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minhosimthings · 3 months

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A La Folie ft. Jay || Part 3

Synopsis: Wounds came and went. All in the circle of life am I right? The greatest warrior among all the kings, Park Jay. For him, seeing blood was like seeing the sky. It was a daily routine which he could not escape. Yes sometimes he had grave injuries, which he wouldn't stop to take care of, with him being a workaholic. But sometimes healers do more than heal physical wounds, and for Jay, you did exactly that.

Pairings: King!Jay × healer!fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, virgin reader, dom!Jay, sub!reader, corruption kink, vanilla sex, unprotected sex (not for you), mention of bruises (reader and Jay), fingering, cumming on fingers eyy, honestly this is all such fluffy smut, FLUFF SO MUCH FLUFF, kinda dramatic sorry bout that, mention of blood, fluffy ending

A/N: Last part babies! So I'll have a wedding scene out if I can but this does it for Jay's part in the French Quotes Series. Next is my baby Jakey, but I cannot promise that it'll be out soon since my classes have started becoming harder. But I'll try hard so enjoy everyone!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

The French Quotes Series Masterlist

'The second born, a mere girl.'

"I pity you, Jooyeon is a wonderful man, it is bad luck with the girl.'

"I'll take care of you Y/Nnie! I'm your big brother aren't I? You can trust me!'

'You are nothing but a mere useless girl, you'd be better off as a wife, trust me.'

'look at poor little Y/N and her ugly little scars. You cannot be seen with us, trust us. Now shoo!'

'just sell her off for some money why won't you! Trust me it'll be good for us.'

'I said I'd protect you didn't I? I'm your brother, don't you trust me?'

"Do you trust me Y/N?"

"What?"

"Do you trust me?"

Trust, it was a word you didn't know the exact meaning of. Your mother told you to trust her, your 'friends' told you to trust them, Jooyeon told you to trust him. And yet trust came in a way you hated. Trust came in a way you despised, and you decided forever never to trust, trust.

But Jay was asking you.

He wasn't blindly telling you to just trust him.

He was asking you.

"Should I?" You fired back, albeit feeling a bit shy infront of him now.

"That's not my decision to take, it's yours." Jay brought your knuckles to his lips and pressed kisses against them, making you effectively giggle.

"If you do decide to trust me though," Jay chuckled, not breaking his eye contact with you, "Would you allow me to kiss you one more time?"

"Can- I mean—May I ask a question instead?"

"We just kissed, love, don't be so formal." Jay chuckled, squeezing your hand slightly. He was terrified of making you uncomfortable even in the slightest.

"Why aren't you disgusted by— by this?" You looked down at your collarbone, to the big, ugly bruise. You had removed the shawl you were covering your off-shoulder nightgown with, and the bruise shone bright in the moonlight like darkness enveloping light.

"Oh, my darling." Jay's eyes softened as he cupped your cheek gently, celebrating the fact that you didn't flinch at his touch, "Why would I ever be disgusted by something as beautiful as you hmm?"

"Can I ask a favour then?" You said, trying to keep your tears in, God Jay spoke to you so softly, like you've always wanted to be spoken to.

"Ask away."

"Could—Could you touch me?"

Jay smiled like a moonbeam, and gently bought his finger to the tip of your nose, booping it with a tiny 'boop!' from his mouth. This was possibly by far the most adorable thing he had done.

"There, I touched you." Jay smiled brightly again like a proud child.

"I didn't mean that, idiot." You chuckled, "I meant the other touch. You know, the one where there's a man, and there's a woman and then-"

"Alright I got it don't elaborate!" Jay wore a panicked expression, making you laugh, "Are you sure? I mean, if you're not we can-"

"I want to know what it feels like." You cut him off, staring at his eyes lit by the moon, "I-I want to forget about what Jooyeon did to me when he forced himself upon me."

You had the slightest bit of courage to glance up at him, and you were both surprised and pleased that he wasn't laughing. Instead, he was looking at you with an expression singular to guilt.

"Would it be alright with my current predicament?" Jay glanced down at his bandages. You chuckled lightly at his sentence.

"I don't want to seem too needy, but yes it's alright."

"Too needy?" Jay leaned forward, trapping your figure in between his arms as they pressed on the mattress beneath you, "Maybe I'd like that."

With moonlight beaming across his tanned skin, glowing his brown eyes Jay looked ethereal in front of you. You let your fingers run through his thick locks that you adored as Jay moved forward to kiss your collarbone.

The soft sensation of his lips on your bruised skin made you whimper. If the taste of honey or chocolate chip cookies had a sensory feeling, it would be this. This was gentle like you had never felt it.

Jay's hands travelled to your waist as he placed your head gently on the pillow.

"May I?" He twirled his fingers on the fabric at your arms, removing your nightgown off of you, at the nod of your head.

"You're so gentle." You chuckled, as he kissed your neck once more, inhaling your lavender scent, "weren't you supposed to be the mercenary king?"

"Don't tell anyone I can be like this." Jay held up his pinkie to you in a childish manner, "Pinkie promise me."

You promptly intertwined your pinkie with his, giggling as he kissed the tip of your finger.

He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your panties, you lift you hips for him to shimmy them down your legs, you didn’t even notice where he put them. You didn’t really care.

“You're so beautiful.” he sucks in a breath, running a finger over your groaning genitalia. You focused your gaze on his long fingers. You wanted them so bad, "May I, my love?"

“Jay, please” you grab at his hand that was teasingly brushing over your clit.

“tell me if it hurts and i’ll stop, okay?” he looks you in the eye, serious. You nod again, feeling butterflies dance an entire ballet in your stomach.

He slowly entered his fingers into you and you gripped onto his shoulders for dear life. Jay gave a few slow experimental pumps of his finger before you were asking for more.

It elicited a chuckle from him and he added his ring finger, just two was enough to stretch you out.

It was a delicious pain of his large digits splitting you open. You couldn’t even imagine how good his cock would feel. His wrist started to ache, but it was worth it to see the way you were taking it so well.

“Is this okay?” Jay asked in a worried tone.

“Yeah, that— that’s okay. Please— keep going.” you had no idea where all the sinful symphonies escaping your mouth came from, you didn't even know you could make them. All you knew at the current moment was absolute pleasure, and the face of the man who was providing you with it. Jay smiled softly at you and curled his fingers, doing a ‘come here’ motion inside of you. A muffled curse left your lips as your legs started to shake.

"Calm down, darling." Jay chuckled, writhing in pleasure at the fact that he was making you basically scream out in pleasure. He crashes his lips onto yours, effectively silencing you.

Jay shamelessly imagines how you’d feel squeezing his cock like this, while his other hand groped your tit, pinching your nipple. You arch into him and pull away from his lips to breathe.

You could feel a pleasurable tightening at the core of your stomach. It was akin to a tight ribbon and you couldn't wait to real free of it. It was pleasure as you had never felt it.

"Jay—Jay I'm- Oh fuck!"

“look at me, love. Just look at me” it was so pathetically adorable to Jay, and he couldn’t deny you, watching your sobbing eyes with his piercing ones, his forehead was pressed to yours and he groaned as you spilled onto his fingers. He was so deep you couldn’t feel it, but you could feel his fingers twitching, and you could feel yourself clenching and coming so hard you forced dribbles of your white come straight back out of your slit and dribbling down between your cheeks.

Jay kisses you through your orgasm, groaning into your own mouth. Your pussy squeezes around his fingers and he swallows up all your noises.

In the rarest of times did you have no self control, and it seemed this was one of those times as you accident let out an unrestrained whimper, at watching Jay's magnificent figure above you.

Slapping a hand over your mouth, your cheeks reddened to an embarrassing amount and you could feel your ears heat up, as they always did when you were either ashamed or shy. You didn't know which emotion you were feeling at the moment.

Jay chuckled softly, leaning down to press a kiss to your blushing cheek.

"That was both adorable and extremely attractive." He laughed, pressing a few more ticklish kisses to your face.

"Choose one, Jay." You rolled your eyes playfully and giggled, "that was.... extremely pleasurable."

"Weird choice of words." Jay laughed, caressing your cheek, "If you want to say I'm hot, just say it."

"Shut up." You laughed, and pressed a kiss to his lips again, his hands held your waist in position.

"You haven't kept your promise though." You said, after a long silence of lovers, lovingly gazing into each other's eyes.

"I'm scared." Jay sighed, "What-What if I hurt you?"

You placed a gentle hand against his cheek, caressing it so softly that Jay melted into your touch completely. Your touch was all that Jay desired at the moment.

"I trust you." You said, looking into his soft eyes, lined with invisible kohl the colour of comfort, "I trust you as I haven't trusted any other ever."

Jay's smile echoed through your eyes like a box of sugar dragons, delicious and soothing. And trusting.

You watched, in awe, as Jay undressed himself, peeling off each layer of his clothing, as if it had been a restricting cuff on his body. You would have loved to touch his abs again, you thought, you could see them in the light of the moon above.

My my, you thought, as he steadied himself above you. He was truly carved from the clay of the finest potter in the universe.

"Tell me one last time if this is what you want." Jay asked you nervously, pressing a kiss to your neck.

"I want this Jay." You confirmed, smiling at him to ease his nerves, "More than you can imagine."

"Been admiring me have you love?" He asked, his voice dropped to a low, husky one, "Is that what a good healer is supposed to do?"

He lined up the tip of his cock at your wet entrance. You couldn't answer him, all that came out of you were desperate mewls as his tip brushed against your pussy slightly, like a soft paintbrush against a canvas.

"Here we go, then?" Jay smiled, before he moved his hips. You might as well have reached heaven, in the next moment.

Gasps, both pleasured and pained, left your mouth in melodies as Jay filled you completely, and slowly, his cock wriggling in your hole, giving your wet walls a sort of friction you both craved and despised, hated and yet loved so much. It was as if the Gods themselves had poured down their heavenly nectar on you, all for your taking.

Jay then began to thrust with a rhythm that made your heart pound and body ache with pleasure. You grasped at his shoulders as he kept up a steady pace, pleasure overflowing with each thrust that went deeper and deeper.

The bed creaked with every heavy thrust of his hips, pelvis meeting yours each time. You cried out everytime he hit your g-spot with such precision— he was so good at this.

“Holy fuck, you’re so tight” His eyes closed for a second, trying to hold his load a little longer. It didn’t take much time for his dick to reach that spot you struggled to find. It drove you crazy. You arched your back and that made Jay go faster.

"Ah fuck—Jay!" You let out a moan of pleasure as the sensations inside your body began to build up, and then without warning, an orgasm ripped through you as Jay touched your inner walls.

"You feel so fucking good." Jay growled, as he lost himself in the ecstasy that was your pussy. You ran your fingers on his scarred back, trophies of wars won and fathers destroyed, and he let out a pleasured whine at the feeling.

Jay's cock throbbed inside of your pulsating hole, creating a wet and sticky mess as cum poured down your thighs and stomach.

“goddamnit!” he forced himself all the way in, making your heart stop for a moment as he filled you up with his molten hot cum.

"Fuck—fuckfuckfuck—oh god-" a string of curses left his lips. He gave you a few more lazy thrusts, his groans turning into little whimpers before he pulled out, shooting a few last ropes onto your arched back.

Your back clattered to the bed, as you gasped, chest rapidly rising and falling. Beads of sweat rolled out from Jay's hair as he collapsed onto the space next to you. If this was what married woman felt on their wedding night, then you didn't know if you were concerned or happy for them.

Silence rang through the room for a few moments. The wind blowing in from the window provided comfort from the heat, and it allowed both you and Jay to return to normal breathing rate. Turning over onto your side, you looked at his almost drowsy figure staring back at you.

"What?" You laughed lightly, "Am I that endearing that you are staring at me?"

"Maybe." Jay chuckled, wrapping his arms round your waist and pulling you into get another kiss, a shockingly sweet one after the heated session you just had.

"I love you." Jay suddenly confessed, pulling you into a hug and burying his nose into your neck, "More than you can ever imagine."

"I love you too, Jay." You said. That was the truest thing you had said all day.

"So....wife?"

"Jay!" You blushed at his words, "How about a courtship first and then we can get married after Heeseung's wedding hm?"

"I don't want to wait." Jay pouted like a child.

Whatever the Gods were doing right now, you hoped that they heard your thanks.

"Someone looks extremely handsome today." Your complement rang in Jay's ears as soon as you step foot in his room.

"Is it you?" Jay asked, chuckling, eyes still focused on his diary, ink tipped quill in hand.

The past few days had been well, with Jay not willing to part your side even for a moment. Mrs Chun was out of her wits trying to figure out how you had managed to get him down, but you knew that Jay was only feigning illness to spend more time with you.

Plus, he started writing again, which was something to found extremely hot.

"New verse, darling?" You said, placing your chin on his head, and wrapping your arms round his neck. He instantly relaxed into your touch.

"New day, new verse. That's the rule." He popped his lips, and looked up at you, to which you placed a kiss on his nose.

"New day, new hours of sleep too." You yawned, stretching your arms, "come on, get to bed now mister."

"Y/N wait—I want to give to you something."

"You got tickets to the new play in town?!" You sprang up, "Jay thank you!"

"First of all, don't pretend to be interested in cinema I know you go there for the sole purpose of staring at that handsome actor." Jay rolled his eyes, "Second of all, come over here and I'll show you."

Reaching over to Jay in seconds, you panicked as you saw what Jay held in his hands.

"Jay, I can't have that!"

"Why not?" Jay fiddled with the blood-red ruby, intricately carved and set tight in the helm of the dagger. The sharp edge seemed to sparkle in the moonlight. The blood of dirt shone on it like cherry liqueur.

"Because- well—I mean it's your mother's."

His mother's

'Promise me you'll keep it safe after I'm gone Jay.'

'Mum it's just a dagger. What's so special about it?'

'It'll be a reminder to you, of happy times, so you don't forget me after I'm gone.'

'Then I won't allow you to go!'

'My sweet Jay, everyone has to go, it's just the path of life'

'make sure to give it to someone who makes you happy one day, Jay.'

"She always said this would remind me of happy things, happy times." Jay smiled down at the dagger, "She told me once to give it to someone who made me happy, truly happy."

He looked up at you with eyes filled with oceans of love.

"If I could describe happiness right now, I would say your name again and again." He breathed, cupping your cheek.

"You, Y/N, are my happiness. And it would make me the happiest man in the world if you would allow me to do this."

He bent down on his left knee.

Your eyes barely caught the glimmer of faded gold in his hands. Faded gold, a favourite of yours, Jay knew it from your late night discussions, especially when you would-

"Would you, L/N Y/N, marry me, and make me the most lovesick man in the world?"

You had once heard about lovers in insanity. What was it the poets called it... A la Folie! French apparently, a common language.

So you answered yes.

Yes, of course you would.

