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justlemmeadoreyou · 7 days

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Hiii bestie!!! What about angstyy blurb but with happy ending like H being really rude nd yelling at her cause she broke his flower vase or something like that nd she is quietly crying nd then he see her nd stops yelling nd then consoling her!!!!

Sorry for so long request:( but love ur all stories 💖

and i love you! thank you for reading my writing .💞💞hope you like this one

words: 800+

warnings: yelling, crying, angst. fluff at the end.

***

"What the bloody hell were you thinking?" Harry's voice boomed through the small flat.

Y/N flinched at his harsh tone, shrinking back a little. She had accidentally knocked over the vase of flowers he had gotten her for their anniversary last week while cleaning.

"I-I'm so sorry, Harry. It was an accident, I swear," she said, her voice wavering.

Harry ran a frustrated hand through his already messy hair. "Those were from our anniversary! Do you have any idea how much those cost? How could you be so careless?"

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes at his angry words. She knew he had spent a lot on those flowers, but it truly had been a complete accident. The vase had been precariously placed on the edge of the table.

"I didn't mean to, I p-promise," she said, a tear escaping down her cheek. "I'll clean it up right away."

She moved to grab some towels and the dustpan but Harry stopped her with a firm hand on her arm. "No, just…just leave it. I'll take care of it."

Y/N nodded meekly, trying her best to hold back the rest of her tears. Harry's grip on her arm was almost painfully tight. She pulled her arm back gently and stepped away, heading for the small bathroom. Once inside with the door locked, she let the damn burst.

Harsh sobs wracked her body as she leaned against the bathroom counter. She hated when Harry got angry like that, especially over something so trivial. The flowers had been beautiful, but they were just flowers. She hadn't meant to knock them over. His harsh words and icy glare cut deeper than he probably realized.

Out in the living room, Harry was trying to regain his composure as he cleaned up the mess of water, dirt, and broken ceramic. He hadn't meant to fly off the handle like that, but seeing those flowers - a gift he had put so much thought and effort into - carelessly destroyed had set him off.

As the anger began to dissipate, shame started creeping in. The look of fear and hurt on Y/N's face made his chest ache. He shouldn't have yelled at her like that, especially not over some stupid flowers. She was so good to him, so loving and caring. She didn't deserve to be treated that way.

Lost in his thoughts, Harry didn't immediately notice the muffled sobs coming from the bathroom. His head whipped towards the sound and he felt his heart plummet into his stomach.

Y/N was crying. Because of him.

He tossed the towels aside and quickly made his way to the bathroom door, knocking lightly.

"Y/N? Love, open the door, please," he called gently.

There was a sniffle from the other side before her shaky voice responded. "Go away, Harry. I…I need a minute."

"No, sweetheart, please let me in," he pleaded. "I'm so sorry I yelled, I didn't mean to hurt you like that."

The lock clicked and the door cracked open slowly. Y/N peered out, her eyes red and puffy from crying. A fresh wave of guilt washed over Harry.

"Oh, love," he whispered, pulling her into his arms.

She went willingly, burying her face in his chest as the tears started anew. Harry rubbed soothing circles on her back, pressing kisses into her hair.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N," he murmured. "I was way out of line. Those flowers didn't matter, not compared to you. Nothing is more important than you."

Y/N sniffled against his shirt. "B-But you seemed so upset about them. I didn't mean to ruin your gift like that."

"Shh, shh, it's okay," Harry assured her. "I overreacted completely. They were just flowers, an object that can be replaced. You're my whole world, Y/N. I love you more than anything."

He tilted her chin up so he could look into her beautiful eyes. They were still watery with tears, but there was a glimmer of hope in them now.

"You mean that?" she asked quietly. "You're not still mad?"

Harry shook his head adamantly. "Not at all, darling. I'm sorry I made you think that some dumb flowers were more important than you feeling loved and safe. That was incredibly stupid of me."

A small smile tugged at the corners of Y/N's lips and she leaned up to kiss him softly. "I love you, Harry. So much."

He returned her kiss with every ounce of love and adoration he felt for this woman. "I love you too, more than you'll ever know. Now, what do you say we cuddle up on the couch and watch a cheesy movie? My treat."

Y/N giggled, the final tears drying on her cheeks. "I'd like that a lot."

As they settled onto the couch, Harry pulled Y/N close, peppering her face with soft kisses.

"Thank you for being so patient and forgiving with me, my love," he said earnestly. "You deserve the world."

Y/N nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck, leaving a lingering kiss there. "As long as I have you, that's all the world I need."

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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#harry styles #harry styles blurb #blurb night #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #harry styles fic

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angryracoon92 · 24 days

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I've been reading ACOTAR again these last days and I can't stop thinking about Elain, as a person, and Elain with Lucien.

I've been out of the fandom for a while, and I think we're completely missing something big with the ship war going on with Elucien and Elriel. I think SJM has an insane opportunity to give such a message to her readers. I'm mature enough now to take some steps back on the story, but it might not be the case for everybody. At least it wasn't the case for my younger self.

Elain gets a lot of hate because of misogyny, right? Because she's traditionally feminine, loves her flowers and her baking, is a very social person, and isn't a strong empowered warrior protagonist. I'm not saying those carcters are bad. They are necessary to break gender stereotypes and inspire girls to do what they want in life and not to be afraid to be themselves if they don't align with the stereotypes. But I've noticed that this type of caracter has become so mainstream now that it has lost its meaning and is no longer a perspective of choice but an expectation.

This ship war reminded me of Twilight. If I remember right, Bella says at some point that choosing between Edward and Jacob is more about choosing what version of herself is the one she wants to be. So, of course, she chooses an extraordinary life, rebels against the norms, and becomes a vampire. That's good for her. It carried the right message at that time.

But with Elain, SJM can completely change that message around. If Elain chooses Azriel, she chooses an extraordinary life too. She gets to become an active member of the Night Court, probably will be trained as a warrior or a spy at some point and become a revelant political figure with her seer abilities. That's an attractive life, and would probably allow her character to evolve a lot. But it once again perpetuate that idea that you have to become a very warrior type of character for you to have some value. So we're teaching teens that they have to be extraordinary for people to love them and value them, putting a lot of pressure on them, and encouraging them to, in the end, embody the new stereotype of women that we have created.

All the beauty of the idea lies there. If Elain chooses Lucien, she won't have to have that dark, alluring life but can choose an ordinary one. She won't be expected to stop her gardening, to act or speak differently. She doesn't have to completely change her personality, and she is still loved and cherished, but for exactly who she is. Even if she can become that super cool person, but not in alignment with herself. It could show that you can be loved even as an ordinary person with an ordinary life. That quiet lives are just as important as epic ones. And that a simple life can still be filled with happiness and beauty. It's a tolkienesque idea, but it's so important to celebrate ordinary lives.

If SJM writes Elucien, she can create a whole spectrum of representation. You can be a queen, a warrior, or a lover, and each of them is just as good as the other if it feels right to you.

And, by writing all of this, I don't even want to take part in this Lucien vs Azriel thing, or even go deeper in the characters. It's not about the characters themselves. There are a lot of amazing people who have done precise analysis of the canon text already. I just felt that it was important for me to share it somewhere, and I've seen no one talking about it already.

Please don't hesitate to interact with this post because I would love to talk about it with someone. Thanks for reading if you made it that far :)

#acotar #elain archeron #elucien #elriel #lucien vanserra #azr

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mcverse · 7 months

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☆ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝: 𝐘𝐞𝐬/𝐍𝐨

☆ 𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

☆ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐠 𝟏𝟑

☆ 𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐫: 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 & 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐈 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐬 : ))))

☆ 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

𝐏𝐥𝐬 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝: 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝟏𝟖+

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 & 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝

You felt incredibly dumb. The whole incident that landed you in the hospital at this very moment was embarrassing. And it's all because of your habit of playing otome games.

Typically, they're harmless, but the one you're currently immersed in forces you to stay up at odd hours or forego sleep to ensure you don't miss anything important.

The issue is that you rely heavily on sleep. When you told people that your favorite thing to do was sleep, it wasn't a lie. If you don't get enough sleep, you experience phantom pains and anxiety spikes, which creates a messy situation.

But this time, it was a completely different story. Your unfortunate sleep deprivation caused you to stumble and tumble down a staircase while heading to the gym for your manager responsibilities.

Yes, you know, sounds fucking crazy right?!

The flight of stairs wasn't particularly long, thankfully. However, the gash on your head had everyone in the vicinity fretting over you like mother hens, to the point where you were embarrassingly transported away by an ambulance instead of heading to the infirmary.

You felt it was your responsibility to inform the coach, right? While you anticipated her to relay the message to the team, you weren't prepared for their intense reaction, leading them to rush to the hospital right after finishing practice.

Squeezing a group of grown men into a hospital room as small as yours was both comical and a bit of a challenge, but they managed it, crowding together just to receive an update on your condition. They could have simply sent a text, but it was genuinely thoughtful of them to come in person.

You flinch slightly as a small pink teddy bear lands in your lap. The person responsible is Midorima, who, as always, appears annoyed. You get the sense it's because of you, and his next words only confirm your suspicion.

"If you had your lucky item, none of this would be happening, nanodayo," he scolds you, his tone grumbling as he adds, "Why do I have to keep reminding everyone?"

A hand firmly grabs Midorima's shoulder and gently moves him aside, revealing Takao, who's beaming at you and pointing at himself. "I helped pick it out—and paid for it," he says, his voice trailing off into a mumble as he side-eyes Midorima.

Then, he resumes with an upbeat tone, "Midorima was going to get you something ugly. I thought it should be something cute for someone as cute as you, yeah?"

His words and the meticulous attention he and even Midorima, who isn't known for caring about others to this extent, had put into their actions make your face flush withwarmth.

"Thanks, to both of you. I really appreciate it," you exclaim while cradling the gift. "You're both so thoughtful. But honestly, my fall wasn't bad luck; it was my own fault, and it's a bit embarrassing so I’m not saying why," you add quickly, cutting off the boys who were about to ask for details.

"I could have found you a better one of those, you know," One of them asserts, capturing everyone's attention and sparking a playful debate about who could give the best plushy.

A few minutes into it, your mind begins to wander, and your gaze fixates on Takao. His words continue to echo in your head as you observe his interactions with the others.

