes, “but he didn’t care twopence for it.”

Tiny Tim is the youngest Cratchit child. This is an easy assumption to make, and the book never contradicts it. But it never explicitly calls him the youngest either. It’s possible (not necessary, but possible) to interpret the description of Tim’s unnamed brother and sister as “the two young Cratchits” as indicting that those two are the youngest children and Tim is slightly older. At least one adaptation, the 1999 TV film with Patrick Stewart, portrays them this way.

Tiny Tim has a chronic cough. Several adaptations – The Muppet Christmas Carol, 2001's Christmas Carol: The Movie, and 2022's Scrooge: A Christmas Carol – use the classic shorthand for "very sick" by giving Tiny Tim a bad cough. But the book never describes him as coughing. Might he have had a cough, though? Well, that depends on what disease he has, which we don't know. If we assume he has spinal tuberculosis, like Dickens's young nephew Harry Burnett Jr. who allegedly inspired the character, then he likely has pulmonary tuberculosis too, and presumably does have a cough. But if he has some other disease, then he might not. (See below for more on the subject.)

Tiny Tim was crippled from birth. Every now and then we hear this statement in descriptions of the character. But the book never actually specifies if Tim was born with his disability or not. Since Tim’s disease is never specified (see below), it’s impossible to know if he was born with it or developed it later.

Tiny Tim’s illness. We only know that Tim has his limbs supported by an iron frame and requires a crutch to walk, has a small, feeble voice and “withered” hands, and would have died within a year if not for Scrooge’s transformation. But he survives (though the text never says he was cured, only that he didn’t die) thanks to Scrooge improving the Cratchits’ fortunes. Several theories exist regarding his disease. One possibility is Pott’s Disease, which Dickens’s young nephew Harry Burnett Jr. suffered from: spinal tuberculosis, which wasn’t curable in the 19th century, but could go into remission with the right care and nutrition. Another is renal tubular acidosis, a kidney disease that makes the blood too acidic and causes bone deterioration: this disease was curable in the 19th century, though its rareness makes some critics doubt that Dickens would have thought of it. Yet another suggestion is rickets, although this is a nutritional disorder, so it seems unlikely because none of Tim’s siblings seem to be affected. Cases can be made both for and against quite a few different diseases.

#a christmas carol #canon vs fanon #charles dickens #literature #adaptations #long #tw: death #tw: illness #tw: antisemitism

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bravevolunteer · 5 months

Text

VERSE — THE H.UNGER G.AMES ( tw for canon typical themes )

The Aftons are from District 3, where Michael grew up watching his father contribute to its technological industry. There was little room for individual innovation, only mass production based on the Capitol's demands, but that didn't stop William from working on his own inventions in private: he and Henry Emily began to create new achievements in robotics.

By carefully pulling the right strings, William managed to attract Capitol attention, causing their inventions to grow in popularity among its citizens, which was shockingly unique for a concept originating in the districts and elevated status for the Aftons within 3.

Loose concept centers around robotic/animatronic technology that could be used for "menial work," but rises with a strong focus on entertainment. The Capitol loves a good show!

This relatively stable foundation is shook when Michael is reaped. Hopes weren't very high, given the lack of winners from 3 and Michael's uncooperative tendencies ( he quickly became known for what was deemed a reckless temper ).

During the games, he operated alone for the most part, too distrusting of potential alliances. He didn't risk the bloodbath, so he had to scrounge and fight for it, but he eventually acquired some supplies: most notably parts for traps.

Michael decided to use anything he could find to rig various traps using a lock and release method shown to him by his father: springlocks. A simplified version to be achievable within the games, but good enough to catch other tributes

This was late in the game, so he only made a few kills with it, but it was undoubtedly how his win was achieved.

The officials didn’t take well to it, appalled by Michael’s use of technology growing in Capitol popularity mocking what was allowed in the arena and the fact that they let this tech take off. Something clearly learned because of district innovation, something now punishable to show that it will not be tolerated again.

