#is just another story and ordeal in itself.

[mayaree-darling]

who's to say what's real or fake// Genshin SAGAU

from aree: impostor au but you actually are the impostor? but ofcourse theres a twist. I think i'll call this FakeGrace!Reader. This was just going to be a headcannon post but ended up a whole fic plot

warnings: themes that all come with the sagau tag (yandere, lots of religious talk, cult, etc.)

word count: 2k~

You end up on Teyvat and immediately the characters recognize you as their Creator; of course you're their Creator - you have the same face, name, and voice. You go through the ordeal of getting to know all the characters all over again and they in turn love you as the god they’ve been waiting for all this time.

You decide that well, this is the world and characters I spent blood, sweat, and tears building (even if it was behind a screen) so might as well help out and do what needs to be done. The people come to you for their problems and you find that they're not as difficult as when you were simply a player. Maybe a minor dispute here and there between the NPCs, but now the vision holders and the Archons ask for your thoughts on how to go about political matters concerning their nations. Even Snezhnaya has signed a peace treaty with the other nations as a show of good faith to the Creator (even if you know for a fact its a temporary one).

All has never been better.

Until another Creator appears in Teyvat, and this one bleeds gold the way their stories foretold. In a way you do not.

The vision holders are torn. Yes, you are an impostor, and they want to hate you for tricking them, but at the same time haven’t you only shown them love? Haven’t you been patient with them and understanding despite being thrown into a world you’re unfamiliar with?

But with careful coercion from the other god, they have to choose to follow their true Creator. You decide to take pity on them and step down from your position yourself, choosing to live with the Aranara who have gladly taken you under their wing (fake god you may be, you are still a friend of the forest, and the forest always remembers its friends).

The Archons tell their new Creator that you are no more. They pretend to not hear when the Creator says they should have brought your head with them, maybe just a bitter reaction for finding out that they have been serving an impostor all this time (the Archons are lying when they say they do not feel sickened at the idea of hurting you, and disgusted at this new God's words)

It soon becomes clear to the people of Teyvat that this new Creator is not you - none of the patience or kindness you had showed them. This new one thinks helping their people is below them, even laughs at some of their problems. They chuck their duties as a god to the vision holders and spend their days leisurely, wining and dining on the best food, expecting to be waited on hand and foot. And at first it was fine, the characters understood. Maybe their Creator was just enjoying the fruits of their labor for once (although in the back of their mind, they can't help but compare you - you who worked tirelessly to attend to everyone even when they’d almost beg you to take a break). The characters tell themselves that they just need to get used to this new god, their true Creator. It will all right itself in time. Even as the Creator acted more like a child by the day, calling for the punishment of characters for the simplest of things. It’s fine. It’s fine.

It didn't take long for their will to break.

The God of Wisdom is called as such for a reason. Nahida may be younger compared to the rest, but she is braver than most. She simply tried to impart a fraction of her wisdom, softly suggesting to the Creator to show mercy for their people who were gravely punished for things they did not do.

This Creator was not you. They did not have a drop of patience that you had, nor any love for their creations. Their god saw this as nothing but an act of treason. How dare a mere Archon tell them what to do? She dares to question who the Creator can and cannot punish?

The silence is deafening in the throne room as the Creator calls for the death of Lesser Lord Kusanali and the destruction of Sumeru. If it is mercy she asks for then it is the last thing she and her people will receive. The other Archons agree past gritted teeth, the sin of Khaenri’ah weighing heavy over their shoulders still.

Nahida had been banished to Sumeru before the order was given, so the Archons make their way to the Nation of Wisdom to tell her of her sentencing, hoping to beg her to ask the Creator for their forgiveness.

This can't be how it ends. Are they to spend their lives in fear of the god they so revered?

They enter a forest emitting divine energy in search of their friend, hearts heavy, but they found something else.

They found you. They found the Creator they loved once upon a time.

They seemed to have caught you mid-conversation with Nahida, and to their surprise (and resentment) the Tsaritsa; they can only assume that the god of Snezhnaya has informed you first of Nahida's fate. The Wanderer catches sight of them and stands in front of you in protection. You don't even bat an eye. You swallow hard and stand, Nahida's hand enveloped in yours, and the other gods would be lying if they say they did not feel jealousy strangling their lungs.

With a steady voice, you tell them that should they take one step against Nahida, you will meet them halfway. If they decide to send Sumeru to hell, they will have to go through you first. You will do everything you can to stop them, and if Sumeru falls then you fall with them.

They don't have to look at the others to make up their mind. There's a beat of silence but first it's Morax, and Beelzebul and Barbatos and then Focalor, and they are on their knees, heads bowed low.

It is only right to show respect to their god, after all. How could they be so blind?

Validation of their actions comes soon after as you let go of Nahida's hand and tell the Wanderer to stand aside. You do something that tyrant of a Creator that sits on a glass throne would never - you kneel before them and hold out your hand.

"Why are you all kneeling? Stand up. I am no longer your god. But I hope you will have me as a friend. Will that be alright?"

There are tears in their eyes as they let out stuttering laughter. Yes, this is their god. Their god with so much love and compassion and a heart that does nothing but bleed for them. A heart that does not ask for them to bleed.

You are their god. You are their true Creator. Golden blood be damned. All that gold has done nothing but blind them.

Eventually, you all end up on the forest floor. You accept the role of a friend as promised, and catch up with them. The Archons are almost in tears as you listen to their stories earnestly, squeezing their hands in sympathy as you listen to the pain they've been through under the rule of their so called Creator (they really should find a new title for you, the god that sits on your throne has sullied your rightful name). At one point they stop telling you stories of their mistreatment, unable to see your face be any sadder than it already was. They take to retelling your stories together, reminiscing better days - because is that not what they have done all this time? Think about the lovely you for every wrongdoing the other god had done in your name?

As you laugh and smile with them and their stories and their company, the idea burrows through their mind without your knowledge, taking root, and they refuse to let it go. Wouldn't it be so much better if it was always like this? Seeing your smiling face with them, a person that deserves to be called a god even more so than all of them combined. Knowing you were safe from harm, not having to defend yourself, especially from them under orders from a tyrant. Knowing you loved them the way they loved you.

It was all better with you.

When you weren't looking, the Archons gave each other knowing looks and curt nods in understanding.

You are their beloved Creator.

As a peaceful silence falls over you, they watch as you smile sadly, their hearts breaking to see such an expression on your face. In a soft voice, you apologize for not being able to do much to help them. When you lift your head, golden resolute eyes meet yours.

"You’ve done enough, Your Grace. Let us handle the rest."

You may have laughed at the old title, but the Archons are hell bent in returning it to you. Although it hurts them to say goodbye, they know it’s only for the moment. Soon, you will be with them. Back in your rightful throne, as you have always deserved.

Nahida is the youngest, and so they decide to spare her the carnage. The rest know she is no fool, they don't need to tell her what they had planned for her to know what happens next. She does not fully agree in the others' decision, yet she stays in Sumeru, promising to make sure you do not find out. Word travels fast to the other vision holders in the form of a breeze from Barbatos. Barely anyone had disagreed with the notion of removing the rejected god from the throne, and those who were hesitant at first changed their mind after hearing how you were ready to go down with Sumeru. Morax and the Tsaritsa lead the rebellion.

A god is only as powerful as the people who worship them. By the time the Archons arrived in the throne room, the Creator had no one to hide behind.

They made it a spectacle. They spin a tale for the people that the god they so worshiped was an impostor who had switched bodies with their rightful god, which explains the gold blood that should be yours. They say you were patiently waiting for them all to come back to you, to remove this impostor from your throne. You were ready to accept them all, they just needed to get rid of this filth that dared destroy your name. The Creator - no, the Impostor - is horrified when the people accept this story so easily, but they only have themselves to blame. Who cares what they have to say to defend themselves, although it’s not like they can anyway - how can they when their tongue was cut off?

Teyvat was silent as gold painted the streets of Liyue Harbor. Teyvat no longer cares for golden blood, not after all the blood and tears it had taken from its people. After all, a golden soul stands ready to take back their rightful place.

Your followers thought it had all been worth it - the pain, the hardships, the blood - to see you smile the first time you set foot outside Sumeru after what felt like years to them. And yet, despite the joyous occasion, you hesitantly turn to them and ask a question not even Irminsul would answer you.

"What happened to the Creator?"

You would be lying if you said the soft smiles each of them gave did not unnerve you as they all said the same thing, like a joke everyone knew all except you.

"We simply removed the Impostor from Your Grace's presence."

They are thankful that you are blinded by your love for them to see the gold shine on their hands. You do not ask about the shimmering streets either. Liyue was the city of gold after all, was it not?

For now, their biggest concern is your acceptance that they are your equal, but that can easily be fixed. You are their friend now, but someday you’ll be their god again. Slowly but surely. They will sit you back in your throne. They will kneel before you again. They will give you the reverence you so deserved.

It will all be yours.

You're their wonderful Creator, after all. Maybe not to you right now. But you always have been for them.

They’ll start from calling you Your Grace. You’d be too kind to tell them off over and over.

You always had been good at adapting.

You had gotten used to it then, you’ll get used to it again.

✨ Masterlist ✨ 

Taglist: 💛@anime-allover  💛@faeriessky  💛 @prksolon 💛 @dai-tsukki-desu

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

#genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin au #sagau genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact reader insert #sagau x reader #genshin cult au #sagau

[matan4il]

Buddie 610 meta

Holy shit, this ep.

Okay, what shall we start with? Maybe with what 911 itself starts, lots of foreshadowing. At the beach call, we have Eddie looking at Buck and replying to him (about the lightning), “I really hope it doesn’t strike twice, though.” Which, of course we know it will. But the foreshadowing continues, as Buck talks to Omar about unexpected things in life coming out of nowhere. That suggests we need to pay extra attention to other elements in this ep that might act as foreshadowing for later events along 6b. ~~

That kind of connects to me with Buck being closely tied to Ely, the pregnant lady (he saves the day there twice, first by realizing the oil is dripping and if they use the saw, it might prove fatal, then by helping Bobby with the baby). First off, it made me chuckle when we learned that, despite being driven to the hospital by a man, he’s actually not her partner. 911 made sure we knew Ely has a wife, and that she has another kid with her. Is it a coincidence when Buck, who practically has a husband and a kid with him already, is the main firefighter taking care of her? Maybe, but it still amused me. What really made me take note is when he told her not to push, trying to stall her childbirth, and she replied that it doesn’t depend on her. That made me wonder if perhaps this is also in a way foreshadowing what we might end up seeing with the sperm donation storyline. I’m not sure, I can’t be, but I was not surprised to see that storyline brought up later in the ep. ~~

In general, this ep’s title, “In a Flash,” might seem to refer to the lightning storm the team experiences, but the real tempest is the havoc our families can wreak on us, tied to the unexpected nature change can sometimes take on. Chim’s dad suddenly shows up, raining on his parade. Albert suddenly thinks Chim should give their dad a chance to be Jee Yun’s grandpa, but decides against giving his brother a warning. The Buckley parents are suddenly making an effort, yet leaving everyone suspicious and unnerved. Albert suddenly leaks Buck’s sperm donation to everyone and unleashes hell between the in-laws. Denny’s changes, probably influenced by getting in touch with his dad, come as a surprise to Hen. And of course, at the climax of the ep, Bobby as the unofficial adoptive father of Buck might lose his son in a flash. The whole ep is filled with these parallels of abrupt familial disquiet, especially in relation to dads, on all 118 fronts. And as Buck deals with maybe the biggest of these questions, because he doesn’t even yet know what he wants for himself and how does the life he helped create (but only as a donor) fit into that, it’s no wonder his life ends up hanging literally in the balance. ~~

One of the most painful things in this ep for me was seeing how much Buck’s parents are willing to accept him as a donor, because not for a second do they think he can be a father. That would be the natural conclusion from him looking at a sonogram on his phone, but his parents find it easier to believe their daughter is pregnant again than to think Buck would be a dad (ironic, because he already is one. Just not to the baby in the sonogram). It reminded me of how Eddie’s parents also didn’t believe in his ability to be a dad, and actively petitioned to have Chris taken from him to be raised by them in 315. It amazes me every time anew just how much Buddie are compatible, because their stories parallel so much that they can understand each other in ways most other people can’t. ~~

And it gets to me that this whole episode also insists on reminding us how good Buck is with kids, first with the ones on the beach, calming them down and answering their questions to help them make sense of the whole ordeal. Then with Ely’s baby, a callback to how we saw him with the pipe baby in 101. It connects to him looking at the baby sonogram, all excited, once again acting so much like an expectant dad would (parallel to him and the firefighter onesie in 609), when we know he’s not actually going to be that baby’s father. It very much does feel like 911 is signaling to us Buck has some realizations coming his way in this context. ~~

Speaking of the kids on the beach, Buck telling the boy he wants to fix everything, then adding that Buck gets it, had me screaming into my fists, because hey, remember who said that to Buck? That’s right, his Eddie, back in 504. A reminder of how much Eddie sees Buck, accepts him and allows him to be himself, enabling Buck in turn to reflect that back to that kid. Of course, in the context of the sperm donation, Buck’s tendency made him want to help “fix” things for Connor and Kameron, and we might learn in 6b that Buck comes to realize he sometimes lets this tendency take him to places that aren’t actually good for him, without fully considering the consequences, and then hopefully, he’ll get to find a way to balance this, to be himself, but not derailed from his life goals by this part of himself. ~~

At the same time that the ep shows us how good Buck is with kids, it also serves to remind us of the one kid that we’ve seen him co-parent all along, the one who has always demonstrated what a good, loving dad Buck is, Christopher. Yes, when we see Buck working on his cooking with Bobby, it’s a part of the many parallels revolving around dads in this ep, so Buck and Bobby’s r/s is the immediate focus, but at the same time, we know who Buck is learning this FOR. Lazania kitchen scene from 601, anyone? Oh, but the best part? It’s when Buck tells Bobby, “Something’s missing.” He can’t quite put the finger on what, but he knows something in his domesticity isn’t fully there. I wonder what, Buck... And this is again in an ep full of foreshadowing! ~~

It may seem like a minor thing, but remember how in my past meta, I was more or less losing it over the many times Buck and Eddie did rope rescues together as their own team within the 118 team, even having their assigned roles where Eddie connects Buck to the line and then becomes an anchor himself to keep Buck safe, to the point where I wrote a smut fic involving this very meaningful act? Yeah, so imagine me seeing that the most intense Buddie call we’ve had since the end of 413 starts with them doing this subtextually intimate thing, Eddie hooking Buck up to the rope, becoming his literal life line, and even teasingly calling him “cowboy” while at it. No, I was not breathing for a full minute at least. ~~

But since I brought up the shooting in 413, can we talk about the insanity of the parallels? Take the meaningful staring once disaster strikes. Back in s4, it was mutual, right before Eddie collapsed. In 610, Buck is unconscious, so you wouldn’t think they could stare at each other at this moment, right? Plus, back in 413, it was just the two of them present at the scene out of the 118, the other members of the team weren’t there. The lightning strike seems a lot less intimate in comparison... But in this ep, the camera plays a role in recreating that same dynamic, singling out the connection between Buddie. Because when Buck is hit by lightning, we get shots of every 118 member looking up and being terrified of what just happened to their friend.

The only exception in terms of this shot? Eddie. He’s the only one that isn’t being filmed from the side as he looks up, he’s filmed from above as he looks straight into the camera. Essentially, the shot recreates Buck’s POV for Eddie, and for him alone. It shows us what Buck would see and how he would stare down, back at Eddie, if he only could. The fact that the camera has to do this instead of Buck himself further emphasizes the horror of Buck being unconscious, but the choice to do this only with Eddie highlights their connection and makes it clear that Buddie’s bond IS different to what the other team members have with Buck, no matter how close the others are to him or how much they love him. What’s insane is that DESPITE having all of the 118 there, there is still a bubble within this whole situation that is Buddie and Buddie’s alone, even as Buck himself is unconscious. It’s no wonder Eddie jumps up that electrocuted ladder without even thinking about it, it’s no wonder no one even tries to stop him or warn him of the danger in that. That is a man on a mission to save the other half of him, and the show tells us that in more than one way.

That’s gonna continue through Eddie’s attempts (and eventual success) in getting Buck away from immediate danger, as well as when the team tries but then fails to revive Buck, because Eddie will be the one to push past Bobby to see Buck, and Eddie will be the one Bobby has to keep in line by assigning him driving duty, maybe the most important thing anyone can do for Buck once all the medical assistance they can give him in the field is of no further use. ~~

One more thing regarding the comparison with the shooting arc in s4, as well as talking about camera shots, is that we get to see the difference between a platonic friend resuscitating his teammate and a man desperately trying to keep the love of his life alive. If you look at Chim doing compressions on Buck, he’s giving it his all, because he DOES love Buck, Chim’s doing his best for his friend and brother in law. But the shot is not an intimate one, we don’t get close ups, we don’t get to focus on the eyes and see the frantic look of a man who knows he CAN’T fail, we don’t see the intimate touch of a hand laying a gauze on an exposed chest and trying to keep this treasured body together, we do get “come on, Buck,” but we don’t get personal speech, begging the other man to hold on and just “stay with me.” While back in 414, in the ambulance, we had ALL of those as Buck, almost on the verge of losing his sanity, fought for Eddie’s life. ~~

Lastly, I’ve made in the past a gifset of times when we’ve seen Buck screaming Eddie’s name in horror at the face of danger (including in 413), and I love that we can finally add to that Eddie doing the same thing for Buck. But I think it’s particularly meaningful that it happened not as a matter of when Buck would be in danger, but rather it was a question of just how significant Buck had to become to Eddie for this former, highly decorated soldier to go from the stoic man he was in 218 to what we see in 610 (as seen in my latest weekly gifset). Because Eddie WAS incredibly worried back in the s2 finale. He was gritting his teeth, you can see the tension on his face, and the second it was safe, he sprang to Buck’s side. Eddie also held on to him while everyone else was lifting the truck (even though Chim, as a medic, would have been a more natural choice to hold on to Buck, while Eddie the firefighter helps lift engine 118). And Eddie wouldn’t even let go of Buck’s hand on the way to the truck. HE WAS DISTRAUGHT. But the man who kept his facade up in the hospital after Shannon, his wife and mother of his son, died just one ep earlier, did the same thing with Buck. What I find so telling is that he can no longer do that by 610. Buck has become such an integral part of his life, of his family, of who Eddie is as a person and how he deals with life, way more than even Shannon managed to be. And that’s why Eddie loses it, confirming what we’ve known for a while: Buddie are life partners. ~~

I now have direct links to my weekly meta posts, my Buddie gifs and more of my content in my pinned post. Loads of love to @whosoldherout​​ for making unbelievable gifs for my very unique requests. You’re a star! Tag list will follow in the reblog. Thank you in advance for any reblog and like! I’m operating on 1.5 hours of sleep to get this posted ASAP, so I really appreciate any and all encouragement to keep doing this. xoxox

#buddie #911meta #buddie meta #911 meta #9-1-1 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #wm #christopher diaz #911 #buddieedit #buddie gifs #911edit #911gifs #911 gifs #911 spoilers #911onabc #911 on abc #911abc #911 abc

[monzabee]

a not so meet cute – cl16

paper rings, prologue(?)

masterlist || series masterlist ||

Summary: The one where Charles meets his neighbour, who quickly captures his attention.