Could ‘something cute for someone cute' mean something deeper?’ you wonder, but you're careful not to let your thoughts run too far ahead. You're hesitant to go down that path once more with another crush.

While you're lost in thought, trying to talk yourself down from your inner turmoil to prevent spoiling the wholesome moment for everyone, you fail to notice Takao turning towards you because he's noticed your sudden silence.

He blinks owlishly when he notices you're already looking at him, even though you don't appear entirely present. A smile etches onto his face as he finds your absentminded expression cute.

The moment you do notice him, a wave of panic washes over you, leaving your mouth dry and your face flushed with heat that extends to the rest of your body. Your gaze quickly shifts to the heart monitor beside you as its beeping starts to intensify, adding to the embarrassment of being caught staring.

The sound grabs the attention of those around you, prompting concern and a touch of panic. Questions like, "What's happening? (Surname)-chan, are you okay?" are rapidly fired your way. Among the group of players, Takao's smile persists and even grows as the scene escalates when one of them suggests getting a nurse.

"No!" you blurt out, almost wishing the bed could swallow you up, leaving you to wither away. "I'm fine. There's no need for that."

"But your heart rate is—"

You cut them off, saying, "It's normal. I'm not dying." They should drop it, for your sake and your pride.

Takao looks smug now, mischief dancing in his eyes as he takes your words and uses them against you. "She's not dying; she just feels like it right now, isn't that right, (Surname)-chan?" he teases.

You avert your gaze, attempting to conceal your face as Midorima steps up and asks, "Are you being dramatic?" He arches an eyebrow, displaying his lack of amusement.

"My feelings aren't dramatic!" you argue, shooting him a glare, feeling deeply offended. It's the most irritating thing you've ever heard; your emotions deserve more validation than that.

Takao abruptly stops smiling, his mouth agape, "Feelings?!" A blush spreads across his face, "Feeling feelings?" He looks at you expectantly, and you can't bring yourself to meet his gaze, especially with everyone's attention now focused on you.

"What's happening..." one of the teammates asks, echoing the confusion of everyone else as they watch the scene unfold.

"What's going on?!" a masculine voice exclaims from behind the group, and you've never been so relieved to see a hospital staff member in your life. The nurse raises an eyebrow as he enters the room, stating firmly, "You all cannot be in here. Who gave permission for this?"

Half of the boys stand tongue-tied, and the other half fumble to come up with an excuse. They fail to provide a reasonable explanation, and the nurse sternly tells them to leave, ignoring their protests.

Takao stays behind, the last to leave. He takes a moment to approach you, covering his mouth with a hand as he says, "I'll text you... we should talk about ‘your feelings’ more." He ends with a snicker before finally leaving, being dragged away by the nurse. Midorima's scolding voice becomes audible as soon as they exit the room.

#✰ 𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐧𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐢𝐞 — 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 #✮⋆˙ 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 — 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐨 #kuroko no basket x reader #knb x reader #knb imagines #knb x you #kuroko no basket #the basketball which kuroko plays #kuroko no basketball #kurokos basketball #kuroko’s basketball #takao kazunari #kuroko no basuke

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yggdraseed · 21 days

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Reflecting on Ichigo vs. Grimmjow

This past week, we lost electricity and internet for a few days. In addition to engendering a much deeper appreciation for modern amenities in me, it led me to dust off a bunch of old Shonen Jump issues I bought at Kroger when I was a kid! Someday I'd like to collect a copy of every English monthly and weekly Shonen Jump anthology, but that's not the point of this post.

No, the point is that while thumbing through them, I encountered the last chapter of Ichigo's fight with Grimmjow, and I was struck by how much of the subtext and emotion I missed as a dumb teenager. That's not to say all teenagers are dumb, I don't think they are and I think the way that adults in general look down on and bully adolescents is stupid and wrong; I'm just saying I, myself, was a teenager once, and back then, I was dumb as hell.

Anywho, I remember really, really being struck by that flashback to when Grimmjow was still an Adjuchas and running with his pack that all eventually became his Numeros. When I was a teen, I don't think I had the mental framework to understand why, but now I do. The whole concept of the Arrancar is a hell of a lot more fascinating with all the things I've learned and opened myself up to since then, and looking with fresh eyes at this one chapter of Grimmjow and his interactions with his underlings and Ichigo was a real thrill.

It's interesting how, while Shinigami get stronger by cloaking themselves in Hollow powers, Hollows get stronger by becoming more like Shinigami. They tear off their masks, assume more-or-less human forms, and store their full Hollow form as zanpakuto for the renewal and empowerment of Resurrección. And I've started to reflect a lot on what monsters taking on humanoid form means for the story's themes.

When I look at the Espada, I see these once animalistic phantoms who exist only to consume and perpetuate their own existence who have now taken on human form and the very human search for meaning in some form. Yammy's a bad example of this like he is for fucking everything, but maybe the point is that he's such a big lug with so much power to throw around that he doesn't need to try to give his life meaning? But that's a reach.

Starting from Number 9 instead, we have Aaroniero, the only Gillian in the Espada. The Gillian are the first stage of Menos Granda, resulting from the hunger that defines all Hollows becoming so great that human souls no longer can satiate them, and so they cannibalize each other in a huge feeding frenzy that eventually produces a Gillian. As a result of smashing all these Hollow personalities together, they lose their individual identity, as seen with how Gillian all have the same appearance until they metamorphose into the next phase, an Adjuchas. When this happens, an individual identity asserts itself.

I don't believe that Adjuchas are actually representative of any one living human's former identity like non-Menos Hollow are. Rather, I think that an Adjuchas is a whole new identity that originates from that congealed mess of interfeeding and assimilation that produces a Gillian. Correct me if I'm wrong on this, but I don't think any of the Arrancar were once living humans, in that I think their experience as individuals begins at their emergence as Adjuchas.

Getting back to Aaroniero, he (they? it?) was probably just on the borderline between Gilian and Adjuchas. So you have this sort of very broad strokes, half-animal consciousness that's only starting to become self-aware again. Aaroniero only has a little more going on in his/their inner life than the primal desire all Hollows have to feed, and I think that bears out in how Aaroniero takes the identity of what's eaten and lives to eat. Aaroniero only has a little more than hunger, but is using that hunger as a basis for meaning and trying to create an identity by eating otthers and integrating them. Perhaps unfortunately, Aaroniero dies before completing self-actualization.

Szayel Aporro, the next rung on the ladder, is also defined by desire in a more broad sense. It's not only hunger, but also lust and more complicated forms of greed that drive him. He's a scientist, but in the sense that he's possessed of avarice for knowledge. And his Resurrección reflects a desire for power over others - over their bodies and over their fates. In that way, following his desires leads to meaning for him, to some sort of goal: acquiring knowledge and more complex, effective means to then acquire more knowledge and satisfy other desires.

Zommari is marked by fanatical love. Love is interesting in that it's simultaneously a desire and a virtue: to love someone or something is to desire them, but also to desire their wellbeing. It's a need to meet the needs of someone or something besides yourself. And yet, Zommari has this very immature, incomplete love: he makes all of these adulations towards love, but in the end, his Resurreción forces others to love him and serve him. He's unable to go outside of himself at this stage, but while he's beginning to see the big picture, it all still comes down to his own primal desire to have, to possess, even if not necessarily to consume.

I could keep going up the list, but I'm going to stop at Grimmjow for now because he's the one on my mind the most due to recency bias. He and his pack of Adjuchas ended up settling on a very different desire from any of the foregoing Arrancar: power. Not consumption, not possession, but growth and evolution. Obviously the latter is attained by and makes it easier to attain more of the former, but the point is that it's a very different relationship to the world and the self from what Aaroniero, Szayel Aporro, and Zommari have going on.

Grimmjow and his underlings have as their primary, guiding objective not to fill their stomachs or secure possessions, but to evolve further and realize their latent potential. This is no longer in the realm of meeting some primal need like hunger, security, or some other form of tangible, useful abundance. Self-improvement for its own sake is something very abstract and symbolic, something downright esoteric if you're only looking at biological utility. It's something almost unspeakably human, to do something not for the benefit of survival, but because you've decided it's meaningful.

That's Grimmjow and his pack. They've declared that strength has meaning even if it doesn't meet your needs and desires, and so they make sacrifices on the altar of strength. And it's why his subordinate Adjuchas are so distraught when they realize they can't go further. Strength is their meaning, their tether guiding them through the dark desert of existence, and now they've obtained all of it that they can. Not for lack of trying, but because they had a built-in limit. I think you could argue that wanting Grimmjow to eat them is partly a suicidal response to realizing they're at the end point of their chosen meaning and can't proceed further with it.

However, it's also fascinating that rather than just ending it themselves in some way, they all choose to offer themselves up to Grimmjow. They see him as the embodiment of strength and of the law of the jungle, the might makes right philosophy that gave their existence meaning and let them continue to try and live. And so they want to sacrifice themselves so that he can reach his full potential and go further beyond, to the frontiers of strength they know they can never reach. It's visceral, animalistic, and short-sighted, but you can't call it anything else than compassion. They choose to give up their needs and desires for the needs and desires of someone else.

And so when Grimmjow's always pushing himself to assert his pride and to get as strong as possible, to defeat anyone and everyone that he can, sure, it's his ego motivating him. However, it's also the fact that now, he's the one carrying the symbolic meaning of strength on his back for his Numeros. Getting stronger is no longer just his own meaning, but it's a responsibility he owes to his comrades who weren't able to get stronger with him. And that meaning keeps him moving forward on a collision force with greater challenges.

Like one Ichigo Kurosaki. When you look back at Ichigo's characterization in early Bleach, it starts to click why he makes this connection with Grimmjow. He sees himself in him - or maybe just a person he could have become if things went differently. Ichigo's kind of a punk who likes to fight and flex his muscles, but he became that way because his natural orange hair he inherited from his mom made him look like a delinquent and turned him into a lightning rod for conflict. Some people see a nail that sticks out and can't rest until they hammer it down, and Ichigo had to learn to fight and to enjoy fighting in order to protect himself and his self-respect. He could just do something as simple as dye his hair black, but then, that would be hiding something he inherited from his dead mother just to make life go a little smoother. It would be stepping on something important to himself just so he could take the easy way out.

