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wife-of-all-dilfs · 7 months

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rosé | f. odair

(final part of red wine)

part one, part two

summary: in the final part of the red wine series, secrets are revealed, and miscommunication threatens to tear you and finnick apart.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

warnings: angst, fluff, blood, minor injury, mentions of forced prostitution, swearing,

notes: i’m sorry this took so long to come out y’all. thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed this mini fic <3

word count: 4.1k

Finnick believed he had made a lot of smart decisions in his life—like rigging a net made out of vines to ensnare tributes in the arena, accepting secrets as a form of payment from his patrons rather than material goods, and mastering the art of seduction to manipulate his way out of various difficult situations. However, shutting you out was not one of them.

Half an hour had passed since the incident on the staircase landing. He lingered within the mansion’s extravagant walls, where other guests mingled and dined on a range of bizarre delicacies. He couldn’t eat a thing. His stomach churned at the image of your hopeless expression as he walked off. The expression he caused.

It had to be done. That is what he had been telling himself. It had to be done, otherwise, everyone in the Capitol would learn of his feelings for you. Snow would find out and most likely punish you for interfering with the arrangement he had—the sale of his body. And Finnick was very aware of what happened to people who disrupted the president’s plans.

Partygoers would have already begun to spread rumours of the scene in the courtyard. Hopefully, it would just be chalked up to a simple argument between friends. Friends. The label borderline disgusted him. You don’t fall asleep to the thought of someone and think of them the moment you wake up if you’re just friends. Nor do you look for them in every room you walk into.

Even now, Finnick was scanning the lavishly decorated banquet hall for a glimpse of your pure white gown, despite being the one who walked away. It was an instinct at this point. But there was no one in the room wearing white but him; his matching half was still outside, blending in with the winter snow. Or maybe gone home.

One colour did catch his eye though. A vibrant, almost tacky red, worn by a woman who was strutting towards him, her chin held high with pride. Finnick noticed the material of her floor-length gown. Silk. She was wearing your old dress, only the colour was incredibly off, and each hem was lined with red fur, conforming with her implanted whiskers. That was when he realised who the woman was.

Her ensemble was entirely made out of fur that clung to her body, complementing the whiskers that were embedded in her face which made her look feline.

“Where’s your dancing partner tonight?” she asked, her voice low and seductive.

The bright saturation of her dress was almost blinding as she stopped in front of him. He held back a grimace and plastered on a smile even faker than her voice. “She wasn’t up for it this time,” he lied.

“Well, everyone knows she’s out of touch with our way of life,” she said. Finnick ground his jaw, struggling to maintain his façade. Words could not explain how condescending these people were. “This dress is an adaptation of one she wore quite a while ago. Such a plain thing. I only liked the colour and bodice. The only way I could wear it in public was if I spruced it up.”

He thought back to the dress you had worn. Nobody had even come close to how phenomenal you looked. Where others needed extravagance and flounce to stand out, you only needed a simple red dress. Yet here this woman was, thinking she had the audacity to call you plain.

“I noticed. It’s very… striking.”

“Thank you, darling,” she purred. There was a predatory gleam in her eyes, like that of a wild cat about to pounce and devour its meal. “I was waiting for the perfect occasion to wear it.”

His forced smile twitched. “You’re certainly turning heads.”

“Did I turn yours?” she asked, batting her eyelashes.

Truth be told, Finnick hadn’t even remembered her existence until she walked right up to him. Obviously, he couldn’t tell her that, so he told her that she did. For a long period of time, they bounced back and forth, complimenting and flirting with each other, never dipping below the surface into a real conversation. Not that he wanted to anyway. Not with her. The only person he longed to conversate with was now out of reach.

The woman started talking about colourless topics such as the latest fashion trends in the Capitol and her opinions on the victor of the 72nd Hunger Games, all of which made Finnick wish she would just gouge his eyes out with her sharp claw-like fingernails. He couldn’t do anything but stand, smile, and agree. Doing anything else would result in Snow staying true to his very detailed threats

As the conversation continued, his attention began to drift. He surveyed the outfits of everyone in the room, amusing himself by deciding whether or not each person was making a fashion statement or tragedy. Only one person claimed the former title—the one in white.

Finnick watched as you entered the room. The giant golden chandelier cast down a bright light which caused your skin to glow with radiance; its glare enhanced the brilliance of your white dress. This brief moment ignited a fear in him that you had died in his absence because there was no way a mere human being could look so angelic.

“Finnick?” the feline asked, but her voice barely registered in his brain.

Captivated. He was utterly and completely captivated. One after the other, sudden realisations conjured in his mind. The first—there wasn’t a life worth living ahead of him if you weren’t by his side the whole way, and not as a friend or a fellow victor, but as his partner. His lover. The second—he would never let any harm come to you. He would keep you safe from Snow’s clutches, from the Capitol, from anyone who would put you in danger, even if it meant the two of you had to disappear into the vast forests of Panem.

And lastly, he was now absolutely certain that the woman in front of him could never compare to you, nor could anyone else in the ever-expanding universe. You were a basic human necessity to him. Without you, his heart might as well stop beating. Your laugh, your smile, your kindness, your unwavering support—every part of you kept him alive.

“Finnick?” the voice that went disregarded hissed again.

With a half-empty wine glass in hand, your anxious eyes searched the room. Finnick wanted nothing more than to sprint over, pull you into his arms, and cast away every trouble plaguing your mind. He couldn’t. Almost all eyes were on you, yet you hadn’t even seemed to notice. Only one person finally seemed to gain your attention, and that was Finnick, standing in the middle of the room, his eyes locked on yours.

The neurons firing in his brain signalled him to move and he did. But just as his legs started to walk, a forceful hand jerked his face to the side and a pair of harsh lips were crushed to his. Glass shattered on the marble flooring. Momentarily paralysed from shock, Finnick stumbled backwards, briefly catching the twisted triumphant smirk on the woman’s face before whirling around.

Your face was frozen with devastation; his heart dropped. Splatters of red wine had stained your gown, pooling in a crimson puddle of glass shards by your feet. Quiet mocking chuckles and whispers echoed around the room. Oh, if only he had his trident; they wouldn’t be laughing then.

An Avox rushed forward, attempting to clean up the mess, but you had crouched down with them.

“No, please,” Finnick heard you say to the Avox as he strode toward you. “Please don’t. I can do it.”

But delicate hands and glass shards never mix well. You gasped in pain. A jagged fragment you collected had sliced into your palm, creating another crimson pool in your hand.

Finnick’s strides quickened, eventually leading him to stop and kneel beside you. He wordlessly took your hand in his, cradling it as he inspected the damage. Blood coated his fingers, but he didn’t care. He might as well have cut your hand himself. None of this would have happened if it weren’t for him.

Pink blush overtook your face. For once, it wasn’t because he made you flustered or bashful, but because you were humiliated. He knew how much you disliked attention; now you were at the centre of it. Beside you was the Avox, tending to the mess of broken glass.

“Could you bring me a first-aid kit, please?” he asked with a polite smile.

They nodded and silently left. Finnick returned his attention to you, applying pressure to your wound. Your gaze was lowered, unwilling to meet his own. There was more to your demeanour than just embarrassment. There was sadness. Disheartenment. Neither of which were present when you walked in, only appearing after the feline woman had kissed him.

His brows furrowed in confusion. “Y/N—”

“Don’t,” you whispered, eyes unmoving.

The Avox returned holding a medical kit; Finnick thanked them, taking the box into his hands. He climbed to his feet, hesitating before offering you a hand up. Much to his relief, you accepted his assistance. And then, without a word, you began walking towards the nearest exit with apparent indifference to the engrossed eyes following you.

Finnick didn’t bother to conceal his icy glare toward the crowd as he trailed behind you and exited the room.

*******

Pain of a thousand unrelenting bees stung the broken flesh of your palm. Even the slightest movement of your fingers sent waves of throbbing agony up your arm. But it was nothing compared to the brutal ache of your heart.

You had entered the mansion in search of Finnick, determined to mend the crack in your friendship before it crumbled completely. What you got instead was humiliation and heartbreak. What you saw was another woman kissing the man you loved, whilst wearing a horrible adaptation of your red gown no less.

The air had been sucked from your lungs. Believing he would kiss you on the dance floor in the courtyard was nothing more than a fantasy, a dream, a pathetic fool’s wish—every term under the sun that defined something not real. At least now you understood why he was acting so differently. Because he had found someone else and that someone wasn’t you.

A lump formed in your throat and you knew tears were approaching. As if your night couldn’t get any more embarrassing.

Your feet carried you down a long corridor, far enough away from the banquet hall that listening ears and prying eyes were unable to reach. Finnick still followed behind you, though you weren’t sure why he bothered. How could he explain what you saw with your own eyes? Plus, the last thing you wanted was for his new romance to think something was going on between you and him. Only in your dreams.

Unsure of your destination, you decided to enter the first room you came across. It turned out to be a lavishly decorated library, walled with large wooden bookshelves which were filled endlessly with novels and historic paraphernalia. Sitting within the bookshelves was a stone fireplace.

The door closed as Finnick entered behind you, the silence so loud that the crackles from the fireplace reverberated through the room. Your hand still throbbed something awful so you looked down, taking in the gruesome sight of your dress. A stranger might have thought you had just murdered someone. If it were televised, it would have been deemed acceptable.

You sniffled, wearing a small bitter smile. “I ruined Snow’s pretty white dress.”

A few moments passed before Finnick replied. “Red always was more your colour,” he said, his tone anything but playful.

Ahead of you was a great wall of windows; in the reflection, you saw him staring back at you with an unfamiliar expression. His brows were pinched upwards, pronouncing the lines in his forehead, and the corners of his mouth drooped in a slight pensive frown. He didn’t look like the Finnick you knew. This Finnick looked pained. Anguished.

You dropped his intense gaze and ambled across the room. By the lit fireplace was a cushioned stool which you sat down on, eyes staring into the flickering flames. If you were lucky, maybe your dress would catch alight and whisk you away from your troubled life. Okay, perhaps the thought was a little morbid, but so was a broken heart. Of all people, why did you have to fall in love with Finnick Odair?

Cautious footsteps followed behind you, coming to a stop beside your feet. Without your acknowledgement, Finnick crouched down, eyeing the bloody mess of your hands with concern. His gaze lifted to yours, which was still on the fire, and he sighed.

“Let me take care of your hand,” he murmured.

Before you could refuse, you realised contracting an infection was worse than giving in to your stubbornness. So, you nodded.

Finnick opened the first-aid kit and began tending to your wound; his touch was so gentle it was like he was piecing together a broken china cup. Using an antiseptic gauze, he attempted to clean the damaged skin, whispering apologies whenever you winced in pain. After carefully applying a dressing, he began wrapping a bandage around your hand.

You stared into the orange flames, wondering how he would explain to that woman why he left her behind. You wondered when their relationship started and why Finnick continued to shamelessly flirt with you in her absence. You wondered if their relationship would be the end of your friendship.

“Are you in love?” you quietly asked.

His hands stilled at your sudden words, then he continued wrapping the bandage. “Not with her.”

He secured the binding with medical tape and climbed to his feet, placing the supplies back into the kit on a small side table.

Brows drawn together in confusion, you turned to look up at him. “But I thought—"

“Things are much more complicated than they seem,” he interrupted. There was a clear vase of white roses on the table. Finnick toyed with the petals, caressing them between his gentle fingertips. “No one understands me better than you do, and there is no one in this world I trust more. But… there are still things I’ve been keeping from you.”

The troubled expression on his face melted into one of vulnerability. This was a new appearance for him. Finnick was known nationwide for his radiant confidence and charm; he never let his guard down. You have had difficult conversations before, such as discussing each other’s hardships and innermost secrets, but none of them seemed to affect him like this.

“Everyone knows about my visits to the Capitol,” he continued. “How I spend nights with different people every time as if it’s all a game for my pleasure. But it’s not true. It’s not my game I’m playing.” He began walking over to the wall of windows, overlooking Snow’s gardens. “There’s a part of it that no one knows about.”

You rose from the stool, beginning to take slow steps towards him. “Which is?”

The fire flickering behind you deepened Finnick’s features. It intensified the shiny bronze of his hair and enhanced the defined contours of his face, making it easy to see the muscles in his jaw clench with apprehension. He stared out the window so intensely that you were sure his usual green eyes were blazing with their own inferno.

Even full of angst, he was painstakingly beautiful.

His chest inflated with a deep breath. “President Snow… sells me to the Capitol.”

Horror washed over you in monstrous waves. Sells? Only one explanation appeared in your head as to what he meant. You remained silent, praying he would prove your assumption wrong.

“After I won my Games, he saw my success as an opportunity to please his citizens. He began offering me to potential buyers—'admirers’ is what he called them—who soon became my regular customers. They would use me however they liked. Some would pounce on me the second I stepped through the door. Others were relatively tamer. Kinder. They would have me take them on dates or watch a movie with them, but one way or another, it all ended the same way at the end of the night.” He sucked in a sharp uneasy breath before continuing. “Then there were the rare few—the ones who treated me like I was nothing more than a ragdoll for their amusement. They did things that were… unspeakable.”

Nausea churned in your stomach as your mind conjured sickening images. It couldn’t be true. You refused to believe that human beings could stoop to such levels of atrocity to make one person endure so much cruelty. Then again, you lived in a world where children were sent into an arena to fight to the death on live television.

Finnick looked like he was holding himself together by a thread. Every word he confessed shattered your heart into a million pieces. How could this have happened to him?

“I’ve tried to refuse but Snow threatened to harm the people I care about—my family, my friends. After I met you, I knew you were added to that list.” He finally turned around to face you, his eyes filled with such anguish, it shook you to your core. “The Capitol owns me, Y/N. Body and soul.”

Despair riddled your entire body. As you stared at him, the image of a teenager appeared in your mind—eyes sea green and hair a fiery bronze. He was just a boy when it started. A child.

“I’m—I’m so sorry,” you managed to whisper. “I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t want you to know.” His eyes dropped to the floor. “I didn’t want you to think less of me.”

