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mizulekitten · 9 months ago

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Looong ramble below. Hoping that typing above it will make sure the keep reading actually shows up.

I get how Dragonflight, by Anne McCaffrey was like... revolutionary for its time. I can see it clear as day. It's such a... It's so bad, but it's so good. But it's also really bad. But good.

Like the whole Search was pretty good. Lessa was a very strong character with deep roots and clear motivations. F'lar and F'nor have a clear mission: do not allow the same mistake of a incompetent Weyrwoman to happen again.

(Personal side note: please don't name prominent characters names so close together. I don't care that they're half brothers. It's taken me writing this out, 135 pages into reading, to tell who is who. Like if I wasn't about to write F'lar over and over again, I'd still be mixing their names up. That's just me though, not on Anne.)

You get the feel that Lessa is cunning, patient, yet impatient when it feels like success is within her grasp. Clever, but so used to being alone in her planning that the idea of approaching others is impossible. The society she is in supports that from the get go. Drudges are disregarded, the hold is in shambles, even the Fs (F'lar and F'nor) don't look at the drudges at first as possible options. No one came to the aid of her hold when Fax took control. (Which is, in part, time travel shenanigans, I know.) Point is, she feels isolated.

The Fs show us the disrepair and troubling times with their worries of who they'll pick as their option for Weyrwoman, the tension within the Weyr, and there's a clear sense of dread and worry of what's to come. Further supported by Lessa's worrying feelings, and the red star approaching. The goading and taunting F'lar directs towards Lessa to get her to join as a candidate reads so good as he works off first impressions of her, and we get further solidification of the caste system this world works in as he belittles her looks and treatment, clearly calling it out as reprehensible, but also very clearly only doing it to get her to comply. Not because drudges deserve respect, but because he needs her.

And the hatching ceremony itself is awesome. We see a boy get fucking torn apart by a dragon, another gets trampled. We see the harshness of newborn instinct in all its glory. Frankly, the fact that we never revisit any of the male hatchlings is such a... Missed opportunity. It certainly further highlights how isolated she is that she's only spoken to when her dragon is awake by the bronze leaders, but it would've been interesting to see it juxtaposed with the boys. It's certainly not necessary though, I'm just curious what it would've been like (especially for the boy that got trampled, but still claimed a dragon. That's cool, and sad, and traumatizing. What's up with him?)

And then the book just... I don't know. Supposedly this was two stories combined. I'm hoping this part is where that combination happened, because everything after the hatching so far has felt sooooo weak. You're telling me in two years, with the power to communicate with any dragon, that Lessa hasn't gone out of her way to learn anything about her situation? She's just... Annoyed but accepting that she's being lectured in the most boring way possible to her. Like... It's been two years, and she's just now finding out about all the limitations with her dragon. You're telling me she hasn't asked any questions, done any sleuthing? This woman who single handedly turned a whole hold against a ruling party, to the point the castle was near unlivable over the course of ten years, with clear intentions to then rule said hold like... Isn't using all those skills here too?

Like she finds out they don't have enough food, and that's the first time she exercises her magical influence over people??? But then it's heavily implied she's been doing this for months with that one guy. And this whole fight over food starts on page 108. The argument between everyone lasts until page 113. The very next page she's reprimanded for making K'net go on a raid because she's an idiot who understands nothing. They then have a useless fight over how she doesn't know anything (which the Lessa we were introduced to in the very beginning, would've known what everyone was doing as soon as she realized this gig fucking sucked within the first month). She's blamed for "uncontrolled raiding" that hasn't happened yet, but apparently has been happening for months. Like this is very unclear when Lessa started to influence K'net to do this stuff. Like the passage of time isn't there. These scenes are back to back with little to no indication of time passing.

Also, like... I've been taking the rampant sexism as it comes. This was written in the 60s. Do I like it? No. Can I suspend my personal beliefs to read a story? Yes. (Is it terribly confusing on how we got here when the first Pern book I read was First Fall and even with the bits of sexism there, people were all pretty damn equal. Like I get a caste system forming, but how did woman fall even worse under that? It's very white-euro-centric views of pre-technology times which makes sense. Again, written in 60s by a white woman. It just... I don't know how we got here.) Anyways. Rampant sexism, can roll with it. Cannot roll with the glossing over of details though. Page 115. Does F'nor hit her or not??? Like "F'nor swung on her..." and then he says something short, and her very next response is "Why?" Girl did you just get sucker punched in the face or not? There is no indication if that hit landed, or how she reacted. Like as a drudge I fully know she got beat the fuck up by anyone with a tiny bit of power above her, but like... Was she hit or not???? If you're going to have an action, it's not even a sexist thing, it's a writing thing. Did Lessa get hit? That should be clear regardless of ones views on gender. A writer should be answer if she got hit, and the answer, in no world, makes sense that she just asks "why?" to what he was saying. Like no, rubbing her face, no looking up at F'nor, nor physical response.

Point being. We're suddenly being introduced to "We're not going to starve right away but there's definitely a threat of that which needs to be address, you've apparently been causing raids for months, you're fucking with politics you, despite being here for two years, have no understanding of. Oh, also, you're dragon is about to fuck, the guy doing the raids isn't doing them anymore, and the politics you apparently don't understand, you don't need to understand because F'lar got back here fast enough for there to be no repercussions for the fight you just caused."

I completely understand that the change of politics is something that's explored afterwards, as is the repercussions of these raids that she apparently has been causing for months, but the pacing is so fuuuuucked. She's bored at her lessons. She finds out they're going to starve. Oh, just kidding, Ruatha hold sent a bunch of food. Wait, there's a meeting about food shortages and how it's going to be handled. You've apparently been sending raids for months despite the fact that we found out about starvation only a handful of pages ago with no indication that time had gone by.

But then we're in F'lar's pov after he just became the head guy of the house. And now repercussions of things introduced in ten pages are suddenly big and bad? Now that we're looking through F'lar's eyes. You expect me to believe that a whole legion of bitches are marching up to a castle for something I only just barely learned about? Yes, we know that the Fs have been raiding for awhile, but we also know they're pretty damn discreet with it. So like... The way the book presents this sequence of events is: Fs and their group have been doing quiet, discreet raids to keep their dragons fed, since they know things are going south. Lessa finds out about the food shortage, and only during the big meeting of all the bronzes, does she start to try and influence people to go on raids. K'net leaves the meeting, intent to go raiding, for what is being presented as his first time doing this. She is then blamed for two months of raids. This supposed two months of raids, is enough to make all the holds come together to march on the Weyr. This whole conflict, on top of her dragon needing to fuck, is covered in ten pages not even.

There's no build up. There's no believable stakes. The stake of starvation are immediately soothed with "oh, don't worry though we just got a shipment, so its not as bad." So the meeting talking about food shortages suddenly feels so... Less. Like what if they hadn't gotten the shipment from Ruatha yet? Suddenly, this fight has a lot more immediate repercussions. Lessa sends K'net out raiding. Tensions continue to rise as food is scarce, but somehow K'net is being fed, Lessa starts to realize that the Fs dragons never look hungry. Then, boom, they get the food from the Ruatha. They learn that, if they inspire respect in a hold that they're more likely to get good shit. Yeah, Lytol is a previous dragonrider, but clearly everyone in the hold is fine with this because there's no bad news from Ruatha. Now, R'gul's leadership is under scrutiny from the other bronzes, not just traditionalist Fs. What if dragons were out there, reminding people that they exist, they're powerful, they can be helpful. Maybe, throughout this, we can sprinkle in some more signs that dragon mating is a thing. Lessa and her dragon feeling certain things in little blips. It's the 60s, it doesn't have to be a nice like coming of age sex story. It can be "oh my god, F'lar is so aggravating but he's so handsome." Like I don't need ground breaking, equality based character development that would've been out of place at the time.

Like there's a whole book there. Leading up to the mating flight, to R'gul being hoisted out of power, to the Holds marching on the Weyr. But instead it's ten pages. All of Lessa's cunning, even in it's shortsightedness is just... Gone. This badass view of her when F'lar tells her to go get the hold women and keep them hostage is like... So flat. Yeah, she's a predator, and the way he describes her is awesome in those scenes, but I don't believe you.

I don't know if it's because this was supposed to just be a glimpse into the world or what. Like building up to time travel, which sounds awesome. I'm trying so hard to get to that point, believe me, but this start is so rough.

Like I'm not trying to nitpick because I think I could write it better. This concept is crazy and awesome and I love the other Pern books I read. (The very last page of First Fall pisses me off, though, and definitely had me well aware that the sexist for modern 2024 I was going to get into was not exaggerated. Probably why I'm rolling with it so well in this book despite the gratuitous and casual abuse Lessa is going through.)

I don't know. I don't have a point, I guess. Something about this book is just... bad, and I can't name it, while on the other hand being pretty damn cool. It's making it so hard to get through though.

#if this shows up in the main tags for the series #please ignore this xD #I like the books but I'm just having a hard time with this one #and needed to get it out because it was bothering me #although I guess I dont know what “It” is still #pacing I suppose #I'd be lying if I said the sexism wasnt a bit off putting #but I've got experience with outdated books #they can still be really damn good #Idk I'm gonna ramble again #I'ma go watch dnd podcasts #long post #in case the read more doesnt work #for anyone scrolling I pray it works because I rambled

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toxicanonymity · 2 months ago

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Mama's Boy, 18+

slasher Joel masterlist | problematic playlist | AO3

PAIRING: Slasher!Joel x f!reader LENGTH: 7.2k words and none wasted tbh SUMMARY: Dinner at his mom's house, mostly. WARNINGS: 18+ dark, unsafe PinV, gunplay, degradation, a bit of angst, a whiff of incest, choking-adjacent, dark!reader, major revelations (!), feelings maybe? (god help us), mommy and daddy issues, slasher Joel needs a hug. NOTES: Today is not only mother's day, but also the 2nd anniversary of his first fic. This is packed. @flawssy-227 ty for your activism. And @thesummerpetrichor, I thought of you 🖤. Joel can carry reader.

It's Sunday. He lets himself in.

“Still in bed? Must’ve been ass up face down pretty late last night, huh? Told ya i'd pick ya up… ”

You squint at him as your eyes adjust. “What are you talking about?” He has something draped over his shoulder.

Too much talking. Not enough fucking.

He scoffs, “Really? Sunday dinner, slut.” He marches over to your nightstand with a snarl, picks up a folded piece of paper, and tosses it at you like a frisbee.

Oh yeah.

You unfold it as if it's the first time you've read it: “pick u up sunday.” There's a sketch of his fat cock and a thinner outline of what's presumably a dong next to it. “p.s. u need a real toy.”

Well, here he is. Picking you up on Sunday, and he's even kinda cleaned himself up. A plaid shirt and jeans tighter than his work uniform. Looks like a normal guy you could pass in the supermarket, none the wiser that he’d shove a huge tool up your cunt.

He stands by your bed holding up one dress in each hand. Neither of them yours.

“Now put on somethin’ decent.”

He throws them onto the bed, then pulls a gun out of the back of his pants. “What do you think? ” He gestures between them with the gun.

One of the dresses is simple, clean lines, not far off from something you might normally wear. But it has a brown stain and a frayed edge. It doesn't feel right.

The other dress is a strawberry plant pattern with short sleeves that puff out. It's faded and outdated, but clean and in decent shape–from what you can tell, at least.

“Got my own clothes,” you tell him.

But he insists, “This ain't the street corner, sugar. You're gonna pick one of these.”

“I'm too tired for this,” you complain, then add, “I dunno what makes you think I wanna go to your mom's house.”

“Come on, baby…” He looks at the gun. “I don't wanna use this… unless I'm stuffin’ your muff with it later ”

After looking at both the dresses, you can't bear to put on the stained one and choose the strawberry print. You feel unexpectedly cute in what could have been plucked from a mid century catalogue for housewives, although it’s probably from modcloth circa 2015.

Turning around in the mirror, it’s actually really flattering, and there’s something kinda sexy about dressing up like this degenerate's pretty little wife…Yep, you're really doing this.

Maybe it’s partly out of morbid curiosity, wanting to know where he came from.

How he…. happened.

He brings you a pair of your own shoes and puts them down for you to step into.

“Yeah, that's my girl,” looking over your right shoulder at the bathroom mirror, he grabs your ass, then sticks his hand between your legs from behind, hooking his hand under you to reach your clit. Your feet spread reflexively, giving him more room. Still holding the gun in his right hand, the hand between your legs tents the dress as he strokes you, and your gut begins to swell with need. He spreads his feet and angles himself slightly toward you, getting close enough to press himself against you, letting you feel the warm log in those tight jeans, gun held against his meaty thigh. Your chest heats up and you adjust your tits in the dress, copping a feel of yourself while you’re at it.

“Good girl ” he mutters. With a glint of affection in his eyes, he says, “You were born to wear this dress, kitten.” Now that he’s got you dripping, his fingers slip into the crotch of your panties and he shoves one, then two, inside. “Mm,” he grinds against you as he stuffs you with his fingers. Then he pulls them out and squats down. He lifts the skirt of the dress and yanks the panties down to your ankles. You lean forward and brace yourself on the sink. He stands up, slides the gun between your legs and the smooth, cool metal of the top of the barrel rubs through your slippery seam. Your hips tilt and he slides it forward one last time, before taking it away.

He pats your ass, and says, “Now c’mon, let's go.”

Not even the decency to fuck you first. Not even with the gun.

You scowl at him in the mirror.

He asks, “Am I gonna have to drag you, kickin’ and screamin’?”

“Yeah, actually,” you reply.

“Alright,” he agrees, all too happy to oblige. He puts the sticky gun in the back of his pants, bends his knees. and lifts you over his shoulder with a grunt.

He steps through your open back door and slams it behind him with one hand, his other arm braced over the bare backs of your knees.

You yoink the gun from the back of his pants and he says, “God damnit, be careful with that,” without putting you down.

“You seem pretty sure I won't shoot you,” you observe.

“Course ya won't. Be like a … like a drug addict shootin’ their dealer… nah, shootin’ the drug cooker. Yeah. And he's the only cooker.”

He's getting slightly out of breath as he walks. Or maybe it’s the effort of all that thinking.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You ask.

“Cock hungry whore ain't gonna kill off the biggest cock she's got.”

You press the edge of the barrel against the small of his back and nudge it into his jeans, then demand, “Put me down.”

He groans in exasperation, stops, and sets you down in the side yard.

You almost forget to point the firearm at him. Almost. With the gun raised, you ask, “What’s with the gun anyway? Thought knives were your thing.”

He shrugs. “Special occasion?”

“Why do you want me to come to dinner so bad?”

“Cause I told her we were comin’, okay? Told her ya liked the casserole.”

For the first time, you notice his hair is a little bit combed. You ask, “What'd you tell her about me?”

“Uh,” He scratches the back of his neck. “She knows we met when I was workin’. Knows I gave ya a ride….knows ya ain't like other girls.”

“What’s that mean?” You ask, adjusting your grip.

“I dunno… ” He shrugs, then gets frustrated. “I ain't brought home a girl home in a long time, okay? And she's gettin’ older, and…”

When you've lowered the gun, he lunges forward, muttering, “Gimme that,” as he disarms you with ease that makes your heart skip a beat. He grabs you by the arm and marches you to the Volvo. He opens the passenger door and manhandles you into the seat.

When he gets in the car, he leans over and buckles your seatbelt for you. He smells clean and minty.

As he puts the car in drive, you ask, “What else did you tell her?”

“Uh…. She knows we ain't been on many dates.”

“Not many?” You ask with a laugh. “You mean none?”

He glances at you twice, suppressing a flattered smile at the implication he perceives. He wets his bottom lip. “That mean ya want to?”

He holds the gun against his thigh and steers with one hand.

When you get to his Mom's house, he warns, “Just don't talk about all your whorin’ around, okay? She won't like it.” He checks his hair in the rear view mirror.

You laugh, “What whoring around?”

“All those skinny dicks in your phone,” he mutters, getting out of the car.

“Excuse me?” You ask, still sitting.

“Just tell her about your day job instead,” he says, as if you genuinely don't think or talk about anything other than cock without prompting.

Wait--skinny dicks in your phone? Your train of thought dies when he puts the gun in the back of his pants, and in doing so exposes a few inches of skin, and the tail end of a scar. After he shuts the driver side door, you open yours while he hurries around to help you out.

“Come on,” His big hand wraps around your inner elbow again. “We're gonna be late.” He's slightly in front of you

“Bringing a gun into your mother's house?” you ask as he pulls you along.

He freezes, then mumbles, “You're right. Don't want her to think you're a bad influence. Even if ya are.”

What a gentleman.

He goes and puts it in the glovebox, then jogs to catch up with you again.

When she opens the door, Joel's mother beams at the sight of her son. She steps outside, frail and slow moving. She's pretty, with silky white hair that looks older than her face. The storm door creaks to a stuttering close behind her.

At first, it's like you're invisible. He lets go of you, and they embrace. She reaches for the back of his neck and says, “C'mere, baby,” pulling his face to hers. He kisses her on the cheek, then she kisses him, and then, as they separate, Joel gestures toward you. Her eyes are curious when they meet yours, then her face comes to life as her gaze falls down your body. She puts a hand on her hip as she checks you out, her other hand rising to her mouth for a moment, then resting on her chest, fingers centered in the hollow of her collar bone.

