#his role as our truth. he wants /us/ to remember. to know and understand.

[dunebrat]

FORBIDDEN HEIR ˚ ♡ ˚

Feyd Rautha x reader

Summary : you find yourself trapped in a loveless marriage to Glossu Beast Rabban, a man whose brutality knows no bounds. Unable to bear him an heir, you turn to Feyd Rautha, in a desperate bid to secure your position within the ruthless Harkonnen house

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As a year passed since your marriage to Glossu Beast Rabban, whispers began to swirl among the women of the court. Their curious glances and subtle inquiries cut deeper than any blade, their judgment heavy in the air like a suffocating fog. You, younger than your husband and eager to prove your worth, felt the weight of their scrutiny like a leaden burden upon your shoulders. Each passing day brought with it a new wave of gossip, their tongues wagging with speculation and thinly veiled accusations.

"Why hasn't she borne him an heir yet?"

"Is she barren, or just unwilling to fulfill her duty?"

"She's too young to understand the importance of her role."

Their words stung like venom, poisoning the fragile bond between you and Glossu. As the months pass by, your husband becomes increasingly frustrated by your inability to conceive. He watches as other noble families celebrate the arrival of heirs, while the halls of the Harkonnen palace remain devoid of the pitter-patter of tiny feet. "Why have you not given me an heir yet?" he demands, his voice laced with anger and disappointment.

You feel a pang of guilt and shame as his accusatory gaze falls upon you. You know the truth that it's not for lack of trying, but rather a cruel twist of fate that has left you barren. You try to explain, to reassure him that you are doing everything in your power to fulfill your duty, but Glossu's fury knows no bounds. "You are worthless to me if you cannot bear me a child!" he bellows, his words echoing through the palace corridors.

You shrink back, feeling the weight of his words like a physical blow. You have devoted yourself to him, to the Harkonnen name, and yet it seems that will never be enough. Women were

Later that night with trembling hands and a heart heavy with guilt, you approached Feyd-Rautha. His aura, both dark and dangerous, sent shivers down your spine. But this was your last chance for a child, a flicker of hope in a sea of despair. "Please," you pleaded, your voice barely above a whisper, "it's not Glossu's fault. Your brother's health that stands in our way. I beg of you, Feyd, help me conceive an heir or I will be sent away if I cannot do this"

His gaze bore into yours, a calculating glint betraying the mask of indifference he wore. Silence hung in the air. Then, with a tilt of his head and a ghost of a smile, Feyd-Rautha spoke, his voice like velvet wrapped around steel. "I'll consider your proposal, but remember, my dear sister-in-law, every deal with the devil comes with its price."

"I understand. Whatever the cost, I am willing to pay it." You responded

He smirks as he turns to leave, you're left alone with your thoughts

Later that night you found yourself underneath him, his cock pounding into you as he took what was rightfully yours. You could feel the power and dominance of him inside you, claiming your body for himself.

He wanted to breed you, to make you his. And as he continued to fuck you with a primal intensity, it was clear that this wasn't just about sex for him-it was an act of possession and control. He wanted to own you, and he was going to take what he thought belonged to him. He went for hours claiming you as your husband was away on another planet handling business. Taking you in every position and using your body for his own pleasure. He doesn't care about your needs or desires-he just wants to use you as a vessel for his lustful urges.

He cums inside you

you feel his hot seed fill your womb. He collapses on top of you, breathing heavily as he tries to catch his breath. You lay there beneath him, feeling the weight of his body pressing down upon yours. You can feel his heart beating against your chest, and you know that he is still inside of you. He slowly pulls out of you with a soft moan as the last drops of cum drip from him onto you.

He rolls off of you and lays next to you, his breathing still heavy. You lay there for a moment, trying to catch your breath as well. You can feel his cum dripping out of you, and it's a strange feeling. It feels like he has claimed your body as his own-like this is what was always meant to be between the two of you. You reach down and touch your pussy, feeling the wetness of his cum on you. It's a strange sensation-one that is both comforting and exciting at the same time.

The affair between you and Feyd unfolded as the nights passed, your meetings became bolder. As the weeks passed, a wave of nausea washed over you, leaving you weak and trembling in its wake.

Desperate for relief, you sought solace in the chambers of the healers, their gentle ministrations offering fleeting respite from the relentless onslaught of sickness. Yet, despite their best efforts, the cause of your affliction remained a mystery, shrouded in uncertainty and fear. Then, one fateful day, Glossu's booming voice echoed through the halls of the stronghold, his announcement sending shockwaves through the court like a bolt of lightning on a clear day.

"Gather round, my loyal subjects," he declared, his voice ringing with pride and triumph. "For it brings me great joy to announce that my beloved wife is with child."

A chorus of cheers erupted from the assembled crowd, their cries mingling with the pounding of your heart as you stood frozen in disbelief.

A knowing smirk tugged at the corners of Feyd's lips as you make eye contact with the true father of your child

Part 2 coming soon 𓏲◜ 🎀

#feyd oneshot #feyd rautha #feyd smut #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha smut #feyd imagine #feyd rautha x reader #fey

[elains]

Azriel's association with Enalius, what it means for his arc and Illyria

This is something me and my friends have talked about off tumblr, but I wanted to write my own post about it and gather my thoughts. But here, I'll discuss a bit Azriel's character and how the revelations we witness in House of Flame and Shadow will be important to his character. (+ a little bit of Emerie).

What do we know about Enalius? From ACOSF, Emerie provides us with a little exposition when they are in the Rite, when the Pass of Enalius is brought up:

Long ago—so long ago they don’t even have a precise date for it—a great war was fought between the Fae and the ancient beings who oppressed them. One of its key battles was here, in these mountains. Our forces were battered and outnumbered, and for some reason, the enemy was desperate to reach the stone at the top of Ramiel. We were never taught the reason why; I think it’s been forgotten. But a young Illyrian warrior named Enalius held the line against the enemy soldiers for days.

Now, from the Crescent City crossover, we learned that Truth-teller and Gwydion are twin blades. They are a pair. According to the Silene History Lesson, the dagger used to belong to her father's (Fionn's) dear friend, slain during the war. A bit later, when they find Vesperus, she confirms that this friend was Enalius:

The Asteri’s eyes flared with recognition at the long blade. “Did Fionn send you, then? To slay me in my sleep? Or was it that traitor Enalius? I see that you bear his dagger—as his emissary? Or his assassin?”

Immediately before that, she also confirms that the Asteri crafted (which can either mean created, shaped forged, but we are going with created) the Illyrians:

The Asteri’s blue eyes lowered to the dagger. “You dare draw a weapon before me? Against those who crafted you, soldier, from night and pain?”

From everything, we can conclude this: Enalius was the original wielder of Truth-teller before Fionn and Theia, a dear friend to Fionn, and someone who pulled the ultimate sacrifice to keep the Asteri/Daglan from reaching the top of Ramiel. He was a traitor to the Asteri, a rebel against his masters and everything they stood for.

Enalius is the hero most Illyrians strive to mimic, the legendary figure who they all hope to one day surpass. He's a symbol of their people, even if so much about him has been forgotten — the fact that he had a dagger, Fionn's friendship, what the battle was for, maybe even how he was as a person. Brave, for sure. Willing to die for the cause.

And it's Azriel who bears his dagger. Azriel, who has such a complicated relationship with his Illyrian heritage and loaths it - and by extension, himself - is the one with this enormous legacy right at this hand. And this matters.

Still in ACOSF, we have Rhys talking with Cassian and wanting him to play Courtier, the following exchange then follows:

“What, we’re doing some role reversal? Az gets to lead the Illyrians now?” “Don’t play stupid,” Rhys said coolly. Cassian rolled his eyes. But they both knew Azriel would sooner disband and destroy Illyria than help it. Convincing their brother that the Illyrians were a people worth saving was still a battle amongst the three of them.

Azriel hates the Illyrians for what happened to him and his mother and his dislike for them is, to a degree, understandable. The thing is that Azriel, no matter how much he loaths it, is Illyrian. Maybe he's more than that (as it's pointed that Az is different in a lot of ways and Bryce wonders if he is Starborn), but at heart, he's Illyrian. Siphons, leathers, fighting, being Carynthian, his wings, his scabbard and the dagger it holds.

It was healthy, perhaps, for Az to sometimes remember where he'd come from. He still wore the Illyrian leathers. Had not tried to get the tattoos removed. Some part of him was Illyrian still. Always would be. Even if he wished to forget it.

Being Illyrian is part of who he is and his deep hatred for them only fuel his self-loathing. He would like to set himself apart, but he is not.

We can actually draw a direct parallel between Azriel and Bryce with how they regard the Fae vs the Illyrians. Bryce loathes the Fae and for most of HoFaS, she believes they are evil, corrupt, power-hungry and quite generally, not worth saving. She would leave them all to burn. Sound familiar?

And Bryce is wrong. Sathia challenges her notion, pointing out that she's laying judgement to all fae and that is hardly fair. What the one who don't deserve it? Herself, yes, but Flynn, Declan, and Ruhn himself? Do they deserve to burn too? Bryce herself acknowledges this:

Urd had sent her there to see, even in the small fraction of their world that she’d witnessed, that Fae existed who were kind and brave. She might have had to betray Nesta and Azriel, trick them … but she knew that at their cores, they were good people. The Fae of Midgard were capable of more. Ruhn proved it. Flynn and Dec proved it. Even Sathia proved it, in the short time Bryce had known her.

And this part here sums up quite neatly:

Fire met starlight met shadows, and Bryce loosed herself on the world. It ended today. Here. Now. This had nothing to do with the Asteri, or Midgard. The Fae had festered under leaders like these males, but her people could be so much more.

There are Illyrians who are kind and brave and break the mold. We see this with Emerie, who is also a woman. We see that with Balthazar, Cassian. The main point stands, though, that you cannot judge or condemn an entire race for the bad apples.

Azriel is wrong, just as Bryce was wrong, and his journey will be also to realise that his people are worth saving. They were created of night and pain (words that Azriel embodies, being a master of shadows and a torturer), but that is not everything they need to be. They can be more than soldiers. They can thrive.

And I believe this was something Enalius himself came to the believe, long ago. His people deserved more than to be slaves to the Asteri, forced to give them their power when need be, bred to live and die for them. They could be more. And Enalius died to free his people from their chains.

Is Azriel Enalius's blooded descendant? I'm not sure, but he doesn't need to be. Azriel is Enalius successor because he will finish what was started. He'll uncover the secrets of the past, what his people were in truth, what Enalius rebelled for, what he stood for, what the Blood Rite truly means - which he only got a glimpse of.

And this is where I think Emerie will also come in. She's s one of ACOSF most relevant characters and the first female Illyrian to be Carynthian. I think Emerie will also become an inspirational figure to the Illyrian women, another of these what they coud be. What they can be. And more importantly and that is just a theory, what they were.

Orestes was a warrior. What if so was Carynth and she was woman? The name always struck me as similar to Carina, which is the name of a constellation and commonly used by women. It would be ironic and another shaking revelation to the Illyrians that Carynth, for whom their greatest warriors are named after, was a woman.

Does that mean all Illyrian women must become Valkyries? No, but some might wish to follow this path whilst their society takes its time to catch up. They already shook the status quo and with Nesta poised to have a big role (andthe Valkyries along her), they will continue to do so.

Azriel will uncovered the lost history of Vesperus offered him all the clues he needed to start looking. His journey to find out this secrets will lead to him facing his own demons, confronting his loathing for his people and, in doing so, he will make peace with himself.

#hofas spoilers #azriel #shout out to yaz for helping me fish the quotes #my meta #acotar #acosf #emerie #illyria

[buckyownsmylife]

don't - manager!henry cavill smut

The one where Henry is your much older manager, but that doesn’t stop you from falling for him.

Warnings: age gap, secret relationship, parents disapproval, smut, unprotected sex, celeb!reader

Henry’s P.O.V.

I watched her from afar, the flashing lights not nearly as blinding as she could be. She was magnificent, but not because of the designer dress or the bling that she was always scared would be too much. It was all her. Her personality, her smile, the way her eyes shined brighter than anything under the sun. And when her eyes met mine after she was done posing for the pictures, I felt like time had stopped right then and there.

I should be so lucky.

She smiled at me, and I couldn’t help but think that this was unfair. Why was I so much older than her? Why did we have to meet in these circumstances? Why had I met someone so close to perfection, only to be unable to ever have her?

Those were ridiculous questions, I knew. Questions I’d never know the answer. And while sometimes the anger of having to stand so close to paradise without being able to live in it did consume my waking thoughts and recurring nightmares, most of the time I was able to live with that knowledge.

The knowledge that at least I could be near her. Touch her. Have her the way I wanted to. Even if it wasn't exactly that. It was something, at least. It was better than nothing. Having her was better than not being near her at all.

“You ready to go?” She asked when she approached me, and I swallowed down the lump in my throat to guide her through the sea of people in the direction of our seats. She hesitated for a second, looking in the direction of the exit, but came anyway. I knew what she was thinking and feeling - I’d known her long enough, intimately enough, to know that there was nothing that she despised more than this sort of event.

“It’ll be over soon,” I reminded her, even though it wasn’t necessarily the truth, simply because I couldn’t reach out and hold her hand like I wanted to actually comfort her. “We’ll be back home in no time.” When she looked up at me, I could see in her eyes that the words had elicited the same thoughts in her as they did in me.

Home. The place where we didn’t have to hide.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I took a deep breath when we were inside the house again and the door closed behind us, signaling the end of a long and tiring day. It felt like the first one I’d done in a long time, like I’d been deep underwater and only now was able to get back to the surface, reacquaint myself with the oxygen again.

It wasn’t all bad, I know, but it *was getting harder and harder to get through these things when I had him so close to me, but had to stop myself from reaching out and just hold his hand like I wanted to. The more in love I fell, the harder it was to remember that the world shouldn’t know about this feeling that had grown between us. It was difficult to believe that opening our relationship to outsider’s views wouldn’t simply maximize this feeling of peace that I only got when I was with him.

“Tell me the truth,” he started, and I already smiled, despite my somber mood. “Didn’t you have a good time, after all?” It had been a nice night, that remained true despite my tendency to focus on the bad. I’d even won a couple awards, and that always felt nice. Still, it hurt so much not to be able to thank him when I went up there, and I couldn’t recognize his role in my life for what it truly was - my inspiration, my love.

“Yes.” It was clear that my word hid a ‘but’. “I just wish everyone could know I’m yours.” It was then, and only then, that I turned around to meet his eyes. I don’t know what I expected to find there - probably understanding, maybe even resentment for finding himself stuck in this situation with me, but when pain was what I found in his beautiful eyes, my bottom lip started trembling.

“I owe you so much, Bear.” I’d been calling him that ever since we first started working together, when I was still a teenager with big dreams and no real understanding of how Hollywood worked. “I just wanted to be able to acknowledge that.”

He pulled me into his arms then, but instead of just holding me against his chest, like he usually did when he wanted to comfort me, his hands cradled my face and I instinctively raised to my tiptoes so he could lap into my mouth, tasting me for the first time in the evening. It felt so good to have his lips on mine again, it felt like a lifetime away when I was last able to kiss him. So I lost myself in the kiss, allowing him to take my hair out of the fancy bun so he could bury his fingers in my strands, curl them to pull me away from him and say, “You’re everything to me, darling. People knowing about it won’t change a thing. My smile is still for you and you only, just like I know yours is for me.”

