#mademoiselle and her camera

[liebesfraulein]

Königssee・Berchtesgaden

#königssee #berchtesgaden #bayern #deutschland #mine #mademoiselle and her camera

[romchat]

In Blossom visual analysis (ep. 1-7): How to film a gothic romance

Although I'm not completely convinced about some of the writing choices of In Blossom, I absolutely LOVE the show's production design and cinematography. @mademoiselle-red wrote a great post about how main character Pan Yue fits the gothic romantic lead archetype, and those gothic elements are not only present in the script but also in the show's visual storytelling.

Lighting

A key element of gothic romance is its atmosphere of mystery and suspense.

Something I really like about In Blossom is that despite its dark subject matter, many of its scenes take place during the day. One of the show's main themes is that appearances can be misleading and the cinematography often plays with that notion by linking light to deception and darkness to truth. Note how many of the emotionally honest beats of Yang Caiwei and Pan Yue's relationship happen at night (e.g., their couple escapades at the Li Residence, Ghost Market, and Life and Death gambling house) while fakery, corruption, and evildoing happen in the day. It's with this subversion of our expectations for light that the show creates an unsettling atmosphere.

And these lighting choices also help set up Pan Yue as a classic gothic romance anti-hero, someone the female lead, Yang Caiwei, fears but still finds herself drawn to.

Look at how Pan Yue is lit when shot through Yang Caiwei's subjective point of view. The strong use of light creates a lot of contrast--through her eyes, he is a mixture of light and dark, his morality as inscrutable as his shadowy figure.

Camera Angles and Shot Sizes

The show's use of low angles and close-ups further reinforces the idea that Pan Yue is unpredictable and even dangerous.

In cinematography, low-angle shots tend to make the subject look more powerful and menacing, and the show uses this technique to great effect.

Even in the intimacy of close-up shots, we can sense the threat emanating from Pan Yue. He’s always shot just a smidgeon too close for comfort.

For example, look at how much Liu Xueyi's face fills the frame in an early "romantic" scene. The shot feels almost claustrophobic as if he's so single-minded about his goals that he has no choice but to dominate the frame (and Yang Caiwei). It's an unnerving moment despite the soft words coming out of his mouth.

Side Note: I live for Pan Yue's (vampiric) long shots. The production design team was smart for dressing the character in dark clothes with such a sleek cut and drape--he looks like a sexy bat.

The Nosferatu references in Yang Caiwei's tomb are also perfect.

Composition and Framing

And finally, like any good gothic romance, In Blossom illustrates how love can drive one to despair and even madness.

Because of this, my FAVORITE scene of the show has to be the introduction of Shangguan Zhi. Her obsessive pursuit of beauty in hopes of seducing Pan Yue has left her a shell of a human being, and the scene's composition perfectly encapsulates this with how it focuses on the elegant lines of her body--not her face or personhood.

Shangguan Zhi is trapped by her delusional fantasy of a life with Pan Yue--see how she's boxed in by the vertical lines of the screen panel she admires--and the show regularly uses architectural lines to show how her desperation has trapped Yang Caiwei as well.

#in blossom #花间令 #cdrama #meta #cinematography #liu xueyi #ju jingyi

[ggomos-maribat]

4 | about the Paris Mademoiselle

Part 4 of Marinette Dupain-Cheng is Dead | Masterlist

After hearing out Adrien's suggestion on where to have a meal, Tim and Jason ended up in the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

Might as well check out where she lived, right? Tim looked around the homey place as the overhead bell chimed behind them. It was small, simple: glass cases enclosing an assortment of doughnuts, croissants, danishes, eclairs, cookies, pies, and even single-tiered cakes. There was a tip jar next to the register labeled with a cute scribble, positioned next to a statuette of the Eiffel. Warm scents wafted from the kitchen at the back, and Tim could even pick up the faint smell of caffeine from the coffee-making station.

He and Jason took their seats near the register, allowing Tim to peer at the picture frames hung up on the wall. Though most of the photos were mundane, one stood out at the center: a picture of Marinette standing behind the counter, dressed in an apron and a bright grin.

"You're still not allowed to drink coffee," Jason said suddenly.

"I wasn't going to." He rolled his eyes.

From looking around, there didn't seem to be too many 'hints' of Marinette around aside from the photos.  The place seemed moderately busy, with a short-haired woman—Sabine Cheng perhaps?—manning the register.

Tim lined up behind two women pointing at the pastries. The blonde one wearing a blue dress pointed at the glass. "Hey, those pink macarons! Weren't they her favorite?"

The other woman, cropped pixie cut, elbowed her companion, hissing, "Rory!"

Then, she turned to Sabine Cheng, "I'm really sorry, Mrs. Cheng."

"It's quite alright, dears." There was a fond sparkle on the eyes of the older woman. "You're right, those macarons were her favorite."

Tim and Jason shared a look. 'Her' . . . did that mean Marinette? Quickly, he took his phone out to make a quick profile search—the two customers turned out to be former students of Francois Dupont, but not part of Marinette's class: Mireille Caquet and Aurore Beauréal. Both were based outside of Paris but still within Europe, and seemed to be back in the city for a brief visit.

"We'll take those macarons, Mrs. Cheng." Aurore smiled apologetically. "And two coffees, please."

"Of course. It's on the house, girls."

Mireille paused from reaching for her wallet. "No, you don't have to!"

"I insist. You're only here for a few days, yes? Consider it a welcome back home."

After the girls politely extended their thanks, Tim ordered lunch for himself and Jason, whilst paying close attention to the macaron selection. Pink strawberry macarons, huh? He thought. That does suit her.

He lent Jason his phone for him to take a look at his brief research about the two women. "They knew her, I think." Tim stole a glance at the next table. "Not very close, but she helped them out during their reporter gigs."

"There's nothing out of place around here," Jason commented as he idly read over the profiles.

"One camera pointing at the front door, and one at the back door. There are barely any blind spots, but if she did slip past surveillance, the streets on the way to bridge should've caught her at least." Tim's expression twisted.

"Tampering?"

"Doubt it. It doesn't look edited." Tim shrugged. "I asked Babs to be sure and she says so."

He took out the small wrinkled list from his pocket and cleanly crossed out Adrien's name. Can we ask those two women? It didn't feel right interrogating them out of the blue, especially when they were in Marinette's family bakery, with her mother close by. Still, it was an opportunity for them.

Jason even looked like he was ready to ask.

"Jay, come on, we have to think this through."

"Dickie would ask if he were here."

"Dick's a smooth-talker. We're not."

Jason tilted his head. "We have Adrien's excuse."

"Er, hello? It's still bad timing."

"Fine. Let's just go over what we have then."

"She was bullied, even though the school records said otherwise; she was involved in multiple extracurriculars; and according to both her friend and parents, she wasn't acting odd before her death," Tim listed off from the top of his head.

"If she wanted to expose Lilia, then . . . isn't that a motive?"

How much of that conflict could've elevated into murder? Tim couldn't piece it together. He didn't want to rule out everything else just because Lilia Ross was so easy to accuse. "Tricky part is that Lilia actually has an alibi that time."

Jason's eyebrows raised. "What?"

"Two years ago, she was just starting things out with her brand and during the week Marinette died, she was on another part of France, having product meetings with her suppliers." And that alibi was airtight.

"Okay, fine, let's back up. The rest of the class was on Lila's side. Is it possible that it was any of them?" Jason suggested.

"They don't exactly have alibis, but I can't track down where exactly each of them were on that day either." Tim glanced at the other table, where Sabine Cheng served the girls their orders, plus free croissants as well. "And going back to the details of it, could they have pulled off something as—er—clean of evidence as that?"

"A lot of them are rich kids, you know."

"Fine, then say we suspect someone else in their class, do you really think any of them would have the heart to do . . . that to their classmate?"

"Who else could've had a vendetta against her?

One name occurred in Tim's mind, a flash of dark purple and gentle wings. He hesitated a little before saying, "Hawkmoth."

"Hawkmoth?"

"That's the only one I can think of, okay!" Tim shifted in his seat, and then lowered his voice. "Apart from Adrien, Marinette had been the only one to never have been akumatized in their class. That kind of strength to resist akumas is something Hawkmoth would prey on."

"I think you overlooked one problem here, Timbers." Jason looked unimpressed. "Hawkmoth was defeated five months before she died. Ladybug herself said that his Miraculous was taken from him."

"I don't know, maybe he's still a powerful person behind the mask. Or like, it was an accomplice."

It was tricky that Hawkmoth's real identity wasn't ever revealed despite his defeat. It caused quite an uproar within Paris, but Ladybug was set on that decision. As for the reason, all Tim could think of is that the heroes were trying to avoid backlash on whoever was close to the 'real' Hawkmoth.

"You're saying he was fixated on this one girl he can't akumatize?" asked Jason.

"Are you saying that your theory is more likely?" Tim retorted back.

"I'm saying we need so much more evidence to figure this thing out."

Tim sighed audibly. It was true that they were fully basing their guesses on speculations. If they could dig a little bit deeper, they should find a clue that leads to the truth.

"Monsieurs."

Tim stiffened all over in just a span of a second. Were we too loud? When he looked up, both Aurore and Mireille were standing by their table. He quickly checked if Sabine Cheng had heard anything, but she seemed preoccupied with the pastries, fortunately.

"Were you talking about . . ." Aurore whispered. "Marinette?"

"No," Tim lamely replied.

Mireille crossed her arms. "You were. We heard. What is going on?"

"There has been an anonymous request to reopen the investigation," Jason lied smoothly, eyes flickering over to the counter. "But you must understand that her parents are not to be involved."

"What is the reason for this 'reopening'?"

Before Tim or Jason could say anything, Aurore spoke: "Lila. It's Lilia Ross, isn't it?"

"We're not on her side, if that's what you're thinking," said Tim hastily. "Maybe there's something you know?"

Both girls looked at each other, as if sharing a silent conversation. Then, Mireille answered morosely, "We wish we knew more. We couldn't pry into it because she closed herself off from us—even Marc Anciel, one of our common friends."

"Did you know what Lilia Ross did to her?"

"We saw what she did," Aurore said bitterly. "Poor Mari couldn't even catch a break; she was never herself anymore."

"We could've done more," Mireille mumbled. "We tried looking for more information about her death but . . . there's nothing. We even asked Monsieur Raincomprix—that's the father of one of our schoolmates, he was part of the investigation team—and he never said a word."

Aurore nodded, "No one from the police disclosed it."

"Why did they leave the case?" Tim asked. "Did her parents ask . . .?"

Yet again, the two shared a look before Aurore said, "There was someone who asked for the investigation to be closed. Her parents had no choice but to consent to it."

"There was someone pulling the strings from behind?" Jason frowned.

Mireille pinched the bridge of her nose. "Looked like it. That's the only thing we know." She heaved out a sigh. "Actually . . . there is one person who might know or has the means to find out. We can't approach them because, well, it is simply too awkward but maybe the two of you will have more luck. She actually flew over from New York yesterday."

"Who?" Tim leaned in.

"The editor-in-chief of Paris Mademoiselle, Chloe Bourgeois."

***

"What's CEO Timothy Drake-Wayne doing investigating the death of a French teenager?"

Tim internally winced, not anticipating that Chloe Bourgeois had recognized him. The blonde had surprisingly let them into her office (which was also surprisingly extremely messy) next to Le Grand Paris Hotel. Their encounter reminded Tim of a principal's confrontation with students—Chloe's eyes were unwaveringly cold towards them.

"He's just tagging along for my case." Jason brandished a fake ID, naming himself as a private consultant. "We're here at an anonymous request to re-investigate the incident. We want to ask you about Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

"Who requested it?"

"We can't say—"

"Was it Adrien?"

Jason shook his head calmly. "We can't disclose any details."

Chloe sighed in exasperation. Like with Adrien, the exhaustion behind her face but she hid it more loosely. Even deeper than that, Tim saw fatigue, restlessness, jetlag, a hint of sadness.

"She was my classmate," Chloe began. "Well, I think she should be more than that to me. I've known her since kindergarten. She was always top of the class, all smiles, kind to a fault, so much of a klutz, habitually late . . ." She paused. "I was just her bully."

She has that deep faraway gaze. If there was anyone who didn't bother to hide the hurt from losing Marinette, it was her. Chloe Bourgeois. "I've known her since kindergarten but we were never friends. It's my petty jealousy's fault, I don't know. Even if I mocked her so many times, she always fought back in some way. She had such a sharp tongue. She despised me as much as I despised her.

"Did you know she had a crush on Adrien? I bet you didn't. It was embarrassingly massive that she'd trip all over the place. I'd pick on her about it." She fiddled with a button on her blazer. "The crush mellowed out over time but—but everything about her mellowed out so much. I don't know why I did anything but I asked my Dad how she died. No matter how much I begged, he said 'his hands were tied'. Believe me, my father always gave anything I asked.

"You won't believe how devastated everyone was when she was gone. My dad cried. Hell, my mother shed a tear. Andre the ice cream man cried. Nadja Chamack broke down on live TV. Everyone outside our class cried. Her friends who abandoned her had the audacity to fucking cry. It was like the whole city was grieving. You know why? Because Hawkmoth was already gone at that time. Everyone thought it was finally our time to heal but nooo, they didn't see how much it took a toll on those who barely kept it together the whole time.

"Marinette was never akumatized. She's been targeted by so many akumas, had so much done to her but I never once saw her break. Not even close. Of course she wasn't fucking okay enduring all of that. Of course I had to be the idiot who never tried to apologize to her," Chloe spat out. "There. There's my statement."

Tim felt so pinned down by her gaze. The irony . . . it was Chloe who talked more about her than Adrien.

Jason cleared his throat. "There's one more thing. Lilia Ross—"

"Lila?" She sneered. "No, don't get me started on her. You should be smarter than believing that stupid act she puts on."