Pairing: charles leclerc x reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: none other than charles being charles, also might have some cursing, google translate french

Request: “Hii if you’re taking requests could you please write a fic for Charles where he’s your best friend and he asks you to fake date him because he think he likes another girl so he wants to make her notice him/make her jealous kind of thing and you agree even though you love him and during the fake dating he realises that he loves you too and yeah angst fluff and all but a happy ending .If you decide to write this tysm and incase you don’t feel like writing this that’s cool too thanks either way ❤️”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! although i am still working on the first chapter of this new series, i wanted to write a little something for you guys to introduce you to the world i had in mind! i know it was not on the wip schedule, but the inspiration struck so i decided to go with it. ever since i saw the wedding pictures of margaret qualley and jack antonoff, the only thing i've been thinking of was the song, and i though it was the perfect song for the characters i had in mind. so, welcome to the new series, inspired by the request above, so thank you for the anon who put the idea in my mind to create this whole series, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

August, 2017

He met Margaret on our rooftop, she was wearing white And he was like, "I might be in trouble"

Charles loves his country, he really does. He’s always been patriotic of some sorts, he supposes. But the one thing he absolutely loathes about Monaco? The heat, no questions asked. The worst part isn’t even the heat itself, per se, it is the fact that his apartment has no elevator and he has to walk up five stories just to make it to his apartment – in the heat. So yeah, even though he is as patriotic of a Monégasque as they come, he definitely wishes he was somewhere else at the moment. When he does make to his floor, however, he’s met with a rather peculiar view, where his new neighbour is yelling at someone on the phone.

“No, I said I wanted the granite counters,” the person specify, fingers clutching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “No!” The man straight up yells, “Ceux en granit, connard, pas ceux en graphite. I don’t think they even come in graphite!”

Deciding to remain silent as he makes his way towards his own apartment, Charles ignores the man standing in front of the apartment opposite of his. Though, he realises that the apartment’s door is open and there is construction going on inside, which explains the drilling sounds he’s been hearing early in the morning and the smell of fresh paint that never seems to leave the shared floor.

Side-eyeing the whole ordeal, he manages to make it to his apartment without attracting the attention of the man – or so he thinks. Just as he’s about to unlock his front door, he feels a pat on his shoulder. As he turns towards the man, there is a curious look on his face, “Hi?”

“Hello,” the man greets, “do you know how i can contact the superintendent?”

For reasons unknown (extreme hangover), Charles’ brain decides to blank out, “Quoi?”

“Le commissaire,” the man clarifies, “savez-vous comment je peux les contacter?” And Charles realises he would have been impressed with the man’s accent if he wasn’t so hangover from the night before. The superintendent, do you know how I can contact them?

“Ah,” Charles nods in understanding, “sure, let me give you his number.”

After the man saves the number he gives to his phone, he extends his hand in a friendly greeting. “I owe you one, I’m Declan, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Charles,” he responds with, what he hopes to be, a friendly smile. Motioning the apartment behind them, he asks, “Are you my new neighbour?”

“Oh, no, no,” Declan laughs, and it’s a warm, almost infectious laugh. It reminds Charles of– well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Declan’s voice draws him back to the conversation, “My sister is, I’m renovating it for her.”

Charles nods in understanding, “Ah, I see. I’ve never seen her around, I don’t think.”

“Well that’d be because she’s as annoying as little sisters come,” Declan laughs again, and this time it manages to get a smile out of Charles. “You know what? We’re actually having a small party at my place tonight, why don’t you come?”

“You’ve just met me,” Charles points out, voicing his confusion, “you really want to invite me to your house?”

“Pish posh,” Declan waves him off, already starting to walk back to his sister’s apartment “I’ll send you the details, bring alcohol!”

Charles tries to come up with excuses to give Declan when he’s a no show at the party, but all the excused he come up with sounding either shitty, entitled or just a mess in general. So he convinces himself to get ready after a much needed shower, and remembers to pick up a bottle of tequila on his way to the address Declan texted him earlier that day. Considering the amount of cars parked in front of the apartment complex, Charles thinks whether it’s going to be a ‘small’ party as Declan put earlier, but he manages to find a place to park his car, nonetheless. Surprisingly, it’s not hard to find which apartment belongs to his new ‘friend’, as the people he seems to keep literally bumping into give him directions which lead him to the top floor – he thinks, like brother like sister, huh?

“Ah, bienvenu, Charles!” Declan greets him as he enters the apartment, filled with more people than he honestly expected; but hey, they are in Monte Carlo after all.

Because he was raised by his mother, Charles replies, “Merci de me recevoir,” but because he is Charles, he finds himself reverting easily to French. Of course, he soon realises that his new friend has no trouble understanding him.

“Of course, ma maison est ta maison.” With a wide smile that reaches his eyes, he takes the bottle Charles offer him and pats his shoulder in a friendly manner, “Good lad, let me put this in the kitchen and we’ll find my sister together. I suppose she’s here somewhere.”

Giving him a firm nod, Charles is suddenly left alone to gaze around the living area. He quickly realises that he’s not the only one who is particularly patriotic as he comes face to face with the Union Jack on the wall, proudly displayed on the wall, seems to tell a story of cultural connections and a home away from home. He’s also, somehow, met with a very eccentric group of people, who seem to be insistent on having him join their various conversation – which he does his best to partake in.

As he chats with a group of fellow partygoers, he notices Declan making his way through the crowd toward him. “Charles,” he says with an apologetic smile, “sorry for that, let’s go.”

As they move through the apartment, Charles catches glimpses of the décor, which can only be described as eclectic, but what he realises that Declan made sure to fill up his walls with all kinds of memories; from photographs of what Charles thinks is his family to his diplomas, to even famous artwork – he’s not sure whether the Warhol he just passed by is real or not, but he supposes it’s probably the first option. They arrive at a corner of the rooftop terrace where a cozy seating area is arranged. A few guests are engaged in animated discussions, while others lounge comfortably, enjoying the ambiance. However, it doesn’t take either him or Declan to realise that his sister is, in fact, not with the group.

Though, it doesn’t take the latter to spot his sister, mumbling with a wince under his breath, and when Charles follows Declan's gaze to find her engaged in a rather animated discussion with a man who looks both frustrated and slightly bewildered by her. “Poor guy.”

“Seems like she's keeping him entertained.” Charles offer, careful with his words, and also quite confused at the man’s reactions to whatever Declan’s sister seems to be saying.

“Eh, sisters.” Declan shrugs, and motions Charles to follow him.

As they approach their corner of the terrace, her voice becomes clearer, and Charles can overhear snippets of the conversation. “I just don’t understand why we can’t print more money,” she says in an airy voice.

The man she's speaking to rubs his temples, clearly grappling with how to respond. “Well, it's not that simple. Printing more money can lead to inflation and devalue the currency.” He takes a moment to think, then, “Think of it like shoes–”

“Okay,” Declan laughs nervously as he places himself between the two, turning to the other man with a kind smile, “I think we’re done here, mate, she’s playing you. She’s an econ major, sorry for that.” Though Charles can’t see the expression on her face, he imagines there’s some sort of a victorious smile as she waves the man away, “Stop emasculating my friends, please.”

“Well choose better friends, and I won’t,” she shrugs, following his brother’s movements as he makes his way back near Charles, she turns towards him as the white dress she’s wearing sways gently in the evening breeze. There’s a surprised look on her face when she realises and they are not alone, “Um, hi.”

With a playful grin, Declan points to Charles and turns to his sister, “This is Charles, your new neighbour, and Charles, this is my sister–”

Bambi.

It’s the only word that comes to Charles’ mind when he sees your eyes and a friendly smile you give to him, “Nice to meet you, Charles.”

His eyes fall down to your extended hand, and he scrambles to regain his composure, taking your hand and shaking it gently. “Uh, yes, nice to meet you too.”

With an unexpected clap from your brother, which has both you and Charles jumping slightly, you turn to him with a glare, “Well, now that you know each other, I’ll leave you to get acquainted. And you,” he points to you which elicits a raised eyebrow from you, “don’t scare him off, and for God’s sake change this music.”

“What’s wrong with ABBA?” You ask with a small pout already forming on your lips.

“We need a change,” Charles watches with a silent chuckle as Declan starts walking back towards the kitchen, “ergo, change it!”

“Well that was an interesting exit,” you mumble, eyes following your brother until he’s out of both your and Charles’ views. Afterwards, you turn your attention back to the man standing in front of you, “What do you think about The Smiths?”

“Who?” Charles asks you, confusion written on his face.

“Not The Who,” you nudge him slightly, chuckling softly, though your laughter dies down once you realise he’s really confused. “I– The Smiths, Charles! To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die,” you softly sing, but he replies with a small shake of his head, and a shrug. “Oh, I love The Smiths! Come on, you have a lot to learn.”

As you grab him by his wrist to guide him back inside the apartment, I might be in trouble, he thinks to himself. And then, you turn around to give him a full smile, with a glint of mischief in your eyes that he can't quite interpret, and say, “I can already feel that we are going to be very good friends.”

And then he knows, he’s definitely in trouble.

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fluff

[animeyanderelover]

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, clinginess, stalking, overprotective behavior, manipulation, isolation, abduction, death

Tags: @lovley-valentine7 @leveyani @chxxz

Serial Killer s/o

Sebastian Michaelis

🐈‍⬛​Ciel has been called into active duty by the Queen due to a series of incidents that have been going on for a few months now where different murder happened. The victims have all been nobility and all of them were murdered in open space by a shot through the head. A sniper of extraordinary talent must have done all of it, someone who almost rivals Mey-Rin in skills in that from what Sebastian has been able to detect by examining the corpse. All of this must stop at once and Ciel decides to lure the serial killer out as he is within their target group as he challenges them via newspaper. He leaves his mansion, accompanied by Sebastian, in hopes of them taking the bait yet nothing seems to happen. Instead another two victims are killed and Sebastian muses that the killer must have been smart enough to realise that Ciel had something planned, although he doesn't mention it when he sees his young master silently seething, humiliated that he was ignored.

🐈‍⬛​Sebastian himself feels quite indifferent about the whole ordeal. Humans have always killed each other as they are feeble and incompetent creatures. He only is doing his work because of the contract he has with Ciel. His feelings change significantly when one night the sniper decides to target Ciel at night in his own mansion and it is Sebastian's inhuman senses that save Ciel that night as he races through the corridors to stop the bullet from hitting its target. Ciel, despite having just woken up, instantly analyses the situation and orders Sebastian to go after them. A small devilish smile, a polite bow and in the next moment the butler is gone. He is shot a few times but senses soon that the killer has realised that bullets don't work on him and has opted to flee instead. As if that would work. Whether they survive or not is of no concern, especially not for him. At least until he closes in on them and is suddenly surrounded by the sweetest scent he has ever taken in.

🐈‍⬛​The scent throws him out of composure, something you instantly notice as you shoot one more time, this time in his face. In that moment where his senses are overwhelmed, it catches him off-guard as he falls over. You naively assume that you killed him finally as you flee but not even seconds later you are grabbed and pinned to the ground, the same man you just shot in the face looking down at you with glowing eyes and not a single imperfection on his skin. You look at him in disbelief and horror whilst Sebastian takes away the rifle you tightly clutch in your hands, throwing the weapon carelessly away as his eyes never leave yours. He feels shivers going up and down his spine as he feels your racing heartbeat, his body pressing itself closer to you to relish in your warmth and the shape of your own body against his. One of his gloved hands caresses your face, magenta eyes engraving your facial features into every layer of his mind and soul. His mate. You are his mate.

🐈‍⬛​Ciel has made him promise to never lie to him and to obey his every demand yet for the first time Sebastian goes against the contract as he refuses to hand you over to the police. He doesn't expect a human, even if this human is his current master, to understand just how rare and significant a mating bond is to a demon like him. Ciel is quite shocked to see his servant acting like this as he has never been attached to anyone before yet here he is, holding the culprit and pressing them against his body like they are his saving line. You yourself look confused and scared all at the same time as you try to squirm away from the demon's hold. Yet Ciel has no choice ultimately as he has to cover the story up and Sebastian participates as Ciel allows him to do whatever he wants with you. You may be terrified now, kitten, but fear not. Your days of living in poverty and killing to steal and survive are over. You just have to give yourself to him.

William T. Spears

​📒​His work schedule has recently increased by a lot as an arsonist has recently started inflicting terror onto the public of London. Almost a dozen of houses have been burnt with victims either dead or wounded, especially at night. Police security has tightened and whilst the incidents have decreased a bit, they still happen in different areas of the town. It is so much work for him and he silently wishes the culprit to accidentally burn themselves at one point, especially when he sees all the name who will be made victims in the future. Whilst William doesn't see it as his job to catch the arsonist himself, he decides to still take a look and find out who is behind all of this. He searches for one of the next victims who will die and then waits for the culprit to show up. Eventually he catches you sneaking up on the house, a weird device in your hand that you throw into one of the windows, shattering it in the process. There is commotion inside the house before an explosion occurs and in the next moment the house is burning.

​📒​He has never seen this before and decides to follow you as he sees you disappearing into the shadows and streets of the city. You live in a house on the outskirts on the city, a scrapyard not far away from you. So this is where the troublemaker lives. Now that he knows where you live, William just opts on following you from that moment on whenever you go out to commit the next crime. He notices that you often bring with you a small device that he can't identify yet it seems to be the main reason why the house bursts into flames in the first place. He knows that you spend a lot of time rummaging through the scrapyard, probably searching for suitable parts to build this bomb. As much as you give him trouble, a part of the grim reaper is impressed that you can build something like this from garbage. One day when you are out of your house, he can't help his curiosity as he takes a look inside your house. He has never met a person who has such a messy house yet such a clean workspace.

​📒​You are terrified when you return but find the entire house cleaned somehow yet soon you figure out that nothing has been stolen. It has just been cleaned... Believe him, William wasn't anticipating to suddenly play the cleaner for you but he just could not help himself. He just had to tidy up your place because god knows how you manage to survive in there. Maybe, just maybe he was mildly concerned for your wellbeing as you clearly don't care for hygiene or basic order in your daily life unless it involves work. At least you are passionate about your work as you have made detailed plans on the constructions on those bombs. William has made a theory that you are a rejected engineer and scientist who is trying to accomplish the creation no one believed you could finish. Perhaps your low status plays another part yet instead of dejection you seem to be even more determined. A part of him respects it but not only do you risk getting caught but you put your work over your own health often.

​📒​His fears soon turn into reality when you are spotted by the police when lighting up another house. You flee through all the side streets but soon meet a dead end. Behind you, you hear the cops coming closer yet before they arrive, a figure suddenly appears behind you. A man in a neat suit and glasses who swiftly knocks you out. The last thing you recognise is the feeling of being lifted up before your consciousness fades away. That sudden abduction unlocks a completely new life for you. William absolutely forbids you from building a bomb in the house he purchased weeks before he abducted you as he had plans long before you had to be so careless. You may still read books about the topic but you will not create something that will ruin the house. As he knows that you are not the best when it comes to leading a good life besides when it involves work, he also takes over your schedule completely. The house is kept clean, you receive nutritious and healthy food and he makes sure that you get the needed amount of sleep every night.

Ash Landers

​▫️​The Queen has been receiving a lot of news from a new serial killer who has appeared in London yet this one seems to be a strange one. It has been reported that all of the victims have been known for treating spouses and childred badly, for abusing and for being con artists who deceived people of their hard earned money. A true criminal for justice by all accounts yet Ash, who is the one reviewing all of those reports and telling the Queen what to do, still views it all with disgust. There is no single good soul in this city after all and whilst he doesn't care about the scum who died because of the new serial killer, that won't save them from the judgement that he will cast on the city as soon as all of the needed preparations are completed. He has been plotting and planning for so long now, his goal is in sight already. Really, this silly human is just wasting their time. If they are trying to achieve a better world by killing of the other scum, it is for naught. Only a cleansing of the entire city will save it.

​​▫️​Yet through a sheer twist of fate one day you pass him without any knowledge of how lunatic and inhuman he really is. It is nothing special for you as you are trailing someone who is your current target but Ash pauses on the busy streets, his head snapping around as his eyes drill into your form. What a beautiful presence... What a clean aura... He has never felt something like this before. Entranced the angel decides to follow you around as well, enraptured with such a clean and beautiful being as you are. What is someone like you doing between such a vulgar crowd? What if they defile you? Suddenly there is a pressure he is feeling, his eyes nervously darting around as he scans all the people who are around you. None of them could even compare to you so why do you go outside? Your presence can't save those sinners anymore. Oh, how benevolent you are for still gracing them with your presence despite their ignorance of your true greatness. You truly are too precious for this world.

​▫️​Then he sees it though. How you walk up to someone who has an especially rotten presence around them. A smile on your face as you talk with them and Ash feels his hands twitch as you touch them slightly. You shouldn't even breathe the same air as them. With slick words and touches, you manage to seduce them enough to have them follow you as you lure them away from the busy streets. Ash instantly goes after you two as all of his alarm bells go off. You mustn't be left alone in a stained presence such as theirs. They will ruin you. He follows you all the way, his hand already on the grip of his sword to behead them if they do anything to you yet there is no need for that as suddenly you pull out a knife and slit their throat in one swift motion. The body hits the ground as they spend a while choking on their own blood and looking at you in horror before all life leaves their eyes. You mutter a silent prayer as a ray of light hits you as you pray for their soul to eventually be redeemed after paying for their sins.

​▫️​That's when you notice Ash appearing around the corner and you are visibly startled as you lift your knife threateningly. Yet in his eyes you only see awe and admiration as he looks at the dead body and then you. He clasps his hands over his heart as a singsong of praise and worship leaves his lips. How truly kind of you to pray for their forgiveness despite their sins. How thoughtful of you to end their pathetic and miserable life. You truly are a pure and special human. You find yourself disturbed by his words to the point where you don't even attack. Something is terribly off about this guy. He begs you to allow him to protect you, to assist you in your task of ridding this town of all the people who have ruined it. You are helpless in the face of an actual angel, one who is smitten with you to the point of a deadly obsession and offers to kill for you so that you won't have to mingle with those who he deems to not be worthy of your time and presence as you spend your time forever trapped and isolated under his care.

Claude Faustus

🕷️Whilst his master can rest perfectly safe in the mansion, the town surrounding it is living in terror as recently a lot of people have mysteriously disappeared only to be found days later with stitches all over their bodies, their hearts always missing. Not that this concerns Alois much who is aware that no one can do this to him for he has Claude by his side. Claude himself is very much disinterested in all those incidents as he holds a general dislike for the common crowd with no splendid souls to sense anywhere. He plans to finish his contract with Alois to get his hands on the young boy's soul in order to consume it and after that he will vanish. Nothing about this village will be memorable to him as everyone is crude and forgettable. That is just how a demon lives as they are mostly very detached creatures who only cater to their own needs without consideration for those who do not know of their existence. One day he will probably make another contract with another person only to continue the cycle.

🕷️​Then one day it happens though as he is in the town to buy some groceries for the next meal of his young highness. It truly isn't a special day but he can't remember that any day has ever been special ever since he became the butler of the Trancy boy. Yet it is on that day that he picks up a scent that has all of his senses and his head spinning as it invades his mind. Something primal awakes within him as he breathes in as much of the aroma as he can before his golden eyes start darting over all of the people around him as he needs to know the source of this scent. Eventually he locates the person the scent comes from, his eyes glued to your back as his legs start moving on their own accord. It's almost like the aroma has a gravity that pulls him to you and before he knows it, one of his gloved hands reaches out and grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. When you turn around and he sees your startled and confused face, he suddenly snaps out of his trance and swiftlx apologises to you. What just came over him?

🕷️​Unable to forget about you, Claude spends days silently agonising over the distance as he hasn't seen you since that day. He doesn't want his master to find out as he knowd that Alois would throw a fit which is the last thing that he needs right now yet his temper is clearly more agitated. A lot of excuses are used to leave the mansion in hopes that he will find you again but there is no sight of you detected until eventually he decides to leave the mansion at night after Alois has fallen asleep. Hannah is ordered to take care of the boy if he should wake up whilst Claude leaves at night when most people are already asleep. Finally he can use all of his abilities without a time limit and indeed is he now able to track you down after a while. He easily breaks into your house, a prominent smell of blood in the air together with the sound of prayers in an ancient language coming from the basement of the house. It isn't your blood though which is why Claude isn't worried as he follows the stairs down.