Michael had barely been pulled from the arena when the Afton household was barged into, killing Evan as punishment for Michael’s actions ( didn’t kill William because of his value as a manufacturer and intended to silence both of them with Evan’s death ).

When Michael sees his remaining family again, they are struck with grief, it’s only then that he is told what happened, met with bitterness in his father’s eyes instead of relief, the man who seemed to encourage violence and control angry with the results, Michael using something that should’ve been a source of pride to win and being met with resentment.

The atmosphere in their new house in Victor’s Village is tense at best, explosive at worst. Michael suffers extreme PTSD, paranoia, and nightmares from the games and his brother’s death… he isn’t a very cooperative or sociable Victor either, though intense guilt holds potential further punishment over his head, keeping him relatively at bay and complying with Capitol demands, although he isn’t very good at it.

His father does take advantage of the power that comes with a family with victor status, also heavily holding this over Michael’s head to control him both as a means of making sure they aren’t killed and so Michael doesn’t ruin his chances of rising through the ranks again.

William does eventually spiral into… the other side of the Afton family business, simplifying the concept of remnant into developing a highly enhanced drug/technological alterations that strengthens the body and extends the lifespan… using young victims… idk hunger games science- ( as for when Michael finds out about this/what it unfolds into that’s open for now )

Michael as a mentor. Losing a lot of will to keep going but still fighting for the kids to live despite it being a losing battle. Themes and motifs.

#im spinning around more vaguer thoughts about michael’s games/the aftermath & him as a mentor but this is long enough as is #as always i can never just make things simple i HAVE to talk about the whole family so all i’ve said about william #is flexible on the off chance that anyone’s interested lmao #i’m just. having brainrot #local deranged guy somehow translates the plot of the afton family into the hunger games #also. disorganized bc the thoughts themselves are scattered #thg verse tbt.

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lemony-snickers · 2 years

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Ooo! What about! Kakashi who assigns his partner(possibly a masc reader?) to be his "bodyguard" on his hokage business so they can stay together (also because he trusts them more than anyone else) but they take it super seriously

It'd go like

K: why don't you stay in my tent tonight to "keep me safe" ;)

Y/n: *stays up all night keeping watch*

hey there, my friend! apologies for the wait, i hope you enjoy this little fic. <3

Title: The Bodyguard (AO3 Link Here) Summary: When Kakashi assigned his partner to be his bodyguard for the evening, he hardly expected him to take the job quite so seriously. Word Count: 1,928 Warnings: masc!reader, nothing else, really. this be fluff. .

Kakashi disliked many things about being Hokage. Not the least of these were the long trips required when he made dignitary visits to other countries.

If here was still just Kakashi Hatake, the trip to the Land of Waves would have taken half the time he’d already been on the road, and they were barely more than halfway to their destination. Because now that he was Kakashi Hatake, Rokudaime of the Hidden Leaf Village, it was expected that he would not travel alone. He had to bring other representatives of the village with him. He was required to have a full ANBU detail to guard him. There was a representative from Terror & Interrogation as well-versed in poisons as Anko or Shizune had ever been who tested his food for him when they arrived in strange and distant locales.

It was exhausting, having to drag his feet through the dirt—on the rare occasions when they allowed him to walk, anyway; most of the time the ANBU Commander tried to get him to sit in a carriage and be pulled, which was mortifying—when he knew he could run three times as fast as the scouts two kilometers ahead.

Kakashi would never understand all the pomp and circumstance of the Hokage’s office. Wouldn’t it make more sense to just do things simply? To save money by not requiring such a huge contingent to travel long distances just because he wore some big, stupid hat?

Okay, Kakashi realized that was not the only thing his title dictated. And he knew how important it was to keep the Hokage safe.

He was no longer only himself; he was responsible for countless lives—civilian and shinobi. If he died, it would throw Konoha into chaos and cause undue strain on the entire population and economy as they tried to settle Naruto into the seat as quickly as possible, whether he was ready or not.