Of course you would stay with Jay, in all his moments, in the moments of mixed up potions, in the moments of fellow kings being overly dramatic to a wedding announcement, in the moments of tracing bruises, in the moments of sorrow, happiness, and love.

You would stay with him,

Till insanity.

Tags: @amazzwon @heeseungshim @kvmariii @mwahvvis @hottiewifeyyyy @sacrificeatmeup @perfectnighttt @yawnzzhoon @niinjo + Send an ask to be tagged!

PS: Wedding scene soon!

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sgiandubh · 7 days

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Hi!

Fitness Anon here…

The brand new photos of S’s pap walk in Soho today remind me of something I wanted to share with you about AM (now AD): Her husband plays football in Germany. About ten day ago there were reports in the yellow press about the get together of thee Munich players and their families as the Bundesliga sesason had ended.

AM was mentioned there with her baby. It was stated that she had previous relationships with other sport stars. None of these news mentioned her being linked to S.

https://www.bild.de/sport/fussball/fc-bayern-kennen-sie-die-alle-schon-das-sind-bayerns-neue-spielerfrauen-664c48952c12487f81715baf

Dear (returning) Fitness Anon,

I will translate the relevant part of that article. It's funny how S didn't make the Bild editor's cut, eh?

He should really stop wasting money on such #silly BS. Nobody - I repeat: NO-EFFIN'- BODY - gives a flying fuck anymore.

Ok, perhaps Data Lounge does give a (static) fuck, but this is what they do for just about everybody in showbiz. S's personal brand has seemingly gone from magic to trash. Let us hope it won't turn into a cautionary tale of sorts.

But onwards to Bild's article: 'Do you know all of them? These are the wives of the new players of the Bayern Munich'

[Photo legend: 'the Bayern star player Eric Dier with his model girlfriend Anna at the secret end-of-season party at the Käfer']

'Are you familiar with all these ladies?

Last Sunday [note: May 19th], FC Bayern organized a secret end-of-season party at Munich's upscale Käfer restaurant - despite the 2:4 defeat in Hoffenheim, the drop to third place in the Bundesliga and the first season without a title since 2012, the mood among the majority of guests was good.

It was a true family brunch! Featuring some lesser known faces... (....)'

Anna Dier: It was love at first sight for Eric Dier (30) and the South African model. After they became a couple in 2022, they got engaged in November of the same year and married in July 2023.

Shortly after, they announced on Instagram that they were expecting their first child. The baby was born at the end of January [2024]. The defender player shows loving care for the baby, as seen on the return flight from Madrid, after the 1-2 defeat in the match opposing the Real. Anna and the little one went there to support him!

Before meeting Eric Dier, Anna was in a relationship with Alexis Sanchez (35). The Chilean record international player formerly was active at Arsenal FC, Manchester United, Inter Milan and Olympique Marseille, among others.'

But... but...

Vielen Dank, dear Fitness Anon. Between three Tumblr trolls and Das Bild, I choose to believe Germany's best-selling daily newspaper, that's been around since 1952.

#anon #fandom #shitshow

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hamliet · 3 months

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Hi....if you don't mind me asking, can I ask your top 5 (or top 3) favorite characters from Hazbin Hotel? And why you loved them? And your top 5 favorite moments from the series? Sorry if you've answered this question before....Thanks....

No worries!

1. Angel Dust. No surprise. He's my type, and I love that he's self-destructive and selfish while paradoxically very caring for his loved ones. The same guy who worries more for his drugs than someone crushed under a boulder adores his pet and is desperate to protect Charlie from Val. His romance with Husk is also well-written, because all Angel thinks he has to offer is his body, but Husk isn't at all going to take advantage of that and meets Angel where he's at: two losers, baby.

2. Lucifer. I think he's a well-written bumbling dad with a lot of love and a crippling sense of apathy brought on by guilt and the dissolution of his dreams that Charlie reawakens in him. I think he's essentially a disappointed idealist, but the story will show his resurrection into idealism via Charlie.

3. Alastor. Our devil on Charlie's shoulder. But he also clearly has a heart, and while I see him getting worse before he gets better, I think the pilot is exceptionally clear that the endgame is his redemption as well. He doesn't want it, doesn't care about it, is merely interested in watching humans struggle... and in fulfilling whatever deal he has with Lilith. And against the odds, he does care about Charlie.

4. Charlie. I love how inspired by Tangled's Rapunzel she is, and her idealism as both a coping mechanism and a potential weakness yet also being her greatest strength--there's so much potential in her arc. She's the only character who never had a chance to end up in heaven, because she was born in hell. Yet she's so full of love and idealism, while still being flawed and a bit naive (that deal with Alastor is so coming back to bite her), that she inspires people around her and the audience too. We see why people like her.

5. Rosie. A minor character, yes, but she has a good impact on Charlie... And dearie, who among us hasn't thought of eating our first husbands?

As for moments, I don't really know. That's harder for me, but in no particular order:

Sir Pentious awakening in heaven as a silly snake and Emily's delighted face.

Lucifer showing up to fight Adam on Charlie's behalf and his malapropism bringing the entire battle to a temporary standstill.

The heaven court scene as a whole that climaxes in "You Didn't Know." Atonement theories for this theology nerd's delight!

I quite liked Carmilla challenging Vaggie before the final fight.

Niffty killing Adam; it was the perfect ending for his character this season.

#ask hamliet #hazbin hotel #alastor #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #angel dust

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itsgxsly · 2 years

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LITTLE LION

Summary: when you became a single mom a few years ago who knew you would find love again in the form of a red bull driver

Pairing: max verstappen x reader

Warnings: teen pregnancy

Word Count: 1268

Being a single mother at an age as young as 19 had changed your life plans a lot in the nine months you were carrying your baby. When your asshole ex-boyfriend dumped you a few months before giving birth, your life seemed to fall from grace at that very moment. When your baby was born, even with the help of your parents you didn't want to stop taking care of him yourself, so you put your studies on hold to dedicate as much as you could to your little boy. But when you saw that the expenses of a baby were greater than you thought and you did not want to abuse your parents' hospitality, you started looking for a job that would allow you to cover the necessary economic expenses and be able to continue raising your child. After a few months of searching and several resumes and rejections, the sky opened when Red Bull, the famous Formula 1 team offered you a job as one of their marketing staff.

That was three years ago, and you couldn't be more grateful to the whole team and what they had done for you. Even with all the comments that were made about them many times and even though there were certain people among them that you thought were horrible, you felt proud to be part of something like that and the family you had found working there. At first it was difficult for you to adapt since traveling with such a small child was complicated, but over time you and Noah, your son, got used to the hustle and bustle of race weeks, your son ended up falling in love with the sport by practically growing up in it. The mechanics and other members of the team loved seeing your three year old running around the garages and even Christian Horner had developed a soft spot for the young red bull fan and his mother, being quite permissive with the two of you.

But the real person who had developed a soft spot for you and your son had been Red Bull's golden boy, Max Verstappen. You two had met when Max joined the team as their driver the same year that you joined them to work there. And being the two rookies in that world you found comfort in each other, and when Max met your son, he fell in love with him just as quickly as his mother. During the three years that you had known each other, you had ended up behaving like a small family, although you had not yet labeled your relationship, Max was already a father to your son, taking care of him with you or when you were not available, always delighted to have little Noah in his arms, and the feeling seemed to be mutual as your boy was always loving to snuggle up in the Dutchman's arms.

It was race weekend and you were arriving at the Red Bull garage looking for your son, who you assumed that since he was not by your side he would be glued to Max while he was taking care of things related to the car. When you arrived, you spotted Daniel dressed in his Renault jumpsuit swarming around the Paddock. You smiled when he approached you.

"Well, if it's not the future Mrs. Verstappen" ever since Daniel had been at Red Bull while you were working with them, he had kept that joke going when he saw you and Max.

“I am looking for Max and his little shadow. Have you seen them by any chance?” You asked him ignoring how he called you.

“I just talked to him and the little lion recently. Max took him because he had to talk about something with his engineer, I guess they'll be inside the garage now” the nickname that came out of his mouth made you smile gracefully and raise an eyebrow.

"Little lion?" you questioned

“Yes, little lion, you know, Max is like a lion so since his son is like his shadow and looks like him, he is the little lion. The rest of the drivers say it too. I think I even heard Horner call him that once” he explained. You felt a tingling and loving feeling when Daniel referred to Noah as Max's son and not just yours. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't love the nickname.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to look for the two lions to see what they're doing." You smiled for the last time at Daniel, who smiled back at you before each one went their own way.

As you walked into the Red Bull garage waving at some mechanics, you came to where you had visualized Max looking at something on the screens with his engineer. The sight before you melted your heart a little more than usual. Max stood with his eyes on the graphics on the screen as he nodded to what the man next to him was saying, but every now and then he moved his head to stare at the sleeping little boy in his arms. Your son seemed so comfortable with his head nestled in Max's neck that you were almost envious. After observing your boys in silence you finally approached them, when Max's engineer saw you he smiled at Max and you and then with a greeting he left to leave the little family alone. Max turned in your direction smiling softly when he had you in front of him. Without sudden movements so as not to wake up Noah, you stood on tiptoe with one hand on the back of Max neck to kiss him briefly. Max removed an arm from around Noah to wrap around your shoulders in his place and pull yourself closer to his chest.

"You know, Daniel said something to me coming here" you commented after the moment of peace as you both watched Noah sleep soundly.

"What did that idiot say now?" Max snorted thinking of everything that could have come out of Daniel Ricciardo's mouth.

“It has not been anything bad, in fact it has been pretty nice. He has said that some of the drivers and some people in the paddock have nicknamed Noah the little lion. He says that it is because you are a lion and he is your son and your little shadow” you told him what he had told you. "He has also called me future Mrs. Verstappen "

"And what do you think of both things?" Max asked you a little doubtful of your opinion regarding his place in your life.

“The little lion thing seemed adorable to me. Being your son, it's only fair that he receive a nickname similar to his father” you knew that Max was smiling when he kissed the crown of your head after hearing how you called Noah his son. "Mrs. Verstappen remains to be seen. I haven't seen any ring yet” you mocked him.

Max laughed at your last sentence.

"I can fix that soon, Schatz." He kissed your head one more time before you both hugged each other tighter than before.

The scene you gave was that of a beautiful family with a long future ahead of them. Everyone who passed smiled at the image of the Red Bull driver hugging the two most important people in his life in his arms. Anyone could see the love radiating from the three of you while you were in your little bubble of love and euphoria at the future that awaited you together.

#formula 1 #f1 weekend #f1 2022 #f1 fandom #f1 #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #mv33 #mv1 #red bull #red bull racing #fluff

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e-yvin · 5 months

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Hargrove Threat — A harringrove fic

Chapter 1. Omega - bitch synonym

When the Harrington heir was born, it was already obvious that he would be an omega. A male omega was still an omega, and even though they could never be sure until he was fifteen, when everyone eventually presented, male omegas were easier to differentiate from the other designations.

Firstly, they are born with a sweet smell. All the babies had soft, delicate scents and some remnants of their mother's scent that would fade over time. However, only girls and male omegas were born with the decidedly sweet smell. Not soft, not serene. Sweet.

Steve was born with traces of his mother's scent in his flesh, and the sweetness of honey that weighs on the tongue. The doctors who were in the delivery room when he was born were surprised, as Steve's smell, still soft but honeyed and heavy in its sweetness, was rare in newborns. Was rare in boys.

Second, because one couldn't hide what you had between your thighs. Or in more appropriate words, what one hadn't.

Male Omegas are born with testosterone in their bodies and without a penis between their legs.

There was no way to hide it, to disguise it or pretend that this was a sign for something else.

The head nurse congratulated the couple, congratulating them on a healthy son, and warned them that it would not be necessary to wait until his fifteenth birthday to celebrate his designation.

Congratulations, your son is an omega.

To their ears it was practically the same thing as saying; Congratulations, your son is going to be a bitch

. . .

Steve was five years old when he realized that his parents didn't look at him the way other parents looked at his peers.

His father's eyes were cold on him, weighing on his small, bony shoulders. Steve didn't understand, but...but it always seemed like his father was disappointed when he looked at him, humiliated. Above that, he always seemed indifferent.

His mother was worse, though.

Steve could recognize the feeling in her eyes as hate and contempt stared back at him.

. . .

Steve was seven when he no longer saw his parents.

. . .

Steve only understood the reason for his parents' hatred and indifference when he was eleven, and they started talking at school more about second genders and designations.

Steve only understood when they started talking about male omegas. Men with women's private parts, with the sweet smell that all the unpresented girls still had, and with a uterus. Men who only had their faces and some hormones to prove they were men.

Steve heard about it, and seeing the images in his books, something inside him...cracked. Something inside him broke.

. . .

That same year, Steve felt shame. Felt the purest mortification he had ever felt in his entire life.

He felt humiliated when that despicable teacher used his parents to set an example of unusual mating. When she used his parents to talk about bitching.

The practice between two alphas, to transform one of them into an omega.

Because that's what his parents did. To mate. To have Steve.

He understood why his mother hated him there.

She had let his father take all her pride, take away her own designation and then fuck another one into her, only for Steve to be a disappointment.

For Steve to be an omega.

. . .

Male Omegas are viewed negatively among their society. Male Omegas are seen as everything a man shouldn't be. Small, delicate, sweet-smelling.

Male Omegas have everything that men shouldn't have. A tight and hot cunt, a fertile uterus and heats instead of ruts.

Steve knows this and that's why at fifteen, he refuses to be seen as anything close to a typical male omega. Because if there's no way to hide what he is, then he could very well be the furthest thing from what everyone expects him to be.

That's why Steve makes into the basketball team. He enters the court with blockers in his scent glands and quickly dominates it. He's good, natural and manages to pretend for a while that he's like them, like his teammates.

Better than them.

If after training he stays behind, plays a little more and waits for everyone to leave before getting in the shower, no one asks anything. There's no one there, no one to watch him resolutely ignore the part of his body he shouldn't have.

He takes a quick shower, hides in his soft, warm clothes quickly.

Pretend he wasn't hiding between layers of soft clothing and scent blockers.

. . .

When they started asking rising King Steve when he would start showing interest in the girls who batted their eyelashes at him, he changed the subject, laughed and said he just wasn't interested.

He knew why they were asking. And it wasn't because they were afraid of their omega king being alone forever.

Some time later, Steve started getting involved with girls. Just girls.

Just betas.

It was bad.

He knew what his colleagues thought when they saw him with a beta.

But he also knew what they would think if he was with an omega girl or even an alpha girl.

If he was with an omega, they would just see two pussies. If he was with an alpha, they would just see a bitch king.

So, he dated beta girls. Normal and pretty girls.

He passed for them like they were candy, and didn't engage in anything other than kisses and a few touches over their clothes.

