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#and those are my thoughts on the subject!!
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Imagine Angel Dust questioning you on your sex life with Alastor
“C’mon toots, you gotta give me something!”
“I absolutely do not,” you say stubbornly, turning away from the spider demon but he just scooted closer to you on the couch, practically looming over you.
“Pleeeaaase. I can’t figure the guy out. He’s all flamboyant and goofy one minute and then terrifying and menacing the next. How does that translate in bed? Is he a bottom? A switch? A top?” Angel leaned impossibly closer, his voice taking on a more conspiratorial tone. “Does he let you peg him?”
“Angel!” you exclaimed, leaning over the side of the couch to get away, “that is really none of your business! And he would rip your arms off if he heard you asking such things.”
Angel Dust huffed, frustrated, and folded both sets of arms across his chest, practically pouting.
“This is just unfair. I tell you so much about my work, I don’t hold anything back.”
“I wish you would,” you mumbled, recalling the last disturbingly detailed conversation you were forced to listen to. You still shuddered when you thought about your friend participating in “sounding” or “donkey shows.”
“Alright, well you gotta at least tell me this much,” he said, sitting back up and holding two hands up in front of him. “How big is the guy?”
You shook your head, trying to pull out your phone and ignore him.
“This big?” he asked, holding his hands out about 8 inches apart. “Or this big?” His hands got a couple inches farther apart. “Or, I know, he’s gotta be like THIS big, huh?” Angel’s hands were now over a foot apart from each other.
“Oh my God, don’t be gross Angel, that wouldn’t even fit inside of me.”
“Okaaaaaay,” Angel said with a smirk, “so not as big as some of the Hellhounds I gotta take up the ass.”
“Please stop,” you groan, burying your face in your hands.
“Not until you tell me something juicy about your boyfriend.”
“Ugggghh, seriously, fine,” you say, defeated, and Angel sat forward eagerly, “I mean you’ve obviously seen him shape shift into taller forms. So, let’s just say . . . he’s as big as he . . . or I . . . want him to be.”
“Hmmmm,” Angel said, raising an eyebrow. “That’s not a lot to go off of but I think I like your way of thinking. So, like this big then?”
You didn’t even look over to see how far apart Angel’s hands were now.
“What’s the record for how many times he’s made you cum in one night?”
“Angel, you said you would stop!” you yelled, feeling a blush begin to heat up your face.
“A lot huh? Because that, my friend, is the face of a woman who’s lost count,” he said with a knowing smirk.
“I am not dignifying that comment with a response.”
“I’m just sayin,’ I’ve seen you first thing in the mornings. You have the look of a gal who’s well satisfied.”
“Well, I am,” you say, “but that’s all decency will allow me to say. Alastor is a very private man and you should respect that.”
“Decency Schmeecency,” Angel said, throwing himself back into the couch cushions and picking up his own phone, looking bored with the conversation now. “This is Hell, there’s no such thing.”
Relieved he seemed to be dropping the subject, you pick up your own phone and enjoy a couple minutes of silence to scroll through your Sinstagram feed.
“Oh fuck me!” Angel exclaimed, startling you and making you drop your phone.
“What?!”
“That guy has got tentacles!”
There was no stopping the rush of blood to your face then . . . or the little smirk you just couldn’t seem to stop, though you did try and look away.
“Ooooooooh, oh doll face, you can’t hide that look from me,” Angel said, practically crawling over the couch to invade your space once again, “he has totally used those on you, hasn’t he?”
You turned to look at Angel, another retort about privacy ready on your tongue, but your eyes widen in horror as you see two shadowy tendrils raising up behind your friend’s back.
Angel registered the look on your face and sat back an inch.
“Wha-“
The tentacles grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him back to his side of the couch, and holding him down.
“I believe the lady said something about decency,” Alastor’s staticky voice said from somewhere behind the couch and then his shadow rose up from the ground before solidifying into the full glory of his demonic form. His body unnaturally long, antlers spread out wide, he towered over the spider demon he had pinned to the sofa.
“S-s-sorry man,” Angel said with a loud gulp, “I was just kidding around, you know,” he tried to chuckle nervously. “I-it was just girl talk.”
“Alastor,” you said, unbothered by your lover’s terrifying demonic appearance, “let him go. He’s harmless.”
“Hmmm,” Alastor said, tilting his head, eyes glowing brighter as he put on a show of considering the prey he had trapped in his tentacles. “Fine.”
Alastor dropped the tentacles from around Angel and within a blink of an eye, was back to his usual form, straightening his bow tie and brushing off the sleeves of his jacket.
“Ready for our lunch date?” you said, bouncing up off the couch and coming to stand by Alastor, who smiled down at you and looped an arm through yours.
“Sounds lovely, darling,” he replied, guiding the two of you around the back of the couch and towards the front of the lobby. “I’m positively starving.”
At the word “starving,” Alastor leaned over the couch, his glowing, toothy expression letting Angel know just how close he had come to being the cannibal’s lunch.
Angel sank deeper into the couch cushions in submission, eyes wide and fixed on Alastor, as the two of you headed for the front doors.