“Less of you? Finnick,” you said softly, stopping in front of him. Your eyes beckoned for his; you needed him to look at you, to really take in your next words. “There isn’t a single person alive I think more highly of than you. No one even comes close. Can’t you see? Just having you in my presence makes me feel whole. You make me whole.”

Tears glistened in his eyes as they flickered between your own, absorbing every reassuring word you said into his mind, his bones, his entire being.

“You have brought so much into my life,” you continued. “So much good. And I would never have made it to where I am now without you. So please, don’t ever distance yourself from me because you think I will judge you. I won’t and I never will.”

As the room stilled with silence, a lone tear rolled down Finnick’s cheek. His Adam’s apple bobbed, revealing the sob he was keeping restrained within his throat. And then a smile started to grow on his face, small at first, but then it stretched wider and wider, deepening those dimples that you adored so much.

You knew that your words had touched the deepest parts of him. That you had managed to convince him ‘less’ could never be a word used to describe him. He was more. More kind, more genuine, more caring than almost all of Panem.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered in awe, looking at you as if he were witnessing the birth of the universe. “Sweetheart, you’re incredible. Do have any idea how rare that is for a person to be? I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve someone like you in my life, but I swear I’ll do whatever I can to keep you. And if—” His gaze drifted, seemingly wrestling with a decision in his mind— “if that means I have to share all my secrets with you, then I will.”

“Have you got any more secrets, Finnick?”

He returned his attention back to your face. The indecision from moments ago had disappeared and was replaced with certainty, which was underscored by a sort of tenderness that settled in his features.

“Just one,” he murmured. He paused, observing the universe before him and wondering how on earth he got so lucky to have the privilege of having it staring right back at him. “I’m in love with you.”

Electricity shocked your heart like someone had placed a defibrillator over your chest and hit charge. Love? You? He was?

“What?” you asked, dumbfounded.

“I should’ve told you sooner,” he said, shaking his head. “I should have told you everything. Even if saying this means I’m risking everything between us, I can’t keep it from you any longer. God, sweetheart, I love you so much it fucking hurts. I always will, even if you never feel the same.”

Somehow in the span of twenty minutes, everything you thought you knew came crashing down. First, your heart was broken by the thought of Finnick kissing another, and then it was healed. And then it broke again as he voiced his arrangement with Snow. It could never fully heal again while Snow was alive, not with what he was forcing upon Finnick.

But Finnick pieced together every piece he possibly could with his confession, one heartfelt word of declaration at a time.

The weight of his confession hung in the air. His eyes held a mixture of anxiety and hope for your response. Time seemed to stretch out as you tried to find your voice. How do you declare your love as powerfully as someone who just bared their soul to you?

An emotional laugh bubbled up your throat, your eyes brimming with tears. “You idiot,” was what you said, the words spoken with utmost adoration. “I’ve loved you this whole time.”

Finnick’s eyes widened in amazement and a brilliant smile broke across his face. Before you had a chance to react, he had moved towards you in one swift step, pulling you into his arms and crushing his lips to yours in a powerful, passionate kiss.

Your hands were quick to cling onto him, desperately terrified that if you let go, he would vanish into thin air. Every ounce of yearning and hidden affection from the past year poured into this one single moment, into the movement of your lips against one another, and the feeling of your hands cradling each other’s bodies.

Emotions were running high. You could taste both your own and Finnick’s tears as they streamed down your faces, salty and palpable with affection. The sheer relief of finally being free to express your love was so unimaginable that you felt like you would be crying with happiness your whole life.

Finnick’s hand cupped the side of your jaw and he lowered his head, deepening the kiss as much as he physically could to make up for all the time he wasted. His lips were soft and adoring, savouring the sweet taste of your lips on his. His other arm tightened around your lower back, pulling you even further against him.

You felt like you were melting into his embrace and happily, you would have. It felt so right, so safe to be held by him. The world outside the library no longer existed; there was only Finnick and you. Your hands settled on either side of his jaw, staining his skin red from your blood-soaked bandage. You knew he wouldn’t care—the blood belonged to you.

And that is how you spent most of the night. In the library, in that one spot by the windows, in each other’s arms. At some point, you ended up sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, both covered in red and feeling blissfully content. Your back was leaning against Finnick’s chest, his arms wrapped around your middle as he occasionally pressed his lips into your hair.

You toyed with the fabric of his sleeves, your head leaning against his collarbone as you watched the flames once more.

“If Snow ever finds out…” you murmured.

“He won’t,” he reassured quietly. “I won’t let him. He’s taken too much from me; he won’t take you too.”

You turned your head to peer up at him, wearing a teasing smile. “Can’t live without me, Odair?”

He grinned, leaning in closer. “Never without you, sweetheart.”

Once again, Finnick’s lips were on yours, conveying every ounce of immense love he felt for you through his kiss. The only time either of you broke apart was to whisper sweet declarations of your devotion and reverence before returning to each other again. This was when you felt most complete.

When you felt whole.

tags: @queenofspades6 @powellssaturn @bellamybellamyblake @heroinhchicblog222

#wife-of-all-dilfs ✍️#finnick odair #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair smut #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair fanfic #finnick odair fluff #sam claflin #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #peeta mellark x reader #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen

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crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington · 8 months

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hello! i’m love your post and arts so much! I look at your posts after a hard day and my mood immediately changes to excellent. can I ask a couple of questions?

which pairing with Ethan do you prefer?

and… can we get to know you better? a little biography?

Thank you for your time! I'll be waiting for new arts! (sorry if i made mistakes, my english is not so good. im russian)

i like basically every ship with ethan! it mostly depends on the mood im in, but if im being honest, mithan, winterfield, and wintersberg gets frustrating to think about because they all dont treat ethan well canonically... lethan is fun because they have never met and i can make my own assumptions!

i used to like wintersberg the most and i still do like it, i just have expanded my horizons to other ships as well...., its mostly like a punchline to me though. they have the funniest potential which is why a majority of their posts is just joke comics. i do not like how people try to erase how karl is arrogant and egotistical tho. thats like removing the flavor.... the way karl acts is just very funny to me, hes so lame in a good way and i like how everytime he talks to ethan it sounds like hes twirling his hair and kicking his feet. canonically speaking, karl was very much in the wrong for trying to use rose and not elaborating and i will die on this hill. ethan is not in the wrong for being disgusted and angry that karl would ever try and propose that in the deal. karl is very arrogant so when ethan says no to him it makes him mad and he tries to use fear to get ethan to take his deal (kicking his chair and warning him) i like karl, i like how messed up and arrogant he is but i dislike how people try to portray him as a nice guy. however, in a AU where everythings the same except he doesnt try to use rose i do enjoy the dynamic they could have, especially if the teamed up (not with the deal where they use rose. ethan wouldnt agree unless karl never involved rose in the first place). karl is just a very entertaining character and i like him a lot, hes funny and his personality can be extremely hilarious

mia and ethan is pretty tragic and thinking about it too much makes me a bit sad, imo in a reality where ethan survives re8, he needs to divorce mia. im not saying ethan needs to hate mia and never talk to her again i just dont think they should be so intimate together because of her behavior... please do not take this as anti mia. they loved each other dearly but it wasnt healthy. their relationship was kept afloat by lies and mia doesnt change even though she deals with the consequences of her own actions in re7. she actively tries to hide her past from ethan and is mostly focused on trying to move on and have a normal life even if ethan will have to live the rest of his life in the dark.

she loves her family so much, shes very afraid of them leaving her so she hides all the bad things in the hopes that they wont leave. its selfish, its human, its real, her character is so amazing and i love her. she doesnt learn from re7 and hides important information from ethan again. i geniunly think they should have gotten divorced after re8 if ethan had survived. its tragic and its sad but they love each other so much. it sad because they both geniunly love rose so much but they themselves shouldnt be together. its just sad to think about it. whenever i draw them it usually takes place before re7. they should have divorced on good terms and shared custody of rose.........

ethan and chris is also frustrating to think about... chris is a major jerk in re8, whenever i draw it, its under a unspoken AU that chris did not behave the way he did in re8. his weird behavior in re8 is probably for a meta reason imo. capcom wanted to set up a twist villian so they make chris very vague and unesscarily cruel. while its frustrating that they turned chris into a jerk for the sake of a twist, it still happens in canon and i will forever roll my eyes whenever i see him on screen. he did what he thought was best but imo, execution matters more than the intentions. same applies to mia. they both did things that hurt ethan because they thought it would be the best but in the end they just hurt ethan.

all the ships ive discussed with people ethan has met canonically just makes it look like i dont even like the ships... LOL ... ethan just has horrible luck with the people he meets i guess... but i do enjoy the ships and drawing them, but again all of them come with the canon baggage that ends up making me sad because everyone treats ethan poorly whether they had good intentions or not

which is why leon and ethan is the most fun to draw without getting stressed... LOL... they have never met but just drawing what i think their dynamic would be like is very fun.

please dont take this post personally, this isnt a post declaring why ur fave ship sucks, this is just my own personal preferences and in the end i draw all of them anyways

if i had to rank the ships based on drawing silly comics it would be

wintersberg

mithan

lethan

winterfield

wintersberg has the funniest potential just because of karl and mithan can be funny if u water it down to "i love my wife so much" and said wife comes home with suspicious amounts of hard cash

i enjoy making joke comics far to much

if i were to rank the ships based on how healthy they would actually be for ethan it would be

lethan

winterfield, mithan, wintersberg (no particular order)

sorry 😭

leon and ethan have literally never met but imo it would still be the healthiest because ethan gets to start new

the three other ships r all unhealthy in some way, at least canonically without changing much about the characters (i do like winterfield but just because of how chris behaved in re8 it knocked them down)

i cant even rank them on personal preference because my opinion changes so often 😭 it changes based on discussions i have with my friends or recent art i see that inspires me... me and my friends recently had a discussion about mia and ethans relationship which made me very frustrated and sad with mia so i defiently wouldnt be drawing them anytime soon... meanwhile i hvae been talking to a friend who really likes winterfield often so the conversations we have give me art ideas and i end up drawing it more. if a friend of mine really enjoyed wintersberg or lethan and talked to me about it often id probably start drawing it more, the joys of being a multishipper

it changes a lot based on how im feeling and if im in the mood to draw something funny or something serious

sorry u asked a really simple question and i responded with a essay

and a little bit about myself is that i go by crumb, i am 18 and i go by all pronouns and prefer it/its

im vietnamese and live in texas

i made this tumblr acc solely so i could post my ethan art and im a re7/re8 girly so if ur here waiting for me to draw the re1-re6 characters im sorry u should probably expect nothing

i also make personal animations sometimes which u can find here

thanks for the ask and sorry for the rant!

#ethan winters #crumbessage

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ziseviolet · 9 months

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Hi! I have a question. Im not entirely sure if these belong to chinese fashion because I only ever saw them in uncredited pictures. Theyre very intricate "eye patches", seemingly made from like gold or metal? they cover only one eye and I was wondering if they have a name or if its something made up? thank you for all your work!

Hi, thanks for the question, and sorry for taking ages to reply! (x)

The intricate gold/metal "eye patches" covering only one eye that you see are most likely based on "半面妆/Ban Mian Zhuang" ("Half Face Makeup"), a popular Chinese novel written by 萧十一狼/Xiao Shi Yi Lang and published in 2015. Well-known Chinese gufeng-style illustrator 古戈力/Gu Ge Li provided beautiful artwork for the novel, as seen below (1, 2):

Gu Ge Li's artwork inspired many hanfu photoshoots with ornate eyemasks (1, 2, 3, 4, 5):

These eyemasks are essentially made-up fantasy masks with Chinese elements incorporated into the design. They are not based on historical Chinese masks, which look very different. Thus you can just call them 面具/mianju, which is the general Chinese term for masks.

On a related note, similar types of fantasy masks also appear frequently in Chinese guzhuang (period costume) films & dramas, especially in the wuxia and xianxia genres. As @audreydoeskaren touched on in this post, these masks are typically not historically accurate, but are included for aesthetic effect (like many other elements in guzhuang media).

Below - fantasy masks in Chinese film/dramas. Clockwise from top left: women - Painted Skin: The Resurrection, Legend of Nine Tails Fox, The Empress of China, The Blue Whisper; men - Love and Redemption, Xuan-Yuan Sword: Scar of Sky, The Untamed, Battle Through the Heavens:

Deriving inspiration from art and television, fantasy masks have become a popular accessory for hanfu photoshoots.

For more examples of Chinese masks (both historical & fantasy), please see my masks and eyemask tags.

Hope this helps! ^^

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maryangelex · 8 months

Text

Never Let Me Go (Pt.2)

John Price x f!Reader

Part 3

Summary: After meeting John, you couldn’t help but wish and long to see him again.

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, some suggestive/mature language

A/N: did I say I was gonna update in Wednesday?? That’s crazy, I don’t remember that at all!! Anyways…here ya go kids, it’s disgusting and fluffy and short!!! I promise there will be smutty deliciousness soon!!!

This chapter’s song is Little Bit by Lykke Li

The next day you woke up and headed to work, everything was the same as usual. Except now you felt you had something to look forward to. Or more like someone you looked forward to.

If he even showed up, you thought. You didn't fail to remind yourself to not get too excited, to set yourself up for failure, just so that you wouldn't disappoint yourself.

The rest of the day at the cafe you served the same familiar orders, smiled at the regular faces, and that feeling of sameness and dissatisfaction was gnawing at you like it did the night before.

Despite your best efforts at not eagerly hoping to see John again, you couldn’t help but have a little bit of optimism and anticipation that he would walk through the doors again.

But what you worried would happen happened, and you were disappointed. It crushed your spirits to have let yourself get excited just to later on be let down.

You felt like you were stood up. And that night you locked up the cafe after the closing shift, said goodnight to your cousin, and went back to your lonely little flat. To do things all over again the next day.

You were woken up by the rays of light that bled through your curtains. As your eyes slowly peeled open, you realized you had fallen asleep on your couch, wrapped up in the knitted blanket that you kept there. You mumbled something to yourself as you rubbed your eyes, then reached for your phone on the coffee table only to check the time.