"Did her transfer . . . change Marinette somehow?"

"Uh, yeah! She practically lost all her friends," she scoffed. "I'd say everything was going downhill at about Quatriéme, but steeply when Lila showed up."

"Why? What was in Quatriéme?"

Chloe raised a judgmental eyebrow.

"When Hawkmoth first showed up," Tim mumbled. "Did you collect other evidence aside from asking your father? Didn't you ever want to know why?"

"It's useless. I have other things taking up my time right now." But in Chloe's eyes, Tim could clearly see that she wanted to know. Desperately.

"Besides," Chloe added, "My dad's not mayor anymore. I can't exactly pull any strings."

"Do you know anyone else we can ask?" Jason questioned.

"Not really." Her voice turned soft. "I'm not in close contact with anyone anymore. But there's something I've been wondering about myself, and maybe you can look into it."

Chloe reached up to rub her shoulder. "Those rumors online about Lila. They turned up out of the blue, didn't they? Now, who's exactly behind all of that?"

Taglist: @hammalammadamdam @toodaloo-kangaroo @missmadwoman @afanofmanyships @atomicherringpersonjudge-blog @wheredostarsgowhenyoudie

#maribat fanfic #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat #maribat fic #character death #major character death #angst #MDC is Dead #dc x miraculous #tw mentions of suicide #tw mention of death #if youve asked to be tagged before and I haven't tagged you please let me know!!

[empiredesimparte]

Cannes Film Festival's Douzaine begins! The French program Canal comments the opening of the festival on the Croisette

Reporter Emma: Welcome to Canal! As you have seen on our pictures, this year, His Majesty himself cut the ribbon and will inaugurate the festival. This had not happened for almost 100 years in Francesim!

Presenter Robert: Is the Emperor accompanied? I don't think I know that Reporter Emma: Yes Robert, I can confirm that the Emperor is not alone. He is accompanied by a young woman, I heard around me that she is a childhood friend of His Majesty. I must say that there is a lot of effervescence at the moment in Cannes!

Presenter Robert: We have just received information from the imperial palace Emma! Apparently it would be about his fiancée, His Majesty makes an official announcement! Presenter Thierry: It's wonderful and completely unexpected ! The edition of this year is decidedly unique! Presenter Robert: Indeed, that makes pleasure to see our young Emperor close to the French, and accompanied !

Presenter Thierry: The press release adds that it's Mademoiselle Charlotte de Mortemart, a childhood friend of the Emperor as you said Emma Journalist Emma: Gentlemen, look, Mademoiselle Charlotte is presenting her ring to the cameras of the whole world! Presenter Robert: Congratulations to the young lovebirds!

Journalist Emma: There is obviously a royal trend this year: Prince Henri of Pierreland is here as an actor! His Imperial Highness is accompanied by Chiara, who is his partner in the opening film Pierre the Great, a biopic on the Emperor. Note that this is the first time that the festival hosts a production of the Simflix platform.

Presenter Thierry: Princess Maria-Aisha, apparently came to attend the first steps of actor of her brother!

Presenter Robert: Our neighbors from Iona are also present at the festival, the royal princess came to support the Ionian artists!

Journalist Emma: I also saw the famous princess Leonor of Uspana, look at the pictures! She presents herself in a very classy black dress.

⚜ Le Cabinet Noir | Cannes Film Festival, 7 Prairial An 230

Beginning ▬ Previous ▬ Next

Collaboration with @officalroyalsofpierreland, @nexility-sims and @funkyllama. Thank you everyone! <3

⚜ Traduction française

La Douzaine du festival de Cannes commence ! L'émission française Canal commente l'ouverture du festival de la Croisette

Journaliste Emma : Bienvenus en direct sur la chaîne Canal! Comme vous l'avez vu sur nos images, cette année, Sa Majesté en personne a coupé le ruban et inaugurera le festival. Cela n'était pas arrivé depuis presque 100 ans en Francesim !

Présentateur Robert : L'Empereur est accompagné ? Je ne crois pas être au courant Journaliste Emma : Oui Robert, je confirme que l'Empereur n'est pas seul. Il est accompagné d'une jeune femme, j'ai entendu autour de moi qu'il s'agissait d'une amie d'enfance de Sa Majesté. Je dois dire qu'il y a beaucoup d'effervescence actuellement à Cannes !

Présentateur Robert : Nous venons de recevoir des informations du palais impérial Emma ! Apparemment il s'agirait de sa fiancée, Sa Majesté fait une annonce officielle ! Présentateur Thierry : C'est merveilleux et complètement inattendu ! L'édition de cette année est décidément unique ! Présentateur Robert : En effet, cela fait plaisir de voir notre jeune Empereur proche des Français, et accompagné !

Présentateur Thierry : Le communiqué que nous venons de recevoir indique qu'il s'agit de Mademoiselle Charlotte de Mortemart, une amie d'enfance de l'Empereur comme vous le disiez Emma Journaliste Emma : Messieurs regardez, Mademoiselle Charlotte présente sa bague aux caméras du monde entier ! Présentateur Robert : Félicitations aux jeunes tourtereaux !

Journaliste Emma : Il y a manifestement cette année une tendance royale : le prince Henri de Pierreland est là en tant qu'acteur ! Son Altesse Impériale est accompagnée de Chiara, qui est sa partenaire dans le film d'ouverture Pierrelandais, un biopic sur l'Empereur Pierre le Grand. À noter que c'est la première fois que le festival accueille une production de la plateforme Simflix.

Présentateur Thierry : La princesse Maria-Aisha, est semble-t-il venue assister aux premiers pas d'acteur de son frère!

Présentateur Robert : Nos voisins d'Iona sont également présents au festival, la princesse royale est venue apporter son soutien aux artistes Ioniens !

Journaliste Emma : J'ai également aperçu il me semble la célèbre princesse Leonor d'Uspana, regardez les images! Elle se présente dans un robe noire très classe.

#cannes film festival #simparte #ts4 #ts4 royal #sims 4 royal #royal simblr #sims 4 fr #sim : louis #sims 4 #cannes #le cabinet noir #sim : charlotte #collab : pierreland #collab : funkyllama #collab : nexility #ts4 royal legacy #ts4 royal simblr #ts4 royalty #ts4 royals #sims 4 royalty #sims 4 royal simblr #sims 4 royal story

[kalims-pessimist-bestie]

⚠️NSFW⚠️ Beauty and the Beast // VilxTomboyFem!Reader

CW: Red String Soulmate AU, fluff to smut

TW: some degradation, mention of crocs, umm s3x

He was the epitome of beauty, of grace, of all things gorgeous. His hair, skin, nails, everything was perfect. He is Vil Schoenheit. A very talented actor, the cameras were always on him. However, none of the photos and tabloids could show the red string tied on his finger. No one else could see it but him.

Well, and her. She had the same red string attached to her finger. He was walking through a busy shopping center, accompanied by Rook. Nothing was out of the ordinary until the other end of the string bumped straight into him.

"Hey, watch it," she spoke quite rudely to him.

"Watch your mouth," he spoke back. He was so confused why she didn't continue to argue with him, that was until he saw that she was looking intensely at his hand. And then he saw hers. In her face she was stunning, but that was where the beauty seems to end. Her hair was unstyled in the most unsavory low ponytail, and she was wearing worn out sweatpants and a hoodie. He might've been able to look past it if she hadn't chosen Crocs for her footwear as well.

"Oh fuck no. There is no way I'm spending my life attached to a pompous prick like you!" The girl desperately tried to pull the string off. It was no use.

"Well, I'm not interested in being attached to someone with such a lack of respect for yourself! You probably use 3-in-1 shampoo!"

"And so what if I do! At least I'm saving money instead of wasting hundreds hair masks and dumb, perfumey face stuff!"

"Well at least I don't look like I woke up in a cardboard box!"

"A t least I don't look like I cry when hair falls out in the shower!"

"That's it!" Vil grabbed the girls hand. "If we're going to be attached like this, I'm going to make sure that you look the part. You're about to be my prettiest accessory whether you like it or not."

-----

After hours of trecking from store to store, Vil and the girl finally reached a peace offering and bought her some clothes that were comfy, functional, and cute. Rook was gushing about how gorgeous "Mademoiselle Soulmate" looked in her new duds.

"This is exhausting, can we get some pizza or something?" Vil was appalled at the question.

"And ruin your diet day one? Absolutely not."

"You know you're not the boss of me, we're attached but I can still move freely without you."

"There's no way I am letting you eat mall garbage for food. You're coming back with me and I will make us a healthy dinner instead."

"Geez at least ask me out before you take me on a date. Do you even know my name?"

"Rook?" Vil called for his companion.

"Her name is Y/N L/N. From _____. Right/Left hand dominant."

"Thank you, Rook. Alright then Y/N. Let's go on a date where I make you good food." She wanted to complain, but she just stood there flabbergasted, wondering how Rook figured that out.

-----

Back at Vil's house, Y/N met his other roommate, Epel. The two got along super well. He was pretty, but he was an absolute gremlin. He made quite the scene during dinner.

"Vil, why can't you make us real food?" he whined.

"Complaining isn't pretty, Epel."

"Alright, but guess what is." Epel smirked and then let out on of the loudest belches she had ever heard. Vil's face went pale and he looked to you like he was about to apologize.

"Good one, lemme try!" and she followed suit, topping Epel's by a long shot. The color returned to Vil's face, but only out of anger.

"You two must learn some table manners! That was horrendous and I will never cook for you again if you don't stop this."

"Okay." Epel and Y/N looked at each other, then began to compete for who could burp louder. Vil was bursting at the seams.

-----

"You are absolutely the most frustrating people I've ever had to deal with!" Vil had escorted Y/N to a guest room after dinner, then began to scold, lecture, and yell at her. "You are beautiful! Your skin is flawless, you have a very nice body under all those baggy clothes, I'm sure. Even your hair is gorgeous! Why won't you take care of yourself?!"

"I just don't see a need to. I'm comfy and content." She began to walk closer to the tall man. "But next time you wanna ask me out and compliment me, do it without insulting my constant being."

"You are incredibly frustrating," he cupped her face with his soft hands. "You're almost perfect, and you're stuck as my red-stringed soulmate. I just want you to look as perfect as you are." He leaned down and kissed her, both of their eyes fluttered closed as they melted into a frustrated kiss.

"This doesn't mean I'm happy about this arrangement," she pulled back briefly to speak, but immediately went back into the kiss. Vil began to walk her back into a wall, never breaking apart. He was enveloped by the taste of her.

"Jump." He said it so sternly. It was a command and she jumped right away, into his arms as they continued to makeout passionately. The muffled moans escaping her mouth turned Vil on more and more. Their bodies began to lightly grind against each other's. He carried Y/N over to the bed and laid her down. He wrapped his finger around the hem of her shorts.

"May I?" he looked at her with a gentle kindness she hadn't seen all day.

"Of course." He immediately began to remove her clothes, tossing them to the side. His hands danced along her skin, making her shiver. His hands played with her breasts as his face made its way down to your panties. He placed a small kiss on the fabric before stripping the underwear away. His hands unclasped her bra and his hands came down to your thighs. With a light squeeze, he spread her legs apart and placed feather-light kisses on her region. The small moans escaping her lips were like music to Vil's ears. She placed her hands in his hair as encouragement and he began to lick at her clit. It must've felt lovely by the way she began to pull his hair a little bit. Her hips bucked up into his face and he began dipping his tongue into her. He had to hold her thighs to keep her from squirming all over the place. The moans she let out began to get louder and louder. Vil didn't care if his roommates heard. He wanted to hear all of her.

"Turn around. I want you to bend over for me," he commanded when he was satisfied with his work down below. She did as he said, whimpering at the lack of feeling in her. He grabbed her ponytail harshly. "It's okay, love, I'll make sure to let you finish."

"I didn't know I needed your permission," she said smugly. That smug smile was wiped from her face with one harsh pull to the hair. Vil let go to undress himself. He always thought he was the most perfect person in the world, but with how you looked right now, ass in the air, begging waiting for him? You were for sure the most fair of them all.

"I don't want you back talking me, alright?" He said as he positioned himself outside of Y/N, his tip just lightly grazing the hole.

"Then hurry up and fuck me, Vil!" She shouted. She was so desperate for him. He slapped her on the ass and thrusted in slowly.

"Mind your manners, whore." He began to thrust in and out of her, the pace quickening with every noise she made. He spanked her again and went back to holding her by the ponytail. His thrusts became aggressive and hard, and his cock hit every spot inside of her. He was fucking her like a common slut, and she loved every second of it. One of his hands reached down and began fingering her sensitive clit, adding more and more sensation. She was being fucked silly, her tongue hanging out with no control.

"You'll cum when I say you can, alright?" he commanded her. He pulled hard on her ponytail and the thrusts started getting sloppy. Her moans had become screams with delight as she was holding onto her orgasm. Vil's breaths were less controlled and he moaned as he released everything into her.

"You've been good, so cum for me sweetheart." Those words released a violent orgasm. She squirmed underneath him unable to compose herself as she fell to the mattress below her.

"I'm probably going to need a bath, Vil. My legs are sore."

"Can you say please?"

"Go fuck yourself, then me again later."