Alastor opened the door, but you paused after stepping through, grabbing the handle and shooting your friend a mischievous smile and wiggling your eyebrows in a suggestive manner at him. It was your own way of confirming his last line of questioning before Alastor had interrupted. You watched Angel’s jaw drop open and then closed the door, leaving him to his imagination.
Husk, who had been silently watching the entire thing from his place at the bar, began laughing.
“Yeah, he totally fucks her with those things,” he said, before taking a swig from his beer bottle. “Did you see the way she looked at them? She was almost jealous when he had you pinned to the sofa.”
“Jesus Christ,” Angel said, still panting a little. “Yeah, I don’t blame her. That was hot as fuck.”
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justlemmeadoreyou · 17 hours
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meet-cute
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okayyyy so here is something short n shitty on these new pics that my brain whipped up! tell me if you like this!
words: 1.3k~ish
warnings: flirting, fluff.
***
You loved coming out to this little nook to capture scenes of the city on canvas. Today felt especially inspiring with the beautiful spring weather.
You begin laying out your brushes and squeezing out vibrant shades of paint onto your palette. Losing yourself in the simple motions, you barely notice the passersby around you. That is, until a very familiar voice pipes up from behind.
"Excuse me, miss? Your paintings are absolutely lovely."
You freeze, brush hovering in the air. No, it couldn't be... Slowly, you turn around and your jaw drops. There, flashing his signature dimpled grin, stands Harry Styles himself. Your ultimate celebrity crush in the flesh, mere feet away.
"H-Harry? Harry Styles?" you stammer out, eyes wide.
He chuckles softly. "The one and only. I'm out on a morning stroll and I couldn't help but stop to admire your work. You've got a brilliant talent there."
Your cheeks flush bright pink. "Oh my gosh, thank you! You're—you're really here. I can't believe it!" 
Trying not to completely fangirl and scare him off, you take a deep breath to collect yourself. Harry Styles is complimenting your art. This is actually happening.
"Sorry, I'm just—wow, I'm such a huge fan of yours. Your music means so much to me."
He smiles warmly. "I'm glad you enjoy it, love. Say, would you maybe be interested in doing a little commission for me? Painting my portrait?"
You nearly drop your palette right then and there. "You want me to paint you? Like, really?"
"If you're up for it, yeah! I'd be honoured."
Nodding fervently, you scramble to set up a fresh canvas on your easel. "Yes, absolutely! I'd love to! Just...just tell me how you'd like to pose." 
As Harry arranges himself into a relaxed seated position, you take a moment to study his striking features. From the soft chestnut curls framing his face to those entrancing emerald eyes, he is perfect subject material. Your heart pounds rapidly in your chest.
"Okay, perfect, just like that. Stay right there and I'll get started!"
You take a steadying breath before putting brush to canvas, carefully mapping out Harry's form in broad strokes. The two of you fall into an easy back-and-forth conversation as you work, chatting about everything from his latest album to your shared hometown.
"I've gotta say, your Cheshire accent is pretty damn charming," Harry remarks at one point with a playful wink.
You giggle shyly. "Why thank you, kind sir. Yours isn't too bad either."
Harry throws back his head with a deep, raspy chuckle that has your toes curling in your shoes. "Is that so, darling? Well in that case..." He leans in close enough for you to smell his intoxicating cologne, voice lowering to a sultry murmur. "Perhaps later you'll allow me to read you a bedtime story?"
"Harry!" you gasp in flustered exasperation, half-heartedly swatting his arm as he cackles victoriously. The two of you are so caught up in your playful banter that you barely notice the small crowd starting to gather, whispering and snapping photos as word spreads that the one and only Harry Styles is getting his portrait done.
Harry waves jovially at his fans but remains focused on you, keeping up the easy banter.
"How's it looking over there, Picasso? Doing me justice?"
Glancing up, you smirk. "Well, it's hard to improve upon perfection, but I'm giving it my best shot."
He smiles, and swears he felt his heart skip a beat at your words. "Such flattery! And here I thought you were just a pretty face with those big doe eyes."
You roll said eyes dramatically as your cheeks flush. "Oh, stop trying to put me off, you flirt!"
Over the next little while, you alternate between studying Harry's striking features with lazer-like intensity and flushing furiously whenever he catches you staring. At one point, he pointedly clears his throat.
"You know, most artists usually start on the face when doing portraits," he remarks with a teasing lilt.
Cheeks flaming again, you force your gaze away from the rippling muscles of his forearms where you'd been fixated like a teenager. "Hush you, I'm simply taking my time with the background work first."
"If you say so," he chuckles but obediently returns to stillness, allowing you to slowly build up brushstrokes on the canvas.
Time seems to fly by as your brush strokes bring Harry's image vibrantly to life on the canvas. The swarm of onlookers grows steadily bigger, phones clicking away to document the scene. Several times you have to politely ask people not to get too close and obstruct your view.
With one last few delicate strokes to bring out the shine in Harry's eyes, you finally lean back with a satisfied smile.
"Well, Mr. Styles...what do you think?"