He didn't allow them to touch him anywhere below his waist. They didn't complain.

It was fine.

Yeah…it was fine, even if he didn't particularly derive any pleasure from it.

. . .

When he met Nancy Wheeler, he knew he was fucked.

She was beautiful and had a mouth-watering scent. She was smart, charming and so slightly shy that it was endearing.

She was also an alpha.

. . .

The first months of the relationship were great.

At first, they got strange looks, strange smiles, but Steve ignored that and continued meeting with Nancy. Chasing after her.

He chased her through the hallways like a puppy, with a wide smile and sparkling eyes. And he glowed even more when she smiled shyly at him and her soft, alpha scent increased just slightly, showing that she was satisfied.

He felt happy when he smelled her satisfaction, but he also felt…unfair.

Alphas never had to hide their scents, never had to put on blockers and cover their scent glands carefully. Because omegas were easily swayed with a fleeting touch to their glands, always a touch away from heat and slick-soaked clothes. Because omegas were seducers and temptations even when they weren't trying.

Alphas weren't.

It was misogynistic, it was disgusting.

But he adored Nancy. He loved her scent, so he never let any of his thoughts about the differences in their lives show on his face.

And she never noticed.

Because he was good. A good omega.

He was good at controlling himself so as not to upset others.

And he didn't want to upset Nancy. Steve didn't want her to run away.

. . .

The first few months were good. Shy, intimate touches. Secretives.

The first few months were good.

The months after that…not so much.

Steve wanted to be more intimate. His inner omega needed that. He needed the intimacy, the alpha's touch on his feverish skin.

Nancy…didn’t like that.

Steve understood.

Nancy was a girl.

She was a girl who had something she shouldn't have, just like Steve was a boy who had something he shouldn't have.

But it still…it still hurt.

Get a grip of yourself, you're acting like one of those people.

One of those people, those omegas, who gave themselves completely to the slightest touch.

It hurt how Nancy had called him an omega slut without hesitation, without even blinking.

But is fine. Fine.

Nancy was an alpha.

His alpha.

. . .

Nancy didn't like being reminded that she was an alpha. Nancy fought with him when he called her his alpha.

He stopped calling her that. He started calling her his girl.

She was still his, so it was fine. Fine.

Steve ignored how it hurt every time he called her that.

. . .

Before Steve knew it, Nancy was his and she was shying away.

Before he knew it she was with beta Jonathan Byers in her room, their bodies close and her satisfied scent wafting through the air.

Before he knew it, he was bleeding and fighting with his friends.

Before he knew it, he was swinging a bat full of nails at monsters in a living room full of christmas light's that wasn't his.

Before he knew it, Nancy was his again.

Nancy was his.

Everything was fine.

The distance between them would disappear again over time. They would be great again.

Boyfriend and girlfriend.

An omega and his girl.

(An omega and his alpha.)

. . .

The distance didn't disappear.

It grew, proliferated. It took hold inside of Steve like a disease, and destroyed everything in its path.

Steve…missed the time when he still thought Nancy was his alpha, not just his girl.

#harringrove #fanfiction #omegaverse #stranger things

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squirrelwithatophat · 1 year

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Anders and the Blooming Rose

It’s a fairly minor part of his character, but I find it hilarious that Anders, "The Healer” of Darktown, really does not like the local brothel. If you take him with you while purchasing “services” from Madame Lusine, you get this reaction...

“You’re not this desperate, I hope. I treat a lot of these customers in my clinic.”

Then if you ignore the warning and do it anyways (you know, because Hawke)…

Anders: rivalry +5

It’s not a moral condemnation, a complaint about wasting time (à la Beth or Carver), or a vague expression of disgust (of the sort Fenris or Merrill reply with) — Anders, the closest in-universe equivalent to a doctor, is warning the player-character away from soliciting prostitutes on health grounds.

One interesting aspect of Dragon Age II is that it contains many more specific references to disease — which makes sense, given the medieval urban setting, where the top causes of mortality would realistically be infectious disease. Gamlen explicitly refers to his parents dying of “cholera,” a highly lethal (even today, untreated cholera has a case fatality rate of up to 50%) water-borne illness, and the water supply in Lowtown is described as dangerously contaminated (Hawke can refuse to drink it “even on a dare,” Merrill refers to something “twitching” in the water even after boiling it). A random NPC asking Lirene about “The Healer” complains, “I can't get my brother off the boat. The grippe's [i.e., the flu] got him bad.” Then there are the multiple references to unspecified STIs, all of which come from (or at least are associated with) Anders.

There’s an amusing line from Anders upon entering the Blooming Rose for the first time (usually but not necessarily during Enemies Among Us in Act 1):

“If someone tries to hire me again, I’m leaving.”

Now, some fans seem to read this as a claim that the Blooming Rose has tried to hire him as a sex worker, but I believe there’s a more plausible interpretation here. (Frankly, I have difficulty imagining that a brothel would be obsessed to the point of harassment with recruiting as their newest rent boy a man in his mid-30’s — and one who, need I remind you, lives in a mine shaft connected to a sewer and notorious for its toxic fumes, dumping of rotting corpses, and disease outbreaks. And no offense to any Andersmancer reading this, but is he really that good-looking?).

Most likely, the brothel is looking to hire an in-house physician (or Thedosian equivalent). Anders is referred to curing STIs and providing other reproductive care. In introducing him, Lirene says, “He's closed their wounds, delivered their children.” One of patients in her shop can be heard crying out, “My mother's in labor! The baby's come early. Can anyone help her?” To which Lirene replies, “I'll send word to the healer.” (Anders may have been delivering babies back in the Circle as well, considering that in MoTA, he says, “At the Circle, any accidental babies are taken away before the mother even sees them.” This could, however, simply be common knowledge among Circle mages). It’s also implied by Wynne that Circle mages practice contraception: “Such births [in the Circle] are seldom, as there are ways to prevent it, but it does happen.” Moreover, Anders appears to be the only person in Kirkwall willing and able to provide these medical services. There are references to useless quacks (e.g., “some purveyor of hensbane and leeches”), but it’s acknowledged in-universe that the only effective healing comes from mages. In DAI, the Inquisitor can express surprise at the presence of a “mundane” (non-mage) surgeon, who goes on to insist that such non-magical methods will be developed in the future, all of which further reinforces the (in-universe) social/cultural equation of healer as mage. Mage healers only appear to be let out of the Circle on rare occasions to treat members of the nobility, but ordinary people don’t receive such consideration. Even the viscount’s seneschal has to seek out Anders for help. In DAI, Cullen casually moons the idea of “healers’ clinics with templar support” (among other potential “opportunities to work outside the Circle”) as a totally novel solution to mage “resentment” over confinement. The Chantry thus far wasn’t willing to release mages to treat sick commoners even with phylacteries to deter escapes and Templar overseers breathing down their necks the entire time; in fact, they were rather reluctant to let out even a handful of senior mages to fight alongside the king against the Blight, something which threatened everyone’s lives fairly equally (and even then couldn’t resist the temptation to make the mages feel as unwelcome as possible). “The Healer of Darktown” was well-known to illicitly (that is, in defiance of Chantry restrictions) provide health care for free to the masses, and this service not surprisingly had earned him quite the number of admirers and defenders. Lirene resists being threatened for information about him by saying, “Any Fereldan in the city would lay down his life for the healer, after what he's done for us,” and a mob of Ferelden refugees even prepare to attack the heavily-armed party out of fear that the latter might harm him or report him to the Templars. His Act 2 Codex likewise reads: “When not with the Champion, he spends his time among the Fereldan refugees in Darktown, healing their ills and counting on their loyalty to protect him from curious templars.” Should it be a surprise then that a private business might be interested in his skills, especially when disease is threatening their bottom line and injuring customers?

In the game, we actually see two frequent patrons of the Blooming Rose end up in Anders’s clinic for treatment.

Dissent (Act 2), if Isabela has been left behind:

Anders: ...don't come running to me next time you pick up one of these diseases.

Isabela: Isn't that the point of magic?

Hawke: I don't want to know.

Dissent (Act 2), if Isabela is in the party:

Seneschal Bran: And that will, ah, stop the itch?

Anders: Yes. Though I would stay away from women you meet in the port. Pirates tend to... dock in unsavory places.

Isabela: I heard that!

Anders: Just use the salve if it comes back.

This is probably also what Isabela is referring to in the opening to Speak to Fenris (Act 2):

Isabela: So the seneschal's tax collector won't be coming around again, like you asked. Funny story.

Fenris: I'll pass, but thank you for the help.

Isabela: Spoilsport.

Seneschal Bran appears to be a regular with a particular fondness for Serendipity, a drag queen (or transfemme?) and one of the highest-paid workers at the Blooming Rose, whose gender nonconformity is generally Played for Laughs. Bran can be seen on a “date” with her at Duke Prosper’s party during Mark of the Assassin, and Serendipity can later be heard commenting, “I haven't seen the seneschal much lately. Don't tell me the man's gone religious” (to which someone responds, “No, he just keeps terrible hours now”).

Isabela, of course, talks about sex and her enjoyment of brothels (including the Blooming Rose) quite frequently. In Dragon Age Origins, we meet her dueling two men at The Pearl (Denerim’s main brothel), and she can (in)famously be talked into a threesome or foursome with the Warden and their LI, although in that game it was unclear whether she was hiring prostitutes or simply ended up there in the course of searching for dueling partners (given that the building had been occupied by mercenaries, and one of the optional quests in Denerim is to clear The Pearl of disruptive mercenaries on behalf of the city guard) or following/checking on her crewmen. In DA2, it is confirmed that she was going to The Pearl for sex, and Anders remarks, “You used to really like that girl with the griffon tattoos, right?” to which Isabela replies with the name “The Lay Warden.”

(For now, I’ll just ignore the unfortunate implications of Bioware depicting a promiscuous black woman repeatedly contracting STIs and unrepentantly spreading them to white men for blackmail purposes. But yeah, yikes).

Historically, the emergence of STIs as a major social problem has been associated with urbanization and military mobilizations — basically, situations in which large numbers of individuals had opportunities for unprotected sex, especially with multiple partners, away from the usual social control mechanisms such as cockblocking parents (and virtually all sex was unprotected until latex condoms began to be mass-produced in the 1920s-30s). Without the safety measures we have in place in licensed brothels today (e.g., condom requirements, regular STI testing), brothels and red light districts were superspreader bonanzas, and perhaps unsurprisingly, medical professionals tended to take a rather dim view of them, to put it mildly. Modern readers often historical interpret opposition to brothels and camp followers (in the military) on the part of medical and public health authorities as expressions of prudery, religious conservatism, and/or misogyny, and to be frank, they very often were. Yet at the same time, in the pre-condom and pre-antibiotic era, STIs represented a major public health burden and cause of disability, disfigurement, infertility, and premature death, and there few practical measures beyond simply urging everyone to keep their pants on (which worked about as well as one might expect).

Circling back to Anders, it's notable that he takes a much more negative view of sex in the second game than in Awakening, during which he seemed eager to hump anything that moved. This could at least in part reflect the influence of Justice, who seems to regard anything other than fighting for justice and engaging in public service to be "selfish" and even slothful (as in demon-y sloth). Or simple aging and maturity. Or, on a meta level, it could be an odd re-characterization due to the change in writer. But I like to think that his newfound discomfort with no-strings-attached boning is an unfortunate side effect of being a charity doctor working into the late hours to accommodate an endless stream of dick wart patients. It's already a shame that his clinic and service for the poor is relegated to such a background element, especially given the role such work would realistically play in forming a person's character. In terms of character development, it would have been interesting to explore how his work in the clinic could itself had a radicalizing effect — after all, it would bring him face-to-face with the tragic consequences of Chantry policy on mundanes (rather than just mages) as well as demonstrate magic’s contribution to the greater good on a daily basis. But this angle unfortunately never comes up in-universe.

TL;DR What I'm actually saying is that the real tragedy of Anders's character arc is the profound decrease in sluttiness between the two games.

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spacebarbarianweird · 6 months

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“one who moves among hearts” being a possible translation of Astarion’s name is brutal.

If we take this translation as intentionally chosen opposed to real world names where meaning is usually not thought of beyond cultural background. like being named “Michael” because it means “gift from god” (one translation) vs. the name was just in the Bible so it was used

If his parent CHOSE “Astarion” with that intent, they probably meant it as “we want you to be somebody who experiences so much love in your life”

But another interpretation of the phrase “one who moves among hearts” could be somebody who plays with people’s emotions. The heartbreaker.

Which is what Cazador forced him to be. Cazador sent him and the other spawn to catch prey, and unless the most recent patch removed it, there’s basically a Kama Sutra in the room Astarion says he brought victims to. Meaning the seduction ploy was, more likely than not, Cazador’s idea.

Also “tar/taér” being the equivalent of a diminutive and common for an elf’s childhood/first name, something they use until they reach 100 when they get to pick their own and are seen as a full adult in elven society… you think Astarion had to specifically avoid elves?

By a multi species society’s standard he’d be treated as an adult, but an elf hears that diminutive and they’re 100+? They’d probably recoil like when somebody in their 20s realizes a teenager is flirting with them.

Like, could they go with Astarion? Yes, but it would probably get the same sort of side eye as like a 24yr getting with an 18yr. It’s technically okay, but it’s so close to Not Okay that people keep an eye out.

Do you think after endgame that’s something he thinks about? He’s been “Astarion” for twice as long as he should’ve, but it’s also something from his life that Cazador couldn’t take away. He doesn’t remember what he looks like, he doesn’t remember his own eye color.

We don’t know what his relationship with his family was like before, he doesn’t mention them. Which I take to mean he was a transplant to Baldur’s Gate. Maybe he had a good relationship with them but they didn’t live at the Gate, maybe he didn’t and moved to get away. Either way, his name is one of the last and most tangible things from before Cazador that I think he’d have a hard time picking a new one, if he wants to at all.

That's a very interesting point! Thank you for sharing! I actually think Astarion isn't a baby name. Elven baby names are short: Arya, Bryn, Del, Eryn. Tav sounds like an Elven baby name as well. Meanwhile adult Elven names sound like that: Ivellios, Laucian, Quarion, Soveliss etc. Astarion is definetely an adult name in form. Why did he have it though, since he was a child according to Elven standarts?

I have two theories 1) People know the difference between baby Elven names and adult Elven names. So, Astarion just chose an adult name prematurily upon starting his career. I think a lot of Elves start using adult names early in life to look older. Plus they definetely fantasize about what names they are going to take once they hit 100 years. 2) This is a weird theory, but bear with me. There are almost no Elves in Baldur's Gate. Especially, Elven nobility. But there is plenty of Half-Elves. Almost everyone with pointy ears is a person with mixed ancestry. Also, Elves are very delicate and short. Astarion doesn't look like one. He has a human male body structure and if it wasn't for his ears, no one would think he is a pure Half-Elf.