-----

taglist:

@stygianoir

#twst #twst wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #vil x reader #twst vil #twst vil schoenheit #twst smut

[labrxnth]

RE4Remake Trio Headcannons

Is ambidextrous but only with all of his weapons, right handed with everything else

Has like 4 different butterfly knives and spins them whenever he has them in his hand

Actual Karaoke fiend (once he gets drunk enough)

Karaoke go to is either Breakaway by Kelly Clarkson or some 80s pop song

Smells like firewood, bourbon and vanilla

Would 100% watch baby sensory videos if he was like this in today's day and age (favorite would be Fruit Smoothie)

When some dumb shit happens, he looks around for a camera like a character on The Office

Him being grumpy is just because he's hangry

Confused Aurizzm

Disaster Bisexual

Ambidextrous

Dumbs himself down when not in scientist mode (his brain stays in his workplace)

Karaoke fiend even sober

Go to Karaoke song is I Will Always Love You and scream sings it with the "HOLY SHIT" added to it

Masks his scent of rubbing alcohol with Dior (like a lot of it)

Would make Baby Sensory videos, but in the middle of them it would just be a still image of face in a ring camera for like 30 seconds with no sound. Sends them to Leon and watches him have a breakdown over it

When dumb shit happens, he just shrugs and adds fuel to the fire

Would 100% wear sunglasses everywhere he went

Confident Aurizzm

Furious Pansexual

Left Handed

Makes little charm bracelets in her spare time

Asked to be taken to Karaoke, but takes a while to warm up

Go to Karaoke Song is Complicated by Avril Lavigne

Smells like either Coco Mademoiselle or Chance by Chanel

Would enjoy baby sensory videos, but mainly asks Leon if he's okay when she walks in on him pulling his hair out staring at the screen

When dumb shit happens, she goes into problem solving mode

Role model is Daphne from Scooby-Doo

ADHD

Lesbian

#resident evil 4 remake #re4remake #re4 remake #ashley graham #luis sera #leon kennedy #resident evil headcanons

[zcorners120]

hi, i have an idea for a short imagine with charles and carlos

for them both to be attracted to you, and get really competitive with who can get you first, so they go all out and do crazy extravagant things.

charles endgame !

ofc!

synopsis; teammates Carlos and Charles are both immediately drawn to you, so they make a competition of who can get you first.

warnings; none

MASTER LIST

Clasping the sleek microphone around your hand you hear the slow kicks and countdown, until;

"Good afternoon viewers from home! I'm going to try and be quiet as to not distract the drivers who are hard at work, but I'll be showing you an inside of how the drivers train, pre race." You say, putting your fun and bubbly personality on for the show.

Pushing the glass door open, you let the camera crew in and see how Charles and Carlos train, the first team for today, with the next being McLaren.

"So, can you tell us and the viewers about what kind of workouts the drivers have to go through and why?" You ask the trainer, and hand the mic over whilst the trainer starts explaining to the camera.

What you hadn't noticed is Carlos and Charles staring at you intently from the boxing bags, so you give them a slight wave and a polite smile.

What you thought was a friendly interaction, was quite the opposite for them. They couldn't stop gawking at the way your jeans hugged every curve, and extenuated your ass. Your simple white t-shirt wanting to be ripped off by the both of them. Your face was another story, your beautiful hair shined in the light, your perfect straight teeth sent them into orbit.

They turned back to each other, agape that they both caught interest.

"I saw first." Charles starts, being interrupted.

"I saw first." Carlos also says simultaneously, both of them starting to bicker loudly like children.

The camera crew turns and gives them a glare, signalling to be quiet. They shut their mouths quickly and carry on boxing knowing that this was going to be a sore conversation later on.

Some panoramic shots were done, and some questions asked by the crew before you moved onto the next team.

Their conversation later went as.. expected, which was tense. They sat on opposite benches after their workout, sweat dripping from their foreheads.

"I saw her first." Carlos blurts out, taking Charles by surprise.

"Mate, do you even know her name?" Charles shoots back, trying to think of a logical side to this. Carlos stays silent. "Her name is Y/N." Charles continues, looking at the bewilderment on Carlos' face.

"Okay, how about, whoever impresses her first, is victorious." Carlos began, his irrational thoughts overcoming him.

"Yeah, but don't get jealous if you see her in my bed." Charles deadpans, walking off with his signature wink.

You receive a text later that night from an unknown number.

"Good evening Amor, it was great seeing you at the gym, coffee sometime? - Carlos"

You stare down at the blue light of the phone, wondering how he got your number, but your thoughts were quickly interrupted by your doorbell ringing.

You tie the waistband from your silk dressing gown tighter, walking towards your white door. Expecting it to be your elderly neighbour asking if you could keep the noise down, even if it's silent, you were met with a chauffer holding the biggest bouquet of pink peonies.

"For Mademoiselle Y/N, from your Amor." He spoke out rigidly, and passed you the bouquet that was bigger than your coffee table.

"Oh, uhm thank you!" You hurriedly spoke out, trying to fit the bouquet through your door.

Putting the bouquet on your dining table, you assumed it was Carlos hence his text, but when you looked down at your phone, you were mistaken.

"Did you like the flowers Cherie? ;)" From a familiar number that was saved under Charles.

You replied to Carlos quickly, asking if it were work related or just a hangout session, and when he was thinking.

Replying to Charles however was slightly different, you felt something pulling you towards him and his text.

"They're beautiful. What's the occasion? :)" You send back, nervously waiting for a reply.

"Dinner at Pavyllon, eight o'clock tomorrow, I'll pick you up." He quickly texts back, making my eyes widen.

The Pavyllon? That's one of the most expensive restaurants in Monte Carlo..

"Of course." You reply politely, silently freaking out. You lay back onto your bedspread, wondering what you'll wear.

A/N; i'll probably do a part two, un motivated to finish this off, but in part 2 they're gonna go alllll out

#charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #formula 1 #fanfic #charles leclerc #imagines #f1 fandom #ferrari f1 #imagine #ferrari #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz junior #drabbles #drivers #drabble #driver #scuderia ferrari #f3 #formula 3 #mclaren f1 #ferrarri #ferrara #austrian gp 2022

[keenobjectmentality]

Ok, first time ever doing this but I fell down the same rabbit hole as every person writing Namor/Ku’kul’kan fics. So here’s my contribution. The original is on my Ao3 account if anyone wants to check that out. Lorein_nur.

Summary:

Clara Alcázar is a world renown archeologist and author, known for her professionalism and composure. After another successful exhibit inauguration, one centered on Northmen and Vikings to be precise, she decides its time to shed some light on a culture a little more close to home, Mesoamerican.

Moving back to México, and even further from her home town all the way to the peninsula of Yucatan will bring forth a new sense of adventure and unveil a secret of such magnitude the world has never known.

Chapter 1: Señorita Alcázar

The flash of camera lights followed her as she exited Edinburgh Castle, microphones and voice recorders were shoved her way as she walked down the carpet that had been drawn out in order to draw an even path up the stairs she now descended and through the sturdy wooden doors that lay at her back. She kept a steady pace, the fine tips of her heeled stilettos leaving the faintest of indentations on the well kept velvet, the skirt of her dress barely brushed the floor in a parody of a chaste kiss. Voices intermingled with the chords of a professionally strung violin, the orchestra the event organizer had hired was starting anew precisely after a 15 minute pause.

“¡Señorita Alcázar!”

“Miss Alcázar!”

"Mademoiselle Alcázar!”

The calls for her attention never stopped, and neither did she, all that had needed to be discussed had been within the stone walls of the castle at her back.

“Señorita Alcázar, por favor Señorita Alcázar espere un momento!”

"Miss Alcázar, please Miss Alcázar, hold on a moment!"

The use of her native tongue gave her pause, and with that one minute of hesitation the vultures flocked in, effectively surrounding her and blocking her sole exit from that night's event. A stifled groan was hastily swallowed, though she found herself unimaginably tired self composure still had to be kept, she’d practically built her reputation from that iron like control with which she held herself, so instead she smiled. Mauve painted lips parted in an upward grin, the whites of her teeth peeking from in between, the movement stretching the softness of her powdered cheeks.

More flashes followed, and with them more microphones, recorders and questions pertaining to the new archeological exhibit shed helped establish.

A slick recorder clutched in a well manicured hand was quickly thrust centimeters from her face, had she not been used to this form of treatment she would have blinked or worse taken a step back from surprise. “Christine Everhart from WHIH World News, Miss Alcázar, how hard was it to arrange a meeting between you and New Asgards reigning king?”

“Not hard at all if you know who to call.” She primly answered, a little cheekiness slipping into her words. She took a step forward, fully intending on continuing her trek from the castle to her hired driver and car no more than a few feet away when her progress was once again stopped this time by a microphone and a recording camera in her face.

“Cecile Lavigne from France24, Mademoiselle Alcázar, was this a difficult project to collaborate in with her majesty the king?”

“Heavens no, her majesty was wonderful all throughout.” She was quick to reply, the words slipping out with ease from the sincerity behind them, she flashed the camera and its reporter another charming smile before beginning anew her trek towards the car. Her driver now waited outside the vehicle with the backdoor open.

“Señorita Alcázar, ¡un momento de su tiempo!”

"Miss Alcázar, a moment of your time!"

And there it was, the voice that had halted her quick escape from the masses.

“Señorita Alcázar, por favor.”

"Miss Alcázar, please."

Please, he’d been the onlyone to ask now not once but twice for a moment of her time. Having the leather seat of the car not only in sight but one carful step away she found herself secured enough in her escape to turn and hummor one final reporter. The silk of her dress turned with her, the powder blue material hugging and curving over her figure, she cocked her head to the side and with a fleeting smiled invited the reporter to ask his question.

“¿Si?”

"Yes?"

“¡Muchas gracias Señorita Alzázar!” was enthusiasticly exclaimed before all matter of seriousness returned to the man whose words they belonged to. “Julian Herrera de La Octava TV, Señorita Alcázar, ¿cuál vendría siendo su siguiente proyecto? ¿En qué cultura se planea enfocar ahora que ha concluido su trabajo en Escocia?”

"Thank you, Miss Alcázar!" -" Julian Herrera from La Octava TV, Miss Alcázar, what would your next project be? What culture do you plan to focus on now that you have completed your work in Scotland?”

“En casa, creo que es hora de regresar y enfocarme en las culturas que formaron gran parte en la creación de nuestro increíble país. Es hora de darles el reconocimiento que se merecen y alzarlas al mismo estatus de importancia, de interés que las otras religiones y mitologías que son frecuentemente estudiadas tienen. ”

“Home, I think it's time to go back and focus on the cultures that played a big part in creating our amazing country. It is time to give them the recognition they deserve and raise them to the same status of importance, of interest that the other religions and mythologies that are frequently studied have. ”

It was the longest reply yet, and the one most fuled by passion, a fact Mr. Herrera had taken note of, his unmasked grin being a slick tell at that. Alcázar nodded in passing before turning once again and taking the final step into the car, the door shutting and shrouding her from the constant lights was a definitive sign that the end of the night had finally arrived. As the car moved on and made its was towards the castle exit, Clara Alcázar fulled from the shallow depths of her evenings clutch her phone, with nimble fingers she tapped and unlocked the screen tapping once more to open her go to messaging app.

“Nos vemos pronto! <3” Was typed and sent.

"See you soon! <3"

#black panther #wakanda forever #namor the sub mariner #namor fanfiction #namor x oc #namor x reader #namor x you #tenoch huerta namor #kukulkan

[kelyon]

Nephila 6: Abandoned

This is the fic where Rumpelstiltskin is a giant talking spider. And so is Neal.

In this chapter, Emma and Neal get to know each other.

Read on AO3

“Tell me again why you think I’m crazy,” Emma Swan said to Hat Man. “I want you to hear the words coming out of your mouth.”

Hat Man just chuckled and leaned back into his lawn chair. He took a swig of beer and smiled down at the fire pit in front of them. It was dark now, and getting cold--maybe into the sixties. The group had a campfire most nights, there was always something around to burn. 

“I will tell you, Miss Em-maculate.” Hat Man’s lips smacked as he talked. “Firstly, I cast no aspersions on your sanity. As far as I’m concerned, you are among the soundest of all the members of our little troupe.”

Emma looked around at the motley crew of half-dressed druggies and wannabe hippies that made up her closest friends. The boys were divided between the knife nerds and the pyros, who were passing the time by finding things to throw into the fire pit and high-fiving each other when something exploded. Most of the girls were either smoking grass or braiding weeds into their hair. In a dark spot away from the fire, Killian and half a dozen other people--boys and girls together--were all making out with each other and rolling around in the dirt. 

Yeah, Emma probably was the sanest person here. 

Hat Man went on. “I am merely dubious as to the veracity of your allegations! How could it possibly be that a creature of heretofore alien genus and perhaps entirely undiscovered phylum be found here in our fair Sunshine State, when the only other known sighting was in that vast southern terra nullius?”    

Emma ground her teeth. The trouble with Hat Man was figuring out whether he was too smart or too stupid. 

“You said you saw a thing like what I saw when you were in Australia.” She lowered her voice. “You know, a spider-thing.”

Hat Man laughed so loud that everybody looked up from what they were doing--though Killian didn’t bother to take his hand out from under Penny’s bikini top. 

“I saw all of my spider’s things.” He tried to elbow Emma in the ribs, but their chairs were too far apart. So instead he tilted his head back far enough for his top hat to fall on the ground. “He was wonderful!”

God, she did not want to think about what he meant by that.

“So you think the only reason I didn’t see a spider… man-thing here in Florida is because you saw one in Australia?”   

“Naturally!”

“You don’t think there could be more than one of them? Or that the one you saw could have moved?”

“What? Rented a U-Haul?”

“No!” This was so stupid! “I mean like, he migrated or something.”

A drunken voice floated over the yard: “Are you suggesting coconuts migrate?”

Emma ignored the question. It was a line from some movie she had never seen but everybody always talked about. 

Hat Man had finally noticed that his hat had fallen off. He leaned his chair backward to grab it off the ground. He dusted off the sand and set it on his head. 

“The individual I met couldn’t be tempted to venture out into the sunlight, let alone traverse the globe! Besides, do you think he could fly?”

“He is a giant talking spider!” Emma hissed. “He could do anything! I know for a fact Neal can swim.”