Harry rises from his pose and steps over to admire your handiwork, lips parting in an impressed grin.
"Wow...Y/N, this is incredible! You captured me perfectly!"
You beam proudly, butterflies erupting in your stomach at his praise. "I had some pretty gorgeous subject matter to work with."
Chuckling, Harry carefully plucks the canvas from the easel. "You've definitely earned your payment and then some. Name your price, love."
After some back-and-forth haggling that has the crowd laughing, Harry hands over a generous sum of cash and pulls you in for a warm hug.
"Truly, thank you for this. I'll cherish it forever!"
You bite your lip shyly as he pulls away. "You're more than welcome. Can't say I mind immortalizing that handsome face on canvas."
Harry tosses you one last wink before turning to greet his clamoring fans, the sea of people quickly engulfing him and carrying him off down the street.
As he's shuffled away, Harry feels a pang of disappointment that he didn't get a chance to ask for your number or make plans to see you again. He spent the whole time shamelessly flirting and getting flustered by your adorable blushes and quips. Now he may never get the opportunity to take you out on an actual date.
Once he's finally escorted into his awaiting car, Harry lets out a frustrated huff and runs a hand through his tousled hair. He'd been so wrapped up in your captivating presence that he didn't even think to get your contact information before being mobbed. Rookie mistake.
"Stupid, stupid," he mutters under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. 
Just as he's resigning himself to having let a potential connection slip through his fingers, something catches Harry's eye. He glances down at the canvas you had been painting him on, safely tucked onto the seat beside him, and a slow smile spreads across his face.
There, just peeking out from the backside wrapped around the frame, is a scribbled set of numbers. Hurriedly, Harry flips over the painting to inspect further. He lets out a delighted laugh at what he finds.
It's a phone number! Trailing below it in your handwriting are the words "In case you need your portrait updated ;) -Y/N"
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
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st4rymoon · 3 days
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your dating Steven and accidentally leave out an aphrodisiac, he takes it and Marc and Jake are surprised, Steven begs for you to fuck him and out of pure pleasure he starts rapidly switching between personalities
This made me kick my feet up and giggle….
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𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧
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𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘬𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘴 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
Preview: a harmless gift from your friends was meant for you to surprise Steven with but you forget to let him know not to eat them. It’s cruel that the aphrodisiac was in his favorite form of dessert.
Warnings: unknowingly ingesting an aphrodisiac (drug), p in v, fingering!, needy moon boys, unprotected sex, cream pie, roughish sex, pet names, alter switching, moments of anxiety
Not proof read !
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You truly didn’t understand why your friends thought it was funny to give you chocolates with a little something in them. They said to eat them whenever you wanted to surprise your boys. Your best friend said it had her and her boyfriend going at it for hours and you weren’t really sure how you’d even bring up the subject to them.
While steven worked a late shift you decide to take a quick shower, ridding yourself of the days stress and leaving the box of chocolates on the kitchen counter completely unaware of your mistake.
Steven walked into the flat with his usual enthusiasm whenever you came over but arrived to an empty living room and the shower running. He smiled to himself before he placed his things down and made his way to the kitchen.
He was famished.
“Chocolates!” Steven gasped as he lunged toward the dangerously veneral food that would soon leave not only him, but Marc and Jake begging for your attention.
You were still in the shower whole Steven downed the sweet box of chocolates, only leaving 3. He gulped at the burning feeling growing on his cheeks. His clothes began to feel oddly warm, his body beginning to shoot tingles all throughout.
“Bloody hell” Steven shivered as he felt a familiar feeling slowly creeping. “Oh god” Steven whined as he removed his jacket in a hurry.
Why was he wearing so many damn layers. Why was he wearing socks? Why was he wearing a shirt? The urge to remove the now over heated clothes began to wash over Steven.
“Steven sit down” Marc spoke with a worried tone in his voice. Not only could Steven feel the effects, but so could Marc and Jake. Both were equally as worried being chocolates full of an aphrodisiac were the last things they were thinking of.
You stepped out into the living room, towel in hand as you noticed Steven on the couch. A smile began to form on your lips as you saw him begin to lie down.
Your eyes widened as you noticed the mess on the counter “oh no, oh no Steven please tell me you didn’t eat all those chocolates?” You gasped as you rushed to his side.
“I did darling I did I’m sorry” he began to whine “shit Steven! My friends gave me th-“ before you could even finish your sentence Marc began to front “What the hell are in those things” he panted.
Beads of sweat began to form on his forehead as he squirmed on the couch “some herb that makes you horny” you chuckled “they said milk would help, let me get you some milk ok” you hurriedly ran to the fridge.
“That explains it, I usually feel like this when I see you in those pretty knee highs” you heard Jake speak “I’m sorry I’m so sorry it didn’t crossed my mind to put these way” you anxiously muttered as you brought over a glass of milk to Jake “is Steven ok?” You asked.
“Of course I am love” Steven fronted as his flushed complexion began to grow a bright shade of pink “Steven drink the milk please” you sighed “we don’t want to I mean you left the chocolates out” Marc huffed as he began to take off his shirt.