My heart filled with love for the man in front of me. I let him pick me up, wrapping my legs around him as he took us to the bedroom we’d been sharing for so long, promising me that he’d “make me forget all about it.” 

And that’s when I remembered why we stayed together despite the hardships. I’d live through one thousand shitty days if it meant I’d get to have him like this at night, mine and only mine.

Our lips were still fused together when he deposited me by the foot of the bed, and I felt his fingers slowly unzip my dress until he could slip it off of me. “Let’s go to bed, baby.” I’d follow him anywhere if he just kept looking at me like that.

Henry’s P.O.V.

I couldn’t stop the small smile from spreading over my face as I watched her join me in bed, her body trembling with anticipation. She was always so eager, my little angel. It only made me feel more powerful, knowing how thoroughly she enjoyed it when I took care of her. 

And God, how I loved taking care of her. “You look so beautiful like this, my love,” I whispered as I cupped her face with one hand, guiding her to climb my body with the other. “You want me to fuck you?” By now she couldn’t speak, just whine. Her smaller body rubbed against my lower belly, her pussy betraying her desire as it slathered her wetness just over my stomach.

“Come here, let me give you what you need.” I easily adjusted her so she’d be hovering right over my cock before I pulled her down by her hips, a gasp escaping me as I felt her tightness slowly engulfing my hard member. Instinctively, my thumb found her nub, rubbing it in tight little circles so I could be sure she would find her pleasure before me. “Yeah, you like that, huh?” I teased when she whimpered, hips following my movement as she narrowed her eyes at me.

I raised my feet to the bed so I could have the leverage I needed to invert our positions, taking advantage of the space between her legs to stuff myself inside of her over and over again. I loved feeling her from the inside. I loved that I was the only one to have her like this, the only one who knew what made her fall apart and meet the heavens above. I’d spent the entire ceremony thinking about this moment and now that I had her, I wanted to appreciate every single sound that escaped her perfect lips.

It was bliss, having her like this, hearing her moans and being the cause for them. I knew just how to make her louder, I knew just what and how she liked it. Thinking back on how it had all started, I never expected to have the luck I now knew I possessed, being with her like this.

I came inside of her with a shudder. It was the sight of her fucked out face, her eyes hazy with bliss, and the knowledge that I was about to get her dirty with my seed that ultimately had me reaching my own orgasm.

“You’re mine, darling,” I assured her, pulling out to lay back on the bed and bring her to my chest. “I’d do anything for you.” And I knew she was aware of that. Her only response was to push away from my heartbeat to deposit a kiss on my lips - a passionate, breathtaking kiss, that left me with my eyes closed for a few seconds after we parted.

“I love you, Henry.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I woke up with a familiar ache between my legs, the perfect mixture of sensitive and empty that had me filling myself with two fingers only to find the remnants of last night waiting for me. My heart pounded as I considered talking to Henry about stopping taking the pill. It was something that had been in my mind for a while and never failed to make me aroused, but I still hadn’t found the courage to address it with him.

Maybe today was the day.

Deciding to take a quick shower before finding something to eat - I was always starving when I woke up, considering all the exercise Henry made me do just before falling asleep - I quickly washed my body before throwing a simple dress over it, hopping downstairs to fix the both of us breakfast before he woke up.

That was how Henry found me in the kitchen, wearing only some sweatpants, his body still deliciously wet from his own shower when he pressed it against me to give me a quick kiss on the temple.

“Hmm… Good morning, honey,” I greeted after he parted, laughing lightly when he went back to press another peck on my lips.

“Any morning with you is a great one, my love.” My heartbeat raced out of control, still not used to hearing these sorts of comments from him, even after all this time together.

The food was ready, so I turned the stove off, fully prepared to plate it for the both of us, but before I could, two hands made their way to my hips, quickly spinning me around to meet his lips once more.

“Henry!” I jokingly admonished, laughter spilling from my lips whenever he let go just to come back for another kiss again. “Baby, the food is going to get cold…” He didn’t seem to mind, too preoccupied with stealing kisses from me. I was about to give up and pull him in for a deep one when the doorbell rang, startling me into jumping away from his embrace.

“Gosh, who could it be?” The answer came sooner than expected since instead of waiting for one of us to go get the door, keys were heard and then it was being opened by the visitors, who clearly had a way of entering my house, which could only meant one thing: they were my parents.

“Oh, no.” The words escaped my lips before I could reel them in, as I considered the situation my parents would find us: Henry without a shirt on as we made breakfast for the both of us.

“Good morning!” My mom greeted us before stopping by the threshold of the kitchen, her eyes skimming the scene in front of us, just as my father did the same. “Are we interrupting something?”

That was a heavy question because the truth was a resounding yes, they were. In all of the years Henry and I had been together, my parents had never even gotten close to finding out about us - I made sure of that. But the last few months, with the paparazzi shots and inquiring fans, even they had become a bit uncomfortable about my relationship with my manager, and I couldn’t blame them for questioning when I knew what was the truth.

I was in love with a man twice my age, and there was nothing I could do about it. There was nothing that I wished to do, except keep on loving him forever and ever, until my dying days.

“Sweetheart, we came here to congratulate you on your win last night…” My mother rushed to explain, but not before sending a weird look towards Henry and I. “But also to grab that jacket that you promised to let me borrow, remember?”

I did. I also knew this was nothing but an excuse to get me out of the room, but I didn’t know how to fight back. “Please, go grab it for me,” my mother insisted, and after sending one last look to my beloved, I did exactly as she told me to, feeling a heavy weight on my chest for having left Henry behind.

Henry’s P.O.V.

“Stay, Henry.” I had tried to escape after she left, even though it was rude to leave guests unattended, but we all knew where this was headed, and it was a shit storm I was not looking forward to face. “We’d like to talk to you.”

I nodded and waited, wondering which one of the two would be the first to break the apparent calm exterior they were working so hard to maintain.

It was him.

“How could you?” Punching the island, it was a surprise that Y/N didn’t run back at the sound that she surely heard. “That’s my baby, and you took advantage of her!”

“I did no such thing,” I rushed to defend myself. “She’s an adult, she can make her own decisions. Don’t diminish her intelligence by making it seem as if she can’t.” He shook her head vehemently at that, and I knew I wouldn’t get through to him. It was his daughter we were talking about, his baby.

“Mom, dad.” It was her, and she looked pissed. So I was right, she had heard the sound of him punching the island because she didn’t even have the jacket her mother had told her to go get.

“Yes, it’s true. Henry and I are together, and there’s nothing that you can do about it.” Her parents’ mouths opened in protest, but she shut them up by holding her hand up in a gesture of patience.

“No, you need to hear this.” We all remained silent as we waited for what she had to share, and my heart sped up in anxiety at the prospect of what was to come. “I owe him everything. He knows me better than anyone else. And I can’t stand the thought of you ever doubting his character.”

While her parents rushed to apologize, all I could do was stand there and stare admiringly at the woman that I loved, the woman who had defended me so fiercely to her own parents.

Too bad I wouldn’t be able to show her my appreciation tonight.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Henry? What are you doing here?” I whispered-yelled at the man who was climbing onto my bed as if my parents weren’t on the room next-door.

“I can’t sleep without your body on top of mine,” he explained, and how could I be mad at that? Relaxing against my sheets, I allowed him to move so he’d glue his body against mine, but I wasn’t counting on feeling his incredible hard-on pressed against my thigh.

The rush of lust that engulfed me was instantaneous, and I turned around to capture his lips in a kiss, all while I climbed onto his body so I could rub my cunt against his clothed member.

“Are you sure?” Was all he asked, always so in sync to me that we didn’t need more than a few words to know what the other wanted, so I nodded. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to walk in the morning, but it would be worth it.

“Shh… You’ll have to be quiet, baby,” he tried to quiet me down as he slipped inside of me, and I inhaled sharply, trying to get through the first bite of pain of being stretched so throughly.

“There you go…” He silenced my cries with a kiss, and it didn’t take long for us to meet bliss together, as I laid spent on his chest.

“Are they right?” He asked suddenly, cutting through the silence of the night.

“No.” My answer was instantaneous, and I pushed myself away from his chest so I could stare into his eyes as I spoke the next few words in my mind: “No one can love me like you.”

“Do you love me?” It was my turn to be insecure, even though I knew the answer to the question, and I was reminded of it by the smile in his face.

“You’re the only one for me,” he reassured me with a deep kiss that left me breathless, and I kept my eyes closed after we parted.

“I hate the thought of not waking up next to you tomorrow,” I admitted, knowing he’d have to sneak out after I was asleep. He clutched me tighter against his chest, brushing a kiss against my forehead.

“I hope you know, I’ll never let you go.” I nodded, almost asleep when he completed, “You do know you don’t owe me anything, right?”

“It’s thanks to you I found out what love is,” I quietly explained. “I owe you everything.”

#my fics #henry cavill smut #henry cavill #smut #manager au #celeb au #henry cavill reader #henry cavill reader smut #rpf

[snacksizedgates]

Why Mike Referring to El as "Superman" is Byler Coded

*Note this theory has nothing to do with gender*

This is gonna be long. But don't worry. I think it's worth it.

El + Will

El and Will are intertwined. Interchangeable characters. Almost like doppelgängers or alter-egos. Yet sometimes behave or are placed in situations as if they are foils. Here's what I mean by this.

Season One

From the very beginning, Will and El are linked. When Will goes missing from Hawkins, El appears in the woods of Hawkins. Will is taken from the party and El is given to them (in a sense) when they find her. Immediately they are put in contrasting situations (foils) yet are interchangeable characters (I'll be calling this alter ego since doppelgänger isn't a completely accurate term

Physically she is smaller than the rest of the group, like Will, and she is also shy, like Will. She's not just shy because she doesn't know many words as we know from later seasons, when she knows a lot more English. Though she talks a bit more, she is still reserved with communication, just like Will.

And we can also see their characters mirror each other in the way other characters react to them. Not only just Mike but Lucas and Dustin eventually become protective over El just like they are with Will. Joyce becomes a motherly figure for El once she meets her. Not in season one but eventually Hopper becomes both of their father figures. The bullies make fun of her just like they make fun of Will. But from the very first few minutes, we understand Mike and Will have a special friendship compared to themselves with Lucas and Dustin. Will only tells Mike the truth about the dice. He doesn't lie. Mike's also very protective over and sensitive about Will. He notices he doesn't show up to school. He goes to his house to find him. He genuinely wants to help find Will, just like the others, but he's really adamant from the get go. He has a protector role. As soon as Will becomes lost and they find El in the woods, she takes Will's place in his absence. Immediately, Mike takes her under his wing and protects her. They have a thing about friends not lying, referencing the very first scene where Will doesn't lie to Mike, and only Mike. They both have a special relationship with Mike and it's emphasized by all the other similarities between Will and El. Such as...

Both of the characters being the only ones to have outwardly abusive, shitty fathers. Lonnie is a homophobic bully to his own son and would gladly exploit his death, while Brenner imprisoned El her entire childhood and did nothing but manipulate and exploit her. They both were taken from their mothers, who go crazy looking for them and never stop until they find them or are physically prevented from doing so :( They are the only characters alive who have been abducted, so they share a complex trauma that none of the others can relate to. Automatically this gives them a similar character profile starkly contrasted to the rest. They both feel a connection to the Upside Down and are the other characters main (only?) connections to the Upside Down.

Finally, in the final moments of season one, Will is brought back to the original Hawkins and El is taken into the Upside Down. Interchangeably. A transfer of their characters. The paralellism lol. And this brings us directly into season two.

But before that.

This next sentence is important, so pay attention. Essentially, the only major difference between Will and El is that Will has no powers. Remember this.

Season Two

So immediately in season two there is already another situational contrast between our mirrored characters; Will is now in Hawkins, placed back inside the party, and El was in the Upside Down until she was in the woods (just like Will except reversed) and then Hopper took her in (same person who saved Will), taken from the party. So Will is given back and El is taken. Almost like you can only have one because they're so interchangeable. So there are already many parallels.

**So many that I could stop here and make my Superman point honestly but this is too much fun. So if you want you can just skip to the end for the rest of the theory and it will still make sense. But I suggest reading the whole thing for it to really hit.**

Anyway. Now instead of El being the main character, Will is, at least in relation to the other party members. I would say both El and Will are the main main characters of s2, but regardless, Will takes her place as the main character in the party. So again, they switch places. Indicating they are interchangeable. Which is very important. Just like season one where the party members and eventually the other characters were protecting El from the bad men, they're now protecting Will from the Mind Flayer. He takes the place of protected and Mike is his main protector as far as the kids and teens. Not only that but there are tons of Byler moments in this season and they mirror how Mileven were in season one. If what's happening in a canon ship is happening in a supposed "unrequited" ship, then maybe that ship isn't so unrequited. If people even question it, maybe that ship isn't so canon.

But I digress. Lol

Just because Will and El are so alike doesn't mean they don't clash. That's why they're also foils, imo. And this is what we see in season three.

Season Three

So by clash I don't mean they don't like each other or have ill will for one and other. I mean the trope or role they hold in comparison to the other characters only has room for one, so it can create tension. Otherwise, they still pretty much mirror each other. Both are finally getting to grow up and not experience trauma (in the first few episodes). They are both recovering from their childhood being ripped apart by two heads of the same beast. El has girls night with Max before+after breaking up with Mike, Will has boys night before fighting with Mike. They're two peas in one pod that are constantly revolving around each other. The yin and yang. So similar but constantly moving in opposite directions. When one does this, the other does that. Mileven's breakup scene is funny, lighthearted, fun colored and sunny. Bylers fight is dreary, dark, mono toned color scheme, emotional acting and serious implications. El is seen having fun thinking of other things after the breakup. Will destroys Castle Byers, the place he felt was safe for him, which could even parallel when El destroys the cabin because Hopper won't let her leave/see Mike. They're in almost identical situations (lover/crush isn't reciprocating the feelings I have for them, or at least isn't showing it properly) yet their situations end up completely different. This mirrors their characters but also foils them. Regardless it creates a link between the two indicating they hold similar roles within the show. Other than Mike relations, while El is figuring out something is up with Billy/the Upside Down, Will knows the Mind Flayer is back. They both consistently represent the fantasy aspect and always facilitate that storyline. Now that they've finally been present together in a season, it becomes A LOT more obvious how their characters are so similar it causes clashes, which only further emphasizes how alike they are.

Let's just get into S4 because this is so long lol.

Season Four

El and Will becoming siblings heavily emphasizes them being each others alter-egos and the fact that El has no powers only maximizes this to the fullest. Essentially they're now the exact same character trope/profile whatever you want to call it. El is now being bullied for being "different" and because she no longer has powers. We all know Will has been bullied since the womb 💀 Without her powers, El has a very difficult time defending herself, and so does Will in general. She can't vocally speak up for herself, the only time Will does is when Mike has ticked him off so bad, similar to El without her powers. They both just don't fit in. So why don't they also show Will being bullied? It goes back to how they clash, reiterating how they're the yin and yang, switching situations constantly. When Mike first gets to Cali, Mileven are all over each other leaving Will dilly dallying somewhere in the background and Byler eventually fighting. Then Mileven fight and Byler make up. Both Will and El want to hear something from Mike that he's isn't ready to say. He dances around the issue with the both of them - telling El she's incredible and he cares for her, telling Will they're just friends, and indicating their relationship didn't warrant regular contact. Same situation (I want Mike to reciprocate my feelings) different outcome (Mike doesn't love me, Mike can't admit we were best friends ((or more than that)) and his behavior is weird). This is not for no reason. Writers (and no it's not just the Duffers, so please stop shitting on the writing when if you look into it there's some good subtext) don't parallel characters for no reason. They are trying to indicate something. That Will and El are so alike but constantly stuck in opposing situations.