Hat Man did shrug at that, and nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps it could be,” he admitted. “As a wise woman once said, there’s plenty goes on that we don’t know about.”     

“Would it help if you saw him for yourself?” she tried. “Would you believe me then?”

“My darlingest mademoiselle, what does it matter whether or not I believe you?”

“Well…” Emma huffed. Why did it matter so much? Hat Man was just as crazy as everyone else around here. Killian had already seen the spider-thing. No one else in the group cared. She didn’t have to prove herself to anyone. 

Anyone except herself. 

“Well.” She faked as much confidence as she could. “This dumb monster made me lose your fancy camera. Maybe if you came to see him, Neal would, I dunno, give you something for it.”

Hat Man scratched his chin. “The individual I met down under had quite a penchant for compensatory negotiations…” A wide grin spread over his face and he bounced up from the chair. “By Jove, I’ll do it, Emmalinda! First thing tomorrow morning, we shall set out into the wild river of grass and find your cryptozoological marvel!”    

“Um, okay,” Emma said, once she figured out what Hat Man was saying. “It shouldn’t be too hard to lift Penny’s motor again. From the looks of things, she’ll be spending the night at Killian’s.”

****

In Hat Man’s vocabulary, “first thing tomorrow morning” was roughly one PM. Emma knew that, and didn’t wander over to the trailer in front of the sinking mansion until 1:30. Then, what with one thing and another, it was well after three by the time they actually got Penny’s Evinrude engine onto Emma’s jon boat and set sail into the Everglades. 

This time, she wore an old baseball cap with a visor, so she would be able to see around the gold glare that surrounded Neal’s little island. Hat Man daintily seated himself at the back of the boat and used a lace parasol to shield himself from the sun. The lace was yellow, but Emma guessed it had been white once. It must have belonged to Hat Man’s grandmother or great-grandmother.

Crazy to think that he knew who his ancestors were, and he still had all their stuff. None of the people who used to live in that big mansion were alive anymore, but they also kind of were alive in Hat Man. Did knowing where he came from help him know where he was supposed to belong?  

Emma kept one hand on the tiller, but she couldn’t stop biting her nails. Australia. Of all the places in the world, why did the spider come here from Australia?

It was easier to find Neal’s island now that she knew where it was. As they motored up to it, Emma saw him in a tree. He was climbing around the branches, upside down on all his creepy legs. Everywhere he moved there was more of the gold string shit. She hadn’t noticed it before, but the whole place kinda looked like a weird Christmas ornament.

“Ahoy!” Hat Man called out. He started to stand up as soon as Emma slowed down the boat, but a long time before it was really stopped. When he saw Neal, he took off his hat and bowed like somebody in a movie. “Greetings and salutations, good sir!”

Neal’s head popped out of the tree. It was hard to tell what he was thinking, with his face all weird and spidery. All his big black eyes went round when he recognized her.

“Emma!” he shouted. 

He climbed down from the tree and scuttled over to the edge of his island. He moved a little sideways, kind of like a crab. Were crabs and spiders related? What was this guy?

He had some of the gold string in his hands. It looked like he was about to throw it. 

“Catch this! I’ll tie you off!”

“I got rope,” Emma said. But before anyone heard her, Hat Man was already wrapping the string around the cleat on the side of her boat. Neal wrapped the other end around one of his tree branches. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about the boat drifting off with the tide. 

“A thousand gratitudes!” Hat Man said. He pranced off the edge of the jon boat with his arms spread wide and his parasol in one hand.

“Um, hello,” Neal said. Hat Man was staring at him, looking him up and down and all over. Neal backed away, but looked like he was trying to be polite about it.

Emma took a second to double-check Hat Man’s knots before she jumped out of the boat and onto the island.

“Hey,” she said. “Hope you don’t mind I’m back.”

“I don’t mind you at all,” Neal said. “See you didn’t bring the idiot with you this time.” 

She shrugged. “Killian’s sleeping it off. I don’t think he liked you anyway. I mean--I think you scared him.”

“Oh, but how could anyone be afraid of this face?” Neal spread his hands out around his head and made a big smile. At least, his mouth went wide and his big fucking fangs raised up. Short brown hairs stood up all over his face. It kinda looked like stubble, but it really looked like a werewolf. Or a tarantula. That much made sense. 

“Yeah,” Emma tried to smile. How many of his eyes was she supposed to look at when she talked to him? If she tried to look at all of them at once, she’d have to stand ten feet away.

Hat Man was still walking around Neal, shaking his head and muttering things like, “Astounding!” and “Phenomenal!”

“So who’s this guy?” Neal asked her. 

“Oh!” Hat Man snapped to attention. He came around to Neal’s front and stuck out his hand. “Geoffrey Lutwigde Jefferson the Third, at your service!”

Neal’s hands and arms were the same size as Hat Man’s. He bent his spider-legs down to a crouch so the two of them were the same height when they shook hands.

“And I’m Neal,” he said. “You’re a friend of Emma’s?”

“I’m a friend to all God’s creatures. Emma and I are bosom companions!”

Neal gave her a look and she just shrugged. 

“You remember that camera I lost yesterday? Hat Man’s the guy it belongs to.”

The upper ridge on Neal’s forehead wrinkled, just above his two biggest eyes. He held up a finger, then scuttled back across the sand and up into the gold-covered tree. After a minute, he was back.

“You mean this camera?” He held up the ziploc bag, still sealed, with the camera inside.

“Holy shit! Are you serious?” Emma shouted. “You found it? Seriously?”

“I seriously found it,” Neal said. He was smiling for real now. Emma could tell it was real.

Hat Man raised one fist in the air. “Sublime!”

 Emma took the bag from Neal and got the camera out. Did it still work? Had the bag held up and kept the water out? She fiddled with the buttons to check. When the screen came on, she laughed out loud. 

“Smile, guys!” She snapped a few pictures while Hat Man posed like a model and Neal looked confused.

 When she was done, she brought the camera over and showed them the results. Hat Man took a quick glance and then wandered off to see the rest of the island. She gave the camera to Neal and showed him how to scroll back and forth. He frowned when he looked at the pictures.

“Don’t like ‘em?” Emma asked. “I can take more.”

Neal shrugged and waved her off. “Nah, I--I’m not gonna like any pictures of me. Part of the territory of being a freak of nature.”

Emma swallowed. In all the excitement of getting the camera back, she’d forgotten the reason she’d borrowed it from Hat Man to begin with. There were rumors about a monster in this part of the glades, something undiscovered by science. Emma had gone out here to find proof. She was gonna post the pictures on the internet and get famous and rich. 

Now that she knew the monster was Neal, telling the whole world about him didn’t seem important anymore. 

She took the camera back from Neal and deleted all the pictures she’d just taken. “They’re gone now. You don’t have to look at them, and no one else is ever gonna find out about you. Not from me, anyway.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, but I wanted to.”

They didn’t say anything for a bit, just stood there on the sand. Then Neal asked, “Could I… take a picture of you?”

Emma made a surprised noise. “Uh, sure, I guess.” She showed him the buttons on the camera. “You just see what you wanna take a picture of on the screen, and when it looks right, you press that big circle button.”

“Like this?” He took the camera and held it up. His hands brushed over hers during the transfer. They were as brown as the rest of him, but didn’t have the spiky hairs. His hands were actually really soft,  and warm.

She cleared her throat, paid attention to him aiming the camera at his gold-covered tree. “Yeah, that looks great. Then just press the button.”

There was a click noise, and the picture was on the screen. Neal looked really proud of himself for figuring it out. 

“Okay, now I’m gonna take some of you. Go stand out closer to the water, I bet that’ll look great.”

Emma tried to relax, but it was hard to know how to stand or what to do with her arms. Should she smile? There was nothing worse than a fake smile, but she didn’t want to not smile either. 

Getting her picture taken was the worst. It always reminded her of when she was a little kid and her foster parents would drag her to some Sears studio for court-mandated photographs every year. They always forced her to smile, no matter how much the too-small frilly dresses they put her in itched. Her birth parents wanted to know she was happy so she had to look happy no matter how much she wanted to scream and cry.

“Hey!” Neal’s voice broke through her thoughts. “You okay over there?”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Emma stomped back over to him. “I’m fine,” she said. “I guess I don’t like pictures either.”

“I can get rid of these like you got rid of mine,” he offered. 

“Nah, it’ll be fine. Can I see ‘em?”

She was small, in the pictures Neal took of her. Like he had been trying to take a picture of just the glades and she had wandered in from the side. The whole horizon was flat, water and sawgrass stretching out to the end of the world. She was the tallest thing in these pictures, so she stuck out. She was looking out at the water, head turned away from the camera.

She looked lost.

“Dang.” Emma passed the camera back to him and sat down on the sand. “That’s good. You could be an artist.”

“You’re being nice.”

She shook her head. “I’m not nice, ask anybody.”

“I don’t know anybody. I just know you’re nice to me.”

“Nah.” She picked up a stick and started poking it in the sand, just for something to do. 

“Emma, you’re talking to me,” he said. “I-I know what I am. Every human I’ve ever met has been terrified of me, even my own--doesn’t matter. Point is, you really are nice.”

She shrugged. It was hard to look at him, and not just because of the spider thing. 

“Everybody deserves a chance,” she muttered. “No matter what they look like or where they come from or--or what fucked-up things happened to them.”

Emma Swan didn’t believe in much, but she did believe that. She had to, or else she’d never be able to believe in herself.

Neal was sitting next to her. His weird spider-legs were tucked in under his body. It looked like the way cats will sit on their legs and look like a loaf of bread. He was fiddling with the camera, but it seemed like the same thing she was doing with her stick in the sand, just something to do. 

“I’m glad you came back,” he said after a while. “I didn’t think I was gonna find another person who wasn’t afraid of me.”

“Hat Man’s not afraid of you.”

“Yeah, what’s the story with that guy?”

“He’s crazy. He says he’s seen you before, or seen something like you.” Emma shrugged and held up her hands so Neal would know she was just repeating Hat Man’s story and didn’t know if it was real or not.

Weirdly, Neal just nodded. “There are other things like me,” he said. “At least one. I feel like there should be others, but I don’t know. That’s… kind of why I left home. I wanted to find out.”

He talked about leaving home like he was going off to college. Emma never could imagine doing that. If you had a home where you were welcome and wanted, why would you ever leave it?

“Where’s home?”

“When I lived there, all I knew was that it was a cave underground in a desert. Once I left, I did some research and found out I had been living in Queensland, Australia.”

Emma let her stick fall from her hands. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” 

She stood up, brushed the sand off her jeans, and put her hands around her mouth.

“Hey, Hat Man!” she shouted towards Neal’s tree. “Hat Man, come over here! You might not be a nutjob after all.”

****

“So the creature you met,” Neal said after they had found Hat Man and brought each other up to speed, “it didn’t speak English very well, did it?”

“Hardly as loquacious as a native interlocutor, though he did have a preternatural knack for making his preferences known.”

It took Emma a minute to put all that together. “He didn’t talk much, but he let you know what he wanted?”

“Explicitly!” Hat Man’s eyes lit up like fireworks. “The end result was one of, if not the, most exhilarating erotic encounters of my youth!”

Neal made a face. Then he seemed to decide he didn’t want to think about exactly what Hat Man had done when he was younger. 

“What did your creature look like? Like what colors or markings or… I don’t know what humans would notice about us. Anything?”

“He did resemble you quite a bit, my lad. Though larger, and somewhat more… cuspidated, let us say. ‘Pointy’ for lack of a better word. You’re rather stubby of limb in comparison. Without meaning any offense, of course.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” Neal said thoughtfully.

“It does?” Emma said. “Really? Any of this makes sense to you?”

“It does, yeah.” Neal nodded to himself. “I know I look different from… from my father.”

“Ah-ha!” Hat Man laughed. “Your progenitor, how marvelous! Was that the fellow I met in my travels, in your estimation?”

“I don’t know.” Neal ran his fingers through--was it his hair? It was on his head, so Emma had to call it hair. “My thought is that either you met my father or some other member of my kind. Something less diluted than I am.”

Emma wrinkled her nose. “What does water have to do with anything?”

“No, it’s…” He gave her a soft smile, like he knew full well how crazy every part of this seemed to her. “Like I said, I know I’m different from my father. I’m--well, I don’t know how much human my father has in his DNA, but I know I’ve got more.”

Hat Man pulled his cell phone out of the band of his hat. He looked thoughtful. “Who else accompanied me on that expedition?”

He was mostly talking to himself, so Emma ignored him. She kept talking to Neal. “Are you saying you’re part human?”

“I am, yes. I don’t remember a lot about my mother, but she definitely only had two legs.”

“Might I request the return of my photographic device?”

Neal passed the camera back to Hat Man, who started flipping back through old pictures. Emma was still having trouble believing what she was hearing. She moved away from Hat Man and stood a little closer to Neal.

“So you’re half-part human and half-part… another spider-man-thing?”

He sighed, and looked down at his hands. “You know, sometimes I wish science would discover me, just so I could have a name for what I am. For now I guess ‘spider-man-thing’ is as good as it’s gonna get.”

Emma’s face was hot and she wasn’t sure why. This whole thing was so fucked-up and weird. How did a girl get together with a spider-thing and make something that would grow up to be Neal? How do you screw a thing like him? Even if you wanted to, how would it work? 

“I bet your parents, like, really loved each other.”

They’d have to. 

Neal shook his head. “Nah, there was no love lost between them. My mother especially, she was just a normal person. She didn’t wanna get caught up in some weirdass family web.”

He said that last word like he hated it. Like he hated everything about himself and what he was. Emma bit her nails. She wanted to say something, but what could she say? He wouldn’t believe her if she said something nice, even if it was true.

“She left,” he said after a minute. “When I was little. She walked out of the cave and I never saw her again.”