“Joel,” she half-laughs in flirtatious accusation, then narrates, “Well, there she is…”

“Don't she look nice? ” Joel asks with a subtle smile and blush.

His mom admires you with an air of disbelief, then goes in for a hug. Her fragrance isn't entirely new to your nostrils, and the sensory recall brings an unsettling tingle to your loins: The night Joel brought the leftovers.

She holds you close, pressing her body all the way against yours without fully relaxing. Firm and in control, and yet , she feels softer than she looks. Her bosom is like a warm pillow. Like a relic of young motherhood, reaching through time, tickling your inner child awake.

As the hug ends, she gently pinches the puffed sleeves of your dress and says to Joel without looking at him, “Yes, baby. She looks real pretty.” Then, glancing up from your dress, she tells you with a smile, “Can't promise strawberries, but I do have cherry pie. Come on in.”

“Thank you, ma’am” you nod.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she chuckles, “You can just call me Mama.”

It sounds like you should know better. Like ‘Mama’ is the most obvious option. You glance at Joel, and he nods with a little smile of permission, as if that's what you’re looking for, and he's glad to give it.

Might as well rip the bandaid off: “Okay… Mama… well, it's nice of you to have me over.” In the back of your mind, you hope Joel doesn't think this is any special effort on your part. It's more like, your job requires manners, and this is your default setting with older folks.

She holds the door open with her body and you have to graze past her. “Smells delicious,” you observe with genuine hunger, having slept through the first two meals of the day.

She straightens her frilled apron with a smile and suggests, “Joel, why don't you give your girl a tour while I finish up?”

This is a relief - you hadn't been consciously dreading it, but worst case scenario, she would've asked you to help in the kitchen. She seems like that type.

–

It’s a humble brick ranch. Dimly lit. Everything is out of style, but tidy. There are a few bedroom doors, but he doesn’t open any of them, and you don’t pry. The paint in the hall is disrupted over a poorly repaired dent in the wall. You try not to look at the stains on the ceiling.

One of the living room walls has a fireplace, and one wall is lined with pictures. There's a bare corner with nothing but a crochet rug – a rounded rectangle, with raised crosses. The paint is newer over there. Bubbling and wanting to peel as the wall approaches the perpendicular wall, the one with the fireplace.

Before you can get a good look at anything, Joel steers you outside. In the small backyard, a wooden garden bed has overgrown with weeds. The lawn is nice and trim. “You help out with the yard?” You ask.

“Uh, sometimes,” he answers. “ She's got somebody else too .”

He rocks forward on his feet, arms crossed.

“So... you gonna fuck me in your boyhood bedroom?” You ask, and he clears his throat with a forced smile, brows knitted.

“What?” you ask. “Why the hell else would you take my panties?”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, allowing himself only a brief glance at you, until he does a double take and admits, “Fuck, you look good.” He seems more distressed by it than anything.

No such luck, you guess, raising your eyebrows at the visible outline against his thigh. Never would've pictured him in jeans.

He runs his hand through his hair, puffs out his cheeks with an exhale, and adjusts himself with effort before leading you back inside. His boot grazes the side of a metal bowl, sloshing water into dark spots on the cement.

She pours Joel a glass of milk with dinner, and when you politely decline, Joel says, “One glass won't hurt ya, baby .” Mama seems pleased to bring over the old fashioned bottle of milk. She rests her free arm on the back of your chair, with the fine lines of her cleavage near your eyes as she fills your glass.

The meatloaf is delicious, with sauce that reminds you of barbecue. The mashed potatoes are over-buttered, but they hit the spot. She smiles to herself, satisfied to watch you eat.

“So tell me about yourself,” she says. “Do you work?”

You swallow your food, nod, and tell her which clinic you work at.

“Oh,” she recognizes the name. “The one over on Main Street?”

“Yes, that's right.”

“That's nice,” she says. “Joel's going to own his own business one day. Do you ever want to own your own practice?”

“Oh, no, I don't think so,” you answer, then ask Joel, “What kind of business?”

“Joel, I'm surprised you haven't told her,” his Mom says, then lowers her voice to a conspiratorial volume to tell you, “He’s too modest.”

“Ya know, I guess a tow and repair one-stop shop,” Joel says. “Not a lot of guys do both, but I can really take care of ya. Same night, even. Late hours, too.”

His mom nods. “I always knew he'd be successful,” she says. “Even in the darker days.”

Joel tenses and begins to tap his heel. “ How about you, Mama? ” he asks, “ What have you been up to? ”

“Oh, you know, this and that,” she says. “Crossword was a doozie today!” she laughs. “What are you two gonna do this week? Anything special?”

You shrug and look at Joel.

He starts, “Uh… ”

His Mom bails him out, “You oughta take her to the drive-in like I said, baby,” then she asks you, "Would you like that, honey? You like the drive-in? We used to go, it was so nice.”

“Sure, I like movies,” you answer.

“See, Joel? She likes movies.”

Joel finishes his meatloaf relatively quickly, and his mother puts another generous slice on his plate.

“I don't need any more, Ma,” he says, but she doesn't listen, and he digs into it anyway. By his third slice, he’s pushed back in his chair, adjusting his belt. He pats his tummy and says, “There's nothin’ she makes that ain't good.”

“Only the best for my boy,” she agrees, then asks you, “Ain’t that right?”

“Of course,” you agree.

“Oh! I saw Randall Junior earlier,” she says. “He came by and did the lawn.”

“Randy,” Joel corrects her.

“Yeah, Randall’s son.”

“Randy,” Joel repeats. “He ain’t even a Junior, Ma. He’s the third.”

“Well, it was nice to see him,” she reminisces, fiddling with the corner of her placemat. She catches herself, smooths it down, then brings her hands together, fiddling with her left ring finger. “I swear, that boy’s an inch taller every time I see him.”

“He’s in his thirties,” Joel tells you, drawing a genuine smile to your lips. One that brings a sparkle to his eyes.

“Well, anyway,” she goes on, “A face like that belongs in the movies,” she chuckles to herself. “Of course, he’s nowhere near as handsome as my Joel,” she looks at you reassuringly as she says it. Lest you pine after Randy the third .

A silence stretches on until you say, “Well, this was delicious. I’d love the recipe…” You dab the corners of your mouth and put down your napkin.

“Oh, it’s not a recipe, honey,” she boasts, “It’s somethin’ ya do from the heart.” After a moment, she adds, “But I can write down the ingredients! Now, how about some cherry pie?”

She stands up, puts her apron back on, and you help her clear the table. “Go on Joel, we’ve got it,” Mama tells him, and he goes to sit in the living room.

“Okay,” Mama whispers to herself as she plates the first slice, a generous one. “This one’s for him.” You take it to Joel and he sits up from the couch to accept it with a thank you, reading your face for signs of how things are going. You flash him a small, unrevealing smile.

“Gonna take a piss,” he mumbles, and his eyes ask if that’s okay. “Sure,” you say with a little curtsy, trying not to smirk as you turn and head back to the kitchen.

Mama’s about to plate the other slices of pie when she lifts a finger in the air and says, “Oh, let me write this down before I forget,” then retrieves a notecard and pencil from a drawer. She puts on a pair of glasses and smiles to herself as she jots down the ingredients. You dwell in the threshold of the living room.

She looks up like she’s trying to remember something, then looks down and keeps writing on the notecard.

You begin to look at the pictures on the wall. Some are of Joel, and he’s straight-faced. Some are of cats. Charmingly, a blurry photo of a black cat has been deemed frame-worthy. It sits within a bigger rectangle, the shadow of where a different frame used to be. There are a few spots like this. There are a few relatively recent photos of Joel and his Mom. None with his father, as far as you can tell. None now, and none then. But when you look closer at the older ones, it’s clear some of them have been trimmed.

“He hates having his picture made,” Mama startles you from less than a foot away.

“You two seem really close,” you offer. “Just the two of you?”

She raises her eyebrows in amusement and lowers her volume. “Oh, Joel made sure of that .”

A chill in her voice hardens your nipples and dries your mouth. You search her face for more, but her eyes have wandered, and her face has fallen. “Been about thirty years, just the two of us—well, just me for a while…” You follow her eyes to the corner with the crochet rug, and she squeezes your arm.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

She eases her grip and manages a little smile. “Yes, dear.” She hands you the notecard.

Her handwriting is beautiful. Captivating.

You stay there, eyes scanning the photo wall, while she finishes plating your pie and hers.

One of the frames catches your eye. It’s the first one you’ve really zeroed in on, looking at the faces and not just the context. The picture is faded and yellowed.

Joel is young and smiling, with a pin-up looking woman hanging all over him.

A rush of begruding jealousy begs the question, who is that?

And then, your stomach turns before the realization sets in.

It’s a much younger Mama, with dark, loose curls befitting of a centerfold. All dolled up and glowing, with her arm around his middle. And god damn, her tits are swelling up out of her neckline. She looks…. Hot. Your lungs go hollow, then your chest expands with a deep breath. Something's stirring in your gut. Arousal? Attraction?

Your eyes pan down to her Mary Jane heels, but the swell of her breasts, those bouncy curls… your eyes are pulled back up her body. The dress is cute, and proper. Innocent, even. But the way she wears it… Sweetheart neckline, puffed sleeves… You squint for a closer look, and your breath hitches. Heat rises to your face, to the tips of your ears. Your heart races. You pull your eyes away, chest burning, and pretend you don't notice anything.

Something soft brushes your calf and you gasp and jump as you look down to see a black cat thread between your legs.

“Oh, it’s Daniel!” Mama says. “He must’ve come in behind you. Not allergic, are you? Here’s your pie, honey.” She sets down your plate on the coffee table.

“You good, baby?” Joel asks.

Taking your place on the sofa next to Joel, you sit like a lady, one foot tucked behind the other ankle, minding your lack of panties. The dress is just long enough to cover your knees.

The three of you finish dessert in silence aside from forks scraping good china and Daniel purring from that rug in the corner. Joel finishes first, and stretches his arm behind you on the sofa. When you finish, you sit back with him, knee brushing his. You will yourself to relax. You will yourself not to ogle his mother in trying to reconcile her fragile frame of today with those curves of yesteryear.

She looks back and forth at the two of you sitting side by side and smiles. She puts down her plate, crosses her legs toward you, and clasps her hands. A smile rises through her pretty cheekbones as she looks directly at you.

“Ya know, Joel was top of his class.”

You raise your eyebrows.

Joel takes his hand off the back of the sofa and leans forward, forearms on his knees, full belly filling out the plaid against his lap as he wrings his hands. “Mama.” Joel’s tone is cautionary, but his face is more pleading. He shakes his head ever so slightly.

Ignoring him, she smiles proudly at you.

You try not to sound as skeptical as you are when you ask, “Really?”

She nods.

“Mama,” he whispers.

“Mm-hmm,” she smiles.

He sits up straight, wipes his hand down his whole face and sits back in defeat. His arm doesn't return behind you.

She continues, “There were a couple other boys, went in ‘round the same time – took’em three tries to get their GED. Three tries, at least. Not my Joel. He got his on the first try,” she beams. “The warden shook his hand.”

“Okay,” Joel mutters.

The Warden. Your heart skips a beat and your face goes cold, but you pray it doesn't show.

You turn and congratulate him, “That’s great, Joel.”

He doesn't meet your eyes. He’s looking at the carpet with a defeated scowl, jaw flexing, chest heaving, arms crossed limply over his stomach. He tries to manage a smile of acknowledgement. You can see the effort, but humiliation prevails.

You feel for him and add, “Really, babe.”

His face softens, but his posture doesn't change. After a moment, without looking up, he mumbles, “Long time ago.”

“Yeah,” his mother nods. “He's always been a smart boy.” She starts talking about his favorite subjects, and how he could have gotten his bachelor's too, three times over, if the program was worth a damn, and state funding, and blah blah blah, riots, and understaffing, and shanks hidden in law library books, and a few bad apples spoil it for everyone…

Your eyes are on him, tuning her out, best you can, despite your curiosity. You rest your hand on his knee, and he relaxes a little. And then, once your face turns toward his mom again, Joel looks at your face, assessing the damage.

You want to hear it all– how long he was locked up, how he ended up in juvie. You're afraid you already know that part.

Daniel purrs loudly from the crochet rug, and you will yourself not to look in that direction.

Joel's Mom looks at Daniel and gets quiet as her eyes wander up that wall that must've been painted over, God how many times in the past thirty years? She idly caresses her ring finger.

You squeeze Joel's knee, slide your hand up his jeans a couple inches, and squeeze again. You tap your thumb, and his hand joins yours.

“We oughta get goin’, Ma,” he announces.

“Oh,” she frowns, slumping in defeat.

“I'm workin’ tonight, and she's gotta work early.”

“Okay,” she whispers to herself, stands up, and smooths her dress.

—---

“It's nice to know there's a good woman looking after my son,” she says as she bids you goodbye with another hug.

Your heart swells at the praise, you can't help it. Her apparent sincerity weakens your eyes, makes you shake away your own memories and steel yourself as she says goodbye to Joel.

“Chin up, baby.” She holds Joel's face, makes him look at her. “Give your mama some sugar.” She gives him a smack on the lips. He doesn't kiss back, but he does accept her hug.

He pulls up his jeans on the way to the car. Almost forgets to open the door for you.

He doesn't look at you, even when he buckles you in, which you would have done yourself if you hadn’t froze.

He swallows more thickly. His posture is less proud.

For the first few minutes of the drive, you ride in silence. Then you ask, “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn't I be?” He grumbles.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You ask, tummy tickling with a pang of sympathy for the man.

“No,” he answers flatly with no hesitation.

“You don't have to,” you reassure him.

“I know I don't have to,” He snaps. “God, it's all anybody ever wants to talk about.”

You watch him scowl at the road, clenching his strong jaw. His gaze is so dark. His knuckles are white on the steering wheel. As if noticing this himself, he stretches one hand out, spreading his fingers before assuming a more relaxed grip.

You wonder… was he born a killer?

He's got this tough, violent shell about him, and now you know there's something else under there. Is he sorry he brought you to dinner, you wonder? You don't want him to be.

“Well, it was nice meeting your mom,” you remark. “Meatloaf was fantastic…. The pie, too.” You cradle the Tupperware stacked in your lap. “You wanna hang out for awhile?” you ask.

“Gotta work,” he answers flatly and swallows with his eyes still on the road.

“Well, that's too bad.” It really is. 'Cause you're not any less horny than he got you in your bathroom two hours ago. Wetter, if anything, you realize, and warmth blooms in your cheeks. Now the sun is going down. You reach back and put the Tupperware on the back seat, then shamelessly turn toward him. You lean your temple against the headrest and watch him drive.

He’s hard-working. Complicated. Private. And his mom’s right, he is successful, all things considered.

You wonder where his dad is buried. Whether he was handsome, like Joel. Maybe . But with or without him, Joel got those looks from Mama.

Joel glances over and shoots you a dark look. A warning.

“You don't gotta play nice,” he says.

“I'm not playing anything,” you protest.

He lets out a dismissive chuckle.

“Pull over,” you tell him.

“For what?” He asks.

His meaty thighs are spread, swelling in those tight jeans. He follows your eyes and squints at you, then slides his hand under his belly and adjusts his belt, annoyed.

“Just pull over Joel,” you repeat.

“Ain't in the mood for your games, sweetheart,” he says.

You open the glove box, then close it with the gun in your hand. You point it at him. “Pull over, god damn it,” you tell him.

He squints and looks at you up and down before dismissing you with a silent, condescending laugh.

Keeping the gun trained on him, your free hand unbuckles your seatbelt, then slides between your legs. You pull the skirt of the dress all the way up to expose your cunt.

“You serious?” He asks.

“Serious as a heart attack,” you confirm.

And that's not what killed his dad, you think.

It must've been messy.

He must've deserved it, by the looks of Joel's back. The way the moonlight skidded over his scars, that night in your bedroom.

Joel shakes his head, keeps driving, and you lift the gun to his temple. “Pull over right now,” you repeat, quieter.

“Jesus, FUCK,” he relents, neck vein bulging as he veers toward the shoulder.

It's close to dusk now, on a suburban road, and you're half way out of the seat before the car's in park.

Stretching your leg over the center console, you help yourself into his lap, straddling him, still holding the gun. With your free hand, you begin to unbutton his shirt.

For a moment, all he does is stare at you and breathe heavier. “You're fuckin’ with me,” he tells himself out loud, not wanting to fall for a joke. He has his elbows back and out of the way, one arm on the door, one on the center console, but he’s itching to have you. You can see it in the way his biceps twitch. His stomach rises and falls with heavier breaths under his white tee.

“I’m not,” you assure him.

He lets you pick up his hand, and you guide it between your legs so he can feel how wet you are.

His face darkens, and his hand reflexively grabs your cunt.

“Somethin’ wrong with you?” he asks.

“That’d make two of us,” you answer.

You glance at the gun to make sure the safety's still on, then point the barrel at his chest and reach down to grab the massive bulge in his jeans. The largest you could imagine, for a cock that’s not quite hard. And he chubs up quick under the lustful pressure of your palm.

“You're into this shit,” he says. “ Like some kinda kink.”

Ya think?, you manage not to say out loud.

But you get the subtext: He’s a real person... With a real big cock that swells harder in your palm as you massage him slow with your breasts heaving. He cups your bare ass cheeks. You slide your hand up the front of his jeans, and his hips lift under you, chasing your palm. The heel of your palm presses into his gut as you unbuckle his belt. You rest your wrist on the seat, gun pointed toward the back of the car as your hand continues its work between your bodies.