Grimmjow is someone who finds meaning in conflict and strength for its own sake. Ichigo finds meaning in conflict and strength only to assert his own self-worth and, with time, to protect the friends who have gradually gathered around him. He's not just some punk slugging people for getting on his case over something as stupid as hair color, his strength represents a responsibility to the people he loves. And that element of strength as meaning, strength as a responsibility to others, ties him and Grimmjow to each other.

It's why Ichigo frustrates Grimmjow so much. He sees himself in Ichigo, but he also sees something not-himself. He sees someone who has pushed himself to get stronger, but someone who doesn't worship at the altar of strength like he does. Instead, he sees someone with this over-abundance of strength who doesn't assert it, doesn't make more sacrifices than necessary for it, but just uses it as a means to an end: that end being the safety of people he cares for.

This creates friction inside of Grimmjow because strength is his rock, his one singular meaning in a dark, barren, stupid world. For strength to just be the means to an end is hard to process. Yet in Ichigo, he starts to see what lies beyond strength for its own sake: a way that strength can form bonds and maintain them, act as the seedbed for new meanings without losing its meaning in itself.

When Ichigo pleads with Grimmjow, "We don't need to fight to the death. Isn't it enough for us to fight each other again and again?" It's him extending an olive branch. He doesn't want to see more death and destruction than necessary anymore, but he knows now that the world of Arrancar like Grimmjow is defined by those things. If he wants to end this conflict without killing an opponent he respects, then he has to meet Grimmjow in the middle. He has to make a commitment to get stronger and fight Grimmjow again, as many times as he wants, if it means Grimmjow will lay down his arms and stop trying to get to him through his friends.

Of course, Nnoitra has to show up and fuck it all up like he does most things he involves himself with. I've come to find Nnoitra an interesting character in his own right and might have more to say about him in the future, but for now, I'll say that I think the fact that Grimmjow ends up helping Ichigo and Co. during the final arc indicates he's accepted Ichigo's terms and is expanding his horizons beyond fighting and killing to grow and assert his strength and nothing else besides that.

He's definitely evolved his fashion sense. Did you see those boots? Faboo! To die for! Or, perhaps, to live for?

#bleach #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #ichigo kurosaki #tite kubo #bleach spoilers #existentialism #existentialism in my shonen manga yippee

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hh0320 · 2 years

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𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 “𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭?”

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭.

PART TWO.

pairing: bad boy!beomgyu x fem reader x yeonjun.

genre: polyamory, runaways, smut, strict parents, hurt/comfort, set in mid 00’s.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: profanity, mature themes, abuse, violence, alcohol consumption, jealousy, kiss between underage characters.

a/n: hi guys! this story will have two parts, a before and an after. originally, this was going to be something else, but when i started writing it, this whole other thing came out, and i mean who am i to stop it lol but pls give it a chance, i promise the wait for the second part will be well worth it! ty 🤍

You always knew your life wouldn’t be a small life.

In your little town, with the waterless river, and the train station with no trains—time didn’t exist there. You seemed to always remain that ten year old girl, that had run away from home. The one that got lost in the forest for three days, and came out someone else.

Summer would always be for them. The ones that found you—your boys. Filthy, bruised, scrawny boys with scratched up knees, and wide smiles. The brothers that shared no name. When the police saw you emerging from the woods close to the highway, they immediately took them away, and wrapped you in pastel blankets.

You had screamed then, cried and begged. Your mother was devastated, taking in your shocking state, unable to shake the feeling that her daughter had died. The you that stood there was a different beast.

And it belonged to them. The ones being led into the police vehicle, the ones that had been staring at you the whole time with serious eyes—eyes that spoke of your time in the trees, eyes that had promised to take you away one day.

No one ever spoke a word about those three days. Your mother had tried psychiatrist, after psychiatrist, but to no avail. Your mouth was zipped. Middle school passed by in a blur, your mind occupied completely with the thoughts of bright greens, and blackberry bushes.

You didn’t see them again until your first day of high school. They had been older than you, already in their fourth year. Rumors about them being in a cult ran rampage—others said they were drug dealers for the local gang. So many stories, told like fairytales; your boys were infamous characters, with many adventures.

Adventures—you knew of one. A girl, lying in mud, scared and teary eyed, saved by two knights that fed her berries, and played castle with her. There had been kisses, soft and stolen, but you’d rather not think of those. You understood none of it—not how you felt, or what you did.

You had been alone before. Never again after meeting them.

You learn their names through whispers of girls with nothing better to do than giggle about teenage boys. You’ve never giggled in your life. Your father was made of the blackest nightmares, you carried your mothers stinging hand with you everywhere.

Being lost hadn’t been nearly as bad as living in your house. Sometimes you wonder what is the point of any of it—the roof over your head, the dinner time. The pretending, and the beaten into silence.

You always knew your life wouldn’t be a small life.

Beomgyu, you write on your window sill one night. Yeonjun.

Your echoes.

They had noticed you, of course.

You looked the exact same, but taller. Hair always covering your face, walking along corners, careful not to alert anyone of your existence. Quiet as still water, sky with no wind.

Yeonjun had wanted to go to you, an utmost force pulling him towards you. He had wanted to apologize, to explain their disappearance, words ready to spill out, eyes to meet yours, see the softness, the clearness of them. No judgement, no bashing.

A clean slate—his second chance. He’d never stopped thinking about you once. His mind was already running—Beomgyu halted him, hand on shoulder.

“She’ll come to us.” A look between brothers.

An understanding deeper than shared blood—a pact.

For the next weeks, both boys had become your shadow, though you had no idea. You’d tried to carry on with living life as it was, dark and desolate. As far as you knew, the knights had forgotten you, or did not care anymore, and that realization had hit you like a ton of bricks. Your castle in the forest had crumbled.

You had to find your own escape now. Beomgyu had felt the change in you—he’d followed you to your house every night, had seen the deep sigh, the shut of your eyes, before you turned the key, opened the door.

He had pictured, since that day your mother had hugged you, muddy and fighting against her, that you had loving parents, a big house with a white fence, and a dog that had been in the family since before you were born. Perhaps a sibling. He had held onto that make believe fantasy throughout the years, behind walls, convincing Yeonjun along with himself.

He had wanted to believe that, because he brought you back. He had taken your hand, leading you out, believing that was the right thing, because you had been so kind to them. A girl as kind as you had to come from a good family, a family that loved you very much.

If that had not been true, the guilt would be unbearable. He had only given you up, because your words were a warmth he’d never felt. Because those three days had meant everything to him and his brother; they had been boys that knew nothing but blood, and misery. Boys that had travelled a long road, nothing to their name, exhausted and starved.

In a way, you had guided them out of that forest, too.

Beomgyu spent entire nights in his car, parked across from your place, watching, observing. Your bedroom was the one on the far left, and the light turned off around two am—what he assumed to be the other bedroom, your parents’, went dark earlier, the entire neighborhood under a thick blanket of silence.

That’s how, one night, he came to see your father slapping you across the face. It happened downstairs, by the big window, shadows moving fervently behind the curtains, and then suddenly—the smack. He recognized it clear as day, recalled it in all his memories.

He had left you to the wolves. Yeonjun had been right all along—no girl willingly stays gone, no girl begs stranger boys to play with her, bruises covering her body, dried tears staining her cheeks.

You disappeared from view, and the two figures went after you. Beomgyu was on the edge of his seat, hand on the door handle, ready, phone speed dialing Yeonjun.

“What happened?”

“That son of a bitch—her fucking father. He abuses her.”

Pregnant pause, static. “Fuck—fuck! I’m on my way, go. Fuck, Beom, I fucking told you, goddamnit—I’m on my way.”

Beomgyu went. He knew he could get arrested for trespassing, thrown back into juvie for what he was about to do, but this was you. This was about you; the kind, pretty girl that’s bled through his entire life. The one he played knight for—the one that showed him there’s love somewhere in him, despite the holes, and rot—despite the weeds, and storms.

The one that held you when you cried yourself dry, begging for them to take you with them, wherever they went, whatever they were.

“I’m done, I’m done—” You came rushing out, hands flailing about you, face contorted in hurt, a big red mark on your cheek.

Oh, hell no.

“Hey!” He called out, running towards you.

You turned to his voice, eyes widening, recognizing. Your father appeared after you, arm extended, grabbing you by the hair, forcing you back. You screamed, and almost tripped, trying to get away.

“Let her go!”

Beomgyu was not proud of who he was; he had a very erratic personality, always did did did without thinking, which nine times out of ten cost him big time. He blamed it on his childhood, and possibly his genes— his father had been a raging alcoholic, abusive to his mother, angry at the world, and his mom—his mom was an airhead, a good for nothing whore. Together, they made him—years of abuse, and neglect, until finally he found Yeonjun, and even then that gaping hole he had been born with, never filled, never closed.

Sometimes Beomgyu made bad decisions. This was one of them.

“Who the fuck are you, boy?” Your father dragged you in the house, eyes red, an animal waiting to pounce.

He knew this person well. This was his dad, and Yeonjun’s dad, and every other good for nothing piece of shit, that abused their children. They all had the same face, and they all deserved to die most painful deaths.

“None of your fucking business, old man.” His fist flew, no second thought, landing on your father’s jaw.

The man groaned and almost fell back, but quickly regained his balance, and grabbed Beomgyu by his shirt. The young boy knew what came after that, had lived it a thousand times, so he smiled a bright smile. A manic smile.

“Who the fuck,” punch “do you think,” kick “you are, you little punk?!”

Blood shot in his mouth, back raw against the pebbled driveway; he took all your dad had to give, all his anger, all the filth, so you didn’t have to. So you’d be safe, at least for tonight.

“Dad, no, get off him!” A flicker of your hair from his peripheral vision.

He wanted to call out to you, wanted to tell you it’s okay, he’s here now, he’ll be there from now on, always—but his head got smashed against the concrete, and it was getting hard to focus.

Police sirens went off in the distance, and tires screeched. Yeonjun couldn’t run fast enough. It was all happening in slow motion it seemed—your mom trying to take your dad off Beomgyu but getting pushed away, you, sobbing, grabbing on the old man’s shirt, pulling, ripping—neighbors coming out of their houses, curious, shocked to see the scene playing out—after all you had been such a quiet household—Beomgyu refusing to fight back, in fear of hurting you.