🕷️​He finds you in the middle of a ritual you are performing and it is then that he finally realises that you are the person who is responsible for all of the murders that have recently happened. He has seen those rituals before, they are generally used to summon his kind yet it is obvious to him that your soul is much more splended then the soul of the person you are offering. You aren't even aware of the worth of your own soul, are you? In either case, he can't have you summoning another demon who might make a contract with you. The candlelight suddenly vanishes as only darkness surrounds you and your heartbeat increases in fear and excitement. Maybe it has finally worked. Suddenly a hand clasps over your mouth and when you manage to look up, you see glowing eyes within the darkness who look at you with greed and desire. If your wish was to meet a real demon you shouldn't have gone through all of this trouble. You have one right next to you after all who doesn't want any of the sacrifices you have abducted and kiled. You are more than enough.

Hannah Annafellows

🟣​Sometimes humans can be more savage and demonic than what people call her own kind at times. Hannah can confirm that once more when the newspaper starts reporting that a new serial killer has appeared in town who butchers their victims like some do animals. Heads, guts and limbs are found spread in the sewerage or are sometimes delivered directly to the house of neighbours or friends of the victim. Waves of horror and fear take hold of the citizens as the murder has taken nearly a dozen lives already and their kill count only increases as weeks pass by yet the police is unable to catch them. Hannah has only passive feelings about the whole case though as she doesn't have to care about what happens outside of the Trancy mansion. She has sworn loyalty to Alois despite not even having a contract with him and she spends her time fulfilling her tasks for him despite all of the abuse he puts her through. The life of other people are not important to her.

🟣​She meets you in town during your workshift as you sell vegetables and fruits on the market. Hannah is immediately drawn to your soul and when she appears in front of you, you appear to be drawn to her too as her gorgeous looks take your breath away. You appear enraptured with her from the very first moment you meet her and Hannah uses that to her advantage a lot as she gets closer to you. She has pinpointed fairly quickly that her attraction and attachment she feels is because you are her mate as your soul calls out to her all of the time. She starts spending a lot more time with you as she isn't very much the center of attention to Alois who is mostly focused on Claude. Whilst she doesn't abandon the boy and still does her tasks dutifully, as soon as those are done she tells the triplets to take over everything else whilst she is heading out to meet with you again. She feels peace when she is with you yet she knows. You are hiding something.

🟣​A stench of blood seems to surround you even if the scent is very subtle and a shadow is lying over your soul as if theire is guilt that is shackled to your very being. Your lips are sealed though as you only give her a misleading smile whenever she tries subtly to find out what it is that fills you with such guilt. That smile could fool everyone but Hannah isn't a human. There is a secret you keep from her, most likely because your shame is too much for you to tell others about it. Do you not trust her enough? You should be able to give your everything to her without any fear as you may not be aware of it yet but both of you are bound together by fate. Hannah decides to take matters into her own hands after a while of failing to convince you. That is how she catches you in the middle of another crime, an axe in your hand and your body covered in blood as you are in the middle of dismembering another person. You break out in tears when you see her as you didn't want her to know about this.

🟣​It is a sick and perverse impulse that comes spontanously over you at times, a desire to dismember and murder someone. You don't know where it came from but the fascination has been always there even when you were only a child. You shudder to think what you will have to do with Hannah now that she has found out your secret but it never gets that far because you never get the chance to attack her. Instead her demonic powers overwhelm you instantly and the next time you wake up, you are stuck in a dark room, your hands tied up. Hannah still loves you despite finding out that you are the serial killer who has been butchering their victims but she expects some modesty from you. You should at least be able to control your twisted fantasies more instead of being a slave to them and fulfilling them without any self-control. As long as you haven't learned that though, she can't let you roam freely. You may think of her as a monster now but she only has the best in mind for you.

#yandere black butler #yandere kuroshitsuji #yandere sebastian #yandere sebastian michaelis #yandere william #yandere william t. spears #yandere ash #yandere ash landers #yandere claude #yandere claude faustus #yandere hannah #yandere hannah annafellows

[hush-writes-preg]

Spooky Season Day #7

'Become an adventurer,' they'd said.

'You'll never have an empty purse or bed again,' they'd said.

Why in all the hells had you, the latest in an endless line of farmers, listened to them?

The hot summer sun beat down on your dirty, sweat-streaked skin, making every one of your listless steps feel like ten. The sword and leather pack strapped to your back weighed nothing compared to the massive, bloated dome of your gut, a feature that you hadn't sported only a few hours prior. Each step left the taut flesh jiggling, while its contents continued to shift and gurgle beneath your skin.

Everybody knew that slimes were practically harmless, their semi-transparent bodies like soft, moist jelly as they bounced their way through the dank caverns they called home. Hardly even worth a thought when prowling through the caves in search of deadlier prey.

The mischievous kobolds you'd been sent to clear out, however, who'd been helping themselves to nearby livestock, had been another story entirely. Especially when encountered in groups, where they'd turned out to be a bit more scrappy than you'd anticipated. You'd quickly found yourself outnumbered and overwhelmed, and sometime during the fight, you'd taken a blow to the head and passed right out.

That's when you'd accidently discovered a whole other side to the slimes.

Apparently the slimes were attracted to warmth, and your big, freshly exercised body made plenty of it after the kobolds ran off. The little creatures had swarmed closer and closer while you lay unconscious, and since you'd been unable to fend them off, they got *quite* close indeed.

It wasn't until you groggily came to that you realized what they'd been up to.

Dazed and confused, you weren't initially sure what to make of the pressure wriggling against your hole. You could only lay there moaning as something opened you up and pushed inside, your body closing around it before the next intrusion began. But as weird as it was, the faint jolts of pleasure they caused left you even more confused.

Finally you got enough of your wits about you to crawl out of the cave on your hands and knees, the unknown sensations continuing until you managed to emerge into the light. There, you shoved a hand between your legs to grab at the latest assailant. The slick jelly oozed between your nerveless fingers and back between your legs with uncanny speed, leaving you to suck in a sharp breath as it buried itself inside of you.

As weird as it was, you'd tried to ignore it in favor of getting back to safety. Obviously you'd overestimated your abilities. You could deal with your unexpected passenger later.

Only you hadn't gone more than a quarter of a mile when your belly had started to swell.

Now you're huge, and even a simple peasant like you could understand that your ordeal had something to do with the slimes. You just pray you can find help before something else happens.

(A Spooky Season story.)

#hush writes preg #spooky season pregnancy #hush's writing prompts #monster fucking #monsterfucker #monster kink #trans pregnancy #tpreg #male pregnancy #mpreg #nb pregnancy #ftm pregnancy #mtf pregnancy #queer pregnancy #fantasy pregnancy #slime pregnancy #monster pregnancy #nonhuman pregnancy

[missholland]

Farewell, a place once called home!

I was homebound this week for an illness recovery, and thought it was the perfect time to rewatch one of my ultimate comfort shows: The Untamed.

Some people watch stuff once. Some people religiously rewatch their favs because they discover something new each time. I'm certainly part of the latter clan, and I cannot believe I never wrote about Wei Wuxian (WWX)'s post-resurrection return to Lotus Pier before.

The second half of episode 45 throughout episode 46 is quite a journey on its own right: the setting, the aesthetics, the dialogue, the emotional weight as one of the biggest secrets finally came to surface.

A very long rambling analysis ahead so bear with me!

Considering the latter half of episode 45 was mostly consumed with Si Si and Bi Cao exposing Jin Guangyao (JGY)'s dark past, there were only a couple of Lotus Pier moments that worth mentioning.

As WWX and Lan Wangji (LWJ) walked through the entrance of Lotus Pier, I was immediately taken back to what WWX said to LWJ in episode 6 when they were healing their injuries in the Cold Spring. WWX asked LWJ to come visit him in Lotus Pier one day, and I bet the circumstance they eventually found themselves in episode 45 was far from what WWX thought the visit would have been like.

Let's also take another step back to episode 34, where Jiang Cheng (JC) interrogated WWX. WWX admitted that he wanted to go back to Lotus Pier even in his dream, but at the time, he had probably given up all hopes of ever making that come true.

What else is there? His master and madam died, his disciple elder sister Yanli died, he got expelled from his own clan. It was virtually impossible to prepare WWX for the event of episode 45 where he actually got to walk into Lotus Pier again.

Let's now cruise into the main event - episode 46! Fed up with how the big clan meeting went following the revelation of JGY's wrongdoings, WWX and LWJ stepped away from the front room and made their way around Lotus Pier. They were likely just wandering around at the time, as their concentration was totally occupied with finding out who might be the mastermind trying to expose JGY. Then again, it might as well be WWX's muscle memory as they somehow ended up right in front of the ancestral hall.

Despite initial hesitation, WWX eventually decided to come in and paid respect to his Master, Madam and Yanli along with LWJ. It's not the first time we saw this incredibly tranquil and beautiful room. It really was WWX's most frequently visited room, whether it was being punished by Madam Yu (story apparently travelled all the way to Gusu) or having heartfelt conversation with Yanli. WWX telling LWJ his childhood stories inside the ancestral hall was probably the most mundane sequence during this whole ordeal, and a small moment of normality for WWX before our resident killjoy JC walked in.

Yes JC, we know it's your house but surely yelling in the middle of the ancestral hall whether your family was resting in peace isn't a very good idea? Our WWX certainly didn't expect any less from all the unpleasantness coming out of JC's mouth, as since forever he only let his anger do the speaking and not the common sense. LWJ was ready to have a showdown, but WWX calmly told him to stand down and let it go.

But did JC let it go too? Of course not. He was irritated by WWX's calmness and tried to spill some more frustration to get the other to react. He clearly picked the right route to go down on by picking on LWJ and Wen Ning (WN). Worse, he proceeded to single out LWJ and insulted his commitment to WWX.

That prompted WWX to yell out JC's courtesy name Jiang Wanyin, a name we didn't hear very often throughout the show but in this instance it was most memorable, especially coming from WWX. That itself drew a clear boundary in their relationship at that moment, from brothers to mere acquaintances in the cultivation world.

WWX wasn't afraid to ask a proud JC to apologise, but all JC was gonna do is pushing the button even more. He took a very personal swipe at their confidant/soulmate-ship that led WWX to, quite uncharacteristically, violently held JC's collar.

Our dearest is giving JC what he wants! Although to be perfect honest, I thought it was quite hilarious that JC for whatever reason was confident he could take on both of them. WWX possibly since he wasn't at his finest during that moment, but prime LWJ though...?

Thankfully, WWX looked up and saw Yanli's name. He knew very well it would break Yanli's heart seeing the two of them like this. He's gotta be the bigger person (and fair enough, he's already knackered from being the lure flag for the puppets). As our beloved couple once again tried to leave in peace, JC decided to make it as hard as possible for them. Here he is, triggering LWJ's angry lover protector mode.

I love the swift but determined arm push LWJ did to JC a second after this to get him off WWX, then right away his expression transitioned back into anxious lover worrier mode. LWJ didn't even give JC a second look. He promptly escorted WWX away but was still super alerted to give JC a good old Piss Off for STILL ONCE AGAIN not letting it go.

Let's take a moment to admire this bittersweet yet romantically charged frame before getting the tearfest started.

Now, our sweet baby WN just flew in with WWX's Suibian sword, got a couple of hits from JC's Zidian but was still determined to stand tall and asked JC to unseathe Suibian. JC was angry and confused, LWJ was probably also angry and confused, WWX has fainted, so now WN is the only sane one and the voice of reason. His cold lack of reaction (because he wasn't surprised at all) placing next to a shocked pikachu LWJ and confusingly mortified JC was the perfect comparison.

LWJ's face tells me that as soon as he saw JC taking out Suibian, he was already somewhat fearing the reason behind it. He hasn't quite reached the destination yet, but he was on the way. After all, he's one of the most intelligent and knowledgeable characters in the story thanks to his sect's education. His eyes made it look like he was holding on a tiny glimpse of hope that maybe it's not true, maybe it's not the worst case scenario, but it was certainly mixed with fear that it might be.

It's very different from JC who's just completely out of the loop, no hint of any possibility that he might be able to work out what happened. If WN wasn't there to SPELL IT OUT, JC would just remain angry and confused for the rest of the episode.

As JC is still in deep denial, and WN precisely recounted the event on the mountain in great details where JC was tricked to go find Baoshan Wanderer who could fix his core, LWJ only had eyes on WWX. His ears were listening to everything WN said too, but his focus was on WWX while he did his own reflection on how he reacted to WWX abandoning swordsmanship in the past (the same way JC did).

All the burning questions LWJ had inside his head - why WWX no longer carried Suibian, why he made all these excuses to not get back into practicing swords, why he took on crafty tricks, why he had a change in personality and demeanour, why he behaved so strangely after getting Suibian back - they are finally answered. But in the most unimaginably painful and heartbreaking way. LWJ's trembling face and tears scream PAIN, the pain you feel when you know someone you love is in pain, but you are also aware that whatever you feel is only 1/10000 of their actual suffering.

Pain and anger come together time to time, and LWJ has heard enough. He just wanted to get WWX out of here, out of this hell of a truth. He made his feeling known by stamping Bichen loudly on the ground and took WWX away, once and all.

Our baby WN really shined here. He wrapped up this dreadful revelation by daring JC to find anyone who can unsheathe Suibian, but not before hitting him with possibly the last thing any human being as competitive and eager to win like JC wanted to hear - did you know you were supposed to beneath your disciple older brother forever?

WN kept his head down and let out a sigh. He knew he shouldn't have done it since he promised WWX, but that was as much as he knew he had to do so. His guilt toward WWX was starting to hit him, but it was also obvious that a huge burden has been lifted off his shoulders.

We're now getting to the end of WWX's unexpectedly eventful return to Lotus Pier. Without JC's unreasonable pot-stirring screaming, we're finally given a lovely shot of Lotus lake at night with LWJ ensuring WWX's body not leaving his caring touch. I don't think we've had a proper conversation between LWJ and WN up to this point, and what makes it so special is that it's a genuine exchange between the only 2 people left who deeply care about WWX - a lonely anti-hero who's been walking alone on his deeply misunderstood journey for so long that it lasted through 2 lives.

Sweet WN also thanked LWJ for taking care of A Yuan and we got to learn about how LWJ managed to save A Yuan back then. It was sad but heartwarming knowing that WN was content with not disclosing A Yuan's past to him, as he's had a happy childhood and blessed life thanks to LWJ. Although, he acknowledges that eventually A Yuan would find out, just like JC did about his golden core.

Now as the conversation circled back to the golden core swap, LWJ asked WN a question that truly, you only ask when it's about someone you love. 'Is it painful?'. Not 'How did Wen Qing do it', but was it painful for WWX. What was the feeling he had, what was the pain he suffered, what was it like. It's not a sympathy question. It's something you want to know and empathise when your loved one goes through hard time. It's such a deeply specific and personal question, because when the person you love is in pain, you are too. You even want to feel it too, and LWJ is no stranger to that if we recall him leaving the same burn mark on his left chest as WWX had. Shame that this detail was never explained in the show.

As WN described:

'He should be sober enough to see the golden score which connects to the spiritual vein be separated from his body and feel the spiritual power die down little by little, until it is motionless and nothing can be felt'.

You can feel LWJ's pain peak as he was told WWX remained awake for 2 nights and 1 day with only 50% chance of success. As someone who deep down admires his soulmate's talent from a young age, what could be worse than having to hear that his other half had accepted to be mediocre for the rest of his life and never ascend to the top as he could have easily done?

Poor WWX regained conscious and realised where he was. Unsurprisingly, all of his Lotus Pier memories were tied with Yanli and he's overwhelmed by the image of her and flashback of their time together. What is home to WWX, the one who was trying his hardest to grow lotus somewhere as deadly as Burial Mounds? JC was his family, but not anymore. Yanli is no longer around, but till her death, she remained his family. She might have had married into Jin clan, but she embodied everything about Lotus Pier. Yanli is home. Yanli is Lotus Pier.

Seeing Yanli die at Nightless City was saying goodbye to the last person on earth who cared about WWX (or so he forgot about LWJ), which pushed him to giving up on his own life. So is Lotus Pier still home without Yanli? Is there even home without Yanli? WWX was barely treated like a proper guest at Lotus Pier. He was just someone who knew the way around, as home no longer hold the same meaning as it once did.

Lovely WWX was finally jolly again at the possibility of snacking on some tasty lotus seeds he must have missed dearly. Yet his little happiness was seemingly switched off by the rigid rule follower LWJ. If anything I was surprised that WWX agreed to give up the lotus seeds that quickly, of course not without sulking in disappointment.

But all of this only make the following moment even more glorious and poignant: the high and mighty LWJ who grew up obeying 3000 rules at Gusu Lan Sect literally picked a lotus with his own hand and give it to his soulmate, much to his shock and confusion.

At first I thought Well that's the least LWJ could do, has WWX not suffered enough, would a few (hundreds) lotus seeds matter that much. He's been in pain, he needs to be coddled and spoiled till the end of the world! So LWJ willing to break one tiny rule (tiny, comparing to all the others he broke because of WWX already) is a well deserved comfort that WWX needs.

But then it also hit me - it is an example of making compromise in a healthy relationship. WWX used to hold on to his wine and was willing to put up a fight for it, most of the time against LWJ himself. So why was it so easy to him to just have an awkward chuckle and drop the lotus seeds as LWJ didn't want to break a rule?

WWX compromised, as you would in a partnership. You don't have it your way all the time, you work together toward the same goal and there are times you're willing to put your partner's values above your own benefit. WWX, despite not fully happy about the decision, still agreed to give us the lotus as LWJ was uncomfortable. And in return, LWJ was okay with putting WWX's needs above his ingrained principle about 'stealing'. At the end of the day, it's not about winning or losing in a relationship. You win together and you lose together.

We really are spoiled with lotus romance in this episode!

But maybe... just maybe... LWJ doesn't know whether WWX would ever get a chance to return to Lotus Pier. Should this be the last ever opportunity, he would probably rather WWX's final memory of the visit not being JC's anger and resentment. In return, it is a rare carefree moment on Lotus lake, one his WWX's favourite places, eating lotus seeds with the only 2 people who still care so much about him and willing to go to the end of the world for him.

If this is meant to be a farewell to a place WWX once called home, while LWJ couldn't change the unfortunate circumstance that led to this challenging visit, he at least has done his best to give it a drama-free peaceful ending for the person he loves dearly.

#wei wuxian #wei ying #yiling laozu #yiling patriarch #lan wangji #lan zhan #hanguang jun #yunmeng jiang #wen ning #jiang cheng #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #chen qing ling #cql #suibian #zidian #jiang yanli #episode analysis #wangxian #xiao zhan #wang yibo

[ohsalome]

Ivan and Phoebe by Oksana Lutsyshyna

Ivan and Phoebe is a novel about a revolution of consciousness triggered by very different events, both global and personal. This is a book about the choices we make, even if we decide to just go with the flow of life. It is about cruelty, guilt, love, passion – about many things, and most importantly, about Ukraine of the recent past, despite or because of which it has become what it is today.

The story told in Oksana Lutsyshyna’s novel Ivan and Phoebe is set during a critical period – the 1990s. In the three decades that have passed since gaining independence, Ukraine has experienced many socio-political, economic, and cultural changes that have yet to be fully expressed. The Revolution of Dignity in 2014 marked a pivotal moment in the country’s history, as it signaled a shift towards European integration and a strong desire to distance itself from Moscow. Prior to this, Ukrainian culture had remained overshadowed by Russian influence, struggled to compete for an audience and was consequently constrained in exploring vital issues.

77 days of February. Living and dying in Ukraine

"77 Days," is a compelling anthology by contributors to Reporters, a Ukrainian platform for longform journalism. The book, published in English as both an e-book and an audiobook by Scribe Originals.