With his belt buckle out of the way, you grope at his cock through the denim again, then unzip his jeans and rest your hand on the curve of his belly, splaying your fingers out before sliding your hand down into his jeans. As your hand engulfs the mushroom shape of his cockhead, then his swollen shaft, you moan at the girth. “Yeah,” you breathe, “You gonna fuck me in your mother’s dress?” You end the question with a firm grab of his package, and he grunts, nearly breathless, then sighs as you palm his cock hungrily through the cotton of his boxer briefs.

“Looks really fuckin’ good on you,” he answers with a nod.

Blood’s still rushing to his cock, responding to its need to stiffen up and plug whatever gaping hole appears in front of it.

“Looks good on her too,” you note.

“Fuck,” he breathes under your slow but aggressive massage. His eyes pour over your chest and he says, “Looks better on you.” If he’s not lying–and it feels like he’s not–-it’s quite a fucking compliment. His shaft plumps with as much as blood as it can hold, stiff as a rod, fat and juicy, hard as hell, spilling precum in his boxers.

“Ohh, fuck,” he moans. His hips lift and his abs tense and his belly swells against your forearm.

You slide your hand up again, and under his waistband. You brace your wrist on his shoulder, pointing the gun toward his neck as your hand slides into his warm boxer briefs to feel the smooth skin of his aching manhood.

“You wanna put that down?” he asks.

“No,” You reply, unable to connect your thumb fingers around his girth.

“Man, when ya need it ya need it, huh?,” he murmurs, eyelids heavy. “Need this cock real bad, don’t ya? ”

“Yeah,” you answer.

“Need to pack that droolin’ gash,” he says. “ Pack it full. ”

“Yeah,” you nod and raise yourself a few inches. You get his tip at your entrance, then slide it through your dripping pussy.

"Oh, fuck,” he moans, “God damn sex kitten.. . FUCK, youre hot”

He breathes audibly, watching you with forced patience as you notch his broad tip at your hole. You start to sink down on him with some difficulty, face scrunching, biting your lip in frustration, eyes watering with need.

“What's the matter, sweetheart? Forget how to take a cock all the sudden?”

You lift yourself up and sink down a little more, swallowing the tip.

“Oh fuck,” he moans. He puts his hands on your hips and pulls you down with an upward thrust, spearing you on his monster girth.

“Yeah…oh, fuck,” he breathes, not quite bottomed out. “Ugghh,” he groans, pulling you down more with an upward thrust to the hilt, fully seated in you at last.

“God, you're filthy.” He wets his bottom lip, admiring what a mess you’ve become in his lap. “Hot little slut like you…. Oh, you're trouble,” he says.

You begin to lift yourself, letting most of his meat out of you, tip dragging thick and tight through your walls, your slick beading under the crown and sliding down his shaft. Then you sink back down, splitting yourself open on his girth with a sigh.

The sky has erupted into shades of pink and purple as it begins to sink past the horizon.

Electricity runs through your blood. Your skin hums. His neck glistens with goosebumps and the hues of his shirt look brighter in the almost-dark.

He grabs your hips as you ride him, then moves his big hands to your waist. Each time you slide up his cock, it’s easier to sink back down. Your body’s hungry for more each time. You can feel it pulsing wider around him, welcoming his girth, hungry for more.

“Yeah,” he encourages you as you find a rhythm. “Like that.”

You seize one of his wrists to move his hand to your neck.

“You're a real freak, baby,” he taunts you, brushing his thumb against the delicate skin of your neck before carefully positioning it and raising his eyebrows at you. He closes his eyes as you sink down on him again and his girth slides easily through your soft walls. When he opens his eyes, his massive hand gives your neck a little squeeze, and you moan in appreciation.

“Guess it takes a freak to fuck a guy like you,” you spit back.

He scowls, and his nose twitches.

You go on, “Mighta picked the only freak in town who’d fuck you by choice,” you tell him. “Lucky call,” you say. “Lucky you have such a fat fucking cock,” you taunt him and study his face, hopeful for a sign that he could snap. “What else do you have?” You ask, and it feels almost too cruel. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s a lot to have… fuck,” you breathe. “Mmm,” fully stuffed by his girth.

“Quit runnin’ your damn mouth,” he snaps and grabs the gun by both ends at once, smoothly disarming you with an effortless twist of his hands. He places the barrel against the hollow of your neck and asks, Is “That what ya want, ya dumb slut? Tryna get yourself killed?”

You freeze, half-way on his cock, getting lost in his eyes.

“Well God damn, if you're gonna ride it, ride it. I'm gonna lose my goddamn patience” he warns.

When you don’t sink down fast enough, he gets rougher, putting you in a bruising grip, one arm wrapped around you, tightening like an anaconda.

He fucks up into you from the bottom, both arms behind you, with the gun held vaguely to your neck.

“Yeah,” you moan.

He growls, pushes his back against the seat, and his stomach pushes against your front, pushes and rubs as he fucks you harder, rocking the car.

The windows fog up.

He unzips the back of the dress and tears it down to reveal your breasts.

He watches them move as you’re bounced on his thick manhood. He snarls and grunts like an animal possessing his prey.

“I see you,” you whisper, intoxicated by the rhythmic stroke of him up in your guts.

“Fuck you,” he rasps.

“Fuck me ,” you retort, “Fuck me,” you repeat, “Fuck me, killer,” your cunt spasms with the word.

“Knew what I was, don’t act fuckin’ surprised.”

"Fuck," you moan, swallowing up his cock. “I'm -mmm- m’not,” you say. “I'm turned on.”

“You’re sick,” he says, burying his cock in you fully, once again.

Your nipples harden, you moan, and he looks at you skeptically, even as he feels your walls twitch around his absurd girth.

“Know that pussy's hungry for something bigger,” he says.

“Like what?” you ask and feel the gun leave your neck.

“Get up.” He checks the safety.

When you rise up, he holds the gun near his dick, making the barrel of it look like a twig.

“Best I got here,” he says with your gummy walls clinging to his shaft as you let out all but the tip.

“Think she can take it?” he asks. “Shit, we know she can.”

You lift all the way up onto your knees, letting his cock fall out. It bounces, bringing a string of slick with it, and stands stiff at attention.

He works three fingers into you with ease.

“Gimme your hand,” you ask.

“Hand's fuckin’ busy,” he says, referring to the one holding the gun.

“No, gimme your whole hand,” you demand greedily, and grab his wrist with his fingers still buried in your cunt.

“Attagirl,” he says, then works a fourth finger into you. “Best I can do here, sweetheart,” he winces as he fucks you with four clustered fingers.

“Fuck this,” he decides, unable to stand his throbbing cock growing ever colder outside your cunt.

He positions you over his dick and the gun, uses his fingers to spread your pussy around both, then pulls you down.

“Uh–ughh,” your mouth is agape as you sink down the shaft and barrel, taking them both.

You’re a quivering mess.

He holds the handle steady and says, “Good girl.”

You don't go all the way down. The cool barrel slides against one side of your walls.

“God damn, this hungry pussy,” he pants, cock stiff against the gun. “God damn, i know she can take more,” he says, frustrated without much more to give you.

“How do you know?” you ask

“Cause I've seen ya gapin’ wide open, sweetheart.”

You moan at his words, pussy quivering around his cock and gun.

“Wide fuckin’ open,” he repeats. “Ya take my fist… take two dicks…fuck ,” he twitches inside you. “ Took my goddamn wrench…. greedy fuckin’ cunt,” he goes on.

Then you're seized by a swell in your lower belly…. The pressure that’s been simmering quickly boils over, and you whimper as you come on his cock and the gun.

“Yeah,” he pants as your walls flutter and your thighs quiver.

He lifts you up with one arm, and takes out the gun, putting it aside. Then he slams you all the way down on his cock. “Oh god, yeah,” he pants, “Freak nasty whore ”

You moan and let it ride, clenching around his cock, your walls hugging it tighter each time, with the girth of the gun no longer holding you open.

Your climax wanes and your legs are weak. “Oh fuck,” he pants, “Gonna fill this dirty snatch,” He sweats and grunts. “Gonna stuff her with my load,” he warns, “Bout to fill this gash right up .”

“Fuck,” he breathes heavier and grunts with each thrust up into you, then slams you down, and with an upward jolt of his hips begins to drain his massive balls. “Fuck,” he sighs as he comes inside. “Fuck, you're crazy,” he says with another rope, warm and sticky, hitting your womb.

“Tryna get knocked up by some psycho killer ya picked up on the side of the road,” he says. “ Fuck, you goddamn freak .”

Still milking his cock, something possesses you to cradle his face as he slows down. Another burst of warmth in your core, as your face approaches his. He starts to turn his cheek, but your hands become forceful. “C’mere, asshole,” you demand, grinding into him with his cock pulsing deep inside again. His neck begins to relax, and he sighs with his eyes closed. You hold his face steady and bring your face to his. When your lips meet his are limp and open.

Another warm spurt into your womb, and when you moan against his mouth, he moans back. His lips soften, then cradle yours. Your tongue slips into your mouth, and his pushes into yours. He grabs the back of your head, pulling you into his face as he kisses you, releasing a final burst of hot seed. “Mm,” he grunts into your mouth, hands holding each other’s faces. Glued together, consuming each other in the dark. The passion simmers to something gentler as your loins twitch with aftershocks, becoming over-sensitive.

You break away to breathe, gasping for humid air in the fogged-up car.

He pants, looks up at the ceiling. His neck vein pulses. His skin is clammy looking, dewy with cold sweat,

“Fuck,” sighs, his chest heaving, “Still got your goddamn tits out.” He admires them, then feeds himself one. He tongues your nipple, and when your cunt squeezes him, he winces, letting it out of his mouth.

A tractor trailer whizzes by, shaking the whole car.

“Alright,” he says, and nudges you off his lap. “Now pull yourself together.”

He takes the gun, wet with your juices, puts it on the dashboard near him. He looks over at you skeptically when you've climbed back over the center console into your seat.

“You better stuff that dress between your legs,” he warns. “Don’t want ya leakin’ all over the goddamn place.”

THANK YOU FOR READING.

Believe it or not, I cut two scenes from this lol so I might put them in a little bonus visit between Joel and his mom soon.

Look, this took me a year and I feel like I've finally done my mental vision justice lol. So, please interact 🧎‍♀️🥺🖤

anon is fine if you're shy!

#dark!joel miller #slasher!joel #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #toxicanonymity ☠️#slasher!joel miller #cw dubcon

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thiefcatmoth · 5 months ago

Text

pac: how do people around you see you?

general reading. pick a pile, listening to your intuition. if nothing resonates, leave this pac behind.

pile 1

soft and sharp, warm and cold, changeable, but combining opposites so harmoniously. you have the ability to hide secrets inside and surprise others with little unusual bits of your personality. you have an inner stability, the ability to accept the twists of fate and use them to your advantage. people think that in feelings you give yourself to the bottom, both good and bad. some people find you too authoritarian, but you have a natural ability to make (or advise) others to do what you need or want. despite the general impression, some see your fragile spiritual core, and some may even say that you give them your light. even if you do not plan to illuminate someone's life, it happens on its own. many people do not strive to see beyond the facade that you have erected and may not realize that you can hide wisdom, knowledge, depth of words behind jokes and light-mindedness, a mask that you deliberately put up for others.

pile 2

others see you as a loyal, hardworking person, although not without a hint of something… gloomy? not hostility, but something dark or gloomy. you work even when obstacles arise, your persistence is admired by others, maybe even became an example or a source of inspiration for someone. at the same time, a special feminine energy emanates from you - cool, fresh, even a little youthful. energy that attracts, like a flower in the morning dew, but not everyone likes it. in general, you give the impression of someone who is difficult to gain trust, you don't let everyone in your inner circle, some think that you are too difficult to find the keys to. I think they just do not realize that you choose people based on your emotions and your inner circle is so important to you in order to develop, learn and work on yourself.

pile 3

some people think that you are capable of doing anything with your own hands. every little bit of what you do - art, handmade, cooking, whatever - has a special uniqueness, everything is a meaningful masterpiece. people see great wisdom in you, even when your words are not liked or seem poisonous. in addition, you know how to use all your knowledge for good. some people think that you are overprotective? the energy of excessive care, maybe even an attempt to prove that your views on everyday life and the material world are the most correct. someone may think that you were greatly influenced by your ancestors, and that is why your advice, even when you talk about something modern, can be perceived as outdated, similar to ancient wisdom. they are never devoid of meaning. few will be able to understand that helping others and caring that you do is not your favorite thing or a way to show yourself. these are just intuitive actions.

pile 4

the energy of an intelligent but closed person. clearly with a mind of your own, with clear internal and external boundaries. do you like black humor or sarcasm? or maybe there are notes of healthy cynicism in you? people sense that there is a storm of energy hidden inside you, it seems to them that your inner strength and impulses are more than enough for your desires and goals. for the sake of your goals, you can be assertive, choose smart paths and apply your efforts correctly. but others think that you are too free with your time, as if you own it. and some catch too many flirting signals. there is something in your behavior that reminds them of a socialite. to someone you may even seem frivolous in those moments when you deviate from your mask and image. someone notices that you often change your habits, style, lifestyle, and not everyone will understand that this is not a burden, not forced. you are able to adapt to any physical changes, from food and apartment to clothes, workouts and weight. it's like you are changing subtly every day. just don't pay attention if someone ignorantly considers it insignificant.

thanks for the reading!

dividers by @strangergraphics-archive, all images are not mine

#free tarot #tarot #tarot reading #tarotblr #pick a card #pick a picture #pick an image #pick a pile

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crush-itis · 2 months ago

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HALLOOOO GURRRLL !! HOWW ARE YOUU ?? I'M HEREEE TO REQUEST !! AND IT'S BEEN STUCK IN MY HEAD FOR A WHILE ! (⁠☆⁠▽⁠☆⁠)

SOOO i saw a lot of lilia x human!reader but not lilia x fae!reader(i saw a few of them) SO! Lilia and reader have been married ever since lilia was a general! they have been taking care of the boys together ever since the boys were little (Silver, malleus and sebak) Silver see reader as his mother and malleus kinda see reader the same way like silver (?), and sebak respect her just like lilia! Soo the story is the reader secretly visit the boys and snuck in the diasomnia like it's been years they haven't seen each other but still keep in contact by latters~! And when the boys find out about this, lilia was excited to see her only for reader to have all her attention to the boys(her children-) and babying them instead of him! and only got scolded by the reader(she's a bossy wife) for giving her children his homemade foods all this years(silver complain about it to reader) and his kinda sulking about it and being dramatic a little

Sorry for my bad English since it's not my first language and I also hopee my request isn't too much !! (⁠｡⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠)

ㆍ 𓎟𓎟 ⑅ ⠀FAMILY REUNION !

tags ⠀short, fluffy + few suggestive themes, fae!reader

w.c ⠀1031

a/n ⠀thank youu for the ask!! im so sorry if i didnt make the characters act accurately (idk how to write a happy family) but also im doing okayyy, thank you ^ - ^ 🤍

songs coming home, flaming hot cheetos, puppy love, melting

Browning love letters, stamped with outdated, faerie imperial insignias, they crumple, and collect dust from the top shelf they’re stacked in.

You traced a finger against a special love letter from Lilia, brushing your fingertips against the cursive letters, and the wacky doodled picture of you.

You had been resting in the drawing room on the left wing of your hearty mansion.

Your servant had prepared an ornate, gold tray filled with the love letters exchanged with your beloved.

You usually reread your favourites in your free time.

It was something to remember Lilia for.

Although the two of you were still married, and still very much in love, the distance between you two made it harder for you to cope in your stuffy, lonely, and cold manor.

You couldn’t even call it your home anymore ever since Lilia had left.

“Lilia” was what you truly considered your home.

Perhaps it was time to finally visit him for all these years.

With your engagement ring strapped snugly around your finger, you swooped into your carriage, dolled up, gown and all.

The carriage rattled off to your destination: Night Raven College.

It was one… odd school.

When you stepped inside, your heels clacking against the hardened gravel, you felt the eyes of young students pour on you.

It was an academy full of eccentric pupils…

They must be wondering who you were.

Silver had fallen asleep (again) on school grounds.

Specifically, the green fields just next to Diasomina.

His head rested on the hard, jagged planes of tree bark, and the fluffy, tallish grass he laid on served as a comforting blanket, and mattress.

A bit of sunlight feathered on his sleeping face, slumbering away under the shade with no care for his stacking homework.

He’ll get it done in a jiffy anyway.

With Silver still asleep, you spotted your once baby boy lying comfortably on a bed of grass.

Silver felt a tickle on his side.

His brows knitted close together, and in the middle of his dreams drew away.

He stirred awake, and found himself gasping at the appearance of his mother.

“Boo!” you chuckled, and booped his nose.

“Mother?” Silver let out a shaky breath.

“Shh! We have to surprise your father.” you hushed his mouth before gently grabbing his arm, standing him up.

You removed the leaves caught on his silver-chrome hair, grinning at the timid youngster.

You also couldn’t help but squish, and squeeze his cheeks, cooing at his now grown face.

“You look just like a flower!” You were still babying Silver in his big age.

Silver blushed, abashed by your antics.

He was definitely not expecting your sudden visit.