“That sucks,” Emma whispered. She held her arms over her chest. “I’m sorry. Good parents don’t leave.”

He looked at her. “That sounds like the voice of experience.”

She shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe I’m wrong. There are plenty of parents who hurt their kids by not leaving.”

“Not yours, though?” Neal asked. “Your parents left?”

How did he know? Did being a spider make him psychic? Or was she just worse at hiding things than she thought? If it was anyone else, she woulda lied or dodged the question or punched him in the face. But it was Neal. For some reason, Neal was different. Emma pressed her lips together and took a deep breath through her nose. 

“I’m adopted.”

There were people she’d known for years who didn’t know that about her. Her friends didn’t ask about things like your parents or your history or your future. All anyone had the brainpower to think about was what was going on right in front of them. How to get what you needed to keep you going for another day, how to ditch the cops or stay out of trouble with the really tough guys, how to have a good time because life was dangerous and short. No one had time for mushy shit.  

“My parents left me because keeping me would have dragged them down. They were poor when they had me, but they’re rich now. They’ve got this bigass sheep farm in--you’re not gonna believe this--Australia.”

Neal snorted. “The place where I lived in Australia had sheep. When my father couldn’t find anything else to hunt, we would eat them.”

Emma made a face. It was nice of Neal not to freak out about her parents. It was nice to not think about her problems for a minute. “You eat ‘em raw?”

“Like animals,” he nodded. “Like we were animals, I mean.”

“What do you do now?” She couldn’t imagine Neal spider-crawling his way into a McDonald’s.

“The same thing, but now I try to cook my food when I can.” He shrugged. “Actually, I make an effort to hunt the big snakes that live out here. They’re an invasive species, so I think of it as community service. Something good for the native wildlife.”

Her lips twitched into a smile. “Well, aren’t you a nice guy?” 

“As nice as you?”

She shook her head. “You’re a lot nicer than me, Neal. Your mom shouldn’t have left you.” 

He leaned closer to her. “Your parents shouldn’t have left you. And for the record, I don’t think you would have dragged them down. I bet they’d like you.”

Emma looked up at him. Maybe it was because the sun was going down, but all his big black eyes didn’t seem scary now. They seemed warm and soft. He still had fangs, but all she could see was his smile. His mouth was so wide and so weird. If someone was gonna kiss a thing like him, how would they start? She leaned toward him. She’d have to figure it out, and soon. Their faces were about to touch. They were about to--

“Eureka!”

Hat Man shouted so loud the whole goddamn Everglades must have heard it. Emma winced at the noise. Her and Neal broke apart at the same time. Next thing she knew, Neal was on the other side of Hat Man, looking at the glowing camera screen. 

“Look at this photograph! A memento of my expedition!”

Emma blew air up out of her mouth and went over to look at the camera. She was mad, and she didn’t want to think about why she was mad. She would have to think about whatever BS Hat Man was talking about now. 

The picture was a group of kids her age, standing somewhere sunny and dry. They all looked… Well, weird was the only way to put it. It was the same sort of outcasts she hung out with now. Hat Man blended right in with his top hat and long coat like a magician. The boys wore leather and crazy colors, and the girls’ clothes were all different types of flowy--shawls and skirts and scarves in their hair. The kinds of outfits you could wear while you were getting high,and looking at fabric in the wind could keep you busy for hours. There was also a lot of skin on display, from the boys and the girls.

 “So this is you when you went to Australia? Did these people come with you?”

“Oh, they came!” Hat Man laughed. “With me, with each other, with all of nature and the oneness of the universe.” He sighed and smiled at the memories. Then he seemed to snap back to whatever his version of reality was. “And she,” he zoomed in the tiny image to focus on one of the girls, “came with me to the spider’s den.”

“What?” Neal said. He took the camera and squinted at the screen.

“You didn’t say anyone else was there!” 

“No one asked,” Hat Man shrugged. 

She was gonna choke him. “Who else went with you to Australia and saw the giant spider that might be Neal’s dad?”

“Those were all my companions on our journey of transcendental orgiastic discovery,” he said. “Only brave Milah heard my tale of arachnid ecstasy and chose to venture out with me the next time I went.”

“So you did meet my father.” Neal sounded really serious. “And you know who my mother is.”

Emma got close to Neal to look at the camera in his hands. The woman on the screen had black hair and blue eyes and a sort of ‘screw you’ look on her face. She didn’t seem anything like Neal.  

“That’s your mom? You’re sure?”

He nodded. “I remember that much.”

“How fortuitous!” Hat Man beamed. He took off his hat and bowed to Neal. “Happy to be of service.”

“Maybe I can find her now,” Neal said softly. He looked at Hat Man. “You said her name was Milah.”

“Yes! Milah… something or other. I want to say it started with a J, but that might have been her middle name. Milah Jane, we would call her. Or Milah Jochebed. Milah Jezebel? It’ll come to me. Or!”

He pulled out his phone again and started scrolling through it.

The sun was almost all the way down by now. The brightest light was Hat Man a few feet away, looking at his screen. Emma stood by Neal and didn’t say anything. What are you supposed to say to someone you met yesterday and didn’t know anything  important about until an hour ago? Are you supposed to tell them how much you want them to be okay? Are you supposed to tell them they mean something to you, even if you don’t know what that meaning is? 

Emma couldn’t say any of that. So she found Neal’s hand in the darkness and held on. 

He held on to her too.    

“Ah-ha!” Hat Man broke the silence. “Vickie will help us, I know it!”

He pressed the button to make a call, while Emma and Neal stayed together.

“Vickie, darling! How are you? I haven’t heard your voice in ages!” There was a pause while the other person spoke. “Why it’s Geoff, of course! Geoff Jefferson? From college? You remember, I taught you the thing with--Yes! I knew you’d remember me!” Pause. “What do you mean, how did I get this number?”

Hat Man kept talking to whoever he thought would help them get more information about Neal’s mom. Emma and Neal just stood together, on a little island in the middle of the Everglades. They were two kids left behind, with nothing to hold onto but each other.  

****

Three thousand miles north, in a cramped section of student housing for the University of Main’s Storybrooke campus, almost-MD Victor Whale tossed his phone into a pile of dirty laundry and flopped face-first onto the bed, groaning.

On the other side of the bed, almost-PhD Ruby Lucas looked up from her thesis research. Her and Victor’s new-semester tradition of ‘sex and study Saturdays’ had been going well so far. The weird phone call had only interrupted the ‘study’ portion. 

“Who was that?”

Victor rubbed his face. “There should be a statute of limitations on friendships you make as an undergrad. After ten years or so, people should forget you ever existed.”

“Old buddy, huh? They hitting you up to join a pyramid scheme?”

“It’s actually weirder.” He pulled a textbook out from where he’d been lying on it and got more comfortable on the bed. “Did I ever tell you I got into a sex cult the summer after my freshman year?”

Ruby set her notecards on the nightstand and gave her boyfriend a look. “No, you never mentioned that. I guess that explains why you’re so enthusiastic about the tantric stuff.”

“Tantra is legit. This stuff was kooky. I mean, it was just drugs and sex and New Age nonsense. Opening your mind to the sensuality of the universe and banging your brains out against the doors of perception.”   

“And this is why I make you wear condoms.”

“Yeah, and you’re not wrong. Anyway, all the love-in mumbo-jumbo culminated in a trip to Australia. It was basically Burning Man, but with ten people and no money. Miracle nobody died. When it was over, I sobered up and got ready for the fall semester. Seems like some people never left Wonderland.” 

Ruby smirked. “So what did your friend want?”

“He wanted to know if I kept in touch with any of the others. I told him to check Facebook like a normal person. Of course, normal was never Geoff’s way of doing things.”

Nodding, Ruby rubbed her chin. “Why Australia?”

“Damned if I know. Either because the laws there were more lax or because an aura of dreamlight descended on Geoff in a vision and told him where he could find enlightenment.”

“I wonder if Belle is still in Australia,” Ruby said, half to herself. “I haven’t heard from her in a few weeks. Figured it was just the time difference. I should call her.”

“You said she was pregnant, right? How far along is she now?”

“I dunno, I guess four months?”

“I hope she finally found an OB.”

“I’m sure she did, Doctor Whale,” Ruby teased. “But I think I should call her. Just to make sure nothing as crazy this is happening in her life.” 

#nephila #rumbelle #swanfire #once upon a time #spiders

[faintingheroine]

From Berna Moran’s essay “Bihter or Nihal?”:

“So Uşaklıgil, even if without wanting to, developed two themes in Aşk-ı Memnu. If we look at the Nihal plot, we can interpret the line of her getting lonelier as a “coming of age” theme. Developing from childhood to young girlhood, from simplicity to maturity, from ignorance to being conscious. Nihal developing from a child to a young girl is already celebrated within the novel with a ceremony of initiation (her being veiled) and as Nihal transfers from one phase of life to another she develops a new understanding about people and life due to her painful experiences and arrives at a new level of consciousness. But this theme in the novel is devoid of depth, weak and it is Bihter’s story that the reader remembers”.

Moran is kinder to Nihal’s plot in the chapter of his book “A Critical Look at Turkish Novels 1”, because he discovered the paradise lost angle (that @literatureismyentirepersonality developed much better than him tbh) but he still clearly prefers Bihter.

Two things:

1) I resent the idea that Uşaklıgil didn’t know what he was doing and accidentally developed two plots of Bihter and Nihal.

I am quoting this passage a lot but I think it is hard evidence against the claim that Uşaklıgil accidentally developed the parallel plots of Bihter and Nihal:

“Such a conversation was taking place for the first time between Mlle de Courton and Bihter. Suddenly the old girl found herself in a difficult position between a daughter and a step-mother; suddenly she felt that today, right here, in this country realm, in the dialogue that took place before that ball game, her situation in the house would be changed, and then a life would begin that was insufferable for her. Finally that thing that had been feared, that had been delayed for a year, but that could never be kept from occurring, was finally beginning. Bihter and Nihal were taking out the claws that longed to tear at each other. The old girl was saying to herself, ‘whose fault is it? No one’s!… In the affair itself… Step-mother and daughter! After all, the lives of these people are, for all of history, either a comedy or a tragedy. How will this play end between Bihter and Nihal? I am afraid lest it be a comedy for one and a tragedy for the other…’”

Mademoiselle de Courton is practically winking to the camera that this novel has two plots, one is Nihal’s and one is Bihter’s, and one will end like tragedy and one will end like a comedy! What more do you need???

2) “But this theme in the novel is devoid of depth, weak, and it is Bihter’s story that the reader remembers”

OKAY BUT THIS IS JUST YOUR SUBJECTIVE OPINION

#aşk ı memnu #aşk-ı memnu #nihal #bihter #berna moran

[liebesfraulein]

View of the Königssee from the Kehlsteinhaus

#kehlsteinhaus #berchtesgaden #bavaria #germany #mine #mademoiselle and her camera

[whumpacabra]

The Agent

Stalking, back from the dead, fictional politics, referenced past character death, referenced amnesia, implied past torture

[Follows The Mademoiselle]

Liza knew when she was being tailed - but she had to admit, this agent was good.

Unfortunately for him, she had no interest in being cornered by some MI6 Interpol schmuck who had chased her across the bloody country over the past few months. If he wanted to talk, he needed to be an adult and use his words.

It was easy to slip a message to him - a simple wink and whisper to the cafe cashier to give the older gentleman in line behind her the piece of paper with her ‘number.’ What it really read was simply: Wytch Wood, 3 PM. If he was smart he would come alone. (If he was smart he wouldn’t come unarmed.)

Liza wasn’t surprised that he managed to track her down among the winding trails, but she was admittedly a little impressed by his apparently healthy cardio routine. The man hadn’t broken a sweat despite obviously running to make the appointment.

“You’re looking dashing today, Jackson.” It was her turn to play coy. “You’re letting yourself go silver - I hear that’s quite popular these days.”

“Christ, I’m starting to look my age.” He huffed, walking alongside her. His icy eyes appraised her quickly - he certainly picked up that she was armed under her jumper. Her eyes traced the holster strap for his own weapon.

“You don’t look a day over 35, dear.” She smoothly took his arm, flashing him a look before a jogger came around the corner, smiling at them as he continued down the path. Liza dropped the agent’s arm as soon as he was out of sight. “I don’t take kindly to tails, Jackson. What the fuck do you expect to find?”

“You.” Something in his tone piqued her curiosity. He sounded secretive and wary, and not in the way most agent’s sounded when asking her for…personal favors. “I needed to meet with you on your terms - no comms, no cameras.”

“What do you want that you don’t want getting back to your coworkers?” She rounded on him with a huff, a confused smile tugging at her lips. “Is this a date? And here I thought you - ”

“It’s about the Wolf.”

Liza’s jaw snapped shut, her carefree posturing stuttering for just a second as she recovered her facade. What could she tell him, really? She knew an old friend by that name. A good kid, who died young.

“If I heard something from any of my contact you would know. Why this secrecy - ?”

“You know more than you’re letting on. You know something - Liza, please.” He was desperate.

“Were you fucking the American he killed or something? I’m all for a bit of revenge, but my help comes at a price.”

“No.” The curl of disgust and cold rage in Jackson’s voice was, admittedly, intoxicating. Liza didn’t expect her affections to be reciprocated, but damn if she didn’t admire a man sharpened by determined and personal hate. (Thinking of Ghost, she might have a type - outside of wealthy men with short attention spans, of course.)

“Then why do you care so much about his missing murderer?”

The flash of emotion across his face was clearly not meant to be seen. Fear. Grief. Pity.

Curious.

“You’re aware Smith was staying in the same hotel as you?” His voice was low, head on a swivel as he glanced around the empty woodland path.

“Yes. Though he slept on my couch most of the time, if I remember correctly.” In spite of her best efforts to effuse some levity into her voice, Liza could feel the weight of Jackson’s anxiety as she met his gaze. “I take it your Wolf was staying in the room under Smith’s name?”