A fuming Yeonjun, tearing your dad off his brother, throwing him across the lawn, panting, seeing red.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch her again, you fucking prick. Be glad your daughter is in front of you. If we ever see you again, you’re fucking dead, you hear me? Mark my words, old man.”

He picked up his brother from the ground, bloody and half unconscious, and supported his weight, walking him to the car, sprawling him across the back seat. The sirens appeared closer then.

They had to leave.

You never moved from your place, too shocked, too drained to react to any of it. It had gone so wrong—the one time you managed to retaliate, to run, and even then, unsuccessful, fucked beyond imagination.

And your knights—back, ready to defend. Real, and coming to the rescue. They didn’t forget about you, they came. Nothing had ever mattered as much as this. This was everything.

“We’ll come for you,” Yeonjun promised you, that night, a hand stretched out to you, pulling you up and on him.

A cool kiss against your forehead, your mother’s mouth hanging open, a sizzling anger taking over her features.

“I swear to you, we’ll take you from here.”

“I knew it was you!” Your mother yelled, as one of the neighbors held her back. “Bring me back my daughter! Take this monster with you! She is not my flesh and blood…”

A panic attack wrapped around the woman, squeezing out tears and hysteria. Yeonjun watched as every word coming out stabbed you in the chest, hit you in the gut.

He knew they’d made the wrong choice taking you back, all those years ago. He felt it, like he felt that gravitational pull the day he saw you again. They were important, because they would be the ones to take you away from all this.

But you were too young, and they were about to get arrested again. Yeonjun eased the death grip he had on your hand—your haunted look was killing him, but he would be no help behind bars.

“I’d rather cut my hand off than leave you behind again.”

He was gone, as the police cars circled around your house.

For the next two years, everyone would talk about the incident. It had spread like wildfire, and soon your parents boarded themselves up in that house, forcing you to do the same thing.

You were only to go to school, and come straight back. And school had been Hell on earth—the teachers looked at you with such pity, the secret finally out—poor (Y/N), who could’ve known—but the reality is, they could’ve. They could’ve stopped it, if they had cared a little more. Your classmates avoided you like the plague, but that had always been fine with you. No questions to deal with, no mocking, no false pretenses.

They’d vanished overnight, it’d seemed. Seasons came and went, birthdays with no candles, one endless stream of black and white; you thought you’d lost your mind. Everything appeared to you dull, lifeless. You cared for nothing—even the fighting stopped. No more bruises to blame everything to, no more of anything. Nothing.

It was as if you had buried yourself alive. Your parents acted as if you weren’t there, and day by day, you started believing it—your body had turned into a ghost body. Words never bubbled inside you anymore, you had no desire to speak to anyone.

You counted down the days until they’d come. Sophomore, junior year. You were doing the haunting, you were playing into the horror of semi existing, because one day none of it would matter. You’d be far away from there, with your knights, and the world would regain its color, the sun would shine again.

You’d be aloud to break the muteness, veil lifted, lungs properly used.

But summer of your last year rolled around, and there had still been no word, no sight of them anywhere. You understood—they were already nineteen, and you were still a minor. You’d seen the fear in Yeonjun’s eyes, when the sirens neared.

Any day now, you wrote on that same window sill.

That day didn’t come until after graduation.

Late in the evening of your eighteenth birthday, a black car was parked in front of your school. It was a vintage model, something from an 80’s murder mystery movie.

Standing in front of it, in your gown, you saw them. Both there, real, smiling at you through the windshield.

They had come. They had come. Finally—finally you’d be free.

Running wasn’t fast enough. You stopped next to the passenger window, Beomgyu watching your every move. His hair was longer, darker. Real.

“How was the party?” Yeonjun asked from the drivers seat, tilting his head to meet your eyes.

Your cheeks were wet, heart elated. You entered the car with no hesitation, jumping in the front, limbs awkward, skinning your knee on the way. Your arms wrapped around Beomgyu, his own squeezing you tight against him.

“Boring,” you replied, voice muffled, pressed against his neck. “What took you so long?”

“We’re here now,” Yeonjun said, starting the car. “You’re with us now.”

They helped you through the back of your house, and you sneaked into your room, packing a small bag with a couple things. You didn’t need much, if anything at all. You just needed to get the hell away from there, that small life, that torture house. Going down the window, you noticed the way Yeonjun stared at you—with those serious eyes, like all those years ago, in the forest.

This would be it. You’d follow them anywhere now. You didn’t look back once.

Your parents never searched for you. It would be useless, anyway—you weren’t theirs anymore, not since the woods.

You belonged to them, now. And they’d take care of you with their lives, knights sworn to no one but you.

#yeonjun scenarios #beomgyu scenarios #txt scenarios #txt #ficscafe #tomorrow by together #tomorrow by together scenarios #yeonjun smut #beomgyu smut #txt smut #kpop scenarios #mine.

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novemberhope · 3 days

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💋🍊📀🌀🌸 for Neri!!

Thank you so much for the questions!!!

💋 How affectionate are they with their friends? Their family? Their romantic partner(s) (if they have any)? Are they more physical or emotional when it comes to displaying their affection? Why?

Neri is very affectionate. She's lost her family, so her friends are literally her family now and she's always willing to give someone a hug, she smiles at them a lot, is always super exited to see them if they have been separated for a while. She is a geniunely nice and caring person and everyone on the crew likes her and are happy to share hugs and cuddles with her. Now, when it comes to Zoro, he's not an overly emotional person to begin with, so it's mostly Neri who initiates the hug or the hand-holding or cuddling (he usually only initiates it when it's just the two of them). It's just something that comes naturally to her. It also might have something to do her having lost her whole family, so it's kind of her way to show to her friends what they mean to her and that she's happy to be with them.

🍑 Where is your OC’s favourite place to relax or calm down? Recount a story of their time spent in this place! What makes it so special to them?

She's a mermaid so I'd have to say the ocean. It's where she feels completely at home, whether she's just drifting along with her eyes closed or diving down deeper and deeper. She does provide the crew with a good amount of seafood which is a good excuse for her to go into the ocean and sometimes it takes a while for her to resurface simply because she lost track of time and was enjoying herself in the water so much.

📀 How easy is it to shock your OC? To confuse them? To lie to them, to manipulate them? How are they with feelings of trust? Can your OC be trusted?

When the strawhats met Neri, she had just lost her whole family to the cruelty of humans and barely escaped herself. It took her a long while to fully trust them but now, she trusts them completely. Over time, she started trusting other people more as well after having spend some time with the humans and having learned that not all of them are bad. Still, she's always a bit wary when meeting new people. In the beginning, when she was completely new to the human world, it was quite easy to shock or confuse her and, due to her lack of knowledge in so many areas, it was also easy to lie to her and manipulate her. This has changed a bit over time since she has since gained more knowledge and experience. She herself can absolutely be trusted.

🌀 Where is your OC from? Where were they born? Do they still live there, if not why did they move? If they still live in the area how has it changed since their childhood? How many places has your OC lived in and where has been their favourite?

Neri is actually not from Fishman Island as many would assume. Her group of merpeople has lived in the East Blue for a very long time but remained hidden and had little to no contact to humans until the fateful day where they were discovered and captured. Neri is the only survivor of this, having escaped by chance and having met Luffy, Zoro and Nami. Since then, she's been with the Strawhats and while the ocean will always be her favorite place due to her being a mermaid, the Thousand Sunny is her home now. She's spend the timeskip on Fishman Island but declined the offer to stay there and went with the Strawhats into the New World. They've been to many islands, starting all the way back in the East Blue, then the first part of the Grandline, then in the New World... I guess since they're traveling the ocean, you could still say her home is the ocean. (And home is where the heart is, so it's with the crew)

🌸 What does your OC’s voice sound like? Their laugh? Are they good at singing? Do they have an accent? Her voice is pleasant, soft and melodic and her laughter is quite cheerful and contagious. She possesses the beautiful singing voice of many mermaids and can even use it to incapacitate men. She doesn't have an accent but sometimes might pronounce words she's never heard before (since she still doesn't know everything in the human world) in a funny way.

I loved answering these, thank you so much! Source: Ask game

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alexanderlightweight · 1 year

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I loved the Chronic Pain!Alec story! Could I request Deaf!Alec and specifically his challenges?

Hey so first, if anyone is deaf/HOH and would like to correct anything please feel free to let me know. This fic did not have a sensitivity reader (though if anyone volunteers I’d welcome but also i do not expect it)

i hope you enjoy anon ty for the prompt!

Alec shivers as his awareness rune is activated, the sensitivity a familiar rush that envelopes him. It means any injuries he’ll get he’ll feel tenfold, but it’s worth it. Alec can feel the currents of the wind, the sensation of a demons form crawling from the shadows and the shaking of the earth where they step.

What he can’t hear will be made up for and demons are nearly silent anyways. Alec never really understood why everyone thinks his success is shocking when half of his enemies don’t even make noise until after they’re attacking.

Everyone thinks Alec should be at a disadvantage but he doesn’t think he is. For every mission he’s given, it’s completed perfectly. He’s the most highly decorated solo hunting specialist to ever be seen and Alec knows the clave hates him. They hate what he’s proving, that shadowhunters with what the clave considers limits — who are normally hidden away in Idris — are just as if not more capable, than what the clave considers their perfect specimens.

Alec was supposed to have a team but there is only so much he can do when his siblings won’t listen to him. Which is ridiculous, considering Alec is the one who can’t hear. However he can read lips and while the amount of permanent runes that Alec bears is more than most can handle and more obscure than usually allowed, Alec wants what he wants. It was ridiculous that his siblings expected him to still cater to their insubordination and willfulness when they knew how much was at stake for him. So Alec had submitted a request to become a solo hunter and shipped his protesting siblings to Idris where his parents had gone once he’d turned sixteen.

After all, it’s not his fault that Valentine experimented on him as a child and his hearing was taken as a result. If anything, it’s his parents and Alec makes sure that they know it, every time they try to shame him or push him down. Alec looks at them and he smirks, because Alec lost his hearing before his parents took him and ran but Alec didn’t lose his voice.

Though not for a lack of Valentine trying.