It felt like Mother’s Day.

Silver led you to the dormitory—the glum, dark shades a stark contrast between your bright, sunny smile.

It took a lot of convincing for you to finally get Silver to help you sneak into Diasomnia.

It was your first time here, and you were getting so much attention again.

You didn’t mind the sea of eyes on you, but you most definitely minded the retchy smell stuffing the halls.

You did not see a female in sight.

There were only male students walking about in sweaty uniforms.

They all caught an unpleasant aroma.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, reaching a gloved hand to cover your nose.

It was a great thing Lilia had taught Silver proper hygiene.

Still walking away, you began to hear the footsteps of a peculiar young man.

Silver also heard a loud, screechy voice along with it.

A snarky silhouette followed, and there goes the familiar, bright green hair.

“Sil-“ the loud, beaming voice suddenly lowered as his eyes turned to the lady next to Silver.

His eyes widened, and his mouth gaped wide open. “Lady Vanrouge!” He squeaked.

“Sebek,” you smiled softly at the boy. He was still the same after all those years.

He always stuck close with Silver, and your husband, Lilia. You remember him being one of Lilia’s pupils.

“How old are you now?” you chuckled, ruffling Sebek’s hair.

“I am sixteen now, and I have grown into a respectable gentleman!” He still had that loud, prideful voice.

You smiled at that, nodding. “That’s amazing!” you applauded him.

“But may I ask, what are you doing here, miss?” Sebek blinked, and Silver hummed in curiosity as well.

“Well, I missed you guys, silly! And of course his father too.” you reached to playfully pinch Silver’s nose, making him squeal.

“Ah, yes. I still remember your wedding.” Sebek nodded vigorously. He respected you just as much as he respected Lilia.

Sebek’s heart hammered away in his chest from happiness.

With the trio now off to surprise Lilia, they found Malleus along the way.

His nose was stuck between the pages of a non fiction.

“Your Highness,” you poked Malleus’ side. He shivered, his attention quickly steering away from his book.

He was still ticklish as ever.

“Y/N?” He blinked.

He was more confused than shocked.

It was adorable.

You pinched his nose.

With the whole group now, they finally arrived at Lilia's door.

Malleus knocked, waiting for a pair of scarlet red eyes to peek behind the door.

The door creaked open,

“Boo!” You twinkled your hands for a crazier effect.

Lilia was just as surprised as the boys were.

Even more when you decided to spend more time with the kids rather than him.

Lilia pawed at your waist, trying to grab your attention like a flimsy, irritating bat going through its breeding season.

The whole family hung around in Lilia’s dorm, skipping class as they watched a comedy.

It was the only time the students relented in attending classes.

The sun began to lower, and the stars began to shimmer, the kids had gone back to their dorms, leaving just the couple alone.

It felt like the two of you were back in your teen years.

Lilia nipped at your ear, whispering sweet nothings.

He bit his lip, yearning for you.

You felt the warmth radiating from his body, and you couldn’t help but giggle sheepishly.

With his hand now snaking for your hip, pulling you closer, Lilia reached to suckle on your throat.

#twst lilia x reader #twst lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland lilia #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader #fem reader #fae reader #twst fluff #suggestive #i love you #yehe

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saminsecret · 7 months ago

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How the slashers would react to a male s/o part 2

tw for homophobia/outdated views

Sorry it’s been like two three years I’ve been obsessed with Sam Winchester (still am) but i still love my slasher roots

Characters include Thomas Hewitt (TCM remake), Billy Loomis (Scream), and Yaujta (Predator)

Thomas Hewitt (TCM Remake):

He'd be confused and ashamed. Thomas was born in 1939, so most of his values are very homophobic christian-like. Not that he himself really understand homophobia, he was just raised that way. So when he found himself daydreaming thinking of you in a more romantic tone, he definitely felt a huge blow to his self-esteem. What would his family think? He'd become more reclusive and basically shut himself in the basement. He'd also definitely avoid you and his family.

Luda Mae would have to get involved. Now what did Thomas think was going to happen? Hell hath no fury like a concerned mother. "Tommy sweetheart, tell Momma what's wrong!" After some more pleading and guilt tripping, Thomas would be all but butter in Luda Mae's hand. He'd communicate to her about his feelings towards the cute boy (you) down at the gas station, all while looking like a kicked puppy. Luda Mae would feel very mixed emotions. On one hand, Thomas likes someone!! On the other hand, that someone is you...a man. She'd be very conflicted, to say the least.

Luda Mae would set you two up. After thinking about it, Luda Mae puts Thomas' happiness over any bigoted beliefs she has. She loves Thomas too much to stop him from finding someone. She would console Tommy and let him dwell in the basement while she tries to think up a plan on how to push you and Thomas together. Cue her not-so-subtly asking you some suspicious innocent questions while you stock the gas station. "Oh Y/N, how tall do ya' like your man to be? You like men, right? Oh darlin', I won't judge your homosexualness! What about men with long hair? What about-" After some mildly offensive and invasive questions she finally decides you two are a match! She invites you to stay at the Hewitt residence for a little while and finds little things to keep you closer to him. Taking his tray downstairs, helping him with heavy lifting, just harmless things that you guys can bond over. Thomas of course is both extremely delighted and extremely embarrassed. He frequently drops things on himself or is falling over his feet, embarrassing him even more. Poor Tommy! But eventually...

He can't stop being around you! He loves you so much Y/N! He can't stop thinking of you; he's just so smitten! When he has a break, he likes to hold hands or cuddle while you read to him! And don't worry about Hoyt or Monty, they can kiss Thomas' ass! (Or his chainsaw/Luda Mae's various kitchen cutlery, if they go too far). Expect small gifts like crushed flowers or little bits of jewelries he found on some of the victims. He also loves it when you wear his clothes, although he is a big boy compared to anybody so you might not fit into everything. If your strong enough, he'll let you hold his chainsaw :D

Billy Loomis (Scream):

He'd have mixed feelings. Billy (as well as Stu) were probably closeted bisexual's. Billy would be more self-depricating with his sexuality because of his father and the general time period.

He’d bully you. How else is he supposed to deal with his homoerotic feelings towards you? Walking down the hallway you’ll hear a snide remark from Billy (and Stu) about how ‘gay’ you are— what a bunch of dicks!

But eventually… he’d have to have you. He’s obsessed with you, and now that Sidney’s dead he can turn you into his new obsession. He follows you to your classes, teasing you and ‘accidentally’ bumping into you to make you trip. Don’t worry Y/N, it’s not like it can get any worse.

Except now he’s at your window. Tapping on the glass, beckoning for you to let him in. He wants to apologize for all the teasing! Well, at least that’s what he says, but the moment you open the window he pounces on you, knife to your throat. He’s demanding you be his boyfriend! Well…

Now you watch horror movies every night with Billy and Stu. Billy always has an arm wrapped around you, and about a million polaroids stashed away of you sleeping. Enjoy your stalker boyfriend, Y/N!

Male Yautja (Predator):

"I do not care about 'ooman gender, my ooman." Seriously though, you two are completely different species already so it really doesn't matter that you're a guy. You will undoubtably be hated on by other Yautja, but not because you are a male mated to another male but for being a human mated to a Yautja.

He doesn't care about procreation, if that's what you're worried about. Humans and Yautja cannot create offspring, so he knew from the get-go of mating with you that kids would be out of the picture. So being a male doesn't really hinder him. He also doesn't care about whatever concerns the other Yautja have to say about your relationship, he'll fight to the death for you. And god forbid if a human tried to discriminate against you. Hey Y/N, how do you feel about human skulls as décor?

He'd make you more confident. Y/N, you have done the impossible ; courting a Yautja! This should be an immediate confidence booster as your mate has chosen to be with you, a human, rather than further his own species! How'd you do it Y/N?

He'd decorate your house with trophies. Invest in alot of shelves. Yautja live for the Hunt, so expect nothing less from your mate. He'd bring home a variety of trophies ranging from earth animals to things you're sure no human has ever seen before. Your mate is a worthy male, Y/N, and he makes sure to show you through all his various feats! And because you are his mate, he declares that all hunts are dedicated to you. How sweet!

#slashers #slashers x reader #slasher x male reader #slasher fucker #billy loomis #thomas hewitt #yautja #predator #scream #texas chainsaw massacre #billy loomis x reader #thomas hewitt x reader #yaujta x reader #predator x reader #slasher x reader

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maruflix · 10 months ago

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FIVE STAGES OF LOVE #oneshot #hoshinasoshiro #f!reader

You weren’t supposed to find out... but you did, and Hoshina Soshiro had no choice. Surely you’ll understand, right?

feat. hoshina soshiro　　⎯⎯　wc. 1.8k

content: female reader, reader is an officer in the third division, yandere themes, obsessive behavior, suggestive at the end, babytrapping, hoshina soshiro is a scary yandere, i do not condone yanderes irl, no beta we die like kaiju number twelve

art cred. suou2280 (twitter)

“Vice Captain, can you stop being so kind to me?”

Stunned, Soshiro looks up to find you standing nervously. He eyes the training field— everyone is either chatting amongst themselves or walking back to get dinner. His gaze shifts back to your trembling figure.

You probably said those words as a joke. But what if you really took notice of his affection towards you? Soshiro tries to keep his expression calm although his stomach is slowly starting to turn, He tried so hard not to let them show.

“I mean no disrespect, it’s just that... I fear I’m going to get the wrong idea.”

Your shy expression makes his head spin. “Yer’ not wrong,” Soshiro probes your reaction, standing up to gently scoop your hands when you blush. “I like ya’ a lot.”

He’s unsure how you will react. For a split second, the only thing he can hear is the own thundering of his heart. Then, you gasp and look up at him with eyes wide open, also catching him off guard.

“R-really?! Me too! I like you... too...” After bursting out those words, your cheeks turn red and your head drops to the ground.

No longer trusting his mouth to say the right words, Soshiro lets his body to do the talking, moving forward to pull you into an embrace. You giggle, and at that moment he knows—

There’s no way in hell he’s ever letting you go, so help him God.

STAGE I: INFATUATION

Soshiro is a hardworking man.

Born into a distinguished clan that left him with a legacy many claim as outdated and archaic, Soshiro has never stopped running. Everyone thought he couldn’t do it, so he proved them wrong. He surpassed Japan’s so-called ‘strongest anti-kaiju combatant’ and everyone has no choice but to acknowledge his abilities, granting him honor, wealth, and the position of Vice Captain of the Third Division.

In his division alone, Soshiro has seen many talented officers, but not many people can rival him in endurance. So when you enter his line of vision, he grows curious. You’ve always been working harder than the others, training for a bit longer, so eager to do your job well.

Soshiro admires your dedication, drunk on the way you hang on his every command while you study his movements with those beautiful eyes. Soon, he can’t help but to search for your face in every crowd, half hoping you’d notice him staring.

He knows he’s falling. It’s not a bad thing, he thinks, to fall for someone who shines as bright as the sun.

Unfortunately, he’s not the only one struck by your charm. He’s aware of the stares you get from male officers, their pathetic excuses to start conversation with you, how your name always pops up in their gossip. He took care of the impudent ones.

Slowly, carefully, he handpicks the people in your platoon, making sure to surround you with polite, respectful officers, mostly other ladies— because why would you ever need other men when you have him?

STAGE II: INTENSIFICATION

Soshiro is a wonderful boyfriend. It’s no secret that he’s a reliable vice captain, beloved by his division, but somehow he’s even more attentive with you.

When Kafka accidentally injured you during training, Soshiro immediately drops everything to rush towards you, making sure you’re okay—and you are, just a few bruises and a gash—before lifting you up and carrying you to the infirmary, dressing your wound himself.

Kafka returns late that night, telling you that he received punishment for the small incident with you earlier. You’re a bit worried for him but he waves it off, laughing as he limps to his quarters.

You sigh, Soshiro can be such a worrywart.

Then a new recruit enters. Quickly, he’s enamored by you. Pretty senior, he’d always call you. Everyone mocks him and tells him there’s no way he can compete with your lover who just so happens to be their division’s vice captain, but he just laughs and tells them it’s a platonic kind of love.

He’s a good friend; it’s flattering to have a younger brother who always sticks so close to you, showering you with praises. Of course, you kept your distance. You don’t want to give the sweet man false hopes and you’re too in love with Soshiro to ever look at someone else.

You never noticed the weight of Soshiro’s gaze as it falls on the two of you.

STAGE III: OBSESSION

Your world crashed down when Reno breaks the news to you— a death in the third division. You knew what you were signing up for when you entered the force, but nothing could prepare you for the loss of a good friend.

Your platoon surrounds you, patting you on the back as you mutely stare at him on the hospital bed— the pale lips that would call you pretty senior no more.

After you return to the base, Soshiro quickly finds you. He takes you into his arms as you cry in his embrace.

“How did this happen?” You gasp in between sobs, “How..?”

The new recruits weren’t supposed to be in the area he was found in. It was supposed to be closed off, only for the more-skilled officers to enter because it was swarming with kaiju. Not a single person in the platoon knows how the heck he got himself there, with no one to accompany him.

Soshiro rubs your back comfortingly, humming. “’s an unfortunate accident. A miscommunication, perhaps? He heard the area code wrong and-”

“But that’s impossible!” You sob harder, resting your head against Soshiro’s chest in an attempt to calm yourself down. “Someone suspects he got a private comm from someone to go to that area, it’s just so weird...”

“Well,” Soshiro sighs, “it is a battlefield after all. Accidents are bound to happen. You hafta’ know that as unfortunate as it is, things can quickly get out of control.”

Your blood runs cold at his distant tone. Hiccups paused, you slowly look up at him.

Soshiro tilts his head, then he smiles. Dazzlingly.

You pretend your knees do not tremble— because no matter how hard Soshiro tries to act dumb, you know he’s always the one in control.

STAGE IV: DESTRUCTION

Soshiro knows he doesn’t love in halves— it isn’t in his nature.

He does things earnestly, polishing all of his talents until they gleam and sparkle. He knows what he likes and what he dislikes— there’s no grey area when it comes to his feelings.

Soshiro loves you in extremes, but there’s a catch to that. His love is great, but his jealousy is even greater— it writhes like a great serpent, eager to be lashed out. He tries to hide his ugly sides from you, but everything always spirals out of control and he ends up with more blood on his hands.

It’s your fault— why did you have to be so perfect?

Soshiro wants to hide you away from the rest of the world, but he has his darned duties and responsibilities. Only in the darkness of your room can he fully show you how much he loves you, ravishing you until his name is the only thing that comes out of your mouth. It becomes a routine. But it’s not nearly enough.

Even now, as you caress his hair, sweat still glistening on your forehead, Soshiro still misses you. He wishes he can press himself closer to you, to feel you more, to become one with you.

“Soshiro, can I ask you something?”

You retract your hands from his hair and Soshiro fights the urge to sigh in disappointment. He gazes at you but you don’t meet his eyes, so he settles on kissing your forehead.

“Anythin.”

“Did you have something to do with Izumo’s recent transfer?”

His eyes narrowed. Well, duh. Of course he did.

The transfer was him being kind. If he had it his way, he would raze the Izumo Family to the ground along with their darned greenhead scion who dares to look at his girlfriend with lovesick eyes.

“I approved the request, yes.”

He dances along the edges of the truth, but you are having none of it.

“No, Soshiro. Tell me the truth.”

The defiance in your eyes awoke a fire in him.

“What do you want me to say, darlin’?” Soshiro challenges you, his voice soft but spiked with venom.

You shiver at the feeling of his fingers threading through your hair. “I want the truth, Soshiro.”

Your lover merely smiles at you. Innocent, taunting, daring you to find fault within him. Soshiro knows he’s a very careful man, he hides his true nature well— but you were no fool.

“Forget it. Let’s take a break.” You give in, rolling on your back to distance yourself from the violet-haired man. It breaks your heart to say it, but you were starting to feel suffocated with all his secrets.

There’s a sudden shift in the atmosphere as Soshiro—your gentle, loving Soshiro—grips your arm hard and gazes at you with an expression you’ve never seen before.

STAGE V: R̵̪̾Ȅ̷̥̟̠͚̀͑͊̋͛̈́̓S̸͎̺̺̍̃̌̇̌̈́͘O̴̧̮͍͉̻͛͌̔ͅL̵̪̖̬̖̘̬͇̄̾́́̄Ù̶̻͙̏͆̋̉̉͝T̴̹̹̤̣͇̙̬͕̉̀͑̿͛̇͘I̵̻̥̫̜͖̲̓̍̐̑͗͊O̷̢̩̮͍͉̍͒͛̇̑̓̾̚Ṅ̸̡̢̻͉͂̋͑̔̓

“A break?” Soshiro’s voice trembles with anger. In one swift motion, he’s on top of you, pinning your hands above your head. “Yer kiddin’, right? And if I say I had somethin’ to do with it? What then?”

You look in horror as Soshiro’s expression changes several times in the span of a few minutes. He’s losing it, you can tell, and it’s all because you pushed him.

“I just hate it when a buncha’ nobodies stare at what’s mine. I tried to be patient, I really did,” he shakes his head mournfully, “but they never learn.”

“And what? You transferred them? Fired them? K-” the word kill lodges itself on your throat as your eyes burn with tears.

Soshiro stares at you blankly. “’m just lookin’ after what’s mine. Yer’ gonna leave me for that? Hardly seems fair.” his one-hand grip on your wrists doesn’t loosen even after a few tears escape your eyes.