Okay so that's my in depth analysis of why Will and El are essentially the same character while simultaneously contrasting each other. Alter ego foils. Let's get to the ACTUAL point 😭

Superman

So, in the van scene, before Will gives his speech, Mike has his own little semi-speech and towards the end he says "...that I'm just some random nerd who got lucky Superman landed on his doortstep. I mean at least Lois Lane is a reporter for the daily planet, right?"

Now this may seem like a simple analogy, not knowing much about Superman. However, even when I only knew the basics and tropes, it still stood out to me that he referred to el as Superman, not Superwoman, wonder woman or Supergirl. I've seen a few people for and against this theory and it always revolves around the idea that El is a girl not a boy so it should be Supergirl. And yes, I think that partially helps this analogy, it gives it more attention to an average viewer; but that's not the only reason it works. In fact, I don't think that's the main point at all. It's also important that Mike refers to himself as Lois Lane. Now hear me out...

In the original Superman comics, and some iterations of it, Lois Lane falls for Superman because of his super powers and subsequent charisma/attractiveness, while befriending Clark Kent and not realizing they are the same person. Are we seeing this comparison? Please tell me I'm not crazy.

If it wasn't obvious, Mike = Lois Lane, Will = Clark Kent and El = Superman.

Here's a description of the "love triangle" between Lois, Clark and Superman. Yellow is Will, blue is Mike and green is El.

Now obviously, Superman and Kent really are the same person. However, I think there's plenty of support for the idea that Will and El are nearly interchangeable characters without the powers. So the Writers used a clever reference to indicate this love triangle (or at least I think they intentionally did lol).

What supports this theory more is Mike's descriptions throughout the seasons of El. He's references her super powers more than twice, referred to her as a "machine" a "weapon in s1". In S3 and S4 he has trouble saying ILY which on its own could be plenty of things but coupled with all of the other subtext... let's just say maybe I choose to be delusional. In the monologue, he refers multiple times to her super powers instead of like "i love your caring soul, your warming smile, how you are literally always there for us". No its "you can move mountains, fly, do anything" etc. Clear romanticization of her powers which she probably doesn't like and isn't a healthy thing in a relationship anyway.

Lois Lane has a close personal relationship with both Superman and Clark Kent, yet she's unable to tell that they're the same person. Even though the only thing being different is a pair of glasses and obviously super powers. This parallels how Mike is unable to differentiate between his feelings for Will and his feelings for El. They're confusing because he thinks he's supposed to like El because of society (Lois is primarily attracted to Superman first over Kent because of the allure he brings with his fame and powers, which relates to social standing) and that he can't like Will because of the obvious implications - being gay would give him hardship. For Lois Lane, it means she has a lower social status than if she were to be with Superman. The way El and Will have so many parallels I feel like this analogy is too blatant to not mean something. Especially considering this is a sci-fi action show and Superman would attract similar fanbases, so some of them would be able to make the connection.

+++It's also NOT a coincidence that he says this RIGHT before Will confesses his feeling VICARIOUSLY THROUGH El. It just can't be sorry.

Now obviously this is all speculation, but this next part is really speculation.

So how is Mike's behavior explained in the context of this Superman analogy?

Now that El lost her powers, Will and El are essentially two peas in a pod. If you analyze closely throughout the seasons you would catch on to it, but now more than ever. Mike has too. They call and write all the time so presumably they talk A LOT about A LOT of things. This gave him the time to understand El apart from her powers. Not only that but they were physically separated so even if she did have her powers, he still wouldn't be as affected by them. He finally gets to know her. And that's not to say he doesn't like her. Or even love her. He just doesn't romantically love her. And he realizes that once he's confronted her true self, and once he gets to Cali it's thrown right into his face (as he may or may not have been expecting) causing him to ignore Will. Even though he's never, even in s3, acted this nonchalant and apathetic towards Will. It's noticeable, probably noticeable enough for the general audience. A stark contrast even. Yes it could be the distance so they grew apart but we know from their talks in Vol 1 that it wasn't intentional. Mike says he lost Will. When's the last time he lost Will? In s2 with the Mind Flayer and in s1 with the abduction. How did he react? Negatively, but urgently tried to find Will. This time he reacts negatively but avoids fixing it. Why? Because he, at least on some level, has recognized his feelings for Will. Perhaps the similarities are so glaringly obvious that he feels stupid and naïve.

And one last thing to drive the point home.

Mike, in episode 8, refers to El as "superman". You can brush it all off as oh that's just the most popular superhero, etc. But in the VERY next episode, Argyle refers to her as "supergirl". It shows that Argyle sees her as a girl, not a boy. Not that Mike doesn't know she's a girl but that he chose not to refer to her as such. Someone else pointed out that he has referred to her as "person" multiple times throughout the series. I don't have the proof in that but if it's true it supports this. It also shows that the writers (may) have used the word Superman intentionally.

Well that was super fucking long but I would love to hear opinions if you've gotten this far!!! I don't think it's that far fetched but I am deluded so I truly can't tell lol.

#Byler #Byler is real #Mike Wheeler is gay #Mike Wheeler queer #Mike Wheeler queercoded #Stranger things #Will Byers #Will Byers is gay #Byler is endgame #stranger things 4 #stranger things gay #byler theory #byler theories #mike and will #THIS IS TRUE IDC!!!!!!! #mike wheeler and will byers #byler endgame #Eleven

[slayerkitty]

(Stages of) Grief and Loss in Last Twilight

So apparently I'm ready to meta this show right out of the gate! That's never happened before, lol. The last P'Aof show that aired was Moonlight Chicken and I was still learning about BL as a genre as well getting caught up on various BLs (I mean, I'm still getting caught up, but I'm way more well versed now, lol). It's exciting, actually getting to meta a P'Aof show.

@twig-tea was the first of the former Only Friends Ephemerality Squad to discuss Last Twilight with a focus on liminality. During our discussion on the characters and how liminality was affecting them, I mentioned that grief is liminal; @twig-tea replied with "When you’re in grief you’re not in the same space you were, and coming out the other side you’re different and the world feels different, and grief feels interminable, and you can’t feel the passing of time the same way."

That sentence, of course, got me thinking about the grieving process (because P'Aof seems to be once again using his art to work through his emotions surrounding loss; I remember that it was said he used Moonlight Chicken for this as well). I was further prompted by @waitmyturtles and their commentary on Mhok (Mork? I know Jimmy sanctioned Mork; have we settled on a spelling?) and how he is angry about and distanced from his sister's death.

Depending on where you look, there are 5-7 "stages" of grief. Per Medical News Today, they're listed as: Shock: This stage may involve numbed disbelief in response to news of a loss. It may serve as an emotional buffer to prevent someone from feeling overwhelmed. Denial: Denial may entail refuting the reality of the loss or any associated feelings. Once an individual accepts reality, they can move forward through the healing process. Anger: During this stage, an individual may direct their anger toward the person who died, doctors, family members, or even religious entities. It is important to address the anger. Bargaining: Bargaining involves thoughts such as “I will do anything if you take away the pain.” This stage may come at any point within the grieving process. It is frequently accompanied by guilt. Depression: At this stage, a person may experience feelings of emptiness and intense sadness. They may also withdraw from daily activities and things they once enjoyed. Testing: Testing is the process of trying to find solutions that offer a means of dealing with loss. Someone may drift in and out of other grieving stages during this time. Acceptance: This is the final stage of the grieving process. Acceptance does not mean people feel OK about a loss. Rather, it means they realize the loss is their new reality. They understand that while life will not continue as it did before, it will go on. This stage may involve reorganizing roles and forming new relationships.

I wanted to give a closer examination of specifically Mhok and Day and where they're at in the grieving process at the start of the show, as they've both suffered tragic, massive (albeit entirely different) losses.

Mhok:

Mohk's losses are huge but mostly affect only him. Prior to the start of the show, he had lost his parents (how they died and how long they've been gone isn't really mentioned but he and Rung don't seem too grief-stricken in the flashback to visiting them). He made a mistake, a fight went too far and he lost his freedom (so I'm a little unclear exactly how much time he spent in jail - was it the full year? or six months?), as well as presumably his home and his job.

Somewhere in the ensuing jail time, he lost his friends (assuming he was telling the truth to the guy who took his ankle monitor off) and it's implied he lost his girlfriend (I am fascinated by Mhok's relationship with his ex; with everything else he lost, he has managed to maintain a friendship with her - so much so that she has a boyfriend and it doesn't even phase him). The night Mhok is arrested, he loses his last remaining family member, his sister. Rung's death is clearly the thing he's struggling with the most - as @waitmyturtles said "There’s a lot of anger, a lot of regret, a lot of avoidance, a lot of dancing around the honest truth."

Mhok seems to have reached acceptance with most of the things he's lost - his parents, his job, his friends, his girlfriend - but he is struggling with his anger over his current situation (needing a job so he can, you know, have money to live - and also pay for his sister's car storage) as well as the anger he clearly feels toward his sister. Given how she died, Mhok says she's to blame.

Day:

Day's losses are completely different and affect everyone in his life, most notably his mother and his brother. While Mhok was just muddling through life before he lost everything, Day is at the top of the world. He's a champion badminton player, headed into an important match when the unthinkable happens - his vision goes blurry and he can't see clearly. Now, we don't get a lot of info up front about exactly what's wrong with Day's vision - one of the nurses at the hospital says he had some sort of car accident (where I'm assuming he would have hit his head?). As a result of his injury, Day has lost his career, but more importantly, he's lost control over his life.

His injury is in control now - every moment of every day is now centered around the fact that he can't see. Every interaction he has with his family has to do with his vision loss. What's interesting is that he seems to be fairly accepting of his injury, of the fact that he can't see. It's the way he's being treated as a result that is making him angry - his family is definitely made it so he has little to no agency and no self-sufficiency in his life. He's in a wheelchair so he can be pushed around the house (instead of just being able to learn where the furniture is and walk himself - though he is still getting over an ankle injury). His brother is giving up his entire life it seems to be Day's carer - something clearly neither of them want.

So we have two angry men with dealing with massive loss - and knowing P'Aof, we will go along on their journey acceptance and healing.

Tagging @waitmyturtles, @twig-tea, @ranchthoughts

If you'd like to be tagged in future metas, let me know and I'll add you!

#last twilight the series #bl meta #thai bl #have we got a new name yet?

[good-beanswrites]

🎬: About Es being a past prisoner and the secret 11th prisoner in your AU. But advance apologies if I'm overstepping into your AU!

I had this idea from a story that pretty much did the same thing. Going off there are novels/manga on Milgram and there being another Es and their own prisoners running another Milgram (but differently) I imagine this Milgram projects has been going on for a while, and our Es was from a previous project who might have gotten the worst verdict (or the most spared out of everyone), and was given this final task as a warden for the next group of prisoners. This is why they so readily agreed and had their memories wiped for this Milgram project instead of being weary on a shady project on judging an almost crime, they've already been through this.

(BTW is it bad and worrying for one of our ten fav prisoners to be the next Es if this is legit...)

Anyway, that's why Es is in Milgram in your AU, I guess? And the lore drop that Kotoko picks up on them being the 11th prisoner, I can imagine her also talking to Kazui since he's a policeman to see if she could cross out any theories on who Es is (Did they look familiar. Possible missing child. Any cases to do with an almost crime by a child other than the 10 of them here). Kazui knows Kotoko wants to investigate, but reminds her that, like in their prison while the trial is on, the facilities they're in have high security too. They do have the freedom to move about, but still limited.

If they're trying to investigate Es, maybe Fuuta, Kotoko and Mikoto can try to do the hacking on the comp Mikoto's allowed to use to Photoshop some shots for the MVs and photos (Fuuta and Kotoko seem to be able to search up info they need I think...). Yuno, Mahiru and Muu can work on charming the staff to see if they can spill more deets on Milgram. Not sure how much the group can gather, but oh boy fun times in Milgram can turn into another sort of stress in this AU...

No worries!! Like I said before, this whole au has been a fun collaborative project, so there's no overstepping :) I am sorry I won't be writing a lot on the ending until we get more info, but that's just the perfectionist in me who doesn't want to be proven wrong 😅 Still, I love tossing around and digging into ending scenarios, I really love this!

Because that would make a lot of sense why they're so willing to subject themself to the whole experiment! They remember how tough their experience was, and are confident they can care for the new set of prisoners while doing their job. I'm imagining they get the opportunity to return as guard, and get to have a nice talk with their own guard first. Once they fully understand what it's like, they're know they can handle it and sign up. It adds a bit of drama, too, since they must have been really young committing their crime in order to complete a years-long experiment prior to this one. They would have been like 10? Oof. (Now I wanna see their three trial songs 👀)

And like you said, that also brings up the question of the new warden. Though I think it's based on verdict results, I can just picture Jackalope keeping an eye on everyone during filming. He studyies their interactions and personalities, keeping his own set of notes on who would make a good successor. (I'm not going to go through every character but there are pros to any choice, it's very fun picturing them all taking the job.) Haha, on the other hand, maybe the reason Kotoko keeps bringing up her role as Es' partner/bringer of justice is because she did discover the truth. She drops as many hints as possible so she can be chosen next 😅

Ooh, I love her working with Kazui on an investigation! The fact that eh may know details on recent crimes (and almost-crimes) is super fun to work with. He's the last person who's going to spill a secret, so the group could go several trials without realizing Kazui had actually heard all about their situation this whole time.

(Getting sidetrack for a sec, I'm suddenly realizing that he and Kotoko may have heard things about the crimes in canon, too. They're a bit unclear about how much time passed between the murders and arriving to Milgram, so maybe he heard some things. I don't know how well-connected Tokyo police departments are, but Yuno, Fuuta, Muu, and Shidou are all nearby. There's definitely a chance he caught word of the vigilante nearby, and she heard about the odd policeman's suicide. Both of them could have heard about the tragic housefire, the disgraced doctor, or horrible schoolgirl murder nearby.)

Anyway, I like that idea of Kazui wracking his brain for any similar cases. Though, if he had, Milgram may have had the foresight to wipe parts of his memory, too. Maybe he does end up using his call to reach out to Hinako and have her look into it from the outside. Sadly, Kotoko seems the type to sacrifice her personal call to reach out to a connection who can help as well. I'll have to think about how closely Jackalope monitors those calls, hm.

I'm going crazy over prisoner investigation team !! Kotoko and Fuuta had the online knowledge to find some good info, and Mikoto and Kazui seem like they'd have a huge network of people they can ask for info and favors from. Haha, I'm torn whether Mahiru would have flirting down to a science or if she'd refuse to do it since it wasn't real love 😂 Still, she's very good at reading people and could definitely help the others charm and bribe their way into some restricted areas. Amane and Haruka can also charm with their innocence/cuteness (though I'm not sure Amane would). Shidou seems very organized, he'd have a plan and backup plan and backup-backup plan ready, no matter what happens. I think it's even funnier, then if Milgram had run several experiments prior. Jackalope would think this was just another runthrough, and for the first time the ten subjects decided to organize together and Cause Problems.