“Yes…it appears Smith…fucking hell.” He scrubbed a hand over his face, words rushed and hushed. “We were expecting to find a body with the state it was in. Smith had been tearing him apart in there.”

“But there was no body?”

“No.”

“And Smith was found blocks away professionally executed?”

“Y-yes.” Jackson stuttered, briefly considering how she had come by such details. She had told him - a woman’s intuition. (And some personal favors in Interpol.)

“What’s to say Smith didn’t kill his little Wolf and hired some help with the body? Couldn’t pay up or otherwise crossed them - easy grounds for a bullet to the skull.”

“That’s…possible.” There was flicker in Jackson’s expression. The Wolf wasn’t dead and he knew it, somehow.

“But…?”

“If Wolf’s not dead - he needs help. Or will need it soon. Do you know where he might have gone for help - ?”

“Oh, now I know you’re hiding something, love.” She squinted at the agent, biting her lip with a smile as he fidgeted. “You Interpol boys have a good set of connections for black market medics - why ask me for those contacts?”

“Well, our contacts haven’t turned anything up and there’s been no body found - ”

“Don’t bullshit me, John.” There was no fond amusement in her voice now. No more games; her patience was wearing thin. (And her curiosity was insatiable.) “I don’t care if you’ve got the Wolf locked away as your dirty little secret somewhere in London - why bother me with it? Why would I know anything - and why would anything I know be helpful - ?”

“Your reaction, when I mentioned his name.” Jackson stopped walking, a determined desperation in his voice. He must have felt he was grasping at straws. “You know something - about some Wolf - and you purposefully withheld that information.”

“Because it’s personal, jackass.” She crossed her arms over her chest, trying to calm the defensive anger coiling in her gut. “I knew a Wolf, once. He died. End of story.”

“And if it wasn’t?” His whisper was so soft she almost didn’t hear it as she turned heel to stalk away. She froze, birdsong humming through the trees.

“What?”

“What if that wasn’t the end of his story?” Jackson, ever the surprise, didn’t cower as she turned with venom in her eyes. His words carried gentle but firm. “Wolf either doesn’t remember where he was before Smith, or he if he does he won’t tell anyone.”

“Go on.” She grit out the words, resenting herself for letting the fantasy he spun tug at her atrophied heartstrings.

“As far as I can tell by our records, we’ve only had four high priority targets go by that alias. Two of which either ended up in prison or dead before the 80s. One we lost track of in the 90s, and now a new Wolf turns up on our radar with no past to speak of.” Jackson was watching her closely, carefully. “If you knew this Wolf, hypothetically, would you be able to get him out of the country and far from Interpol?”

“Hypothetically, if you were found to be harboring a man wanted for murder, you would go to prison and you would not do well there.” Liza couldn’t find the focus to smile at her own jab. “And, hypothetically, if you do have a man back from the dead on your hands, that I may or may not have known at some point in the last decade or two, I…would be inclined to consider your request for his relocation.”

"Thank you - "

"I'll organize a time and place. You get him there - take him out for a nice dinner or something."

"How are you going to tell if he's your Wolf?"

"By looking at him, of course." She smiled, though sadness tinged her eyes. "I never forget a face. Besides, the Wolf I knew - I knew him well. Don't let him know I'm there; I just need to see his face and how he acts. We can reconvene after if there's a need for a misty eyed reunion."

Liza wasn't an optimist, but the situation was...so tempting with its intoxicating hope. No matter how she tried to crush the fledgling excitement in her heart, she found herself smiling the whole day. If it wasn't her Wolf, no love lost - there was still an empty coffin to visit in Dresden. But if, somehow, this was her Wolf - Ghost's Wolf - he was back from the dead, after so many years...

(She tried to forget the details Jackson had dropped, she tried not to imagine what had to have happened to the Wolf she knew to have him heel to the call of some American agent.)

(...)

(What did it matter? If he was alive, he was alive and that was enough. Wasn't it?)

[Before Tea]

(Part of my Freelancers: Changing Tides series)

Taglist: @stargeode @sacredwrath

#whump #stalking #back from the dead #fictional politics #past character death #amnesia #implied past torture #freelancers #listen I know this little investigation miniseries isn’t that whumpy but there is gonna be some delicious angst #when liza realizes a) how fucked up the wolf got in the sandbox and b) that he really doesn’t remember much of his past (incl. her) #I am so out of routine this week I was out at the bar with my friends until like midnight the other day (very late for 8 pm me) #I slept in yesterday but couldn’t fall asleep until later last night so I woke up late today like nooooo my sleep schedule :[

[princess-of-the-corner]

Kingdom Hearts II: Final Mix Recap: Beast's Castle (Beauty and the Beast)

We open on Belle in her room, wearing the iconic yellow ballgown as she hums a tune I don’t recognize.

“I hope tonight goes well,” the Wardrobe notes.

“So do I,” Belle replies, “But I wonder why he’s so nervous.”

“The master does have his shy side, you know,” the Wardrobe points out.

Meanwhile, in the Entrance Hall, the Beast is in his iconic blue suit, pacing nervously.

While there is voice acting for the Beast nervously growling…

“Hey there!” a VA-less textbox reads.

The Beast turns to see Sora, Donald, and Goofy walk up.

Donald looks around.

“No Heartless and no Nobodies!” he declares.

“I think they’re close, though…” Goofy remarks.

“Better watch out!” Sora cautions as he folds his hands behind his head.

Beast turns towards the stairs.

In order to continue the story, you must use the “Approach” Reaction Command.

Donald asks what Beast is so mad about.

Beast just wants to know what SDG are doing here.

Sora explains that they’re looking for a way into the Nobodies’ world.

Beast’s just turns his back and “hmphs” in response.

This leads into a fully voice acted cutscene.

Belle descends the stairway.

“Tonight is very important,” Beast explains to SDG, before ascending the stairs to meet Belle in front of the ballroom.

The two link arms and step into the ballroom.

“Uh, maybe we came at a bad time,” Goofy remarks.

“Well, there’s only one way to find out,” Donald replies, before rushing up the stairs.

“Donald!” Sora calls after him, before he and Goofy give chase.

Cut to the ballroom, the camera zooms up to the ceiling, dives through the chandelier, and sweeps over the ballroom to zoom in on Belle and the Beast.

“Now then, Monsieur, Mademoiselle,” Lumiere opens as he stands alongside Cogsworth, Mrs. Potts, and Chip (not the chipmunk), “Please, enjoy the evening.”

They then notice SDG, Goofy awkwardly waving while Donald folds his hands behind the back of his head.

“And of course, our honored guests are welcome, too,” Lumiere adds.

“A welcome indeed,” Xaldin remarks.

Beast and Belle embrace in fright.

Sora dashes into the middle of the ballroom and looks around, before finding the Nobody in question looking down on the ballroom from the upper level.

“The Organization!” Sora declares.

“You don’t know when to quit,” Xaldin remarks.

“Oh yeah!” Donald replies, “We’ll show you!”

Beast glares at Xaldin.

“Get out!” he roars as he lets go of Belle to run at him.

“Not tonight!” Belle… “Grumbles” doesn’t feel like the right word, but she says that upsettedly.

Xaldin snaps his fingers, and three never-before-seen Nobodies drop in from Corridors of Darkness.

Beast swats them away, but there are two Dusks and three more of the new Nobodies already surrounding him, Sora, Donald, and Goofy.

“I’ve come to take something you hold very dear,” Xaldin announces.

Beast roars in response.

“Yes,” Xaldin remarks as he disappears into a Corridor of Darkness, “Let your anger grow…”

“Beast! We’ve got to get rid of these guys first!” Sora reminds him.

Beast is in his party (wearing his regular outfit, rather than the fancy suit), and you’re given a chance to toggle your party as needed before officially starting the battle.

As implied by the never-before-seen Nobodies, new Nobodies are introduced here: Dragoons.

Dragoons wear dragon-headed hoods (which makes it look as though they have faces on their necks), wings sprouting from their backs, and they also wield lances.

They primarily attack with their lances, occasionally jumping and diving down like a Final Fantasy Dragoon, and a couple of their attacks leave behind white orbs.

These white orbs give the “Learn” Reaction Command, which turns “Attack” into “Jump”.

Jump leads to Sora copying the signature move of the dragoons of Final Fantasy fame, leaping into the air and diving down onto his target, Keyblade first.

You can use Learn to stack up to 10 Jumps. Once you run out of Jumps, “Jump” reverts back to “Attack”.

Very rarely, they’ll drop a “Nobody Lance”, a Staff for Donald. It gives +5 Strength, +5 Magic, and Item Boost.

After the battle, another textbox cutscene:

“Where’s Belle!?” Sora asks.

“Over here!” Belle answers.

She walks in from the balcony, with Lumiere, Mrs. Potts, Chip, and Cogsworth following closely behind her.

“Whew, she’s okay,” Sora notes.

“Guess Xaldin didn’t take anything after all,” Goofy notes.

The Beast visibly gasps and runs out of the room.

“What’s wrong?” Sora asks.

Belle rushes after him.

“Belle?” Sora questions, “What’s with them?”

“Maybe Belle isn’t the only thing precious to the Beast,” Goofy suggests.

“C’mon!” Donald invites.

Beast has left the party.

In order to progress the story, you need to go to the Beast’s Room.

The Beast is pacing angrily. He roars and slams the ground.

“What’s wrong?” Belle asks.

Beast growls and seethes.

“Please, calm down!” Belle begs.

The Beast swipes through the air to shove his cape out of the way, unknowingly swiping close to Belle’s face.

“Calm down?” he snaps, “You just had to have a party, didn’t you? Do you see what’s happened?”

“Hey,” Sora interjects, “What’s with you?”

“The rose…” Beast answers, “My rose…”

The camera cuts over to where the Enchanted Rose once was, only for the rose itself to be gone.

“What, that?” Sora asks, “He took it?”

“But surely, you can find another rose…” Belle replies.

“Silence!” Beast snaps as he swipes through the air (his claws coming pretty close to Sora’s chest), “You don’t know anything!”

Sora jumps between Beast and Belle.

“That’s not fair, Beast,” Sora scolds, “Don’t take it out on Belle! It’s not like she stole it!”

Beast growls and covers his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Belle replies.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Sora insists.

Beast averts his eyes.

“Belle… Sora…” he opens, much calmer than earlier, “I want you to leave the castle.”

Belle is visibly shocked at that order.

“Look at me. Look,” Beast continues, “This is what I am.

“When you first got here, I tried to change.

“But I was only fooling myself. I can’t be any different.

“I’ll always be a beast. So, I should live like a beast.

“With no one, alone.

“Good-bye, Belle.”

“You can’t mean that…” Belle protests.

Beast tries to meet her gaze, but can’t bring himself too.

“Aw, I think his mind’s all made up,” Goofy whispers into Sora’s ear.

“Yeah,” Sora acknowledges, before turning to Belle, “Look Belle. Leave this to us.

“If we can get the Beast’s rose back, he’ll calm down.”

Belle shoots a sad look over her shoulder, before walking out.

Out in the West Wing, we see Mrs. Potts, Cogsworth, and Lumiere.

“Poor child,” Mrs. Potts remarks.

Belle walks up to the trio, waves, and continues on her way.

“How could it come to this?” Cogsworth wonders.

“And they were so looking forward to this evening…” Lumiere remarks.

“Now, now – no need to be so sad,” Mrs. Potts assures, “Once the rose is back safely, this will all be over.”

Sora asks what’s so special about the rose, and the others explain the extra details for the curse.

Namely, the fact that the Beast has until the last petal falls to love and be loved in return.

As such, the Beast has had to take good care of the rose, and it became a cherished part of his day-to-day life. It’s the embodiment of all his hopes and dreams. As long as that rose is alive, there’s hope that he can regain his humanity.

Sora is now even MORE determined to help the Beast get it back, but also acknowledges that they can’t get it back without the Beast.

“If it’s that important to him, he has to do it himself.”

If you go back into the Beast’s Room, you’ll notice something in the back right corner.

An Absent Silhouette, this one depicting a scythe.

When passing through this one, Sora is transported to a smaller version of the Station to Oblivion, where he fought the Specter.

Petals swirl around the Absent Silhouette until it transforms into Marluxia.

At the start of the battle, Marluxia teleports to Sora’s side and whispers something into his ear.

A number equal to Sora’s current level materializes over his head.

Marluxia has just cast Doom on Sora.

Now, every time Sora is hit, in addition to his HP decreasing, the number above his head will drop by one.

If it drops to zero, Sora will be instantly killed.

Making matters worse, Marluxia has some attacks which will ONLY lead into combos if they hit Sora, meaning that even if you have abilities that’ll keep Sora alive at 1 HP, he can STILL get instakilled by Doom.

Marluxia attacks with his scythe, but can also generate thorny vines, sink into the ground and spin his scythe like a buzzsaw blade to strike Sora, and also create red circles that will produce danger zones that damage anyone standing in them when their insides turn black.

Marluxia’s most powerful attack has him float behind Sora while the lights are dim, firing off fifteen petal  geysers consecutively (forcing Sora to keep moving) and then throwing his scythe at Sora as the finishing blow.

Whenever Marluxia rests, Sora can run up to him to use one of two Reaction Commands:

Aerial Strike: Prompted when Sora runs up to Marluxia while he’s resting. Sora attacks Marluxia three times and knocks him back, acting as a finisher.

Restore Count: Prompted when Sora approaches Marluxia’s scythe while he’s resting. Sora steals it, slashes Marluxia with it, knocks him back, and then throws the scythe at Marluxia. This deals no damage to Marluxia, but raises the Doom Counter by 13, allowing Sora to absorb more hits before he’s insta-killed.