Suddenly he pauses, like he’s recalling an important information. There’s something in his gaze when he looks down at you— something feral.

“Y’know,” Soshiro muses, “the seat of the next clan head is promised to whoever gets married first between my brother and I.” He runs his free hand down your body, stopping to gently rub circles on your lower stomach.

“I never really cared much about that crap, but I can’t have ya’ running away from me,” the hand that is previously rubbing your stomach now moves down to spread your thighs apart. “if I get you pregnant with my child, there’s no way yer’ gonna leave me, right?”

He words it like a threat, yet it makes you shiver in anticipation. You want to push him away, but every fibre of your body is screaming for him to continue— perhaps you’ve also fallen into the depravity of his love.

He slips a hand inside your underwear and you relinquish control, letting the pleasure cloud your brain. Your mewls only fuels Soshiro’s fire, his own breaths getting heavy as he trails soft kisses down your neck.

“No objections? Good,” Soshiro leans back and chuckles at the sight of you, so pliant under his touch, “then it seems the Hoshina clan will welcome their new madam very soon.”

#maru writes...#kaiju no. 8 #kn8 #kaiju no. 8 x reader #kn8 x reader #kaiju no. 8 fluff #kn8 fluff #kn8 hoshina #hoshina soshiro #soshiro hoshina #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader

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zorostitties · 4 months ago

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Aurora, 3 (m)

⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.

rating: 18+

word count: 6k

A/N: Happy one week anniversary to this fic!!! Three chapters in seven days??? I don't write this much or this fast since I was like 15. Oh God. Hyperfixation go BOOM Thank you everybody that left comments last chapter!! Reading them makes my day!! Without further ado, let's hear Alucards thoughts. Enjoy! <3

⤕ Masterlist ⤕ Also on AO3 ⤕ Playlist

The fast passage of time never failed to surprise Alucard.

The way the pages of his favorite books would get yellowed and frail without him noticing. How stone pavement would get slippery, worn out, after years of feet walking on it. How quickly a small village with only a few families could turn into a city bubbling with thousands of lives. How a small seedling would turn into a tall apple tree laden with fruit before he could take notice of it. The way fashion changed rapidly; how his clothes would get outdated and he’d be forced to acquire new ones in order to fit better into society.

How fast humans aged.

He didn’t like to ponder too much into it. Not anymore. It always made old scars ache again. However, as he looked at Juste Belmont, he couldn’t stop himself.

A part of his brain still expected to see a skinny and clumsy boy when Richter mentioned Juste. After all, that was his last memory of the Belmont, although he knew it was impossible. And yet… when Alucard laid eyes on the man, he couldn’t help but be shocked. He knew he’d see an adult, yes… not an elderly man with white hair, beard and deep wrinkles, a man that looked older than him (even though he was in much better form than the average human his age).

How many years had it been since Alucard last saw Juste...? It was around the time his grandfather passed, if he wasn’t mistaken. Was it around 50 years ago, perhaps?

Hell. Only 50 years had passed, and Juste already looked like a raisin.

Half of him knew that was part of the beauty of human existence: its fleetingness. Every human had a clear and direct story: beginning, middle, end. Their will to build, transform, adapt, improve and sometimes destroy, despite the little time they had on Earth. That was why human society changed so much in all those years. They had limited time: they were in a hurry to do everything they could with what they got – and that’s why Alucard admired mankind so much. Despite their immortality, vampires didn’t seem as willing to make significant changes, always choosing complacency or destruction instead.

The other half of him – the half where his deepest scars where hidden – hated this fact about humans. Even felt bitter of them, although he wouldn’t admit it out loud. Humans came and went before he could notice. They marked his life and left him alone before he could even prepare himself.

Alucard inherited the human heart that an immortal shouldn’t have. That was one of the small curses he carried for being who he was.

“Why don’t I come to Paris with you?” Juste argued with Richter, which honestly humored Alucard a bit. The younger man was acting as the adult, coming with up with rational reasons, while the elder was eager to join the fight with them. There it was… humans’ will to do something despite everything.

The white-haired vampire watched the scene in silence, sitting on a tree trunk with Annette by his side. The morning fog over the lake and around the clearing made him keep his guard up despite his relaxed demeanor, as it could hide spies easily; in fact, he was almost sure there was someone out there, but he couldn’t tell exactly where. The smell of burnt wood, ashes and vampire corpses was disorienting.

“Are all Belmonts like this?” Annette wondered out loud with a quirked eyebrow.

“Irritating? Oh, yes.” Alucard knew that it was a genetic trait inherited by every Belmont (other than their clear blue eyes). “To be honest, it’s been years since I’ve had much to do with them.” He admitted. Even so, it seemed that things hadn’t changed much in this aspect. “But if I can’t stop Erzsebet, I’ll need a Belmont to finish the job. Or a revolutionary witch, of course.” Annette opened a small, bashful smile at his last sentence.

Richter started to list reasons to why Juste should stay in Machecoul – he owed it to Maria’s mother, he didn’t care if Juste wasn’t great with teenage girls, all the usual Belmont family drama. Well, something else that time hadn’t changed. Alucard almost had a deja vu, as it wasn’t the first time he witnessed a scene like that.

So he decided to lay his attention elsewhere.

Ruby was standing at a good distance from the rest of the group; she had a focused – slightly annoyed, even – expression on her face as she analyzed the pairs of boots in front of her. She had taken them herself from the corpses before the three men collected the deceased vampires to throw them at the fire burning in the Belmont’s now ruined cottage.

She took a boot and placed it next to her barefoot feet, measuring it. Apparently, it was too big. She sighed and did the same with the next pair.

Alucard had been paying much attention to her. He’s one to always focus on the task at hand – said task meant to stop the impending doom hovering over mankind on Europe – however, from the moment he entered her room through her window, things took a different turn. Got more complicated.

The white-haired vampire knew she wasn’t lying. After you live that long, you learn how to pick up the mannerisms of deceit, especially in humans. They blush, blink, avoid your gaze, stutter, their voice gets higher. It takes a lot of practice to get rid of these involuntary quirks. From the moment they first met, Ruby seemed absolutely honest in her fright; in fact, it was as if she couldn’t lie even if she wanted to. As if… she was trained to never lie.

However, it wasn’t enough to make Alucard less suspicious of her. Too much was at stake to let himself be carried away by her story. He knew he was too old to get fooled, but he also knew to never say never – thus why he kept his attention on her, even if he didn’t show it.

He was trying to understand her. Get a glimpse of what was really going on.

Ruby kept silent during most of the way to Juste’s cottage – and that was a lot, given they walked the entire night. She barely made questions. She didn’t ask to rest, to get some water, didn’t complain about her tight shoe (Alucard could feel the faint smell of blood coming from the scratch on her heel). She kept her head low most of the time. Well… she did promise that they wouldn’t even notice she was there, but Alucard didn’t think she was so serious about it.

It made him feel bad for her, to be honest. He could tell it was another thing she was trained to do.

Three moments of their long walk towards Juste’s location caught his attention the most.

The first was during one of their few stops, when Ruby stood apart of the group and stared at the sky for quite some time, in complete silence. She had a focused expression he hadn’t seen her show yet; one that didn’t somehow look pained. The second was when she caught glimpse of a squirrel – the tiny animal ran up a tree so fast that Richter and Annette didn’t notice it – and gasped, her eyes widened, as if she’d never seen a squirrel before. When the two asked what happened, Ruby brushed it off in embarrassment.

The third moment was while Annette explained what they were going to retrieve in Paris – Sekhmet’s mummy which contained half of her soul. And… Ruby didn’t react.

Alucard remembered that both Richter and Annette got confused at what a mummy is. Ruby didn’t. As if she already knew what it was.

That put a question mark in his head.

Alucard wanted to trust her. She seemed genuine. He got really worried about her at the forest, when she learned about Drolta’s death; there was no way she could lie about that. But… how could he trust someone whose own mind was untrustworthy?

Ruby measured her feet with another worn out leather boot, knee-high and with a very short heel. This time, it seemed to match. She put on the pair. Tip-toed, turned her ankles around, took some steps. Finally, she opened a tiny satisfied smile and sighed in relief. “This will do,” she muttered to herself.

Alucard narrowed his eyes slightly.

There was a time – a long time ago –, when he was young, Alucard would trust her in a heartbeat. He wouldn’t even question her. He’d let himself be carried by his inexperience, his naivety… and his inherent taste for beautiful, delicate things. Because yes, Ruby was beautiful like a flower. She reminded him of a weeping begonia – graceful, colorful, yet with a certain melancholy to it. He’d offer help, cook for her, give her a shelter. He’d even offer himself to carry her on his back the entire way due to her hurt heel.

But Alucard wasn’t naive anymore, and there was too much at stake to have faith in her like that.

Of course, one could argue that if that’s the case, then he shouldn’t trust Richter and Annette as well, given he barely knew both. But Richter was a Belmont – and like all Belmonts, he carried his heart on his sleeve; Richter was incapable of deceit. Annette was mature, much more than someone her age should be, due to her past; Alucard could recognize someone with a strong sense of justice and pride like her. There was nothing complicated about them. Ruby was complicated. Ruby meant mystery in a situation that demanded clarity.

Ruby was their upper hand against Erzsebet, but she was also a problem.

“Annette,” the white-haired vampire called quietly. The girl looked at him immediately, understanding his quiet and serious tone. “I’d like to ask you a favor.” She nodded. “Try to… stay close to Ruby. She might feel more comfortable to talk with another woman.”

Annette narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. It might’ve sounded that he was just caring for Ruby, but the suspicion in his expression told her otherwise.

“Do you think she’s lying?” she asked in the same quiet voice.

“No,” Alucard said. “But she doesn’t remember anything from her past, so it doesn’t mean much. Perhaps… the real Ruby hidden in her memories might not be who she seems to be.”

Annette appeared hesitant – Alucard knew she had sympathy for Ruby – but nodded anyway.

The white-haired vampire sighed, tired of hearing the Belmonts talk, and got up.

“Richter. We need to go.” He was about to call Ruby as well, but she was already running towards them.

“Did you find one that fits?” Annette asked as she also got up. Ruby nodded.

“Yes. It doesn’t even smell bad, either.” She appeared so content with something so simple. Annette sent her a small smile before frowning and crossing her arms.

“What happens if we get to Paris and the mummy doesn’t hold any power, it’s just some old corpse that was stolen hundreds of years ago?” Annette wondered – but Alucard didn’t really pay attention to it.

Richter hugged Juste. Ruby watched it in silence – and the faint happiness she held seconds ago for finding good boots immediately faded away, being replaced by… longing. It was like watching a flower wither in front of his eyes.

A weeping begonia, indeed.

It was another one of those moments when Alucard wished he didn’t have his human heart. One of the few things that the fast passage of time hadn’t been able to change.

“Then at least it’s no use to Erzsebet, either,” he answered Annette’s question and turned around, not waiting for anyone to follow him.

When the great flowing river appeared, you couldn’t help but feel a bit of excitement.

Rivers and lakes kept frozen most of the time in Erzsebet’s country. It amounted to your pile of new experiences. In 24 hours, you’d already seen and done much more than during your time in imprisonment.

You tried not to gasp. This river was much larger than the one you’d seen a few hours ago, during one of the stops you’d made to drink water. The sound of the serene current was hypnotizing; it reflected sunlight beautifully, its surface shimmering with the glow of a million diamonds. A bit of fog still hovered over the nearby trees of the river bank.

“The river will take us much of the way from here,” Alucard explained. Since leaving Juste’s clearing, he had taken the lead and resumed himself to not talking much. Richter and Annette were carrying all of the conversations, to be honest, as you decided to also keep quiet.

Since you left the ruins at Machecoul, you noticed that Alucard was a bit… aloof. Or at least, he decided to act this way due the current situation – and you could understand that. The half-vampire wasn’t being rude, and never once did he appear annoyed anytime Richter and Annette made questions; in fact, he was more than eager to debate their plans or to explain how his hunt for Sekhmet’s mummy went over the years. And at the same time… his expression stayed nonchalant all throughout the way.

Well. You couldn’t expect anything less from a man that stayed extremely calm as he invaded Erzsebet’s chateau.

Nevertheless, it made you feel a bit… weird. You didn’t want to say lonely, but that’s more or less how you felt. Alucard was the one to talk to you at the forest after all, and Richter and Annette… they seemed too enthralled in each other, so you didn’t want to interrupt. You didn’t have the courage to initiate a conversation with Alucard either, scared to bother him. So to you, the entire travel had been a long, weird silence.

There was also the fact that you were in panic of attracting any attention to yourself. They must be extremely confident to walk around at night, you thought; how many vampires could be lurking under the moonlight, between the shadows? As much as the sights amazed you – heavens, you even saw a squirrel! –, you couldn’t help but also shiver whenever one of them stepped on twig.

“We won’t be stopping, so if you need provisions, get them now,” Alucard continued. “Keep out of sight. For sure, we’re being followed.” There it was. Just as you were thinking of vampires lurking, he confirmed your fears. And yet, instead of taking a fight stance or getting tense, he just furrowed his eyebrows and completed in an annoyed tone: “I’m always being bloody followed.”

Richter looked back. Then, you saw as his chest bubbled with excitement.

“Are you going to turn the tables on them, surprise them and then take them out with your flying-sword-thing?!” he asked on the same beat, not taking a second to breathe, his blue eyes shining with anticipation.

Alucard stared at him an embarrassingly second longer than normal.

“...I’m going to find a boat.”

And walked away.

Annette covered her mouth to muffle her laughter. Richter’s face got redder than a tomato. You looked down, unable to hide your chuckle as well. He seemed… very impressed by Alucard, you noticed. Once again, excited like a child. It was cute – and you got surprised at yourself, because you didn’t remember thinking anything was cute before.

Richter recovered from the embarrassment in a second. “I’ll hunt, you gather,” he said, pointing with his thumb. “I mean… you could hunt, too.”

Annette giggled once again. “I’ll find some mushrooms.”

They started to walk into the woods while talking about mushroom types.

For a second, you stood in place like a scared cat. Should you follow Alucard? Would that annoy him? Should you follow the other two? Would you annoy them? Didn’t they said you’d have to keep under watch at all times? But what if you became a burden? What if–

“Why aren’t you coming, Ruby?”

You jumped.

Annette and Richter stopped walking to look back at you. The girl had a little smile on her lips. “Do you like mushrooms?”

Oh. Right.

You ran to reach them. “I do,” you said awkwardly. The only good thing about living under Erzsebet’s enclosure was that you were, in fact, well-fed. It wasn’t always like that… but after you became obedient, you were served good food – and creamy mushroom soup was one of the dishes you liked.

“Let’s just hope that Alucard likes it, too,” Richter pondered, holding his chin. “If he even eats at all.”

“Of course he eats. Why wouldn’t he?” Annette raised one eyebrow.

Richter shrugged. “Well, I’m not an expert in half-vampire anatomy to understand his physiological needs.”

You clasped your hands behind your back, taking courage to speak up. “Is he… always like that?” You knew Alucard must’ve been far by that point, yet you still lowered your voice, as if afraid that he might hear it.

You didn’t even need to explain what “like that” meant. Annette pursed her lips. “I can’t tell. To be honest, we know him as long as you do.” That took you by surprise; you mean that Alucard trusted Richter and Annette without even knowing them?! The girl in yellow smirked and sent a teasing look towards Richter. “I mean, I didn’t know him; Richter right here knows everything about Alucard.”

“Hey– it’s not like that,” the boy blushed yet again and scratched the back of his neck. It seemed to be a quirk of his whenever he felt embarrassed. “It’s just that my family knows him for a long time, okay? I’ve… always heard stories about Alucard.”

“And is he what you were expecting?” Annette asked. Richter hummed, taking a second to answer.

“...Not exactly.” He crossed his arms. “I always imagined he’d look older. I mean, if you heard the stories they told me when I was a kid, you’d expect to meet a giant, like five meters tall.” Annette chuckled.

“Why does your family know him?” you asked Richter. He sighed.

“The Belmonts… we’re a long lineage of vampire hunters. Hundreds of years ago, my ancestors helped him defeat Dracula.”

Hundreds of years ago? So Alucard was that old? You shouldn’t be surprised as you knew that vampires didn’t age, keeping the same appearance they had when they were turned. Yet, since Alucard was only half vampire, you thought that he actually was the age he looked to be...

Annette narrowed her eyes. “I don’t think she knows who Dracula is. I didn’t know.”

“Riiight.” Richter nodded awkwardly. “Well, Dracula was considered by many the Vampire King for a long time. He was extremely powerful. And he almost wiped out life on Earth. Lovely guy,” Richter shrugged. “There’s also the detail that he was Alucard’s father.”

You widened you eyes. That meant that… Alucard had to kill his own father?!

“Does that make him the Vampire Prince?” Annette wondered, not appearing to care about what the blue eyed boy just stated at all.

“That’s one of his titles in the legends, though I don’t think he likes it,” Richter crossed his arms. “Well, he does look like a prince.”

The girl opened the most playful, devious grin you’ve ever seen – in fact, that was the most emotion you’ve seen her show up until now. Annette was somewhat serious and her reactions were very contained, so you were a bit surprised by that. It seemed that only Richter could evoke these reactions from her…

“Oh, God. Are you going to ask his hand in marriage? When you do, tell us previously, so we can leave the room,” she playfully elbowed his ribs.