"77 Days'' offers a tapestry of styles and experiences from over a dozen contributors, making it a complex work to define. It includes narratives about those who stayed put as the Russians advanced, and the horror they encountered, like Zoya Kramchenko’s defiant "Kherson is Ukraine," Vira Kuryko’s somber "Ten Days in Chernihiv," and Inna Adruh’s wry "I Can’t Leave – I’ve Got Twenty Cats." The collection also explores the ordeal of fleeing, as in Kateryna Babkina’s stark "Surviving Teleportation '' and "There Were Four People There. Only the Mother Survived." 

It also highlights tales of Ukrainians who created safe havens amidst the turmoil, such as Olga Omelyanchuk’s "Hippo and the Team," about zookeepers safeguarding animals in an occupied private zoo near Kyiv, and one of Paplauskaite’s three pieces, "Les Kurbas Theater Military Hostel," depicting an historic Lviv theater turned shelter for the displaced, including the writer/editor herself.

In the Eye of the Storm. Modernism in Ukraine 1900’s – 1930’s

This book was inspired by the exhibition of the same name that took place in Madrid, at the Museo Nacional Thyssen-Bornemisza, and is currently at the Museum Ludwig, located in Cologne, Germany. 

Rather than being a traditional catalogue, the publishers and authors took a more ambitious approach. Rather than merely publishing several texts and works from the exhibition, they choose to showcase the history of the Ukrainian avant-garde in its entirety – from the first avant-garde exhibition in Kyiv to the eventual destruction of works and their relegation to the "special funds" of museums, where they were hidden from public view.

These texts explain Ukrainian context to those who may have just learned about the distinction between Ukrainian and Russian art. Those "similarities" are also a product of colonization. It was achieved not only through the physical elimination of artists or Russification – artists were also often forced to emigrate abroad for political or personal reasons. Under the totalitarian regime, discussing or remembering these artists was forbidden. Archives and cultural property were also destroyed or taken to Russia.

"The Yellow Butterfly" by Oleksandr Shatokhin 

"The Yellow Butterfly" is poised to become another prominent Ukrainian book on the themes of war and hope. It has been listed among the top 100 best picture books of 2023, according to the international art platform dPICTUS.

The book was crafted amidst the ongoing invasion. Oleksandr and his family witnessed columns of occupiers, destroyed buildings, and charred civilian cars. Shatokhin describes the book’s creation as a form of therapy, a way to cope with the horrors. "During this time my vision became clearer about what I wanted to create – a silent book about hope, victory, the transition from darkness to light, something symbolic," he explains.

Although "The Yellow Butterfly" is a wordless book, today its message resonates with readers across the globe.

A Crash Course in Molotov Cocktails by Halyna Kruk

A Crash Course in Molotov Cocktails is a bilingual poetry book (Ukrainian and English) about war, written between 2013 and 2022, based on Halyna’s experience as an author, volunteer, wife of a military man and witness to conflict. 

The Ukrainian-speaking audience is well-acquainted with Halyna Kruk – a poet, prose author and literature historian. Kruk is increasingly active on the international stage, with her poetry featured in numerous anthologies across various languages, including Italian, French, Swedish, Norwegian, Portuguese, Spanish, Polish, English, German, Lithuanian, Georgian and Vietnamese. 

For an English-speaking audience, her poetry unveils a realm of intense and delicate experiences, both in the midst of disaster and in the anticipation of it. The poems are succinct, direct, and highly specific, often depicting real-life events and individuals engaged in combat, mourning, and upholding their right to freedom.

#ukraine #ukrainian stuff #ukrainian literature #books #book recommendation #ukrainian culture

[charlottesuzee]

Monster Trio (Accidentally) Wearing Your Britches (Black!Fem!Reader)

(Slight N S F W but not really, it's just underwear. Only Sanji's is dirty)

Monkey D Luffy

- He doesn't wear underwear anyways, so he pulled them on when he was half asleep, thinking they were his shorts. He didn't even notice how drafty they were.

- Went through the whole morning not noticing. After the crew was finished dying of laughter and shock, they told Luffy that he was wearing your underwear.

- Luffy's only reaction was "Wow, guess I am, huh ?"

- He honestly thinks that they're comfortable. He doesn't care for underwear, but he'll gladly wear them because 1. They're yours and 2. He likes the color and will ask you if he can keep them.

- "Oi, (Y/N), do you think I can keep these ?!?"

- "ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT !

- "Aww, but whyyy ? You have more, dontcha ? You won't miss these !"

- "BUT THEY'RE MINES !"

- "You mean ours now."

- "NO !'

Roronoa Zoro

- It was Usopp's turn to do the laundry and he forgot to separate everyone's clothes, so he just figured that everyone would figure out who's was who's and it'll sort itself out.

- While taking a bath after training, a pair of your undies got mixed up with Zoro's but he was too tired to notice and slipped them on after his bath.

- He only noticed when he happened to get a wedgie and went to go pick it out.

- Tried to keep it under wraps but he was blushing so hard, everyone could tell that something was wrong

- Eventually pulled you aside to tell you what was up

- "I uh... Usopp fucked up the laundry and I'm wearing your underpants instead of mines..."

- "Oh..."

- Absolutely refused to let you see him in them, and made you turn around when he pulled them off to give them back to you.

- Will never in a million years admit that he liked it

Blackleg Sanji

- Woke up late to cook breakfast, so in a rush , he slipped on what he could. That included your undies.

- He didn't know how to explain it or what it was, but he felt more attractive, more radiant.

- We all know how Sanji felt when wearing a dress and bloomers on Iva's island, so of course he'd feel the same wearing feminine style undies.

- He didn't notice until late in the day, when he went to the bathroom. He was absolutely mortified when he found out that he was wearing your underwear.

- After the shock wore off, he realized how much he liked it. It made him feel all sorts of things. Sexy, beautiful, pretty, you name it.

- He loved how they felt against his skin, how he looked in them, it actually turned him on a bit and he had to beat one off in the bathroom. It turned him on even more when he slipped them back on after doing such a dirty deed.

- He doesn't tell you about the ordeal and he doesn't give them back, feeling too guilty and flustered about it, even though he wants to explore this side of him with you.

- "Hey Sanji, have you seen a pair of white undies with a bow on the front ? I can't find them anywhere."

- "N-No, I haven't, sorry."

- "Huh, must've got lost in the laundry, they'll turn up soon."

- Meanwhile, he has them on. He so desperately wants you to know but he's not ready yet. Exploring this side of Sanji is a story for another day.

#one piece x reader #one piece #reader insert #one piece x black!reader #black reader #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #blackleg sanji #slight n/sfw #anime x reader #monster trio x reader #monster trio

[petalsscribbles]

1. negotiations

Yn can't help but note just how big and prestigious Jay's workplace looks as he stands in front of it. One can only guess just how many floors it has. Either way its overwhelming appearance does not help ease that strange almost foreboding feeling in his chest. He sighs and braces himself as he enters.

The receptionist is dressed as everyone would expect. Grey pencil skirt reaching just below her knees and a jacket to match. Rectangular glasses sit on her pointy nose as she types away with her perfectly manicured fingers.

"Hi, I'm Yn. I'm here to see Mr. Park." He says taming his shaking voice.

"Ah welcome!" She says with a practiced warm tone and a perfect smile. "I'll let you through. Mr. Park's office is on the 20th floor."

"Thank you." He answers and she bows her head slightly. Just as instructed, Yn passes the terminals and makes his way towards the elevators, pressing the right button once he's in. The ride is torturously long, or at least it feels like it. He can't help but wonder how much has Jay changed since he last saw him. He, Wonyoung and Yn used to hang out as kids, until Jay moved to America for his studies at 13 and he hasn't seen him since. Well, until now, but Yn figures they'll have plenty of time to catch up once they're married.

The walk from the elevator to Jay's office is short and a secretary with another practiced smile lets him in.

Jay's office is spacious, to say the least, perhaps way too big for a single person to work in.

"Yn, I'm glad you could make it." Jay says, getting up from his desk and walking over to his future husband. Yn can only let out a quiet hi.

Face wise he hasn't changed all that much, still very much the boy he knew. Body is a whole another story though. He towers over Yn and the suit he's wearing highlights his athletic figure.

Jay puts his hand on Yn's back and leads him to the chair infront of his desk, taking his place on the opposite side once Yn is comfortably seated.

"Thank you for making time for me." He starts "You must have been surprised."

"A little but it's okay." Yn admits.

"Okay, let's get to work. When it comes to engagement, I plan to propose to you on my grandfather's birthday party. There will be a lot of cameras already so it's convenient."

Convenient.

Yeah, that's what this is. That's what they are. Convenient.

"Now for the marriage itself. Do you want to move in with me, or should we get a new apartment?"

"A new one." Yn answers. Jay nods.

"Should we sleep in one bed or do you want a room on your own?"

"Let's share, in case someone visits."

"What about chores and cooking? Do you want me to hire someone or should we split?"

"I think we can manage our own apartment."

"I agree. We're not toddlers." Jay says and Yn chuckles slightly. "This is just my idea but, I think we should do skinship at home, so it doesn't seem forced when we're in public."

"Yeah, okay. We can do that." yn answers quickly, trying to hide his initial surprise.

"Are you fine with pet names?" Jay adds.

"Yeah, as long as it's nothing too cringy."

"Okay. Anything you'd like to add?"

Yn thinks for a second. There is a big part of marriage that they have not covered yet.

Intimacy.

"Are you going to find a mistress?"

"What?!" He exclaims, losing his composure as his eyes widen. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, I mean, I assume you probably won't have sex with me so..." Yn trails off. One of the most shocking parts of this whole ordeal is why Jay would marry a man.

"Why wouldn't I?" He asks after taking control of his voice again.

"Aren't you straight?"

"No I'm bisexual."

"Oh." He suddenly feels incredibly dumb. He went to college for Christ's sake of course he could make some discoveries about himself.

"Yn, I won't force you to have sex with me but if either of us had a lover and got caught by press we'd either have to: be branded as a cheater, admit that this is fake or trying to convince everyone we have an open marriage. I don't think I have to explain to you why none of those options are good for us."

"Right, right."

"Well if that's all I won't waste any more of your time. But don't forget we can always make adjustments." Jay reminds. Yn just nods and gives him a small smile.

"I'll see you at the party."

a/n: updates probably won't be as frequent as it was with Bad Habits but I'll try my best not to give up on you my pookies

taglist OPEN comment/ send ask to be added

@starchasing-cryptid @onementally-unstabel-kid @nootnootpinguuu @kkurbys @gnusihcom @silkentides @monstaxpuppy @bubblztaro @lavanderxamour @zzzavid

prev masterlist next

#enhypen #enhypen smau #enhypen x male reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen jay x male reader #enhypen jay x reader #enhypen jay smau

[maxwell-grant]

Since it's been going around, how would various pulp heroes take on the Death Note murders, and would they survive the ordeal?

A couple of clarifications:

There is a possibility that Ogon Bat, who is a "God of Justice", is either already some kind of shinigami, or at least able to speak with and interact with Ryuk just fine.

The Golden Amazon and Emilia the Ragdoll could definitely kick Kira's ass and solve the case, but they absolutely should not be aware of the existence of the Death Note, that would just make things worse.

You'd think The Monarch / The Blue Morpho getting his hands on the Death Note would be an equally apocalyptic scenario but I don't think he'd even know what to do with it. He very clearly just wants to get one guy, and became the Blue Morpho so he could kill everyone standing in the way of getting that guy, and he's very clearly been putting off killing that one guy for years now. The Death Note is the solution to a problem he defines his life around trying and failing to solve. He'd be stumped.

Doc Savage, well on one hand of course he would solve the case, he's Doc Savage, if Kira was in a Doc Savage story the whole Shinigami business would have been smoke and mirrors perpetrated by criminals with access to a heart attack inducing machine with a perfectly logical explanation. On the other hand, Doc Savage is one of the only guys in here who is globally famous with his full name and face on the papers, so realistically Kira would nail him very quickly. I'm gonna split the difference by saying Doc would solve the case either way.

Nick Carter does most of the things Doc Savage does except he actually does regularly encounter weird fantastical kitchen sink bullshit on the regular, so I think he'd have a much easier time wrapping his head around the Death Note's particulars.

The Spider would not intuit the mechanics of the Death Note, he probably would not be aware of there even being a thing as a Death Note, but by the end of the story in the last paragraph he would have killed Kira one way or another, very possibly by accident. Same goes for the sword-n-sorcery characters featured there, they would have gotten their kills by the end of it (Spear would probably have the easiest time, he's just a caveman with a giant tyrannosaurus on his side and neither of them have names Light can use to kill them, he's fucked)

Six-Gun Gorilla does have a name that Light could use, but A: He would never find out, B: He would never think a gorilla would be his undoing, and C: There's a decent chance Ryuk would let the gorilla hunt and kill him because it's funny and so would be handing Six-Gun Gorilla the Death Note.

Nyctalope would probably survive Kira's usual method of execution given his heart is artificial, but I don't think he'd be able to crack the case, he's not much of a detective. A lot of these characters were chosen because they have different skillsets that don't make them as suited for uncovering this case regardless of how smart they are.

There is a decent chance that Hugo Danner would figure out Kira by complete accident, and most likely beg Light to find a way to kill him.

Nick and Nora Charles would not solve it but they'd be okay, the case would probably solve itself and they'd laugh it off.

I could also put Blue Morpho, El Sombra, The Whisperer, Black Bat and Hugo Danner in a "Would somehow make the situation worse" category.

Putting the names of the characters below the cut:

Can intuit the mechanics / Can solve the case -The Shadow, Arsene Lupin, Sherlock Holmes, Mexican Fantomas -Heiji Zenigata, Ogon Bat, Thomas Carnacki, Silver John/John the Balladeer, Sar Dubnotal -Nero Wolfe, Tom Strong, Tesla Strong, Nick Carter, Captain Harlock, Golden Amazon -Ducky (Lavender Jack), Rufus Carter, Theresa Ferrier (Lavender Jack), Emilia the Ragdoll, Carmen Sandiego, Rocambole

Can intuit the mechanics / Could not solve the case -The Spirit, The Phantom, Edison Hark (The Good Asian), Lavender Jack -G-8, Green Lama, Peter Cannon, Jules Grandin, Wesley Dodds, Judex -Indiana Jones, Spider-Man Noir, John Blacksad, John Thunstone, Nyctalope, Tintin, Solomon Kane

Cannot the mechanics / Can solve the case -The Spider, The Avenger, Doc Savage, Honoria Crabb -Assane Diop, Conan the Barbarian, Lobster Johnson, Tarzan, Dick Tracy -Flash Gordon, Professor Challenger, Red Sonja, Scrooge McDuck, Imaro -Byomkesh Bakshi, Six-Gun Gorilla, Spear (Primal), Black Terror, The Blue Morpho

Cannot intuit the mechanics / Could not solve the case -Moon Man, Green Hornet & Kato, Lone Ranger, The Scarecrow of Romney Marsh -Phillip Marlowe, Domino Lady, Rocketeer, Miss Fury, Hugo Danner, John Carter -Zorro, Black Bat, El Sombra, Shaft, Sailor Steve Costigan -Darkman, The Whisperer, Nick & Nora Charles, Crimson Clown

#replies tag #pulp heroes #pulp fiction #the shadow #death note #superheroes #arsene lupin #sherlock holmes #ogon bat #doc savage #venture bros #the spider #green hornet #rocketeer #zorro #darkman #spear #primal #conan #tarzan #the phantom #lavender jack #carmen sandiego #indiana jones

[caramel1mochi]

ぐちゃ ! (Splat!) [Yoru x F! Reader] [2]

Heya everyone!

Guess what? That's right, I'm trying something new!

After accumulating some a good amount of writing while waiting for the vote, instead of posting every other day with a few words, I'm gonna be posting once a week with a collection of words! Yep, this bad boy here is 7.8k words long!! MY HANDS AND EYES ARE KILLING ME I'M SORRY FOR ANY MISTAKES I MISSED

This is just a test to see if it's a good idea or not. Maybe if it goes well, I'll keep going, or stop if it's chaotic. Anyway, have a good one! See you next Friday!

❤ฺ·。

Yoru x F! Reader

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 4.5 / Part 5 / Part 6

Genre: Fluff

Synopsis: Hapless doesn't even begin to describe you. With your life flipped upside down within the span of a day; you're left to rely on your best friend Tala to help you pick up the pieces and build the new one forced upon you. And this 'luck' seems to have caught the attention of one of her friends.

。+❤ฺ·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ· +❤·。❤ฺ·。+❤ฺ·

Police sirens loudly rang throughout the entire district, Tala peeking from the alleyway you both hid in to notice another police car swerving past.

“Relax, Y/N, they won’t find us here!”

“It doesn’t matter! Did you see the print on the GROUND?!”

You gasped and held yourself, still shocked from the entire ordeal. Tala knelt next to you and patted your back, struggling to reassure you. How could she, when the sight surprised her just as much? Besides, it’s not like she knew how to calm people down in the first place.

“It almost killed us! It almost killed us, Tala!”

“It didn’t kill anyone, okay?! It missed us, we’re alive!”

“We almost died! We almost died!”

You hugged your knees, hyperventilating.

“We almost got squashed, it missed us by a few inches!”

You kept rambling nonsense under your breath, your voice quivering with an abnormal amount of fear. Tala, used to near-death experiences, wasn’t as horrified as you were. But that doesn’t mean what happened could just be easily brushed off.

Whilst swatting the flies away, suddenly, it was like an extraterrestrial force from outer space slammed itself against the ground. And when you both opened your eyes, a massive hand imprinted itself upon the hill you both stood on; defiling it. Like a giant that slapped the ground with all of its might. Even she couldn’t explain it.

“Y/N, Y/N, it’s alright, look, if the government doesn’t catch up to us first, then maybe a secret organisation will!”

“HOW IS THAT BETTER?!”

She awkwardly scratched the back of her neck, chuckling to herself. 

“Okay, uh– good point, but… but look on the bright side! I just called someone and they know exactly how to help!”

“Help us?! We had nothing to do with this! The hand– it, it appeared out of nowhere, it came out of nowhere! It almost killed us! We were so close–”

Tala grabbed your shoulders, and forced your gaze on hers. She would slap you, but you weren’t one of her co-workers.

“Y/N! Help is on the way, okay! Stop freaking out!”

You stood up, clutching your head with both hands and muttering random sentences under your breath, ones she didn’t catch onto.

“I– I think I’m going insane, Tala! A– a giant hand, a massive hand! It appeared out of nowhere and almost hit us! How does that happen, how is this– how, is it possible? How is it normal?! Is this– is this what they meant by Radiants being dangerous?!”

“No, Y/N, this has nothing to do with that!”

Tala knew your information of Radiancy was extremely limited, mostly to what the news would spew out. But she couldn’t exactly tell you the whole story, not when you could hardly differentiate between left and right. Also, it’s confidential. Shouldn’t forget that.

“Just hold on, we’ll get help. The police will be off our tail in a second!”

You turned to her, panicking.

“Why would the police be on our tail?!”

Shouldn’t have said that either.

“What’s with you two?”

Thankfully, like some guardian angel (to Tala), a familiar voice appeared from behind you both. A dark silhouette stood in the entrance of the constricted alley, the street lights reflecting off of his blue jacket. Of course, you were terrified for a split second, thinking it was a cop, but Tala’s reaction quickly calmed you.

“Yoru, finally! We need your help!”

He stepped in, both hands in his pockets. And on his face, juxtaposed to the chaos, the police sirens and helicopters that wrapped around the park you both rushed out of, was an expression full of boredom.

“What now? Did you make another thunderstorm?”

Tala noticed the sudden shift in your expression and awkwardly chuckled, scratching the back of her head. But luckily, Yoru turned his attention to you instead.

“Who are you?”

“Who am I? Who are you? Why are you here?!”

“Yoru! Yoru, she’s, uh– this is, this is Y/N, my friend, and she’s freaked out right now, so you shouldn’t be asking her anything.”