Now let's remember the lessons on genetics, especially Mendelian inheritance. If you have the whole population of Half-Elves (mixed descendants of Elves and Humans), you can get children who inherit only one combination of ancestral features. Two Half-Elves will probably conceive a Half-Elven child but there is a chance the kid inherit Human features from both parents or ... Elven features, getting the same set of genes from Elven grandparents.

So, what if Astarion is like that? He was born in Baldur or its area to the Half-Elven family. Despite being a High Elf, he still has some Human features (ambitions and the body type). And because his folks had little to no idea what Elven society looks like, they gave him an Elven name not knowing it's an adult one. And that would explain why Astarion doesn't have a family to come back to. Half-Elfs live up to 200 years. His parents are dead, people he grew up with are dead. And he is just this "stray" High Elf who wo't be accepted by Elves because he is descendants to Humand and Half-Elves.

#bg3 astarion #astarion name meaning #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion headcanon #astarion headcanons

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lampthehealthminister · 1 month

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An Aventurine-centric analysis of the HSR 2.1 Trailblaze Quest - Part 1

I recently finished the 2.1 Trailblaze quest while farming for Aventurine, and it literally fueled my brain rot about him so I have to share my thoughts. I’m just going to do some analysis of the parts that interested me the most (so almost all the parts with Aventurine lmao) because I felt like the dialogue was very well-made and full of symbolism and devices that helped build his character. I will do it quest by quest because I don’t think a single post can handle all of my thoughts even if I ignore some parts of the quests. I’ll edit the things that must still be verified when I finish the next post. If you have anything to add don’t hesitate to comment! I love hearing other people’s thoughts on stuff like that. Also I hope the formatting isn't too weird... I'm not yet used to how Tumblr works, especially in website mode, so if anyone's got any tips don't hesitate to drop them too!!

Warning : Spoilers for Honkai Star Rail’s 2.1 Trailblaze Quest “Cat Among Pigeons” (in case some people still haven’t played it yet)

Part 1 : Double Indemnity

Memory

???: Land of rock, but not water, lightning, but not rain, blood, but not tears. You beat us with your falling stars, you lash us with wind and storm, you chew us up with the cracked earth…

→ I think “Land of rock, but not water” comes up as some of the floating text when Aventurine is in Clockie Theme Park (Must verify)

2. ???: I don't ask for a peaceful death, just for you to tell me — does the baby swaddled sweetly asleep... does he dream of his mother's heartbeat and the sound of falling rain? Please tell me whether this life is all just a fleeting dream...

→ Appearance of the motif of rain, which is surely important (Explored in quote 4)

→ Talk about dreams and life, obviously a way to make a link with Penacony, but also probably to show Aventurine’s real character and views : he is not one to hide himself in a false world, which is probably also why he’s so fervently opposed to the Family. (In my personal opinion, maybe all this opulence coming from the Family disgusts him because it reminds him that some people live a carefree life while other suffer needlessly)

→ “Please tell me whether this life is all just a fleeting dream…” is pretty interesting when you consider that Aventurine was ready to sacrifice himself because he saw no point in keeping his life. But also, here Kakavasha’s life is referred to as a dream, something not real, probably to set the stage for his luck, which is also pretty unbelievable but affects reality, setting his existence in the real world. Basically it shows that Kakavasha’s life is solidified by his luck since his birth.

3. ???: ...Otherwise, why would this child be born to face impending death...?

→ Another link to Aventurine’s mentality towards the end of the quest. It’s precisely because he sees no point in being born to suffer that he wants to end his life. (It wasn’t said as brutally in the quest, but in my opinion Aventurine is basically suicidal, as shown by other examples that I will address later.)

4. ???: Darling, listen... this is the sound of rain. On the day you were born, the sky also sent down a gift like this from Gaiathra.

→ The motif of rain is back, yoohoo!! Just before that, Kakavasha’s sister says that the “outworlders”, the IPC probably, sent the rain, but Kakavasha’s mother seems to believe otherwise. Maybe it’s a hint that the religious belief wasn’t as strong in Kakavasha’s sister? However, I feel like this theory is debunked in the next memory. (In my opinion, the theme of religious belief and the loss of it is still super important to Aventurine’s character and I’ll talk about it when it comes up.)

→ I also feel like what makes this event all the more incredible is that it shows that everything Kakavasha dreams of, he can have, to a certain extent. Obviously it’s also to show that he’s the real blessing, but I feel like it’s pretty straightforward here. But what I mean by “he can have everything he dreams of” is that thanks to his luck, nothing is really impossible to achieve, whether it’s good or bad, which he probably realised as he grew up and helped fuel his gambler mentality.

5. ???: ...Welcome to this sad world, Kakavasha.

→ Again, another link to Aventurine’s mentality. The world has been nothing but sad and cruel to him, so why was he even born?

Meeting Sunday face-to-face

Okay little disclaimer here, I struggled a lot with that dialogue because right from the beginning, I felt like Sunday and Aventurine were both trying to one-up another, while also talking about two different things, so it made it very confusing for me, but I feel like that was on purpose. So I’ll try to share my thoughts as best as I can.

Sunday: I have come to know you very well as a person, Mr. Aventurine. You're diligent, generous, and willing to cooperate. The fact that you succeeded in overcoming many obstacles just to meet me gave me the reason to believe in your wisdom and courage.

→ I start off with the most hypocritical thing Sunday would have ever said to Aventurine’s face. Here, Sunday is very obviously buttering Aventurine up, maybe to make him (Aventurine) believe that he (Sunday) can be fooled. Or maybe also to mock Aventurine for thinking that he (Sunday) would let himself be tricked so easily. I think these lines set the tone of the discussion. We now know that this is gonna be a passive-aggressive discussion in which neither Sunday nor Aventurine will be honest. This is also most likely a hint that Sunday knows more than he lets on. Because he knows of Aventurine’s strategy thanks to Ratio and has nothing to lose, he plays the exact same game as him (Aventurine).

2. Sunday: But there's one thing I must ask you — that is, you've used your wisdom at the wrong place to meet the wrong person and put yourself in a situation where you shouldn't be... witnessing a tragedy that shouldn't have happened.

Aventurine: You don't look too well. Am I making you anxious?

Aventurine: ...If not, then it means I'm on your side.

→ First thing that confuses me. Here, Sunday is trying to tell Aventurine that he (Aventurine) has the “bad” role, that he’s doing everything he shouldn’t be doing, and is everywhere he shouldn’t be, but Aventurine just ignores him. I had to re-read that part to understand that he (Aventurine) is trying to steer the conversation in his direction. Sunday is telling Aventurine that there will be consequences to his actions and his behaviour, but he (Aventurine) completely brushes him off by being condescending. And although Sunday is only being subtle, I’m sure Aventurine understands the implicit meaning behind his words, since this is a way of talking he’s familiar with. However, whether he’s aware of the risks or blind to them is something I have no answer to. I struggled a lot with that part because it’s difficult to grasp their intentions, but I think that the deal here is that Aventurine wants to take the high-ground in the discussion by ignoring Sunday.

3. Sunday: If I wasn't mistaken, you'd just made a serious accusation against The Family.

Aventurine: You weren't mistaken, for depravity is creeping in around you.

Aventurine: There's no need for us to be evasive. Let's talk about your sister. Your sister's talent is unrivaled in the world of show business. As you know, her voice has been out of tune since she returned to Penacony. What's more disheartening, she can't sing anymore.

→ Another episode of Aventurine ignoring Sunday to lead the conversation his way. Here, it seems even more ridiculous to me, because Sunday is basically telling him that his actions won’t go unpunished, even if he’s once again not explicit, but he (Aventurine) doesn’t care. He justifies his actions by being condescending and looking down on Sunday, hence the sentence “for depravity is creeping in around you.”. What’s more, he wants to talk about a subject that doesn’t make sense. Why talk about Robin except to say she was a victim? Here, Aventurine is starting his tacting of “fear” that he mentioned to Ratio earlier. Also, more hypocrisy with “There’s no need for us to be evasive” even though he will be only that afterwards.

4. Aventurine: Who could be responsible for this? Many suspect the culprit is among the outsiders, but I know... you hold a different opinion.

Aventurine: Now, your noble status has become a shackle, preventing you from apprehending the murderer and avenging your sister's death. You're feeling anxious because you're out on a limb.

→ Here’s one of my favourite parts. Here, Aventurine doesn’t outright say there’s a traitor in the Family, because it’s too big of an accusation to say without any proof, so he resorts to being as implicit as possible. Here he’s directly contradicting his “There’s no need for us to be evasive” line that was only meant for show. Also, he assumes things about Sunday’s situation, clearly to try and make him afraid, while still being as implicit as possible. However, it’s very likely that he doesn’t actually know what Sunday is thinking or can/can’t do, he’s just bluffing. He’s also very very condescending in these lines.

5. Aventurine: But don't worry. I am on your side.

Sunday: I'm immensely honored by your concern for me Mr. Aventurine — since you're so selfless and generous, I believe you wouldn't ask for anything in return, would you?

→ These guys literally cannot talk to each other normally. Anyway, here they’re both big hypocrites and super condescending with each other. Also, at this point we start noticing that Sunday’s pretty much not phased by Aventurine’s “fear” tactic, which hints at the fact that he expected it, or at the very least has enough control over his situation to not have to fear anything or anyone.

6. Aventurine: Naturally, you wouldn't incur any loss from this. I just want to reclaim what is mine: my liberty, and the personal items under The Family's custody — the bag of gift money, and...

→ I love the first sentence. Aventurine is particularly good at twisting words and sentences to appeal to the ears, and this dialogue really shows all of his prowess as a Stoneheart. He says everything to please, while also finding a way to turn the situation to his advantage, even though it doesn’t work in this particular dialogue.

7. Aventurine: I'm sure you're aware of the high level of risk I'll be undertaking to bring the truth to light.

→ Yet another sentence that makes no sense. In the dialogue, it doesn’t say anything nor serve anything, it’s another one of Aventurine’s tactics. He’s desperately trying to get a hold of the conversation, to have the desired effect on Sunday, so he says things that don’t mean anything, that just hint at things, that leave enough space for doubt to linger in the mind of the person in front of him. Unfortunately, Sunday is already one step ahead, and it doesn’t faze him at all.

8. Sunday: Mr. Aventurine, when you're out and about, do you always make adjustments to your appearance? Your tie should be on the center line, your shirt must not protrude from your vest, your trouser creases should be perfectly straight, and always aligned with the tips of your shoes.

Aventurine: Of course.

Sunday: But I don't, because it's not appropriate to do so in public — you should make sure everything is presentable and in order before leaving the house.

→ I know that this analogy is Sunday’s way of telling Aventurine that he (Sunday) doesn’t like to take risks, but I feel like it also serves another purpose. This seems like an implicit jab at Aventurine’s attempts to take control of the conversation once more, as if Sunday is mocking him for trying to tie the loose ends during the discussion, whereas he (Sunday) came completely prepared. (In my opinion, this is yet another hint that Sunday is one step ahead of Aventurine, but yet again, this is all very implicit.)

9. Aventurine: ...Sure. The gift money is good enough. I suppose you wouldn't mind that? After all, a merchant can't function without a bargaining chip.

Sunday: You compromised quicker than I thought. Unfortunately, it's a gambler that needs a bargaining chip... not a merchant. I can give you your gift money, but before that, I want you to tell me —

→ I don’t have a full answer to the question “What is the difference between gambler and merchant in relation to Aventurine?” but it dwells on my mind nonetheless. Aventurine refers to himself as a merchant again later (Must verify) but this dialogue is the only moment where he’s called out for it. So, why? Merchant here seems too… plain. Not risky enough for Aventurine. A merchant sells, but it’s mostly honest and without any lies, which matches with the image Aventurine usually gives out : he’s someone trustworthy, just agree to work with him and it’ll be good for you. However, Sunday sees through that facade easily, and denies Aventurine’s false honesty and care. Gambler is almost used as an accusation here, like Sunday is calling Aventurine out on his lies. And indeed, Aventurine does fit the image of the gambler : he’s reckless, enjoys the thrill of the risk, and doesn’t hesitate to play dirty. Even Ratio refers only to him as “gambler”. As for the bargaining chip… it probably fits the gambler more because a gambler is someone who’s in a difficult position and needs a way to escape, to change the tides, which will be Aventurine’s case soon.

10. Sunday: "Oh, Triple-Faced Soul, please sear his tongue and palms with a hot iron, so that he will not be able to fabricate lies and make false vows."

→ Nothing special here, except that it’s quite interesting that Xipe is referred to as the “Triple-Faced Soul” and Gaiathra Triclops is a goddess with three eyes. But it’s most likely just a way to make a parallel between Sunday’s and Aventurine’s beliefs and how the former pushes his Aeon’s creed on the latter. Especially since the Avgins believe making any offering other than saying the prayer is tainting Gaiathra Triclops’ name, whereas the Family is actively nurturing a dream city all in the name of their Aeon. Additionally, here Sunday associates Xipe’s name is with acts of torture nonchalantly, which shows that the Family probably commits horrible acts that they justify with the name of the Harmony regularly. (In my opinion this is another reason why Aventurine dislikes the Family and Penacony as a whole.)

11. Dr. Ratio: You'll have to speak more clearly than that.

12. Aventurine: ...You might as well explain yourself a little more clearly.

→ Adding these two together even though the first one was said during the flashback with Ratio and Sunday, because I thought the similarities were interesting. Put together, these two lines really make it seem like Sunday tricked Ratio and Aventurine by pitching them against each other. Still, Aventurine’s line is obviously less assertive because he doesn’t have any possibility to back out, unlike Ratio had.

13. Aventurine: Is this what the Harmony represents? Is it built upon constraint and coercion?

→ Here’s a line that convinces me that Aventurine despises the Family. He mimics Sunday, who says the Harmony’s name to justify his doings, and calls him out on his hypocrisy. It isn’t a real argument, it seems more like a sudden burst of Aventurine’s hatred for the ways of the Family, but it definitely sets the stage for the opposition between Sunday’s and Aventurine’s beliefs more clearly.

14. Sunday: Should you succeed, you will be able to coalesce into the Harmony and be with your Family. If you fail, you will suffer the wrath of the Eternal Centurion and fall into an abyss of doom.