You’ve never seen all three of them front so quickly, you were worried to say the least “how about you go lay on the bed and I’ll call my friends to ask how we can fix my mistake ok?” You smiled.
“Whyyy” Marc cooed as he pulled you into his arms “look at you freshly out of the shower and smelling of lavender, technically wrapped up in a pretty bow for me to have my fun with” he hummed as he sat you on his lap.
“Marc you have some kind of drug in your system do we really think it’s a good time to have sex?” You sigh as he begins to rock onto your clothed mound. “It’s just supposed to make me horny right? Well I always am and right now it’s just getting amplified” he cooed in hopes that you’d give in and let him release the herb himself. Marc’s hand wrapped behind your neck and pulled you into a kiss with his other hand snaking up your thighs.
“See it feels good” Marc hummed as he sloppily kissed you. It was impossible to lie how sexy Marc was right now, how rough and needy he was getting. “Mami Mírame porfavor” Jake purred as your eyes closed shut.
You gasped as Jake’s hands lifted you off the couch and walked you over to the unmade bed you and Steven didn’t bother making. The primal moan that spilled out of Jake had you moaning in unison “so is that a yes muñeca? Usa tus palabras, dime” he purred.
“Yes yes please” you whined as Jake’s fingers curled into the hem of your panties and pulled them down in one swift motion. You cried in pleasure as you felt Jake’s calloused fingers push into your gushy cunt.
A low groan rumbled through his chest as he felt you drench his fingers in warm slick, the stringy sticky cum creating a lewd loud with each of his movements.
You clawed at his biceps as Jake’s eyes watched you with a wide grin, his eyes growing dark as your moans grew louder. “J- Jake please” you gasped as he pulled his fingers back and into his mouth.
Your legs squeezed together as Jake rid himself of the rest of his clothes. Leaving you only in a tank top and him completely naked “what a nice gift from your friend, next time you should take one” he purred as his hands hoist your hips up and added a pillow under you.
“Get comfy love” Steven spoke as he pushed Jake back “I’m the one who ate the bloody chocolates so I can indulge first” he coyly smiled.
Steven’s hands were shaking as he stroked himself, aligning himself between your legs before he fucked the drug out on you.
You’ve never had sex this intense with Steven, his hands were on the shelves of his books as he fucked you onto the sheets. You stared up at him dumbly as he panted and gasped with each thrust.
Steven let out whimpered frustrated moans as he pressed himself as close as he could, no matter how deep he got he felt like it wasn’t enough.
The way his books shook and fell flat on the shelves as he thrusted made him smile, he felt like he could go on for hours. “Stev- ohhh godd Steven Steven!” You sobbed as he rolled his hips messily and slow.
You were met with a raspy moan and a heavy hand on your throat “my turn” Marc spoke as the once slow pace picked up once again.
The room was dimly lit by the shining of the moon through the curtains as Marc pounded deep into your throbbing cunt. You clawed at his arms as he hungrily kissed you, both of you swallowing each others moans as he fucked you through your orgasm.
Your face was a complete mess, mascara and hair all over the face as he chuckled at your cries. You began to notice Marc’s thrusts growing messy, he turned into a moaning mess as he filled you to the brim.
“Jus’ like that yeahhh fu- fuck” he seethed. His cock still rock hard as he settled inside you.
“You going to be good and let Jake and Steven have their way?” Marc pouts as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.
You dumbly nodded with a breathy “yes”
It was going to be a long night but there was definitely no complaints from any of you.
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chunghasweetie · 1 day
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𝐂𝐀𝐍’𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐎 | J.JK
— pairing | dom!oc x nerdy sub!jjk
— summary | loser nerd jk has crushed on her for years and is assigned to be her college tutor for her calculus class. studying doesn’t go exactly as planned and he ends up losing his virginity in the best way possible.
— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)
virginity loss, cussing, corruption kink, female dom, light dirty talk, belittling, dick sucking, unprotected sex, etc
— word count | 3.5k words
— song suggestion | rush — william singe
His nerves were tingling with anxiety. He had imagined a day like this since he laid eyes on her.
His crush first stemmed from middle school. Then it followed him through high school, and now his college career.
Y/n had always been the typical token super pretty and popular girl. She was funny too, he couldn’t help but giggle to himself when she was making jokes with her friends across the room.
Jungkook was beyond nervous. He’s had a crush on her forever, and now he was standing in front of her home for their very first tutoring session.
Jungkook had arrived at Y/n’s home, exhaling to himself. “I can do this.” He mumbled before knocking on her door.
The door opened and there she was. A short denim mini skirt and a matching top.
He was already done for.
��Oh hey Jungkook.” She smiled, “You’re here already. I didn’t think you’d be early. Come in.”
He feels his heart skip a beat as Y/n opens the door, a genuine smile spreading across his face.
“H-hi! Yes, it's me” He clears his throat. “Thank you for inviting me inside.” He steps inside, taking in the sight of her apartment.
“Of course.” She led him to the dining room table her hips swaying in her mini skirt that showed off her figure beautifully.
His eyes widen and follow her every move, watching as she leads him to the dining room table.