When Marluxia is defeated, he reverts back to his Absent Silhouette, which fades into pink petals.

Defeating Marluxia’s Absent Silhouette rewards Sora with +1 Drive Gauge, Donald with +3 Max HP, and Goofy with +3 Max HP. He also leaves behind another “Lost Illusion” synthesis material, and the “Eternal Blossom”, another synthesis recipe.

This allows Sora to synthesize the Full Bloom, an accessory that gives +3 strength and +10 AP. (The upgraded version gives MP haste as well.)

Using the “Persuade” Reaction Command on the Beast continues the story.

“Hey, Beast,” Sora greets.

The Beast groans.

“Leave me alone,” he mopes.

“C’mon, you need to hear this,” Sora continues, “You used to be fearless. You would have given your life to save Belle. Don’t you know what that meant to us? You gave us all courage.

“Hmph, maybe you should have kept some for yourself.

“I mean, are you really gonna throw your happiness away?

“The rose is your only hope, isn’t it? Well, it’s the only hope for Cogsworth and the others, too.

“So, don’t throw away your last chance. Remember what it was like before Belle lived here?”

The Beast looks up, his face hardening into a more determined expression.

“See?” Sora continues, “You can’t give up. Not now.”

“I know one thing,” Beast replies.

“What?” Sora asks.

“This castle belongs to me!” Beast answers as he turns to face Sora, “Xaldin will NEVER be welcome here.”

And it would appear as though I was wrong about Circle of Life being the only mid-Disney world Keyblade, because this rewards Sora with Rumbling Rose.

Rumbling Rose grants +5 Attack, +0 Magic, and Finishing Plus (allows the user to unleash an additional  combo finisher after landing a combo finisher).

Reminder: humanoid bosses in this game have Revenge Values which are triggered every few Finishers. Think VERY carefully about what fights you take this Keyblade into.

You also get the Castle Walls Map, granting access to your minimap in the area surrounding the Castle.

Beast rejoins the party.

In order to progress the story, you need to go to the Entrance Hall.

“So Beast… You came after all.” Xaldin comments as he holds the rose, standing atop a windowsill above the doors to the ballroom, “You had me worried. I was afraid you’d given up for good.”

The Beast looks up at Xaldin and growls at his nemesis.

“What do you guys really want?” Sora shouts.

“… Kingdom Hearts,” Xaldin answers.

That shocks Sora.

Xaldin FINALLY lowers his hood, revealing a head covered in black hair, with dreadlocks coming out of both the top of his head AND his sideburns.

“When Kingdom Hearts is ours, we can exist fully and completely.”

Donald lets out a confused quack as he shares a glance with Goofy.

“So you see, Beast – that’s why we need your Heartless AND your Nobody!”

Cue Nobody swarm as “Desire for All That is Lost” plays.

When the last Nobody falls, Xaldin gracefully lands in front of the doors leading out to the courtyard, smirks at the Beast, then waltzes right on out with the rose, closing the door behind him.

I suggest you save before following him.

Sora, Donald, Goofy, and the Beast fan out to look for Xaldin as soon as you exit the castle.

Goofy notices Belle moping up on her balcony, back in her casualwear.

She notices Goofy motioning at her to hide and, remembering that Beast ordered her to leave (even if he seems to have calmed down enough to work with Sora and the others) decides to go back into her room, only to find the rose is also with her on the balcony.

She grins, picks it up and calls down to the others to reveal that she found the rose.

The second Beast notices, Xaldin clamps a hand over Belle’s mouth.

“Belle!” the Beast cries out in horror.

Xaldin, having everything he needs for his plan, leaps from Belle’s balcony and over the walls outside the castle in a single bounc.

The Beast, tired of Xaldin’s game chases after them, SHOVES his way through the siege gates (meant to stand up to BATTERING RAMS) with his shoulder, allowing the party to chase Xaldin out onto the Bridge.

“You!” the Beast growls at Xaldin, “Get out of my castle, now!”

“With pleasure,” Xaldin replies, holding the rose with one arm and Belle with the other, “but I’d rather travel light…

“What shall I leave behind?

“Belle?

“Or the rose?”

The Beast growls and sees the fear on Belle’s face.

“Belle!” he answers, charging at Xaldin in case this is another trick.

Belle, equally sick of Xaldin meddling in her love life, elbows him in the gut, grabs the rose, and runs right past the Beast, Sora, Donald, and Goofy with an audacious grin on her face so it won’t be damaged in the coming brawl.

“Good one, Belle!” Sora cheers.

With Belle safely out of the way, the Beast charges Xaldin and attempts to gore him with a slash of his claws.

Xaldin leaps out of the way, landing further down the bridge.

With a sweep of his arms, he conjures six tornados around himself, and transforms the whirlwinds into lances.

The lances shoot up into the air.

He grabs one into his right hand, two into his left, and lets the remaining three hover in the breeze around him.

Xaldin attacks primarily with thrusts of his lances, Dragoon Jumps, and blasts of wind.

He can shoot a slow-moving ball of air that homes in on Sora.

Very rarely, he can also combine his lances into a draconic mecha, ride atop its head, and fire a sweeping whirlwind beam across the bridge.

However, some of his attacks will give the “Learn” Reaction Command, allowing Sora to stock up “Jumps” to hit Xaldin with.

Be warned, he is invincible while riding his lances.

Additionally, this is another battle the King can save Sora from.

This is by far one of the hardest boss fights in the whole game, so if ANY boss battle will prompt multiple Mickey Mouse rescues, it’ll be this one.

You can also SPAM Learn in this battle for as long as it’s up, and uses MULTIPLE Jumps if necessary. Jump can even be used to dodge Xaldin’s attacks and damage him in turn.

Be warned, he has access to KH1’s version of Aeroga, meaning he can wrap himself in a barrier of pure wind that deals damage on impact.

Defeating Xaldin earns Sora +5 Max HP and a Reflect Element (upgrading “Reflect” into “Reflera”), Donald Auto Healing (heals party members when they are not an active member of the user’s party), Goofy +4 Max HP, and Beast +25 Max HP.

Xaldin’s six lances all stab into the ground in a circle around him and glow as each one evaporates into a beam of light.

Xaldin can only scream as he fades from existence, vanishing into a gust of wind.

Secret Ansem Report 4:

The distant days spent in that beautiful paradise are an illusion to me now.

How long have I been here, banished to the realm of nothingness?

It is only by relying upon my anger and hatred that I have been able to retain my sense of self here where all existence is nullified.

My heart is being overcome with hatred toward my apprentices, possessed by the darkness, and with the anger I feel for stupidly allowing myself to be betrayed.

Is this darkness, eating away at my heart?

I cannot continue to idle away my time here.

What are Xehanort and the others attempting to do?

I must unravel the mystery of these Ansem’s Reports, intercept my apprentices, and defeat them.

That is my mission…the only way to repay the world for my sins.

Those beings who lack hearts—the Heartless—must be the key.

The darkness of the heart, made flesh. Cursed shadows who not only lack hearts, but multiply by seizing hearts from any and all living things.

Where have they come from, and where are they going?

Three elements combine to create a life: a heart, a soul, and a body.

But what of the soul and body left behind when the heart is lost?

When the soul leaves the body, its vessel, life gives way to death, but what about when the heart leaves?

A being does not perish when its heart leaves its body. The heart alone disappears into the darkness.

There is little time.

If I remain in this realm much longer, I will certainly learn these answers the hard way.

My heart is already a captive of the darkness.

Back in the courtyard, Belle returns the rose to the Beast as Sora, Donald, Goofy, Lumiere, Cogsworth, Mrs. Potts, and Chip look on.

“Here, it’s yours again,” Belle says as she hands it over.

“Belle…” Beast opens.

“I know,” Belle interrupts, “You want me to leave the castle.”

The Beast grunts as the others look on with worried expressions.

“What matters is… You weren’t hurt by Xaldin…” he explains, “You’re safe.”

The others silently urge him to keep talking.

“And… I’m grateful to you…” Beast continues, “for bringing the rose back to me.

“Thank you.”

Belle giggles.

“It’s the least I could do,” she replies, Beast having placed the rose back on the ground and out of the way while it was out of frame, “You’ve been good to me. And you didn’t have to be.”

“Listen, Belle…” Beast opens.

“Yes?” Belle replies.

The Beast awkwardly tries to articulate his response, and then shoots a glance over at the others for guidance.

“Say it!” Sora tells him.

“Go on!” Lumiere adds.

“C’mon!” Donald urges.

“You can do it!” Mrs. Potts encourages.

“We have confidence!” Cogsworth throws in.

“Don’t be bashful, now,” Goofy instructs.

Beast steels his nerves.

“Belle, I’d like you to stay… With me… Please?”

Belle’s face brightens up even more.

She offers her hand, Beast takes it.

“I will.”

The Beast smiles that big, goofy grin that should not be as endearing as it is with all those razor-sharp teeth, but he just looks adorable.

“Maestro – music!” Lumiere calls out.

Belle and the Beast finally get to share that dance as an instrumental version of “Beauty and the Beast” plays. They might not be wearing their iconic outfits from the dance scene, they might not be in the courtyard instead of the ballroom, but they’ve earned this moment.

“Hey, did you see that look on Belle’s face when she grabbed that rose?” Sora asks, his hands folded behind his head as he watches his friends dance.

“Huh?” Donald quacks.

“Yep,” Goofy answers, “she sure was havin’ fun, all right.”

“She is rather unique, isn’t she?” Lumiere remarks.

“Always ready for a little adventure,” Mrs. Potts adds.

“The two of them do seem made for each other,” Cogsworth comments.

“Yeah, they sure do,” Sora agrees.

The camera zooms out from the Beast and Belle as the instrumental fades out.

Beast’s Castle’s story is finally complete.

Back on the world map, Olympus Coliseum finally reappears.

“Hey everybody!” Chip alerts SDG, “I’m picking up a strange reading.”

“Are you sure?” Dale asks, “Let me see!”

“Look – it’s all cloudy and kinda fuzzy,” Chip explains.

“Prob’ly just a glitch,” Dale remarks.

“I don’t know…” Chip comments.

If you fly up to the top of the World Map, past Twilight Town, something is starting to materialize there.

-

 I NEED more batb stories where Belle throws hands with someone tbh. (if we’re not doing a KH crossover, I highly suggest the Enchantress).

#submission

[anotherwvba]

An Origin Story pt. 3

The rhythmic thumping of gloves against bags filled the WVBA gym, along with the shouts of coaches and the grunts of boxers pushing themselves. Glass Joe was at the speed bag, his fists dancing in time with a French song he hummed to himself. Cutie Hondo, her fists wrapped and gloved, was engrossed in her heavy bag workout.

Keep your guard up, always. Remember, it's not just about power; it's about precision, Cutie thought, visualizing her next opponent, whoever she may be. Come on, girl. Pop that jab.

Across the gym, Viktor Von Kaiser was instructing a kids' beginners class in one of the boxing rings. "Remember, kleine Kämpfer, always keep your hands up. Like this," he demonstrated, his thick German accent filling the air.

The whole atmosphere changed when the gym doors flew open and a flurry of camera flashes filled the room. A small group of press photographers backed into the gym as an entourage accompanied a woman into the room. She wasn’t physically imposing, but her stylish suit and turtleneck, along with a luchadora mask and posture, radiated confidence.

A young trainee, barely a teenager, curious and eager to help, started to approach the group. "Excuse me, is there anything I can—"

Before he could finish, one of the entourage members shoved him aside. "Out of the shot, kid."

Cutie paused her workout, her eyes narrowing. She walked over to the group, her gloved hands still clenched. "Hey, what's the big idea? This is a gym, not a red carpet."

As she spoke, another member of the entourage moved to shove her aside. But Cutie was quicker; she sidestepped and pushed him away with her gloved fist. “Bad idea, buddy.”

Before the man could retaliate, the masked woman raised a hand to stop him. She looked Cutie up and down, her gaze lingering on the gloves. "¿Quién eres tú?" she asked, her voice tinged with a Mexican accent.

"Cutie Hondo. I’m a fighter in the WVBA Women’s Circuit. And who might you be?" Cutie retorted, her eyes meeting the masked woman's icy gaze.

The man Cutie had shoved earlier answered indignantly, "You're speaking to the former 4-time Campeona Mexicana de Lucha Libre Femenil, undefeated MMA fighter, and soon-to-be WVBA Women's Champion—'La Realeza del Anillo,' Reina Adora."

Glass Joe, who had stopped his speed bag workout to see what the commotion was about, approached the group. "Ah, 'The Royalty of the Ring,' is it? Seems a bit presumptuous, non?"

Reina turned her attention to Glass Joe. "Is that a challenge, Francés?" she inquired, her tone cold.

Glass Joe straightened his posture, but met her gaze. "Non, mademoiselle. Just an observation. One must earn their titles here."

Cutie chimed in, "He's right. Your past accomplishments won't mean much in the WVBA. But you're welcome to put in the work, join us in the gym, and prove yourself in the ring."

The man Cutie had shoved earlier opened his mouth, as if offended, but Reina cut him off. "I'm here to see the competition, not to join it. I have a private gym. No need to associate with those I'll be defeating soon enough."

Cutie clenched her fists, her eyes narrowing. "Then maybe you should leave. This is a place to train and hone the art of boxing, not a studio for a photoshoot."

Reina smiled at Cutie, her eyes twinkling behind her mask. "I hope I face you soon, Señorita Hondo. Me encantaría noquearte," she said, her words dripping with anticipation.

“There’s a ring right there, kamen no josei,” Cutie replied, “Kite. Kite. Makeru no ga kowaidesu ka?”

Glass Joe stepped beside Cutie and put his hand on her shoulder, sensing her rising tension. "Let it go, Cutie. She'll learn soon enough."