→ That line… That line man… The first sentence is amazing. Throughout the whole quest, I feel like there's this recurring theme of Aventurine being stripped from everything he has, and this is definitely part of it. There’s something so oppressive and sickening about the fact that if he fails, then the last bit of himself, of Kakavasha, which is his memories of his family, will be overridden by his Family. And I say his Family because Sunday says your Family and not the Family. And while technically it’s the same, the fact that Sunday says “your” really makes the situation fully set in stone. Even if Aventurine is free, he has already been stripped away of all the connections he has to his true self. Even his belief in Gaiathra Triclops, which is unique to his clan, is going to be submerged by the words of an Aeon he does not believe in. Even worse, his beliefs will be overridden by the words of a faction that justifies their violence and lies with the name of their Aeon. This is a fate worse than death for Aventurine, because it wipes out his being, his existence, everything that makes him himself. This is literally akin to being a slave once more. Anyway these are the most hurtful lines in that dialogue I’m telling you.

15. Aventurine: Shameless hypocrites... You took everything from me and still demand the truth? That isn't fair. Your carnival reeks with the stench of cash. Nothing is achievable without it!

→ Last one for that dialogue, it’s not too complicated, but I love the raw anger that comes out from it. It definitely feels like this is what Aventurine feels at his core, and he finally lets it out now that he’s being threatened with the loss of his person. The “You took everything from me” references both material things but also himself. This line is so honest because he already feels as if he is caught, as if he is being stripped of his identity, all because of the Harmony’s effect on him. Also you remember how I mentioned that Aventurine probably hates the Family because of the opulence of Penacony. Yeah well that’s the proof right there. He says “reeks” and “stench”, which both have a negative connotation, to underline how horrible the Family’s dreamscape actually is. And since these words are very strong, I’m guessing that they come from his real feelings about the Dreamscape and the Family.

Memory 2

???: Look, this is just a necklace. But Kakavasha, you are my only family.

Kakavasha: …

Kakavasha: I'm sorry, Sister... I thought you'd be happy. Because mom left you this necklace...

→ These lines aren’t really complex, but they really show how Kakavasha probably had no knowledge of his worth, even as a kid. I don’t know why that is, but living on a dangerous planet and being a kid that can’t really fight or help probably is part of it. However, his sister reminds him that he is worth more than a necklace. Still there’s more parallelism between Kakavasha and the necklace. He says “Because mom left you this necklace…”, but his sister’s first line “you are my only family.” shows that Kakavasha is another gift that their mother left to her, one that is more important than a material possession, yet he fails to realise that.

2. ???: It is important, but not as important as you, my dearest brother... I don't blame you, but you must remember what mom said...

???: Pain and poverty are the trials of Gaiathra Triclops. SHE has also granted us a chance, and that's your good luck, Kakavasha. Your good luck is the most precious wealth we— all Avgin have.

???: You're a child blessed by Gaiathra Triclops and can lead the clan to happiness. So, always remember to protect yourself and never resent the pain and poverty you're going through... All right?

→ There’s honestly something a bit messed up about Kakavasha’s family’s adoration for his good luck, to the point the lines almost make it seem like he’s more important than the necklace because he’s lucky. Obviously I don’t think Kakavasha’s family’s love for him was dependent only on his luck, and nothing tells us that these memories are completely true either. Since it’s all Aventurine reminiscing, he could be an unreliable narrator, especially with his super low self-esteem. However, all about his life is said to be related to Gaiathra Triclops and her divine influence, whether it’s the hardships or the good things. There’s definitely some form of fatalism in Kakavasha’s sister’s words, with pain and poverty being justified with a sort of “everything happens for a reason”, which probably fueled Aventurine’s vision of life, death, and hardships. Especially since these lines also show how difficult Kakavasha’s role was. He’s both the saviour of the Avgins, a blessing from Gaiathra Triclops that can help everyone, but he also has to be selfish and protect himself to keep the blessing alive. This probably fueled his bad view of his luck, but also his self-hatred : because he’s lucky, he has to stay to the side and let everyone die, meanwhile he gets to stay alive, but does he deserve it? Also, in the previous memory, I suggested that maybe Kakavasha’s sister’s beliefs weren’t as strong as their mother’s, but her words here prove the opposite. Kakavasha’s birth and luck probably reinforced her beliefs, since he’s the hope all the Avgins have been searching for ; it’s like their goddess is finally answering their prayers, so why stop believing in her now?

3. Kakavasha: ...Okay. I will swear to Gaiathra Triclops to protect this "wealth"...

→ Not much to say here, except that despite swearing to Gaiathra Triclops in the past, currently he sees his luck in such a bad light that he doesn’t think it’s a blessing, and doesn’t want to protect it anymore. Obviously this fact is related to how much he’s been isolated from all the other Avgins because of his luck.

4. Kakavasha: But Sister... If Gaiathra Triclops was really watching over us...

Kakavasha: Then why did SHE not protect Dad when he was swept away by the quicksand...? After all, Dad went to the Katicans' land only to prepare for Gaiathra Triclops' offerings…

Kakavasha: And where was Gaiathra Triclops when Mom was shivering in our arms? Mom was still pleading for Gaiathra Triclops' forgiveness under her breath until the moment she closed her eyes…

Kakavasha: Sister, everyone praises me for being smart, but I don't get it... If every rainpour was Gaiathra Triclops' forgiveness and grace…

Kakavasha: Then how bad were our sins? ...So much so that we were born in this world of death...?

→ I’m putting this whole speech together because it makes much more sense as a whole than separated. Here, we really see Kakavasha’s doubt towards his clan’s religious beliefs, but also the uncertainty he feels about his role. But because he still believes in Gaiathra Triclops, this leaves him with only one option left : wondering what these trials are an answer to. The last line pretty much confirms that his role as the saviour of his clan and all the bad things that happen despite his luck created his point of view on life and death. He doesn’t blame Gaiathra Triclops, but thinks that maybe there is no point in hoping for her forgiveness if there are so many trials thrown their way. But also, it probably made Kakavasha wonder what was so special about himself, and eventually if he even had anything special, considering his luck can’t help anybody except himself. Because of that, I also think that these words are a mix of Aventurine and Kakavasha’s thoughts. I’m not trying to undermine Kakavasha’s ability to understand the world, but the “where was Gaiathra Triclops when mom was shivering in our arms?” seems so accusatory that I’m thinking that it could be a thought that Aventurine has now that he grew up. Also, the fact that there’s no image when this text is on screen supports this theory : Aventurine can’t link these thoughts to a precise moment he had with his sister, because they’re his current thoughts about his memories.

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deliciousdefendorinternet · 1 month

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in terms of future story concepts which idea do you think has more potential Poppy and Viva's mom? or Bro zone's parents?

since their both things the fandom often talks about either by just wanting them mentioned so we finally have answers or by actually having them make an appearance and be central to the plot of a future film.

and I can't imagine a future film doing both since that would be way too similar to TBT cramming in new siblings for Both Branch and Poppy in 1 film thus making for a cluttered film that didn't have time for everyone.

so yeah assuming either of these ideas do become plot points in the future which one would you prefer? and what kinda thing would you like them to do with the characters?

in terms of Bro zones parents I've said before but I like the idea of them being dead beats who left when when Branch was either a baby or an egg.

and even when they were around they were crappy parents either neglectful or emotional abusive maybe they forced the kids to be the perfect band Mistreating them in the process hence where JD got that whole attitude from.

and in present day they could maybe come back asking for help from their sons which could cause a bit of drama among the family since Branch could be willing to give them a second chance and want to get to know them. meanwhile the older bros don't want anything to do with them and don't even want to help them out which Branch could see as hypocritical given what the brothers did and the fact he gave them another chance.

I wouldn't want this to be yet another rushed forgiveness story tho so I'd have the brothers begrudgingly agree to help have the parents slowly worm their way in with their kids over the film.

especially Branch given he was too young to remember anything about them but in the end the parents haven't at all changed and once they get what they needed with the help of their sons they betray them and leave them trapped.

and here the bros all finally have a proper conversation about everything Branch maybe says he was just desperate for their family to be complete and normal.

and that he just wanted parents in his life for the first time since he was a little kid just like his Brothers did.

tho this could lead to JD Bruce and Clay and Floyd to a lesser extent finally being fully honest about why they didn't want them back in their lives.

revealing to Branch that everything wasn't as story book perfect in their family before he was born as he seemed to think.

and their parents were always selfish and cruel maybe they actually forced them to start the band simply so they could profit off of them and as I said they were the ones who originally pushed for perfection.

emotionally abusing their kids in the process and eventually after they did leave when Branch was born JD could remark in a guilty way that he followed in their footsteps since it was what he thought he had to do to make their family work.

I like the idea of Brozone's parents being used to show a sorta generational trauma sorta thing with JD and I like the idea of the Bros being given a bit more damage to be honest lol.

it helps to explain their reasons for leaving a little better after they saw JD become like their parents used to be and it gives them some trauma of their own to relate to Branch over.

personally that's how I'd use Bro zone's parents as I feel it'd be pretty silly to have yet another film just about reconnecting with dead beat family members who still get portrayed as decent people despite being selfish and crappy.

frankly the Trolls Team just aren't very good at writing those kinda stories.

anyway as for the idea of Poppy and Viva's mother I'm honestly less filled with ideas personally I don't see her as a story concept having as much potential as Brozone's parents.

maybe if she were used it could be in a similar way she left when Poppy was only a baby and Viva was younger and comes back asking for help while claiming to want her daughters back in her life.

she could turn out to be a villain later on who doesn't give a stuff about her family even after all this time and ultimately she's the main villain of the film.

I just feel less inspired by her because overall the Poppy family dynamic is pretty trouble free even tho Viva and Poppy deffo should have issues with Peppy.

while I'd argue having another movie just about reconnecting and forgiving dead beat family members would be kinda annoying.

it is a possibility that that could be the case and maybe the mother is just made someone who Ran away from responsibility but is back and genuine about wanting another shot.

only thing that would interest me in this idea is maybe giving Poppy some angst out of it tho that would also have to include Viva as well.😅😅😅😅

tho given how Poppy was a baby during the escape and she didn't even remember her own sister the idea of her remembering her own mom wouldn't really make any sense annoyingly.

IDK what do you think?

#trolls #trolls branch #trolls brozone #dreamworks trolls #trolls band together #branch trolls #branch #trolls dreamworks #brozone #trolls 3 #trolls viva #trolls poppy #trolls future ideas #trolls 4 ideas

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thenightling · 2 years

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Reasons for and against suspecting they may change the ending of The Sandman

Reasons for and against suspecting they may change the ending of The Sandman for The Netflix series:

There is some speculation in The Sandman fandom that they will change how the story ends. Here are some reasons to suggest it will be changed and reasons to suggest it won’t be changed.

Warning: Here are spoilers and this post is meant for those who already know how the original story ends. Spoilers below.

Reasons it might remain unchanged:

1. Neil Gaiman still wants to do certain key scenes from The Kindly Ones and The Wake. 2. Gregory’s death and Goldie’s hatching seems to foreshadow Daniel’s ascension.

3. Lyta Hall still has a baby born of The Dreaming that has yet to be named. (This is Daniel). And the banishment of Hector’s ghost gives her reason to mistrust and resent Morpheus. 4. The foreshadowing of The Kindly Ones by acknowledging Desire’s scheme to have The Kindly Ones come for Morpheus for spilling family blood. The Hecate / Fates also talk about their own darker aspect.

____________________________________

Reasons it might be changed:

1. Morpheus’s character evolution seems to be happening faster.

2. In Sound of her Wings the story no longer ends with Morpheus throwing grain or bird seed to hear the sound of wings and smiling at it (apparently foreshadowing his desire to die). It also does not have Morpheus recite to us the poem about looking forward to and gratefully greeting Death. Instead the story ends with Morpheus happy for seeing his friend. This seems to be a notable difference that it is friendship that makes him smile and appear content instead of “the sound of wings.”

3. Though The Fates already referred to Morpheus’s son, Orpheus, as dead in the original version of the Calliope story, the repeated claim of Orpheus being “dead” (as used in the Netflix show) would undermine The Kindly Ones’ future reason for coming after Morpheus.

4. In episode ten, among the dreams and nightmares Morpheus is working on, along the shore, one looks like an unfinished re-created Gregory. The re-creation of Gregory could also be a foreshadowing. However the fact that his re-creation seems to be ambiguous can also be a foreshadowing in and of itself for the original story’s own portrayal of Morpheus’s posthumous existence in Hob’s dream as a dream entity now free of the burden of being Dream of The Endless.

5. It would be a delicious irony if the theme of “Change or Die” means this adaptation has a change to how that’s resolved and the audience that might be opposed to change has to learn to accept this change.

6. The Sandman Netflix series has already toned down quite a bit of the more horrific and darker aspects of the story.

7. The Netflix Sandman series allowed Rosemary to live and be protected instead of killed, as she was in the original story. So there’s already precedent for a character living who previously was portrayed as dying.

8. You know DC has been aching for an excuse to be able to bring Morpheus back to canon. It’s obvious The Sandman Universe writers prefer using Morpheus. The proof is in every Sandman Universe title. There’s always at least one scene of Morpheus via flashback.

9. You know that scene where Morpheus and Hob are discussing King Lear? And Hob seems offended that a production he saw “gave it a happy ending.” Morpheus tells him that it won’t last, that the great stories always return to their original forms. Here’s the irony. That’s not actually true. Cultural zeitgeist tells us how stories change and evolve over time. And it was actually Shakespeare who changed the story’s ending to a tragedy and popularized the sad ending. King Lear originally had a happy / hopeful ending.

In the same story of Morpheus and his immortal friend, we also get allusions to Christopher “Kit” Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus, which ends tragically. However when Goethe would tell his own two part version of Faust centuries later, his version would allow for Faust’s soul to be saved and ascend to Heaven where he reunites with Gretchen and Faust praises the “Virgin, Mother, Queen.” (Meant to be the virgin Mary but there are a lot of subtle Paganism nods in Goethe’s Faust so this might be a deliberate Maiden, Mother, Crone reference.) Yes, I am aware that Christopher Marlowe and his Doctor Faustus were already referenced in the original version of The Sandman (and referenced against in the story The Hunt) but this is a fine example of a story that did eventually get a change and many prefer the change. (Myself included).

10. More opinion than fact: It would help with the themes of duality if Daniel and Morpheus were allowed to co-exist. Also, especially now, with the pandemic, everyone is tired of things being dark and edgy. We need more Hope.

#The Sandman #Sandman #Dream of The Endless #Daniel Hall #Morpheus

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neonscandal · 4 months

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I read this from twitter, can I ask your thoughts, Neon? Somehow I felt like there is something wrong in here (this post) :

"Even if Geto was never able to learn RCT or Domain Expansion, at the end of Shibuya we saw how Kenjaku had a better understanding of Curse Manipulation than Geto ever did even after 20+ years of using his technique which indicates that Geto stopped trying to hone his technique.

We're constantly shown through the actions of current players how in retrospect other characters made the wrong decisions when they chose the easier path instead of facing their hardships head on and trying to become stronger themselves.

Geto chose to be the strongest among the weakest instead of trying to keep up the strongest which is another betrayal to Gojo. Gojo says this to Megumi because from his POV, he doesn't feel like he abandoned Geto but Geto abandoned him by not striving to get stronger as well."