He can't help but feel a rush of excitement as he takes in the sight of her hips swaying in her skirt.
He had never imagined they’d be in such a small space. Alone with her. His heart could almost explode with excitement.
Her home didn’t look much like the google maps photos like he seen online.
“Is right here okay?” She asked him, her table with the notebooks and studying material she needed already set up.
He swallows hard and nods, feeling his cheeks heat up. “I-It’s fine.”
The two sat at her table studying, Jungkook using more complex language than she was used to.
She could grasp some of it, but Y/n wasn’t necessarily the strongest in the subject.
“I’ve always sucked at math. Let alone calculus.” She laughed. “It must be nice to know everything.”
He chuckles nervously, shaking his head. “No, not everything. Just... some things. Math is definitely my strong suit.” He takes a deep breath, gathering his composure before turning his attention to her math homework “Okay, let's continue.”
She simply nodded. She leaned closer to him, reading the book that was further in his direction.
Her breasts were huge. He wondered how her posture managed to stay so straight with those jugs weighing her down.
Her right breast was pressed against his shoulder, driving him crazy.
He tries to focus on the homework, but finds himself distracted by her low cut top and her large breasts on view.
He can't help but glance, feeling his face flush with embarrassment as he realizes she might notice. “Uh, so... uh...”
“Are you okay?” Y/n asked him.
“Yes.” He cleared his throat.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, yes I'm fine. It's just... uh... hot in here.” He tries to refocus on her homework assignment, but his mind keeps drifting to her body and how close she's standing next to him.
“I’ll go turn the ac on” She got up, hips swaying as she went to turn on the AC. She eventually came back. “Better?” She sat back down.
‘Someone kill me.’ Jungkook thought to himself.
He tries to focus on the books and studying material, but his gaze keeps drifting back to her exposed thighs and the way her skirt rides up
He nods, grateful for the cooler air. He watches as she sits back down next to him, hips swaying in a way that makes his heart race.
“This is so hard” She groaned. “Calculus is so difficult.”
He nods in agreement, trying to stifle a smile at her cute groan. “Yeah, uh... It can be tough sometimes.”
He starts going over the problem with her, letting his hand rest on hers gently as he points out what she did wrong.
“I think it’s the table.” She tells him. “I focus more on my bed, it’s where I’m most comfortable. Jungkook, would you be okay studying there with me?” Y/n suggested.
His heart races at the thought of having her in a more private setting, but he knows he shouldn't let his crush get the best of him.
He nods and starts gathering the homework assignments and books. “Yeah— sure, let's move to the couch.”
She smirked to herself on the way to her bedroom. Her plan was working perfectly, and working quicker than she expected.
His eyes widened at her room. He was finally inside. He always seen a few corners when he was stalking her Instagram late at night, but now being there in person sent him over the edge.
It was so her. The decorations, the layout, the scent. It was perfectly her.
“Much better” She sat down on her bed, starting to write in her notes with him.
He watches as she writes, trying not to get too distracted by the way her hair falls over her shoulders and the way she bites her lip in concentration.
He clears his throat and starts going over the problems again, trying to focus on the homework instead of his crush.
About an hour had passed of them studying, and she was beyond bored. Y/n was over hearing about stupid questions she had no interest in finding the solution for.
“Like I said, when you plug in the formula—“
“Don’t you have a girlfriend waiting on you?” Sasha interrupted him. “You’ve been here for a while.”
“I-I don’t have one.” He swallowed. “And I told the professor I’d spend as much time as needed for you to pass.”
He was still talking about school, making her boredom increase. “Do you do anything outside of school?” She changed the topic.
He blinks at her, surprised by the sudden question. He fidgets with his glasses and stammers a bit before answering. “I...I go to the internet cafe with my friends and do coding and stuff.. I help code games and such. It's...it's not very exciting, but it keeps me busy.”
“Cute.” She chuckled. “So you’re like a full time nerd?”
He blushes at her teasing and nods, looking down at his hands. “Y-yes, I suppose you could say that. I do enjoy learning and electronics...and working on computers gives me a chance to use my skills to help others. It's...it's important to me.“
“Is that why you’re single?” She asked him. “Too busy studying and programming?”
He nodded.
Wasn’t necessarily the entire truth. Some of the other girls at the cafe definitely took an interest but he was all about you.
He was a quiet guy but he always spoke up about you. All of his friends at the internet cafe knew about his crush on you. He would be teased daily because well, look at him and you.
He didn’t care. He knew from the start it wasn’t realistic considering the crowds you stuck around with.
Jungkook would rather be at home with his computer while you’d be parting with sororities and frat boys.
“You’re a busy guy hm? Well when was the last time you’ve had a girlfriend?” Y/n asked him, moving the text books as she inched closer.
“I-I— Well.” He swallowed, “I’ve never had one before..” He itched the back of his neck.
Her eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”
“It just— never happened.” He told her.
“That’s just so hard to believe.” She analyzed him with her feline like eyes.. “I think you’re really handsome and cute.”
“Really?” His voice came out a lot louder than he meant to, clearing his throat. “Y-You do?”