When you realized you had overslept, you jumped awake and scrambled to your room. All you could think about was that your cousin was definitely overwhelmed and pulling her hair out having to run the cafe by herself. She had probably opened late, too, and was more than likely cursing your name through clenched teeth. All these thoughts ran through your head as you did your best to get ready in under twenty minutes.

The best you could do was take the briefest ice-cold shower to get your body going and throw on the most cohesive, monochrome outfit your frantic brain could compute. The moment you made it through your front door, you practically ran to the cafe, the heel of your boots clacked over the cobblestone.

You finally arrived at the coffee shop, bursting through the door with a string of apologies to your cousin and a clammy forehead beaded with sweat. You peeled your layers off, one by one, until you were only wearing your long-sleeve shirt and jeans, and tied the apron around. As you circled the counter to get your day started, you rambled on to your cousin, who was barely looking at you as she poured an effortless foam art into a large round mug.

"I'm so sorry, cuz, I have no idea how I managed to sleep in so much—" You were cut off by your cousin placing the cup in your hands. Her hands stilled over yours as you looked down confused, then up at her. Her face was beaming with a cheeky smile.

"He's here," she whispered, wide eyes and smirking face expressing pure joy.

You looked over to the rest of the shop, your eyes scanning the patrons who had their noses buried in books or cups of coffee to their lips. Almost immediately, though, your eyes fell right on a familiar figure.

John sat at an upholstered chair in a far corner of the cafe, right by the large window with the sun’s glare casting over him, warming and softening the angles of his face. He was clad in a dark green sweater today, an arm crossed over his abdomen as he reclined into the chair with the book you gave him in his other hand. He was at its last few pages. His expression was that of concentration, with knitted brows and a light pout.

You marveled at him, your heart stopping in its track when you caught sight of him. But you turned back to your cousin with feigned aloofness.

“Well, he lives nearby apparently so it’s no surprise—“ she cut you off again.

“He asked for you, cuz,” your cousin’s eyes pierced through you, her face turning stern. “He walked in today and immediately asked for you. He’s been sitting there waiting.”

Your lips pressed tightly into a line. He was waiting for you?

Your cousin’s hold over your hands strengthened as she pushed you to move, to go approach him.

“Take this to him, cuz,” her tone was a mix of a plea and a command. “He seems like he really likes you…do this for yourself, you deserve it.”

You gave her a long look, her wide eyes were practically begging you to follow her advice. Maybe she was right. It had been a long time since you liked someone, since you let yourself let someone into your life. Maybe you did deserve to allow yourself to open up and enjoy yourself with someone.

Her hands let go of yours, giving you a smile as if she read your mind.

”Go sit with him, I’ve got it,” were her last softly spoken words before she sent you off.

You let out a deep sigh and gave her a light smile, shaking your head as if thinking ‘I can’t believe I’m listening to your love advice’, and made your way over to John. You picked up a pastry on your way over to him, on the house.

John looked up from the book as soon as he saw your figure approaching him. His face lit up, kindness shining from it. He immediately got up from his seat and reached out to help you.

At that moment you noticed that John had a thing for helping, for being of service; he couldn’t stand and watch someone else do something for him, he was the type of man that preferred to take care of others and do things for others.

“Thank you, love, I’ve got it,” he said softly with a smile as he took the plates for you and set it down on the small table in front of his chair.

You thanked him and stood beside the chair across from his, hesitant to fully sit and commit to chatting with him.

John mirrored you, standing up parallel to you as if waiting for you to sit first. Quite the gentleman. And because of that you couldn’t let the man stand like a guard, so you caved and sat down. Of course, he followed you.

You sat there for a moment and collected your thoughts before asking, “So you’ve finished the book?”

“I did, actually,” he smiled at you, his eyes locked into yours, and they’d stay there from this moment on.

“I quite liked it.” He chuckled a bit, “But it was tough to read at times so I took all of yesterday to get through it.”

So that’s why he didn’t come, you thought, he was too busy actually putting effort into reading the book you gave him.

That thought made a smirk pull at your lips.

“Thought you said you’d come for help reading!” You said slyly, and he let out another chuckle at that. You loved the feeling you got when you amused him.

“ ‘M sorry, love, didn’t want to trouble you much,” he confessed taking a sip from the cup of coffee. His words confirmed your thoughts.

He pressed his lips at the taste of the coffee. Too bitter, you noted he liked things sweet last time. And he reached for the sugar to amend his drink.

The man in front of you was a delight to watch.

“You like sweet things?” You asked, hardly noticing the fact you had spoken up.

“It’s a vice, truly, worse than smokin’ for me.” He said with a nod as he tasted it again. “We don’t get a lot of sweetness at work.”

You chuckled. “Well you should give that a try…” you gestured to the pastry you brought him, “I, erm, make them m’self.”

A light blush scattered over your cheeks as the man smiled cheekily, reaching over to take the pastry.

“I already know it’ll be good if y’made it, doll,” he quipped before taking a bite. John let out a slow hum as he chewed the bite. You’d be lying if you said your mind didn’t wonder to the dirtiest of places when you heard that sound emanate from him—you wouldn’t mind hearing more of that, really.

“Bloody good, love, fuckin’ hell,” the man sounded like it was the best thing he’d tasted, proceeding to devour the treat. You bit your lip to suppress a growing smile.

“Now you have a reason to keep coming, John,” your own words surprised you, not knowing you had the confidence to make such a comment. You practically just confessed to him that you wanted him to continue coming.

“Oh I already had a very good reason to keep comin’, doll,” his tone was flirty, and his eyes burnt through you. Did they somehow get bluer? You felt the sting of your cheeks at his comment.

You stayed there talking with John for about an hour, occasionally glancing back at your cousin to check on her. Each time she’d give you a thumbs up and a shooing motion with her hand. The store was relatively empty, so there wasn’t much need for an extra hand.

Instead, you got to spend time talking to John. You asked him about his work in the military, but he told you there wasn’t much he could say that made for good conversation. You didn’t mind, you simply cared more about getting to know the man in front of you as a person and not as much for what he did.

But he told you about the places he’d been to because of his profession, about his friends in the service and their off-duty escapades, and about his family in Herefordshire. He told you he has a dog back home, and your dog-loving self couldn’t be contained when he showed you the picture of him on his phone screen. It made him laugh how giddy you got and how your voice rose a couple octaves in excitement.

You asked him about his favorite book, he said The Wind Also Rises. And when you asked what music he listens to, he gave you a whole Spotify playlist which required him exchanging numbers with you.

By now the coffee in his cup was long gone, and a second hour had passed. Your cheeks were sore from smiling and laughing the whole time. He wouldn’t let the smile drop from your face by hitting you continuously with a mix of the cheesiest pick-up lines and the worst dad-jokes you’ve had the misfortune of hearing.

And the fact that you made him smile and laugh too made a fire kindle in your chest. It surged a warm sensation and made you feel a sense of home that you didn’t know could be brought up in you by a person.

John’s deep blue eyes were glued to you, taking you in like you were the only person in the world. And you couldn’t look away either, as if memorizing every line of his face and every pore, wrinkle, or blemish on his skin.

He leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees to actively listen to you as you told him where you were originally from, how you got to co-own this place with your cousin, and how the two of you had made a business you were properly proud of. He listened with wholeheartedness and admiration, as if taking mental notes of everything you said to him, storing the information as gold coins in a treasure chest.

A third hour passed. Your mad ran dry with how much you had been talking to John. The two of you were now in a brief but pleasant silence as you took each other in.

“I really enjoy your company, love,” he broke the silence, his voice soft and earnest.

“I do too, John.”

“I’ve got to go but erm..” he inhaled, “I’d like to maybe take you out sometime.” He let out the breath he was holding, a grin on his face and a gentleness in his eyes.

“I’d like that a lot, actually,” you responded, making his face brighten even more and he gave you a pleased hum.

“ ‘M glad t’hear that,” his eyes raked over you then found their way back to yours. He looked at you for a moment before standing up to leave.

You stood with him, telling him you’d accompany him to the outside as you exchanged a few last comments.

You stood outside the shop with him on the street as he fixed his jacket back on as well as his beanie.

“So tomorrow at 8?” He asked.

“Mhm, I’ll be there,” you stood in front of him, craning your neck slightly to make eye contact with him.

He moved closer to you, standing just inches from you. You were reminded of his large stature compared to yours. His presence felt protective and warm in front of you, the cold weather felt like nothing thanks to the heat his body radiated to you.

John’s hand reached up to you, his index finger tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, with his gaze not daring to break away from yours. “I’ll see you then, love.”

The gesture made your whole body melt. You could hardly find any words to say in response. The most you could muster was a gulp and a shaky nod of your beer red head.

“See you, John,” you said, almost a whisper. And with that, he turned on his heels and went on his way. You watched him disappear down the street before heading back in.

You felt like you were in shock. Like you needed someone to pinch you awake or pull you back down to earth from heaven. Your heart couldn’t beat any faster.

It felt like every goodbye between the two of you was a door opening into another hello.

Like the void of loneliness that was opened in you that day was slowly getting filled by the warmth and comfort of John’s presence every time you got to see him.

And you couldn’t be happier about there being a third hello just a day away.

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isa-beenme · 10 months

Note

Solo Dad Rhys!!!! Fluff piece!!!

AHAHAJAJAJSKSKAKAIAIA I LOVE RHYSAND SO MUCH

I'm sorry for giving a villain arc to Feyre but HEY history needs to happen okay?

Nyxie baby cutie boo making his first appearance in my blog, welcome babyyyy

My mind just went FUOOOOOON once I imagined the story, I SWEAR I was riding my bike when I thought of this and had to stop middle way to my house just to think it better

Yes I changed the lyrics of Wait For It to fit the history, and yes I invented a whole bunch of shit about velaris WHO CARES

KEEP SENDING REQUESTS I LOVE DOING THIS

Wait For It

In the breathtaking realm of the Night Court, the stars gleamed like diamonds in the obsidian sky, casting their ethereal glow upon the majestic city of Velaris below. Amidst the grandeur of the court, Nyx, a cherubic young boy of ten, with unruly dark curls and captivating violet eyes, eagerly awaited his Wednesday night escapade.

Nyx's parents were once deeply in love, but Feyre, burdened by a restless heart, had returned to her once fiancee, Tamlin, High Lord of the Spring Court, after giving birth. In the aftermath of her choices, she had bitterly slandered Rhysand and his family, a web of lies that entangled them in trouble. Despite the turmoil, Rhysand only devoted himself to raising Nyx, juggling the responsibilities of both a powerful High Lord and a dedicated father.

But Nyx had a little secret, a sanctuary that filled his heart with joy amidst the chaos. Every Wednesday night, he would give his father an innocent lie, claiming to attend "extra classes" while secretly venturing to the grand theater of Velaris in the bursting heart of music and arts of the Rainbow.

The first time it happened was pure coincidence. The grand theater of Velaris hummed with the anticipation of the evening's performance. Nyx had just learned how to winnow and having his father's mischievous spirit, he went after the wave of emotion that spread everywhere he went, sneaking into an empty booth Nyx sat in awe, waiting to witness the lady everyone affectionately called "Starlight" take the stage once more. He wore a dashing little suit, feeling every inch a proper gentleman as he eagerly anticipated the show.

As the curtains rose, Nyx's eyes widened in wonderment as "Miss Starlight" appeared, bathed in the spotlight's embrace. Her voice, like a thousand twinkling stars, filled the theater, capturing hearts with its enchanting melody. She actually portrayed a character named Starlight, who reunited the story of Velaris and told it in a song, bringing the city to life and giving it a soul she shared with on stage.

When the final notes of the performance echoed through the theater, the audience erupted in thunderous applause. Nyx, who had been clapping with glee, could hardly contain his excitement as he jumped up from his seat. He knew that he had to speak to her, to let her know how much he adored her singing. With determination in his heart, Nyx slipped away from the public side, weaving through the crowd until he reached the backstage area. His little heart pounded with nervous excitement, but he couldn't let fear hold him back, he knew this was his chance to talk to the performer.

Peeking around the corner, he spotted her, still dressed in her celestial attire, chatting with some of the crew. Nyx took a deep breath, mustering all the bravery a seven-year-old could have, and stepped forward, clutching a small bouquet of flowers he had summoned from his auntie Elain's garden.

- Um, excuse me, miss Starlight? - He called out softly, a touch of shyness evident in his voice. The lady turned, and a radiant smile graced her features as she noticed the adorable little boy approaching her.

- Why, hello there - She said warmly, going down on her knees to meet his eyes. Her sparkling dress made a pool of diamonds shine around her, making her look even more like an angel - And who are you, young man?

- I'm a big fan - He whispered in shyness, hands sweating as he offered her the bouquet and she took it.

- Is my big fan's name Nyx, I suppose? - She asked as if it was a secret, Nyx's eyes widened in surprise.

- You know my name? - She chuckled gently and offered him a hand, one he gladly took in.

- Of course, I remember you. You've been coming here with your father to see the renewal, haven't you? - Nyx's cheeks flushed with delight, feeling like he was known and seen by someone special.

- Yes! I love music, and I loved, even more, your singing, Miss Starlight. It's like true magic! - She laughed, even then she sounded like she was made of music.

- Well, thank you, Nyx. That's such a lovely compliment - She replied, touched by his sincerity. Nyx pointed to her bouquet, a bit shy when she held it close to her heart.

- These are for you. They're from the Night Court's garden - He proudly said and she smiled even more.

- Thank you, sweetheart - She said, looking at the flowers with gratitude - They're beautiful, just like you - His heart swelled with joy at the praise, and a wide grin spread across his face.

- Can I, um, watch all your performances, Miss Starlight? - Her eyes sparkled with warmth and affection.

- Oh, absolutely! I would be delighted to have my biggest fan in the audience at every show - Nyx beamed, feeling like the luckiest boy in all of Prythian.

- Yay! Thank you! - He ran to hug her, taking care to not step in her dress or ruin her hair which had sparkles that shined like the stars he loved to see. As their conversation continued, Nyx's initial shyness faded away, replaced by a blossoming friendship. The lady shared stories of her love for music and the theater, and Nyx listened with rapt attention, hanging on to her every word.