Dusting off the haters ✨

Baby girl keeps catching so many strays.

This read is kind of interesting in calling Geto the strongest among the weakest which.. I actually kind of like but that's another point.

I don't know what OP is specifying as far as what Gojo says to Megumi to say Geto betrayed him, I don't recall anything that would make sense to have extrapolated that but we'll put that on the backburner for a minute.

We'll go point by point. In universe, not everyone has the ability to learn RCT or Domain Expansion so let's start there. Mind you, a Black Flash, which is a lot more attainable, is still not a feat that everyone is able to accomplish offhandedly. Nanami, a Grade 1 sorcerer, knew his 4 in one go was a feat. In fact, when Gojo took Yuji under his tutelage, he basically explained that, jujutsu power graduation system be damned, you're born as strong as you're going to be with the exception of the bit of power that is refined/honed. So, for most sorcerers entering into Jujutsu High, they're already at like 90% of their potential. Shoko's cursed technique is her ability to manipulate RCT just like Nitta's brother. It's not like you see either of them offensively applying any cursed energy. The offensive fighters you see who have mastered RCT as a cute, little add on bonus are those who are special grade and with an infinite or godly amount of cursed energy (Gojo, Yuki, Sukuna, Yuta who can copy techniques, etc.). Geto's CT involves eating curses to subjugate them. Subsequently, I'm not sure how much of that translates into actual cursed energy he can manipulate.

The humor of this understanding is the fact that Gojo says this knowing that he unlocked like... a great deal of his own potential and shattered the glass ceiling of his power. This is echoed in Yuji's power ups throughout the story which is also considered anomalous.

Cursed techniques are passed from generation to generation. Of course Kenjaku had a better understanding of Curse Manipulation than some yokel who was born to non-sorcerers?? Kenjaku has lived for hundreds of years. If you've been in jujutsu society for a bit, you have more of a flair for deciphering other peoples' techniques.

Good Will Event - Kyoto sorcerers try to keep their techniques somewhat of a secret. Even those who don't have an inherited technique have something to lose when someone gets wind of what exactly they're dealing with

Toji vs Gojo - There was so much lore about Six Eyes and Limitless that Toji was able to craft a trap around what he knew to wear Gojo down. Over time, word tends to get out about the limits of famed familial techniques. Gojo says, during his second fight with Toji, that there's somewhat of a manual when you inherit a technique but even Purple Hollow hadn't been something that a lot of people knew about.

Megumi in Shibuya - As a reader, we actually watch as Megumi works to determine what cursed technique or the conditions of a person's CT are as he's fighting them to figure out how to best them.

The advantage of simply knowing is shown repeatedly. But if we couple it with the assumption that you're already as strong as you're going to get... why would Geto question it? He's the genius of hard work but even he knew he and Gojo weren't on the same scale of strength just because they were The Strongest.

Now we get to the strongest of the weakest comment which I love because... isn't it just so? Geto, born of non-sorcerers carries the burden of protecting the defenseless to give meaning to his suffering. Kinda makes him seem a little more egocentric than we'd have previously given him credit for, right? When we consider this idea of being the "strongest of the weakest", it puts me in the mind of a few things:

The level of Geto's strength suited his purposes just fine. Geto simply wished to protect. In being able to do so, why would he strive for more? He had no grand design for the power bestowed upon him. Gojo was actually driven to be the strongest, excited by any opportunity to go all out when it arises. Gojo is strong for his own satisfaction. As such, I see where there would be a divergence in motivation and, subsequently, dedication. Geto was just happy being at Gojo's side as The Strongest duo.

A lot of people assume Gojo has a god complex (tbh this link also supports why Gojo is the way he is in general as to my first point). But this spin makes it seem like Geto is more god complex leaning (not completely, relax). After the humbling against Toji, Geto develops a full blown martyr complex before his brain chemistry and ideals radically change. But it's only possible because he views his power as a burden because of its unpleasantness in its practice but also the responsibility for others it subsequently damns him to (search "herd" to get to the point).

There are countless references to Buddhism in JJK, obviously. I'm not a practicing Christian but this idea very much puts me in the mind of Jesus, born of man, scorned by and sacrificed for man. Just another interesting perspective as to how doomed Geto was by the cage of his own morals.

Following Riko's death, Geto does stagnate. In his grief, his survivor's guilt, his PTSD. We see Gojo soaring to new heights with his cursed technique because he can. I'm not sure Geto ever had the capacity given my first few points. Just because he's a special grade does not actually make him on par with the likes of Gojo or Yuta. Obviously, he mastered Maximum Uzumaki, his finishing technique, he used it against Yuta.

The big difference between Kenjaku's competence and Geto's competence with Geto's technique is that Kenjaku was able to subjugate Mahito and co-opt Mahito's technique which I'm not sure Geto had done previously (re: utilize the cursed technique of a curse he'd imbibed). But that begs the question over whether that ability was something Geto could do with his technique or whether that was actually a benefit of Kenjaku's ability to body hop and take over other sorcerers' techniques. Even the Domain Expansion that we see Kenjaku perform later, avoiding spoilers, is not Geto's just because it was performed in Geto's body. It was Kenjaku's own Domain Expansion.

Gojo was very obviously hurt by Geto's defection. Namely because of what he lost, what he could not understand, and Geto's parting words. But I don't think, at any point, he ever felt betrayed by Geto. Least of all by his inability to keep up with him, per se. Why else would he call him, in present tense, his "best friend, his one and only" ten years after his defection? After considering OP's comment further, I assume they are referencing the deal that was made when Gojo goes to collect Megumi.

.... Is that a look of betrayal or a look of regret? Seems more like the latter, to me. In his heart of hearts, I don't think Gojo could bring himself to blame Geto. As far as Gojo was concerned, Geto was in the right more often than he was in the wrong. He was his moral compass, someone whose opinion he valued, someone he could confidently rely on. I think Gojo was more inclined to believe that he failed Geto, if anything. Geto left him questioning himself, as we see in the exchange with Yaga, but it also led him to the fact that it is not enough to simply be strong.

#neon asks #anon asks #manga with me #manga with me jjk #we are the strongest #jjk #stsg #satosugu #character analysis #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #suguru geto #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jjk character analysis #jjk meta #jjk analysis #satosugu brainrot #jjk brainrot

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milknhonies · 6 months

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The Spirit of Christmas Eve

Masterlist || Chapter 1 ll Chapter 2

Chapter Summary: After an unexpected visit from your younger, overly pregnant and concerned sister- you are yet again put into a terrible mood. You receive a night visit from the ghost of your predecessor and fall into an abyss of confusion.

Pairing: Chris Evans x f!reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Disrespect to Homeless People, R4pe Fantasies, Masturbation, Dark Joke about Abortion, Hinted Xenophobia, Humiliation, Ghosts, Swearing, Alcoholic Use, Drug Use, Classism.

Word Count: 5k

Author Notes: This is a parody of the classic "A Christmas Carol" story by Dickens, I hope you come to enjoy it even though the pov holds cruel, toxic and abusive traits.

❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆

09:00am, 24th December 2023, New York City.

Oh how you hated the holidays. You hated the red and green colouring, you hated the carolling groups and bands singing every day in December leading up to the wretched twenty fifth. You hate the baby Jesus in a manager nativity set ups.

‘Jesus wasn’t even fucking born on Christmas. He was a January baby according to Jewish scholars. It was all a ploy to satisfy and celebrate Yule with pagans before encouraging indoctrination!!’

And the smell of peppermint, gingerbread and fatty sugary foods left you feeling sickly.

“Unnecessary calories to dissolve the enamel of my teeth when it comes back up in the goddamn toilet.”

The cold air and the slippery frost brought you no delight. Along the way you would kick the snow men in your walking path. You despised the bratty children sitting on the Santa laps in the malls.

‘Their parents should know half of those fat ass Santa actors are just paedophiles getting their kicks once a year? Yea I’d love a little boy all prim and plump to sit on my lap if I was a sicko in a red suit too.’

You hated the fact they were bringing Christmas trees in the day after Halloween.

“Sure, it spins the wheel of capitalism but God, do they have to look so trashy? Christmas is once a year, not two months long.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed as you strutted the street to your work place.

Your senior associate Marlene who you could’ve considered your friend had a heart attack early that year. She was a woman in her prime, at forty years old she had managed to build her business empire. No husband, no kids, no pets. She didn’t need those things, not when she raked in over four million dollars a year. She drank and smoked like a chimney, you wondered if it contributed to her death in the end. She was rumoured to be found naked, getting fucked by some no name sexy twenty-one year old playboy from South Korea. And among her blissful orgasm, her heart just couldn’t handle the pressure and faltered.

Imagine his horror. Balls deep and not knowing she had died. Little shit tried getting her money in the inheritance scheme. He tried pushing that he was her long committed boyfriend. One threat to the immigration department sent that kid running for the kills back to Seoul.

You were named successor in her Will. Now, it’s not like you needed her millions, you already had a full pocket. At twenty five you’d made your first million all because you picked the right pattern in your investments and put every cent into them. You worked instead of partied. And many had said behind your back that it made you a miserable sourpuss bitch with no friends. You didn’t need friends. Marlene was just a funny coincidence.

Some might have called you careless, impulsive, and greedy. But what that translates to you was the word ‘Wealth and Success’. You were wealthy and money made you happy. The more numbers, the more joy in your cold heart.

You entered the building that was now yours. Oh did I forget to remind you...you were the CEO of your tax collecting firm. I think that’s important for you to know.

Entering the sleek grey, white and black minimalist foyer you sighed in relief. No Christmas or holiday bullshit in here. You had banned all decorations and affiliations.

And you refused paid leave to anyone asking not to work on Christmas day. You remember scoffing last night at the amount of requests you had received about time off for the holidays.

‘I’m running a business, not a charity.’

Christmas was the best time of year for your job. So many stupid people take out stupid loans they can’t afford especially during the holidays period when gift giving is the centre cause of financial stress. You got a thrill out of denying loans and upping payment interest rates for those suckers who didn’t make their payments on time because they chose to spend the money meant to be going into your pocket on some disposable wrapping paper and a cheap pharmacy gift last minute.

As you stepped into the elevator you smiled cynically at the empty space. You could look at yourself in the mirror and pick apart all the things you loved and hated about your body. It was strangely therapeutic. Something about the critiques gave you a massive high.

But just as the elevator doors where closing a hand slammed hard through the gap.

“Wait!” came a familiar cry. Your face fell and you felt a tight discomfort seeing the face of your younger sister. Caroline.

Your eyes shot down to her belly. Big as a house in the ugliest knit Christmas sweater.

‘Pregnant again. Jesus Christ. What’s this? Number four now?’

You clenched your handbag tighter. You tried recalling some sort of baby shower invite from months ago, you totally forgot about it once you moved it to junk mail.

‘If she fucking asks me for money again, I swear to god she’s risking an abortion voucher in a Christmas card...are abortion vouchers even a thing?’

Caroline had married her highschool sweetheart, he was some sort of mechanic or something. A bum, like your Dad. You couldn’t believe she was dumb enough to breed with an imbecile like him. Mind you, her first son was clearly an teen pregnancy accident that sealed them together. And every year, she just seemed to pop out a new one. And every year that meant you gave her a fat cheque, usually six thousand dollars.

You ground your teeth as she forced herself inside and pressed the button of the doors shut immediately, not at all taking notice of you until mid way moving up in the building.

Her face lit up and she shrieked in delight at seeing you. You strained a smile.

‘Yea, definitely looking for a handout.’

“Oh my god! I was about to fight security to come see you sissy!” she forced her arms around you. You bit your tongue. You hated hugs.

“Well…lovely seeing you too,” you muttered before awkwardly patting her back.

Her breath hitched at seeing the look on your face, “Sorry about not pre-warning, I did try calling you but your phone keeps going to voicemail.”

‘Oh good, she still hasn’t figured out I let them ring out.’

“And you didn’t reply to my emails.”

You fought a smirk, ‘because they go straight to junk mail’.

She smiled and babbled happily, “Anyway, I had to come here because I need to give you-“ she huffed and swiped a bead of sweat from her forehead before reaching into her nappy bag (that she treated like a handbag.) and retrieved a thick red envelope.

She handed it to you. Your manicured nails pinched the ugly stickers one of your nephews or nieces had chosen. Scribbled in absolute chicken scrap handwriting was your name, most likely also done by your nephew or nieces.

The elevator opened and you sighed, marching out to enter the offices with your solo office space down the hall with the largest window and finest view of the city below. You didn’t expect your sister to tail you. She waddled like a fast duck following you.

“I was thinking you should meet this guy that babysits-” She was talking to you about something but in all honesty, you weren’t listening until she mentioned the cursed words, “-Christmas Party.”

You deposited your handbag on your desk and spun on your heel. Your eyes wide, your smile straining into a sneer.

You snickered cruelly and laced your fingers together, “How many times have we discussed this? I. Don’t. Celebrate. Christmas. I don’t do presents, I don’t do carolling, I don’t do secret Santa’s and I sure as fucking hell don’t do Christmas Parties. I’m glad that you and Tim have fun with your kids and do all that meaningless stuff to shield them from the big bad world. I however am not in the mood for it. Work comes first. This is one of the busiest years of my life, the market is at an all time high in interests rates.”

She looked like she was growing smaller with every foul word that dripped like acid rain.

“It’s just one day, not even a full day. Just a few hours, not far from you,” she whispered and rubbed her belly comfortingly.

You shook your head and circled around your desk, “Might as well get this over with, you don’t need to ploy me with booze.”

You pulled out a cheque book from your drawer and slapped it down. You bent over and fished out a pen, pressing the ink to the slim piece of paper.

Your voice came out like a bark, “How much are you wanting this year?”

“Wh-what?” your sisters eyes grew wide.

You sighed and rolled your eyes, with a condescending tone, “How much money do you want to cover all the gifts? I hear Disneyland is great this time of year in Florida. I need a number. I have a busy day ahead of me so I’d just like to get this over and done with.”

Your sister didn’t answer. You glanced up. Her face was no longer smiling. She looked in pain. Her hand sat on top of her belly. She hissed and breathed out hard.

Her eyes were dimming down. She lost the joyful spark. She waddled to the guest chair in front of your desk and sat down.

She put the nappy bag on the floor.

‘great, thanks for the smell of cornflakes and breast milk on the carpet.’

Her breath turned husky and you started to reach for your desk phone ready to call a bloody ambulance to take her to the hospital. You couldn’t tell what the hell was wrong with her and prayed she wasn’t going into labour. You didn’t need to waste five thousand dollars on a carpet replacement because her waters might break.