She nodded, “I always have.” She suddenly climbed on his lap, making Jungkook let out a slight gasp in surprise.
He looks up at her in surprise, his heart beating faster at her words. He stammers out a thank you, feeling his face heat up again. “I...I'm...I'm glad you think so...”
“It’s okay if I sit here right?” She asked, making him nod rather quickly.
“Good.” She giggled. “So you’ve never had a girlfriend… you at least have lost your virginity right?”
Jungkook looked away shyly. “N-No..”
She had always had the reputation of being the popular pretty girl. Her entire friend group and social circle was like that. So naturally it was expected for her to end up with a frat guy.
Y/n had been with a few, and was absolutely bored out of her mind. They were cocky and disgusting, seeming to like their bros more than actual women.
She had no interest in anyone like that.
She always had a thing for nerdy and loser men who looked like they had never had a chance with losing their virginity.
Her friends were always teasing her about her type. No one could understand how she could really be attracted to a guy like that.
Y/n noticed Jungkook towards her sophomore year of high school. He had always been attractive to her but she really took a notice to him at that time.
He was tall, handsome, and quiet. Super shy. The only time she had seen him really talk was during a history presentation when he had to read off some slides.
Her horny teenage brain definitely took notice towards the bulge in his pants whenever she looked his way.
Y/n was always with her friend group and Jungkook was always in way better and smarter classes than her. He never had any social media either, so she never had the chance to really make a move on him.
It was now their junior year in college and once she heard he was assigned to be her tutor, she had to do something.
Jungkook had hardly ever kissed a girl. A girl pecked his lips in his junior year of high school and he absolutely hated it.
Hated it because it wasn’t her.
She shifts on his lap. “That’s so cute. Are you waiting for someone to take it?”
He nodded quickly. He was hard as a rock. Her skirt was practically all the way lifted as she sat on his lap, driving him insane.
“Mm I’d be honored to volunteer.” She suggested.
“T-Take it— P-please.” He was practically whimpering out to her.
She didn’t waste her time, leaning forward to kiss his lips. She wasn’t too rough on him, but she definitely was working her lips on his.
“Gonna make you feel real good.” She smacked her lips against his, grabbing his hands, placing them over her ass cheeks. “Grab it okay?”
Jungkook bent his fingers, now holding her ass in his hands.
She traveled her lips down to the crook of his neck, creating a trail of dark hickeys.
Y/n was grinding on his lap with her skirt on as she marked up his neck. “No hickeys before either?”
There was no way this was really happening. Jungkook could go into shock. This was even better than he had ever imagined.
His breathing becomes heavier and heavier as she grinds on his lap, feeling the friction between their bodies.
He moans as she marks up his neck, his mind clouded with pleasure. He whimpers as she asks about hickeys, shaking his head slightly. “N-no...”
“You’re so much more vocal than I imagined. and I’m just kissing you.” She giggled.
He blushes profusely as she speaks about his vocalness, feeling embarrassed at how turned on he is by her touch.
He looks up at her as she pulls away from his neck, seeing the marks she left on his skin.
“So cute..” She pulled away from his neck. “All marked up, it looks intense.” She grabbed her handheld mirror, showing him what she did to him.
He gulps, reaching up to touch them gently. seeing the marks she left on his skin. He gulps, reaching up to touch them gently.
“You’re comfy right baby?” She asked him, making sure he was at ease while she tainted him.
“I-I’m fine.” He shakes his head, leaning into her touch as she runs her fingers through his hair. “N-no... it just... makes me want more... of you...” He confesses, feeling vulnerable and honest in front of her.
“You’re more than ready to lose your virginity huh baby?” She baby talked him. “Poor baby wants to be touched so bad.”
He blushes deeply at her words, nodding slowly. He's been a virgin for so long and he wants nothing more than to experience it with her.
“Y-yes...” He stammers, his voice barely above a whisper. I want to... be with you...”
“I’m almost there sweetheart. You’re doing so good being patient for me.” She comforted, seeing how whiny and desperate he was. It didn’t help that he was incredibly hard under her.
Her praises were driving him insane and she hadn’t even took his pants off yet. “Wha— What now?” He asks softly, hoping he doesn't sound too desperate.
She was practically drooling over the sight of him. His dick had been teasing her for centuries through his jeans, and she finally had it at her disposal.
He lets out a involuntary gasp as she unzips his pants and pulls out his dick. He blushes as she compliments him on his size. He never thought anyone would say that about him. “I-it's not that big...”
“You’re so humble.” She smirked. “I don’t even think I’ll be able to fit it inside me or my mouth.” She chuckled. “Let me know if it’s too much. Mm gonna sit on it first okay? Don’t have a condom so you’re going to have to pull out when you feel it okay?”
He nodded eagerly. “I-I’ll try my best.”
“That’s all I can ask of you.” She latched her lips onto his lips once more before sliding herself onto him, making their lips disconnect from their moans.
He was a mess from the start. Her pussy was so tight and wet, driving him insane.
He had always imagined what it would feel like but this was even better.