From that day forward, Nyx became a regular presence at her performances. He would sit in the front row or in the same booth when he didn't feel like gaining attention from the citizens, his eyes alight with wonder, as "Miss Starlight" sang and danced with grace and passion. And each time the curtains fell, she would come to greet him, and they would share heartwarming conversations that left Nyx feeling like he had found a kindred spirit.

Their bond grew stronger with each passing performance, and Nyx's admiration for "Miss Starlight" only deepened as the years passed. Their friendship was a radiant star in the young boy's life, casting a luminous glow on his days in the Night Court. And every time he watched her on that mesmerizing stage, he couldn't help but feel that he was in the presence of true magic. There, he would be enchanted over and over again by a sweet and lovely lady, her voice as mellifluous as the Night Court's nocturnal symphony.

It took years for Nyx to finally come up with a good and durable excuse for his lack of presence every Wednesday night, sometimes even missing dinner with his family when his favorite singer invited him to dine with the rest of the cast that presented the show. Unknown to Nyx, in one of his hidden escapes, his father was making his way across the city. Under the veil of night, the streets of Velaris were bathed in a silvery glow. High Lord Rhysand, cloaked in shadows, followed the path toward one of his favorite restaurants.

While he passed through some of the streets he met Nyx's teacher walking next to the River. Curious as to why she was there he trailed her discreetly, observing her every move with a mixture of concern and curiosity. As the lady entered a quaint restaurant, Rhysand waited a moment before stepping inside. He chose a discreet corner, keeping his features hidden from curious gazes. The restaurant hummed with soft conversation and the clinking of glasses, creating a cozy ambiance.

After what felt like an eternity, the lady emerged from the restroom, looking elegant and serene. Rhysand steadied himself, deciding it was time to confront her.

- Excuse me, miss - As she walked past his table, he spoke in a low, steady voice. She turned, her eyes meeting Rhysand's, and for a moment, he saw a glimmer of recognition. However, she quickly masked it with a polite smile.

- Yes, can I help you, my Lord? - Her face was calm, too calm for someone that was supposed to be with somebody else's son and not at a restaurant having a date.

- I believe you've been teaching my son, Nyx, for the past few years - Rhysand began, maintaining an air of formality.

- Oh, Nyx - She replied, her eyes brightening with fondness - Such a charming and talented young boy. He's been attending my classes for a while now, yes.

- I must apologize for any misunderstanding, but I can't seem to understand why you are here if he was supposed to be in class right now - The lady's expression faltered, and she seemed to grasp the seriousness of the situation.

- I... I don't have formal classes with him on Wednesdays, per se. Nyx has been coming every Saturday afternoon for his lessons - Rhysand became desperate for a second, and his heart clenched with worry for his son's safety.

- So he's been lying to me - He said, his voice tinged with disappointment. The lady's eyes softened with understanding.

- I'm sorry if I inadvertently became part of his secret. I never knew he was hiding the truth from you - His ears pricked at her words, curious as to why she didn't seem any sort of nervous

- What do you mean by "hiding the truth from me"? Do you know where he is? - She seemed confused for a second, before a smile plastered on her face.

- Everyone in the streets of the Rainbow knows where the little prince goes on Wednesdays, we all assumed you and your family knew too. It's not uncommon to find him walking down the city with the actors that play in the theater - His eyes softened at hearing his son was safe and his citizens were somehow taking care of him - I'm sorry for not noticing your lack of knowledge on his where being.

- You have nothing to apologize for - Rhysand replied, his tone gentler now - I appreciate your honesty. I was just worried for his safety once I saw you here.

- He's safe with the crew, they are lovely people to be around, I actually befriended some of them, there's nothing to fear - the lady assured him, her sincerity evident - He's such a joy around them, and he's genuinely passionate about music and theater. You need to listen to him talk about his "Miss Starlight" and detail every new performance of hers - Rhysand couldn't help but feel a hint of gratitude toward the lady for cherishing his son's company. A smile graced the lady's lips, and a sparkle danced in her eyes - He's a remarkable young boy, and it's been so sweet to hear him talk about this lady, you should probably meet her and thank this female for making him so happy. He's always so enthusiastic.

- I'm planning to talk to him about this - Rhysand said, his voice tinged with gratitude, though - But I would like to be informed of any action by him, apparently there are a lot of things I don't know about. Thank you once again - As she nodded with a small smile Rhysand quickly winnowed to the Town House, calling an urgent meeting with his family.

The Night Court's Inner Circle gathered in a quiet corner of the luxurious house, their faces reflecting concern and curiosity. Rhysand sat at the head of the table, his heart heavy with worry for his young son, Nyx. He had discovered Nyx's secret escapades to watch "Miss Starlight," the lady whose performances had captured his son's heart, and now he needed advice on how to handle the situation. Mor leaned forward, her brows furrowed with worry.

- So, he's been going to watch performances instead of attending classes, is that what you just said? - She asked, concern lacing her voice.

- Yes, and he's been lying about it for a while now, years probably. I didn't find out until this night when I found his teacher in a restaurant, and I'm not sure how to address it without making him feel ashamed - Rhysand nodded, his voice tinged with regret.

- He's a curious child, Rhysand. He probably felt the need to hide it because he thought you'd disapprove - Amren, always the pragmatic one, spoke up.

- I can understand why he'd be drawn to her performances. She's a true star on that stage - Cassian chimed in, his face thoughtful.

- And she's been wonderful with Nyx - Azriel added quietly - I've seen her interact with him after her shows, and the way he lights up in her presence is undeniable.

- Wait, wait, wait, both knew he was going to her performances and none of you thought about telling me? - His brother's expression fell at their mistake, slowly looking at each other before looking at their High Lord again.

- Maybe? I mean, we saw him on the front row once and when we made sure he was safe we left him there - Cassian explained first, exchanging looks with the shadowsinger.

- We were waiting for him to tell you - Azriel closed the conversation, looking at the ground in shame.

- Hold on, the actress we are talking about is the one who played Edwina in "Whimsical Serenade"? - As Cassian and Azriel eagerly agreed, their faces lighting up, Morrigan laughs hard, finally understanding the whole situation - Of course! It all makes sense now! Even I lied to you once to go watch her performance with Elain. I didn't notice Nyx there, though.

- Isn't she the one who plays Rhysand in "A High Lord's Duel"? - Amren jumps in the conversation, and Nestha's eyes widened at the mention - Holy shit, she is amazing. It actually scared me how well she incorporates Rhysand in the scenes with Tamlin.

- If so she is the one who plays Eliza in "A Heartfelt Symphony" - All of them agreed to her statement, starting a discussion about her talent and performances.

- Let me get this straight, all of you watched her at least once? - As the Inner Circle discussed Nyx's infatuation with "Miss Starlight", as well as their experiences with her, unbeknownst to them, the young boy himself stood at the doorway, eavesdropping on the conversation with a mix of fear and guilt. He knew he had let his father down, and he dreaded facing the consequences of his actions.

Before Nyx could retreat, Mor's keen senses detected his presence. She glanced towards the door and smiled warmly at him.

- Nyx, come on in. We were just discussing your little adventures - His little heart pounded in his chest, but he knew he couldn't hide anymore. Nyx took a deep breath and stepped into the room, his violet eyes meeting his father's concerned gaze.

- Nyx - Rhysand began gently - We know about your visits to watch the shows at the theater. Why didn't you tell me the truth?

- I didn't want you to be angry with me, Papa. I love her singing, and I didn't think you'd let me go if you knew - Nyx's shoulders slumped, his voice small.

- Nyx, I'm not angry with you. I just want to know the truth. You don't have to hide anything from me - Rhysand softened, understanding his son's fear.

- Plus, we all know about her. You're not the only one who's watched her perform, little one - Mor grinned, her eyes twinkling mischievously. Nyx's eyes widened in surprise, and he looked around at the Inner Circle, finding nods of agreement from each of them. The knowledge that everyone knew and still supported him brought a smile to his face.

- You guys have seen her too? - Nyx asked in awe.

- Of course! We had to make sure you weren't getting into any trouble, boo - Cassian chuckled.

- Papa, please come with me to the next show. She's amazing, and I think you'll like her too - Nyx turned back to his father, his eyes earnest.

- Yes, Daddy, Miss Starlight is the best in the whole wide world - Nestha chuckled before earning a warning glare from the High Lord.

- All right, Nyx. I'll go with you, and we can enjoy her performance together - Rhysand's heart swelled with love for his son and his genuine enthusiasm.

Nyx beamed, feeling a sense of relief wash over him. He knew he could trust his father, and having him there by his side meant the world to him. And so, with the support of the Inner Circle and his loving father, Nyx felt a newfound sense of confidence. He had learned that honesty and trust were the building blocks of their family, and he was eager to share the magic of "Miss Starlight" with the one person he loved most in the world – his Papa, the High Lord of the Night Court.

As fate would have it, one week later they arrived at the theater, Rhysand's heart pounding in his chest with a nervousness he hadn't felt for years. He let Nyx guide them to one of the booths that held an upper vision of the scenario, his son kept gazing at the stage with an enchantment that seemed to hold a spell over him. The performance began, and a whole bunch of songs were being presented that night. The musical was called "The Whole World of the Night Court", each actor portraying a different city of his territory, telling its story in the form of a song.

The lights turned off again, and Nyx started to shake completely in his chair with excitement. As the grand theater's velvet curtains parted, a hushed anticipation swept through the audience. A spotlight illuminated the stage, and there she stood, "Miss Starlight," bathed in a celestial aura, ready to weave her magic once more. Rhysand sat straighter in his seat, his heart fluttering with both curiosity and the enchantment that surrounded the mysterious lady, a sudden uneasiness taking his body.

As for Nyx, his wide violet eyes were shimmering with excitement, his small hands gripping the edge of the plush seat. He was eager to share this moment with his Papa, to introduce him to the magic that had captured his young heart. Her, interpreting once again her character Starlight, began to tell Velaris stories to the public as if it was her own, eyes shimmering at each word. Suddenly the orchestra began to play a mesmerizing melody, and the lady took a deep breath, her voice tinged with emotion as she began to sing. The soulful notes of the piano accompanied her melodic voice, setting the stage for the tale she was about to tell.

- Theodosia writes me a letter every day; I'm keeping the bed warm while her father is away, He's on the human side in Prythian; He's trying to keep the colonies in line; But he can keep all of Prythian; Theodosia, she's mine - She sang, making a clear reference to the firstly High Lord that idealized Velaris as a gift to his wife, Theodosia. This fact made Rhysand even more aware of the spectacle.

- Love doesn't discriminate; Between the sinners and the saints; It takes, and it takes, and it takes; And we keep loving anyway; We laugh, and we cry, and we break, and we make our mistakes; And if there's a reason I'm by her side; When so many have tried; Then I'm willing to wait for it; I'm willing to wait for it.

With a glance at Nyx, who was completely enthralled by the performance, Rhysand knew that this lady had the power to touch hearts and ignite imaginations.

- My grandfather was a fire and brimstone preacher; But there are things that the homilies and hymns won't teach ya; My mother was a genius; My father commanded respect; When they died, they left no instructions; Just a legacy to protect - At that she clearly meant the legacy every High Lord had to carry to protect the city, himself being one of the many that had to sacrifice a lot to keep the secret - Death doesn't discriminate; Between the sinners and the saints; It takes, and it takes, and it takes; And we keep living anyway; We rise, and we fall, and we break, and we make our mistakes; And if there's a reason I'm still alive; When everyone who loves me has died; I'm willing to wait for it; I'm willing to wait for it.

As the chorus echoed through the theater, Rhysand felt a connection to the song's message. He understood the yearning for something that might be just out of reach, and it resonated deep within his soul.

- Wait for it, wait for it, wait for it, wait - The quiet intensity in her expression held the audience captive while the back vocals reached their peak, and Rhysand found himself captivated as well, unable to look away.

Her voice rose, reaching heights that seemed to touch the very stars, and as the orchestra swelled around her, Rhysand could feel the passion in every word she sang.

- I am the one thing in life I can control; I am inimitable, I am an original; I'm not falling behind or running late; I'm not standing still, I am lying in wait - He understood it as a way of saying how every city thrived and Velaris kept being a hidden city towards the other courts - Nightmare's face is an endless uphill climb; He has something to prove; He has nothing to lose; Nightmare's pace is relentless, he wastes no time; What is it like in his shoes?

Nightmare was one of the characters previously introduced in the show, representing the Hewn City and their politics of participating in every decision, especially by being the formal representation and the known image of the Night Court.

- Nightmare doesn't hesitate; He exhibits no restraint; He takes, and he takes, and he takes; And he keeps winning anyway; He changes the game; He plays and he raises the stakes; And if there's a reason he seems to thrive when so few survive; Then, goddammit, I'm willing to wait for it; I'm willing to wait for it - Her voice went to a soft breeze, tickling Rhysand's soul as she rose her voice again for the final chorus - Life doesn't discriminate; Between the sinners and the saints; It takes, and it takes, and it takes; We rise, and we fall; And if there's a reason I'm still alive; When so many have died; Then I'm willing to - Her eyes met his in the middle of the public, a sense of understanding passing through them, an unspoken love for their court and the child both of them unknowingly raised together. She was still looking him deep in his eyes as she smiled and repeated the final phrase - Wait for it.

The final verse carried an air of determination, of embracing the journey and whatever it may bring. As the last notes reverberated through the theater, the audience erupted in applause, their hearts touched by the lady's stirring performance. Rhysand glanced at Nyx, whose eyes shone with a mixture of awe and admiration.

- That was amazing, Papa! Did you like it? - Nyx asked, his voice brimming with excitement.

- Yes, my star, I loved it. And I'm glad you brought me here to experience it with you - Rhysand smiled, his heart full of love for his young son and the lady who had brought so much joy into their lives.

Amid the ending performance with a song that reunited all of the cast together, the lady glanced up and met Rhysand's intense stare once again, singing some of the parts to him, in that fleeting moment the music seemed to draw them closer, and when she smiled bright and big and bowed to him in the end, his heart skipped a beat.