Her eyes glared up at you as she tried to focus on pacing her breath. God, she looked like your mother with that look. It hurt. She got the best genes you had to admit. Even while pregnant she had this way about her that made men just want to beg for her number. You couldn’t tell if it was her ditsy personality or just good looks.

“Jim," Caroline corrected with strain, "-and I don’t need your money. We don’t want it. We have never have wanted it. This year, I just want you to put in the effort to spend Christmas with us as a family. You and I haven’t shared a Christmas since I was in middle school. My kids want their aunty to visit because I tell them you’re the coolest person alive...” her eyes narrowed, “Put the fucking cheque book away, and come to fucking Christmas dinner at least. It’s going to be at my house if you look at the invite that your nephew and nieces made special for you. They don’t want presents, they just want to see their aunty. Besides.... I told them you’d come if they put extra love into it.”

You chewed your inner cheek and stood up straight, crossing your arms and sat on the edge of your desk.

“You shouldn’t lie to your kids, Caroline,” you coolly said with icy impact.

You watched her eyes start to shine and water.

“Jesus,” you muttered, “Don’t fucking cry.”

She broke down immediately. You sighed with annoyance. ‘why did she have to come today of all days and act like this. It’s not a big deal. God.’

“You’re such a bitch and my kids have done nothing to you except love you unconditionally. The least you can do is show up,” Caroline struggled to stand out of the chair and when you reached out to help, she snapped like a firecracker and hissed, “Don’t fucking touch me.”

She groaned as she bent down, holding her belly and reached for her nappy bag, that she let you help her with. She suddenly looked so tired and deflated compared to when she had ducked into the elevator. You started to feel a tick of that itchy sympathy. Pregnancy always looked hard. Her first birth was so difficult, the second slipped right out but she didn’t have an epidural and the third time was an emergency c-section. In fact you weren’t even sure if she was meant to be having this fourth baby. It would be too risky. She could honestly kill herself. Now that was a bolt of fear that coursed through you.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” you sniffled, trying to distract your little sister from her anger.

She looked even more offended and scoffed, “You know, if you had even tried to come to my baby shower, you could’ve eaten one of the gender reveal cupcakes.”

‘Ouch.’

You looked down at your Valentino pumps. Seven years younger than you and she still managed to put you in your place with the snap of her fingers.

She rubbed her wet eyes with the tips of her fingers.

“I worry about you...” she mumbled, “You might have a lot of money Y/N, but money can’t buy you everything. Don’t you want to share memories?”

You tried hiding the laugh limbing your throat,, “Not this argument again...come on, I’ll walk you out and hire you a cab.”

You escorted her back to the elevator, all your employees watching and whispering about it. You knew your office needed thicker glass.

As you quietly pressed the button down, your sister finally said, “It’s twins. A boy and girl.”

You didn’t say anything for a while. Eventually you only nodded and whispered, “Congratulations. You and Tim must be excited.”

“Jim," she grounded, "-and I are flat out on our feet with the others but yea...I’m thinking about naming the girl after mom.”

Again you didn’t respond. You wanted this interaction to be finished. You wanted to go to work and drink away the days leading up to New Year’s. Maybe you should take a trip overseas. You might run into a handsome one night stand with an attractive accent.

Your sister turned and hugged you again, she rubbed her sweet face into your shoulder and sighed, “I’m sorry for snapping. Please don’t be mad. Please promise me you’ll come to the party, even for five minutes.”

Her pleading eyes finally cracked your ice wall.

“Fine. Five minutes.”

The squealing giggle of delight made you groan internationally instantly regretting your words. Nonetheless you took it upon yourself to at least hug her back. God help you, you didn’t know how you’d survive.

❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆

10:00pm, 24th December 2023, New York City.

On your way home you discovered with aggravation all the cabs and ubers nearby had been booked up and the traffic in the city horrendous. Of course. On Christmas eve it would look like this. You decided to march your way to the subway. It would be the quickest way back home.

You had to cross the park to get there though.

And among your walking you passed a man laying down on a bench. He wore a baseball cap that hid his face. He wore a blanket over his shoulders. A puff of cold air escaped his pink lips.

His shadowed face peered up at you and held up a piece of cardboard that read the following: Homeless, please donate a food and blankets.

And something inside you cracked again. You fought the urge to pull out your purse and give him the only hundred dollar bill you had. You looked him up and down. And froze. Next to him was a bottle of liquor. Something malicious dripped from your lips. Words filled with cruelty and hate. It was bold and dangerous. But you bet he was drunk.

“What’s wrong? Aren’t there any shelters taking in scum? Are all the prisons full? Maybe if you got off your ass and got a real fucking job, you would be too busy making money instead of swilling down booze!”

He did not react in the way you expected. He smiled at an ankle, winked and held a finger up to his lips.

Your face curdled in disgust and hacked back your throat, spitting on him.

“Booze bum,” you muttered, and marched on, away from him.

Your chin jerked high. It was a method of teaching you had learnt in your youth. Shame someone until they commit to a goal and out perform it. To this day you are still doing that very thing, why not share that gift of knowledge with others?

You scowled the entire train ride home and flicked through your emails.

❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆

11:10pm, 24th December 2023, New York City.

Alone in your penthouse apartment, you padded your way to bed scrolling through your phone. In your hand you cradled a wine glass and set it on the bedside table.

Beneath the soft cotton covers you sighed happily and used your phone to command the fireplace to be lit up. A fake flame on a flat screen tv with heaters all around you, filling your place with warmth. Laying back into your pillows you scrolled your phone and frowned at all the Christmas themed posts online, all the tutorials and recipes you’d never follow and all the Christmas stories you’d never read.

Tossing the phone beside your wine glass, your hands snuck down into a drawer and retrieved your absolute best friend in the world. She was thick, long and quiet, totally sky blue and had twenty different settings. You slid the vibrator under the covers and shimmied out of your underwear. Your fingers fumbled, touching your wet cunt.

The alcohol was finally hitting you, warming you up. You weakly reached for your vibrator. You knew it would be a comfort to take away the anger and stress away from your day at work.

You pressed the silicone to your clit and switched on the toy. A soft sigh came from you as you rubbed it along your lower lips. You fluttered your eyes shut and tried to imagine a person and you having sex.

‘A policeman? No. College professor? No. Loser doorman? No…’ and then your eyes flickered in a quick vision of the homeless man from the park… ‘Yes. He must be miserable, pissed off, angry, he smiled but that would have been a lie, his long finger he held to his mouth should stuff itself inside me.’

Your hand slid up and pulled down the front of your night down. You dug your nails into your breast before tugging your nipple hard. You whined as you bucked your hips into your toy that you playfully prodded and tore out of you. You imagined that same stranger ripping your dress from your body and dragging you into the snowy woods.

Rape fantasies weren’t uncommon for you. It was something about the power struggle that sent thrills up and down your spine. You liked the pain. You liked being forced to give up your control. You slid the plastic cock deep into your slick pussy and mewled.

The homeless man would hold a knife to your throat and bend you over a log, no, no, that bench, so out and open and public for anyone to catch him tearing you apart. His hand would lick your skin in stinging slaps. The alcohol on his breath would be putrid. He’d call you names, whore, slut, bitch, cunt, fuckpig. And you would be totally helpless…

You lazily rolled over onto your belly and forced your ass up, your bed sheets falling down your thighs.

You pushed the dildo back in deep and turned on the highest setting, biting the pillow under you. You fucked yourself hard until it hurt.

The homeless man fantasy went on and on, forcing you to cum and cry. You didn’t care if neighbours or tenants below you heard. You imagined this terrible man after fucking you raw making you sit in his filthy lap, fucking you with the empty liquor bottle neck and letting strangers walking past the chance to spit on you and slap you until you cummed.

The fantasy didn’t have a fanciful ending fleshed out. You could only imagine him dragging you back to some ghetto homeless tent village under one of the city bridges and whoring your cunt out to his homeless buddies. You wanted to submit, to be used like that…

But not in the real world. Fuck no. Your reputation mattered greatly. You were too stubborn to willingly date a man and ask him to do something taboo like consensual non-consent play.

You tore the blue cock out and pressed it to your clit, riding out an ultimate orgasm that left your body feeling like jelly. Slumping forward you groaned into the pillows, you knew you had to eventually get up and pee. The alcohol still in your system made the journey feel almost impossible. But when your bare ass hit the seat, you leant back and sighed. 'UTI prevented!'

Getting back to bed wasn’t as hard as getting to the bathroom. You breathed in the smell of your own sexual prowess. No shame. You put away your toy and before you could search for your discarded underwear, you heard your phone pinged. You grunted with annoyance.

You glanced at the screen; it was a text from Caroline.

*Told the kids you are coming tomorrow! They’re so excited to see their aunty! Xoxo*

‘oh right…her Christmas party…it’s tomorrow…' you still hadn’t even looked at the invitation. Anger started burning its way into your chest when you saw the emojis and gifs she attached. Santa and reindeers and snowmen. God you fucking hated Christmas!! She didn’t need to remind you. You didn’t plan to be there longer than the strick three hundred seconds. The miserable evil stabbed your heart again.

It out you so over the edge you began to type, *Tell them I changed my mind, I’m busy.*

Before your thumb could slam on the message send, something strange occurred. The penthouse apartment lights started to flicker on and off repeatedly.

‘A circuit must’ve snapped. I know I turned off all the lights.’

You slammed your phone down and ripped off your bed sheets. Marching over to the telecom beside you door you prepared the mental speech of anger and abuse you’d deliver on whatever poor soul was handling the front desk of the apartment complex tonight.

You pressed the button hard and when no welcoming comment came you decided to wait.

You waited and waited and still no one acknowledged you over the telecom. There was a noise coming from it though. It was a sound of ragged breathing. Squinting with absolute judgement you hissed into the microphone.

You sobered up your voice and rubbed your eyes. Your wine was knocking around your insides at that point, it had polluted your blood. You just needed to stay awake for a little longer.

“This is penthouse three. Your lights are dimming and flickering out. I want someone to change all that bulbs and check the power wires immediately. Do I make myself clear?”

The unusual panting was still there and getting louder. You shook your head. Someone should’ve been repeating back your request and discussing a mode of action.

“Hello?” you angrily huffed into the microphone when no answer came for a long time.

You hissed, “Now you listen here. I don’t give a fuck it’s Christmas eve. You’re job is on the line if you cant fix my fucking lights.”

And then the line went totally dead and your apartment was entirely darkened. You groaned with anguish. Using your phone flash light you returned to your room.

“Fine,” you grumbled as you pulled the covers Of your bed back again, “Probably too drunk on eggnog to give a damn. Say goodbye to those two dollar tips dickhead.”

You laid back and fished out your bonnet, carefully lipping your hair inside the protective layer. You rolled onto your side under the covers and shut your eyes.

❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆ ❆

12:00am, 25th December 2023, New York City.

For some reason at 12am you received a very obnoxiously loud phone call. Blindly you reached for it and accepted the call. You had a suspicion it was a prank call from overseas.

“Y/N,” said the caller. Your eyes cleared up fast at the sound of a voice you knew too well.

You almost dropped your phone. Surely it wasn’t her calling. You had seen her body at her funeral. She chuckled on the other side, her voice was just as rusted as you remembered. In the dream she had come over to your house and had a sleep over together.

Your eyes widened, “Wh-who is this?” you asked, “Do you fucking know what time it is?”

The identical voice of your passed companion echoed back, “In life you knew me as Marlene Jeong.”

You hung up the phone fast and sat up straight. Her hands trembled and the phone screamingly made another phone call from the same unknown number.

You answered it and heard her shriek, “Don’t you know hanging up like that is rude.”

You took a deep breath in. And shut your eyes. No. It couldn’t be.

“This prank isnt funny,” you barked into the receiver.

“Well I’d hope not. You know I wasn’t a fan of funny,” she grumbled back.

You picked up the phone and huffed, “If you’re really Marlene...tell me something only I would know...”

The phone went quiet and clicked off. You smirked, 'Yea, that's what I thought you sick fuck.'

The air around you grew colder. With the power out you accepted that the central heating was out too. Getting out of bed you stumbled down the hall to the linen cupboard and pulled out a few more thicker blankets. When you returned back to your room you screamed and jumped ten feet in the air, dropping the load of blankets.

Marlene was sitting on your bed, scrolling through your phone. She was not herself and yet was at the same time. She looked the same except for the fact her entire body was a light blue and translucent. She was naked. And you could see her translucent organs. In her hand was a false spiritual cigarette. Smoking rising from the tip and faded into the darkness. And don’t let me forget a important detail. She was floating and parts of her body wrapped in chains.

Hearing you, she turned her face away from your phone and winked. You slammed back into a wall, trying to get away from her as she floated closer to you. She took a mean drag of her cigarette and blew the smoke into your fear filled face. You could’ve fainted. The smoke didn’t smell like anything and was rather a cold breeze to your cheek.

You flinched and whimpered, “Marlene...what the fuck.”

She smirked and rolled mid air upside down,

“Long time no see. Or well...you can’t see me but I see you basically every day,” she cackled.

Your lips fell apart, “Wha-how- why...why are you hear? Should you be dead?”

She flicked the cigarette of ash that turned into blue light specs and disappeared before touching the floor.

“Oh trust dear, I’m dead, dead as a doornail. Little Kyong gave me a killer orgasm, literally,” she took another long drag, “I had no clue what was coming and poof! I’m on the floor choking and groaning and next thing I wake up to, is you moving your shit into my office and my penthouse. But I digress sweet snake...I’m not here on a social call...I’m here to send you a warning.”

Your head felt dizzy, “A warning? The fuck? Am I going to die soon or something?” you wrapped your arms around yourself.

She smiled and shook her head, “Oh no...no, no....something a tad more painful. See, I have been sent to play 'angel Gabriel' so to speak and inform you of a supernatural message.”

She floated around, chains at her wrist dragged behind her as she did. Marlene sharpened her gaze at you.

‘Woah did I take one too many Percocet with my wine...I must be high.’

“You are saveable unlike my dead cold self,” she said flying back to your bed and lewdly laying down, “My dead frozen heart could not thaw,” she sighed and tapped her chest.

You could see inside her at the organ most resembling heart was literally made of icy and was not beating. It was disturbing.

“I’m destined to float while tethered to the world unseen, unheard, unloved…forgotten. But you? You still have a chance to atone. A spirit shall arrive and come to you in three shades…Christmas past, present and future. It shall greet you hourly between one and three o’clock.”

You timidly stepped closer.

“You need to open your mind and open your heart or else-“ she floated above you and groaned, “This will be your future fate.”

You rubbed your eyes and slapped your cheek. Marlene’s ghost was still there. She held up her wrist, showing off the manacle around it, “This is a fate no one wishes, trust me on that.”

Her face leant in closer to your face. Her hair floated around her like water tendrils.