“Was it the screaming?” He asks his mother one day when she's speaking so fast he can barely read her lips, interrupting her and rolling the words over his tongue, feeling the reverberations of his own throat as he works out where to let the sounds linger. Talking is a necessity when one is a commander, even if Alec only ever leads teams from behind a screen with another on the comes, interpreting for him.

“What?” Alec sees her lips say, because she’ll never lower herself to using mundane sign language, no matter how beneficial it’s turned out to be for shadowhunting teams as a whole and not just Alec. They have a rune that lets them see in the dark, being able to communicate silently is a boon, not that his mother will admit it.

“The screaming. Was it the screaming that made you run? To flee Valentine? I remember it, I remember you held me down at first and then he promised to make it all better and father held me down instead.” Maryse is staring at him in horrified realization and Alec smiles, because his memory of it goes deeper than Maryse’s walls do. “I think you were crying. I wanted you to call me baby and hold my hand and tell me I’d be okay, that you’d protect me. You didn’t though, you’d stopped comforting me already, I remember that. Instead it was ‘Valentine please’ and I never heard your voice again.”

Maryse is shaking and Alec grins meanly, teeth sharp because if she’d ever once been sorry he would have accepted it but it’s too late now. “Was that all? I have an Institute to run.” He brushes past her, deliberately turning his back in a way that makes the conversation over. Maryse will have to grab him to stop him and she won’t, because Alec won’t let her.

— “Mirai!” he calls, because while he’s never sure how loud he’s being, his second is normally close enough or someone is close enough to let her know. A few minutes later she’s there, a large tablet and a file in her hand and she’s shaking her head as she follows him to his office.

He signs out, ‘meeting now. Reports first. Demon sighting new’, and Mirai sighs and keeps her head turned to him so he can read her lips as she looks at her tablet.

“Very well Commander, I’ll see that the weapons room is restocked before any teams are sent out. Apparently the ichor cleaning team is backlogged again.”

‘Idiots gone?’

“Indeed. It seems we’ve finally culled the herd enough that we are lacking in imbeciles who act before they think.”

And Alec keeps his laugh silent because his joy is rare and sacred to himself, and instead he just smirks meanly.

‘Good. Weapons priority anyone off.’

Mirai nods and puts down her tablet to respond, ‘confirmed’ and then she leaves and Alec stares at his desk overflowing with so any missives that he’s tempted to set them on fire. Instead he reaches for the first one and grins. The High Warlock of Brooklyn is finally responding to his request and Alec is hoping that if there are wards he can add to his Institute so that he doesn’t have to have his runes as active as he does. He manages, but it’s exhausting and it does wear on him over time.

So it’s with an unfamiliar flicker of hope that Alec eagerly sends over an answer and he wants this to work, but he makes himself focus on his other work and then, two hours later and message with the same elegant scrawl of the first reply flashes into place.

Alec reads it with a growing grin before tapping out a message on his tablet. Mirai will take care of everything for him and he knows that all of his people will ensure that High Warlock Bane has the best experience in an Institute he’s ever had in his life.

Though, considering how the clave feels about anything they consider different, Alec doubts the bar is very high. Which is fine, Alec is perfectly happy kicking it off the ground and shattering the celling of the claves idiotic prejudices with it.

#writing wednesday #writing wednesdays #lumine writes #shadowhunters #shadowhunters au #my fics #my fanfics #my ficlets

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morganaas · 11 months

Text

A Jacopo Bearzatti analysis

Analysis that inspired me to write, Please read them

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The story of Jacopo is that of a man that wagers everything on his ambitions, he seeks the strength to protect the ones he loves but it’s that very strength that ends up destroying himself and everyone around him.

The question of why Jacopo loves Morgana so much that he would do anything to protect her lies in a Requiem for innocence.

In the festival as Jacopo recalls the events of his childhood in the slums to Morgana we see a connection form between the two. Since they were children both Jacopo and Morgana were forced to experience the cruelty of the world far too early.

Morgana at the cruel hands of Lord barnier, and Jacopo in the slums forced to survive day to day in a place riddled with crime and murder. Jacopo even as a child could not keep his hands clean, he admits to Morgana "

I bet I'm completely irredeemable in your eyes. I've stolen, lied, deceived, and even killed people...

"Even as a child, my hands were not free from blood."

Jacopo is a man who had been corrupted by the world, and the one thing keeping him tied to the world, from descending deeper into hell was Morgana. Jacopo's love for Morgana is is what defines him. And what defines his love is not physical, but a romantic platonic love of Morgana.

Jacopo's reason for loving Morgana initially is unknown, but with the white haired girl(The manifestation of Morgana's innocence) we can piece together that Jacopo's love initially comes from him seeing the innocence he once had in Morgana. But through the time he spends with Morgana at the brothel he came to love the girl Morgana and understand his own feelings. A lot of this is shown to us through the short story A Slice of Sweet Serenity in times long lost I and II, this short story tells the tale of Morgana and Jacopo, and how their romance forms.

A story lies in the title" A Requiem for Innocence", a Requiem is defined as a dirge for the dead, meaning a solemn chant for the death of innocence. Requiem for innocence begins with the piece Mozart's Requiem in D-Minor Sequence VI Lacrimosa (A famous dirge lamenting the day of Judgement about forgiveness) as it shows Morgana suffering at the hands of barnier. Innocence is associated with Morgana and it later materializes as the white haired girl.

The story of Requiem is just as much the tragic tale of Jacopo as it is a tale of Morgana losing her innocence and becoming the witch we love.

Jacopo in playing the role of the lord denies his own feelings, and buries them all, condemning himself to the fate of the lord.

And putting the nail in Morgana’s coffin, up until his final moments Jacopo kept up the facade of lord Barnier so much that he accepts the sins of the Lord, and becomes the object of Morgana’s hatred.

“ You’re the cruelest man in the whole world "

With the line “ I killed the young man “ He denies the possibility of becoming that young man, going as far as to say the young man he once was is no longer alive, killed at the hands of Lord Barnier.

Jacopo however doesn’t have the strength to just forget the pleasant memories he had with Morgana. Nor does he have the strength to tell Morgana he is the slave boy. In a moment of vulnerability Jacopo tells Morgana who is oblivious his grievances, about the love he had for her, and the regrets he has.

When Jacopo chooses to bear the sins of Barnier along with his own, this tragedy lies in the fact that Jacopo was Morgana’s one source of happiness in her life.

Jacopo the source of all Morgana’s joy in life is also the cruel man who destroyed everything she loved, the Brothel, the slave man, her very life and joy was taken by him.

“Not only did I fail to protect anything, I destroyed the one thing I cared about most with my own two hands. That’s all I ever managed to do. This isn’t the world I wanted to show you at all. I of all people should have done everything in my power to ensure those good days never ended.”

“For as long as I’ve had the throne, a part of my wanted to say, “I’m done. I have no need of this anymore” But every time the thought rose to my mind it was pushed back down by a refrain of, “So you’d led all that work go to waste? Everything you sacrificed to get here? In reality it wasn’t pride or a desire to hold onto my power that stopped me from doing this sooner. But the fear that everything I had worked so hard for would be for naught.

But now that I saw death looming over her…

It was clear that only greater, more crushing despair awaited me.

It would break me utterly and I would end up abusing my people even worse than Barnier had.”

Upon Jacopo’s death Jacopo’s forced to face the blood on his hands, the death of all those he cared about, and even the death of Morgana. He sees that all his efforts were utterly meaningless. As he finds himself dying alone he thinks back on those simple days of joy and remembers what Morgana said do him that day

“I don’t want to see the world. All I want…

Is to

find our home..”

Jacopo’s final thoughts are

“I never needed to reign supreme. I never needed to favor the masses. All I needed to do was go looking for that little pocket of tranquility.“

Jacopo dreams of a different world upon his death, a world where he chose Morgana, a world where an ordinary boy and an ordinary girl journey to find their home. In other words Fragments

“

This is what I could have had if I’d made the right choices.. What I wanted… more than anything in the world.

“

Jacopo's soul lives through the events of the third door, and the thousand years in the decrepit mansion, never truly forgetting the pain he caused the girl Morgana, nor the sins of his life. Jacopo sees himself as irredeemable, and has resigned himself to his curse.

With these desires burned into his soul, Jacopo exists solely to atone for what he’s done to Morgana, even accepting the curse she has placed on him. Prepared to spend eternity in the mansion if Morgana wishes it.

With the events of requiem we know how deep the bond between Morgana and Jacopo is.

In door 3 Jacopo is reconstructed( body and soul reincarnated) without memory of his past life into a new life cursed to end in tragedy. Jacopo's tale is a tragic one with many references to the Shakespeare tragedy Othello.

Jacopo plays the role of Othello, an immigrant who rose up in society because of his ambitions, and the weight put on him by his father and country. The white haired girl plays the role of Desdemona as she is virtuous to a fault, a women of unfaltering Christian values.

Maria will play the role of Iago, Othello's companion who he trusts, but ultimately the one to betray Othello and bring about his demise.

Our story begins with a similar tragedy, Jacopo in pursuit of his ambitions neglects his wife the white haired girl for a reason unknown to us. At first we are lead to believe Jacopo is naturally cruel man, but the story soon shows us the reasons for Jacopo's actions. It is revealed to us that rumors of the white haired girl being unfaithful are in circulation from the machinations of Maria, the Iago in our story.

Jacopo is deceived into believing the white haired girl has been unfaithful, by Maria manipulating the letters of hers directed at Jacopo to be to other men.

This feign of deception culminates into Jacopo Imprisoning the white haired girl in order to protect his image. Instead of talking to the white haired girl and facing the truth of the situation, he choose to ignore it and to accept the lie that Maria told. In this life and the last, communication and ambition lead to his fall. It is only at the ending that Jacopo realizes Maria's deception, and the innocence of the white haired girl.

This is when the ending of Othello and the ending of door 3 differ, in the Shakespeare play Othello kills Desdemona and himself in a rage of jealously oblivious to the truth. In door 3 Jacopo is made to live alone in constant search of the white haired girl who disappeared the day earlier, with only a note of her love to remember her by. It is only in losing the things he loves most that he recognizes the value they hold.