The final notes of the fun goodbye to the cast proportionate filled the air as the audience erupted into thunderous applause again. Nyx's heart swelled with pride, knowing that his Papa, the High Lord of the Night Court, had enjoyed the mesmerizing magic of "Miss Starlight's" song, just as he had. He couldn't wait to introduce them properly. As the crew took their final bow and the curtain fell, Nyx tugged on his father's hand, his excitement evident in his wide, sparkling eyes.

- Papa, come on! Let's go meet her! - He exclaimed, practically bouncing with enthusiasm. Rhysand chuckled at his son's exuberance, happy to see him so thrilled.

- All right, lead the way, little star - He said, following Nyx as they made their way backstage.

Behind the curtain, the atmosphere buzzed with excitement as the crew congratulated the lady on her outstanding performance. Nyx's eyes searched for her, and when he finally spotted her amidst the commotion, he pulled his father towards her.

- Miss Starlight! - Nyx called out, his voice filled with adoration. The lady turned, her eyes lighting up when she saw Nyx approaching with Rhysand in tow. She smiled warmly, her gaze moving from Nyx to Rhysand.

- Hello there, both of you - She greeted them, her voice as sweet as a lullaby. Nyx beamed, proud to have his father by his side.

- This is my Papa, the High Lord Rhysand. Papa, this is Lady Starlight, High Lady of the musical theater - he said, introducing them with a touch of pride.

- It's a pleasure to meet you, My Lord - The lady said, offering a graceful curtsy - Nyx has spoken very highly of you. I couldn't wait to finally meet the father of my biggest fan - Rhysand couldn't help but feel a hint of curiosity as he looked at the lady before him.

- Likewise - He replied with a genuine smile - Your performance was extraordinary. I've never heard such a captivating voice. And please, call me Rhysand, or Rhys - Her cheeks flushed with a blush of delight, and she bowed her head slightly

- Thank you, Rhysand. I'm honored that you enjoyed it - Before Nyx could contain his excitement, he interjected.

- Papa, you should ask her out on a date! - He shouted to his father, jumping up and down in place as he looked at both of the people he loved the most in the world (not that he would ever admit it next to the rest of his family). Rhysand blinked, surprised by Nyx's candid suggestion. He exchanged a glance with the lady, and a soft smile played on her lips.

- Is that so? - He asked, humor dancing in his eyes. Nyx nodded enthusiastically.

- Yes! She's really nice, and I know you'll like her. And I really want to call her mommy. And I'll change my name to Nyxie Starlight, and we'll be a family - Rhysand couldn't help but chuckle at his son's matchmaking efforts. Nyx, in his characteristic innocence, suggested they should marry soon so that Rhysand could be Mister Starlight, Nyx's mind forever intertwining her character's name with her true identity.

- Well, if it's alright with you, Miss Starlight, I'd love to take you out for a date - The lady's smile grew, her eyes shining with amusement.

- I'd be delighted, Rhys - The blush that covered her cheeks made Rhysand's heart flutter in a way he hadn't felt, even when he was with Feyre.

Nyx reveled in having both his beloved daddy and his adored Starlight in his life, and Rhysand found solace and bliss in a love he thought he would never experience again.

As they exchanged information and chose a day and place, Nyx couldn't contain his excitement, thrilled that his plan had worked. He knew that this lady had brought so much joy into his life, and he wanted nothing more than to see his Papa happy as well.

As they bid their farewells and left the theater, Rhysand felt a sense of warmth in his heart, grateful for the magical night he had shared with his son and the enchanting lady they now knew as "Miss Mommy Starlight." And as they looked up at the starlit sky above the Night Court, Rhysand knew that the adventure they had embarked upon was just beginning, an adventure filled with love, music, and the serendipitous magic of young hearts.

They embraced the magic of their fate, as their lives intertwined like a dance, creating a tale of love that would be whispered through the ages in the immortal lands of Prythian as the most magically musical love story that ever ran through history. Or the most disgustingly cute, as Nyx would proclaim, and they wouldn't have it any other way.

#rhysand x reader #spotify #acotar #rhys x reader #rhys acotar #rhysand #nyx archeron #nyx acotar

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sgiandubh · 9 months

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Dear 'Hi, darling' Anon

You are so polite and I am so sorry. But I am not going to publish your ask here. The question has been asked before, in many different ways, which tells me a lot about this fandom's - maybe understandable - impatience. The reason I will not answer it in here is simple: as tempted as I might be, I will not write the damn script.

I am an optimist and I believe these two are good people. It is as simple as that.

However, what I can and will do for you, is to tell you a real French story I will try to sum up as best as possible. You take out of it whatever you want. I am just the narrator, here.

I suppose you are not very familiar with this guy, are you?

His name was François Mitterrand, and from 1981 to 1995 he was the President of the French Republic. A cunning, even ruthless politician, he managed the feat of uniting a French Left in shambles and leading it back to power after more than twenty years on the opposition benches. He truly was the master of all combinations, with an almost diabolic sense of human nature and a cult for secrecy and privacy. So much so, that even in a country like France (where people are rather fond of gossip and backstage gaming, provided all of this is masterfully executed) he was nicknamed both 'The Florentine', in an expected parallel to Machiavelli, by politicos & pundits, and 'Tonton' (Uncle), by all the rest of the nation.

His only weakness was to have led a double life for 30 years.

A scion of a deeply Catholic bourgeois family of vinegar distillers from Jarnac, Mitterrand married the atheist and radical Danielle Gouze in 1944. They met in harsh times, while he was one of the chiefs of the French Résistance, after being an underling of Marshal Pétain's Nazi collaborating puppet regime, based in Vichy. They never divorced, even if the couple became increasingly estranged after the birth of three sons, in rapid succession. She found solace in the arms of a Corsican sports instructor and he, by now a rising star of French politics, went his merry way with probably hundreds of affairs. I bet you couldn't tell, by simply looking at his official portrait, but hey - never judge a book by its cover.

By the autumn of 1965, Mitterrand started his lifelong affair with Anne Pingeot, an Art History student at the fabulous Ecole du Louvre, hailing from a well-heeled family in Clermont-Ferrand. She met him in 1957, while vacationing with her parents in Hossegor, a posh summer resort on the Atlantic coast. Both families stroke up a polite holiday friendship, so when Anne went to study in Paris, Madame Pingeot naturally asked 'François' to keep an eye on her daughter. It took him two years to seduce her, with flowers, daily letters, books, midnight walks, art exhibitions, concerts, lies, stories, restaurants and drama - Frenchmen really, really are unparalleled at this cat and mouse game. They never broke up and if Mitterrand never was exclusively attached to her, she remained the love of his life until his very last day on Earth.

The only real crisis moment in this stars aligned story came in 1973, when Anne really wanted out of the whole charade. She wanted a younger partner, an easier plot and (of course) a child. He relented. Mazarine was born in December 1974, in the deepest possible secrecy, somewhere in Southern France (this is a well-known plot device in any good French Nineteenth century novel, by the way). Her father legally recognized her only in 1984, via a simple notary statement. From 1981 to 1995, the second family shared an apartment in a building reserved for the Elysée Palace top level public servants, on Quai Branly, in Paris. At the same time, Mitterrand kept his usual home on rue de Bièvre, steps away from Notre Dame cathedral, on the Left Bank and made sure he was regularly seen there by the press, the paparazzi and the odd passerby. Anne and Mazarine were always monitored by the President's security detail, of course.

Did people know? Many did and at least as many didn't have a clue. Mitterrand was a master at separating his social life into concentric zones, but even as such, lots of people in his intimate circle had no idea he was a new father to that little girl whose toys they sometimes saw in the trunk of his official car, or who happened to be around at political gatherings. They simply assumed the toys belonged to his grand-daughters, the fugitive appearance was a relative and in general, they knew better than asking questions. Sometimes, he joked in interviews, as in 1986, when he told, on a very relaxed tone, to French TV star journalist Yves Mourousi "a certain little miss of my acquaintance told me I have to be more chébran (slang for also slang branché - trendy) and as you see, I am doing my best". Nobody batted an eyelid. When Mazarine dutifully wrote on her first day at school, sometime around 1983, "President of the French Republic" under the Father's job entry on the yearly data sheet every pupil must fill in, the headmistress thought she was joking and never brought it up again. Some of her school friends were even invited for pajama parties at Souzy-la-Briche, at the time the week-end residence of the French President, and even met Mitterrand. Nobody ever spoke.

But some people did know and could not exactly remain silent. When Françoise Giroud, a legend of French journalism, published, in 1983, at the Mazarine publishing house (!), her roman à clef (novel with a key), Le bon plaisir (As He Saw Fit), heavily alluding to the Mitterrand situation, she was forced by her editor to write a very clear frontpage disclaimer. She also had to tinker a bit with details: it was a boy, not a girl, etc. But when venomous polemist Jean-Edern Hallier, disgruntled that his support efforts were left unrewarded, wrote a tell-all pamphlet L'Honneur perdu de François Mitterrand (François Mitterrand's Lost Honor), in 1984, the manuscript mysteriously vanished without a trace (the book appeared, however, after Mitterand's death, in 1996).

All was revealed in 1995, by a paparazzi photograph being published by the reliable people's magazine Paris Match, with no intervention of the French Presidency administration to stop it. On its cover, a by now terminally ill with cancer Mitterrand was seen standing with Mazarine in front of the (wonderful) fish restaurant Le Divellec, in Paris, under the caption (I will never forget it): La fille cachée du Président (The President's Hidden Daughter). Body language was very clear (another caption: The tender gesture of a father):

And the good people of France could finally see Anne and Mazarine mourning him, on January 11, 1996, after he let himself die upon finding out that the disease attacked his brain:

First row, near the official family.

As I said, draw your own conclusions, Anon. I am not implying anything and I do not think, by any means, this is a copycat scenario. Two fifi la plume (= scoundrel, but also naïve) B-listers are not a powerful French politician, with a decisive influence on the country's society, media and secret services. The UK or the US are not France, never will be. The Eighties had no Facebook, no Twitter, no Internet and no cell phones, able and willing to turn just about anybody into a paparazzo. Mitterrand's fandom, if you want, was the Socialist Party and its army of ambitious technocrats, not the considerable mess that is the OL circus.

What I am implying, is that no secret, no matter how deeply buried, stays forever in the shadows. Have a little more patience and, damn it, faith.

I rest my case.

PS: Anne Pingeot is a Taurus. Don't mind me. I am just babbling, as usually. ;)

#Anon

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wysteriaisapenguin · 2 months

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The Heart of it All

Wrote a oneshot fic based on this art piece I did with the Voice of the Hero. There will be spoilers ahead so read at your own risk!

She finds herself in the Long Quiet once again. And this time, she is now aware of who she really is. She is the Shifting Mound, the very embodiment of Transformation. But before she can awaken to her true self, she must wait for Them to come back. While she waits, she finds something unfamiliar. Beneath her is a broken shard of glass.

For the longest time, she had seen nothing else but herself and Them in the Long Quiet. No one else had ever been here but them. So she is not sure how this little shard found its way to her. Where did it come from? Why is it here? Why has she never seen it until now? It may not be a new vessel but was this another gift from Them? There were many questions swarming in her mind but it would be fruitless to answer them all.

She reaches to the ground to pick up the little shard. In her hand is the shard and a bright light shines inside of it. It is the only form of light she has ever seen in a place filled with nothing but darkness. A warm flame burning in the bitter cold. A spark of joy floating in a sea of sorrow. A speckle of kindness and compassion glimmering in a cruel and unforgiving world. For something so small, it was so beautiful.

What role did this little shard have to play? It must have been there through all the perspectives she was given. Now that she has found herself, she can easily answer this question.

“Little one, let me see who you really are.”

Her multitude of hands reach out to the little shard, palms gently grasping it and overlapping each other so that they would not break the small fragile being. Even if it wasn’t a part of her, she is just as gentle as she had been with her vessels. Her curiosity was begging her to know what it is. The hands, itching with anticipation, continue to cover each other until they stop with a pause. Then they slowly remove themselves one by one to reveal the little shard’s true form.

In her hand is a little bird, unconscious and curled up into a ball. He bears a resemblance to Them but with the appearance of a knight. His helmet is adorned with a bright red feather on top. His silver armor appears to be well-built but stiff, as if it was a heavy weight he had to bear. His red cape flows elegantly as he floats above her palm. He is just as small and fragile as he was when he was a glass shard. But she can still sense that bright light shining within him.

“Now I see. In a world trying to silence us with lies and confusion, a little voice wanted to be heard. A voice with a desire to help others in need. That must have been you. You were the one who guided Them to me.”

She didn’t expect a reply for the little bird was still asleep. She remembers the time when They told her about several voices speaking to Them. She figured this must be one of them. But there was something about him that made the swarm of questions return to her mind. Why is this the only one she could find? Just how long was he a part of Them? She is still uncertain how this little bird was able to find her in the first place.

“Little one, you have done so well to make it this far. Your resolve is a bright light that wanders in the darkness and it is a wonder to behold. I am sorry that you had to witness so many horrible things, but the pain you’ve endured was not in vain.”

She brings the little bird closer to her until he is within her view. Then she gives him a gentle smile as she whispers.

“I will let you return to my other half. Soon it will be time for Them to come back to me. And that means you will come back to Them as well. But for now, please rest easy.”

And with that, she kisses the little bird. As if he had been broken by a spell, the little bird whimpers and slowly opens his eyes. But before he can do anything else, she clasps her hands and places him into her heart. It is finally time for her and Them to reunite once again and this little bird will be there to witness it all.