“O-Oh wow.” He whined, “F-Feels so t-tight”
Y/n bounced on him slowly, allowing him to feel all of her.
“It’s good huh baby?” Sasha cooed. “You’re so big baby”
“Mmph— it’s so wet—“ He whimpered.
He lets out a gasp, his hands instinctively reaching out to grab onto her hips for support. "F-fuck!"
She was moving her hips in a rhythmic motion that sent waves of pleasure coursing through his entire body. He moans softly, biting his lip to keep from making too much noise.
Y/n took a notice of his actions. “Don’t want you being quiet. I’ve waited so long to have you like this.” She stopped moving on top of him.
Jungkook's eyes snap open as Y/n stops moving, his cock throbbing with need and frustration at the sudden lack of stimulation.
He looks up at her with a desperate expression, pleading for her to continue with his actions. "P-please..."
She grabbed his neck subtly, not enough to really hurt him. She turned his chin to the side, “Covered you in so many hickeys, all for you to be quiet now?”
Jungkook's heart races as Sasha grabs his neck, a small whimper escaping his lips at the touch. He looks at her with a mixture of surprise and arousal, his mind racing at the sudden change in her demeanor. "I-I'm sorry...”
“What’re you going to do differently if I keep moving?” She growled into his ear. “Tell me. Use that pretty mouth.”
Jungkook's breath hitches as Y/n growls in his ear, his heart pounding in his chest. He swallows hard, trying to find the words to answer her question. "I-I'll... I'll make more noise...”
“Good boy…” She began moving again, “Mm— feels so good” Y/n moaned into his ear.
Jungkook's eyes roll back in pleasure as Sasha begins moving again, her moans in his ear sending chills down his spine.
He grips the sheets beneath him tightly, his body trembling with need as she bouncing on him. "F-fuck...I— never imagined p-pussy would be this good”
His desperate pleas sent her over the edge. She loved how he was so whiny and desperate all for her.
“Never baby?” She hummed, her voice sensually whispering against his ear.
Jungkook lets out a low groan as Y/n’s words register in his head, his mind filled with filthy thoughts. He nods his head, unable to find the words to speak. "N-no... I never thought... f-fuck..."
He was absolutely pussydrunk, the feeling of his cock being sunk into her pussy made him go insane.
If he was already obsessed with her before, he knew he was absolutely fucked now. “I-I m-might… mmgh…”
She knew how lost he was in her pussy, knowing he was close to cumming at any second.
She quickly got up off his cock, making him whimper at the sudden separation.
“Can’t have you cum inside baby.” She hushed him, knowing he was about to complain.
“I-I want to cum so bad— Please let me” He whined.
“You’re gonna cum baby. I wouldn’t do that to you.” She made her way off his lap.
She got in between his legs and on her knees. “Gonna suck you off pretty boy.”
She had no problem sucking him off after he was just inside of her. She opened her mouth, licking his tip to test the waters.
He can't help but moan as she licks his tip. He doesn't know what came over him, he bites his lip as she starts bobbing her head up and down on him.
He lets out a deep moan as she takes him all in. He's never felt anything like this before. He tries to hold back, but he can feel himself already getting close. He whined, warning her that he's about to cum.
She let him cum all in her mouth, not dare wasting a single drop as she swallowed.
He couldn’t believe what just happened. He's cumming in her mouth and she's swallowing every drop. He's never felt so satisfied in his life. He pulls out and pants. “Thank you... that was amazing.”
He was so infatuated with her. He had been beating his dick for years, whining and whimpering in his bedroom at merely the idea of his dick being sucked by her.
He blushes and stutters, trying to find the words. He can't believe what just happened.
“Y-you.. it was... amazing. I don't know what to say. Thank you.” He turns to face her, his eyes filled with gratitude as he repeated his thanks.
The two hung out for a bit longer, actually getting her tutoring done. She giggled. “i’ll see you at school tomorrow.” She waved as they bid their goodbyes.
He smiles and nods, still in shock about what happened. “Y-yeah, see you then.” He watches her shut the door, his heart racing with excitement. He can't believe she just sucked his dick, took his virginity, and then he was back to tutoring her.
His dreams finally came true.
༊—
The next day she was walking with her friends, and seemed to pass Jungkook’s friends group. She could hear Jungkook’s friends teasing him.
“Bro you have a hickey?!” They stared at his neck in amazement, adjusting their glasses to look closely.
Like stated, they were nobodies. All of them. Never had any interactions with women in their lives.
Jungkook covers his neck with his hand, trying to hide the hickey. He didn't realize it was so obvious, but he's glad he got it. He can't stop thinking about last night and her. “Sh-shut up gu-guys!”
His face turns bright red, shushing them and trying to avoid any more attention. “F-Fuck this is embarrassing.” He can't help but think about her again and the amazing time they had last night. He's already looking forward to seeing her again and continuing their tutoring sessions.
Y/n’s friends looked over at the boys. “What do you think that’s all about?” They asked amongst themselves.
“Why does it matter? Probably just some boring video game release. Or maybe a new textbook was added to the library!” One of the girls laughed.
Y/n couldn’t help but chuckle to herself, knowing damn well there would be more where that came from.