Jacopo grows old surrounded by wealth but constantly thinking back to the day the white haired girl left in regret. As many decades past Jacopo thinks to himself "Was Michelle really her name ?" His soul never forgetting Morgana, and connecting Morgana to the white haired girl. White haired girl is the manifestation of Morgana's innocence and saintliness lost in requiem, and the innocence that Jacopo first noticed in Morgana.

Dive into Lost I and the nature of the Soul in Fata Morgana

The Cursed Mansion is a desolate place, where sorrow and misfortune gather in the form of decrepit darkness. All darkness in the mansion is a result of past tragedy and deep regrets, originating from the death and curse of Morgana. The watchtower in the mansion illustrates this since the place of the greatest tragedies and the darkest place in the mansion through all eras.

Jacopo and Giselle in I. Lost feel sorrowful as they climb the tower, since their souls experienced great tragedy from that tower. Jacopo could never forget what he did to Morgana, and Giselle could never forget her memories of happiness with Michel. When both ascend the tower they’re struck by the frail sunlight entering the desolate tower. The tower is a place with one opening , which light pierces through, this could be a reminder that salvation will never come, or this could be a symbol of hope that salvation will come. Light in Fata Morgana is associated with fond memories of the past & hope.

FROM I. LOST

"But bathed in the glow of the moon, her hand stretched out to take his--before she realized what happened.

They had both lost those they cared about most. And when their fingers touched- He saw a bright, spirited young woman with an infectious smile. And she saw a kindhearted and sometimes sarcastic young man.

Giselle and the slave, vestiges of their long-forgotten selves, bursting forth for the tiniest, most insignificant of moments.

"Michel, to tell you the truth, I wanted nothing more than to descend these stairs with you, hand in hand.

"Morgana, to tell you the truth, I wanted nothing more than to go back to those days when I could still take your hand.

By the time the head maid had made it across the collapsed stairs, the shadows of their old selves had disappeared without a trace.

Only the maid who always wore a smile and the forlorn businessman remained there in the tower. A faint connection had formed between them, though -a shared solation and emptiness. An empathy, as similarly damaged souls. But that too would fade in time, their connection as fleeting as an autumn night. "

'The sun's light even reaches this deep, dark corner of the world. I mean, of course it does, but.…. I dunno, for some reason, it seems particularly bright today”

Next will be the topic of fragments, and what this moment is for Jacopo and Morgana.

#the house in fata morgana #fatamoru #ファタモルガーナの館

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yanderefairyangel · 4 months

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"胸が"

It's the birthday of my favorite tsundere dragon so it's maybe time I'll dive into something. One pattern very important when it comes to Rafal : his chest

So let's take a look at his design shall we ?

Rafal wears Nel's dragonstone on his chest however, once it's broken, this how his outfit looks like

Rafal bears on his chest and on his arms the symbol of the Fell dragon, an eye. Sombron posseses a third eye. In Buddhism, this is a symbol of awakening and Sombron is reaching his own awakening in chapter 21 when he accesses his Great Fell dragon form. This bit will be important later on.

Rafal is wearing on his chest his father's eye. However, he is also wearing Nel's dragonstone.

Nel originally gave it to Nil as a proof of their bond but when Nil died, he gave it to Rafal when begging him to replace him by Nel's side to spare Nel's the loss of having lost her twin.

Now, let's dive deeper into this.

If you recall, we learn from Rafal that he lost his twin, his "other half"/片割れ. When Nel speaks with Rafal in chapter 6, Rafal admits to have always felt alone and "empty". Having lost his other half, a part of himself, Rafal felt empty, incomplete. This is what we are told of the fell children : they are destined to be born as twins, they are two halves of a whole and one of the half is destined to die in a way or another. Hence each of them is lead to feel incomplete, much like how MG Sombron expressed himself to be without 0 Emblem. Besides, the theme of being "incomplete" is also recurent in the main story like when in chapter 18 Sombron speaks of making "Veyle" complete or the symbolism in Alear's hair. But Rafal had to go through something that none of his other siblings experienced. He didn't lost his other half once, but twice. First, his own twin sibling whom he cannot remember and seemed to be blaming himself for not recalling their face.

And the second is Nil.

"For me, who had lost a twin/half.... Nil was my other half"

As I developped more in that post, 片割れ means fragment, other half and in the case of a pair of twins, it's refering to one of the twins and in the Fell Xenologue, it's only used in the context of meaning twins. But when Nel and Rafal refers to Nil explicetely as meaning "my other half" rather my twin, they will use the word 半身/hanshin, my half which is the same expression Chrom uses when he calls Robin "his other half". In other words, Rafal had finally find someone to "complete" him again. And he ended up losing him and had instead to put up with a pressure.

The Fell dragon in this world are all subjected to the pressure of not being labeled as a failure. However, Rafal was dealing with two pressure : the one created by Sombron and the one created by Nil.

Rafal's behaviour in the Xenologue, his "possesion" by Sombron is something I read as heavy metaphorical rather then taking it strictly as literal. Yes, literaly Rafal was under the influence of a spell. But metaphorically, he was under Sombron's influence because of the abuse he received. And the fact that he is wearing Sombron's eyes is showing how Rafal still feels Sombron's gaze upon him. "gaze" as in both being observed and judged since it's Sombron's judgement that the Fell children fears more then anything : being a failure equates to being dead. Besides, the Fell Xenologue showed us that in this world, this Sombron is being much more of a discrete observator

He always shows up from a corner and is always depicted from in the shadow. In fact, to distinguish him from our Sombron, this Sombron's face is never shown, like for the other Alear, which reinforces this feeling of discretion. This Sombron is aware of everything, of the Dragon shard, of Rafal impersonating Nil, he is much more of an omniscient being in that world compared to his main game counterpart.

This constant feeling of being observes by his abuser, even dead, that Rafal feels is manifesting through the "spell" and is what is pushing him to commit atrocities that still makes him disgusted at himself, in a hope to prove himself to someone, to be acknolwedged by someone, to be seen. And by seen, I mean seen as who he truly is. That is to say, not a failure/出来損ない.

Rafal wearing Sombron's eye on his chest is representative of that mindset, all the more so when in chapter 6, he screams that Sombron "touched his chest", the part where he wears his eye and ... the dragonstone.

Like I said, Rafal had to endure losing 2 halves instead of one, but he spared Nel the pain that he felt for all those years by replacing Nil and empathizing so much with Nil that he came to shares Nil's wishes and to live so that Nil could "live" as well, in a way. Nel herself state that had Rafal not being here, she might have drowned into despair and Nil knew that himself. He knew that his sister might be strong, but while she is physically stronger, she is mentally fragile. Nil's death would have broken her would she had remained alone

"When I found Nil dying on the battlefield, he gave me his dragonstone and asked me to take care of his sister. "If I die here, my sister will be sad." He didn't wanted to cause his beloved sister to be sad to have lost her twin/other half"

But by doing this, Nil's request to Rafal actually condemned him to "die" in his stead, as Rafal said about making believe that he was the one who died and that he was in a way "dead". A person's idendity isn't their appearance, it's their name and personality, it's their history, the Xenologue made it clear that it was the game's stance with how the 4 Winds are indeed different person from their alter ego, no matter how much they look like them. Rafal too, but whereas in the support it was shown that Alear, Madeline, Gregory and Zelestia couldn't handle the gaze of the people around them not "seeing" them but seeing someone else for a few moments, Rafal had to deal with this for 1 000 years. 1000 years of being "someone else" in the eyes of others, of never being himself, of never feeling seen. He himself stated that he was unnoticed among his many siblings despite lacking a twin, in reality his twin's absence made him feels even more of a 出来損ない. He sought for a way to feel "seen" and to that he seeked the approval of other, and mostly that of Sombron's. The approval required to survive. But add to that the pressure of being someone else to preserve Nel's santity. This is represented by the dragon stone he wears on his chest. This is the pressure that Nil is putting on Rafal for 1000 years of having to play a role. An identity that is not his.

And then came another feeeling : the guilt and impostor syndrom he developped by getting attached to Nel. Rafal loves Nel more then anyone else, she is his precious big sister, however, he always felt that he was stealing Nil's place towards her since he isn't her twin, he isn't her other half/半身. Rafal had already accepted that while he view Nil's as his missing half, Nil's only half was Nel. So he expected to never be able to be that to Nel as well, to stole Nil's big sister. He himself said that the time he spend with her at Lythos castle was very precious to him but that it was a stolen treasure, because it's not him that should have been experiencing this, in his mind, it's Nil that should have known this chance. Even after the Xenologue, when he joins you at Somniel, he would often talk about Nil. This creates yet another pressure : Rafal is scared of what would happen if Nel learn the truth. On one hand, he feels guilty for receiving the love that belongs to Nil, on the other this loves makes him happy but he feels that it doesn't belong to him because he believes Nel views him as Nil, someone he isn't, reinforcing that feeling of imposture. The only love and support he received, something he really needed, come from pretending to be someone else creating both a feeling of having stolen something and this feeling of not deserving but also his desire to be seen and the fear that comes from it. He said that he knew that Nel would not forgive him for deceiving her but that becoming her "Nil" was the only way for him to experience the kindness and the love of a sibling, something he doesn't even remember experiencing when his twin died. He expected Nel to change her attitude would he told her the truth and to abandon him.

If you S support Rafal, his pact ring wake up events makes it even more obvious that he suffers from severe abandonement fear, be it from his sister or anyone who became close to him which is why he initially is reluctant to tie with people, that and is own self acceptance issues and self loath. So imagining a world where Nel would no longer be here for him and might even hate him is probably the scariest experience ever as it means he would be once again alone, deprived of his other half. Because he fears such a thing and that he doesn't want to betray Nil's wish, he just stick with the act and repress his inner feelings. It creates an endless circle on which he is trapped and cannot escape. Those two pressure are complimented by Nel's own gaze that Rafal views as never seeing "him" and thus, manifest on his chest as such.

The dragonstone being the iris completing this eye that keep watching him, resting on his chest, the representation of the expectations that weigh upon him, the three "gazes" that weigh upon him : Nel's, Nil's and Sombron. In that post, I already mentionned how Rafal wanted to grant Nil's wish, but because this wish was contradicting the wish of protecting Nel and concuring with his own desire to be acknowledge by Sombron as again, Rafal is emulating his father in order to sound "strong". His sought for value is what lead him to developp a competitive nature as he believes that only through rivalry can he prove himself and prove himself as someone's equal. This what he seeks : an other half.