He blankly stared at you, almost as if he was sceptical of your general presence. Thankfully, it was only for a few seconds before he turned to Tala.

“Give me a run down.”

“Alright!”

Tala quickly perked up, politely keeping your mouth shut. The events were scrambled in your mind, so the chances of you saying anything coherent was zero. And Tala knew it.

“There’s a park behind us, and, uh… there might be, sort of, a massive handprint on the hill.”

“Yeah, I saw it on the news. I meant give me the intimate rundown. Did your kit manifest?”

Pictures already spread throughout the country, especially since it flattened a few dozen massive trees in one fell swoop, and possibly a few animals hidden within the grass and branches. If the concept of it pancaking living beings wasn’t so horrifying, it would’ve been impressive. Of course, it shocked you how quickly things spread, but bad news travels fast, as they say.

Tala raised her hands defensively.

“There wasn’t electricity involved, it wasn’t my fault! Stop bringing it up!”

“Electricity?!”

You blurted out, and it was too late for Tala. Though he might’ve not really known it, Yoru’s complete disregard for the situation pretty much exposed her. Not that he really cared.

“Is she a Radiant?”

“No, she’s not. I’m telling you, it wasn’t either of us!”

Tala interrupted, but Yoru kept his eyes on yours, as if she never spoke.

“Before the hand, what exactly were you doing?”

He stared at you, and you couldn’t help but feel uneasy under his piercing gaze as he towered over you. Then, he looked down, the glimmer of gold catching his attention. In the darkness that enveloped you all, it stood out.

“I– I was swatting flies, okay? They were gathering around us and I–”

“Spare me the details. You were swatting flies, right?”

You nodded.

“Y– yes, yeah, I was swatting–”

“Was your hand open?”

“Yeah?”

“And what about this thing?” 

He pointed to your bracelet, which you didn’t even notice until now. Not when you stumbled on your words, hardly able to put together a sentence with how fast he was going. Unlike Tala, this Yoru guy absolutely did not hold back, even when you were at the peak of your anguish. He seemed overeager to put the blame on you.

“This bracelet? What about it?! It has nothing to do with–”

The words were stuck in your throat once you lifted your hand and actually got a good look at it. You saw the golden accessory now wrapped tightly around your wrist, hardly moving an inch. Unlike before, when it could’ve easily been mistaken for a necklace with how loose it was. You scratched at it; but it wouldn’t move. 

Tala was just as stumped.

“That– that was loose, yeah?”

You awkwardly laughed, struggling to tilt the object. But it stuck to you, like a limb. It didn’t take long for Yoru to catch on, turning to Tala.

“There’s your problem. You should’ve called Harbour, not me, idiot.”

“Harbour’s not my friend and you know it!”

As they bickered, you struggled with the bracelet. But trying to vigorously rip it away from you shot pain through your arm. Trying to get this off would be like ripping off your finger with no tools. You couldn’t fathom how this was even possible. How did it even happen? How did it tighten, and when?!

You clenched your fist and worked to take it off, digging your nails under it whilst the two continued arguing about meaningless nonsense.

“The bracelet’s so tiny! How could it have so much power, anyway?!”

“Hell if I know.”

“Really, it also fell on her arm when she first wore it! When did it get so tight?”

As she continued rambling, Yoru felt an odd sensation enter the atmosphere around them. And he quickly glanced behind him, noticing the trees that previously swerved with the wind completely stop, the branches now still as statues.

In the literal sense, the air stood still. 

He looked at you, noticing your fist clenched, and you prepared to loosen it.

Then, the shadow of an invisible set of fingers emerged above you. 

But just before it could crush you all, he grabbed your wrist and slammed it against the nearby wall, the silhouette disappearing just as fast as it appeared; not before destroying the top portion of the buildings you both hid in between.

“Stop moving that damn hand!”

He shouted, a massive portion of the roof falling behind you. It crashed and splattered into pieces so loudly, the noise deafened you for a split second. And once it was over, you weren’t given a single moment to catch yourself. Yoru angrily met your gaze, still holding on to your wrist.

“Don’t you dare move a finger, lady. Your hand can squash a quarter of the Philippines.”

Just like that, he let go and stepped out of the alley.

“With me. We’re getting this sorted.”

Like a pair of chicks behind their mother hen, you both mindlessly rushed behind him, blindly trusting his judgement. Of course, you had no choice, while Tala clearly trusted this dude.

“That’s so cool! So, this is like, an artefact? Like Harbour and Astra? You also have that mask, yeah?”

“What are you talking about?!”

Tala stuttered once she remembered you were right there again. And this time, Yoru caught on, annoyed. She could hardly go a few seconds without blowing her cover now, and it was embarrassing to watch on his end. So, like the honest, no-nonsense man that he was, he made the obvious decision to ease the stress on his dear friend’s shoulders.

“We’re both Radiants part of a secret organisation. And her callsign’s Neon.”

“Yoru!”

Genius.

“Neon? Radiants? Secret organisation?! So, that’s the job you didn’t want to tell me about!”

You met her gaze angrily, furious at her keeping this from you. And of course, she awkwardly chuckled, turning her gaze away. Shortly after, you clutched your head and massaged your temples, working to ease the aching that slowly took over you.

“Oh god, this is too much for one day…”

Yoru sighed and took out his comb, brushing his hair.

“Yeah? Don’t worry, there’s more.”

❤ฺ·。

Arriving on an aircraft dubbed the VLT/R, you sat right next to Tala– sorry, NEON, still holding your head and staring at the pristine flooring in shock. Yoru sat in front of you, fiddling with a butterfly comb in his hand. Unlike you, he was completely unbothered. Maybe he had gotten slightly amused by the situation, and your reaction to all of this. The tension was heavy, and she could tell your head was so close to exploding. NEON needed to calm you down.

“So… what now?”

“Best case scenario, they break the thing off and let her go.”

“Great! Don’t worry, Y/N, you’ll be back to your clerk job in no time!”

Neon said as she clasped her hands together. Yoru, on the other hand, simply raised an eyebrow.

“Tch. You’re excited about being a clerk?”

“It’s a peaceful job!”

You blurt out, meeting his gaze. And he couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Right. Must be high paying, too. You smell like you stepped out of a hibachi restaurant.”

…

“Is that a joke?”

“I’m serious.”

You shook your head in confusion.

“We went to a cafe. No restaurant.”

“Liar. I know the scent of a grilled steak with soy sauce on top. All cooked in sesame oil, too. Only a skilled hibachi chef could successfully pull off something that smells like that.” 

You blankly stared at him for a few seconds, unable to process all of the extra information. Compared to everything you previously learned, it wasn’t anything important, but you also never went to a hibachi restaurant in your entire life. Too expensive.

Yoru proudly pointed to his nose, a smug smile on his face.

With how blank his expression was this entire time, this looked unnatural on him.

“I have a good sense of smell.”

“Yeah… I didn’t want to say anything, but I swore I could smell adobo since we left the alley. Fresh adobo! Just the way lola makes it.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, watching Neon lick her lips in excitement at the simple thought of it.

“I think you’re both just hungry.”

“Did you dip your hand in water?”

Yoru suddenly perked up. You met his gaze in confusion, before he pointed to your hand. 

And safe to say, you were shocked all over again. Out of nowhere, there was some form of liquid that suddenly started seeping from your skin, dripping down your hand. It wasn’t sweat, either, it was an ongoing flow of clear fluid, like water.

You held it up to your face, confused. It didn’t smell like anything. Maybe it was water?

“I probably wasn’t looking…”

Before another word can be exchanged, you jumped once the VLT/R landed, and the door slid open to reveal a sight that took you a second to process. In the exit stood two women and one man. The one with the long black ponytail stepped up, a warm smile on her face and her eyes locked on yours.

❤ฺ·。

 

At first, you thought the one with the ponytail, Sage, would be the one to examine your hand. But Viper instead took it upon herself, since she seemed more qualified when it came to actually studying the human body and such.

It was the next day, early morning, and weirdly enough, it started off better than most mornings. That’s right, you were in the empty cafeteria, getting yelled at by your boss on the phone. You would say it’s a typical morning, but that would be a lie. Usually, you’d wake up by your extremely aggravating alarm at four, and still be late for work. Or, on the weekends, by the screaming of your younger family members.

“Y/N, I trusted you to have the papers ready by seven! You didn’t even show up!”

“Look, I’m sorry. Things happened!”

“What? ‘Things happen?’ That’s your excuse? You might as well spit on my face while you’re at it.”

You sighed and glanced at the bracelet on your right hand, a jade green tinge slowly overwhelming the gold.

“It wasn’t my choice. You’d know me by now, right? I never miss a day of work. But believe me, just this one time, something really did happen!”

“Unless this vague thing can get my papers done in less than fifteen minutes, it doesn’t really concern me, Y/N!”

You winced at the volume of his voice. Even if you’d gotten around to completing the task he’d given you, the amount of papers you were entrusted with were enough to complete a book. Logically, you’d need multiple people to complete it.

But he knew that, unlike you, your co-workers would complain about doing this without getting paid for it.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’ll try to find my way back, but–”

“Don’t bother. I might as well fire you, that’ll save me the stress of–”

You noticed a shadow looming over you, looking to your right to find a familiar face. Surprisingly, it was Yoru; the guy from yesterday.

Pleasantly complementing his generally blue palette were the rays of the sun, painting both him and the cafeteria into a stunning shade of gold. Had you believed in fairytales, you’d assume the Midas touch was in full effect.

You muted and gave him a tired smile.

“Magandang umaga. Yoru, right?” <Good morning.>‎‎  

He pointed to the phone in your ear, your boss’s voice loud enough for him to be audible to the Japanese.

“What’s going on?”

“Oh, I missed work and my boss’s mad. Don’t worry, he’ll drop it eventually.”

You’d grown used to his yelling enough to be able to guess exactly what he’s talking about. And thus, you were able to have a conversation without missing anything. And by the blank look on Yoru’s face, he wasn’t impressed.

“You might as well quit.”

You tittered and turned back to the phone, but he caught your attention once more.

“I’m serious. You’re not going back to civilisation with that thing on your wrist.”

“I live paycheck to paycheck, you know. If I quit, I’ll be out on the streets!”

“You’ll be living here, lady. There’s no ‘bills’ anymore.”

His tone slightly shifted towards aggression. And though you were taken aback, you were already overloaded with stress enough to let it slide.

“Even if I wanted to quit, he won’t take me seriously! Maybe if I keep nagging him for like, a week, but not now.”

“Best I can do is two minutes.”

You stared at him for a moment, before tilting your head.

“You can get me out in two?”

“Want me to?”

He really thinks he can get to someone as stubborn and talkative as your boss, huh? As much as you didn’t want to, you really didn’t have much to lose. Even you knew that they wouldn’t let you out so soon after flattening a hill by accident. And so, with an eager nod, he immediately. stretched out his hand towards you.

“Hand me that.”

You did. He took a few steps away, and you shifted in your seat as he walked towards the centre of the cafeteria, anxious.

“Hey, listen here.”

Yoru slightly raised his voice. Though he was a metre away, you could hear the boss’s ranting immediately get interrupted.

“This is her friend. She quit. Sorry.” 

The air stood still for a few seconds, before he started talking again, clearly furious. And knowing how much he liked to rabbit about, Yoru had gotten sick of his voice within a few seconds, judging by the way he furrowed his brow. Probably bringing up the papers he entrusted you with.

“Not her problem anymore. Figure it out.”

Just as he began ranting again, Yoru quickly spoke up.

“Yeah. Too bad. Bye.”

And just like that, he closed the call and handed you the phone.

To say you were shocked would be an understatement. More specifically at how blunt he was, telling a powerful man to shut his trap like that.

“Juskó, uh, are you– are you sure he won’t–” <Oh my god,>‎ 

Just as you said that, your phone began ringing once more, and it was exactly who you expected.

“Do I answer?!”

“Tch, no? Block him.”

“But what if he gets mad? Like, what if he does something?”

He rolled his eyes and moved to the fridge.

“Y/N, you’re an active threat to humanity until you get that hand under control. Relax.”

Oh, right. The bracelet.

You stared at the phone ringing in silence, many thoughts overlapping in your mind. Though you were shocked to your core at what he’d done, Yoru didn’t seem bothered whatsoever. He simply made his breakfast like this was a typical morning for him.

Taking your phone into your hand, you hesitantly closed the call. It began ringing again. And this time, you took his advice and blocked him. Once you did, the calls stopped coming. And it was as if a few tonnes of metal were lifted off of your shoulders, taking in the silence once more.

Wow… This must be what serenity feels like, beyond a word slapped on top of a pretty image on Google.

“So… what happens now?”

“What?”

“I just quit my job. What do I do now?”

“You work for Valorant now. Did Viper test out that arm yet?”

You looked at your hand where the ‘bracelet’ sat. Only now did you notice the colour. There wasn’t a hint of gold anymore. It was fully green, and it didn’t glimmer like a gem.

Also, they numbed your arm so that you wouldn’t accidentally crush the base.

“I guess. I don’t remember what she told me. I blanked out halfway through.”

Yoru scoffed.

“They’ll figure that out, first. Then, after training, you’ll get on missions with us.”

You looked up at him, watching him take out a few eggs and wash them.

“Missions? Like what?”

“Depends. Other than squashing, what can you do?”

You turned back to your numb arm. And this time, you lifted up to the table, allowing the sun to shine and give you a clearer view of the bracelet.

It was hard to remember, and you left Viper’s synopsis back in Neon’s room since you ran out when your boss called.

“I think she said I can make smells, or whatever.”

“Tch, what?”

“Yeah, wait– I remember now! The water from my hand, apparently it’s nectar and it has a scent. Viper said it smells like fruit, and there’s someone else, she had a big ponytail. She said it smells like… mountain air.”

“Mountain air? Yeah, that checks out.”

You followed his movements, watching him wash a bowl and a pan. Was he mocking her?

“What does that mean?”

“Sage was a monk, I think. Probably meditated on a mountain.”

He turned on the stove and immediately got to cooking, cracking the eggs.

“Monk? That’s… new.”

The people here sounded like unique individuals. First, Viper, whom you recognised from the awards she won years ago. Now, a monk.

“Explains the hibachi smell yesterday.”

He commented and you smiled to yourself, remembering his eagerness as he explained the intricate details of the meat.  Him, and Neon. So, the smell differs with everyone, you thought. But you seemed to be immune to it.

Then, there was a delectable real smell that ripped your attention away from your thinking and back onto Yoru. Surprisingly, it was from his food.

“What’s for breakfast?”

“Tornado omelette.”

Tornado omelette? Unique breakfast, you thought.

“Mind sharing?”

“I do, actually.”

You paused for a moment, quickly growing disappointed once you understood.

“Awe, really? Lame.”

“Yeah, I only cook for people I like. Sorry.”

His apology didn’t sound genuine. But, to be fair, nothing that came out of his mouth sounded genuine. ‘People I like’, he said. Did you even need to ask to know that his list of liked people was minuscule? Just look at him.

“Do you like anyone here?”

“No.”

He answered with quickness and you rolled your eyes and sat back. But then, you promptly remembered what he did. Yoru shut down your boss with no more than a few words, and practically freed you within a few minutes of meeting you. So really, how could you be mad at him right now?

This was one of the rare interactions that didn’t go horribly wrong.

You looked at him. Well, the back of his head, since he wasn’t facing you whatsoever.

“Hey, Yoru?”

“Yeah.”

You smiled.

“Thanks for helping me out.”

…

“Don’t thank me.”

He said. And again, you were taken aback. It didn’t sound like a humble statement, either. He genuinely sounded uninterested by your gratitude. What kind of philosophy does this guy follow? You thought, but it felt like it was too soon to judge.

❤ฺ·。

“I can’t believe you’re getting your own room already. You should’ve said no, and we’d have sleepovers every night!”

Neon said excitedly as you scanned the updated paper in your hand. Her voice echoed through the cafeteria you both sat in, since it was empty despite it being late in the afternoon. It’s not like you’ve seen anyone other than her and Yoru, and Viper who took you in for a few hours before letting you have your break.

“Tala, two can barely fit on that bed.”

“But with a promotion, I can make it a king-size.”

She winked, and you couldn’t help but force an eye roll at this, looking down at the paper again.

“Also, it’s Neon. You’re not really allowed to use real names around here, remember?”

“You guys call me by my name all the time.”

“They haven’t picked a callsign for you yet! I’m thinking it’s something about gems. Maybe… Psh, I dunno, gold? Mineral?”

“Mineral? What am I, baby food?”

Neon laughed, taking her smoothie into her hand.

“Fair enough. Anyway, did you meet anyone yet?”

You wordlessly gestured to the cafeteria around you, as if to remind her there’s nobody. And it’s not like she caught on, she blankly stared at you as she took a sip.

“Valorant’s emptier than I thought. Are you and Yoru the only ones here?”

“Oh! No, no way, there’s plenty of us! They’re on missions right now.”

Amidst your crowded and exhausted mind, the only people you remembered were Viper and the other monk lady. But were you about to admit that, out of all of them, Yoru took control of your mind effortlessly? Well…

You put the paper down and sighed, smiling.

“I talked to Yoru this morning…”

Neon raised an eyebrow as she sipped her smoothie, watching your previously tense posture shift.

“What’s his deal?”

“What do you mean?”

You turned your gaze away, unsure how to tell her.

“I don’t know. He's nice, but also vulgar at the same time.”

“Oh! Yeah, I know what you mean. Yoru’s just that type of guy, you know? Lone wolf and that edgy stuff. He’s a rude-ass, but if you don’t mind that, he’s chill.” she brought the straw up to her lips as she spoke, “Did he do anything?”

“He told my boss off, and I don’t have a job now.”

She nearly choked, clearing her throat and pulling the drink away.

“Your boss? The same guy who–”

“YES. The same guy who convinced me unpaid overtime is legal, okay? Don’t remind me.”

Neon laughed, taking a quick sip. And this time, she was mindful not to spill a single drop.

“Did he share his food with you, though?”

“Uh, no?”

“Then he doesn’t like you.”

…

What? 

“Is this an ongoing thing?”

“It is! Yoru’s like, the best cook here. Nobody can top him, but nobody can get a taste either. I’d kill to try his homemade soba!”

She said as she licked her lips with the same excitement she harboured for her lola’s adobo. You beamed at this, sitting up once more. Nobody can get a taste either, huh? And Neon’s overeagerness combined with the tornado omelette you saw earlier, it was clear that his dishes were no joke. Gordon Ramsay who, right?

But just as you thought you could take on this challenge, you backed off.

No way.

Then, Neon fixed her posture once the sound of heels clicking took over your ears, both of you looking back to see a silhouette familiar to only her. You squinted, before smiling once you recognised the large ponytail, elegantly swerving with each step.

“Good morning, Y/N. How’s your hand?”

The ‘monk’, as you called her in your mind said, a sweet smile lifting her cheeks. Applying pressure to your fingers, you could tell the drug only now was in the midst of wearing off.

“Still numb, but I’m used to it.”

“Good. Are you ready to go back to the lab?”

You sighed and nodded. But just as you stood up, so did Neon, putting down her now-empty smoothie with a loud clank.

“Sage, did we decide on a name yet?”

Sage. That’s her name. Well, callsign

“Something came to mind, but we won't get to it until we determine how her hand works.”

She stopped at the doorway, wordlessly gesturing to you both to follow her. And with excitement you definitely didn’t share, Neon made her way towards the healer, trotting with each step.

❤ฺ·。

There wasn’t much of a difference between your old boss and Viper, now that a few hours have passed. Sure, this time, by what Yoru said and Neon confirmed; you had absolutely no bills to pay and even had vending machines to eat out of and all you had to do was let her study you relentlessly– okay, putting it that way; you sounded like a child.

“This might hurt.”

Viper suddenly twisted your wrist, forcing you to take in a sharp breath. Just a few more inches, and she’d definitely rip a few tendons. Thank god your hand was still numb.