“Wait– That’s not– What I meant is–“ Richter stumbled over his words, his cheeks redder than ever – and this time you couldn’t help but giggle with Annette, covering your mouth. It also seemed that only Annette could get Richter flustered like that…

“Alright, lover boy. This seems like a good place,” she stopped walking, pointing to her right side. “Let’s see if we can find some good ones. Take care to not get hurt by your dangerous rabbits,” she sent him one last playful look.

Still blushing, Richter smiled, shook his head and kept walking ahead.

Her eyes lingered on his figure. For a second, you wondered if she forgot you were even there.

Finally, she looked at you. “Shall we?”

You nodded, following her into the woods.

And… back to silence.

Awkward silence.

You didn’t really know how to start conversations. You didn’t even know if you should. That might annoy her, you thought. I’m not her friend like Richter. It’s better if I just keep silent to not attract unwanted attention.

With the corner of your eye, you observed Annette.

Richter commented that Alucard looked like a prince - and talking about royalty… you also thought that Annette looked like a princess. Her features were delicate; she was soft spoken, polite and intelligent. Her round brown eyes reminded you of kindness and warmth, although you could see they were clouded with some sadness and distress. The way she matched her yellow vest with the golden hair rings and earrings reminded you of a sunflower. Earrings… looking at them made you feel the ghost of a familiar pain. Whenever they dressed you up for Erzsebet’s night balls, they’d have to pierce your ears to put earrings on them. Every single time. And the skin would constantly try to heal around the earring, making them itch uncontrollably until you’d finally rip them off–

“Oh! Looks like we found some,” Annette cut your line of thoughts before they could spiral. “Well, that was fast…”

She pointed towards the ground nearby. There was a tree with a couple of mushrooms growing near the roots. Annette took a small wooden bowl from the shoulder bag she carried across her chest and knelt down in front of the tree.

You narrowed your eyes as you got closer to the tree…

“These aren’t edible.” You blurted out.

Annette looked back at you.

You stepped closer, shyly pointing towards the mushrooms.

“They’re… too white. The gills. Poisonous,” each word that came out of your mouth made you frown more.

The girl in yellow looked down at the mushrooms, softly pushing them with her fingertips to see under the cap better. Then, she looked back at you.

“You’re right,” she got up, watching you in silence.

You looked back at her in silence, too.

Silence.

“I didn’t know I knew that,” you admitted in a whisper.

Annette cracked a small smile. “That’s a good sign, isn’t it?”

“Why?”

“You remembered something.”

You remembered…?

You were sure of one thing – never once in your life have you ever went mushroom picking under Erzsebet’s imprisonment. Your memory could be a mess, but of that you were sure. So why would you know how to spot a poisonous mushroom?

Was that… was that really a memory?

“You look very shocked,” Annette pointed out. You realized she was already some steps ahead of you looking for another tree. You ran to reach her.

“I… well, I… do you think this could be a memory?” You didn’t like how high pitched your voice sounded.

“Of course it’s a memory. What is knowledge if not a collection of memories?” she said softly.

You felt excitement bubbling within your chest, making your heartbeat increase and you grab the fabric of the skirt.

“Then I think I had another memory past night.” This caught Annette’s attention. “I… I saw a squirrel.” She quirked one eyebrow up, confused. “See, back in Erzsebet’s castle, I was always locked up. And it’s a cold place, there’s always too much snow. Even if I’d go out, I don’t think I’d ever see a squirrel.” You looked up at her, eyes gleaming with excitement. “B-But I saw a squirrel yesterday and I knew what it was, you see? It’s the same situation, isn’t it? A… a knowledge?”

Annette chuckled, but you saw in her eyes – they were very honest – that she didn’t find the situation funny at all. It was… maybe similar to what you saw in Alucard’s eyes past afternoon. It had sympathy and, again, a hint of sadness.

Oh… you let it slip the part about being locked up in a castle.

She was probably feeling bad about you.

“It might be,” she spoke, once again, in that soft tone. “Perhaps those things are common to you, and now you’re beginning to remember.”

Right.

Right, right, right. She was right. Your heartbeat kept up its fast pace as a million ideas flooded your mind. This was the first time you weren’t being mistreated and tortured. When you weren’t being tortured, you were under the constant anxiety of when it was going to happen next. That’s why you slept so much. This was the first time you refused to sleep in order to take in everything happening around you, even the smallest things. What if it was somehow healing your mind?

What if you used to live in a place with mushrooms and squirrels? What if it was a cottage like Juste’s, near a clearing? What if it had trees all around? What if… what if you had relatives that would hug you like Juste and Richter? What if they taught you the difference between an edible and a poisonous mushroom? What if you had parents?

What name did your parents give you?

What was your name? Your actual name, and not this mockery Erzsebet named you that night?

Ruby. That beautiful necklace, bejeweled with diamonds and a big ruby stone that you hated so much. It seemed to burn your skin, seemed to weight tons. But yes, it had the same color of your blood; the necklace got soaked with it whenever Erzebet’s fangs sank in your throat, it’d soak the collar of your dresses, it’d paint your body in that color, it’d paint the Vampire Messiah’s lips–

You gasped and flinched away when you felt a hand on your arm.

Annette looked at you with worry.

“I’m sorry. I called you a few times but you didn’t listen…”

You gulped, putting your hand over your chest and feeling your heart thundering nonstop. The way she was looking at you…

It happened again… just like yesterday, with Alucard…

You hated how your hands were shaking. You hated that you could feel your vision get blurred. You hated all of it, and you hated how a simple thought could make you drift back to her.

You also hated that this thing happened, yet again, with someone to witness. Heavens… you didn’t want to appear weak. These people already had enough problems; all you had to do was not bring them more trouble, to be as unnoticeable as possible, but how could they not notice you if you kept embarrassing yourself like that over and over again?

“My apologies.” You managed to speak somehow. “I’m fine.”

Annette pressed her lips together. Oh, you hated a bit how genuine her eyes were… she couldn’t hide any emotion at all. She felt bad for you. She was worried. You didn’t want to worry anyone.

The girl let out a deep sigh. She held the wooden bowl with both hands, pressing it close to her abdomen, and looked down. For the first time, you noticed the symbol burned on the skin of her right hand… it looked like a flower. Was she branded…?

“I… understand how you feel,” Annette started in a quiet voice. The way she somehow sounded fragile took you off guard; it was the first time you’d seen her like that. “I really do. Those people… they keep haunting you. On your sleep, or even when you’re awake…”

Wind swayed the trees above, played with Annette’s hair, made the golden rings around her locs tinkle softly. In that moment, she looked very young… no. She was very young. Yet, it was the first time you noticed it. She always kept a certain posture, a certain way of speech, that didn’t let this fact be noticed easily. Her fragility almost made her look child-like.

Oh…

The sadness in her eyes… it didn’t have much to do with you. Your state just reminded her of something painful.

“I am not saying that it’s easy to get over it. I still struggle myself,” she admitted quietly, as if she wasn’t proud of it. “And I am not saying that you should be embarrassed to feel this way. It’s… natural.”

Finally, she lifted her head, looking at you once again.

“I don’t know exactly what you went through. But what I can say is that… to be truly freed is to not be afraid. Because when you’re not afraid anymore, they can never hurt you again, even in your mind.” She opened a small, dimpled smile. “And when we defeat Erzsebet, justice will be done. You will be entirely free.”

Sunlight that breached through the leaves touched her face softly. Made her golden earrings glow; lightened her deep brown eyes, making them look caramel. The hint of sadness was still there, but they also shimmered with something else: hope. Courage.

You wondered what Annette must’ve been through; you weren’t brave enough to ask. You could see that life hadn’t been kind to her… her eyes didn’t lie. And even so, she was walking towards indescribable evil to fight against it, even though she had her own demons to face. She was taking her time to offer you encouraging words.

Annette was really like a sunflower; despite the darkness of the world, she chose to face the sun.

You didn’t even know what to reply.

“Thank you,” was all you managed to say now that your heart had fallen into a slower pace again. Luckily, Annette didn’t seem to expect you to elaborate. It’s like she knew you couldn’t.

She nodded and tapped the side of your arm. “We still have mushrooms to pick. And it’s better if you find them… I was about to poison us all, apparently,” she managed to jester, earning a chuckle from you.

When Annette came back, she had the weirdest expression on her face.

After you finished picking enough mushrooms, she went to look out for Richter. Although you were still uneasy, she declared that there was no danger nearby, so you could rest a little if you wanted – which you accepted to do, sitting under a tree for a while. It was nice being alone for some moments. You tried to hear your own mind; maybe it could whisper new memories…

However, Annette came back barely five minutes later with her eyes widened.

You got up immediately. “Did you find Richter? Is everything alright?”

The girl blinked several times. “Y-Yes, I found him. Everything’s alright.”

Annette… stuttering?

Then you noticed… she was blushing.

What…?

“We s-should reunite with Alucard,” she sounded a bit exasperated and rushed. “Richter’s still hunting, but I bet he–“

That’s when you heard the sound of the explosion.

The floor shook beneath your feet. The loud noise came from close by, followed by a loud grunt. Richter’s voice.

Your entire body got tense. Your eyes widened. Your breath hitched.

But, before you could say anything, Annette looked at something behind you and widened her eyes.

“Get down!”

She didn’t need to say it twice.

You dropped, covering your head with both hands, one second before a scrawny looking vampire could stab your temple with a knife.

The thing hissed – and for a second you got desperate thinking, Annette is going to die.

Only for one second, though.

It was the time it took her to kill him.

With a quick gesture of hers, the knife the vampire held melted into somewhat a formless pulp mid air and floated to her hand, where it was reshaped as a spear. With a groan of effort, Annette pierced through the vampire’s skull as if it was butter.

You looked at her in absolute shock.

“Nice reflexes!” She said. But you heard Richter’s voice again, the sound of flames whooshing in the wind, and other unknown voices; the sounds of a fight. “Let’s go!”

She grabbed you by the wrist and ran.

Your most primitive instincts wanted to run in the opposite direction; hell, you’d barely recovered from whatever just happened a second ago. Your worst fears became true; there were vampires deep within the forest, hiding in the shadows even during the day. And you were alone in the woods… if Annette had taken a minute longer, you’d have been knocked out. Maybe that vampire would’ve taken you and ran back to Erzsebet’s entourage. Was Alucard nearby? Did he heard the fight? Was he coming to help you three–?

All your thoughts disappeared.

Richter was fighting two vampires at the same time with his bare hands. You watched, in shock, as he switched from fire to ice to lightning, covering his punches and kicks in blue elemental magic, not showing any sign of struggle at all.

He managed to knock two of them – but didn’t notice as a third short vampire was ready to shot him with a shotgun. Annette was faster. Once again, she controlled the metal of the bullet, disintegrating it before it could even touch Richter, and forced the projectiles to ricochet back at its shooter.

Richter looked at you and Annette.

“I would’ve dodged that,” he complained, pouting.

“Is ‘thank you’ so hard?” Annette retorted.

The blue eyed boy looked at you. “Stand behind us, yes?” As if he needed to say it. Another tall vampire wearing an armor sprinted at them as they took their offensive positions.

You were in such a deep shock that you couldn’t even be scared anymore.

They… they weren’t struggling. At all. They were just human beings, fighting against vampires and winning, winning with the help of magic. They predicted the vampires’ moves and broke their attacks like it was nothing. They were so overwhelmingly superior that the enemies barely even noticed you were there, too focused in trying to survive.

Now you understood why Alucard trusted them without even knowing them well.

They didn’t even need Alucard’s aid.

Annette fought against a tall and skinny vampire. She controlled the blades he used on his sleeves, preventing him to run away; she then reshaped his blades into a sharp spear. After exchanging a few blows, she launched the spear with a scream of effort – and hit bullseye. Quite literally. The spear pierced into the vampire’s eye through his skull, killing him immediately.

Richter had ran off after the last vampire, disappearing from your sights.

“Where’d he go?!” she asked in a rushed tone. You pointed towards the direction he sprinted on, unable to speak.

She didn’t need to ask you to follow her.

When you reached him, the situation seemed under control. Richter had retrieved his whip, and the short vampire was down on his knees.

Richter smirked confidently.

“I hope the vampires in Paris are better than this bunch of blood wankers,” he boasted in a cocky way…

But the vampire smirked as well.

With a puff of black smoke, he turned into a small bat.

“Richter!” Annette called. At the same time, another vampire appeared from within the shadows.

The blue eyed boy didn’t know which to chase – but the new enemy seemed faster and more dangerous. His whip got involved in blue fire; with a single whiplash, the vampire was killed.

But the bat had already disappeared.

“The little one’s escaped!” Annette groaned. It was the first time she looked even slightly annoyed at Richter. She had a breathless scowl in her face, her nose slightly crunched. “Great! Now they know where we are going!”

Richter was distressed. He looked around, his cheeks flushed either because of the physical effort or sheer embarrassment. “Let’s– Let’s look around for him, he mustn’t be far!”

“A tiny bat flew away between the trees, Richter. We won’t find it.” The girl put her hands on each side of her waist.

They started arguing on what they should do next. You didn’t have it in you to interrupt.

Now that adrenaline was slowly fading away, you felt… pretty useless. All you could do was stand there like a frozen statue while these two fought like beasts. At least you didn’t disturb them or made the situation more difficult.

The bigger part of your brain was still frightened. A tiny part of it was… a little excited.

“I suppose we should tell Alucard,” Richter admitted defeat after apologizing over a hundred times, shoulders dropped and a flushed pout on his lips. Annette sighed.

“Let’s not. It probably won’t matter.” Maybe she had a point… these vampires didn’t look like Erzsebet’s servants. No cloaks, no moon symbol on their foreheads. She crossed her arms. “And I don’t want to give him another excuse for that ‘oh, you children’ look he does.”

You wanted to disagree, but you didn’t feel that you had the right… not after what you saw them do.

And… you couldn’t judge them for hiding something.

You were hiding something, too. Something you didn’t want to talk about – at least, not yet.

Three memories of yours awakened that day.

You knew what a squirrel was. You knew what poisonous and edible mushrooms were.

And...

I don’t think she knows who Dracula is, Annette said back then.

She was wrong.

You did.

#alucard x reader #castlevania #castlevania nocturne #adrian tepes #alucard x you #adrian fahrenheit tepes #castlevania alucard #alucard tepes #alucard adrian tepes #castlevania x reader

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twilightofthesandwiches · 9 days ago

Note

I already reblogged it but I wanted to say it again-

You did a REALLY nice job on the Mettaton & Tenna comparison analysis.

Do you have anything to say about the fact that in DR, the option to give Tenna to Mettaton is there? And that Mettaton seems to appreciate him? Can that relate to the theming in some metaphorical way?

First of all, thank you!

I've actually have a few Thoughts about it that I've been considering writing down... First things of all, I don't think it's a coincidence that Mettaton, as the symbol of modernity, of moving forwards, ends up being where Tenna needed to move forwards to. Like, Tenna accepting that the past is past is what makes it possible for him to move towards a better now. And Mettaton is that 'better now' for him, because that's already kinda what he represents.

There's also the thing of Hopes and Dreams both being necessary and being part of the balance of Light and Dark. Tenna brings Mettaton some much-needed Hopes, and as a Darkner, he's validated by Mettaton's Dreams.

One concept I had rattling in my head is that this is a sort of a cross-universe culmination/'full circle' of Mettaton's character arc, the person who the Audience knows has a problem with abandoning and leaving people behind is the perfect person to take in the person who has been abandoned.

Or if you wanna look at it the other way around, that Deltarune is thematically a 'prequel' (and Mettaton is clearly at an earlier point of his character arc compared to Undertale), then you can say his rise to stardom is making both his dreams and Tenna's dreams come true by making the TV into an Exciting Modern Concept in the Underground, and using it to bring joy and entertainment to countless Monsters.

Another thing I've been thinking of is that if Tenna's 'salacious' music video ends up somewhat inspiring Mettaton to fulfil his dreams in the Deltarune timeline as well...

Well, that might be a bit bittersweet from Tenna's perspective cause he wouldn't get Watched as much if Mettaton actually started getting out of the house (although I don't think he'd get totally ignored like he was in the current Dreemurrs household) but... it's like, because Tenna learned how to move forwards with his life, that made it possible for him to inspire a Lightner to do the same.

Tenna was so fixated on Nostalgia and Escapism because for the Dreemurrs he was only a symbol for their memories of happier times and a way to escape the stress of their Family Drama, so these are the emotions that were imbued into his very essence. With Mettaton, Tenna is now actually capable of representing the future, even though he's still outdated technology, he can represent progress, he can be the Hope that you can achieve your Dreams.

So, um, yeah, these thoughts are still kinda disorganized and I might make a more coherent post about them later, but there is certainly a Lot to talk about there!

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meowdei · 6 months ago

Note

not a selfship but alhaitham + when you’re reaching for the same obscure old tome, of which the house of daena only has one copy

Your palm meets warm skin instead of the cold, leather cover of a tome. You pause, glancing up as sharp, teal eyes meet your gaze, staring at you expectantly as if you should be the one letting go.

You need this tome. It’s the final research element to finish your thesis, and you’d like to be done with it. End of story. No matter how devastatingly handsome the man (because he is handsome, even you’ll admit that much), you will not be handing over the last, final key to your academic freedom.