And all of this can be expressed and read through the symbolism running with the image of his chest. The eye being completed and looking like an eye watching him because of the dragonstone, the symbol of the expectations being pushed unto him. This is also the one thing that he and Nil both lacks, seeks, the one thing he obtain thanks to the wish granted by the Emblem bracelets.

"Why can't I turn into a big dragon like you and Father ?"

His whole goal was to turn into a dragon to grant Nil's wish and this aligned with Sombron's goal, but this desire to turn into a dragon was based on wanting to protect Nel and be her true equal, however under Sombron's influence, much like in the main game, that selfless desire became corrupted and considering what I have said earlier about how Rafal felt, he was an easy target.

I already mentionned that the only time Rafal's face looked similar to his face after the Xenologue was when he was in pain.

That's because the true Rafal is always in pain. He said it himself

"I don't understand ! I don't understand !! My chest hurts ....My chest is always hurting ! Always !!"

Again, pointing at his chest. The place where he wears Nel's dragonstone and Sombron's curse.

The word 胸/mune refers to the chest however it can also refer to the heart. While Rafal wears it at the center of his chest rather then his heart, when he is talking about the pain he feels in his chest, there is a double meaning. It's not just Sombron's curse that he had been enduring for so long, it's also the void, the pain, the feeling he has been repressing for years, millenia, his profond pain. Rafal is in reality someone who is rather selfless and just sought for love, but he ends up commiting terrible actions which in return, makes him disgusted at himself. Unlike Sombron or Zephia in the main game, who were doing what they did thinking they were in the right and might eventually reach happiness because they had a purpose, Rafal never truly believe that the path he was following was the right one for him because he lost his purpose, he was just merely doing things and eventually hoped that Nel would end him and the endless everlasting pain he felt in his heart/chest. Rafal does awful things because he feels awful and these awful crimes makes him feel even worse about himself. Again it's creating a circle of pain from which he cannot escape. Mental health is much more fragile then physical one. The wounds of the mind and the heart are much harder to heal so when you really have no way to heal, you are essentially doomed. Rafal feels awful about himself and how cannot he ? He feels empty, alone and fear to lost the only person that matters to him having already lost an half and then another one. Because he felt completely alone and had no one to turn to, Rafal needed help, and he needed this help to come from the only person he loved, his sister.

When Alear fight Rafal in this boss conversation, they say

...あの人は、世界を救えと言わなかった。

大切な人たちを救ってと言っていた。

全て滅ぶことを知りながら、あなたの救済を願っていた。

私はそれを伝えます。戦うことで、倒すことで。

あなたを愛する人がいるということを！

... that "person" didn't aske me to save the world. But to save the people they treasured.

Even though they/I knew that everything would perish, they/I prayed for you to be saved.

I will prove you that. By fighting you, by defeating you. That there is "someone" who loves you !

Because Rafal needs to be saved. Unlike Veyle who could free herself after receving the support from her sibling and thus recovering her agency, Rafal cannot free himself, because of how he is a 出来損ない.

When Rafal turns into a Great Fell dragon

His chest is still standing out. But he also bears a 3rd eye. Remember what I said earlier about it being a sign of "awakening" ? Rafal awakened to his dark side, and again he is still not being himself, it's Sombron's puppet we are seeing here. He is again completely toyed with by Sombron and ended up turning into this dragon form similar to Sombron's but very different in how it's absolutely deformed and even more monstruous then the form Sombron has in the MG after turning into a Great Fell dragon. In short, it's his pain finally manifesting in a physical form. In short, Rafal's "awakening" is finally letting out of all the pain and negative feelings he has been repressing for years, turning into the "monster" he view himself as being. The one who brought destruction to that world and made so many people suffers, a creature that need to be taken down. Rafal's birthday, 31st of december follow this logic, as it marks him as being the marker of an era's end. However, Rafal believes that is salvation can only be death.

The fact that he keeps pointing at his chest/heart at being the place that hurts him this deeply clearly means that he wants someone to end him so that "the pain can finally stop", that is why he smiles when he believes Nel will dealt the final blow

He said himself that when he switched place with Nil he was already dead in a way. The 1 000 year he lived prettending to be Nil was being like a dead living, like a Corrupted...(alear parallel jumpscare). His true face was the one in pain, because Rafal has always been feeling nothing but pain in all those years, the pain in his chest is the pain of his heart feeling nothing but despair and emptiness due to being incomplete.

出来損ない, how he is called in japanese, is translated as "failure" or even "good for nothing" but more accurately, it means "unfinished","incomplete". Which is how Rafal felt in his heart, with his half lacking and no one being able to complete him.

Again, we never saw the real Rafal until the point where he begs fro being killed.

This is the one moment in the Xenologue where his face bear an expression similar to after the Xenologue is over and that is not his face being in absolute pain

The moment where he tells Nel that she must kill him. So briefly before Nel reveals that in reality she always viewed Rafal as who he was because she knew that in truth Nil was dead. The moment where having seen how Rafal felt inside, she actually told him the truth about how she viewed him and then

Nel stabs herself leading to her dragonstone breaking, releasing Rafal from the eye on his chest and thus the pressure he suffered from his promise with Nil, making him free to be Rafal rather then "Nil" or "Sombron's heir". This is when this break that Rafal finally reveals his true name

"My name is Rafale. It's Rafale...."

His face is not shown at that moment, but it's the moment where he is finally being himself for the first time. Rafal's true self only slipped through some little glimpse, that we could see in chapter 6 when he talked about being killed by Nel, but when the stone breaks, Rafal is finally being freed from what trapped him into this endless circle of pain, because Nel's sacrifice and proof of love made him finally feel seen and love for who he is and also because what he feared would happened ended up happening : he lost Nel, he lost his "other half" for the thrid time. Hence :

"My chest/heart hurts... It still hurts... Big sis, you liar !"

"You told me that the pain would finally go away !! Yet it still hurts so much !!"

Instead of freeing him, Nel's sacrifice hurts Rafal even more. He only sought for a way for his pain to end, but it didn't worked. Rafal's line looks and sounds very childish, calling Nel a "liar" like a child would do and his seiyuu's performance reinforces it. This again shows that Rafal was dead when he was too immature to handle the situation he found himself in. Despite being much older then Veyle, he was unable to free himself from this endless circle of pain because he was too mentally weak. He needed exterior help, but while Nel indeed freed him and allowed him to finally live as himself, Rafal is under the shock of having lost for the thrid time his other half. Hence he doesn't consider himself saved nor freed because how can he live as himself if he has no purpose and having betrayed his promise to protect Nel and gain the strengh/power to protect her like Nil requested ?

But this isn't over. Remember Rafal and Nel's support ? Both ended up bearing an injury on the... chest. And Nel state that they bear it in the same spot, making it a proof of them being halves. Additionally, the dragon stone is no longer the symbol of Rafal's emprisonnement, but what he shares with Nel, the "fragements" that keeps them united, that they share their strengh.

Also remember when asked if Rafale calling Nel "neesan" was the the hint that he was not Nil ? Well, I think this emotional cue is answering it.

He was at the end able to freed himself from Sombron' eye/influence by destroying the dragonstone that represented his obession to grant Nil's wish and is freed himself from this seek for strengh that was misguided.

#fire emblem engage #fire emblem #fe engage #fire emblem rafal #rafal fire emblem #fe rafal #fell xenologue

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thereisnolumos · 5 months

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What annoys me about jk Rowling and how she writes slytherin: I feel like she goes back and fourth making slytherin house outcasts in the school to extremely evil villians. But doesn't commit to either because she needs conflict and to keep readers guessing. I don't know maybe there's something wrong with me that while reading the series the first time I kept getting annoyed that a group of people around my age was always depicted as the villians and the jockey Gryffindor house always kept winning. Like to fully love the book you had to have this black and white thinking of Gryffindor good slytherin bad. And you can't think that maybe slytherin are the way they are do to deeper meanings but never explore those meanings or resolve the issues. Like the school literally encourages putting these houses against each other with a manipulative point system that really doesn't help learning. We are suppose think this one house in the school is evil. Yet we continue to let the house exist, and do nothing to fix the problems. Just continue the generational trauma. Because you know wizard British traditions.

So… I completely lost this in the depth of the ask box… awkward 🥴

JKR is a bad writer who wouldn’t notice subtext and complexity of they hit her right on the face (among her other sins, but that’s a can of rotten worms for the entirely separate post)

She writes “all Slytherins are evil and Gryffindor is the most desirable option” in the words of an 11yo who never came to be any kind of smart, and one would assume, that it would be a plot line throughout the whole series to prove him wrong, to show that no House is inherently good or bad, and no House os better or worse than the other. But than she keeps backpedaling on this very simple plot point, showing that nope, he was right, Slytherin=Bad, Gryffindor=Good. Even with the woke Snape ordeal that she presented as the epitome of a redemption arc (it wasn’t) and bravery (is bravery in the room with us?), even there she backpedaled on the absolutely real possibility of showing “HERE! A GOOD SLYTHERIN! LOOK”, by writing Dumbledore lamenting over “sorting students too early”, implying that once again, Slytherins just can’t be good, and if Snape is good he must’ve been sorted wrongly. LIKE COME ON!!!

She even made it a point to write that all Slytherins came to Voldemort after evacuating form Hogwarts, except for Draco, which 1)Narratively wrong, we know that at least Crabbe and Gould remained in Hogwarts with Draco, and 2)Makes zero fucking sense! Seriously, ALL of them? Every single one? Not all of them even had parents being Death Eaters, if she wanted to write the lamest “everyone chose the same thing their parents did” point. The only reason we ever thought she was a good writer is because we were little and had zero critical thinking and she managed to create an appealing story despite being shitty at writing

Every good thing about the HP series happened in canon DESPITE all of JKR’s intentions and I absolutely love this paradox. Every single nuance that we love now as adults, all of the gray areas and characters, every possibility to broaden the lore and universe that we live in fandom is there despite her every single attempt to smother them and make everything strictly black and white one-dimensional boredom. The whole fandom is still so alive because we divorced her and took full custody over a child 👌🏼

#anti jkr #anti rowling #harry potter #slytherin

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dirtydragonthoughts · 4 months

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Transformers Yuletide Literary Fest - Day 5

Welcome to the Transformers Yuletide Literary Fest! I'll be recommending one or two fics every day until Christmas. Feel free to join in if you'd like (I'm using the tag #tylf2023 for this.) All fics are complete!