I think there's a beautiful irony in a story featuring ten prisoners planning a jailbreak to save the prison guard...

#milgram #as always thank you for sending 🎬!! these are so fun and big brained ough #lol yeah a fun fact about me is im Such a stickler for canon even in aus like this #the pain of writing a mahiru x boyfriend fic and doing the whole thing without ever saying his name 💀 #so i wrote the last chapter of the au as vague as possible so that it had a nice ending but i may go back to make things more accurate when #t3 ends and we (hopefully) find out who es is #i love that this eases some of the pain knowing that es knew exactly what they were getting into :') #and wont be too fucked up upon getting their memories back since they knew it was faked #while also adding extra angst that theyve been there for so long -- theyve spent so much of their childhood within milgram #i was just recently looking at that post about their character locations and had it all marked out on a map #i swear i dont just know that off the top of my head asdfsd #i never realized kazui and kotoko would have outside knowledge >:0 #i really love that concept #between the ten of them they hit so many skill sets -- theyve got the brain and the brawn and the people skills #theyve got intimidation and innocence #theyve got the experience of 40yos and up-to-date kids #theyd be unstoppable -- rip jackalope 😂😂😂 #lights camera sing your sins #ask

[eleni-cherie]

among thieves ✨ || bts • pjm

- chapter 1.0

"what even am I to you? your rival, your lover, an obstacle or am I supposed to be your coffin?"

about two thieves who can't live with nor without each other. and a joint past that comes back to threaten them.

© 2023 | eleni_cherie

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masterlist: here

— genre: thief au, gangster comedy, adventure, romcom, humour, angst, fluff, very flirty jimin, friends/rivals/exes to lovers (it's complicated, ok?!) f2l e2l ex2l all members play a role in this story!

ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE. CHARACTERS NOT NECESSARILY LIKE THE REAL PERSONS. ALSO VERY UNREALISTIC PLOT LOL - JUST PRETEND READING A MANGA/COMIC OR WATCHING A FILM, REALLY.

SUGGESTIVE THEMES. MENTIONS OF VIOLENCE & BLOOD (BUT NOTHING TOO GRAPHIC, IT'S STILL A COMEDY!)

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"Sir, are we sure this isn't a trap?"

"Skylar's right!" Jungkook chirped in, nodding. Both subordinates leaning forward in their seats. Seokjin sighed seeing their inquiring looks.

"Of course we can't be absolutely sure, but it's very unlikely. There isn't any beneficial reason for them to trap interpol agents. I think I know them well enough and for Kim Taehyung to call and ask me for help, it means they've got a real problem."

Skylar and Jungkook exchanged a look, facing Seokjin again. "And do you know what's exactly the deal? What happened that he revealed their location?"

"He said it's about Park Jimin."

"Wha.. what issue regarding him?"

He motioned to the case file in front of him. Opening it. "Of course take it with a grain of salt, but according to him Jimin is having a severe dissociation. He couldn't exactly tell me why, but apparently he attacked both his partners and attempted to kill Miss Valentine before fleeing."

Jungkook hummed, seemingly confused as his brows furrowed into a deep frown. "But isn't he totally infatuated with her? Why would he kill her?"

"That's exactly the point," Seokjin said, pointing his finger at him, "He wouldn't. In fact, he'd never kill anyone unless it was for self-defense." One of the very few reasons he secretly respected his opponent a lot. "So if Taehyung is saying the truth, there's indeed something very wrong with him."

"Making him quite dangerous," Skylar mumbled absentmindedly with a concerned expression. Glancing up at them. "I mean, if a thief with his abilities turns into an assassin.."

Jungkook's eyes widened, understanding what she was hinting to. A person like this being on the loose would be dangerous. Extremely dangerous.

Seokjin nodded. A deeply worried look spread on his usually soft features. "That'd make him one of the most dangerous men in the world. That's why we've got to catch him before that happens."

"We'll land at the international airport of Havana in approximiately fifteen minutes."

The voice of the captain was heard through the speaker then.Finally. After all, they hadn't had even time to sleep after arresting a wanted identity thief in Montreal before getting the call and instantly boarding the interpol private jet to fly over to the carribbean.

Seokjin directed his attention to his two assistants once more. Closing the files on the table.

"When we land, I want you two to meet with his partners and gather as much information on the situation as possible."

Skylar blinked puzzled. "Shouldn't we arrest them?"

"Not yet. Remember, they were the ones calling us. Our main priority is to find Jimin. After that, arrest them."

She nodded at her superior's orders. Him continuing then, facing Jungkook. "Make sure they won't hold back any details. Meanwhile I'll head to the headquaters and organise everything we know and see if I can find any more clues." He sighed then, looking out at the clouds. The sun would soon rise over the horizon. "I hope we can find him before any damage takes place."

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After meeting with the local police force and making sure he hadn't left the country yet, Seokjin coordinated an extensive search all around the city and the main island. Apparently Arabella had last seen him downtown a few hours ago, near the local hospital. So that was served as a starting point. He shouldn't have got too far away in these time period.

They expected the search to be easier than usual considering they, more-or-less, knew his location and it wasn't a metropole. However, they didn't expect it to be this easy. 

First Seokjin and his team didn't want to believe the claims of a bewildered police officer at a local police station in the outskirts. Until they shortly arrived there and saw no one but Jimin there. Totally drenched Jimin and not saying a word to anyone. The police officers had immediately reported his appearing to the headquaters, not knowing what else to do with him.

He was simply standing there with dull eyes. Letting Seokjin put the handcuffs around his wrists without any protest. No tricks, no clever line. Nothing. 

And Seokjin could instantly see what Taehyung had meant on the phone. This surely wasn't the Park Jimin he knew.

Puzzled and utterly stunned, they brought him to the private jet. The whole police squad escorting them there, just in case it was a bluff after all or he came back to his senses and tried pulling something on them. But he didn't do anything.

No, he was just silently sitting there. Staring down on his lap. Only occasionally grabbing his forehead or shoulder, knitting his brows together in agony as if he was in pain.

The plane fight back was equally as silent. Jungkook and Skylar having fallen asleep right after taking off, both being quite exhausted from the last twenty-four hours. Him snoring quietly while she was drooling on his shoulder.

Seokjin observed them, pitying and envying them at the same time. Both were still so young, maybe too young to have to deal with the often hard life of an interpol agent. However, they also reminded him a lot of himself, back then when he had come fresh out of the academy.

His gaze wandered to Jimin in the dim-lit plane, who just like him wasn't sleeping. Calmly staring outside into the by now dawning sky. His face still expressionless. However, there was also a hint of sadness in it.

This wasn't the first time Seokjin had managed to arrest Jimin. In fact, there had been planty of times over the years they had known each other. This, however, was by far the oddest one. Usually Jimin would've already got rid of the handcuffs and attempted to flee. Or would have said a smug remark at least. However, he hadn't done any of this by now. 

Something was very wrong and Seokjin was determined to find out what it was. And who the cause of this was.

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Seoul, South Korea

Back in the korean interpol branch Seokjin held open the gate to the cell in the custody block. "Get inside," he ordered, motioning inside with his chin. Jimin did as told, the gate bars closing behind him.

"You know, I should be glad," Seokjin exhaled then while locking it, "I should be glad I caught you without any incidents. But for some reason I can't." Glancing a last time on him, he gave him a sympathetic look. "I don't know what happened to you, but this isn't the master thief I know."

Jimin remained silent, watchim him walk to the guard and giving exact instructions before he left. Leaving him back alone.

He took a seat on the simple bed in the cold grey cell. The throbbing in his head returning, along with a stabbing pain in his side. He groaned quietly, not wanting to gain the guard's attention who had sat at the end of the corridor.

When would these headaches finally stop?

Almost a week passed by like this without him taking any notice.Day and night seeming the same. Time either not passing at all or passing too fast. 

Every day Seokjin tried to interrogate him, but Jimin would just sit there. Not saying a word. Not even flinching when hearing all the charges - theft and identity theft in multiple cases. And every day Seokjin would sigh at the failed attempts and bring him back to his cell. Shaking his head lightly.

Wondering if Jimin was also a master actor or if he indeed had become a complete stranger.

And every day Jimin would just lay there on the bed, with his hands folded underneath his head and stare at the white ceiling. Hours and days simply passing by like this.

Occasionally, he'd get one of those painful headaches. Feeling like his brain was melting at the attempt to gain some of his memory back. Single fragments randomly popping up with no context. Images flashing in front of his mind's eye. Accompanied by loud voices, talking across each other. Making him clench his jaw.

Day by day the headaches got worse and the memory fragments longer and clearer. It got especially bad on the sixth day when he saw a 14-year old Taehyung suddenly standing there. Grinning at him from a car's hood. Right after they stole liquor from an illegal transporter.

"The thrill! I love the thrill of it!" he said, holding up a bottle."The thrill huh?" Jimin remembered answering him. "That's the reason I do this, too. The reason I enjoy stealing. It's the thrill and the rush!" Both grinned at each other. "I wanna become a thief, but on my own terms. Not my grandfathers!" Jimin announced then holding his own liquor bottle up. "You wanna join me?" 

Taehyung thought for a moment, eventually shrugging. "Sure, why not."

He groaned again, his head was a mess.

"Oh, a samurai!"

"You're quite an idiot, aren't you?" Yoongi said with an unamused expression. The sword's blade lightly poking Jimin's neck. "Samurai were japanese and I'm korean."

"Whatever you are, you're pretty cool," Jimin countered with a wide grin. As if he was oblivious to the situation. Irritating Yoongi even more. "You tried stealing my family's formula for imperious sword blades. I'm afraid you've got to pay for that."

"Pay? You mean stabbing me with that dope sword of yours?" he asked surprised, tapping the blade with his index finger. "That's a pity. I could use someone like you in my team."

Yoongi scoffed. "I'd never want to help a thief anyway."

"Really? Not even if I could help you get the guys arrested who killed your uncle?"

Those memories. They were short glimpses of his past. But still, he began to remember more.

"Park Jimin!" Arabella yelled his name from the lower level of the mansion. Showing off proudly the necklace around her neck before winking at him, blowing him a kiss. "Better luck next time!" "How about I just come get it from you?"

She smirked. Loading her berretta with a makeshift projectile out of her red lipstick. Aiming at him. "Don't even think of it."

He was just standing there at the railing, propping his hands on the metallic bars. Watching her every move without flinching at the shot, the lipstick grazing his cheek. He observed her turn around then. Not even attempting preventing her from running out with the diamonds around her neck. Too mesmerised by her.

And he smiled to himself. "One day I'll steal your heart, Arabella Valentine."

-"You must kill Arabella Valentine."

"Certainly not."

Kir smirked evily. Holding up something between her fingers. "The injection was only a tranquilizer, you know. But this little pill here will either make you submissive to our orders.. or kill you. It's still in the experimental phase. It'll be fun to watch the outcome either way," the woman's voice rang. "So either die or finish the job from back then. Finish off the woman who betrayed you over and over again. Remember Cairo? How she got away with the ruby and let you face authorities? The Indian job? Where she convinced you to give her the golden statue only to rush away on her bike? And I got even more on my list here." Her finger tapping on a file with documents before closing it.

She stood up then, walking towards him. And as he felt his limbs growing weaker and the two buff men having to put more effort in keeping him up, she forced the little blue pill into his mouth. And he wasn't able to do anything against it.

"So how about you finally get your revenge at her for humiliating you? For all the times she betrayed and left you behind. Eliminate her."

"Jimin!" another female voice yelled then. He looked around. Seeing Arabella standing there. Her soft big eyes frowning at him."This isn't your real self." She took her gun out, pointing at him with a disappointed look. "You should know I'm the only person in the world who can claim you." And she shot.

His eyes abruptly opened wide. 

He instantly flinched by the dazzling neon light above him and he covered his face. Another groan escaping his lips. This time louder.

The guard, confused about the agonising noises that seemed to be worse and lasting longer than the previous days, quickly called the Seokjin. Asking for orders on how to proceed as the prisoner seemed to be in great pain. It was quite late by now after all.

Most colleagues had left, leaving mostly guards on the night shift there and a few agents who remained to finish off paperwork.

A few minutes later Seokjin appeared, asking the guard to get a doctor in case.

"What's the issue," he asked then, yawning into the palm of his hand. His coat almost slipping from his grip. He had been about to go home when the guard had called him. "You look quite miserable. Worse than any other day. Are you sick?"

"My head, it's my head," Jimin mumbled, burrying his face in his hands more, "They.. they did something."

Seokjin perked up at this. This is the most Jimin had talked ever since he saw him back in the police office in Havana. "Who's 'they'?"

"They.." His voice was weak. "They gave me a pill. It was a woman, Kir. She told me to eliminate Bella."

"A pill? You mean drugs?"

"I don't know."

"And why would they make you eliminate her?"

"She.. she was one of them."

"What?" Seokjin frowned confused. "Who was one of who?"

"Bel-la.. was one of them."

Seokjin hummed as his brows knitted together. That was a detail he hadn't known yet. He instantly called Jungkook who was also still somewhere in the building. "JK? Do a new background check on Arabella Valentine tomorrow. I want every little unimportant info you can find." He was too immersed in the phone call, not noticing Jimin slowly standing up and walking towards him.

Only when the older guy turned around, he saw him suddenly standing right in front of him behind the bars. A clicking noise following. "Sorry, pops," Jimin grinned.

Seokjin's eyes widened and he looked down, seeing his wrist being handcuffed to the bars. "What the-" Jimin had got rid of the handcuffs and instead locked him up as he hadn't been paying attention. Letting his guard down by thinking Jimin still had amnesia. He should've realised he was back to normal when saying 'Bella' instead of 'Arabella'.

Seokjin tried pulling at them in vain. "Park Jimin, you're arrested!"

"I know! You already arrested me after all!" he chuckled amused, grabbing Seokjin's gun out of his holster. "That's why I'm here." He aimed at the gate's lock, shooting a few times before it plopped open. Seokjin taking cover by sliding down to the ground. 

As he stepped out, Jimin bent down. Their faces being on the same level. "Fifteen minues. That's all I'm asking for before you call for back-up."

Seokjin laughed under his breath, about to protest when seeing the genuine distress and plead in Jimin's eyes. And considering the fact someone had apparently kidnapped and brainwashed him into killing the woman he loved, Seokjin couldn't help but pity him in a way.

His lips pressed together, eyeing his coat before facing Jimin again. Eventually sighing with a smile.

"Ten minues." His free hand slid inside the pocket. "Be quick and don't make me regret it."

Jimin's lips curled up into a joyful grin. Grabbing Seokjin's coat from the ground and putting it on to pass by any guards or agents unnoticed. "Thanks, pops! You're the best!"

"And stop calling me 'pops'!" Seokjin groaned as Jimin stormed out. "I'm only three years older than you!"

"I know, I know!"