Kakashi groaned, allowing his posture to collapse even more than usual. Exhausted, he dragged his palms over his half-covered face in an attempt to stimulate some sort of alertness.

Only a few more days and they would finally arrive. Maybe he’d even have a chance to sneak away for a few precious moments of silence with you.

You.

At least your presence made the trip somewhat tolerable. Kakashi had been hesitant to add you to his security detail at first, not because he didn’t think you were a good fit for the job, but because he was afraid the perception of nepotism might hurt your reputation. Not many people knew the two of you were involved, and he thought those who did could certainly be trusted, but there was no accounting for gossip in the Hidden Leaf Village.

Intriguing tidbits of information often spread like wildfire amongst the shinobi forces—chatter and rumors were well-used methods by which many ninja blew off steam in the locker rooms after grueling missions.

Still, you’d convinced him the risk would be worth it because of the additional time you’d be able to enjoy in one another’s presence, even if it was primarily in an official capacity.

Of course, Kakashi had not accounted for how seriously you would take the appointment.

“No touching,” you had reminded him countless times in the Hokage’s office. “Not while I’m on duty.”

Kakashi let his gaze drift away from the paperwork before him to the mouth of his tent, the flap pinned open to let in the cool night air. There you stood, posture straight as a steel rod and head swiveling constantly. He would be lying if he said he did not admire the way the firelight outside danced along the ridges of your arms, highlighting the muscles left bare by the ANBU uniform.

Too bad he couldn’t reach over and drag you toward him as he wanted to.

He sighed, knowing you would never allow such a thing while the prying eyes of your comrades roamed the campsite beyond the Hokage’s tent.

Despite all he knew about your serious demeanor, however, Kakashi had hoped maybe you would allow yourself to relax tonight. And in spite of the obvious, when Kakashi had assigned you as his bodyguard for the evening, this was not what he had anticipated the night looking like.

“Are you sure he’s the right person to keep watch?” your Commander had asked. You were not typically stationed as the Hokage’s primary protection, mostly for your own safety. Kakashi hated the idea that you might one day feel compelled to stand between his body and an assassination attempt.

“There’s no one I trust more,” he’d said truthfully, ignoring the strange tilt of the Commander’s head as he peered at Kakashi through the ANBU mask.

“Very well, my Lord.”

Kakashi grit his teeth every time he heard the title uttered. It still felt wrong, somehow. Like a pair of shoes that were too tight or a hitai-ate that kept slipping over his nose.

“Serval.”

Kakashi tried to keep his voice calm and level as he called for you by your ANBU moniker. You turned, the harsh firelight outside contrasting with the single candle lighting Kakashi’s tent, throwing your ceramic mask into sharp relief—basking in a warm orange glow on one side while it was plunged into shadow on the other.

An apt visual metaphor for the life of an ANBU, Kakashi thought wryly.

“Sir?”

Kakashi hated when you called him that. It wasn’t quite as egregious as my Lord, which he’d had to beg you not to use, but it still sent a shiver of revulsion through him.

“Don’t call me that.”

Your posture stiffened slightly at the rebuke, and Kakashi softened his gaze and beckoned you in.

“Close the flap.”

You did as instructed—of course you did, you were a model soldier, always had been—and stepped further into the tent, hands clasped behind you as you awaited further instructions.

Kakashi gestured to the cushion opposite the low table he was working at. “Sit,” he said.

You hesitated. “Sir—” you sighed as you caught Kakashi’s perturbed expression, “Kakashi, I’m supposed to be keeping watch. I’m not sure this is—”

“What did you think I meant when I said I wanted you to stay with me tonight?”

Your head tilted much as your Commander’s had earlier in the evening—as if every ANBU operative underwent the same training in order to nonverbally communicate confusion.

“I’m not sure what you mean, S—” Your voice trailed off in an incoherent mutter.

Kakashi sighed, rising from his position with a small amount of effort. His back protested at his prolonged sitting, hamstrings crying out for attention, though he ignored them.