(If I can easily find a Tumblr account for the author I'll tag them. If you know of an author who has a Tumblr account and I didn't tag them, please let me know so I can add it! )

Fics in my recommendations will come in two different flavours: tangy and spicy. 😄 As always, curate your own online reading experience, and mind the tags if necessary for your own safety. ♥

Tangy

Title: If Language Were Liquid

Author: @quadrilioquy

Rating: General

Wordcount: 2922

Summary: Bumblebee's voice box is malfunctioning again, and he joins Ratchet and Raf for a perfectly timed lesson on Cybertronian grammar.

Why I love it: I love the fanon idea of Cybertronians being able to add harmonics or additional glyphs (or something along those lines) to their spoken language, something which would come in very handy when they're in alt mode and can't emote the way that they can in bot mode. Plus, language can tell us a lot about how a culture thinks, and we get a glimpse of that here. In this fic, we get a look at what that might mean for names, and how you could use them to modify how you articulate a friend's name. Lovely piece!

Spicy

Title: Autoerotic

Author: @postapocalyptic-cryptic

Rating: Explicit (for human/robot sex)

Wordcount: 1000

Summary: Sunstreaker and Hunter recover what's been lost.

Why I love it: Surprisingly, IDW1 did manage to do a reasonable job at least touching on all of the head-fuckery characters experienced for things that happened to them, and the whole Sunstreaker/Hunter O'Nion headmaster situation was no different. This story delves a little deeper than canon (and obviously veers off in a different direction) but gives us a quick look at one of the possible outcomes of sharing headspace with an alien.

#tylf2023 #fic rec #maccadam #valveplug

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how-masterful · 2 years

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31 FICS OF FRIGHT

DAY 1- THE LADDER OF LUCK

Dhawan!Master x Reader

Prompt: Superstition

Notes: Welcome to the first chapter of My Halloween mini fic series! This year i’ve decided to challenge myself and write 30 randomly generated mini fics with the five main Masters, ending with a remaster on the 31st. These will be daily slice of life style rather than my usual essays fics with a full story. Think of them as little tricks and treats for the most wonderful time of the year! Hopefully you enjoy!

Warnings: None

“I’m not superstitious, Master. Why should I be?”

The Master sent you a disapproving look from the top of the wheeled ladder you’d just passed under. He leant against the top shelf, one hand on his hip, the other leaning on the tall bookcase in the east corner of the library. He couldn’t believe it- you’d just waltzed straight under him, completely ignoring the most basic, fundamental wives tale there is.

“Because!” he argued, placing his hardback in its gap upon the shelf with a frown.

“You humans always are! With good reason, I should add.”

You rolled your eyes. He always was haplessly dramatic with the smallest things. It was something you usually adored about him. Except for times like this.

“It's just a bunch of, y’know, ‘Hocus Pocus’. Like manifesting destiny, you just start looking for patterns”.

You pulled another book from the shelf and began to flick through the pages. Above your head you heard the smooth glide of the ladder, and looked up to see the Master had pulled himself along the bookcase- both he and the ladder now looming before you. You closed the book, tucking it within the crook of your arm.

“Having fun up there?”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

You scoffed, which soon turned into a small laugh. You leant against the bookcase, sending the Master an exasperated smile.

“You break a mirror; they say it's bad luck. Supposedly. But in reality, you’re just looking for something spooky to place the blame on when things go wrong.”

Turning away from the Master, you continued to walk down the lengthy corridor of books. The sound of the ladder followed, the Master close behind you, his shadow hitting the floor under the warm lights that flanked each shelf.

“Oh no, I lost my job. Must have been the mirror. God damn bloody Mary.”

“Now she was a RIGHT piece of work.”

You stopped in your tracks, turning around to glare up at the Master. You’d only just noticed he’d put on his glasses. He should wear them more often, you thought.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“The historical name dropping. You and the doctor always do it.”

The Master smirked, returning to his casual position of leaning against the top shelf.

“Y’know. I never suspected you to be a sceptic.”

“And why is that?”

“I thought you’d know better.”

You gaped up at the Timelord in offense. The Master braced himself against the edges of the ladder and slid down the golden rungs, before landing on the floor at your side.

“Now what on earth are YOU on about?”

The Masters arm found its way around your middle, moving to guide you towards the end of the row.

“Do you remember the story I told you of my dealings with Azal?”

You gave a small nod. You loved that story. Apart from the Master almost dying. But that was a usual part of his stories.

“Well, that whole thing made me want to dig deeper. Plus, I had a lot of time to myself in prison. So I started researching more into ancient myths, wives tales, that sort of thing. And y’know what I found out?”

“It's all bullshit?”

“It's all science!”

At that, you paused, finally at the end of the row. You send the Master an incredulous expression. He looked awfully proud of himself.

“Azal was an alien, dearest. Most of your earthly supernatural stories come from the likes of me landing on your sad, little old planet and making our mark.”

“But that doesn't explain how my palms being itchy means i'm gonna have good luck.”

“If you stopped interrupting, maybe I could tell you.”

You gave the Master a well meaning scowl as you moved to sit upon the plush sofa, sitting cross legged in view of the roaring fire.

The Master sat opposite, elegantly crossing his ankles as he lounged against the arm.

“Most superstitions come from probability fields, leftover energy. Like how you and I are drenched in artron energy from the time vortex.”

You pondered, tilting your head. “Serious?”

“As the plague, love. When that black cat crosses your path and you trip over a brick, it's because that cat's ancestors were probably the pets of some very unlucky aliens. Friday the 13th? Probably the day a race lost an army. It's a hereditary thing.”

You were so engrossed in the Masters explanation, you hadn't even noticed the steaming mug of hot chocolate that had appeared upon the table, sitting neatly upon a coaster. Piled high with whipped cream, covered in sprinkles and chocolate flakes, with a cluster of marshmallows neatly sat against the rim. The TARDIS liked to surprise you both. You’d yet to thank her fully.

“So yeah, superstitions are very much real.”

“I’m still not convinced, Master”

You eagerly uncrossed your legs, sitting up to grasp hold of the mug. You clutched the steaming vessel and suddenly recoiled from the heat, the mug crashing out of your hands and onto the ground below. The ceramic shattered, sending the hot drink soaking into the carpet, the marshmallows and sprinkles haphazardly sprawled on top of the melting cream in the shape of a wonky frown.

You looked at the Master for support, but couldn't find any. He simply watched in amusement, the timelord casually grasping his own drink, mug held tight in hand.

He took a hearty sip and licked the foam from the corner of his mouth.

“Mmm. Shouldn't have walked under that ladder.”

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mizukagami-takamagahara · 2 months

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Annon-Guy: What's your opinion on the Split Timeline thing introduced in XBLAZE Lost Memories? You know, the idea of the XBLAZE World and the Bloodedge Experience World being seperate from the BlazBlue World and each othe I mean.

This is actually a really fun question, and I’ve been procrastinating on answering it because I have a whole theory related to it but I don’t want to get into it without being able to cite my sources, you know??? Unfortunately today will STILL not be the day I really get into it, because I’ve been in and out of the hospital and still have not found those sources I wanted. Whoops.

But let’s at least get to an initial answer. Usually I hate split timelines in stories; I like consistency and I like making huge conspiracy boards full of connections I’ve noticed. A split timeline is a smart move for writers when a series gets too big; it alleviates the pressure for absolute consistency between different authors. It gives them room to be more creative, to explore more- it also gives them room to make minor mistakes. But like I said, I really really love my concrete consistency. Split timelines kind of take away narrative tension for me, too; I can’t get too excited about what xyz event means for the rest of the series, because it may not have even happened.

Interestingly, I actually really like BB’s split timeline set up. This is a unique case, and I originally didn’t like it, but then I saw a post on… I can’t remember if it was Reddit or Steam or what, I want to find it so I can link back to it and discuss it more in depth. Someone was positing the theory/interpretation that the three separate “timelines” (BB, XBlaze, Bloodedge) actually do occur in one reality.

Remember how at the end of CF, Terumi (and, like, everyone a little bit) was trying to kill Amaterasu to end this world, and create a new one???

Or how Sechs in XBlaze wanted to “return everything to the Seithr,” also ending his world???

In the west, when we hear a story has "multiple timelines" or a "multiverse," we think of stories like Marvel and Homestuck. In these stories, there are infinite worlds operating in their own, separate 'bubbles,' but existing effectively simultaneously.

The post posited that BlazBlue’s setting uses a different interpretation of “multiple timelines/universes,” more rooted in Asian culture. Like concepts of reincarnation or the Hindu Yuga Cycle. In these types of stories, there are many 'worlds'- generally far too many for the human mind to count, but still a finite number. And only one exists at a time. The next is born when the previous dies.

The idea here is that each separate BB-verse setting happens in a linear order, one at a time, going about its own business until the world is ‘ended'- that is, where it dissolves and "returns to the Seithr," the Boundary.

From this, it is recreated and begins again- or the next setting begins. After enough repetitions, certain events may end up drastically different- or someone may manipulate the recreation process to influence the ‘new world.’

This would be Susano'o's plan at the end of CF, and part of the promise that Izanami was selling to everyone during the fight for the Azure.

This would also be what the Origin did to start the C-series, using Amaterasu to influence the world’s next ‘rebirth,’ and then refusing to move on/let anything change.

I wish I could get deeper into this subject, and I hope I do at some point, because it completely changed how I interpret BlazBlue’s setting and several plot points and I really love it. I wish it was a more popular interpretation in the fandom. I’d also like to look deeper into the story to see if I can cite some points that give evidence to this theory.

At some point when I have more energy I'd love to revisit this topic, explaining it better and citing some sources from the BB series that I believe support this interpretation.

For now, what do you all think???

#bb setting #ao no imakagami #ao no kokagami #takehaya susanoo #ten sages sechs #sankishin #the origin #bb theories #bb headcanons

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