“Um, excuse me,” you say dryly, “I was kind of reaching for that.”

“As was I,” he says, staring at you with a bored, almost uncaring expression. Your eyes narrow. “Now, if you’d please kindly take your hand off of mine.”

“I believe it should be you taking your hand off of mine,” you correct, huffing as you add stubbornly, “I reached for it first.”

He blinks at you, bland and a little irritated as he points out, “your hand is on top of mine, which means I reached the book first.”

Well.

Maybe if you were feeling particularly patient, you’d be inclined to admit that yes, he does have a point. But stubbornness, combined with pure exhaustion have you at your wits end, and if you have to play a bit difficult, then so be it. You’re pretty sure you need it more, and you’re probably a much speedier reader anyway. You’ll have it done and returned in no time.

This guy on the other hand…he doesn’t look too bright. You’re not willing to take your chances and let him walk off with a tome that you might never see again.

“I started reaching for it first,” you scowl, “you just sped up your hand once you saw me. I should get it.”

“Unlikely,” he scoffs, “I didn’t even see you. Although,” he gives you a once over with his eyes, making you feel uncomfortably seen under his judging gaze, “I suppose you are a bit easy to miss.”

You gape at him. “Just what does that mean?”

“It means,” he smirks, taking the opportunity to grab the book as you stand in shock, “that I got here first.”

“Hey!” You glare at him, seeing red for a moment. What a perfectly good waste of a perfectly handsome face—and such an awful attitude coupled with his ridiculously smug grin couldn’t make for a worse combination. But, before you can even say anything, the book is being pressed back into your hands.

“You seem like you want it more than I do, though,” he hums, “I suppose I can let you have it. It’s a bit outdated for me, anyway.”

With that, he saunters off. You push down the soft flutter in your heart for a moment and force yourself to hope you’ll never see him again. (Faintly, you hope your wishes don’t come true—but you refuse to admit it to yourself.)

Throws UP I love him so much. TY RAE FOR SPOILING ME ILY

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham fluff #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin impact x reader #meowdei.writing

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1moreff-creator · 5 months ago

Text

Fool's Table MV - Analysis

I absolutely adore this MV so it's getting an immediate analysis post. I cannot fucking believe what was in it. After playing coy with Mai for so long, we get an entire MV about her and Teruko?!?! The Terumai stocks are through the roof and my adoration is immeasurable. Let's go!!!

I hope I'm able to pick up on at least most of the most important details, I am doing this a bit off the cuff lol. As always, an important disclaimer is that the following is just my interpretation, I could be wrong about some things, and others may have multiple valid interpretations, I’m not claiming that my way of seeing the MV is the only “right” one, yadda yadda, you know this by now.

First, the description:

Together, alone, until the curtains close, I want to dance on the stage with you.

Pretty straightforward. The entire MV is framed on a stage, there's curtains, Mai and Teruko even dance. Just reinforcing the togetherness of Mai and Teruko (and don’t worry, we’ll get to that).

But, wait. Not everyone knows who Mai is, or what we already knew of her relationship with Teruko. That’s understandable, she’s had literally 9 seconds of screen time in the main series, and while it’s widely speculated she’s Unnamed Classmate, that’s not immediately obvious.

If you don’t know anything about her, I'll recommend you read up on the relevant sections of my secrets masterpost, since all you really need is her profile, Mai quotes and maybe her LGI numeral to understand this post. Or, if you're down for a longer read, my only somewhat outdated Mai post.

Next, we have to ask, what is Fool's Table actually about? I find it helps to talk about the song's overall meaning before diving into any specific lines, so we can better understand them in context.

Fool's Table is a song primarily about societal rules and expectations, and what it means to live within them. You'll see plenty of references to manners, people wearing masks, etc. The song also dwells on the concept that suffering is an inherent part of being human, and how to deal with this fact. The titular Fool's Table refers to life itself; it's framed both as a table, where society would claim manners and cleanliness are important, and described as a stage in various occasions, somewhere to dance and dirty and act on. You'll see what I mean when we get to line by line analysis, which this should be enough to get us started on, I think!

We open on a shot of a table, filled with plenty of different foods. Given this is the "table of life", you can easily interpret this as a representation of the large amount of experiences which life can offer. Before Teruko and Mai appear, the following lyrics play:

I'll deliver the final blow Already, that kid has a pitiful look on their face Everything everywhere is in flames Savages acting "sensitive"

"Everything everywhere is in flames" is pretty straightforward, I think. A very Teruko-like sentiment. This sentiment is possibly why the table that represents life is shown upside down; being "upside down" is a way of showing that everything's wrong with it, and by extension the world. The "final blow" mentioned, in my opinion, is showing this "truth" to the "kid with a pitiful face." Basically, this kid, possibly a stand-in for all children, was already sad, and now you're telling them everything is in shambles because of "savages" who pretend to be more compassionate, "sensitive", than they truly are.

On its surface, this seems like exactly the kind of fatalism that Teruko has held throughout most of her life. However, the next lines actually recontextualize these statements in quite an important way.

Let's let the flowers bloom until the end From the cradle to the grave, there's not enough love! Impatient guests, in a hurry Everyone is wearing the same face

This reveals that the singer actually wants things to get better, "flowers to bloom until the end." Although discontent with the current state of the world, with all these people who have lost their identity ("wearing the same face") due to "being in a hurry" (which you can interpret in a few different ways but it's not all that important for us), they seem to believe there are ways to improve it. And this idea that the singer wishes to go against society and make a better world for themselves is immediately tied to Teruko in the next line.

"You have no manners"

(The color's not actually in the MV just to be clear lol)

So first, sick animation. DRDTDev is awesome.

Anyways, there's the connection. For all that Teruko in current canon doesn't particularly believe her life can get better, she's certainly someone who goes against what is expected of her, here represented by dropping her cutlery and eating with her mouth. That's because Teruko doesn't think acting the way others act is going to help her, so she does her own thing. For example, pushing everyone away after the first trial, when others would want her to be more approachable. And with this idea, we reach Teruko's side of the table.

Now, gather around the pure white table

"The pure white table" is an ironic statement. Remember, the table represents life, so pretending it's "pure white" would imply it's simple and orderly, which the singer obviously doesn't believe. To amplify the irony, the statement is contrasted by the image of Teruko spilling blood all over the "pure white table." The statement is pretty clear: Teruko is a challenge to the orderly nature of society. Not only because she's a disruptive person herself, but because her life of misfortune is in itself a challenge to the idea that everything's perfect and okay, the mask that the other people mentioned before in the song wear.

Dance on spinning dishes, oh no

I actually quite like this line. The imagery of dishes is obviously connected to the table, which represents life, but spinning dishes in particular is a circus trick. Literally calling the world a circus, lmao. And asking you to dance on the dishes once again invites images of disorder and going against expectations.

We've forgotten the right way to breathe

AND THE CROWD GOES WILD!!!!!

Indeed, our favorite mystery girl (and birthday girl!), Mai Akasaki, makes an appearance. Unlike Teruko, Mai's eating with her cutlery, the way society would want her to. And this isn't exactly the first time we've seen Mai be contrasted with Teruko in this kind of vibe, remember?

In the LGI MV, Teruko is described as "someone dearly unloved", while Mai is "someone dearly loved." If you know anything about Mai, you know the idea that she's perfect by all standards, including societal ones, isn't exactly new.

However, it's worth noting that this is only a first impression. We'll see Mai dancing on the table later, and based on that and the whole "document" situation with Xander and Unnamed Classmate in Visiting Graves, we know Mai's perfectly fine with going against the grain and doing what she believes is right, despite what society may think. That said, unlike Teruko, her existence isn't actually a threat to the status quo, as she's:

[Mai Quote - Min]: An average girl with nothing special at all about her.

It's worth noting, though, she seems to be eating flowers instead of food. This can be an early indication of her more rebellious leanings (you eat food, not flowers), but I think it could be meant to serve as further contrast with Teruko. Remember how the foods could represent life experiences? Well, "eating flowers" in that sense could mean that Mai actually had a pretty pleasant life, which is entirely possible as, again, ordinary girl. We know from Charles' Mai quote that she loves her family, from Whit's that she has many friends, and from Visiting Graves that she doesn't have money issues. She could certainly have other issues, mind you, but right now we don't have much indication of it.

Oh also the lyric. "We've forgotten the right way to breathe" is just another way the singer has of expressing dissatisfaction with how others act. It seems like it's explicitly ambiguous whether Mai is one of the people who've forgotten the right way to breathe, or one of the people who hold the singer's opinion, playing into the dichotomy of how Mai is first presented here (eating properly) and how she dances on the table later. By the way, the word "we" actually appears and disappears before Mai shows up on screen, while the camera is still in the middle, so take that as you will.

It's all over once we drown What a luxurious dining table!

To quickly cover the lyrics, "drowning" I imagine is an allegory for death. Remember how the singer was upset others "lived in a hurry"? Yeah that. And the "luxurious" dining table thing is once again sarcastic.

You might have been wondering if I was ever going to talk about the things on the table, and don't worry, I am about to, I was just waiting for this wide shot. In general, I think most of what's on it is decorative, as I struggle to find any metaphors hidden in most of the food. The 12 colored biscuits next to Mai may be representative of the 12 members of the cast who are still alive in the killing game, maybe, but I don't think some of the colors match all that well (where does yellow go? why do we have so little blue?). Could also be the altDRDT cast + mascot, as pointed out by accirax. I don't think it's too important to know what this is, so I'll leave it open-ended.

The candles are a point of interest to me, though. The one on Mai's side is taller, but further from her, while the one on Teruko's side is smaller, but closer to her. There are like a billion ways you can interpret that, but I'm gonna choose to think of them as the two girls' "warmth", if that makes sense. Teruko is keeping it closer to herself, not as willing to open up, and the candle's shorter, so she has less warmth to give. Conversely, Mai is more willing to give Teruko her "warmth", as she's a really nice person from what we know, and that warmth is very intense judging from the length of the candle. Works well enough for me.

Finally, the most important part of the table, the cake. Obviously the centerpiece, it has both flowers and a red liquid, which I assume we're meant to see as blood. Notably, the side facing Teruko has the blood on top and the flowers below, possibly representing the way Teruko, at least in CH2, shows off her harsher side to the world while hiding more delicate and complicated feelings. Meanwhile, Mai's side has the blood being covered by the flowers, as if implying that Mai's kindness and love hide a fiercer soul underneath. Given the whole "she was probably staging some kind of revolution against Hope's Peak with Xander based on Visiting Graves" thing, I'd say that's a pretty accurate description of her character. Not to say she's intentionally hiding an evil side or anything, just that her real feelings are more complicated than what her seemingly perfect exterior suggest.

I haven't talked about the flowers because they're drawn the same as the flowers on Mai's tattoo, the Bonus Episode text boxes, and the "flowers of an unknown species" of the LGI MV. If you know the common interpretations, you'll know the two popular options for what they are is white camellias or white mai flowers. White camellias represent purity and honor like other white flowers, though they also specifically represent adoration and respect and are popular funeral flowers in Japan; while Mai flowers represent "prosperity, happiness in the new year, as well as resilience against storms and challenges", and the yellow variation of the flowers is connected to a legend about a girl who died protecting her father and village from a snake monster. Oh yeah Mai's probably dead by the time the killing game starts. 'Cuz, you know.

See that arrow pointing to Mai's portrait when her numeral XI shows up alongside the word God?

Yeah it's not very subtle. Mai's God, Mai's dead. There are other interpretations for this, mind you, but there's also other reasons to believe she's dead, so.

Trash is trash, trash will act like trash Fools are fools, fools will act like fools That's the ironclad rule of society And there's no room to complain

You get the lyrics by now, right? I don't have to point out that this is once again talking about rigid societal rules and expectations? Good!

Everyone everywhere is a nuisance The noisy crowd from earlier

For now, let's dance in the palm of their hands

Yay more pretty animation! :D

Here, the singer once again insults society at large, but also says that "for now, let's dance in the palm of their hands." As in, they're not fully ready to complete go against society yet, and will engage with its expectations for a while longer.

However, we're actually left with a pretty important question: what the fuck is the apple? Apples are usually representative of the “forbidden fruit”, a temptation or desire which goes against what is accepted. So, perhaps Mai is doing as the lyric on screen says; by discarding the apple, she’s discarding that which is forbidden by society and “dancing in the palm of their hand.”

That’s certainly an understandable interpretation, but I don’t find it fully convincing, because it just… doesn’t fit Mai.

[Mai Quote - Xander]: She couldn’t stand to do nothing.

Not only because of the whole “rebelling against Hope’s Peak” thing, but because later in this very MV, she’s seen dancing on the table with Teruko, going against societal expectations.

Additionally, it doesn’t explain what giving the apple to the dog would represent. Dogs can’t go against human societal norms, as far as I know. So, that’s another point that would need to be explained in that interpretation.

But maybe the doggy can help us? Maybe we can get to another interpretation through it, because I feel like I’ve seen it somewhere before-

Oh for the love of- Can this stop being the most plot relevant execution of all time???????? I don't want to think about it anymore!!!!!! /silly

Yes, the presence of a black dog/wolf is an explicit callback to Min’s execution. This would draw a connection between the apple and Min. On the surface, there are a few other ways we can connect them, as apples have a lot of associations with a bunch of things. In pop culture, apples are a common gift students give their teachers, and Min is a Student who wished to be a teacher. Allow me to ignore that this could also connect to the About Page Text and altDRDT Teacher real quick, since this connection is very minor and very cherry picked and only works because of the dog that doesn’t have ties to those two things.

However, it does bring even more issues with the interpretation I previously mentioned. Because, to put it bluntly, Min is the exact opposite of going against societal norms. Her recap foil is the Rebel, she’s under the orders of XF-Ture Tech, you know the drill.

Is it possible, then, that the meaning of the apple is the opposite as well? That eating the apple represents accepting society’s rules? It may seem weird with the associations to forbidden-ness I mentioned earlier, but if you go back and look at the Lone Apple scenes again, this idea gets a bit stronger.

The apple is full when the singer talks about the ironclad rules of society, as if implying that the apple is the ironclad rule. Then, right before we hear the singer talk about dancing in the palm of the hand of the “noisy crowd”, the apple is seen eaten, as if eating it is directly connected to dancing in their palm and following the rules. This would be consistent with the apple’s connection to Min, as Min herself is representative of following societal expectations as discussed earlier.

But then, why would it be “forbidden”? Well, I propose that we’ve been thinking about it wrong. The apple isn’t forbidden from society’s perspective, but from Teruko’s perspective.

Theory: An “Unfortunate” Point of View

The idea is that the MV doesn’t show things from a neutral perspective, but rather, from Teruko’s perspective, specifically. I’ll discuss why I believe this in more detail in a bit, but for now, I’ll ask you to bear with me.

This is the final piece of the puzzle for my take on the apple. Since the world has been unkind to Teruko, playing along with the rules of the world would make you an enemy in her eyes. She has been opposed to them from the very start of this MV, after all. Thus, the act of accepting the “ironclad rules”, eating the apple and “dancing in the noisy crowd’s palm”, would be seen by Teruko as eating a forbidden fruit. Therefore, the MV presents it as such, since I believe it’s shown from her perspective.

However, Mai discards the apple, which in this case is consistent with her dancing on the table later. She’s forgoing society’s rules and “throwing them to the wolves.”

Am I cooking? Am I burning down the kitchen? I have no idea! But that’s what makes it fun! This whole thing is obviously very up to interpretation, and there’s not really such a thing as a right or wrong one, really. I’m very open to hearing other interpretations on this thing.

Btw while we’re here, the wolf thing could also be connected to Elliot’s death, since he likely got killed by dogs as well (long story). In that case, the apple could represent knowledge, as in, the “forbidden” knowledge of Elliot’s existence and death. But… that’s kinda really disconnected from the rest of the MV and I don’t know how to relate it to the other lines the apple is seen alongside. So, throwing it out there, but I don’t think there’s a connection there.

Finally, I don’t think Mai’s the mastermind. Yes, I know that her throwing something to a wolf could be an allegory to her executing Min. But as stated earlier, it’s likely she’s already dead, and it’s kinda hard to mastermind a killing game from beyond the grave. You could connect it, in a more roundabout way, to theories that Mai’s death caused the killing game, but I don’t think it can really go further than that.

Gather around the pure white table Dance on spinning dishes, oh no We've forgotten the right way to breathe Let’s continue until we drown

Same lyrics as before, except for the change of “let’s continue until we drown.” It fits with Teruko lying on the table, not really doing anything. See, I believe this moment represents one where Teruko has given up on actively fighting, and is just deciding to go along with the flawed society she lives in. If I compared her eating with her hands earlier with her attitude at the start of CH2, this could be compared to her attitude when MonoTV told her she’d get executed but before Levi jumped in. That is, resigned and just letting things happen. This bouncing between harsh and “socially condemned” methods of self-preservation and resignation to her fate is a common thing for Teruko, I find.

Go ahead, enjoy the sour and sweet as you please Forever uncertain, I’ve held onto this poison Let it make my cells dance With those sharp-edged words! Our pain, we couldn’t choose any of it Look, it’s spinning round and round On the dining table of “life”

Yeah remember that thing about Teruko resigning herself to her fate and bad luck? “Our pain, we couldn’t choose any of it” is pretty in line with that. Teruko’s just accepted that bad things will happen, the world’s terrible and her existence is suffering. Hence, “enjoy the sour and sweet as you please” while she’s lying on the table; she’s a meal ready to be consumed by those who hurt her at their whims.