#wysty writes #slay the princess #stp spoilers #maybe? just in case #voice of the hero #the shifting mound #just a oneshot I wrote based on that one art piece I've done recently #this takes place after the final vessel is collected #it seems that even shifty's fond of our dear hero <3

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catholic-character-tournament · 1 year

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Round 1 - Side A

Galahad art credit @spiralstain

Propaganda below ⬇️

Junk Rat

I wish his Catholicism meant if he got killed in game it would take him 3 days to respawn

Galahad

OKAY SO . "Galahad (played by Jonny d'Ville): a travelling preacher/religious zealot who is told to sit in the Siege Seat by Merlin, and discovers the fact that Fort Galfridian is falling into the star Avalon. He sparks the quest for the GRAIL, and willingly goes to his death to overcome its final defences." DUDE SAT IN THE CHAIR THAT IS KNOWN FOR KILLING PEOPLE BECAUSE HIS CRUSH [MERLIN] [AKA HANGED MAN] [AKA DRUMBOT BRIAN] TOLD HIM TO . SORRY I THINK THATS REALLY FUNNY. he found out the whole shitshow of a spacestation he lived on was gonna fall into the sun and he went around yelling about it incomprehensibly and got fucking gunned down trying to get the GRAIL and just kept going through the gunfire because of how Religious [tm] he was . he died . in once and future king it just "galahad's blind faith" . also hellfire goes really hard . he is the definition of going insane with the knowledge of the universe . also jonny dville played him thats bonus points

There was a prophet. The prophet gave three separate people three separate instructions. 1. Stop being racist 2. Love your son 3. Sit in the Chair That Makes People Insane Galahad received number three. He was the only one who followed the instructions. He sat in the Chair That Makes People Insane, saw the sun for the first time, and immediately starts preaching about how everyone will burn in hellfire

i dont know anything about this guy i just wanna help make Kai happy please dont like not count my submission just because i dont know anythinf except for the Kills You Chair im trying my best im sorry 😭

his themesong is called hellfire and it slaps btw go listen to it. anyways he is my blorbo blingus he is Deeply unwell i could fix him but also whatever is wrong with him is incredibly fascinating to watch. a robot dude who's been hanging from the gallows since forever told him 'hey go sit in the Chair That Kills People Who Sit In It' and he was like 'I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT MY ENTIRE LIFE'. the getting-his-brain-fried thing definitely made him worse but he was also clearly kind of fucked up before that. his death is probably one of my favorite scenes in any mechs album. maybe just straight up my favorite. ahem. SAY WHAT YOU WILL ABOUT FAITH, BUT IT CAN HAVE POWERFUL EFFECTS ON THOSE THAT HAVE IT. IT CAN KEEP YOU FROM FALTERING AS THE BULLETS START TO SLAM INTO YOU. IT CAN KEEP YOU WALKING AS YOU LEGS ARE SHOT TO BLOODY STUMPS. IT CAN KEEP YOU LAUGHING AS YOUR LUNGS ARE FILLED WITH SHRAPNEL AND LEAD. IT CAN KEEP YOU SMILING AS HALF YOUR FACE IS BLOWN AWAY. IT CAN KEEP A MAN LIKE GALAHAD STANDING TALL UNTIL THE GUNS. CLICKED. DRY. anyways go listen to high noon over camelot <3

my friends my people my... flock I HAVE HAD A VISION!! A VAST FIERY ORB FLOATIN IN AN ENDLESS VOID!! and there so small so feagile US!!! BUT FALLIN FALLIN FALLIN INTO THE FLAMES!!! your soul is connected to the world youre in youre draggin it down with the weight of your sin surrounded by temptation and y'just give in we're fallin into the flames OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HEEEEELLLLLLFIIIRE YOUR BROW BECOMES SLICK AS YOU PERSPIRE YOU THINK YOURE THIRSTY NOW WAIT TIL IT GETS DRIER AND YA FEEL THE HEAT OF THE FLAMES OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HELLFIRE YOUR SICK AND SINFUL LIES WILL BUILD A FUNERAL PYRE YOUR PERVERSION SCARS THE STATION SON ITS GONAN FRY HER AND WE ALLLLLL FALL INTO THE FLAMES... oh i have SEEN DAMNATION MY BROTHERS!! ive FELT its searing heat within my VERY BONES !!!!!!! but there is a way me be saved... "OH TELL US FATHER GALAHAD, TELL US" I HEAR YOU CRY "IS IT PIETY IS IT PURITY IS IT VIRTUE?" NO!!! ONLY WAY TO SAVE US NOW IS THE HOLY GRAIL ITSELF... HAHAHAHAHHAAAA.... WELL THAT ORB OF DAMNATION MAKES THE SUN SEEM PALE YOURE QUITE CORRECT TO QUIVER YOU ARE RIGHT TO QUAIL THE ONLY WAY TO SAVE US IS TO FIND THAT GRAIL OR WE ALL FALL INTO THE FLAMES OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HELLFIRE YOUR SKIN STARTS TO SIZZLE AS YOU EXPIRE YOU CLAIM TO BE VIRTUOUS BUT YOURE A LIAR !!!!! AND YOU FEEL THE HEAT OF THE FLAMES ... i said HEEEELLLLFIIIIRE HEEEEEEEELLLLFIRE HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLFIIIIIREEE HEEEEEEELLLLLLFIIIIIIRE OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HELLFIRE AT THE HEART OF THAT INFERNO THAT WILL NEVER TIRE IVE SEE THE END IS NIGH AND DAMNATIONS NIGHER OH WE ALL FALL INTO THE FLAMES

Ok i know this is kind of a shot in the dark because hes so obscure but i need to speak my truth. Hes so insane. The narrator calls him a “holy roller.” He has a vision which is meant to tell him that the place they live is LITERALLY going to get burnt to a crisp because its slowly falling into the sun. But hes like Oh my god i just had a vision of hell i need to save everyone from eternal damnation. And he happily gets killed and turned into a pile of slop because he believes its what he was “chosen to do” he quite literally dies for his religion. Hes also quite funny. I like him. Thank you

#junkrat #overwatch #junk rat #High Noon over Camelot #The Mechanisms #Galahad #cct polls #tumblr tournament #tumblr bracket #tumblr polls

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lucathy143 · 10 months

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Things that make the Who made me a princess novel and manhwa different:

There are many things that make the Who made me a princess or Suddenly I became a princess novel and manhwa different. I prefer the plot line of novel better and just the novel in general, but the art of the manhwa is without a doubt beautiful.

The novel and the manhwa first begin to differ after Athanasia’s debutante. The manhwa really begins to separate from the manhwa once Claude loses his memories. Here are scenes that show up in the novel but not the manhwa. I also explain the differences between the two. If it has (novel) in the beginning of the bullet point, it means that its a scene that didn't make the manhwa at all.

But there are three things I need to make clear before I beging.

An important to make clear before i begin is that Anastacius in the novel was actually killed by Claude, and was never possessed by Aeternitas. Aeternitas possesses a man and pretends to be the magician of the black tower (the magician of the black tower is actually Lucas) which the man comes when Athy is 14. Claude knows the man is a fake, and so does Lucas but neither of them do anything.He pretends to be the magician of the black tower until athy is 18.

Another thing is that the manhwa focuses mostly about family and that's why Athy never ends up with anyone (though she goes on a date with Lucas). In the novel, it's about family, growth, friendship and romance. She does end up with Lucas (sorry to those who ship Athy with Ezikiel) and there a lot more moments between Lucas and Athy in the novel. The novel is just better in general, I'm sorry.

The last thing to make clear is Jennette in the manhwa is different in the manhwa and novel. In the manhwa she is unrealistic and naive and i hate it. in the manhwa, she gets over the fact everyone lied to her about her family too easily. Her reaction to not actually being Athy's sister and Claude's daughter in the manhwa is so unrealistic. Jennette leaves with her uncle and lives "happily ever after." thats why so many people hate Jennette in the manhwa, because she is naive. Spoon portrays her different and makes her seem that she is always happy, and forgives everyone for lying to her, but she is different in the novel. Jennette isn't as naive. tbh Jennette does say some rude things, but its better than Jennette being all innocent and being fine after everything that happened to her. if all that happened to me, i would react just as Jennette does in the novel. in general, jennette's character is so much better in the novel. but then shit goes down but i will explain that later because i am making this in chronological order...

After Lucas leaves for the World Tree, Athanasia gets caught up in a mana explosion causing Claude to lose his memories. Like the manhwa, Athanasia wakes up after fifteen days and visits Claude. But in the novel, Athanasia doesn’t figure out Claude has amnesia until later on.

in the novel Athanasia doesn’t see Claude for days after he wakes up after saving Athy from the explosion. She’s confused as to why he hasn’t visited her and tries to sneek into his palace multiple times but Felix and Lily don’t let her. Unlike the manhwa, Lily tells her that Blackie is fine and that Claude is suffering from amnesia. That doesn’t happen in the novel.

One day when Lily and Felix aren’t there, she leaves her room. Hannah tries to stop Athanasia as she looks everywhere for Blackie, but is unable to find him. Lily comes, and Athanasia thinks that Claude is the one that killed Blackie (because he tried to the last time she coughed blood). Athy believed the reason Claude wasn’t visiting her was because he was guilty he killed Blackie (which isn’t true). Athanasia goes to his palace and finds him in his garden. Felix tells her to leave and gets all protective (which was cute and i wish all these scenes were added) but Athy ignores and asks Claude if he killed Blackie. Claude isn't very nice to her (like the manhwa) and confines Athanasia to the Emerald palace.

After she meets Claude in the garden, Lily and Felix tell her that Claude was suffering from amnesia. So in the novel, she wasn't told about Claude's amnesia nor Blackie's disappearance. Another difference is that Athy gets over Blackie's death much easier in the manhwa. In the novel she takes much longer to get over it.

Athanasia begins learning magic and tries to use money like Lucas did, and they come out non stop. There is a huge pile of coins and Athy falls asleep on them and Lily finds her.

The novel of Who made me a Princess and Beware of the Brothers are written by the same author. This is very important because Cabel Ernst (the second oldest brother) appears in the novel a lot because he is the third male lead. (its cool how the stories connect with one another) He was also Ezikiel's school friend. Cabel doesn't show up once in the manhwa. (i will mention more scenes with Cabel in it later on)

There is actually a scene in the Who made me a princess novel where Athanasia and Hari Ernst (fl of Beware of the Brothers meet). Athy is hiding from Claude in Artlanta on the top of the ceiling of Ezikiel old school. Hari sees through her disguise and they talk for a little. Hari is rushes by Erich to leave but drops her necklace. For the next couple of days Athy tries to find an opportunity to give it back, but eventually gives up and leaves and accidentally teleports to Claude's room (like the manhwa) and then goes back to Artlanta. Athy goes back into the school to return the necklace. Athy meets Cabel then.

Athanasia stays in disguise as a student in Artlanta for a little while before she sees Jennette in the novel. Eventually, she gets to talk to Hari once again and returns the neckalace. She meets Cabel again when she's talking to Hari.

That's when Athanasia realizes that Cabel was the second male lead of Lovely Princess.

Athanasia goes to check on Jennette and sees Duchess Alpheus (Ezekiel's mother), who doesn't show up once in the manhwa. Ezekiel, the duke and the duchess are all wearing black and Athanasia is confused as to why. She figures out that Jennette's aunt passed away. Jennette doesn't beg Duke Alpheus to go to the funeral like the manhwa and remains her room. Ezekiel goes to look for Jennette in her room and hugs her while she's crying. Ezikiel actually comforts her unlike in the manhwa.

The day Athy goes with Jennette to the festival, two boys approach them and try to harass them. But Athy screams at them and swears at them (using very... interesting language). And they get really mad and tries to hurt them, but she creates a candy ball the size of her head and hits both of the boy's balls. She ate that up fr.

Athanasia in the manhwa stops living in hiding because Jennette tells her that Claude doesn't want to kill her anymore. That doesn't happen in the novel. In the novel, she looks at the parade and sees Claude from very far away and decides that she will visit the Emerald Palace when Claude's away. When she teleports, Lily is on the sofa doing embroidery. But Claude made a doppelgänger of himself to appear at the parade, and tricked Athanasia into thinking he wouldn't be there so she would go home. Claude used Lily as bait, but Lily did it willingly because she knew Claude wouldn't hurt her. Athy realized if Claude really wanted to kill her, he would've done it ages ago, and decides to talk with her. Athy ends up crying and Claude apologizes and hugs her.

(novel) Lily tells Athy that Claude would admire the portrait of them two everyday and would watch the video stone. Lily also says that she thinks of Athanasia of as her own daughter. (this is such a cute scene).

In the manhwa, Athanasia begins having tea parties with Jennette and Claude, but that doesn't happen once in the novel.

(novel) Athanasia doesn't forgive Claude for what he did right away. She refuses to visit Claude first. Lily and Felix encourage her to visit Claude first, but Ces agrees with Athy to play hard to get. Claude visits two later and they have lunch together. (cute scene) Athy brewed Lippe tea for him and she says that she might've poisoned it and Claude says he would drink even if it was poisoned anyway because she gave it to him.

(novel) Athy has a nightmare and goes to Claude's palace in the middle of the night because she's scared. She visits him in his office and he picks her up and carries her to his room. When Athanasia is laying down in the bed, she tells Claude that she wants to meet her mom. Claude says "me too."

(novel) Athy wants to go outside for the night and asks Claude for permission. Claude says no but Athy encourages him that no matter where she goes that she will always come back. When she's back from the festival she gifts Claude cotton candy.

(novel) Athy meets the mages (not magician which is lucas) of the black tower.

the headmaster asks athy for a strand of hair or blood for experiment and claude gets so mad he blows up half of the tower. eventually Lucas blows up the other

(novel) Claude comes to athy's 15th birthday and spends the entire day with her

LUCAS RETURNS! in the novel Lucas returns from the World Tree, he takes Athanasia to Claude and sticks the World Tree into him and then Athanasia. This is different from the manhwa because it happens right on her 15th birthday, and it is a much simpler process than in the manhwa.

**Everything from now on only happens in the novel because Athy never turns 18 in the manhwa**

Jennette hosts a picnic at her estate and Athy attends (they are 17 now) During the picnic, Duke Alpheus and Ezekiel got "lost" while hunting and end up at the picnic. Duke Alpheus was actually worried about Jennette who was hosting a picnic for the first time. (which is actually adorable). Ezekiel kisses Athy's hand (which had gloves) to say goodbye. After the picnic, Lucas appears in the carriage and gifts Athy new gloves that were better than the old ones

Athy meets the fake magician of the tower. He asks Athy if she believes in karma and then asks if she believes in reincarnation. After telling Lucas, he leaves without giving a proper response. When he does, Athy swings a pillow at the air and he teleports back because he forgot to tell her something and gets hit. She almost fell and he caught her.