“No, that’s fine– go ahead.”

You said with an awkward giggle, but she didn’t change her focused expression. And like an orange, more of the transparent nectar slipped out. And using her pipet, she aspirated a considerable amount of it, before emptying out on a vial. Then, she repeated this process, until it was full. 

“Sheesh, Y/N. Are you a sadist?”

“Sadist…?”

You said in confusion. Viper pulled away, side-eyeing Neon as she worked on the sample, and you quickly clutched your wet hand to relieve the pain.

“I think you mean masochist.”

“Tomato, tomato.”

Viper inhaled the scent of the nectar. And to your surprise, her face twisted to disgust; a major contrast to the serene expression you evoked from her and Sage just the day before.

“The smell keeps changing. What’s with that?”

“How? Didn’t it smell like fruit yesterday?”

“Yes, but it’s like…”

She pulled down her surgical mask and smelled it once more.

…

Viper shook her head. Clearly, she knew the answer, she just didn’t want to say.

“Neon, smell this.”

Neon stepped up to the counter and took a deep sniff, before coughing and pulling away.

“Why does that smell like– bleh, it smells like a bunch of electricity!”

You stared at her in confusion, and she took another deep inhale, clearing her throat.

“Yeah, it’s like, it’s kinda like I stuffed my face into a thunderstorm and smelt it, you know? It– it doesn’t make sense, I know!”

“Probably shouldn’t have only one person to test the sample.”

Viper sarcastically noted as she hurriedly closed the vial. This, of course, earned an odd look from you.

“Wait– but yesterday you said that the smell was good. Why’s it bad now?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s linked to emotion. How do you feel right now?”

You blinked.

“Uh… Fine, I guess?”

Just as you said that, there was a loud yet unfamiliar knock on the door behind you, and you all looked over to see a figure push the doors open and let himself in. It was a large burly man. Tall, and by god, even though his ocean-blue colour scheme reminded you of Yoru, the aura he emitted with each step was one of confidence and joy you’ve never seen in anyone else, especially not in a workplace. It was a complete juxtaposition to everything the Japanese was.

“Good afternoon, ladies! How are we doing?”

He called out with an immense amount of charm, being met with a wide smile from Neon.

“Harbour, welcome back! Remember what I told you? We found your match!”

“I thought I heard some ruckus about a new bracelet-wielder around here.”

Harbour. That must be the guy with the bracelet artefact, you thought.

He stopped. And though he met your gaze, your eyes were locked on his arm, his own imposing bracelet taking over half of his forearm with mesmerising patterns, as if it was cuttlefish that would take on different colours to hypnotise prey. Moreover, it was gold. Unlike the weird gross green tinge you had, it shined brilliantly, harbouring the same confidence as its carrier.

“I take it you’re tired?”

You jumped and looked at him, your lids heavier than a few tonnes of metal. Clearly, he said a few things you didn’t catch beforehand.

“Huh? Oh, sorry, I was– uh, your bracelet’s so much cooler…”

“Don’t say that, I’m sure yours has its own unique–”

“Definitely not.”

Holding up your arm, your hand and fingers numb, you smiled awkwardly as you allowed him to take in your own underwhelming… artefact. You noticed a shift in his expression as he took a step closer and observed, but his response wasn’t what you expected.

“Wait, is this a plant, or what?”

Only now did you notice the bracelet’s new form. And to say it was incredibly awkward looking, especially compared to Harbour, would be a grave understatement. To put it in the most flattering way possible, it looked like you ripped out a rose, cut off the top, took the stem and tightly wrapped them around your hand.

It took on a more forest-green colour with a vague cherry red hue surrounding it, a dozen spikes slowly sprouting with a drop of clear fluid on the end of each one of them. Said liquid looked like the nectar your hand would produce, but more contained.

Sure, the green might literally be its ‘stem’, but what plant even looked like this? Besides the aforementioned roses, you couldn’t think of anything else that was red in this way.

“Harbour, before you train her, can you smell this?”

Viper quickly handed him the vial. And once he complied, you noticed his previously amicable expression quickly switch at this. The scent displeased him. It wasn’t like he was disgusted, either. It was something else.

“That’s…”

He smelled it once more, before handing it back to her.

“That’s just repugnant.”

“Repugnant? Why, what do you smell?”

Even she was surprised at the word he used.

“I can’t describe it. I– I think you should ask someone else instead. Now, let’s get going, those hands aren’t going to train themselves, are they?”

Barely given a moment to process from how fast he was going, you quickly stood up and followed him. But why was he so eager to leave the conversation after smelling the vial? You wondered, especially with how quick he began talking. Just what could be in it?

However, before you could ask, he suddenly perked up with a new topic.

“How long have you been in that lab for?”

“Oh, I don’t know, since twelve?”

“Twelve afternoon? That’s almost six hours. I can’t imagine how suffocating it would be to stay that long. No pun intended.”

You smiled to yourself, meeting his gaze as you each walked down an unfamiliar hallway. He didn’t say anything funny, you just couldn’t help but share his contagious joy just by the way he’d talk.

Harbour was a massive difference from Yoru, that’s for sure.

“No pun intended? What pun?”

“You weren’t told yet? Viper works with poison. That’s her whole thing.”

“Oh? Poison? But I thought– wasn’t she a doctor…?”

“Doctor? Well, if you consider submerging rats in acid as healing them, then technically she’s a doctor.”

You sighed and rubbed your temples, attempting to move your right hand’s fingers despite barely being able to feel them. But thankfully, by this time, the drugs had slowly begun to wear off.

“Is there anyone normal around here?”

Harbour laughed and crossed his arms.

“I’ll be the first to tell you, you’re out of luck with that. I can't think of anybody here that’s normal.”

“Looks like I’m the first one, huh?”

Harbour laughed, slapping your back with a considerable amount of roughness, enough to unintentionally hurt you. But you kept your mouth shut and simply smiled along. It felt like your shoulder blade was about to break in half.

Every new agent that would be introduced, it would take some time to get used to them, with how unique everyone looked. But the only unique thing about you was your ‘bracelet’, the dark roots deep within your arm that looked like veins from far away, and maybe your messy bob. Other than that, you looked completely out of place. Almost to a funny degree if it wasn’t terrifying somewhat.

Harbour then stopped in front of a doorway. Inside, you could hear distant banging. Few and far between, but each one still made you jump.

“What the hell’s that noise?”

“That? Probably Gekko training.”

Gekko? 

“What kind of training makes this noise?”

He looked at you in amusement, still grinning.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you were normal, huh? Anyway, you’ve spent six hours back in the lab, you don’t want a break before we work on that hand?”

“No, no, no breaks, it’s okay. We can keep going.”

“Are you sure?”

You smiled and shook your head, clearly insisting despite your considerable need to lie down. It felt like you’d be a nuisance if you prolonged this anymore, so you couldn’t help but cave in.

“Sure. I’m a bank clerk, I can handle anything.”

“Is that so? Can you handle guns?”

You awkwardly laughed, hoping that he was being sarcastic since his cheeky tone supported this notion.

“Oh, please. I get held at gunpoint weekly at work, a little glock isn’t gonna do anything to me.”

“Haha, good one. Alright, come in, we’ll see what you can do.”

You weren’t joking.

He swung the doors open and allowed the air from inside to strongly hit your face like a solid bring, the strong scent of gunpowder entering your nostrils. And from the figure far away, shooting down a few dozen bots with smoke billowing from the red tip, it wasn’t a smell your hand could produce, that's for sure. Not since you yourself could smell it.

“Gekko, easy on the Vandal! Give it a moment to cool down!”

He shouted over the shooting, somehow, his deep voice dwarfing the sounds of the bullets. Enough to earn his attention and quickly comply.

“Hey, coach, welcome back! How was–”

Just as Gekko looked back, he cut his sentence short and smiled as you two approached him, the smell of fire growing stronger and stronger. 

“Woah, who’s this?”

He quickly put the gun down, turned his body to face you in order to look more presentable. And by god, you couldn’t help but stare at his neon green buzzcut. With how exhausted you were, this bright colour managed to wake you up.

“We have a new one to train alongside you. This is…”

“Y/N.”

Gekko beamed at this, clearly excited at having a new recruit already.

“Y/N! What’s up? They didn’t give you a name, yet?”

“Yeah… no. She’s an active threat right now. Names will come after we make sure she won’t squash the base by accident.”

“Squash the base? Like the whole thing?! Jeez, I don’t even want to ask what you can do.”

You sighed.

“You don’t want to know.”

“Hopefully it doesn’t involve the radivore stuff, Deadlock will be on your ass if so.”

He winked with an immense amount of cheekiness, earning an eye roll from Harbour. But before he could get an earful for somehow bringing whoever that was into this, you heard a gurgle behind him, and a yellow creature emerged from next to his leg, an audible pitter patter with each slow step as it moved to get a good look at you.

You blinked and stared at it.

Were you dreaming, or what?

“Since when were penguins yellow?”

Gekko looked down in confusion, before he glanced behind him and saw exactly what you were talking about. And he couldn’t help but laugh at your assumption.

“No, this is Wings! He’s one of my buddies. You know, he’s part of that radivore thing I talked about.”

You knelt, getting a closer look at the critter. And he looked adorable. Especially with the armour plates and the purple mask thing he had over his face, complementing his beady white eyes.

“Is he a penguin, though?”

“Noo, no penguins! He’s a whole new thing, you feel me? I dunno what, but it’s… um, you know, I never really thought about it.”

“Maybe you should do the honours of naming the species, Gekko.”

Harbour joked, but Gekko seemed to take it seriously, saying something your tired mind didn’t catch.

Wingman slowly approached, his eyes clearly stuck on the bracelet. Probably since the vein-root thing looked pretty macabre when you spent more than a second observing it.

“Anyway, I’m thinking we take this training outside, like Brim said. Maybe a landscape, what do you think?”

Harbour noted. And Gekko probably said something in response to this, but again, you couldn’t focus on anything other than the mysterious creature in front of you. Also, how much you wanted to sleep. Hey, things were going well so far, why not enjoy yourself?

“He’s so tiny, I’ve never seen anything like this.”

You muttered. And on instinct, after the medicine wore off, you lifted your right hand to pet him.

“Y/N, I don’t think you should–”

A loud crash, though muffled, suddenly took over all of your ears.

You suddenly were forced up with an immense amount of pressure around your wrists, enough to completely restrict your blood flow. Harbour had grabbed your wrist and lifted you before anymore damage could be done.

“OKAY. Okay. You know what? I think we’re taking you–”

Then, a portion of the roof to your right tumbled over, squashing at least five bots with a loud bang that deafened each of you. And of course, that wasn’t to account for the debris that suddenly rushed so threateningly close towards you.

All colour drained from your face.

❤ฺ·。

Your entire right arm was drugged. 

And despite her best efforts, Neon wasn’t able to convince you to leave her room to meet the rest of the agents, especially her friends, who’d just returned from their expedition. Or even help you forget what had happened. The only silver lining in this was that Viper hadn’t had the time to assign you your own room. Otherwise, she’d be banging and clawing at your door like a hungry cat.

“Y/N, relax, it’s fine! Harbour said the hole’s only a metre wide, it’s easy to fix!”

“I’M NOT MOVING.”

You shouted, your voice muffled since your hand covered the majority of your face. Mostly the lower part, but I digress. Since you were sitting on a chair with your arm resting on the vanity table (full of plushies you pushed away), she was able to place a hand on your back in an attempt to reassure you.

“I’m serious, it’ll be fixed in like, a few days. Are you gonna sit here your entire life?”

“Do you know what I heard when I came back here? The white haired one, she said; ‘why’s the training range out of order?’”

Neon knew you were referring to Jett. And yeah, duh, said range was most of the agents’ favourite spot to chill, other than the cafeteria. So putting out of order on your first day… Mortifying, to say the least.

“It was an honest mistake, Y/N. Nobody’s mad over it. Also we have like, a bunch of robots to take care of stuff around here.”

“I’m not leaving this room, Tala! When I meet those other people, I’ll probably pancake them! The only person who I sorta made a good impression on was Yoru, and that was its own brand of embarrassing…”

Neon took a step back and stroked her chin, suddenly falling into silence for the next few seconds.

Of course, being overwhelmed with the fact you’d crushed a portion of the base, even though Harbour insisted it was his fault for not bringing you out sooner, it took you a moment to realise that she was brewing one of her familiar plans.

Then, she took out her phone and gave you her back, taking a few steps away. And you couldn’t help but let curiosity get the best of you.

“Tala, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Nothing…” 

Ignoring the dozen of messages she’d already received from her friends when they noticed her and your disappearance, she quickly opened Yoru’s (empty) DMs and began rapidly typing. Of course, of all people, he’d be the last to ask about your whereabouts.

‘HEY’

Surprisingly, he went online and saw the message pretty fast.

‘HELP ME GET HER OUT????’

‘SHE DOESNT WANT TO LEAVE MY ROOM CUS OF THE RANGE STUFF’

‘tf do u want me to do’

“It’s this stupid hand!”

You suddenly called out, grabbing your numb wrist and tossing it on the table like it wasn’t a part of your body. And under the sharp rays of the beach image she’d set to your right, it managed to highlight the roots inside. A few had grown thicker than your very fingers, and travelled through your entire arm towards your shoulder. Clothes concealed the rest of the details, but did you want to know what it looked like?

Thanks to the medicine, it prevented the bracelet from emitting scent. Otherwise the whole room would stink of electricity or whatever Neon said earlier.

“I wish I could just chop it off! I can go with one hand in life, why shouldn’t I?! I can switch to using my left one, anyway!” 

Neon, while texting, laughed to herself.

“Not that I’m saying you should, but– why don’t you? Again, I’m not saying you should!”

You sat back with a deep sigh. Admittedly, you would never willingly amputate your arm. You weren’t that desperate. Or brave.

“Viper said the thing’s implanted in my nervous system, or something. It’s stuck to my brain now.”

“Unlucky…”

She nervously mumbled, continuously spamming Yoru with texts upon texts as you spoke.

“Hey, so, unrelated, how do you feel about Sage?”

“Sage? That healer one?”

Neon nodded and turned to your gaze, setting her phone to silent so that you wouldn’t hear the incoming notifications. She watched you shrug and turn your gaze to the string of pictures and posters hung up in front of you.

“I didn’t see much of her, but she’s nice, I guess. Why’s it always the healers who are nice?”

“What?”

“What?”

“Nothing! Okay, how about this. We talk to Sage, and since she’s nice and stuff, maybe she can help you out?”

You stared at her for a few seconds, before standing up and walking towards the centrepiece of the room, the haven of her plushes and freedom to do the most impossible gymnastics in her sleep.

“Thanks, but I think it’s better if I head to bed.”

“Wait, wait, think about it! She does stuff with her hands, you do stuff with your hands, it’s a match! Right?”

You plopped yourself onto the bed. And like a cocoon, you wrapped the blankets around you, completely concealing yourself. Neon let out a defeated groan.

“Goodnight, Tala.”

“Bah, you’re such a grandma! Who sleeps at nine?”

“Goodnight!”

You announced, and finally convinced her to give up.

She turned towards the door and closed the lights, before giving you one last look.

“I’m gonna introduce them to you, anyway. When you leave this room, they’ll all know who you are!”

“Sure, whatever.”

“I’m warning you!”

Among the maze you formed with the blanket, you somehow managed to slither your responsive hand out to give her a wave, earning a giggle from her.

“Is that permission granted? Thanks! I won’t disappoint you!”

And with that, the door slammed shut, miniscule particles of dust settling after the impact.

#valorant #x reader #fanfiction #yoru x reader #valorant fanfiction #valorant oneshots #yoru #female reader #yoru x f reader #yoru x female reader #valorant yoru #valorant x reader #valorant imagines #ryo kiritani #valorant yoru x reader #valorant yoru x f reader #harbour #neon #valorant neon #valorant harbour #valorant sage #valorant viper #sage

[lynaerith]

Chapter 127 and Possibilities for Mikaela's Character Progression

i'm trying to piece together my thoughts on how this is supposed to be developing our understanding of Mika's character, and what this means for his overall character arc.

Time and time again, we witness Mika's selfless actions—and how far he's willing to push himself just to ensure that the people he cares about are safe. We've already seen Mika kill himself on three separate occasions: and each time has been of his own volition and sacrifice.

I saw someone on Twitter mention that perhaps the moral theme of ONS will turn out to be that Yu must learn to let go of Mika, but I don't think this is the case.

Yu has always had a passive role in relation to every time Mika has decided to off himself. As a homunculus, he was kicked out of the fighting area between Mikaela and Paimon; as an empty vessel, he simply waited for Sika Madu to resurrect Mikaela; as a human, he was ordered/forced by child Mika to run away, and then forced to watch vampire Mika give his life to protect him.

In other words, Yu has never had a choice on whether he could "keep" Mika around, because he was never actively partaking in the choice.

Moreover, I think that what this means for our current Mika, is that he must actually learn to be selfish. He must learn to put himself before others.

Every time Mika has died, in one way or another, it was for someone else. Mika choses to die, time and time again, because he has this self-perceived notion that the happiness and well-being of other's whom he cares deeply about is above his own.

I think this also ties into Mika's horrendous self-image and self-worth—which we see mostly when Mika is a vampire, and briefly as a demon.

Of course, this brings up a lot of questions as to why Kagami handeled vampire Mika the way he did for so long, but I digress.

Throughout the entire story of ONS, Mikaela has always been selfless; not just in death, but also in life. He gives himself up to Ferid to provide for his orphan family, he holds Seraph Yu back from killing his squad, he comes to the aid of the Shinoa squad despite quarreling, etc.

So, I think that now—especially because not once do we ever see demon Mika's face in chapter 127 as the entire ordeal occurs—Mika must realize he can't be selfless. He can't just keel over and die for others. He needs to start being selfish and wanting things: he needs to want to live. It's ironic, because Yu even tells Mika when they reunite in chapter 36 that he won't listen to anyone who so easily throws their life away.

Perhaps Mika's learned selfishness will play a key role in ensuring Yu is able to resurrect both humanity and Mika. Selfishness does share a similar weight to the seven sins biblically, and given just how biblical ONS is, perhaps sin itself will aid in the ordeal.

Anyways :') Please feel free to add your own commentary in reblogs/comments, offer your own insights or counterpoints. This is invitation for discussion!

#owari no seraph #seraph of the end #ons #owari no serafu #mikaela hyakuya #chapter 127 #owari no seraph manga

[outofangband]

(Just some more free form Maedhros post Angband thoughts as I work on revising my more detailed trauma posts! As always more can be found in the post Angband tag

Note: I now have a specific tag for the status and conditions of former prisoners in Beleriand in addition to my post Angband tag. It’s “but ever the Noldor feared”. There’s obviously overlap between this and my post Angband tags because the ways trauma manifests and how it’s understood or misunderstood contributes to the dynamics but I wanted to have a specific tag for it!

Semi related post

Written in part for @nelyoslegalteam for always being so kind about my Maedhros content

but the shadow of his pain was on his heart

This is one of the only lines we receive with regards to Maedhros’s ordeal in Angband. Despite how brief it is I find it so poignant and evocative.

Beleriand lies in the shadow of Angband and that shadow lives in the hearts of those who know intimately that place of horror

A shadow darkens, it envelops, it obscures, and it does everything. Maedhros’s pain, the fear and grief and anger and shame that now live within him, can at times seem to eclipse all that he does and is.

Maedhros’s memories are glass and he cannot hold them without bringing blood, sharp and fragile as though contained something that would shatter around his thoughts and feelings when they came close to the surface. Often pieces would dig in so one word spoken, one finger upon his neck, one whiff of the suffocating smell of blood and heat and iron would embed itself in him until he wanted nothing more than oblivion. The throne room floor, the chains around his limbs and his neck. The voice of the Moringotto.

It could take him as suddenly as the sun obscured, the weight of his body as the ghost of his chains choked him.