And who do I mean by “those who hurt her”? Well, if you didn’t catch it, the type of knife and its placement is a clear echo of Xander stabbing Teruko. Now, judging by several of her statements through the series, Xander isn’t the only person who’s ever hurt her, but he does work as a stand-in. Someone Teruko trusted has stabbed her in the… I’d say back but it was really the stomach, and she thinks this is what will always happen if she opens herself to hoping things will be better. She wants to, to some extent (“forever uncertain”), but she knows it will still hurt her eventually (the poison “making her cells dance”).

Well, except.

Here Mai is, pointing a knife away from Teruko. Defending her, possibly. This is the same knife she held at the start, the one which seemed to suggest Mai was playing by the rules of society. Except, she’s now taken those things, and is now using it to point at whoever may want to “eat” Teruko. That could represent a couple of things, but the most straightforward idea for me is that several of the things that make Mai a standup member of society are also just good traits for a friendship, such as her kindness and compassion.

Now, the next section has a lot of repeated images, so I’m just going to describe what shows up with each lyric.

[Mai pointing knife from uninjured Teruko] Now, gather around the pure white table Dance on spinning dishes, oh no [Teruko stabbed, alone] We’ve forgotten the right way to breathe [Mai holding knife, Teruko hidden] It’s all over once we drown (What luxurious dining table!)

(Btw you can know if Teruko is injured or not by facial expression, if you were wondering how I could tell)

Chorus, we know the lyrics. However, I’d like to point out that the line “we’ve forgotten the right way to breathe” is shown with Teruko injured and no Mai, possibly implying that being alone is “the wrong way to breathe” as it gets Teruko injured. That’s my favorite interpretation for that, anyways. Also ominous showing Mai front and center when talking about drowning as an allegory for death, but frankly? This is the first “dead” allegation she’s caught this entire video, and seeing how she managed to catch, like, three in the two seconds her numeral shows up in LGI alone, I’m actually quite proud of her! She may not be beating the allegations, but at least she's not getting one per scene!

Now, play a pure black elegy Let’s dance on the palm of your hand, oh no How does it feel to be devoured by the prey you once mocked?

Let’s start by focusing on what’s happening with Teruko in in the background, because it’s quite sweet. Not only does she start smiling and crying in joy, her stomach is covered in Mai’s signature flowers. This is pretty clear; Mai’s kindness has “fixed” the injuries other people had caused Teruko, her flowers covering up the Xander related injury that serves as a stand-in for all the betrayals Teruko’s endured over the years.

Admittedly, such heartwarming visuals are a bit of a contrast to the line “play a pure black elegy”, which if you don’t know is a “poem of serious reflection, usually a lament for the dead”, and the whole “devoured by the prey you once mocked” thing. However, that’s presumably because Mai is still very much holding a knife up to someone, so we can get away with some darker stuff.

I choose to interpret these lines as these two effectively talking to the status quo of Teruko’s life, if that makes sense. With Mai’s help, Teruko’s finally regained the courage to fight against her fate and stand up again, looking to “devour” the vague enemy of her luck whom she was always the prey to. The elegy, then, is aimed at this vague enemy, who they seek to defeat and “kill.” Does that make sense?

And this is the final link I need to explain my aforementioned “this MV is from Teruko’s perspective” theory. Because, you see, I believe this entire MV shows a story, and there’s an arc about Mai and Teruko’s friendship which can be followed. I believe this MV represents the process of Teruko befriending Mai, from Teruko’s perspective.

Think about it. It starts with Teruko and Mai literally opposed to one another, and Mai effectively being shown as one of the people who “wears the same face” as the others, given she’s following proper table manners. She’s nothing special, just someone else who will betray Teruko eventually, hence Teruko’s almost angry expression on that table. Someone who will bite that “forbidden fruit” that is the ironclad rule of the world. Trash will be trash, fools will be fools, and Teruko will be unlucky and get betrayed.

But then, Mai rejects the apple. And when she grabs the knife again, she points it away from Teruko, even when Teruko was lying on the table and ready to get hurt again. This is also, by the way, the first time Mai opens her eyes in the MV; the first time Teruko and her see eye to eye (per se). Because Mai always trusted Teruko, always wanted to be her friend, and only now is that good faith being returned. Well, I assume she never had any bad intentions, anyways.

Look, from how Mai is usually presented, she may as well be perfect in my books. If I catch her burning an orphanage, I’d probably assume the orphans deserved it. This is hyperbole, of course, but only barely.

And so, Mai has officially broken through Teruko’s bad luck and allowed her to “devour” that horrid fate which had always been pushing her down, allowing them to finally dance together in the end, smiling all the while.

Now, obviously, this makes 15000 assumptions as to how Mai and Teruko actually met, what their relationship was like, etc. There are a million things I may have just gotten horribly wrong. But as always, we know too little about Mai to make any good theories without a lot of assumptions. And with the little we do know, this interpretation makes sense in my mind, so it’s the one I’m currently going with!

Go ahead, enjoy the sour and sweet as you please Forever certain, we’ve been waiting for love Let these cells dance With that completely decayed mind! Nothing will be taken from us Our pain and everything is spinning On the dining table of “life” What a luxurious fool’s table!

Look, by this point, you’ve heard what this scene is all about. Mai and Teruko finally both throw away the rules of society and dance upon the table together, not caring what they destroy or messy up in the process. They’re more certain now, because they’ve found the love they were looking for, and feel like nothing will go wrong because “nothing will be taken from us.” The pain’s still there, but they’ll face it together! What a wonderfully hopeful ending! Ignore that Mai's probably dead please.

And since this part’s pretty easy, it gives me time to appreciate the yuri!

You see, this may be something I’ve only ever brought up once, but Teru-Min-Mai is my favorite DRDT ship, and it has been for a while. And while I can’t find any excuse to talk about Min for longer than I already have (a tragedy, I know), I can spare some time to spread the Terumai side of the Agenda, at least! I’ve seen a few people start thinking about shipping it too because of this MV, so let me make a sales pitch. Ehem.

-Opposing themes: You’ve heard of the “dearly unloved” and “dearly loved” thing from the portraits, but did you know red and green are complimentary colors?

-Looking for each other: I mean, just look at what can show up on Mai’s page.

[Mai Quote - Teruko]: Some years ago, she was searching for someone named 'Teruko Tawaki.'

Come on. Why’re you so interested in looking for her if not to kiss her on the lips?

-Matching phone charms: We see that Teruko’s monopad has a phone charm in 2-1, which she shares with Unnamed Classmate. Btw, Mai’s profile states she likes phone charms :)

-Matching tattoos?: Mai’s iconic flower tattoo is on her left arm, and Teruko’s left arm has always been conspicuously hidden from us. But from the jacket off reference, it seems there is something important there. And from the only time we’ve ever had even a glimpse of it, it seems like she may be hiding the same tattoo as Mai.

-Dream sequences: Teruko literally dreams of Mai in her 1-6 dream sequence. And her dialogue there couldn’t hold more fondness if it tried.

It's strange I would remember her now, of all times. What was her name again? It's on the tip of my tongue, but I can't remember. Xander always reminded me of that girl. Perhaps that's why I'm thinking about her now. They looked similar, with that same red hair and smile. And... they both wanted to help, didn't they?

-Teruko’s favorite color is red “by association”: Considering Xander stabbed her, I think the association comes from someone else. Imagine loving someone so much they change your favorite color wow.

-Apocalyptic levels of doomed: We’re DRDT fans, we enjoy our yuri when it’s doomed. And the second anniversary art makes the doomed-ness pretty clear.

(I have to remake this collage there's like three pixels on it total lol)

The code translates to “It’s all your fault.” Combined with Mai likely being dead, you can put two and two together that Teruko might blame herself for Mai's demise, or at least she would if she had all her memories. This is doomed as can be.

-This entire MV: Like come on.

Anyways, ship Terumai. Or don’t, I really don’t care about shipping much and you can do what you want forever. This is just so newer fans aren’t hopelessly confused on why these two are together in this MV and seem to be about two seconds from proposing to each other; the basis for them being really good friends, if nothing else, has always been there.

Anyways, the video ends with a curtain closing, because we’ve been interpreting life as a stage to dance upon, so it’s a natural way to close things out. If you wanted a sadder reading, you could take the idea that Teruko ends up seeing her relationship with Mai as a play, an act that would always end eventually, because it was too good to last when taking her luck into account. The yuri is even more doomed than we expected, I fear.

And that should be it! What a wonderful MV this was! It’s nice to really get insight into what Teruko and Mai’s relationship looked like, sort of, and I know I’ll personally savor some of these frames forever. Loved it. Happy 5th anniversary everyone, and happy birthday Mai! Thanks for reading! See ya’!

#drdt #danganronpa despair time #teruko tawaki #mai akasaki #fools table mv #drdt analysis

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littleeyesofpallas · 29 days ago

Text

So i got this comment on a Bleach post i forgot i'd even made. It's nd old one and i hate the way it reads so i'm not reblogging it, but I will sort of resummarize bits of it now and add to it accordingly...

Kyouraku no Jirou Sakuranosuke Shunsui[京楽次郎総蔵佐春水]

Kyouraku[京楽] is written with the kanji for "capitol" (the same kyou in Kyoto and Tokyo) and "music," and together referencing the music(and somewhat implicitly theatre) of the city the compound word means "enjoyment" or "pleasure." Moreover it's the root of a few recognizable terms like kyourakuteki[享楽的]: "pleasure-seeking," kyourakuseikatsu[享楽生活]: "a life of pleasure," and kyourakushuugi[享楽主義]: "hedonism" All very directly reflected in Shunsui's overall personality and demeanor.

His full title appends, (no)Jirou[次郎]: "next son" (synonym with jirou[二郎]: "second son") making his title or epithet, Kyouraku-no-Jirou[京楽次郎]: "(the)Kyouraku's SecondSon"

In a kind of old fashioned convention for samurai, the name Sakuranosuke[総蔵佐] is a kind of temporary or informal name. (In the real world they were something a samurai might change pretty often, either as an alias or sometimes as a kind of ornamental name or epithet, but that doesn't get used in media too often, outside strictly historical settings/characters, I assume because it tends to get confusing.)

It's maybe a little strange that Katen calls him by something as informal as a kind of a nickname. On the one hand it shows their relationship is fairly casual as opposed to formal, but it seems to bring into question their actual intimacy? I guess you can just hand wave it as a cutesy pet name thing since he also calls her Ohana(O-[お] being a now rather outdated prefix in women's names, and the hana[花] of course just being "flower." But colloquially it could be read almost like calling her "Gorgeous"/"Beautiful" as in like a nickname, not as an adjective.) in return, but in conjunction with her pretty overt oiran archetype, it suggests the kind of relationship where a wealthy patron sneaking in to see a prostitute doesn't give her his real name.

Although depending on how, either angsty or romantic you want to be and what the genre and audience are, some might argue that it's more open and honest and intimate to use fake names and not be stifled by the rigor of adhering to, or even acknowledging social roles.

It would seem a little odd for how powerful he is, and thus implicitly how good his relationship with his sword spirit ought to be to facilitate that... But then even outside the nickname thing their relationship does seem more than a little strained. His reluctance to use bankai is played off in their dynamic not unlike the aforementioned brothel patron suddenly giving the cold shoulder, leaving the woman asking, "why don't you come see me anymore?"

And in this kind of overlap of samurai era period setting and sordid romance drama that their designs and character types play with, it is a pretty common trope for the naive young man to fall in love with a prostitute, promise her to buy her freedom, and then fail to follow through on his promise, typically leading one or both of the star-crossed lovers to kill themselves with the expectation that while insurmountable social factors keep them apart in life, they can be together in death.

Oh and it's also a deliberately weird reading kinda shoehorning it into being a pun on sakura[桜]: "cherry(tree)," which of course just loops back around to the spring time and flowers thing. The actual kanji used read "General Warehouse Assistant," where the (no)suke[佐] bit is a common naming suffix. The kura[蔵]: "warehouse" bit is normal enough, but the kanji [総] doesn't normally read as "sa," which seems to be shortened from satoshi[総] or satoru[総] which are names on their own. But as far as i can tell, when it's in a compound, and particularly as a prefix, [総] is only ever pronounced "sou-".

Anyway... finally, the given name, Shunsui[春水] means "spring water." (Spring like the season) It's a kind of motif in art and poetry referring to the winter snow melting at the start of spring. As with his overall design it evokes leisure and comfort; the hard times are over, the easy and bountiful times have begun.

There's also some stuff about his sword that echos bits of all this, as well as lends kind of an ominous tone that Kubo doesn't quite follow through on... But I've been over that a few times already over the years, so i won't repeat myself here. I don't know that i've got anything new to add to any of those rants.

It's off the back of this that Kubo gave his brother the name Shunzan[春山]: "Spring Mountain" which is also a common art motif. It doesn't seem to have much more significance than that, just a kind of obvious branch off all Shunsui's existing themes. No new aspects or clever insight to add to the themes in play. Honestly it almost feels like a name Kubo might have considered for Shunsui himself in some early phase of design.

Ise[伊勢] is just written exactly like Ise the modern day city, which gets its name from the former Ise province(now Mie prefecture), but more importantly it's the home of the Grand Ise Shrine, which houses one of the royal national treasures, the yata-no-kagami; a bronze mirror featured in early shinto myth, and reflects the light of the mother sun goddess, Amaterasu. While the later developments of the manga take this reference pretty bluntly, I never actually got the feeling that it was really made to foreshadowing anything. Even retroactively the "reveal" of Nanao's backstory having this link to the Ise temple via the mirror feels like it doesn't actually come from or play with her established character at all. But maybe that's just me...

Anyway, given name, Nanao[七緒] is written "Seven Chords/Strings," as in on an string instrument; could also read "Seventh Chord/String." I don't really know what to make of this apart from that it's implication of an instrument plays into Kyoraku's "music" meaning. (I did have an alternate take on her family name and subsequently a different reading on the full name in that post I reference above, which i wrote years ago, but I honestly have no idea what I was talking about in that. I think I was off on some wild goose chase by the fact that the i-[伊] in ise is actually only used phonetically in Japanese and has no apparent meaning, unless you try and looking into how it's used in Chinese. But while Kubo definite does dabble in obscure and even chinese readings of kanji, this does not appear to be one of those times...)

Anyway, her mom has a name now too, I guess. The name Isuzu[檍涼] is written with the kanji for [檍]: "ilex/holm oak/evergreen oak/birdlime tree" and [涼]: "cool-breeze/cooling-off," like cooling off in the shade of a tree on a hot day. It doesn't really play into the Ise thing*, or Nanao's name. It's also got a weird alliterative sound to it that i don't like but maybe that's just me. I don't exactly have the best ear for this sort of thing

*see comment section

I guess you could argue that collectively both sides of this family all work together to paint a certain classical kind of scene... i don't know what to call it really, but it's a common enough scene of people lounging around in spring time drinking, listening to music, and admiring the scenery. I guess it falls under scenes of hanami:"flower viewing" but I feel like that's more specific than what I'm thinking of... Unrelated to anything but it seems popular in bonsai.

So... Technically in the real world the high priestesses of the Ise shrine have a very particular lineage, where the mythic founder of the temple was the daughter of an emperor, and every subsequent head priestess has in turn been some kind of blood relative to the throne(typically a daughter or sister, but sometimes a niece or even an aunt, or more distant relative). So, even if they aren't priestesses, and there is no apparent temple, I guess that could imply that the Ise bloodline in Bleach is supposed to be near to the Soul King's lineage in some way? Yet they don't seem to be one of the two unidentified royal houses, which you would think they'd qualify for if that were the case (or the unidentified house if we want to pretend the LN are canon and Tsunayashiro count) so it's probably not something Kubo took into consideration or intended when drawing on the Ise name.

It still bugs me that Nanao's whole shtick really felt like it came out of nowhere. not just because it hadn't been addressed before, but because it wasn't even addressing questions anyone as asking. This weird working backwards sort of writing to make up an excuse for her not having her own zanpakutou, despite that fact that Kubo drew her with a distinctive zanpakutou, so it was clearly not some big master plan twist he'd been sitting on for forever. it all just feels rushed and poorly conceived. But that's true of a lot of things in the final arc. I don't think it's because Kubo was "rushed" by editorial or something, btw --i know that seems to be the popular apocrypha-- I think he's just bad at serialization. He used to get in these rutts where the plot would just fully stall out for weeks at a time, and I'm convinced these writers blocks are what contribute to some of his worst writing. He's never exploring character or themes or advancing a plot or even answering real questions, he's just trying to turn his 19 pages in on time.

That's the kind of "rush" I see underlying these weird moments where he just unloads exposition or that he he'd do where a fight would have a big power reveal only for it to immediately fail and be overshadows by a second power reveal. It's just bad pacing and I don't think he knew how else to get thru the fights because it got worse and worse as things went on over the whole series.

#bleach meta #shunsui kyoraku #nanao ise #i set this aside in drafts at first because i wanted to go rooting around for better images later #but now ive forgotten what it was i had in mind for half of this...#so i dunno here's whatever ...#its all loosely relevant #maybe a little overly literal #i swear i had something specific in mind #but i cant remember what now #just throw it on the pile of decaying bleach meta posts in the archvie...

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