He moved swiftly over to you and removed your ANBU mask before you could stop him—the surprise clearly written over your newly-revealed features, the handsome face Kakashi loved so much.

He couldn’t help but smile when he was finally able to look at you. There was something about you—your face, your voice, your very being—that made him feel far more safe and protected than any security detail would ever be capable of.

“Do you know why I assigned you to this mission, Serval?”

Kakashi hated not using your real name, but he thought he should approach this topic carefully. You were still technically on duty, and he understood how seriously you took all your responsibilities—especially those related to him.

“Because I’m an excellent member of the Hokage Protection Detail,” you said, pride puffing out your chest as you tried not to smile. Kakashi was glad his mask somewhat hid the fact that he was beaming. “And I’m an asset to you and your entire convoy.”

Kakashi’s smile fell.

The fucking convoy. Kakashi had to strain very hard not to roll his eyes. What he would have preferred in every way was for the two of you to make the trip alone. It would have been quicker, more relaxing, and far more unassuming than the ridiculous parade of Konoha’s forces he was currently part of.

Why was stealth not considered a better option than pageantry? Was his status as Hokage really best represented by a growing number of staff and advisors than ability?

“That’s all true,” Kakashi said, setting your mask aside. He watched your eyes flicker over to the cool ceramic, mouth pulling down at the edges like a disappointed seam.

He could admit you were even more handsome when you frowned, the lines between your brows making you look more ruggedly attractive.

“But the main reason I assigned you here with me,” he said, letting his voice drop down into a whisper so you had to lean forward to hear him, “is because I wanted to spend time with you.”

He could see the embarrassment radiate from your body, from the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed to how your weight shifted subtly from one foot to the other.

“Sir, err, Kakashi, I—I’m not sure that’s wholly appropriate,” you said, clearing your throat and trying to maintain a veneer of professionalism.

“What’s inappropriate about me wanting to spend time with my partner?” Kakashi asked as he shrugged himself out of his vest. He let one of his hands drift to your bicep, fingers gliding over the warm skin of your arm until he reached the armor hitched around your forearm and loosened it with a deft flick. You fumbled to catch it before it fell to the ground.

“Kakashi, I am on duty,” you protested as he reached up to unfasten your ANBU vest.

“Yes,” he said, “and as your Hokage, I am ordering you to spend the evening with me because I don’t want to be alone.”

Your stiff posture softened when he threaded his fingers into your hair and kissed you on the cheek, the fabric of his mask still lingering between you.

“Besides,” Kakashi added as he stretched his neck, turning toward his bedroll, “What sort of Hokage would I be if I required protection all the time? I’m certain you and I can handle any enemies that might make it past your comrades on patrol, even if we’re asleep.”

You laughed, a deep, inviting sound that made the tension between Kakashi’s shoulder blades melt away.

“That’s better,” he said, smiling as he watched you undo the rest of your armor and settle onto the bedroll with him.

“Just for a little while,” you whispered, “until you’re asleep.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”

Kakashi woke a few hours later to find you seated at the edge of the thin camping pad, perceptive gaze trained on the entrance to the tent, which remained undisturbed. He wanted to grumble, to drag you back beneath the covers with him and never let you leave.

Instead, he shifted up until he was seated, also.

“Go back to sleep,” you said, sending him a half-warning smile, “You need to rest.”

You’d left the armor off, at least, which meant he could feel the heat radiating from your back as he settled his own against it, facing the opposite direction.

“If you’re keeping watch, then so am I,” he said.

You chuckled. “It’s my job to keep you safe, Hokage-sama.”

Kakashi shook his head, knowing you were teasing him with the formal title.

All the teasing left your voice when he answered, though.

“And it’s my job to keep you safe,” he said. “So we’ll keep watch together.”

Perhaps not the night he had envisioned, but expectations hardly mattered, as long as he was able to spend it with you.

#lemony scribbles #kakashi hatake #kakashi x you #kakashi x reader #masc!reader #kakashi fluff #idiots in love #🏳️‍🌈 anon

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