And to others. The shadow of his pain is in his heart and upon his bearing; even years after there is pain in his steps on certain days, if you know how to see it.

(just a side note: the description of Tulkas's feelings seeing Melkor in Morgoth's Ring, how it "clouded his mirth" is genuinely such a good description of trauma even if it was intended that way)

The scrutiny that former thralls are subjected to becomes another shadow over him, one that he is perpetually aware of. Even when he has done nothing to cause any to doubt his loyalty, even when he pushes himself to the brink of collapse to fight and plan against the enemy, there are those who will never trust one who has returned from the pits of hell, who hold that he still lives against him or believe he simply wears the face of one of the Eldar

And for all that he is still fundamentally Maedhros, there are those who will see only the ways he has changed from the memories or stories of him that came before

The ways that one survives in Angband do not fade once one is no longer physically confined there. Angband seeks to strip away everything that one is and the fight to reclaim it is vicious, agonizing, and unsightly. The shame that weighs upon survivors is melded with the mistrust and hostility with which they are viewed with by others.

Survivors are known to steal (because nothing can be theirs and they do not trust that they will be given anything without a terrible price), to lie (because they have been forced to choke down the truth when it might lead to further pain, and so much leads to pain), they are known to attack even their own kin (because they are so very afraid).

Maedhros is not like this. He does not lie (not that might be detected) or steal and if he does not any longer attack others out of the fear they might not see

And his status, both before and after his imprisonment absolutely ease this particular burden. He might be among kinslaying nobles but they are nobles nonetheless and the mistrust and even hostility that is felt towards him, specifically regarding his captivity, is certainly mitigated by this. But it still reaches him.

His kinship to others who have been in the Hells of iron is a precarious thing. He can use it to his advantage at times and it can be used against him.

And as another shadow, post Angband there is always the ever present fear of imprisonment again. It ranges from a creeping dread to a visceral, desperate panic that can override all strategy and reason. Especially after some years of recovering and of recovering himself, there is the profound resolve that he cannot return to what he was there and that any violence or death, including and at times perhaps especially his own, is preferable to imprisonment and powerlessness to the extent that he suffered in Angband.

He will not go back to that again even if it means becoming unrecognizable in new ways.

#the silmarillion #maedhros #musing and meta #post Angband #in the Iron hell #yes I used the phrase sharp and fragile on that one Aerin fic but the context is different #so leave me alone #but ever the Noldor feared

[velidewrites]

To get back what the Cauldron has taken from her, Elain Archeron makes a deal with Prythian’s most dangerous enemy.

Now, a servant of a cruel Death God, Elain must make sure her efforts are not discovered—especially not by someone tied to her darkening heart by a golden thread.

Someone like her mate.

Notes: My humble offering for @elucienweekofficial. This fic is a post-ACOSF story — and very close to my heart as it’s based on the very first one-shot I’ve ever written.

Tags: Post-ACOSF, Canon Compliant, NSFW

Read on AO3 || Chapter 1 || Masterlist

Chapter 3 - You're Not Like The Others

Lucien watched Vassa carefully as she leaned back in her seat, arms stretched out before her as she examined her shimmering skin.

“How do you feel?” he asked, eyeing the soft, blueish glow that seemed to shine from her very bones—in all his centuries on earth, Lucien had never seen anything quite like it.

Vassa considered, looking over her body once more before finally meeting his gaze. “Cold,” she said, though her voice betrayed no concern.

“Here,” Jurian said, rising from his seat to peel the jacket off his arms. Vassa smiled, stopping him with a lift of her hand. “It’s alright,” she said. “It’s not unpleasant, it feels…nice, actually.” She took another breath, shoulders loosening as though a thousand knots within them had just been undone. Slowly, Jurian receded back to his chair, his brown eyes sharp and trailing every single one of Vassa’s movements.

“You’re supposed to rest now,” Lucien reminded her. “Nuan said an hour at least—your body needs time to absorb the elixir.” Beside him, Jurian grunted his agreement.

Vassa looked at Lucien. “I’m afraid your mate has other plans for me this evening.”

Jurian glowered at him—as though Elain being so hell-bent on staying at the manor had somehow been his fault. The way Lucien saw it, the quicker they got this whole ordeal over with, the sooner she would be gone—and the sooner could he go back to his useless routine of pretending she did not torment his every thought.

Because she had—even more so now that he’d finally, finally spoken to her after months of seeing her only in his dreams. Their conversation—if he could even call it that—just a few hours ago had lit a match somewhere deep in his chest Lucien thought had long been darkened to ash, and he was more determined now than ever to find out just how bright it could truly burn. Every visit, every Solstice, Lucien had been presented with the same blurry picture—a polite, quiet Elain, so out of place in her new world that she needed space to figure things out on her own. Lucien had been more than happy to give it to her—until now, when the picture sharpened and he finally looked at it with new eyes.

There was nothing quiet about Elain Archeron, thank the Gods. She hadn’t expected to see him and he could tell the sentiment from her face as clear as day—he’d caught her off guard, like a startled animal resorting to its most primal instincts to defend itself. She’d shown her claws, the roaring that simmered beneath her pretty dress, begging to be let out.

Lucien was practically itching to be the one to do it.

“You don’t have to be so damn stubborn about this, you know,” Jurian told her, earning a look that, had he not been slaughtering on the battlefield his whole life, would’ve sent a regular man running.

Vassa said, “If Elain can find the answers we need, then I’m willing to try it again. And again, if necessary. However many times we need.”

Lucien leaned forward, propping his chin up on his palm. “Not too many, let’s hope.”

Vassa angled her head, her fiery hair shifting with the movement. “Does she know where you’ve been this morning?”

“Not yet. We got, ah…sidetracked.” His face flushed slightly as the words came out of his mouth, realising the message probably implied something entirely different than what he’d intended.

Sure enough, Jurian’s dark brows rose. “Have you—”

“No,” he cut in sternly. “But we…talked.”

“I wonder how that went,” Jurian murmured, the words rewarded with yet another look from Vassa.

Lucien muttered, “It doesn’t matter.” Because it didn’t. As much as he might have enjoyed seeing her true colours come to life, it could not have been more clear that Elain had hardly shared that sentiment. They might have spoken for the first time in forever—the conversation perhaps longer than any of the scraps he’d ever been given with her—but as soon as her mission here was over, Lucien had no doubt in his mind Elain would retreat to the shadows of the Night Court, never to light that match in his heart again.

Vassa hummed. “If you say so,” she said, resting her back against her seat again as her eyes closed in content. “This feels really good,” she admitted, that blue light still coating her tired features. “Maybe I’ll rest for ten minutes before your mate cuts me open again.”

Jurian snorted. “I got this,” he said to Lucien. “You go get your mate.”

———

Elain shifted on the couch nervously, watching as blood began to drip down Vassa’s hand. The carpet was still stained from yesterday, a rusted sort of red dotting the thick fabric and forming a pattern that, if she angled her head just right, she could’ve sworn looked just like a bird in flight. Elain sighed, well aware that, especially with the time ticking down her very tight schedule, she was definitely growing paranoid.

“Your turn,” Vassa’s voice pulled her from her thoughts, transfixed on the thin stream of liquid still filling the crease in the firebird queen’s palm. She handed her the knife, the steel surprisingly heavy in her hands, and lifted the sharp side of the blade to her smooth unassuming skin.

A low snarl ripped free from Lucien’s throat, and Elain’s head snapped up to meet his eyes.

He didn’t return her gaze, though, the pools of russet and gold flashing a sizzling flame that threatened to spill and burn the whole manor to the ground as he stared at the knife. His hands balled into fists at his sides, his knuckles bone-white and his body tense enough that she knew he was barely keeping himself seated, the beast in his chest purring out its loud sounds of protest.

That same beast, as Elain knew, lived in her own chest—though she’d managed to keep it dormant after the first and last time it awoke, silently raging as it took in Lucien’s bloodied clothes after the final battle. Elain tore her gaze off Lucien, slicing through her palm with a straight, clean cut.

That rage, that primal ferocity that roared in him to protect her—it wasn’t real. Their beasts—both of them—eventually, would be tamed into submission.

“What’s wrong with you?” Jurian murmured to his friend, leaning over the couch, Elain’s arched, Fae ears catching every word.

Lucien did not deign him with a response.

Jurian turned to Vassa. “Remember, you don’t have to—”

“We’ve talked about this,” Vassa said, the words apparently dismissal enough.

Elain nodded, offering the general a tentative smile she hoped masked her impatience. “This will never work if you don’t trust me,” she offered. Come on, her mind silently urged, tell the where it is. Tell me where you hid it.

Jurian opened his mouth, but Elain was quicker—she reached out to Vassa, her own blood dripping to join the carpet’s strange pattern. “Ready?”

Vassa loosed a breath. “Alright.”

The queen slipped her hand into Elain’s, two streams of blood joining into one.

The world flashed again, a white-hot flame consuming every inch of the room until it all became a bright, scorching nothingness.

But this time, Elain was prepared.

She navigated the space as though she’d been born for the light, her eyes now looking beyond what the fire veiled. There she was, Vassa standing atop a lustrous surface and looking up to the sun.

Elain looked down right at her.

Vassa’s eyes were closed—she could not see, not here, only feel as Elain’s light warmed her body, golden-brown skin shimmering under its power. But then, the sun intensified, and the surface beneath her feet trembled, as though the light had become too strong to reflect. Elain burned now, no longer a comforting presence above the queen, but a threat—beams of a scaling fire shooting to pierce through her, with Vassa’s heart their one and only aim.

Vassa’s brows knitted, her nose scrunching at the shift in the air—and her eyelids fluttered. In a second, those eyes would meet Elain’s—the last face the firebird queen would see before she burned to her death.

Elain.

Everything stopped.

Elain, please— a pause, as though the voice had choked on a breath. You have to save her. Help me save her, I—I can’t live without her.

The voice, hoarse and strained, echoed through the chambers of her very soul. Why did you do it, Elain?

The surface trembled again and blurred, shifting into something solid beneath Vassa as she fell, her knees hitting the ground hard.

“No,” Elain’s mouth moved on its own accord. “No, please—I—I didn’t mean to hurt anyone—”

A low, smooth chuckle. Well done, my sweet.

Elain jerked away.

“Elain!” Lucien called, by her side in an instant as if she’d frightened him—as if he cared. “Elain—are you—what the fuck did just—”

“Lucien, I need you here!” another voice—Jurian—reached her as the room began to come into view.

She had to have stood up at some point, and abruptly from the looks of it—the couch she’d sat on had been pushed back two feet, leaving four, long scrapes in the wooden floor. The back of her legs pulsed slightly from the impact, forgetting the immortal strength that rested within her muscles, just waiting to be harnessed. Elain looked over the space—not a lick of flame in sight—until she rested her gaze on Vassa, where the mortal queen hissed at the raw, bubbling skin of her open palm.

Lucien leaned over her quickly, a soft glow Elain recognised as similar to the magic used by Madja back in Night as he cast it over the burns. Elain looked down to her own hands—and, to her horror, found them perfectly smooth, not a single sign of the fire’s touch on them.

This, Elain decided, did not look good.

Her mind raced in search of an explanation she could offer—a lie she could come up with on the spot, certain that if any of the Band of Exiles learned of what she’d just seen, they would drag her down to the Nolans’ old basement and lock her up for all eternity.

Jurian, Cauldron bless him, gripped Vassa’s arm, forcing the stunned queen to look up at him at last. “Tell me exactly what you saw.”

Vassa blinked, a fog scattering from her cerulean eyes. “I…” she looked at Elain, frowning.

Elain could not breathe.

“It felt…strange. I couldn’t see anything but light—but I felt it, warm on my skin.” She looked down to her palm—to the new, gleaming skin, no burn marks in sight—and added, “It grew hotter—and then everything stopped.”

Elain had to keep from crying out in relief.

Lucien looked at her, an incredulous expression creasing his scarred face. “And you?”

Lie, that silky voice within her purred. Lie and take what you came here for.

Elain looked back, her attention falling to the deep wounds in the floor she’d caused. There was a time when lifting a heavy, iron chair had been a struggle. Now, she could probably lift a thousand of them.

She forced herself to look away, her decision made simple. “That sounds about right,” she said to their expectant faces, then cleared her throat. “Except—I could actually see Vassa standing under the sun, looking up to the sky. In her human form.”

Vassa gasped quietly, Jurian squeezing her shoulder tighter.

“She was holding something,” Elain lied, fighting to keep her throat from closing up. “A small, rectangular shape.” The two males behind Vassa exchanged glances.

“What was the colour?” Vassa breathed.

“It was too bright—I couldn’t see it very well,” Elain said. There was little doubt in her mind that they’d never hand the box over to her—her only resort was prying its location from Vassa’s mind. She added carefully then, “Perhaps another vision…”

“Can you focus your Sight on it?” Jurian asked. “See…see what it was exactly? If it was…open?””

“I…” Shit, shit shit. They did have it—they’d tried to open it, too, apparently to no effect. “I could try. But Vassa…” she looked at the queen and offered a sympathetic smile. “You were smiling.”

Elain made a show of lowering her gaze to her palms slowly, an exasperated sigh sounding deep from her chest. “I don’t understand why this keeps happening.” The queen shook her head, still seemingly in awe at the Seer’s previous words. Jurian, too absorbed by looking at Vassa with an emotion she couldn’t quite discern, did not return her gaze, either.

Lucien looked at her wordlessly, his silence almost palpable in her chest. He was not a daemati, but Elain checked her mental shields anyway, making sure they were still intact despite his sharp scrutiny.

But it wasn’t her mind his presence seemed to slither into, but somewhere else—prodding at that place beneath her ribs that could ruin everything had he only decided to disobey the order she’d given him a mere few hours ago.

After all, there was a reason Elain had been working so hard to avoid him—months upon months of hard work, of carefully selected words and bold, if not desperate, strategies—a triumph she’d thought she’d cemented at the last Solstice.

Apparently not. 

Lucien, to her relief, stopped despite the golden cord around her ribs calling out his name in a quiet song. She stifled the sound immediately, levelling her eyes on his own, praying that her expression would not betray a thing.

Finally, Lucien turned to Jurian—to Vassa. “I need to go,” he said, his voice tight. “Don’t wait up with dinner.”

———

Lucien’s reaction—or rather, the lack of it—made her stir through the rest of the night.

She had decided to forgo staying up the way Jurian and Vassa did—especially when doing so meant having the house practically all to herself throughout the day. Elain had begun taking mental note of the rooms she’d already managed to search, crossing them out as a potential hiding spot one by one until she decided the ground floor was not, perhaps, her best shot.

She could only pray the box was not somewhere she’d never dare to go. Like Lucien’s bedroom.

Elain knew exactly where he slept by scent alone, a warm morning breeze infused by something like hot caramel dripping down his skin. She could smell it in the entire house, its trail infuriatingly following her no matter how far she’d tried to escape—a constant reminded of the thorn in her side.

A silent grimace twisted her face as she remembered he’d used a smilier analogy to describe her a few hours ago—and with that, Elain promptly decided to go to sleep.

At least in his absence, there was no steady thrumming lulling her into dreams she could not allow her mind to drift into again. Lucien’s heart had a quiet beat that no one else seemed to hear—in the manor, or even the House of Wind back when the two of them had briefly occupied it at the same time. Elain could hear it well enough, though—chanting the same words over and over again, as though repeating them persistently would make them any less of a lie.

Mate. You are mine and I am yours.

Elain groaned into her pillow, keeping her face there to inhale the clean scent of cotton instead.

The softness of the fabric seemed to have done its job well enough, because Elain’s thoughts eventually slowed and her jaw relaxed, lips parting slightly to take a quiet breath. A few more and she felt herself falling—her body sinking into the mattress, into the darkness enveloping her slowly…

Elain squinted as she spotted a light somewhere at its very end. It shone a soft glow, inviting her closer.

She began moving through the shadows, thick and stalling her every step as though intent on keeping her away from the light. But Elain knew, with a certainty she didn’t think she’d ever felt before, that she was meant to follow that light—that once she reached it, she would never get lost in the darkness again.

As she approached the end—or perhaps, the very beginning—the light became clearer, taking up a shape. It formed into muscle first—hard and golden-brown as it built a tall, powerful frame. A broad chest, with a silky white fabric draped over it, and an arm adorned by a golden cuff, slithering around the impressive bicep.

Elain could not tear her gaze away—she found that she didn’t want to. The light was far too warm, far too compelling, for her to ever want to be near anything else.

But then, the light was given a face.

It twirled a bright russet and a glittering gold, looking down on her from beneath dark lashes. Elain backed up a step, darkness already swooshing thickly behind her—ready to wrap its tendrils around her body and pull her in, never to return again.

Those strong arms reached out for her, finding their way around her waist, grounding her and offering her safety. She found herself leaning into them—into the sculpted chest as she noticed the very light that seduced her had come exactly from it. It shone quietly beneath his skin, and Elain could’ve sworn that if she focused, she could hear its gentle thrum.

She placed a hand on that light, the feel of it washing over her like the first ray of sunlight as it rose over the night sky. Elain looked up then—to meet those eyes of russet and gold, realising she no longer wanted to back away.

Lucien smiled down at her, his large hand covering her own. “Listen, Elain,” he said, his voice filled with an emotion that made her own heart ache. “It beats only for you.”

She opened her mouth to answer him—to place his hand on her chest, too, perhaps—when a flitting sound sounded behind her.

Wings.

Elain jolted awake.

Her gaze immediately snapped to the windowsill—to where she’d forgotten to close the window to her bedroom fully—and found nothing but a small, chirping sparrow, taking its rest happily before resuming into the fading night.

Elain sighed in relief and went back to sleep.

———

Feyre’s midnight-sharp talons brushed against the gates to Rhys’s mind, a solid wall of impenetrable darkness.

The touch was met with twinkling laughter. Yes, Feyre darling?

A picture flashed down the bond, and Feyre smiled at the sight of Nyx, cooing happily in Rhys's arms. His big, blue eyes looked into his father’s, widening as though he saw the whole wide sky inside them. Perhaps he had.

Feyre caressed the sight down the bond, then stored it deep in a quiet, glowing chamber of her heart. Actually, she started, no longer wishing to disrupt them, I think I can handle this one myself.

A low hum sounded his agreement. I have no doubt that you can. She watched as he carefully set the baby down, Nyx’s small wings rising on instinct to accommodate the new position. Still, allow me to listen in? He’d comply with whatever answer she gave him—at her side or in the shadows, her mate would step back if  that was what she wished.

As if she ever could. We are a team, she told him.

Rhys glanced at their son. That we are, he agreed softly.

Feyre smiled, then blinked, the image slowly fading away to be replaced by the palette of cool greens and mahogany woods of the drawing room. She sent the location down the bond. Gwyn is here, she told her mate, smiling at the priestess sitting opposite from her, teal eyes watching the silent conversation curiously.

Rhys appeared a moment later, foregoing winnowing straight into the room for a quiet knock on the door signalling his presence. Gwyn stood up as he entered, bowing slightly to the High Lord the same way she had as Feyre let her in.

“Please, don’t stop on my account,” he told her in a manner of greeting before taking his seat beside Feyre. “Where is Nesta?” he asked her.

Feyre huffed. “Running late.”

Rhys’s mouth twisted into a shit-eating grin. Who would’ve thought freshly mated couples would’ve bothered you this much, Feyre darling.

Prick.

As though summoned by the wind carrying her name, Nesta suddenly appeared, reaching them from the doorway in a few quick strides, a heavy scent wrapped tightly around her skin. Gwyn, apparently well-acquainted with such entrances, rolled her eyes as her friend plopped on the cushions beside her.

Rhys sighed deeply. “Cassian?”

Nesta waved a hand. “Otherwise occupied.”

“What does that mean?” Feyre frowned.

Nesta snickered, more to herself than the rest of them gathered, “It means he is to remain exactly where I’d left him until I’m available again.”