Athy has a tea party and Lucas visits and notices that Helena likes him. Athy and Lucas are talking about her and Athy lies saying Helena is interested in magic. He asks why Athy is so scared of Lucas when he hasn't done anything bad in front of her or to someone else.

Athy brings up the bubbles that Lucas created when they first met (to kill her). Lucas lies saying that he didn't try to kill her, and create regular bubbles for her and Athy pops them.

Athy mentions how cute he used to be when he was a child so Lucas transforms. She squeezes his cheeks so much and Lucas tells her to stop. She doesn't stop, so Lucas changes to adult form. When Athanasia releases her hands, he tells Athanasia to keep squishing his cheeks.

A mage of the Black Tower tells Lucas that the headmaster took some of Athanasia's hair and destroys the entire lab

There is a banquet Athy attends to that's hosted at the palace for the Artlantan ambassadors that are visiting (including Cabel Ernst) Before the banquet Athy sits on angel statue to see them at the parade. Cabel sees her and calls out "MISS FAIRY?"

(novel) Duke Seloid says things about how Athy can't protect herself and is weak because she is a women. Athanasia breaks a knife and a fork with her bare hands. Claude also broke his utensils and plate in anger

Cabel gifts Athanasia a flower from her own flower garden. When Athanasia goes back to her room and Lucas sees it, he gets jealous. Lucas feeds the flower to her bird, Bluey, and buries Athanasia in a pile of flowers.

Athanasia visits Jennette, Ezekiel and Cabel on the training grounds in secret. Ezekiel and Cabel have a battle and tie and go to Jennette after. They see Athanasia and approach her. They decided to have another match and Ezekiel wins. Lucas shows up to the training grounds and Cabel wants to battle him. Lucas beats him completely

Later on in the novel, it shows Jennette's POV of what happened. After Athanasia leaves, Jennette tells Ezekiel to go check on Cabel's condition and leaves her alone on the grounds. Jennette mentions that ever since she met Claude in the garden during Athy's picnic she had felt so depressed (which was 3 years ago). This is so much more realistic than the way the manhwa makes it. Anyone would feel depressed if their supposed "father" didn't accept them. Jennette also says that's she's jealous of Athanasia.

Athanasia attends a hunting competition. Cabel asks for Athy's handkerchief. This scene is funny because Athy doesn't have one so she asks Felix if he can give his to Cabel.

Athy's shoe gets stuck in mud during the hunting competition. Ezekiel helps her and Felix leaves alone in the tent. Athy can tell Ezekiel likes her, and starts to say that she doesn't like him back. He says he sometimes would like to lock Athanasia in a bird cage so she would at least see him more (which was a concerning confession...)

Lucas shows up to Athanasia who feels bad for rejecting Ezekiel. Lucas heard her reject him. Athanasia admits that at one point she did have a crush on Ezekiel, but not anymore. Lucas says that he "doesn't have pathetic thoughts like wanting to lock you inside a bird cage" and that "the entire world is a birdcage on his palm."

Like I said earlier, in the novel, Athanasia takes longer to get over Blackie disappearance. She tried not to get any new animals because they reminded her of Blackie. This leads to Lucas bringing her a new pet, and she names it Nox.

Athanasia is talking with Lily one night and asks if she wants to get married. Lily says that she doesn't need to get married and that Athy is like a child to her. Athy says she feels that Lily is like her real Mom and that she has two moms.

Lucathy's date on a lake. (on top of the water)

The final party before the Artlantan ambassadors leave. Funniest part about this is that Claude planned to arrive half way through the party (Athy later figures out because he doesn't want to dance with her and get his feet stepped on)

Ezekiel asks Athanasia to dance, right when she is about to respond Lucas shows up in adult form and asks her to dance. He takes her and dances with her. (i love this scene sm) Lucas admits he hates dancing but still continues to dance with her.

Jennette and Ezekiel are talking in the hallway after Athy started dancing. Jennette tells Ezekiel that even though he likes Athanasia, she will never like him back- just the way that Ezekiel will never like Jennette back. Jennette wanted to make Ezekiel angry because she feels he doesn't care for her all. That Ezekiel only does anything with her just to be polite. Instead of getting angry, Ezekiel simply rejects her.

Outside the party, while Lucas and Athy are dancing and after Jennette was rejected, Jennette meets Claude. Lucas and Athanasia feel a wave of magic outside and go out there. Jennette was outside crying where she finds Claude. She takes her ring off to reveal her gem eyes and calls out "father."

Lucas and Athanasia arrive at the scene and she forces Lucas to get rid of Jennette's black magic

Everyone is in shock. Felix doesn't even recognize Lucas in his adult form.

A day passes and Jennette was told that her father was not Claude, but his brother Anastacius. Jennette is devasteted and hates how she has been lied to all these years. She doesn't know what she has sinned, even says "the sin of being born."

Athanasia let Jennette stay at the Emerald Palace not as a criminal, but as guest. Felix is leading Jennette to the carriage when Jennette sees Ezekiel and Athanasia. Jennette felt hatred to all her loved ones, and then she thinks that she would rather disappear from the world than hate them.

The bracelet Lucas gave to Jennette to control her black magic breaks at the negative thought. Ezekiel runs towards her, and Jennette thinks that it was the first time Ezekiel ever cared about her.

Athy controls her black magic before anything happens because Lucas taught her the night before.

Lucas brings the fake black tower's magician beaten up (Aeternitas) and officially introduces himself as the Black Tower's Magician.

Lucas brings Aeternitas and Jennette to Claude. He tells Aeternitas to eat Jennette's black magic. He is refusing. But Claude says that he doesn't''t care if Jennette dies or not. Athy glares at him and Claude flinches and says that he wants Aeternitas to fix Jennette because Athy wants to. (Claude really doesn't want Athanasia to hate him).

Aeternitas also reincarnates and remembers his past life (just like Athy). Lucas is the only one that remembers him each life. He promises Aeternitas that he will greet him first in his next life if he helps Jennette. Aeternitas is so moved he also removed her jeweled eyes.

Claude tells Athanasia he blames himself for everything that happened. That when he realized him and Felix, Lily, Hannah and Ces etc. couldn't comfort her loneliness he placed friends her age. But the friends were Lucas, the Black Tower's Magician who lived hundreds of years. And Jennette, the daughter of Claude's enemy. (claude really cares for her it's so cute)

Claude tells Athy to not get too close to Lucas. Athanasia defends Lucas and Claude asks if she has been bewitched by him

The last chapter of the novel Lucas kisses Athy the night before she turns 18, at midnight. (best chapter ever i swear)

Sidestories

Another Busy Day as 18 (Lucas gives Athanasia a dragon for her 18th birthday and Athanasia goes out with Claude outside the palace)

Became a Princess in Wonderland (Athy by accidentally switched to the Lovely Princess dimension)

Lucas (Lucas' backstory, his childhood up to when he meets Athy, it's actually quite sad)

Became a Dad One Day (Claude's POV of meeting Athy)

What Happens When Lucas from a Parallel World Crosses Dimensions (this is a sequel to Became a Princess in Wonderland, it's when Lovely Princess Lucas goes through many dimensions to find Athy and he sees many different universes)

girl i was so bored so i decided to do this and didn't expect it to be so long. but i wanted to reread the novel so i reread while spotting the differences and (most of) the scenes that aren't in the novel.

#who made me a princess #manhwa #lucathy #please read the novel its so much better #webnovel #webcomic #suddenly became a princess one day

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dandylovesturtles · 1 year

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just a little drabble thing

I know I have stuff to work on but in my defense, I've done writing on both my projects today so leave me alone with my brainrot

this is absolutely the fault of @intotheelliwoods and the brainrot their Leo losing an arm anyway art has given me. Please go check out that post and the linked comic and give it all the likes and reblogs SERIOUSLY.

okay here's a thing byyyyeeee

He sees the ball out of his peripheral vision, before he even hears Mikey yell, "Heads up!" He reaches to catch it, but it smacks into the side of his head anyway, and it's only once it collides that he realizes.

It hit his right side. He'd reached with a hand that wasn't there anymore.

It's just a rubber ball that Mikey had been kicking around. It didn't hurt where it made contact, just bounced off his head harmlessly before dropping to the floor and rolling away. Nothing to be upset about. And yet...

Something sad and ugly twists in his gut.

"Whoops! Sorry, Leo!" Mikey's voice pulls his attention. He's holding the ball now and looking at Leo and Leo wishes he wouldn't. "Didn't mean to hit you."

"You didn't, that was on purpose. I've been working on my headers!" The joke rolls out of him with such practiced ease he doesn't even have to think about it. He's grinning and he hopes nothing shows on his face.

It's such a little, stupid thing and he has no reason to be upset so why is his chest burning?

"...Everything okay?" asks Mikey, looking at him too closely now, and Leo is struck by the urge to push him away so he'll stop, an urge he quickly pushes down because wow, dramatic much?

What is he going to say? "I couldn't catch the ball and now I want to cry about it"? What is he, five?

"Just thinking I want to get some snacks," he lies, backing away from Mikey toward the lair's exit. "Be back in a few. Hey, if you want something, text me!"

"Leo!" Mikey calls after him, but he's already running through the tunnels like the coward he is.

...

"...Hey Leon."

Leo peeks up around his knees. Leonardo is standing over him, so big and tall and imposing. Leo isn't sure how it's possible that he ever gets that big.

He's not wearing his arm, and Leo's eyes linger on the missing piece before sinking back down to his own legs, pulled up to his chest.

"How'd you find me?"

He hears an amused huff. "You think I'd forget where I used to do my teenage angsting?"

"Who's angsting? Not me. I'm angst free."

There's some shuffling, and then he feels a warm weight on his left side.

"You remember what I said? You can tell me anything."

"There's nothing to tell," he tries. When there's no response, he tacks on, "It's stupid anyway."

"How about you tell me what it is, and then I'll decide if I think it's stupid?"

Leo hesitates, reaching over and fiddling with one of his bandages out of habit. Leonardo is quiet, and patient, and Leo hates how it works on him every time.

"...Mikey kicked a ball at me. Probably not on purpose." Not that he would mind if it had been on purpose, actually, because Pizza Supreme knows he's thrown many a thing at his brothers in his life, but that isn't the point. "And I tried to catch it but... I tried to use my right arm, before I remembered, oh yeah, don't got one of those anymore."

"Okay." Leonardo's voice is measured. "What part of that is supposed to be stupid?"

"That it didn't even hurt but I'm out here "teenage angsting" anyway?"

"Okay, poor choice of words. That's my bad." Leonardo leans into him, and Leo doesn't pull back. "Sounds to me like you aren't upset about the ball. Sounds like you're upset about your arm."

"Yeah, well, I spent weeks being sad about that. I'd like for it to be over, please."

"Unfortunately I don't think it works like that, Mini Me. Grief moves at its own pace. Trust me on that."

Leo pulls his head up, fixing his older counterpart with a stare. "You don't seem bothered by it anymore. How'd you manage that?"

He gets a shrug in return. "I don't think you should use my reaction to gauge your own."

"Why not? We're literally the same person."

"We stopped being the same person the day you stopped the invasion."

Leo isn't sure that's true.

Perhaps sensing that such is the case, Leonardo sighs and continues. "I've had longer to get used to it than you. Eventually, your body starts to adjust to make up for it. Plus, I was older than you when it happened, and I'd already lost... things that made an arm feel like nothing by comparison."

Leo shudders at that, and Leonardo reaches with his arm, giving Leo's shoulder a comforting rub.

"It took time, though. And it still trips me up sometimes. My body forgets and tries to reach with an arm that isn't there. The robot arm doesn't help with adjusting."

He can't help but smile at that, just a little. "But it's so cool."

"Damn straight it's cool. Can't wait to see what Donnie's got cooking up for you."

"Raph nixed the flamethrower attachment."

"He's probably already added it, you just have to swear not to tell."

Leo snickers, and Leonardo laughs along.

"One way we're still the same," Leonardo says when they're quiet again, "is that we aren't good at being kind to ourself. But you're going to have bad days, and you're going to have days where the little things feel insurmountable. And I'm asking you on those days to be kind to yourself."

The sad, ugly thing in Leo's gut is still there, but he feels better anyway, staring at the wall of the tunnel with Leonardo's weight still at his side. Be kind to himself, huh?

"...Seems like you could use the same advice, old man."

Leonardo chuckles, reaching over to give his head a light cuff. "Yeah, yeah. Let's try to learn together."

#dandy fanfiction #rottmnt #rise leonardo #future leonardo #it's the learning to be kind to yourself by literally being kind to yourself for me #who's peepaw is this?#ell's I guess #peepaw is peepaw

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dracofeathers · 4 months

Text

Calling Fic Writers! Story Idea? -Angst-

If this is already something someone has made, ya'll need to link me ASAP cause its been rotting in my brain all week (if not longer) and I very highly doubt I'd ever be able to write it properly LOL. Art? Maybe...

Please excuse my scatterbrained explanation. I'll probably be adding to this as my little angst-loving brain thinks of more details.

-----

So, after x amount of time, Aziraphale returns/escapes to the bookshop from Heaven and being Supreme Archangel....just completely defeated, dazed, exhausted and just about broken/verge of breakdown. I've pictured the scene with or without his wings. Crowley and Muriel are there (or at least Crowley) and are understandably surprised/confused.

He just collapses in a sobbing heap muttering and crying "I'm sorry" "Please" "You/we can't do this" "Why" "I don't want to fall" among other unintelligible words, but doesn't seem to quite be with it enough to attempt to explain whats going on. Maybe he'd gain very slight, brief clarity upon seeing Crowley (who has also been a mess), keeps apologizing, begging for forgiveness (from him? Her? Both? Maybe) until finally passing out.