»»»

next chapter: 1.1 here

#park jimin #bts jimin #jimin #jimin au #jimin fanfic #thief au #gangster au #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers #exes to lovers #ex2l #e2l #f2l #bts #bts au #bts fic #jimin angst #jimin fluff #bts fanfic #bts x oc #bts series #kat mcnamara #katherine mcnamara #taehyung #yoongi #seokjin #jungkook #namjoon #hoseok #jimin mafia

[dorokora]

Chapter 14 Episode 6 Part 1:

We start with Christine receiving a call from Oscar. She understands the situation. Since the script will be pushed forward a little, it will be necessary to make ad-lib adjustments. However, what she does remains the same. "Entertaining our customers" is their only job. Apparently that scene over there It looks like it's about time to reach the next stage. Let's leave this to Baron. He is the perfect fit for this scene. That is exactly what they, the Entertainers, are proud of, a professional among professionals. We switch over to narration about Barong’s backstory. It is believed that the round dance of light and darkness with his rival named Ogre Randa will last forever as long as this world exists. However, neither the body nor the mind of Baron, who is not a "god", is by any means eternal. Baron devotes his existence to his "role", dances as if squeezing everything out of it, and finally throws himself into the flames. And it was said that the name "Baron" would be handed down to a new dancer along with the mask. This Baron loved to dance. He loved to dance and see the happy faces of his guests. He wanted to be consumed by it. That was the root of Baron's identity as he proved himself as an entertainer. In other words, it is proof that you are yourself. In this world, What only you can do. If that will come true in the end, it doesn't matter if his body and mind disappear from this world.

We cut to Pazuzu and MC who are sharing information. The great guild alliance’s goal in a nutshell, is to "recapture the members who have disappeared from this world." The guild masters of the Gurus and Wanderers, as well as some members of the beast tamers, are nowhere to be found. They suspected the involvement of the Entertainers and from MC’s story, the possibility has increased. The privilege of the Entertainers on the management side is to freely add and remove "roles". MC had been "spirited away" somewhere else until recently. “Behind the scenes” of Yurakucho. That's what Oscar calls it. And behind the scenes, there are countless shadows that seem to be the missing people whose lives are unknown. That's why the alliance top priority right now is to secure Oscar. Find out the "base" where he is located, detain him, and find out the truth of the "spirited away" people. MC ask about the Beast Tamer Guildmaster, they haven’t met them yet but they do remember seeing them from the broadcast from the other side. MC’s vision is starting to blur and they almost fell to the ground but Pazuzu catches them. Pazuzu glance at MC’s missing arm and tells them it would be best if they step away from the battlefield for a bit since they can’t fight in the state their in now. Hastur shows to tell Pazuzu that Yuma went off by himself again. Hastur ask why does that human always disobey our advice and run off alone. Pazuzu said their guild master just wants to be useful to them but even Yuma doesn't know what to do. The rest of the Beast Tamers have a Tamer and Beast role. They can analyze "roles" and "rules" and derive countermeasures against them. Knowing each other, helping each other, taking the reins and stabilizing them, that's what they do. However, even with their research, they still can't come to a clear conclusion about Yuma's true identity. Is Yuma's ability to transform into a beast an 'rule', or is he really such a creature? No matter how many scientific tests prove that he is human, his assertion of "I am a beast" does not waver. And the two could never be distinguished systematically and logically in Tokyo. No one can see what Yuma is not even Yuma himself. If no one is watching their back, it is the same as "nothing". And what is "nothing" cannot be controlled. That's why, like a stray dog ​​out of control, Yuma always run out on his own. If it's not someone who knows the same position and the same pain as him, it won't resonate with Yuma, and he can't stop it. Pazuzu, Hastur, and MC hears Yuma howling in the distance. Pazuzu runs off to where the noise came from and MC follows him. Hastur tries to go with them but Beowulf keeps interfering.

We cut to Amduscias inner thoughts. He think it would be embarrassing if people thought that someone like him was being cheered for. Why are you here? Why are you standing in front of me? He don't know anything. However, what is certain is the guild of the opponent displayed by the "app" at hand. He had always thought that he was on the same side as himself. He hoped arbitrarily and was betrayed arbitrarily. Amduscias ask himself why is he here and why is he fighting Yuma. There's no way Yuma would believe him by explaining that it just happened. He don't know how to explain. He don't know what to do. He can't see the future as an idol, and He can't even do a stage that can fill the venue's capacity. He don't think he can stand on my own from now on, and he don't even know where he should stand. Even after joining the Entertainers, he still don't know anything. What should I do? I don't even know what is right. As expected, I already knew. I don't think I'm the "main character of the story". If I were to play the role of the main character in the story, I'd probably put out a tremendous amount of power and stop this fight. But I can't do that. I'm not the main character or anything. Ambuschias recalls seeing Solomon. That overwhelming power that can sink a battle in an instant, and presence, he can't be like that. No one in this world, even myself, can confidently say that I am not at fault.

MC and Pazuzu reached Amduscias and Yuma. MC recognized them from the broadcast. We cut Ahura who said it’s time to move to the stage. Nobumichi ask where are they going. Ahura said since long ago, it has been decided that there is only one stage on which he, the ally of justice, should stand. The small and powerless, a place where those born destined to always lose in the end. To the place where there is an ally of evil, recognized by this 'ally of justice' Ahura Mazda. Ahura’s eyes darkened.

We cut to Amduscias and Yuma who are still fighting but are both sad and confused about why they’re fighting in the first place. Pazuzu tries to reach out to Yuma but Barong stands in his way. He brings Nyral and Boogeyman with him and that brainwashing music starts playing. Barong said as long as he know who his audience is, he don't care if this world becomes his enemy. It doesn't matter if it ends here. It doesn't matter even if he’s gone.

#Chapter 14 #Housamo spoilers

[peninkwrites]

The Green Room - Ch 2 of 4

Showfall Media’s recasting process starts with a trip to the green room. There, cast members are offered the truth before the slate is wiped clean…

crossposted to ao3

Ch 1

Ch 3

NIKI NIHACHU - RECASTING 29

“Hello there, Niki!  Can you hear me?  Hm?  Hello, hun, come on, look at me.”

Niki hears someone snapping their fingers.  Her eyes focus on a hand in front of her face, slowly, the room swimming into view and with it, fear.

“H-Hello…?”

“Hi, Niki!  My name is Dr. Smith,” a woman in a lab coat with a clipboard smiles at her.

“Where… I don’t understand.  What’s… what’s going on?” Niki asks, and as she does, she remembers.  She remembers that she remembers almost nothing.  Niki sits up sharply, but finds that she cannot move very far.  Her wrists are strapped down to a chair.  She scans the room, panic hot in her chest.  It’s plain, furnished with plush couches and the two padded chairs across from each other, one of which she is tied down to.  She turns back to the woman across from her, accusing and sharp.  “I… I was shot.  How am I here if I was shot?”

The woman laughs.  “Wow, you are quick, huh?  I always forget just how quick you are!  Yes, you were shot, but hair and makeup fixed you up!”

Niki struggles to process.  “That doesn’t… that doesn’t make sense.  I was… he shot me.  He shot me twice,” there’s a tremor in her voice, as this she does remember, of course, the pain of it.  She remembers screaming for help, begging because she was still alive.  She remembers the second shot.

“Our hair and makeup team is very impressive, Niki,” the woman says condescendingly.  “Welcome to the green room!  Here, I will answer any and all questions you have before your recasting.”

“My… recasting.  Because it was a role.  You… you forced us all to play roles,” Niki resists a shudder.  “That’s what this is, right?  That’s why… on the carousel, I… I acted different.”

“Right again, Niki!  Don’t miss a trick, do you?”

“And I… I want to leave,” Niki’s voice continues to shake, but she keeps trying.  “I want to leave here, and… and you won’t let me, will you?”

“No, Niki.  I’m afraid not,” she says with false pity.  “You’re a Showfall castmember, which means you belong here.”

“No.  No, I don’t belong here.  You people are crazy.  You killed me!  A-And somehow you brought me back, but you still killed me!  You’re sick!” Niki shouts at her, struggling against the bonds to no avail.

“Maybe,” Dr. Smith shrugs.  “Call us crazy, sick, whatever you like, but you can’t say we’re not effective, hm?” She says like she’s made some grand point.  “We entertain.”

Niki’s vision blurs, tears welling up, but she can see well enough to spit at the woman’s face.

Dr. Smith stands up sharply, wiping spit from her face with clear disgust, but her voice remains calm.  “I forgot you did that,” she grimaces.  “That’s my bad.  I should’ve sat further away.”  She proceeds to do so, dragging her chair further back.  She takes a deep breath, as if to force herself to calm, Niki watching her carefully, and sits back down.  “You know, Niki, you’re always one of our trickiest cast members.”

“What’s… What does that mean?”

“Well, you’re our… second newest member, but you’ve had far more recastings for your time here.  There’s always something, isn’t there, Niki?  Something always bleeds through,” she says it almost scoldingly.

Niki feels a shred of pride through the pain and the rage.  “Does that not make sense, considering you people love to make us bleed?” She snaps icily.

The woman smiles, amused.  “Sure, if you like.  Although, compared to some of your other… mistakes during the shows, this last one wasn’t too bad, I suppose, just the tears, and then you finding the Puzzler too early, quick thinking on his part, you could’ve ruined the game if you figured things out any further.  Although, I will say, your propensity for memory does make recasting easier!” She adds this bit of praise brightly, to Niki’s chagrin.  “You piece things together much faster than the others.  Hm,” the woman scribbles something down on her clipboard.  “We might have to start delegating you to smaller roles, making sure you get picked off sooner.  The audience voting for you did throw a wrench in things.  Normally the girls aren’t the fan-favorites.”

“Fine, then stop this.  If I… if I ruin things, then just stop using me,” Niki is torn between anger and pleading.  Her own words are what break her.  Just stop using me.  A sob rises in her throat.  She doesn’t remember, but she knows enough.  She knows she’s been trapped here for a long time, she knows they have hurt her, that they will hurt her, and she knows she is helpless to stop them.  Tears pour free, she curls in on herself as much as she can with her wrists bound, chest shuddering with aching, heavy sobs.  She pleads uselessly, meaninglessly, because she doesn’t know what else to do.  “I want to go home… please, please just let me go.  I won’t… I won’t say anything, tell anyone what you did, I just want to go home…”

“Niki,” the woman sounds so kind, so pitying.  “You are home.  As home as you can be.  And I know you’ll never make your peace with that, trust me, we’ve been down this road before.”

Niki swallows back her sobs, nails scratching at the armrests, digging in, as rage, grief, and terror all swirl inside of her.  “I know,” she says dully.

“Do you?  Are we already there?”

“Already where?” She mutters bitterly, staring at the carpet, scuffed and faded beneath her bare feet.  She’s in white linen, almost like pajamas.  It feels sterile.

“You remember our past meetings?”

“No, but I know they’ve happened.  I can guess that much.”

“I always forget how clever you are,” she laughs, almost impressed.  “Do you have any questions for me, Niki?  About your past, maybe?”

Niki thinks carefully, wearily.  “On the carousel, I… I wanted to live.  I thought if I won, if I got chosen, I’d get to live, right?”

“Well, yes, that was the premise of that round of the game, sure.”

“But… but that was a lie,” she does not bury the tremor in her voice, eyes shut tightly, a shaky breath.  “There’s no way out, is there?  There’s… there’s nothing to win.  We’re just… we’re just made to go on,  aren’t we?  Just over and over again, whatever you want?”

“It’s not just what we want, Niki.  It’s for the audience,” Dr. Smith says with reverence.  “We’re here to please them.”

“Well, they’re the ones that voted for me to go on, so.  Maybe they should vote on letting me go,” Niki tries feebly.  She knows it won’t save her.  She doesn’t want to talk about anything else.

“That’s an interesting thought, Niki,” Dr. Smith says dryly, unamused.  “So, any questions about your past?”

“Why would you give me answers if not to hurt me?” She says, soft and accusing, finally looking up at that woman, hatred and pain radiating from her puffy eyes.

“Actually, it’s to make all this hurt less.  The more you know, the less jumbled it is in your head, the easier it is for us to recast you.”

“You mean… you mean reprogram.”

“Sure.  They mean the same thing.”

Niki closes her eyes, taking a few more deep breaths, allowing her tears to go free.

“Niki?”

“I don’t… I don’t want to ask you anything.  I just want this to be done.  I don’t want you to hurt me, but I know I don’t have a choice, so I’d rather not wait, please,” Niki’s voice breaks.  She’s so scared.  She doesn’t want to be scared.  She doesn’t have a choice in that either.  She chokes on a sob.  "I j-just want this to be done..."

There’s a pause, Dr. Smith considering this.  “Alright, Niki.  I… I suppose you’re ready for recasting.”

When they come to take her away, she doesn’t struggle.  She's still crying.

#wahoo I wanted to continue this idea and I finally did it #my writing #generation loss #genloss #ask to tag #Niki Nihachu

[estinininininen]

FFIV, The Native Hue of Resolution, parts 1 and 2 of ?, ao3 link

I accidentally deleted the first part I had posted on tumblr because I confused it with the draft of part 2. Oops. Anyway, that's fine, because part 1 is required to understand part 2. ~2k words, Role reversal, corruption, reincarnation, mind control, loosely inspired by Again by joshuaorrizonte on ao3

Cecil Harvey stood before his closest remaining friends in this second, diminished life.

"All that I have meant to do is protect the crystals. Our legacy," he said, looking them down from his full height. Only Kain Highwind was taller, and as ever lately, Kain stood behind Cecil and did nothing.

"Our legacy," Cecil continued, "and all that remains of what we fought for, and won, and deserved! We-"

Edge's voice cracked like a whip. "Yeah, I know what you meant to do," he said. "What I'm worried about is what you're actually doing."

"That's immaterial," Cecil said, and this was familiar to them all. This was Paladin-king Cecil cooling the temper of Edward the Masked, as he had in meetings and debates at the kings' tables in times of yore.

But something this time was different.

Edge let Cecil know it. "It's very material," he said. "Germane, even, Your Paladin-ness. Refounding Baron and Eblan? Taking land from people who don't even know those names?"

Rydia placed a hand on Edge's arm and looked at Cecil. She had no lack of practice looking up at Cecil with fear and suspicion. She just had never wanted to use it in this life, and so had given him chance after chance after chance.

"Just one thing," she said.

"Anything," Cecil said, smiling and, as always, looking like he meant it. "I have always said I will give you anything in my power I can give."

"I want Kain to say he is under his own thoughts-" Rydia said.

Cecil's brow furrowed, and the dignified little smile intended to soothe turned in on itself in a grimacing flash. "As he has already, many times-"

"Don't interrupt me, Harvey," Rydia said.

Cecil stopped. Emotions warred on his face, carried up by shock.

"I want Kain to say it, to Rosa's face, when you are out of the room," Rydia said.

Rosa nodded. Pale and grim, she had said nothing once they had passed the point of no return with Cecil.

"I can't allow that," Cecil said, mouth closing shut with a click of teeth.

It took a moment for the exchange to ripple through everyone's awareness. They had expected more politicking, more wheedling, more perseverating. Even Cecil himself is a little surprised at how fast he was able to say it.

"What? Why?" Edge said, and then shoved himself in front of Rydia.

Cecil was already casting.

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

Kain only vaguely remembered the first time he suspected Cecil wasn't the same man as that last, glorious lifetime. (Well. It had been more glorious for some than others.) They were arguing over something, and in the middle of it Cecil tutted and shook his head.

"Oh, but Kain," Cecil said, "Kain, Kain, Kain. You've always been jealous. You would have ruined it for everyone again this time, and for what? Just to spite me?"