Please, Rhys’s voice slid into her head again, for my sake, don’t ask her any more questions.

Feyre teased, I only worry for poor Cassian, of course.

Rhys’s expression looked pained. Something tells me Cassian is right where he wants to be.

Gwyn, thank the Mother, cleared her throat, giving Nesta a look that was almost scolding. “Shall we, then?”

Rhys looked at her as though she’d just declared world peace. “Please.”

The priestess chuckled, leaning over the coffee table. “Merril, unsurprisingly, was a dead end—but I believe I was able to find something interesting,” she said and, with a flick of her wrist, a stack of documents appeared, the fragrant smell of ancient scrolls mercifully cleansing the room. She looked at them both, meeting Feyre’s gaze directly. “What do you know of the fourth Dread Trove?”

She felt her mate’s surprise flicker down the bond.

“Next to nothing,” Feyre answered for him. “As far as history is concerned, there are only three,” she added, recalling Rhys’s words from months ago.

“Amren had once mentioned it,” Rhys said, Gwyn’s shoulders rolling back at the name of their Second as if on instinct. “There were rumours of it—rumours from her time. Whispers that it had been lost, or perhaps Unmade.” He angled his head, considering. “I believe that’s about the extent of it.”

Gwyn nodded. “That is correct. I was hardly able to gather any information on the existing Troves, let alone one only ever spoken about in rumours.” She shuffled through a small stack of papers, a silvery glint of a bracelet catching Feyre’s eye as her hands moved. “The library at the House of Wind holds very little information on magical objects or artifacts. Most of the priestesses choose to specialise in active history, or the events that shaped our cultures—our languages, our music—and as such, we have never had the need to collect knowledge that might have been more useful to other researchers.” She frowned. “Or so Clotho has said, at least.” Rhys nodded, though something about his shimmering gaze told Feyre the library’s collection would soon be undergoing a vast improvement.

“I wasn’t exactly hopeful,” Gwyn continued, “until I remembered something Nesta had told me about months ago. A vision, sent to her by one of the Prison’s…residents.”

“Lanthys,” Feyre whispered, recalling her sister’s horrifying encounter with the deathly mist-god. She glanced at Nesta, her sister’s expression almost bored as she casually sipped from her tea.

The priestess nodded again. “Nesta recalled a fourth object on the Dread Troves’ altar.” She looked at Nesta expectantly.

Nesta set down her cup. “I could not see much,” she admitted, “the vision was veiled in mist. But I remember the gleam of it to this day—a bone, aged and worn-out, yet still containing ancient, powerful magic.” Her hand tightened on the cup for only a moment. “It called to me. Cauldron-made to Cauldron-made. There was no denying it.”

Rhys asked, “You believe the fourth Trove is that bone?”

“It’s our only lead,” Gwyn said, “And, as it appears, not entirely a dead end.” She lifted a piece of parchment, a yellowed image painted above a text in a langue Feyre did not follow. “This is an old myth about the Seers—ones from so long before our time the exact date still remains in question,” she explained. “It seems their talents could be controlled by music—they listened to specific tones and melodies to clear their minds of the fog, usually clouding parts of their visions—and, sometimes, to even alleviate the pain.”

Nesta stilled. “Pain?”

Gwyn nodded. “It appears pain is a common side effect to the Sight. This text claims Seers are known to experience the physical impact of whatever the Sight is showing them—for example, foreseeing a stabbing might result in a Seer feeling a sharp-like sensation in their gut. Or wherever else the person would be stabbed, I suppose.”

Nesta looked aghast at the news. She looked at Feyre. “Did you know about this?”

Feyre could only stare—at her sister, then at Rhys. “No,” she whispered.

Elain had once foreseen Hybern’s twin Ravens. Had she…?

You can’t think about that right now, Rhys’s gentle voice sounded in her mind again like a soothing touch. We can only help Elain by moving forward now.

Feyre nodded, though her throat still felt tight.

“How does this tie to the fourth Trove?” Rhys asked Gwyn, ever so patient.

The priestess slid the parchment across the table. “Take a look at what the eldest Seer is holding.”

Feyre glanced down and stilled.

“Is that…” she started, the question dying on her tongue.

“A bone,” Gwyn agreed, finishing it for her. “According to this text, it was the eldest Seer’s family heirloom, taken from the body of his ancestor, that he used to enhance his abilities.” She glanced at the two rulers across from her. “It could not only clear the fog, but allow him to navigate his visions as he pleased, stay within them for as long as he needed, sometimes replaying it over and over before its meaning became clear to him at last. It is also said,” the priestess added, “that the Bone could be used to induce visions, allowing the Seer to find answers to whatever questions pressing him at the time.”

Feyre sucked in a breath. “This—this could change everything.”

Gwyn’s freckled face seemed grim. “Unfortunately, this is all I was able to find on the Bone, and even it being a Dread Trove is only my theory. The myth does not stem from a different, original text—finding anything even remotely related to this story would require the aid of researchers far more experienced than I am.”

Feyre looked at Rhys.

“Please don’t tell me you’re actually considering this,” Nesta sighed, seemingly reading the silent words from her sister’s face.

Feyre narrowed her gaze. “You may not like him, but he is perhaps the only ally we have that we could trust with this.”

Nesta nodded. “I know—I’ll go.”

Rhys straightened, as though another voice had just requested permission into his mind. “I believe that won’t be necessary,” he said after a second of a pause.

The entryway flashed auburn, revealing none other than—

“No need to start brooding, Nesta Archeron,” Lucien drawled, Nesta’s eyes flashing an ice-cold flame. His gaze slid to Feyre. “And here I thought I was the one bringing the news,” he added, Rhys apparently having already filled him in on the conversation mind-to-mind.

Rhys smiled at Gwyn, who gaped at the newest guest—at the golden eye and the cruel scar slashed across it. “Thank you, Gwyn. Your help has been more invaluable than I can put into words”

Gwyn’s returning smile was tight. “If only there was an easier way to do this.”

Feyre sighed, resting her back against the soft seat. “I really miss the Bone Carver.”

———

Lucien returned the next day, his face unreadable enough to make Elain shift on her feet.

She did not know where he’d gone that had taken up an entire night and half the day—but the looming speculation that his absence had something to do with Elain grew heavier and heavier over her with each passing minute he was gone.

Jurian was already awake—had been since midday, actually, a fact that made Elain have to keep from gritting her teeth as the general seemed to have made it his mission to follow her around the house every step of the way. His mistrust towards his friend’s mate was nearly palpable, and no amount of polite smiles or I’m just going to go and find something to read had managed to keep him away as she tried to search for the godsdamned box.

Elain was growing more and more desperate. She’d been given a week, and a task that had originally seemed doable enough (find a way into the manor, search for the stolen box, deliver it back to its original owner) was very quickly proving more difficult than anticipated. The box was here—she could sense it now, its magic calling out her name and filling her nostrils with the mouldy scent of earth. Vassa had hidden it well enough, though—Elain could not, for the life of her, find its location based on scent alone, silently cursing herself for not using all those months to ask Rhysand’s shadowy wraiths for basic tracking training. What good would all that baking do to her now?

The most important thing was that she remained at the house—that she kept distracting its occupants with a smile after smile, vision after vision, spilled blood after spilled blood, until she finally found the one thing she’d been asked to do and be rewarded with, quite literally, everything.

By the end of this week, Elain Archeron was going to, once again, become human.

And then…then she could finally live.

When Lucien found her, she was lounging in the drawing room, her favourite childhood book she’d found in the study propped up innocently on her knees as Jurian watched her closely from a corner. She sat up immediately, dread building in her chest all over again as she met Lucien’s hardened stare.

I know what you did, he could say. I’ve looked into your soul and found the rot you’ve invited into it. I know who you are, Elain Archeron, and I won’t ever let you become who you’re supposed to be.

Lucien sighed deeply. “Pack your things, sunshine. We’re going to the Day Court.”

Elucien Week Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added!): @melting-houses-of-gold @areyoudreaminof @fieldofdaisiies @kingofsummer93 @witchlingsandwyverns @gracie-rosee @stickyelectrons @selesera @sv0430 @vulpes-fennec @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @screaming-opossum @autumndreaming7 @sunshinebingo @spell-cleavers @starfall-spirit @lectoradefics @this-is-rochelle @goldenmagnolias @bookeater34 @capbuckyfalcon @betterthaneveryword @tasha2627 @tenaciousdiplomatloverprune

#elucienweek2023 #elucien #pro elucien #elain x lucien #elain archeron #elain acotar #lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #elucien fic #elucien fanfic #elucien fanfiction #acotar fanfic #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #my writing

[loudmound]

jingling miserably across the floor to bring you yet another goddamn post about james sunderland (and the broader themes of sh2 in general)

part one: silent hill is the world's worst exposure therapist and that's honestly it

for starters, i think it's best to get out of the way the notion that the town itself is actively punishing its inhabitants is... silly. it's just silly. when you operate by the logic that silent hill is punishing james for what he did to mary, that logic quickly becomes concerning when we take angela and eddie into account.

does angela deserve to be tormented by a manifestation of the sexual abuse she endured from her father? does eddie deserve to be tormented by manifestations of the emotional and verbal abuse he faced from his bullies? if you have any modicum of compassion, you'd say no.

but we cannot then say with a handwave that "oh well angela and eddie don't deserve it, but james does! because james did something bad!" and like... yes, i do agree that there is a sort of sliding scale of moral justification and negligibility given each of these characters' acts of violence, but all of these people did such to escape their circumstances. and, most importantly, angela, eddie, and james all feel like they deserve to be punished in some way, shape, or form.

angela's been so horrifically abused that she's resigned to the notion that she deserved what happened to her. eddie's been so horrifically abused that he's resigned to the notion that he is just a fat piece of shit. and, with james, while having a tangible distance from any kind of abuse, feels he deserves to be punished for killing mary; something that he'd unwittingly repressed to even keep himself upright. he drove to silent hill to kill himself—to be with mary in death in the last place they were happy together.

and that right there is exactly what silent hill is doing; silent hill is a functionally amoral entity, i'd argue. it does not care whether its inhabitants live or die, it does not care about punishment or exoneration, it is merely drawing from their psyches and projecting manifestations as a means of confrontation, and seeks to see what that person chooses to do in the face of the darkest and ugliest parts of themselves, traumas and all. will you succumb or will you overcome? that's the only question it cares to ask.

part two: stop pretending james is a violently misogynistic sex pest

now, this part is gonna come off as biased, because i am a james fan. i like him a lot. but i'm also not going to pretend that he's not a divisive character or that he did nothing wrong. he most certainly did. that's not the point and i don't want to come off as defending his murder of mary, nor am i trying to convince people to like him. he's a fictional guy, like and hate whomever. i don't care.

what i do care about is analysis, and some people insinuating that james killed mary for the sole, superficial, and juvenile reason that she wouldn't fuck him anymore? it truly baffles me beyond words.

i've seen this take enough times for it to be concerning; the notion of james' deed solely surrounded being denied sex and lashing out with murder because of it. if that sincerely were the case, james would be a very different man and sh2 would be a very different, markedly worse game, because how fucking one-dimensional is that? seriously, think about it for longer than 3 seconds and let it sink in how much worse that would be for sh2's story and overall message.

contrary to this belief: james loved mary! james loves mary! that's kind of the whole point, really! i'm not denying that there isn't a sexual component to the whole ordeal, there most certainly is. maria is the apex of that, as are a good handful of the monsters like the mannequins and the bubblehead nurses. hell, i'm not going to deny that there aren't shades of misogyny within these monsters' looks, either!

but these monsters aren't made for james' wanton, sexual consumption; they're a means of confrontation. they're terrifying and warped. there's a certain shame about them, too, in so far as they're manifested from a man who seems guilty about even existing as a person at all. that he even has sexual thoughts to begin with when his wife lay sick and dying in her hospital bed.

james doesn't seem particularly enthusiastic about much of anything, least of all sex. him never even alluding to such or even saying the word out loud speaks volumes to me at just the magnitude of shame he feels surrounding such a concept, when everything around him is so loudly saying that it's a part of him he's terrified to look in the face. (think of the pin-up he sees in the hospital where he mutters to himself in his head "...this is no time to be looking at a stupid poster.")

your libido doesn't screech to a halt when your significant other is terminally ill, and finding other people attractive when you're in a relationship with someone else is pretty normal, so long as those feelings don't breach the bond you have with said partner. if james fantasized about fucking the hospital nurses or whatever, so what? that's within the realm of fantasy, and i'm sure he's cognizant of such. that doesn't make him an "incel", that doesn't make him unfaithful, it makes him a regular person with a sexuality, and he feels shame for such because his partner—the one that he truly wants—is sick, dying, and sexually unavailable because of the latter facts. the audacity to think of sex at a time like this? how dare he? how disgusting of him!

(sidenote: i really don't like the conflation of the term "incel" with "misogynist". yes, incel culture at large is misogynistic, but literally anybody can be a misogynist and incels are largely self-identified. misogyny is systemic, and incels are a symptom of that. also, james has a partner and is certainly implied to have had sex before. by definition, he is not an incel. a strange, miserable man, yes, but not an incel.)

part three: james did it for so many reasons and sex wasn't one of them

james killed mary because he couldn't watch her suffer any longer. james killed mary because he wanted his life back—to be free of such a burden on his shoulders. james killed mary to be with her in death not long after, because without her, he's got nothing. together, beyond the grave, they could be happy once more.

while james is not a reliable narrator, it's impossible to me that the reason he did it was purely because he couldn't have sex with mary anymore. it's reductive and insulting to insinuate that sh2, a game about death, about grief, about guilt and loss and trauma, as well as love and sex, would have its main protagonist be a flat as a fucking board when it came to the reason he did it.

hell, i'd argue that his reasoning is more complicated than angela's and eddie's reasonings for their respective deeds because they're fucking rock solid reasonings. it's easier to empathize with an sa survivor killing their abusers and a victim of bullying finally snapping and attempting to kill their respective abusers than a man who finally got so sick of it all and killed his wife before the disease eating her from the inside out could kill her instead. there is an obvious callousness in james' deed that repels such a level of compassion, and that's perfectly reasonable. which is why it's so goddamn complicated!

it's already such a terrible thing to do to somebody else, imbued with so many reasons, both selfish and selfless, both loving and resentful, and to just write it off as "oh well james did it because he was mad he couldn't get his dick sucked anymore and silent hill was so bad for him because the town thought he deserved it <3"... see me after class.

anyways, thank you for reading. i'm gonna go the fuck to bed now.

#stormy shouts #james sunderland #silent hill #brave enough to tag james now that it's not 3am

[jojoqin]

Why the remake cabin kicks the OG’s ass -an analysis 🔎

Basically it has to do with a lot of elements. Sound, cinematic framing, how well written the entire segment is in general. All that sweet jazz. Also sorry in advance, I had to gifmaker some shitty gifs because I needed examples 😭💀

So I read up on a lot of filmmaking for this post about what makes a good set piece. At the start, the game already sets it up by subconsciously familiarizing the player with the cabin; making it one of the first areas we pass by. There’s something about how you see it in its position; in between the trees, sort of in the same center as the bridge, very by itself. Clearly it’s important. Later, the Saddler mindfuck scene at the church actually shows us why the villagers are on the chase. And it's all tied to how well realized the cult theme is in the entire story. It puts a slightly more sinister spin on the villagers' motivation compared to the og where it sometimes feels like they're purely used as obstacles.

And yes there’s actually PAYOFF this time. No more "vamanos" and the villagers just leave. Or for Luis to ask "so what now?". This time the villagers' condition gets woven into new exposition and a new goal; the Plaga ordeal inside the characters. And the end scene defines Luis role. A great set piece should have a well written purpose to advance the plot forward. And we actually experience first hand the whole hive mind thing instead of getting a 5 min Saddler monologue about it.

Talking about the technical stuff in scenes too. Like listen to the music and audio during the run up towards and after Luis closes the door, the music become this muffled droning as soon as the door is shut. It indicates that you've entered a different space that's more confined and sheltered from the outside w/o immediately breaking the ambient tension. Not necessarily an upgrade from the og but in the og, the escalating music stops because the payoff is seeing Luis. Whilst the remake still likes to remind you that you're still in a weird situation.

I also talked before how the camera loves to follow characters. In this shot you follow Leon forward and then you’re backing up behind Luis in this continuous camera movement. And see how tight the camera sticks behind Leon’s shoulder? He takes up like 75% of the frame at one point, with the camera subtly zooming in even though Luis is the focus. There’s a visceral feel in the confrontation, how its putting pressure on Luis just by how the scene is directed.

And the sound during that is like auditory storytelling. I know my audio doesn’t quite do it justice because it’s been compressed to shit so y’all might want to seek out the actual scene. But when Luis hits the wall here, the strings fade out and the sound of the rain is brought forward. Audio-wise, it’s like it’s bringing our focus to the presence of Luis and Ashley. It's also just ASMR af.

Another example of the fluid camera transition from earlier is when Ashley hides. The camera leads away from her and it follows that same “leading away” movement when it transition cuts to the window with Leon going into frame. Like look how seamless it tells action w/o having to do a lot of harsh cuts unlike the gif of the og below. The remake tends to show multiple activities either within the same shot or following a visual style so that it's easy to digest.

And holy shit, the way the music just disappears when our dudes take position here is so FUCKING GOOD. Because all you hear is the echo of the cult chanting and the ASMR patter of rain. I think of the silence as equivalent to taking a deep breath. And it’s funny because the sound effect when the scene transitions to the player is just this very intense and layered sound of exhaling. The way the camera also pulls back in the cutscene so that there’s no break from scene to gameplay just makes it so immersive.

Also those two shots we get from Leon and Luis’ perspectives before the gameplay is kinda interesting too. Very “Main Character POV” angle because the camera is positioned at the guys’ eye level, as if we the audience are directly in front of them. At that moment we sort of take the place of the characters as the player. The “it’s game time” line is so hype because it actually does feel like it’s being said to us.

I think the writing for the fight itself is way better than in the og. There's a real rhythm to how the conflict happens; a somewhat story structure. The setup, the moment things go to shit, the resolution. The setup happens in the cutscenes and as you're battling the early wave of villagers. The Plaga baddies I see as the first climax, because they only start conveniently popping up around the time you're scrambling to get the new boards. You get them up and there's your sort of downtime, the 'falling action' before things ramp up again.

There’s a clear transition to "the moment things go to shit" phase; it's all the elements working together in the entire segment. You get a visual cue which is the ladder, an auditory cue of the noise upstairs, and then you get the in-game cue from Luis. And the musical cue is particularly what the remake does best. Like often when it wants to change up the pace during a certain part, they'll simplify the track but make it a bit deeper to build up this new adrenaline.

And every big set piece needs constrasty elements to show different perspectives. I believe just the simple imagery of seeing the mob outside as you're constantly having to kick the ladder is so effective because it shows scale. It makes us actually feel that the problem is as big as it is. It's a smart show of perspective especially after starting the fight in a confined area. This part of it was kind of weird in the og. Even though there's a mob, you could always stare out some window and it'll just be a void there (probably due to the graphical limitations).

But before you even trigger the Bull Head dude's cutscene, like again, you already hear an auditory cue of him. Also his addition makes the scene a true "everything is going to shit" moment. You kinda need that enemy as a standout variety. Like the og is iconic but it's very straightforward with the ambience and the enemy encounter. In the remake, everything is an escalating bombardment to the senses. Especially on the first playthrough, at this point you're on your last leg, no heal, no shotgun/rifle ammo left, the cult chanting is overwhelmingly loud now. It's funny but also apt that when Ashley saves the guys, she's enveloped in this holy light. Even the camera angle that's positioned lower looking up visually puts her in a higher position than the audience.

#this post took me out man. it’s also just way longer than my last analysis 💀 #resident evil 4 remake #resident evil 4 #re4r #leon kennedy #re4 remake #luis serra #ashley graham re4 #re4 analysis #re4make