With that, Reina smiled at Cutie, then she and her entourage turned on their heels and exited the gym, the door closing behind them with a resounding thud. The camera flashes ceased, but the tension they'd left in their wake remained.

#punch out #punch-out #punch-out!! #super punch out #super punch-out #super punch-out!! #punch out wii #punch-out wii #punch-out!! wii #punch out oc #punch-out oc #punch-out!! oc #punchout #superpunchout #punch out fanfic #punch-out fanfic #punch-out!! fanfic #wvba #cutie hondo #reina adora #von kaiser #glass joe

[outcast-thingz]

Allllrighty everyone here we had today the 4.2 Special Program! First and formost, the codes. This one is kinda a doozy since it has *everything* new events, characters, areas, items, you name it it's probably there. You have until 12am Nov 4 to get those codes in. Y'all know the deal rest of the info is below the cut

VA97KJNF24UV (100 primos 10 mystic enchantment ore)

NTQP2KPEJMUH (100 primos 5 adventurers exp)

9T96KJNE2LVM (100 primos 50,000 mora)

~Banners~

Phase 1: Furina & Baizhu (5 star) Charlotte (4 star)

Phase 2: Cyno & Ayato (5 star)

~Furina~

-Hydro sword

-Each member of her little Hydro entourage has a name! Maid -> Mademoiselle Crabaletta :: Housekeep -> Surintendante Chevalmarin :: Conferencier -> Gentilhomme Usher

-Passive Talent can decrease the CD on the abilities gained from Xenochromatic Fontemer Aberrants

-Defults to Ousia charged attacks changes the alignment and it will change how her elemental skill works

-Ousia: Elemental skill will summon "Salon Members" which deal hydro dmg it looks like.. didn't really hear them talk about this part much

-Pnuema: Elemental skill will summon "Singers of Many Waters" to provide Healing to nearby party memebers. They will stay out for some time even *after* Furina is switched out.

-Elemental Burst deals damage to surrounding opponents. When party's HP increases OR decreases she will accumulate fanfare points. The more points the more Furina increases the DMG and incoming healing bonus of near by party members.

-SUPER COOL FACT! Whenever Furina's summons are out -She- gains the ability to walk on water

~Charlotte~

-Cryo Catalyst

-her camera has a name apparently and its Monsieur Verite *how cute*

-Elemental skill applies "Snappy Sillhouette" to opponents caught within the viewfinder of her Kamera, during the effect's duration it will intermitedly deal cryo dmg. Holding the skill strenghtens these effects and applies "Focused Impression" to opponents instead

-Elemental Burst creates a field that continuously restores HP to party members within its range. Monsieur Verite will intermitedly deal cryo during the burst's duration.

-When paired with Fontaine characters she receives a healing bonus

-When paired with nonfontaine characters she receives a cryo dmg bonus

-Zoom lens is an item for her but is further discused in an event section below (first person camera opportunities) "First Person Shutter"

~Misc.~

-Furina story quest

-New Weekly Boss: has phases it looks like 2 could be 3?? 1st phase will have large AOE attacks

-Struggling with the new boss and can't move on with the archon quest because of it? Worry not. If you fail there will now be an option to lower the difficulty during the main quest.

-World Quest "The Wild Fairies of Erinnyes" should be involve the Melusines

-New Daily Boss: hydro thing that can throw spears it looks

-New update to the "Narzissenkreuz Adventure" questline!

-Travellers that are at Adventure rank 40 or above will have the option to "Quick Challenge" a weekly boss. all of them except Storm Terror and Boreus

-3 new character cards and 3 new action cards in TCG

-Accelerate Duel feature will be added

-Deck sharing codes will also be a thing

-you can now save 20 decks

-you can now *choose* if you want to accept a story quest after unlocking it

-prerequisite quests have been made clearer

~Events~

-Thelxie's Fantastic Adventure~ Earnable Freminet! STAGE 1: repairing circuits fun puzzle stuff STAGE 2: use echo conch to find parts for le penguin STAGE 3: domain levels the penguin will help and provide buffs

-FUNGI EVENT IS BACK (they hope to make it permanent but don't think it's ready yet!! a note from the devs)

- Graph Adversarial Technology Experiment Log (say that 10x fast...) -> a photo event and might be able to share with friends. At the end of the quest the travelers will get the *Zoom lens*. The Lens can be used with all Kamera's obtained in the game up to this point BUT can't be used in combat. ***However*** As discussed previously holding Charlotte's skill you can snap pics while fighting and in domains!

-Misty Dungeon: Realm of Water -> Domain leyline thing that has Trial and your characters to choose from if what you have doesn't meet the buffs

-ley line overflow will happen again at the end of 4.2

~New Area~

~Erinnyes Forest~

-Loch Urania -> strong wind storm rising from the middle of the lake, looks interesting

-Foggy Forest Path -> has an ethereally epic water tree looking thing

-Weeping Willow of the Lake -> looks withered and may need us to clean it up like in Sumeru but it's contaminated bacterial mats instead of 'withered areas' ooo~ *Honestly I'm just excited to have a big Weeping Willow*

-New Fontemer Aberrant, the Xenochromatic Ball Octopus -> gets used to cleanse the mats

-with special device they can uses the Ball Octopus's abilities on land as well

~Morte Region~

-FINALLY SOME ANSWERS ON THAT TOWER ajkfgvbbg (I keep mistaking it for Storm Terrors lair area but it is very much not tha area so I really wanted to see what was up with this tower)

-you need to unlock four seals around it

-seems to have a connection with the primordeal sea???

#i was hella late to writing all this but i got it! #genshin impact #genshin #special program genshin #genshin 4.2

[aifastic]

Interview With The Spy

Hello everyone! I gladly present you with my piece for INTRUDER ALERT!: A TF2 Spy Zine. We’re having leftover sales until DECEMBER 19th (12/19/22) at 12:00 PM PST, in case you’re interested in acquiring some items!

Link to the store here: https://tf2spyzine.bigcartel.com/

I hope you enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed witing it! Thank you @tf2spyzine for the opportunity ♥

Fandom: Team Fortress 2 Rating: T Characters: RED Spy, OC’s, RED Team Summary: Lana Hopkins has been looking forward to this interview for ages. Devlin is just scared. The team is nowhere to be seen. And Spy is... Spy.

Interview With The Spy

"Aren't you nervous?" the photographer asked, anxiously looking to the sides and fidgeting with the collar of his shirt. "I mean, he's a murderer. They all are. Oh, dear." He looked like he might faint.

"That's the fun of it!" Lana Hopkins said, barely containing her excitement.

She'd been looking forward to this for ages–after years of wasting all her redaction skills on the horoscope, Hat Wearing Mann had finally given her the opportunity to shine with the interview of her life. At last, she'd be able to delve into the mind of one of the most elusive men in the country, maybe even the world!

Many had tried to learn more from the Teufort Nine, only to disappear after the attempt. But she'd make sure to prevail this time, and get the note that would make her career skyrocket. She would.

The Spy had been previously described as "a puzzle, wrapped in an enigma, shrouded in riddles, lovingly sprinkled with intrigue, express mailed to Mystery, Alaska," and she couldn't help but agree–there were no legal documents to prove the existence of that man. He was a rumor, a deadly one at that, and he made sure not to leave any traces behind, be it of his professional conquests or his romantic ones. His lovers had him in high esteem; his enemies feared him. And that was the extent of the knowledge she had earned from her research.

"Hey!" The photographer waved a hand in front of her eyes, awakening her from her thoughts. "Are you… okay?" He sounded worried, but more so for her mental stability than anything else.

"I'm fine, uh… Dolan." She waved him off.

"I'm Dylan," he said, exhausted. She mentally brushed it off. She didn't have time nor space in her mind to devote it to remembering useless information like the photographer's name.

"Anyways," she said, and promptly started to walk away from the rental car they'd used to get there, heading to the RED base. "Let's get moving!"

-----

The base, anticlimactically enough, seemed empty that day.

"Where are all the mercenaries? I thought we'd get to see them in action!"

"I'm afraid that won't be possible, my dear," said a voice behind her. She gasped and turned back. The Spy was standing behind them, a cigarette in hand and a smug smirk on his face. When did he–?

"Holy fuck!" Donald yelled, almost dropping the camera.

"Careful!" Lana hissed, and turned to look at their host with what she hoped was her most selling smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir!"

"The pleasure is all mine, mademoiselle." Spy grasped her hand delicately and brought it to his lips.

"Where's…everyone?" asked Devin, a twinge of awkwardness in his voice.

Spy looked visibly annoyed for a moment, but he quickly put on a polite smile. "They are currently busy, running some errands." He waved their concern away with a gesture of his hand. "Now, may we head off to my smoking room?"

He led them through a couple rooms–Lana took the opportunity to read every label, examine every piece of furniture for hints of how these men lived.

"Excuse me," she asked, pointing to a closed door that read: 'TRAINING ROOM.' "What's that?"

"It's where we carry out our physical training for battle." A crash was heard inside.

"Wh–who's in there?"

"No one, monsieur, it's just…Some boxes might have fallen off. It happens often enough." Lana thought she heard him mutter: "...Supposed to be soundproof…" But before she could comment on that, he pointed at a door with a flourish. "We are here."

Lana entered the room, taking the room in. It was…Surprisingly bare. There was little furniture besides a fireplace, several framed paintings and double lamps hanging from the walls that gave a soft lighting to the place. There was a bookshelf filled to the top with books whose titles were in a language she assumed to be French; a coffee table with a wooden globe and a half-finished whisky glass on it; and next to it, a red armchair. The only two things that looked out of place, however, were the twin wooden chairs placed in front of the armchair.

"My apologies," said Spy, courteous as ever. "I do not own more armchairs than this one, so the kitchen chairs should suffice."

"It's totally fine, don't worry!" said Lana absently while she stared at a painting of a group of dogs arm-wrestling over a poker table.

"Oh, yes, that one is an authentic Kickasso," Spy said proudly. "No photographs, please, they might ruin the canvas."

The painting wasn't what caught her attention, however: there was a piece of paper attached to the frame with a metal pin with what looked like…a pink unicorn…drawn on it. Did Spy have kids? That could catch the attention of a particular demographic–which she might or not belong to.

"Ahem," Damian cleared his throat with purpose.

"Oh, yes! Let us start. Please, make yourselves comfortable."

-----

"So, first of all I can't believe I've got the pleasure to do this interview. Are you aware of how hard you are to find?"

Spy let out a chuckle. "Yes, and I hope it stays that way. My job requires me to be unreachable, in a way. Though by what means this is achieved, well…That, I can't reveal." He winked.

"Right, professional secret. Alright, um, what can you tell us about yourself that won't get you in trouble?"

"There's not much, really, but there are a few things–otherwise, this interview would be pointless." Lana's grip on her pen tightened. "I was born in France, and espionage has always been a part of my life, in a way. I pride myself in having mastered the art of disguise and the lethal ways of the knife–although other weapons have aided my job, too."

Lana felt frustrated, but decided to press more later on. "About that…What can you tell us about your job? Your current one, I mean. Reliable Excavation Demolition is shrouded in mystery, and there's much speculation about what the Gravel Wars entail."

"Well, it is a complicated matter. Let us say we stare death in the face every day, and the reward for it will never be enough. But there is a good opportunity to grow as a professional here. I believe in that, and that's what keeps me on my feet every day."

"I see."

She stopped jotting down just to think of her next question while Duncan took some photos of Spy. She needed to ask more about his fashion opinions, according to her job, but her curiosity was winning–it was the opportunity of a lifetime. Should she press on more personal details or–?

There was a loud crash outside, and a cluster of footsteps could be heard approaching the room. Spy suddenly stood up, dropping the whisky glass he was posing with on the coffee table. "Oh, no."

"What's happening?" Lana asked, standing up.

"I don't–"

The door slammed open against the wall, and a guy wearing a helmet led a group of seven very angry, red-clad men.

"TRAITOR!"

"Who–" Lana turned to look quizzically at Spy, only to find his chair empty. She looked around–Spy had disappeared in thin air!

"Typical," said a tall man wearing a crooked hat–is that the Sniper? "He puffed away."

"No way! Spy, if you're still there, you can't lock us up for no reason–Wait." The young guy stopped, blinking at Lana and Devon in surprise. "Who the hell are you?"

"We are reporters!" Lana said, ignoring her workmate's desperate hand signals. "We are here to interview Spy–"

"The Ma'am has a No Reporters policy, I'm afraid," a short guy with a heavy Texan accent replied. "I dunno how Spy managed to let you in."

'Ma'am'?

"Great. Our interviewee disappeared and now we're gonna get killed," Devon whined, and Lana elbowed him.

"Not necessarily. Hey, we aren't going to get y'all in trouble. We just need a couple tips about Spy…Maybe a little gossip?"

"Oh, boy, do we have gossip!" Everyone exchanged glances and grinned.

-----

"Come on, Spy, it's a little bit funny. You thought it was Dapper Cadaver."

"You told them I snore?!"

"It's true, though," Sniper said, hitting him on the head with his own rolled copy of the magazine–which Lana had sent them all in thanks.

"That's what you get for locking us up in the goddamn training room. Do you know how long Soldier made us train there?"

"We couldn't afford to waste time!"

"I will kill you all. But especially the one who thought giving them the spycrab photo was a good idea."

"That was me," Heavy said, casually cracking his neck.

"Never mind." Spy deflated against the couch like a fragile Victorian child.

-----

"The boss loved the interview, Dustin!"

"It's Dylan," he replied almost reflexively. "And I'm just glad to have come out alive, to be honest."

"Don't be such a party pooper!" Lana reproached him. "I'm happy that we could unveil a more human side of him."

"I guess me too," he said with a smile.

#Team Fortress 2 #fanfiction #Spy #TF2 Spy #RED Spy #RED Team #OCs #tf2 spy zine