The only emotion Kain could show was the furious clenching of his jaw. He had to hold it together. He wasn't sure why. His tongue worked at his teeth, pushing at squeezing out some truth from his desperate lungs, but he couldn't find the lie in Cecil's words. He was always jealous of him, always had been. Cecil was right. Kain needed to work harder to be a good friend.

For one terrifying second Kain's chin wrinkled like it might before crying tears. He had not felt that way in a long time. His thoughts caught around it, what could be making him upset, and couldn't answer it. Couldn't settle. Would Cecil see the weakness in him, as he might have in their long-ago friendship? Would Cecil reassure him or use it against him?

Would this new Cecil somehow do both? Kain had the dawning realization it had already happened, and often.

Cecil smiled. "Don't forget," he said. "We are our best when we work together."

And once again, Kain's thoughts dipped down beneath the cover of Cecil's comforting, poisoned reminder, that had stung like a bite at the end of a kiss.

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

And now he stands behind Cecil like a statue, a golem, a wind-up toy. Like a . . a . . . a pupp-

When did this go so wrong? he thinks.

Rydia's voice drags him out of his stupor. Her voice becomes words in time to realize she's arguing with Cecil. And Cecil -

Denies Rydia?

No, that can't be right. Cecil would never. Even unto a future, reincarnated life, Cecil would have felt like he still owed Rydia. As, deep within, Kain still does.

Something falls out of Kain's heart. It's shaped like the horrified glance of a boy a year younger than him. When they were both still boys pretending to be men, Cecil a dark knight, the kindest soldier in all of Baron, whipping round to shove Kain back from a cringing green foundling.

When did it all go wrong? Kain thinks. He cannot remember if he has thought it before.

They are all moving so fast when he pays attention again. Cecil is saying something to him. Kain cannot answer. His mind is vibrating like a plucked string. It reminds him of something. He remembers the . . . bard? The monk? No, that was in Fabul, when he looked at Rosa and he almost . . . When he first almost . . .

Edge cannot make it past Cecil's protection spell, and Cecil has also slowed them all. Fine spider-silk threads of white magic pull them down just enough to impede. Rosa does not have her bow and Cecil has armor that resists white magic. Kain shudders, and hears his armor rattle like a pail, and is too busy being useless.

Then Rydia finishes casting, steps out from behind Edge, and a light as bright as the sun pours forth from her hands. Kain remembers this magic, first from the Tower of Zot, and then the continuous fighting after that. It is unlike any normal magecraft. He cannot sense magic but his teeth hurt and his mind is about to crack like a overbent bow. He can sense this. It is from where destructive black magic and constructive white magic come close to meeting, as a circle, as the two halves of the whole they are in truth. It mirrors another, white magic spell, its only rival, that nameless deliverance known only by its adjective, Holy.

Rydia whispers, "Meteor," and Cecil screams.

Kain remembers what this did to him last time, and yet he cannot brace for it -

He passes out.

PART 2:

Kain woke up in pain, in body and mind, and even his soul. He didn't have full consciousness yet, more drowsing than awake.

Someone was in his thoughts. Again. Again and again. Beyond the anger he might have had, or the sorrow, he just felt tired. Like throwing up his hands to shrug and say, "Ah, not again."

It was that realization that sparked a bit of hope under his heart. He had never held so much self-awareness before, in Zemus's thrall, either under Golbez or Cecil -

Cecil.

Kain remembered Edge in a private nook of the Lunar Whale, relating to him the story of Theodor Harvey, Golbez, Kluya's elder son and Cecil's brother. Kain's own confusion and regret had fogged up what would have otherwise been an impressive shock. However, only the matters of immediate survival and attack were important to any of them. Still, Cecil could not hide the deep wound it left. In the constant half-dawn of flying through space, as Rydia and Rosa hid in the stairwell, Edge forgave Kain faster than he would have. He needed Kain's help to circle around Cecil's fraying thoughts.

Edge had said to Kain, "It scared him real bad. For a minute all he could say was it could have just as easily been him."

Did that possibility still exist, untold millenia later? When Cecil was not even half-Lunarian in body, but only possibly in spirit? There were always more questions than answers. It seemed they had all moved forward without thinking again, falling right into the motions Zeromus expected of them. Again.

Kain scrunched his face in pain and confusion. "He's waking up," someone said.

He had a more difficult time sorting through if his head was addled when he was conscious, Kain realized with a spike of dread. He was here, self-aware. He had an important tool. He had moments before he woke up and he needed to use them, because he was here and so was someone else. Someone was here with him, in his head, and he could sense them like a neighbor that might be spying. Familiar, but not pressing down on him, like . . .

He started to wake up.

No, Kain thought. No. Tell me who you are.

In a twisting whirl like a shocked animal, the neighbor in his thoughts turned their attention towards Kain and answered him. What? What? Who's there? . . .

Kain was so surprised he almost opened his eyes. He tried to sink back into drowsing wakefulness, but as ever for disappointed dreamers, such thoughts were more defined by change, and not a single state of mind one could return to by command. It did not exist except as transition. Still Kain pulled himself back down, like the peak of a dragoon jump sending him back to earth.

The other someone said, Who I am? I should ask who you are instead. You reached out to me, and no one . . . Their thoughts stuttered to a halt. They looked at Kain again, and this time through his head like clear glass.

Help, Kain said. He struggled. Help. Cecil.

His unknown neighbor, that he knew but didn't recognize, had thoughts that now felt tentative and kind, but slow to react. Their mind crouched low, spooked, as though afraid of Kain as much as Kain was of . . . them, and himself, and Cecil and Zemus and everybody. He thought of Golbez, again, for no reason.

. . . Kain, the neighbor said. What's happening? What's wrong?

Help, Kain said. Rosa was cupping his face, and carding a hand through his hair. Do not wake up, he ordered himself, but he couldn't stop it. The way he was speaking, his thoughts pulling on top of each other with no point, he was about to lose it, lose the unconscious waking and the chance to talk, and he needed their help. He needed it. Help. Cecil. Help Cecil.

Cecil? they said back to him. They hesitated, then gave a sharp but gentle pull at Kain's own head. Kain recognized the insistence. It felt very familiar, but like a secret handshake or tug on his arm given by hands he didn't realize could also be gentle. Cecil's in trouble?

At the exact same moment Kain answered, Cecil. Cecil, trouble. Help Cecil, he recognized the voice.

Oh, shit, he thought.

Wait! Kain-

Kain woke up.

"Oh, shit," he said, and then frowned up at Rosa.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

Kain's thoughts stalled like an airship run aground into a swamp. "I don't know," he said. Had he been talking to someone?

Rosa met his frown with one of her own. "Can you follow my finger?" she said. And she followed white mage concussion protocol as dutifully as ever, which put Kain at a bit of ease, although he was still floundering, and wanted someone to pop open his skull and clean out the bilge of his thoughts. Wait, he never used to use so many damn ship metaphors . . .

Although once brothers, there were some major differences between being controlled by Cecil and Golbez.

He hoped having Cecil Goddamned Harvey, Lord Captain of the Red Fucking Wings in his thoughts all the time wouldn't leave too many after-effects, but it seemed that ship had already . . . Fuck.

#ffiv #ff4 #final fantasy iv #final fantasy 4 #cecil harvey #kain highwind #rydia #my ao3 crosspost #ffiv fanfic

[starry-fantasies]

A Clinical Analysis of Cloud's Psychology, Part III - Reintegration and Unconditional Love

This is the conclusion to my series on Cloud's psychology, where I will discuss identity reintegration. The original was posted on Reddit. You don't need to have read the other posts to understand this one, but it's highly encouraged so you can follow my overall train of thought. I'll still include a quick and dirty review of the important concepts from Part II that will be relevant here. To provide some background, I'm currently training in clinical diagnosis and psychotherapy to become a psychologist. I want to apply what I know to break down our understanding of Cloud in a clinical context.

Part I - Trauma, Dissociation, and Psychosis Part II - Identity, Self-Concept, and Mako Part III - Reintegration and Unconditional Love [you are here]

I find the term reintegration very fitting, considering that Cloud's recovery is portrayed by multiple Clouds coming back together again into one whole person. We've established how Cloud's sense of self was shattered through a combination of trauma, Jenova cells, mako poisoning, and his innate desire for strength. In the real world, he'd likely need therapy over his entire lifetime in order to reorganize his identity. But since this is Final Fantasy, Cloud has access to a special metaphysical experience. When Cloud and Tifa fell into the lifestream, he was able to literally pull Tifa into his subconscious and enable her to help organize his memories. I'm going to discuss how and why this works, as well as why Cloud needed Tifa specifically. I'm NOT trying to put a shipping angle on this, I'm just primarily interested in what it took for Cloud to heal, and it's impossible to ignore Tifa's importance in this case.

Quick Recap of Self-Concept

Self-concept, or your understanding of who you are, is made up of three main parts:

Ideal Self - Who you want or aspire to be

Real Self - Who you actually are

Self-Image - Your mental picture of yourself

A good self-image relies on congruence between the ideal self and the real self. Basically, the more similar they are, the better your self-esteem. If they are dissimilar, then it creates incongruence that reduces self-esteem.

Cloud's ideal self wants to be strong, but his real self never made SOLDIER, resulting in incongruence and low self-esteem for much of his life. After Zack's death, Cloud's ex-SOLDIER persona was born inspired by his ideal self, made to help him process his trauma. This boosted congruence but caused him to dissociate from his real self, leaving him vulnerable to manipulation.

The Importance of Tifa

The cornerstone of identity reintegration in the real world is relational support. Because the individual can't rely on himself to reorient who he is, he needs someone else that is able to do that for him, to contain his uncertainties. This often refers to the therapeutic relationship between a patient and his therapist, where the therapist's assurance provides support to the patient and helps him gain the confidence to safely explore his identity. It's clear that for Cloud, the person who helps him reorient his sense of self is Tifa. While Tifa serves the important role of helping Cloud clarify his memories, this alone isn't sufficient for reintegration, the same as how confronting people with the truth doesn't resolve their delusions. It's Cloud's relationship to Tifa that gave him a source of stability to ground him.

In Cloud's subconscious, Tifa helped Cloud remember key parts of his past that explain who he is in the present and why he knows the things that he does. In psychology, the subconscious contains information that isn't immediately part of a person's awareness, therefore this tells us that Cloud indeed still has his real self buried within him. One of the Clouds is different, a child version of him that is meant to represent his true feelings and therefore can be thought of as his real self. This child Cloud ends up explaining the roots of his identity, primarily his ideal self and how it came to be. Child Cloud explains to Tifa that the reason he wanted to join SOLDIER was because he failed to protect Tifa from falling at Mt. Nibel. This tells us that Tifa is at the root of Cloud's ideal self, something that I will keep emphasizing as the key to her importance.

Because Tifa is the root of his ideal self, she is also a massive determinant of Cloud's self-image. This is precisely why Tifa ended up being the final key to Cloud's breakdown at the Northern Crater. When a relational support is feeling anxious or overwhelmed, this spills over to the person relying on her. Prior to Cloud's disappearance after he gave Sephiroth the black materia, Tifa wasn't able to fully be there for Cloud because of her own confusion and apprehension towards Cloud's ex-SOLDIER persona. This only escalated when Sephiroth used her memories against Cloud, casting doubt on whether or not the Cloud she saw in front of her was Cloud from Nibelheim. Remember, the looking glass self draws self-esteem and self-image from how other people see the individual. When Cloud was unsure of who he was, he attempted to look to Tifa for reassurance, and in the moment she was unable to provide that.

Once they're in the lifestream, a large part of what Tifa did was help Cloud affirm that his memories are real. The spent a lot of their time in Cloud's subconscious comparing his memories to Tifa's. But, it was only when Cloud recalled memories that even Tifa couldn't recall that they truly began to make progress with Cloud's identity reintegration. Tifa didn't dig up Cloud's memories, but notably she prompted Cloud to recall why he wanted to join SOLDIER in the first place. Through this, Cloud was prompted to remember the failures that led to his enlistment. Cloud seemed hesitant to talk about his childhood memories related to this, but Tifa provided continuous encouragement as he walked through what happened. And, by recalling why he wanted to join SOLDIER, Cloud was reminded that he never lived up to that dream, directing them to reflect on the Nibelheim Incident again.

Unconditional Love

If we're trying to look at this from a psychology angle, I'd argue that confirming Cloud's memories isn't the most important thing Tifa did for him. The treatment modality that real world therapists use for identity reintegration is called unconditional positive regard, which is unconditional acceptance of a patient as he is. This is telling the patient, "I'm not here to judge you, I will see you and accept you for who you are." This is how the therapist helps the patient manage his fears and anxieties, creating the space for safely exploring his identity. But Tifa isn't Cloud's therapist, she's a dear friend who has a personal relationship with him. When talking about how loved ones help people experiencing identity problems, we say that their unconditional love is what supports the individual. This is why Cloud needed a loved one to be there with him in his subconscious, so that he could find the courage to explore it. Tifa's devotion in particular is so strong that she decided to stay with him in Mideel, when he was at his weakest. Cloud can easily find assurance that she is there to stay and that even when he is weak, she will still accept him. Also, it's worth mentioning that by allowing Tifa into his subconscious, Cloud is expressing unconditional love for her as well. He doesn't blame her for doubting him and still seeks comfort and reassurance from her.

Remember that Cloud's self-esteem is built upon his ability to protect those he cares about. However, Tifa's unconditional love allows him to reshape how his looking-glass self works. Crucially, she affirmed that Cloud did keep his promise, that he did protect her during the Nibelheim Incident. It's a fairly quick moment in the OG, but arguably one of the most important things Tifa says in the story. Cloud felt like he's been failing Tifa for years, but once Tifa tells him that he kept his promise after all, she is telling him that his real self is more congruent with his ideal self than he thinks. Remember, Tifa is at the root of Cloud's ideal self, which is why he cares so much about what she thinks. By providing affirmation, Tifa gave Cloud a means to reconceptualize his self-esteem in a more positive manner. Her unconditional love is also what gives him the courage to openly admit his facade to the rest of the party later on. There also, when Cloud explains how his ex-SOLDIER persona was an illusion, the party doesn't judge him or chastise him for it. They listen to him openly and accept him for who he is, providing unconditional love through their unyielding support for the main mission. This is another rather quick scene, but very necessary for Cloud nonetheless.

Tifa provided Cloud with unconditional love and affirmed congruence between his real self and ideal self. This positively affected his self-esteem and overall self-image, giving him a pathway back to accepting his true self and reintegrating it into his self-concept. It's very clever how the true retelling of the Nibelheim Incident manages to clear up their memories and provide Cloud with affirmation at the same time. I think this is why Cloud is able to reintegrate his identity so shortly after revealing that he was there at the Nibelheim Incident.

Final Thoughts

Something else that came to mind while thinking about Cloud's reintegration is the fact that mentally, he is still around 16 years old. Developmentally, Cloud is still in a period where he would be exploring who he is and looking to the people around him to affirm him. Self-esteem is important for everyone, but especially volatile during adolescence. Teenagers are especially sensitive to other people's opinions, which only highlights the fact that Cloud truly needed to hear affirmation and encouragement from someone else. Because of this, and because of the emotional growth that Cloud experiences, I'd argue that in some ways you could think of his character arc as a coming-of-age story.