She rattled the chains together, clinking them and explained, “The spirit will test you. And they will test you fairly. They will decide what to do with you after. They call themselves, Christmas past, present and future.”

When she had said these words, Marlenes ghost faded away, disappearing into the cold, quiet night. It took you a few minutes to catch your breath. You couldn’t believe or make sense of it and no matter how many times you pinched of slapped yourself, you found yourself still in the unexplainable dream. You tossed the blankets from the floor onto the bed. You had another drink of wine before you chose to return to bed. You tugged the warmest and softest blanket up to your chin. You were scared and confused. Your eyes grew heavier as you forced yourself to forget and ignore the apparition of Marlene chained nude and talking in riddles.

You laid your cheek into the pillow and fell into a deep slumber.

HELPINES:

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers.

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline services

India Helpline Services

#chris evans x female reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #chris evans x reader #chris evans #dark!chris evans #tsoc

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echoes-lighthouse · 19 days

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Tate and Echo: The Full Story

I'm trying to get all my lore for my selfships down on paper, and people said they would be most likely to engage with text posts with illustrations, so that's what I'm doing! I'm writing them so that they're hopefully understandable to people who don't know the source material (in this case, American Horror Story Season 1)

Previously: Toga

This selfship is pretty damn dark because of the source material being a horror show, so content warnings for murder, ableism, abuse, sexual assault, school shootings, suicide, toxic relationships, self harm, and parent/child death. Also I really struggled to summarize the ending to the story, because it's a bit of an eldritch ritual thing that only makes sense in the context of the story I haven't written lol

Chapter One: Backstories

Tate Langdon was born in 1977, the youngest of three siblings and the first to be born without a disability. Accordingly, he grew up as his abusive mother’s ‘golden child,’ trying to protect his siblings and ultimately failing. His father allegedly ran away with an affair partner when he was six years old, leaving him the “man of the house” according to his mother (who had, in fact, killed his father and the affair partner).

When Tate was 17, his older brother was murdered with the direction of his mother, who didn’t want him taken away from her due to her abuse (chaining him in the attic). Tate tried to kill his brother’s murderer, then killed fifteen people at his school, Westfield High, and committed suicide via police.

Tate died in the property known as “the Murder House,” in which all people who die there remain in the house as ghosts, to serve an unknown hunger that lingers in its history.

Echo Makovsky was born in 1987, an only child. They grew up happily, a third-generation witch with traditions passed down from their grandmother. They occasionally struggled with their powers, but ultimately graduated high school and went into a teaching degree.

In 2012, everything went wrong for Echo: their best friend died in a car accident, their parents both passed away in the span of eight months. They took two months of bereavement, and then left their job altogether. By the next year, they had taken a new job teaching in the US, and they were looking at places to stay.

While visiting for an interview, they took a tour of the Murder House and were immediately struck by the house’s energy. They went back to Canada, considered their options, and ultimately used their parents’ inheritance to buy the property.

August 2014 finds Echo moving into the house that has claimed so many spirits, not knowing what they will find there… and also taking a teaching position at Westfield High.

Chapter Two: First Meeting

Echo enters the house and immediately starts to have nightmares. The house has many interlocking desires, but one of the pressing ones is to have a baby, to create a baby, to have something small to hold and nurture. Tate has promised one of the other ghosts that he’ll get them a baby, and Echo looks like a perfect opportunity. Among the nightmares of fire and bathtubs and searching endless hallways, Echo has a dream that a man comes to their room in the night and forces himself on them.

That is, technically, Tate and Echo’s first meeting, although only one of them knows it.

Echo starts to explore the house and encounter the spirits that dwell within it. They start to get into little routines: reading children’s books to the unseen sisters who like to sit by the fireplace and whisper to each other, making tea for the woman who wanders through the kitchen every day in tears, and rolling a ball back and forth with the spirit in the attic, who never speaks.

One day, Echo is playing with the ghost in the attic and Tate introduces himself, joining the two of them. He tells Echo about Beau, his brother, the spirit chained in the attic. Tate is the first ghost that can actually talk to Echo properly, and they’re determined to get more information from him.

Chapter Three: Getting Together

Tate starts following Echo around after that, asking them questions and stealing their books. Echo likes him: he’s sardonic and sweet, clingy but goading in turn. He has information and tips about the spirits of children in the house, but stays closed-mouthed about most of the adults. The gaps in his information only make Echo more interested in his story, as do the inconsistencies in his behavior.

Tate has always known how to be sweet and lovely: he knows that he’s pretty, he knows that he can use it to his advantage. The difference is that he’s never wanted to before. His mother always wanted him to be the perfect son, charming and soft, so he made himself as sharp and abrasive as he could manage.

Now, he wants Echo for himself. He knows that the house wants them: he knows that every member of the house will want something from them. Tate is determined to stake his claim first, enough that Echo will choose him when the others come knocking.

So he plays the vulnerable, the bird with a wounded wing. He’s attentive, he plays with his sweater sleeves, he confesses his insecurities, he talks about his nightmares instead of his hallucinations. He tries not to flinch under the onslaught of affection he receives in return, but it’s still not enough, still not more than Echo gives to all the members of the house. So he crawls into their arms and presses them against the back of the couch and Echo takes him to bed.

And Tate thought he would be satisfied: he’s special, he’s chosen, but he’s lying. He’s playing a part and it’s starting to make him feel sick. The closer Echo gets to the other spirits, the closer Echo gets to finding out about the first night they were together, and Tate still can’t tell them how he died, or how he knew his mother abused his siblings and did nothing, or anything that isn’t part of the sweet boy he’s made himself into, to be easy to swallow, easy to hold.

Part Four: Where We’re At The Conclusion

It’s at work that things fall apart: in a conversation with another teacher, Tate is mentioned as the shooter that caused so much collective trauma at the school, and the pieces start clicking together. I hold onto the information for a while, resentful of needing to be the one to bring it up, trying to look at Tate from the right angle to make it all make sense. Trying to pretend that things can keep going as they’ve been.

Filled with my months of labor and love, the house is finally opening up. Knowing that it might mean abandoning Tate, I descend into the heart of the house and give myself to the deepest reaches of the house’s need. I no longer know if I can fix things, with Tate or with the house itself, but I no longer care about my own well-being, and I can hope that my sacrifice will help.

The house accepts me, and the First Abandoned Child, Thaddeus, is reborn through me: a bloody process that would have killed me if the spirits of the house hadn’t come together to save me. I come out of the process alive and with a baby in my arms, which is a bit of a shock since I was on birth control this whole time and have never intended to have a baby. But the house is suddenly alive again, and the spirits are given the chance to move on.

Not all of them choose to leave: Nora stays to be with her child properly, the twins want to stay to cause more mischief, and there are a couple of ghosts who just aren’t ready for whatever comes next, but a great majority move on.

And then there is Tate.

For a while, I think he might have left without saying goodbye: I don’t see him anywhere, and I grieve for him with the others, but I’m still hopeful. Eventually, he comes to me, and we can finally talk honestly. It’s a long discussion, but Tate decides to stay, at least for a while. And I love him, as he is. It will take a long time for him to believe it, but I’m willing to put in the work. I can remodel the house, I can keep the gardens, I can raise my child, and I can love Tate unconditionally.

In the years to come, Thaddeus will grow, and the remaining spirits will move on, but as long as they are in the house, I will love them, and when the time comes to let go, I will continue to love them, wherever they are.

#my ghost boy #this one has soooo many moving parts it's hard to summarize #there are like twenty ghosts in the house and i'm going to fix all of them #but tate is the one that real!echo cares about the most #so he's the Selfship (tm)#but the actual self-insert is kind of part of a huge house-wide web of issues #my selfships #selfship stories #my art

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daeyeol4you · 10 months

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The Chay Rewatch Ep. 4

As part of my KP Rewatch, I’m going to be commenting on each episode and analyzing the different Chay scenes. He’s my favorite character, and I thought I’d put down my thoughts (as well as timestamps for his scenes) as a fun way to express that.

Ep 1 & 2, Ep 3

This one is gonna be two-parter because Tumblr has character limits, please look at the reblog for part 2

Episode 4 - The Chay Drought ends, KimChay begins

Gang we are finally back to seeing Chay outside of the previously on segment

Y’all when I tell you I was so excited for this episode

I’m so intrigued by what Porsche says in the sauna. Nampueng why the hell did you say that to baby Porsche? It does develop her character beyond the silent attic wife trapped by Korn though. Clearly, growing up as an adopted child in the mafia world hardened her enough that she felt okay saying this to a child.

Also her saying this about Chay is very telling. Porsche is the heir, the one trapped by parental expectations in a world he doesn’t like (like Kinn???). He has the responsibility to bear whatever he has to in order for Chay to be free. Chay was always meant to be outside of the mafia narrative and escape in a way Nampueng knew her first born never could. Or maybe she wanted to raise a fighter and a strategist, who knows.

Time: 26:00 – 31:19 – Return of the Best Boi

Our longest Chay scene yet, this scene is so long and I kept pausing it to write down every thought in my head.

Chay, I thought we’d never see you again

Sidenote, what’s the name of the friend Chay is with? I think the fandom named him Ohm? Because I’ve seen that name used in fanfics

“We’ve got a kind graduate that will share his experience with us.” – I know this may be a translation thing, but isn’t Kim still a student at this university? We see him on campus later on in the series getting ragged on for not going to classes, so did the MC actually mean senior? Or maybe he graduated and then is doing his master’s at the same school?

Also, very glad we somewhat got an age on Kim since if he’s a graduate or a senior that puts him in the 21-24 age range, and since Chay is looking at schools to apply to, he’s probably 18/19 age range (yes I know Barcode was younger than that at the time of filming, but Jeff is definitely older than 21-24 so I’m not going to go by actor age). Not the worst age difference, but definitely one that exists.

Chay’s Outfit: Chay immediately stands out in the crowd with his baby blue school uniform and khaki pants. Almost every other student is wearing a very, very pale pink or blue shirt with dark shorts or skirts. The viewer is immediately capable of picking out Chay among the crowd and keeping an eye on him, a hard thing for costuming to achieve when the scene is meant to be a bunch of students all dressed nearly the same. Also, Chay’s school crest says BOC International and he doesn’t have his name sewn onto his shirt like the rest of the students (I’m assuming those are names, if I’m wrong please correct me)

“Who’s that?” “It’s Wik. How could you not know?” – Chay babes, please don’t attack your bestie like that.

Chay’s friend not knowing who Wik is when Chay literally has a whole obsessive fanboy thing going on, very interesting. I understand this is to tell the audience who Wik is, but it also says a lot about Chay’s relationship with his friends. Chay is really good at hiding things when he wants to, we see that throughout the series. The only person he doesn’t really hide anything from is Kim, and that’s honestly partially because Chay has the self-confidence of a god and Kim likes ferreting out secrets.

“I want to study here because of him.” – Oh Chay, you cute little delulu stalker. I know this gets ignored because there are so many other, bigger red flags in this story, but Chay deadass stalks Kim. And no joke, Kim falls for him because of it and later stalks him back. Soulmate behavior I guess. Chay’s red flag is a high school story red flag instead of a mafia storyline red flag so it gets buried. And Chay’s friend 100% sees that. Bro nods his head while internally going damn the delulu runs deep in this one.

Kim’s Wik Outfit: The brown leather jacket with the red lining and silver studs, the insane amount of silver jewelry, the white pants! This is such an outfit. The tendrils of hair artfully hanging in his face. Good shit. Did I stare at Jeff’s hands to see if he was wearing his family ring? Yes, and I won’t be taking questions about it.

“I’ve realized that you’re my good memory. The empty calendar is now full of your name.” “Your laughter that makes me feel like it’s Friday.” - Now I want to dissect this song because this song foreshadows the KimChay relationship so hard, and you don’t really pay much attention to it during your initial viewing because obviously the viewer first time round has no idea what kind of angst KimChay is headed for. Why Don’t You Stay gets all of the praise (obviously she’s the work horse of this drama) while this song gets crumbs. Kim singing this song in front of the person he’s going to fall in love with, who turns into the one good thing in his life, who’s ‘tutoring sessions’ (i.e. the two spy missions and medley of dates afterward) take over his calendar, and who’s laughter makes his heart warm (and 100% haunts him after he makes Chay cry)

I’m really interested in how big of a star Wik is. Chay’s friend doesn’t know him, but he’s obviously popular enough that his university (probably in exchange for some extra credit since Kim skips so much) has him as a headliner for their open house. He even draws a good-sized crowd who seem very knowledgeable about his work not just randoms who are touring the school like Chay’s friend.

I’m sorry bowl cut, drumstick boy has the best reactions throughout this scene. During Wik’s performance, dude is rocking out, and his exuberant thumbs up to what Wik says kills me. He may not be as wild as Chay, but bro is a big Wik fan so I support him. In comparison, Chay is very calm and quiet while watching his idol. He only shows his emotions when he can’t answer the questions and rants about Wik’s MVs.

Kim comes off so cold throughout this scene. The look on his face after he finishes his bit and the MC comes back on stage is dead inside. He is done. He does not want to be here. He wants to go write some songs and add pictures to his conspiracy board. I’m not saying that Kim dislikes performing and being Wik, no. I just think Kim likes the music more than he likes the performance. The public persona of Wik definitely helps him stay away from Korn’s machinations, but I think if Kim could have his music without the people aspect of being a musician he would in a heartbeat. But he puts up with it to stay away from his father.

Chay knowing all of the answers and correcting people. The looks he give the people who answer instead of him is as close to murderous as he gets in this series. If not for the laws of this land and the fact that Porsche doesn’t let him have a knife, he would have stabbed a bitch.

Anyways, there’s my obsessive fan boy! I am not joking when I say Kim fell for him because of his obsessive stalker tendencies. And his friend hyping him up, saying he’ll get the next question, and even trying to get the MC to pick Chay when literally less than an hour ago he had no idea who Wik was or the scale of Chay’s obsession. Need me a friend like that.

Speaking of, the absolute change in Kim’s expression when Chay goes on his little tangent. Bro deadass finally had some life in his eyes. He is shook and falling in love all at the same time. MC has to nudge Kim to get him out of his heart eyes moment.

I maintain that if Kim hadn’t gone all Kimlock Holmes about Porchay being Porsche’s brother he still would have obsessed over the cute boy who has the same obsessive red flag as him. KimChay are freaks who love a bit of stalking.

Bowl Cut’s “Even I didn’t know that. Who the hell are you?” – bro does Wik only have obsessive fans? Also yes, fear Chay’s power Bowl Cut Boy.

I am not gonna lie Barcode towering over people around him is so funny to me. He is baby, but that baby is six feet tall.

Chay is so happy when Kim offers to give him something else!!

#kinnporsche #kprewatch2023 #kimchay #kim theerapanyakul #porchay kittisawat #porchay #kinnporche the series

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