Of course Crowley steps up and tries to take care of him, and figure out whats going on. Because no matter how mad he might get at Aziraphale, how hurt he was by the end of S2, he'll always return and help his angel, because he loves him. Also I'm positive Crowley already knows Aziraphale didn't make that choice easily, that he hurt the angel as well. Bountiful soft, care-taking Crowley here because I live for it.

Eventually when Azi is a bit more stable, (as he would often rotate between quiet desolate/defeated shell shock, and near hysterical crying in fear and grief) Crowley gets bits and pieces of what happened out of him.

The "Supreme Archangel" position was merely a sort of placeholder/fake title, not an actual promotion. Because why would they want to actually give Aziraphale that kind of power to potentially use against them and their plans? He was dangerous enough

The Metatron (and other angels) lied/manipulated Aziraphale the whole time to get him to do what he/heaven wanted. And to of course separate him and Crowley. Possible eventual threats towards Crowley and others to keep Azi "in line". Book of life?

Plans of course include the second coming as it was mentioned, but I'm sure there are others mixed in. More apocalypse starting schemes etc. Never really give the full details and kept the real plans secret. Jesus only mentioned, never seen (very suspicious). Azi tries to investigate but keeps getting interrupted or thwarted. Kept a very close eye on.

Much gaslighting/mental and emotional abuse and manipulation, slowly wearing Aziraphale down in order to break and better control him. No erasing/changing of memories cause its over done to me.

God is still MIA and no one knows whats going on with Her. The Metatron says he speaks with Her, but lets face it he can't be trusted. Definitely scheming on his own with others, maybe Hell as well?

Aziraphale never falls of course, I couldn't do that to our precious angel. He'd be traumatized enough anyway.

Aziraphale tries to be a good angel so bad it hurts, wants to believe in Heaven and "The Great Plan" but is only ever hurt and betrayed for all his efforts up there.

I WILL MAKE THESE TWO WILL HAVE A PROPER TALK I SWEAR

--------

I just really love hurt/comfort, angst and them taking loving tender care of each other. They would have a happy ending of course. This is how I cope until season 3, don't judge me xD

Also, what I was listening to during this ramble:

youtube

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genericpuff · 8 months

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Hello. I wasn’t the anon from last time but I realized my question came off as rude and standoff-ish. it was actually just a genuine question of whether you think all webtoon original creators are/should be held to the same level of scrutiny as LO is. You said before that its okay for indie comics to look messy or unprofessional because they’re passion projects. But I was just thinking of all the webtoon originals that are overworked and under paid. Kind of makes me feel bad because webtoon presents them as professional works— yet treats them like indie projects. And its throwing them under the bus because they dont have any of the same resources as traditional print. When rachel gets called out for reusing panels/artworks, adding filler, and taking shortcuts it sets a precedent that all webtoon originals shouldn’t do that.

Oh you're good!!! Sorry if I came at you like a flying monkey, it was just very similar to the last set of asks so I made a faulty assumption LOL

I do think there's a lot of responsibility on WT's shoulders to do better by their creators. A lot of them are burnt out, underpaid, overworked, as you said, and I'm definitely not looking past that. The only reason I get on Rachel's case as much as I do is because she has WAY more assistants than others, people who are literally industry professionals (seriously, look up their socials/art pages sometime, some of these people literally work in the larger entertainment industries like movies and gaming, it makes it feel like their skills are being SEVERELY wasted on LO with how bad it looks week after week) and there's just a lot of evidence that points to how much Rachel lies about how much she contributes (she's also definitely one of the top earning creators on the platform, at least here in NA). That's not even getting into how much WT carries Rachel and LO on their shoulders, from giving LO extensive ad space every week (ad space that's constantly being fought for by other Originals creators who are lucky to get even a couple hours per season in the ad roulette) to outright paying for awards and articles to be written about it. Like, far be it from me to make assumptions as an outsider looking in, but I don't get the sense that Rachel is in the same ballpark of struggling that a lot of Originals creators are. If anything there are probably creators struggling to be seen right now because of WT constantly giving her and her comic preferential treatment over others. And yeah, that's on Webtoons, but you don't exactly see Rachel doing anything to lift up her peers or talk about her experiences with Webtoons the same way many other creators are and that says a lot IMO.

And, speaking as a creator and as a reader, I'm definitely not against the notion of webtoon creators using whatever shortcuts they need to use, but I still feel like there's a line you gotta draw somewhere before those shortcuts become definitively "lazy" low quality crutches. Those kinds of shortcuts can become a very slippery slope between "doing the best you can" and "making no effort at all". If I can use a creator who's not Rachel as an example, Let's Play has a LOT of this kind of thing going on.

I can totally empathize with needing to use shortcuts, I use them all the time and I'm not being burnt at both ends the same way Originals creators are, but while there is the concern that criticizing them sets a precedent that people shouldn't use them ever, there's the opposite concern that not talking about it when it's very obviously cheap sets a precedent that it's okay to give your audience garbage and still expect them to stick around and pay money for your work.

It's not really a battle that sits squarely on the shoulders of the creators, though, a lot of it does come down to Webtoons. But I think there are also creators who are just sorta like that. See Snailords as an example, they use WT underpaying them all the time as an argument/excuse for their behavior, but they're a genuinely shitty person with a nasty attitude who very blatantly manipulates their young audience (literally made up of children!) and they've been like that since before they joined WT as an Originals creator, so it doesn't matter if WT is in the picture or not, Snailords is just like that.

When it comes to Rachel, I genuinely believe that she wasn't always like this with her work, there was a time when she put actual effort into her art - but that time has been long gone since 2019/2020. And I don't think WT paying her more or loosening the strictness of her deadlines is the solution, I just think LO should have ended a long time ago before it got to that point. When LO's art and writing started to turn, there was that initial concern that it was her taking these shortcuts out of necessity for her health and work/life balance... but then there's a point where it becomes abundantly clear that the creator just doesn't care anymore and I think that's a point Rachel crossed a long time ago, probably around the start of S2 if I had to try and guess exactly where.

When it comes right down to it, Webtoons Originals is still a form of publisher, and if you sign that contract, you're going to be held to higher standards than creators who aren't because you're no longer a hobbyist, you're doing this as your job. That's not to say you don't deserve empathy ever, especially in the working climate that WT demands, but if you're gonna be working as a professional in an industry that's begging to be respected among its peers, you gotta hold yourself to higher standards. To really get across what I mean by that, if the webtoon/webcomic industry wants to be taken seriously, especially here in the west where it's competing with DC and Marvel, maaaybe it should at least have some modicum of quality control to ensure there's a mutual level of respect between the audience and the creator. I think that's something WT needs to be taking more seriously and, by extension, they should be doing more to both provide assistance and accommodations to their creators as well as quality control to ensure they're holding these works to a standard they expect people to pay for. This is especially true for a comic like LO which they're insisting still has a show in development (they aren't but that's another topic lol), of course people are gonna have higher standards for a comic that's won as many awards as it has and has gotten television and merch deals.

And aside from all that, I don't think anyone gets mad right off the bat at a comic that isn't "perfect", usually they'll just go "oh okay, this is what the comic is, it's not for me" and move on (Religiously Gay is an example of a comic like this, there was already a lot of controversy surrounding it when it came out but it was pretty clear that was just what the comic was so I didn't bother reading it further). It's when a comic starts off on a good note and builds that rep and then becomes a cheap reproduction of what it used to be that audiences tend to get more upset - because the creator has built that rep with them and set those expectations, which they're now failing. Look no further than S8 of Game of Thrones. It's often WAY more disappointing than a project just never improving in quality in the first place because you're seeing, in real time, a project you know can do better fail at that and even get worse.

I'll also mention, on a personal note, that I've found shortcuts that I tried and ultimately didn't end up liking, even if they technically improved the output of my work. I started using 3D models last year for my main project, and while they improved my anatomy consistency, now they're making my poses feel very stiff, lifeless and boring, and my characters just don't feel alive anymore. So I'd MUCH rather have expressive art that's a little messy sometimes than stiff art with an accurate hip to torso ratio. I still aim for consistency as best I can, obviously I don't want my characters' appearances to be morphing from panel to panel, but in practice, most people don't care or notice if an arm or leg is a little out of place.

All that said, when it comes to LO, I don't call that stuff out as like, a genuine legit criticism. It's more just because it's hilarious and I often can't believe I never noticed those things (which is exactly the former point I just mentioned at play, most people don't notice these things). So that's where I'll repeat, don't confuse my shitposting of LO and how silly it can look in hindsight with like, legitimate criticism that I would blanket apply to every project I read. Apply common sense where necessary. Don't ever punch down.

And maybe also just don't use me as a monolith for these things, I'm literally just a guy talking shit on the Internet and participating in some of the worst that fandom culture has to offer LOL Time will tell if I will ever pay for my crimes（；´д｀）ゞ

#maybe i should start holding myself to a higher standard if people are taking my shitposting as a behavior manual u.u #also damn webtoons do better #lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus #ask me anything #ama #antiloreolympus #anon ama #anon ask me anything

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forasecondtherewedwon · 3 months

Text

Bodies in the Theatre

Fandom: The Artful Dodger Pairing: Jack x Belle Rating: E Word Count: 1021

For today's @dodgerfoxweek prompt: post-series

Summary: Jack and Belle make a new memory on the operating table where she almost died.

She lives, and he’s afraid to be near her. She probably sees it before he does, feels it before he does, frowning because he’s always maintaining a distance, clasping his hands behind his back. He thinks, for a while, that it’s a reversion to propriety; she’s been recast, a finished vase back into raw clay on a spinning wheel, made over again, and he doesn’t realize it’s him setting her up on a high shelf, out of his reach.

It’s her who shows him, of course. It can only be her. One day, when the hospital is quiet and the theatre floor is clean, she insists on closeness. One step closer and he feels the thick slickness of blood on his hands. Two steps and she’s cut open beneath him and Jack’s demanding, “Stop. Stop,” holding out a hand to prevent her coming any nearer.

“Jack.” Her eyes are pleading, but tears wobble across his vision. “Look at me.”

“I am looking at you,” he spits, crying freely. “I’m always looking at you. You’re always right there, in front of my eyes. I see you… I see you when I try to sleep…”

His hand is shaking when he lifts it to his face, covers his mouth but can’t muffle the ragged sob. He crumples and she sweeps towards him and it doesn’t matter now because his mind has already gone there, seeing the worse. Her hand is just a weight on his back.

“It’s this room,” he gasps.

She rubs.

“It’s only a room.”

“No.” His breathing hitches, but he forces himself to stand. Her hand is on him still. “You looked… I thought you were…”

“Dead,” she finishes. And it’s the worst thing, but it comes from her living lips. “You couldn’t feel me breathing. You couldn’t find my pulse.”

Hetty will have told her, after he could not. She will have asked, naturally curious about the procedure, probably put out that she couldn’t study the surgery performed on her own body. She knows, and it’s such a relief that his lungs fill properly, his panic beginning to subside.

“It’s over now,” is her promise.

“Not in my head.”

She stands squarely in front of him.

“What’s the worst thing you can imagine?”

“You on that table,” he tells her honestly, immediately.

Taking her hand from his back, she strides to the table. Eyes locked on his, she plants her hands and pushes herself up to sit on its surface.

“Belle…” he says, voice rough, gutted from his throat.

“What next?”

He walks to her slowly, face working through all of it: her fearlessness, her determination to see him through this, her strength in sitting where only weeks ago she lay while Hetty sponged the blood that coursed from her body. He takes her face in his hands. It’s been so long. His hands healed her, but he’s been too afraid that the next time they touched her skin, it would all be taken back. Her body would remember, would recoil. She lifts her face and he brings his mouth down to hers.

“Lie down,” he whispers.

This is harder yet, and easier. She lies back without shifting away from him, so her legs hang off the table. She keeps her eyes open. She doesn’t appear uneasy. He’s trembling as he braces his hands and leans over her. Not checking is impossible; he watches her chest rise and fall, pinches her leg through her loose trousers.

“Ouch.”

“Sorry.”

After a minute, she sighs. He folds over her, ear pressed to the thump of her strong heart.

“I remember this ceiling,” she says, so quiet. “I didn’t think… but I do. I remember your face. I couldn’t feel you kiss me—the pain was too much. That didn’t seem fair. But I was never afraid. If you couldn’t fix it, it meant that it couldn’t be fixed, and all the time I’d had was all I would get. I was relieved, when you put the mask over my face and I breathed in the ether. I was relieved if I’d spent the last of my time with you.”

He releases a pained gasp and turns his face into her blouse. He’s kissing the linen, and then Belle draws it up, and then he’s kissing her skin, her scar, the very line she teetered upon between life and death, his the hand she held as she walked it.

He sighs, hot, and her abdomen quivers. His name moans from her mouth like it doesn’t want to leave. Like the rest of him. That’s right, he doesn’t want to leave her.

They fumble her naked from the scar down, and he never thought he’d be here like this, and his exhausted mind has sketched too many scenes where she isn’t here at all. Because he still doesn’t trust his hands, they’re light, stroking her hips, but his mouth is brave though uncertain, his face between her warm thighs. His tongue licks generously and her hips roll with him. He can hear her breathing, because she does it loudly. On the table, she is alive as he has known her to be, knows her to be, and something in Jack is released.

“I can do it,” he exhales. “I have you, Belle. I can do it.”

Her hands rake through his hair, clutch, and guide his mouth back to her. The wetness on his face, winding trails of sorrow and lingering dread, disappears into the wetness of her. It’s joy now, joy, joy, her knees in the air because she can’t keep them down. He shuts his eyes, just a test, and there’s nothing waiting for him there. Her living presence is too commanding.

This is a theatre and the role she’s played in his life is once-in-a-lifetime. He tells her that he loves her, and he tells her that he loves her, and because she loves him, he knows that he can be loved. He knows that she loves him, and she says it, and he hears her. He hears the breath leaving her body. And he hears it surging back in.

#my writing #The Artful Dodger #dodgerfox #Dr. Jack Dawkins #Lady Belle Fox #dodgerfoxweek2024

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