Cloud's personal journey is my favorite part of FFVII, and it's amazing to me how well it fits in with real world psychological concepts. I believe that it will be largely preserved from the OG, with expansions to add depth and nuance to Cloud's experience. He's the hero that was never really meant to be a hero but ended up saving the world anyway, and one of my favorite characters in fiction. I hope that my analysis successfully conveys the deep appreciation I have for Cloud's character.

I also might do a similar analysis on Sephiroth eventually?

#final fantasy #final fantasy 7 #final fantasy vii #ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy vii remake #final fantasy 7 rebirth #ff7r #ff7 remake #ff7 rebirth #ffvii rebirth #cloud strife #tifa lockhart

[theambitiouswoman]

I’m new to being back on Tumblr after a lot of years. Your page is everything I used to aspire to do on a platform. I really admire your take on things.

The last year has really put me through a lot. I had a baby in December, my partner and I have both been battling our mental health (he’s bipolar and I have BPD), and in May after 27 years, I found my birth family. This was great for all of 5 seconds, but soon unraveled a very deeply traumatized line of ancestors on both sides- including my dad being unalived by my grandfather before he unalived himself 20 years ago next month.

There’s a lot of other daily nuances I could go into but essentially- I just feel totally taken over by depression, anxiety and a never-ending feeling of being overwhelmed.. and as many times as I feel like I’ve gotten myself out of a bad headspace, this time just feels so overpowering and it’s really ruining my relationship and my family in the process. My boyfriend doesn’t often have the capacity to be emotionally supportive because he’s got his own stuff going on, and I’m in a state with no friends or family around to feel like I can turn to anyone else. We both work full time, don’t have off days together and on all of my off days I have the baby by myself.

Do you have any suggestions based off what I’ve shared as to what I could do to find my way back to myself and a more positive place? I feel like I wake up most days and immediately start complaining and by the evening I’m isolating myself to the bedroom and crying myself to sleep. I just don’t want to be this version of myself anymore.

Thank you so much! I am very humbled 💗

Congratulations on your baby!!!

All of your experiences this past year, good or bad can take a toll on anyone emotionally. That was a lot to hit you with after the other. Any person would be drained especially when we do not have the opportunity to process them.

With that, I want to say that from the outside, it seems like your life revolves around everyone else but you. Like you lost yourself a bit. And that is not really fair for you. But that is okay. Happens to the best of us <3 All of these things aside from i'm sure daily problems and nuisances can alone exhaust us and take a toll on our mental health. Remember that, for us to give the best to others, we have to first give it to ourselves. I know we want and need support. You are not wrong for it. Unfortunately a lot of times we won't get it. The truth is, we need to learn how to be our own support system too. This might sound unfair and hard, totally. It probably is. But it helps build you up. And I think this is where you are currently at with yourself?

These negative thoughts and feelings are going to continue to live there until you decide to take an active role in your life. Not making it about everyone else, and the feelings they provoke in you. If you truly want to change your current reality, you need to decide to and commit. You need to reframe the story you are currently telling yourself. Even if you feel like you are lying to yourself in the beginning. if you know you wake up complaining then that tells me you are already aware of it. Your position would be to realize when you are about to do it, stop yourself, and change your thought pattern into something positive. Start practicing this with every negative thought or action you have through out the day. Start by accustoming yourself to become aware of it all. Even if we mess up, auto correct yourself immediately. Seriously. Remember that the more negativity we project, even valid, is what we will continue to get back. Nothing changes if we do not change. I would recommend finding healthier ways for you to express your negative emotions. Journaling is great honestly because not only can you vent, but you can analyze and create possible solutions. It is very good to let our feelings out, especially understand them past the problem at hand, but it is not good to make them our whole life.

You can regain control of your life and this narrative you are living in the second you decide and commit to. Sounds easy, and it is. It is easy to understand, but hard to implement. It is also very worth it.

Sometimes things do not happen to us, they happen for us. Changing your life starts with you. Do not let these feelings, people, experiences turn you into someone you are not. It is literally YOUR LIFE. Remember how amazing you are, it is time.

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Kanato Ecstasy [08]

ー The scene starts on the open field of Rotigenberg 

Yui: Thank you for everything, Kino-kun. I’d appreciate it if you could pass my thanks to Yuuri-san as well. 

Kino: Will do!

Kanato: ...Just so you know, I don’t trust you in the slightest. 

You are my enemy and nothing more. Please remember that. 

Yui: K-Kanato-kun...

( I mean, it’s true that Kino-kun isn’t entirely trustworthy, but I can’t believe he’d say that straight to his face. )

Kino: Fufu. You have no filter, do you?

Kanato: Well then, farewell. 

ー The scene shifts to the forest

Yui: ( Anyway, I wonder why Kino-kun was so nice to us in the first place...? )

( He wanted to interfere with the Apple of Eden project, didn’t he? )

( Then I don’t really understand why he’d save us...? )

( Hmー ....I wonder if he decided it wasn’t that big of a deal after all...? )

( I don’t really get it, but I doubt the two of us can become Adam and Eve under the current circumstances... )

Kanato: ーー Hey, Yui-san. What do you want to do at Eden? 

Yui: Eh...?

Kanato: I mean, we’re going to live there from today onwards, right? 

So I believe it wouldn’t hurt to discuss the things we’d like to do.

Yui: Hmー ...Sorry. I can’t think of anything on the spot.

Do you have something in mind?

Kanato: Yes, tons of things.

First of all, I want to eat the pudding you make.

Once I’ve completely filled my belly, I want to take a long afternoon nap together. 

And then afterwards ... ーー 

Yui: ( Kanato-kun seems very happy. )

( Is this right though...? Can I really take Kanato-kun to Eden as if I’m leading him straight into a trap...? )

Selection

→ Tell him the truth (❦)

Yui: ( I should tell him the truth after all. )

( Even if it shakes him up...I can simply calm him down before his powers go out of control. )

( It’ll be fine...I’m sure I can manage it. )

→ I shouldn’t tell him 

Yui: ( I probably shouldn’t tell him, huh? )

Kanato: ...Have you thought of something you’d like to do as well? 

Yui: W-Well...Not really.

( He looks so cheerful...I guess I should tell him after all. )

( If I continue to hide it, I’ll only hurt him more in the end. )

( I don’t want to see him sad. )

Yui: Listen, Kanato-kun. There’s something I have to tell you...

Kanato: ...Yes?

Yui: I’m sorry for keeping it a secret. But...It’s very important, so I want you to listen. 

Monologue

And so, I told Kanato-kun,

about the situation in the Demon World. 

About how the things he has done,

caused certain developments,

in the already ongoing fight for sovereignty over this World. 

As well as about which role,

the Sakamaki and Mukami brothers will take in this. 

And finally, that if he were to go to Eden right now,

he might just find himself surrounded by many opponents,

who will try to strike him down.

Kanato: Hmm. I see.

They’ve all chosen to rise against me, it seems? 

Yui: Y-Yeah...

Kanato: Fufu, it’s fine. 

I have powers. I’ll make quick work of anyone who stands in the way of my goals. 

Yui: B-But...! It’s your brothers and the Mukami family who are at Eden, remember? 

Don’t you feel scared...or reluctant to fight them...?

Kanato: So? 

I honestly don’t care who my opponent is. 

I told you, didn’t I? I honestly could care less about what happens to this World, as long as I have you...

So I don’t really mind. I believe they can simply do what feels right to them. 

Yui: ...

Monologue

He might have to kill his brothers. 

Or alternatively,

he could just end up losing his life at their hands.

Despite that being the situation,

Kanato-kun did not seem bothered at all,

as he continued to cheerfully talk away,

about our supposed ‘dream life’ (夢の暮らし)  at Eden. 

There’s something wrong with Kanato-kun,

he’s gone insane (狂っている). 

Still, perhaps I am the most crazy of all...

For being unable to abandon him,

despite of this. 

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #kanato sakamaki #lost eden #diabolik lovers translation #lekanatoecstasy8

[wamtorical]

Jemima was approaching her second birthday and was slowly but surely growing bigger. While the loans were far from being fully paid off, they were progressing reasonably well and all seemed fine. In reality, Elmer's job as a nurse proved to be a difficult task, often leaving him home as late as 10pm. He thought it was ridiculous; how would he manage to spend quality time with his lonesome wife and child living like this?

In search of a means to relax, Elmer took up a new hobby: woodworking. Not only could this help save money, but it could help make money should anyone be interested in his creations. His first long-term project was an easel he'd made for Claudia, subtly encouraging her to explore a new hobby and follow in his footsteps. Given the limited activities on the farm, indulging in a little fun wouldn't harm either of them.

Still, the mounting stress was taking its toll hard on Elmer. The weight of his responsibilities became overwhelming and solemnly watching him break down as soon as he stepped foot into the bedroom was an all too common occurrence for Claudia.

She too faced her own set of challenges as she navigated the journey of motherhood, shouldering the responsibility alone most of the time due to Elmer's demanding shifts. Raising a child sure proved to be a tricky task. Jemima's peaceful and quiet nature occasionally granted her moments of respite and during these precious intervals, she managed to carve out time for herself. Leaving the task of nurturing the baby to a trusted friend, Vera Brindleton - patriarch of the proud Brindleton family - had invited her for tea in the local cafe to finally get to know the new family in town ... Even if it had been a few years by now.

The town centre held a special place in Claudia's heart. It offered a stunning view of Brindleton Bay's finest sea and alongside it, a vibrant yet not overwhelmingly crowded atmosphere. The surrounding shops and their nostalgic energy, as if you could sense the citizens that had once roamed the area years back, added to the charm of the place. During their outing, the topic of children had been brought up by Vera.

Vera: "A single babe? And a female, too? That shan't do Claudia, do you know how imporant bearing sons are for us ladies?"

"Should you feel true pride for your country and take the role of a proper English woman, you simply must give birth to future protectors of our land. I've lived by that for as long as I can remember. Do you know how many brothers I have?"

Claudia: "I appreciate the sentiment, Vera, but I believe bearing children is more than just producing human safety nets - Though believe me when I tell you I don't intend to come across hostile. Pregnancy has just never been an easy decision for me."

Vera let out a deep sigh, dismissing Claudia's logic as if it were a mere product of a child's mind in dire need of further education.

Vera: "I love my sons very much. My boys understand just as much as I do their role in society. They must protect us and I assure you they are more than willing to die for Britain. Pride naturally courses through their veins. War is not something to be wished upon, of course, I'm saying it is simply what they were born for." Vera calmly claimed, leaving Claudia wondering how Vera's youngest boy - 6 months - was able to understand the weight of his mortailty to this degree.

Claudia: "But Vera, raising children is ever so hard ... And should war come upon us, I'd hate to see any son of mine leave to fight. My child's life is surely worth more than my country."

"Then you stand alone. You have a kind heart, Claudia, but you lack the ability to see past your emotions. The greater good will always be for, as it suggests, the greater good. No matter what."

After they'd parted, Claudia felt incredibly conflicted. On one hand, she wanted to stay true to her values and on the other, she couldn't help but ponder whether there was any truth to Vera's words. One undeniable fact remained: most women in Brindleton bay possessed sizely families, so just like Vera had put it, she really did stand alone. Perhaps, she thought, it would be better to contribute to this societal norm rather than disappoint the people around her. It was just so scary ... Claudia would have to make up her mind, and fast.

📜 next / previous / first

#The Pence Legacy #ts4 decades challenge #Claudia pence #Elmer pence #Jemima pence #1890spence #pencelegacy #1890s #ts4

[sixty-silver-wishes]

Translated article: "Meetings with Shostakovich," Solomon Gershov

This is my original translation of an article originally published in Sovetskaya Muziyka (now Muzikalnaya Akademia), issue 12, 1988. As I am not a native Russian speaker, this translation may not be perfect; however, I have attempted to translate it to the best of my ability.

The original article: Встречи с Шостаковичем (mus.academy)

I want to start my short story about Shostakovich from afar. In our time, different people, for different reasons, have turned to me with questions about this, how, when in these circumstances, my meetings with Dmitri Dmitriyevich Shostakovich came together. At that time, I was young, an amateur artist, and Shostakovich was already a famous composer. Therefore, these questions were sometimes delivered with unambiguous notes of snobbishness and mockery. 

I had no relation to musical art, nor did I play any instruments. But that didn’t stop me from attending the concerts of the Leningrad Philharmonic, buying affordable entrance tickets, and listening to music, which opened to me a world of enchantment and beauty.

How then, after all, did my meeting with Shostakovich transpire? I was led to him at the house of the artist Boris Mikhailovich Erbshtein in the summer of 1929. (At that time, the ballet “The Red Poppy” was being staged at the Marinskiiy theatre, with Ulanova in the lead role.) Dmitri Dmitriyevich waited for us. He met us cordially. I managed to tell him a little about my modest success of my exhibition at the House of Art, not to mention the criticisms in the “Evening Krasnaya Gazeta” on a certain V. Gross.

Other meetings followed this one. I was well-received at his house. He lived there with his mother, Sofiya Vasilievna, and his two sisters, Maria Dmitriyevna and Zoya Dmitriyevna. I think it’s not a mistake for me to say they showed me some sympathy. 

Naturally, I wanted to paint Dmitri Dmitriyevich. But this proved to be a difficult task, as it was unbearable for him to sit still. A state of rest was organically alien to him, in view of his impulsiveness, mobility, even some nervousness. Still, it’s a wonder that Kustodiev could sketch a portrait of Shostakovich at the time when he was a boy, with his restlessness.

And yet I contrived to make an outline with the nature of the moment, when Dmitri Dmitriyevich was resting on the black leather couch, occupying three quarters of the area of the little office.

I showed him these little drawings sometimes. To tell the truth, they didn’t particularly move him, which didn’t affect my further attempts to draw him again and again. Unfortunately, a large amount of the drawings were lost for reasons I was not responsible for. Maybe some are left, which I gave to friends.

Our meetings in those years were mainly saturated with conversations about art, first of all about music and the people who created it. Among the many topics we touched on, I remember Beethoven. I was very interested to find out his opinion on the Heiligenstadt testament.

“Do you know what the most surprising thing about it is?” he said. ”In my opinion, it is that his Second Symphony was already written after the testament, and he finished it in C major.” After many years, when Shostakovich’s 13th Symphony appeared, it seemed no less amazing to me that the finale he wrote was also in this emotional key. 

We talked about the tendency towards atonality in music and the destruction of melody. Due to my commitment towards Beethoven, Bach, and Mozart, Shostakovich’s music seemed difficult to me the first time I heard it. Only when Mahler, Bruckner, Hindemith, Berg gradually grew closer to me did I understand his work. I was candid with him, and he was not offended by me. He said, “listen to more music, and different [music].”

We argued about literature. He was mainly occupied with Gogol, Saltykov-Shchedrin, Leskov. He really appreciated Kozma Prutkov and often quoted him. He loved that place where the following is said: “[while] throwing pebbles in the water, look at the circles they form; otherwise, such an activity would be idle sport.” (note- orig. «Бросая в воду камешки, смотри на кругу, ими образуемые, иначе такое заняте будет пустой забавою») I paid attention to his enthusiasm in his view on literature, which was characterized by the grotesque, satire, and sharp metaphors.

But one such interesting detail: Since childhood, the book “Tom Sawyer” by Mark Twain was on his table. Doesn’t that mean that something childish and mischievous sits in the depths of the soul of even a very serious genius?

Somehow, Dmitri Dmitriyevich invited me to the movie theater to see a film starring Buster Keaton, an actor whom, along with Charlie Chaplin, he was very interested in. The movie theater was located on Vosstaniya street (formerly Znamenskaya). The film brought us much pleasure. The tragic essence of Buster Keaton was constant with Shostakovich’s own mood.

On the way home, he suddenly said to me, “come home with me for a short while.” “Home” represented the character of Petersburg at the end of the century. We went through the front door, ascended to the fourth floor, and Dmitri Dmitriyevich turned on the light, and I saw that the main thing in the room was the grand piano. Without a word, he went to the piano and began to play Chopin’s Seventh Waltz. The waltz sounded marvelously beautiful, touching at the occasional rest. Then, we left immediately. 

Outside, I timidly asked him, “what is that room you have? We’ve never heard anything about it.” He answered that it was necessary for him to have a place where he could work in privacy…

I wanted to ask him why exactly he played Chopin, since it seemed that all of his musical works were very far from the spirit of Chopin’s music. But I calculated that the conversation was heading in an uncomfortable direction. I never visited that room again, but the episode has always stayed in my memory.

I knew that Dmitri Dmitriyevich was interested in the circus. Once, I invited him to see a performance by the famous strongman Chekhovsky. Shostakovich willingly agreed.

Jugglers, gymnasts, clowns, and trained dogs all performed in the first act. But with a particular impatience, we, like the whole audience, waited for the second act with Chekhovsky. His performance looked like this: He lay down completely flat in the arena, with a pretty big wooden shield over his chest. An automobile rolled over the shield, crowded with passengers, and afterwards, to the delight of the crowd, he got up as if nothing had happened. Then, he put a long iron pole on his shoulders, from which hung about ten people- or twelve! With all this cargo, the performer made circles from one side, then to the other. 

Why do I recount these episodes? I want to cancel the perception that Dmitri Dmitriyevich only saw the world from outside the window of his office. He loved life in all its manifestations.

For those who knew Dmitri Dmitriyevich closely, it’s no secret that he was a very cheerful person, loved sharp words, and appreciated this in others. 

In 1934, I went to Moscow. Thus, our communication was cut off. If we saw each other, it was only occasionally, at some concert already in Moscow. Only in the war years did our meetings resume. I lived at the time in evacuation in Novosibirsk, where Dmitri Dmitriyevich visited from time to time. In Novosibirsk, it’s well-known that the Leningrad Philharmonic orchestra evacuated there, led by Mravinsky and Kurt Sanderling. Ivan Ivanovich Sollertinsky also lived there with his family.

After the premiere of the Seventh Symphony in Moscow (1942), Kuibyshev, and Leningrad, Mravinsky prepared hard for it with his orchestra in Novosibirsk. I remember the first performance of the symphony in the hall of the Novosibirsk Philharmonic. The concert was a great success. I was amazed by what I’d heard. Present at the concert was Shostakovich himself, whom the hall enthusiastically greeted.

In 1944, Ivan Ivanovich suddenly died in Novosibirsk. His death produced a heavy impression on all who knew him. In the hall of the Philharmonic, a civil memorial service took place, where an enormous number of people gathered. I had to paint Ivan Ivanovich lying in the coffin. Later, in 1945, when the composer Georgiy Vasilievich Sviridov went to Leningrad, I asked him to give the painting to Shostakovich. Only after many years, when Sviridov was at my house (he came for a portrait of Shostakovich, which I decided to give him as one of Dmitri Dmitriyevich's closest friends), I asked him: "Did you give the painting of the deceased Sollertinsky to Dmitri Dmitriyevich?" And he answered me: "I kept it to myself." I understood him, and wasn't offended. Maybe he didn't want to cause Shostakovich even more pain.

Another small memory of the pre-war years. In Moscow 1938-39, there was a general meeting of arts workers at the capital on the so-called formalism in the works of musical and theatrical figures. I remember the speech of one orator- a music teacher. When, later, I asked Shostakovich his opinion on the speech, he, not thinking, answered, “what one composer says about another composer can be said without being a composer.” 

After the war, I returned to Moscow. One time, Shostakovich and I happened to meet outside. Dmitri Dmitriyevich was interested in what I was up to. I told him everything in detail. He left me his telephone number and asked me to somehow go with him.

I was surprised by his huge apartment in a building not far from the “Ukraine” hotel- almost without furniture. My attention was drawn to a portrait of the composer pictured at the piano- a gift by a Czech artist. His lifelike portrait did not especially produce an impression on me. But hung around it were others which I recalled- a portrait painted by Kustodiev, whose work I liked.

My meetings with Dmitri Dmitriyevich were broken off after then for a long time (until 1956). Letters rarely came to me from him. In one of them, he asked me to report to him in detail on the death of Boris Mikhailovich Erbshtein, our mutual friend. I fulfilled his request, but added that I was finishing a cycle of twenty works, dedicated to his Seventh Symphony.

I don’t know if other artists have attempted to depict the Seventh Symphony in paintings. But I got to work with great zeal. This applied not only to the period of the Great Patriotic War, but also the fascist invasion of Europe that started, for me, with the events in Spain.

Shostakovich was very interested in my reports. He asked me to go to Moscow and show him my works. Without delay, I collected all twenty pictures and sent them to him. Dmitri Dmitriyevich lived in a house on Nezhdanova Street. He let me know ahead of time on the telephone that he was already waiting for me. After a short conversation, we proceeded to the point. We looked at the pictures quietly (his whole family participated in this). Not a single word was said- no comments, nor compliments. When I finished showing them, I asked, “well, which one left an impression on you? You were quiet, and didn’t say anything to me.”

Then, he said, “I really like all of these works. They all produced a profound impression on me.” 

Hearing this, I decided to be generous and told him to choose any one of them as a gift. He liked seven of the works. So then I said, “take all seven!”

When we parted, Dmitri Dmitriyevich said to me, “come tomorrow and have lunch with us at two in the afternoon. We will wait for you.”

1968. I was given a ticket to the Creative House of Composers at Repino. I went there not so much to rest as to work. Soon, I noticed something strange- an unfriendly attitude towards myself from some of the members of the Composers’ Union who lived there at the time, especially their wives. It seemed to me that they were thinking, “walking among us is some sort of ignorant person, clearly unacquainted with music.” Suddenly, Dmitri Dmitriyevich arrives at the Creative House (he visited yearly). We met like good friends. Often, we’d have lunch or dinner together in the canteen, and walk together along the ice of the Finnish gulf. The others’ attitudes towards me drastically changed. Those who had almost bullied me now let me pass anywhere: to the cloakroom, to the canteen… Such a change brought me undisguised grievances (огорчения), and I shared them with Dmitri Dmitriyevich. He completely shared my outrage.

One evening, Dmitri Dmitriyevich, Irina Antonovna, and I went for a walk along the bay after dinner. When our stroll came to an end, I requested Dmitri Dmitriyevich to pose for a bit so I could draw him. He said that it wasn’t especially possible for him to sit, he couldn’t. I enthused to him that the duration of his “torment” would only last about ten to fifteen minutes. But this didn’t help. On the edge of despair, I heard Irina Antonovna’s words addressed to him: “Well, let’s go briefly; sit for a bit.”

Such was my joy when Dmitri Dmitriyevich uttered, with a patter, “okay, let’s go.” And we went. 

And here the three of us were in my small room in one of the cottages on the Creative House territory. Throwing off his coat and warm boots (his woolen socks stayed on), he perched on the couch for me. I grabbed paper and a pencil, and immediately began to draw. But I didn’t get a pose, because Dmitri Dmitriyevich kept turning his head to the left, then to the right, the whole time. With difficulty, I asked him not to move for at least one to two minutes. In the end, he finally succeeded at this, and not without effort. I don’t know which one of us it was more painful for, me or him… He continued to sit motionless for no more than three to four minutes, during which I managed to do three sketches. Looking at the tired view of Dmitri Dmitriyevich, one would think that he had endured a hard physical overload.

I used these sketches of mine- the only material from nature- for work on the portrait. There were three variants. Each one was of a different color [palette], composition, and size. In 1977, one of them entered the ownership of G.V. Sviridov. 

Of all the iconography of Shostakovich I know of, I want to highlight a portrait by the artist I. Serebryan. I feel that this work is an enormous achievement in our art, and not only ours. Before artists stood a very difficult task, and how brilliantly and talentedly he accomplished it. 

I will stop at one final episode, not related to music, true, but quite instructive. It was in 1929 (if I’m not mistaken). In the Raphael and Titian hall of the Academy of Artists, a large exhibit was arranged of Leningrad artists of different [ideological] currents (разных течений), beginning at the ultra-left and ending at the Orthodox right. A work was exhibited in this display (a female portrait). The opening vernissage was scheduled one Sunday for two hours a day, but it just so happened that nobody invited came. A small group of organizers of the  exhibit trampled down the landing stairs, waiting for visitors. 

About five minutes before the opening hour, the figure of a lone man of small stature appeared on the horizon, familiar to every Leningrader. It was the President of the Academy of Sciences of the USSR, Aleksandr Petrovich Karpinsky (later, the Academy of Sciences transferred to Moscow). After a short pause, he took from the side of his pocket his old-fashioned pocket watch with a silver lid (its ticking was barely audible), screwed up his eyes to look at the clock face, and uttered, “the opening starts at two, but now it’s seven minutes past three.” With the raised watch lid, he passed each of the organizers in turn, showing them the watch face. This created an awkward situation. The reference to the fact that the public was expected did not convince him. He said, “it’s scheduled for two hours, we need the exhibit to open, despite the situation.”

And the opening took place in the presence of these four men, not counting the watchman. In the evening, I was with Dmitri Dmitriyevich and told him about this occasion. Having listened to me attentively, he uttered, “they taught your brother a lesson!!!”

I answered, “not only our brother; aside from our brother- the respected public!” (не только нашего брата, но и не нашего брата тоже— уважаемую публику!) 

Impatiently, I waited for Shostakovich’s new work to appear- the transformation into music of Gogol’s story “The Portrait.” It’s difficult to say what could have hindered this plan. I only know that it was not about a play, but an operatic show. 

Dmitri Dmitriyevich loved to repeat the advice of the famous French artist Edgar Degas: “if you have skill worth a hundred thousand francs, try to add at least one more sou to it.”

In conclusion, I want to talk about one characteristic particular to Shostakovich’s personality. I refer to his oratorical talent. In the Great Hall of the Philharmonic, his speeches before concerts were distinguished by freedom of expression, deep thought, and impeccable style. The enormous erudition of the composer caught my eye, not only in music. He spoke without supporting notes or abstracts. It was a delight to listen to him. When he spoke, he always waved his hands [in a ‘brushing aside’ motion/ отмахивался].

Several years passed. I knew that Dmitri Dmitriyevich was sick, and that his legs were seriously injured. The season at the Maly hall of the Leningrad Philharmonic traditionally opened with an author’s concert of Shostakovich. Knowing about the next such concert, I went to get a ticket. On the way there, already close to the Philharmonic, I met Dmitri Dmitriyevich. He moved laboriously. I immediately announced that I was going to buy a ticket for his concert. We parted then, so that we would meet the next day after the concert. But this was not destined to come to pass. When I went to Maly hall the next day, an announcement was hung on the doors that read that due to his illness, Shostakovich’s concert was canceled… Soon, I found out that he had a heart attack and was admitted to the hospital. 

That was my last meeting with the composer.

#shostakovich #dmitri shostakovich #muzikalnaya akademia #sovetskaya muziyka #soviet history #classical music #classical music history #composer

[yieldfruit]

i feel lost and discouraged.

i know my purpose in life is to love & worship God and make Him known. but what does that mean career wise? i’ve never felt like i’ve had any talents or passions to make a career choice. i’ve just been working average jobs, but i’m nearing 28 and i feel like i don’t have much to show for, nor do i even have a stable job.

truth be told, i just want to be a wife.. a mom.. a homemaker.. but i’m single.

i guess i’m just feeling a little bit like a failure in the job department, especially in a society that puts so much emphasis on your career path. and i’m not sure what to do :/

I understand. I didn't have my "career" until older than you. Somehow things always worked out along the way, God always provided and life was always decent. You can live life working what some may think of as average jobs. A person brings honor to a job, not the other way around. I remember feeling insecure/like I should feel embarrassed or less than because I wasn't a high-earning career woman. Women close to me were this though and they weren't happy; 2 of them I know cheated on their husbands, 1 with a man she met at work. What I am trying to convey: having more money and a career doesn't bring happiness, but I think you know this. We bring honor to the work we do, whatever that may be as long as it is honest work. One of my favorite verses, "aspire to live quietly, and to mind your own affairs, and to work with your hands, as we instructed you," 1 Thessalonians 4:11. I personally think the pressure is more so on men to be providers as it should be (1 Timothy 5:8). Women are to be homemakers (Titus 2:5). That doesn't mean we don't have Biblical examples of women who didn't work (Acts 16:14, Proverbs 31:16). However, we do not see biblically that women are to work outside of the home at expense of their families. I do believe that inner desire to be pursued, cared for, provided for is a good desire. I am in a position where I have always had to work as the provider of the family (although truly I view God as our Provider, not myself). Miraculously, I have been able to raise my child for 14 years on my own and be with her for most all of that - being a present, "stay at home" mom many times in working from home roles or roles in which I could bring her with me. God provided for us financially and it was not done at the expense of my first ministry: to my family.

Until married there is work to do, so choose something to do. Your giftings is a good place to start. Do you love to nurture? To bake? To cook? To problem solve? Manual labor? Editing? There are many paths of work to choose in your giftings; I just prayed for you, for the Lord to put it on your heart what he has for you with your natural giftings and that you don't think less of yourself because of not being where others may be at. Don't think less of yourself whatsoever, remember your desires are good. How do we know they're good? Biblically they're upheld. Ultimately as you know our identity is in Christ whether marriage happens on earth or not. I pray it does for you, but we cannot sit at home on our hands until then. There is a harvest. There are giftings you have. There are things you can do now that can make you even more excellent as a wife. Your desires are good, but only the Lord knows how they will be met on earth or not and in his timing.

I have a career now and sometimes it seems a bit fancy-ish and I make more money than I have before, but I'm not the less lonely for it. My bills are paid (but they were always paid even when I earned less) and I have cushion, but cushion for what? To buy more stuff? I give because that seems the wisest to do with what we have been given. Even when I earned less though I gave - I absolutely believe we should all tithe, it is an act of worship and frees us from the love of money and solidifies it in our bones that it is God who gives us the ability to earn. My life isn't actually all that different now, it really isn't. I still can't afford to buy a house in California (because it's astronomical here). I don't actually want to buy my own home anyway, I want to make a home with someone. I don't like the idea of being this self-sufficient independent woman who has it all and can do it all. Perhaps I can, but that's not my drive or desire. My desire, like yours I perceive, is to love and be loved - to nurture, to be provided for, to give out to children as my husband cares for us in an overarching way. I am not ashamed of these desires because again, we see it biblically. In the meantime though, work - and use your giftings in your work. May the Lord provide for you soon. Don't think less of yourself, please. I know many a career woman who is miserable inside/not necessarily satisfied or "abundant" or feeling fulfilled.