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crazy-pages · 2 days
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First step to being a rationalist.
Acknowledge it might not work.
Let me take a step back for a moment. The single most important principle of science, in my opinion, is acknowledging the possibility of failure, that something might be beyond you. People often think of science as how you discover the truth, but I think it is more accurately and importantly described by how it lets us determine what we do not know.
For most of human history, we not only did not know what the sun was made out of, the question was fundamentally beyond our grasp. There was nothing any amount of scientific principle could do that would let you know what the sun was for most of human history. To be a scientist about it, to apply the scientific method to understanding the sun, is not just being able to know nuclear physics. You have to teach yourself to know when to say 'I don't know'.
For most of human history the sun has been fundamentally beyond our capacity to understand. And yet it is one of the most enduring and common subjects of false explanations. To internalize the scientific method, truly in a way that changes your thinking relative to what it was before you learned it, you have to become someone who, if you were living in those times, would be able to say "I don't know" even when everyone around you has an answer.
So let's talk about rationalism.
Rationalism is not just the idea that we can understand human biases. It's not just the idea that we can be more thoughtful or knowledgeable people by understanding these biases. No, rationalism is specifically the idea that by learning enough about human biases and by leaning on hard enough on data, we can reliably make correct and optimal moral choices. It is the belief that by performing enough rationalist study and training, and applying enough information science to a problem, one can proceed on the assumption they have come to the correct conclusion.
And those are very different things. It is the difference between saying "by understanding wood better, we can construct better foot bridges" and "by understanding wood better, we can span the San Francisco Bay with it".
Because here's the thing, better is not the same thing as reliable. Even if we grant the assumption that learning about biases makes one less likely to fall prey to them, and that is an assumption, an 80% chance of making mistake is also less than a 90% chance of making a mistake. It's valuable, that's a good thing, but it is not sufficient to say "hey so I used this method to come to my conclusions, therefore I'm sure I didn't make a mistake".
If you want to be a rationalist, the first rational principle you need to apply is that of the scientific principle looking at the sun. You need to be able to say "There may be nothing I can do, with the resources I have access to, to be sure I am actually free of bias and mistakes in logic. This may be fully beyond me, for the entire span of my life." And not just in the sense that nobody is perfect, but in the very real sense that you cannot depend on the train of logic in your own head to lead you to a correct place.
And the reason this is important is for the same reason it's important in science. The moment that you presume something is in fact knowable in science, it just becomes a tool of accrediting whatever conclusion you come to. It stops being an actual tool of discovery and becomes a rubber stamp of validation. It becomes something which makes you feel better about the conclusion you came to, not something which actually helps you in any way.
The moment you say to yourself, "because I am a rationalist, I am confident enough in A, B, and C to take actions X, Y, and Z" you've failed to be a rationalist. (Unless you provide a double blind study of a large well-controlled population, one of which was given rationalist training and the other which wasn't, upon the end of which it was determined that the rationalist trained population did indeed perform to an improved standard meeting a high minimum on certain metrics (upon which you must limit your assumption of rationalist improvement to those specific metrics). And then this study has been in the corpus of literature long enough to be peer-reviewed and criticized and had duplicate research and further investigation and a good long while for the scientific community to dissect it. A thing which has definitely not happened yet.)
The most important thing you can learn from rationalism is not an understanding of a specific set of biases. It's not the particular ways human cognition is messed up and it's not any type of information science. It is the fact that humans are flawed.
The most important thing you can learn from rationalism is humility, not hubris.
To do otherwise is for rationalism to just become another tool of confirmation bias, something making you think you are more correct than you actually are.
The humility you have to learn from rationalism is that you must plan and behave on the assumption that no matter how rationalist you think you are, you might still be behaving in biased ways. That there might be no way to fix this. And so all you can do try to behave in ways where even if you're wrong, you're going to minimize the harm you do to others.
This is where futurist philosophies derived from rationalism, the idea that the unimaginable number of humans in the future are so much more than the ones now that it justifies worker exploitation and present harms to make the far future better, falls apart. This is where AI doomerism/utopianism, the idea that general AI is definitely the biggest threat and potential boon facing humanity so we have to put all of our resources into safe AI research at the expense of everything else, falls apart. This is where effective altruism, the idea that we can quantify the outcomes of charity thoroughly enough that it makes sense to hand over direction of all charity to a small group of experts, falls apart.
Because the answer to "what if you're wrong about these philosophies?" is that a lot of people get very hurt. We are flawed. Fundamentally so, and I don't know that anyone has ever proved a way we can get around this. The only thing I know that we can do about this, is to try to behave in ways that minimize harms while trying to make the world better, rather than trying to maximize a hail mary to find the holy grail.
To which I can already hear the rationalists saying that this might not be enough to save the world, that anything but convulsive directed effort focused on is already doomed, so we have to pick one of them.
To which I say. First off, how are you sure of that? How is this a thing that you know for certain?
But more importantly. Yeah. You're right. There's no way of knowing for sure what course of action will make the world a better place. There's no way of knowing that anything short of futurists sacrificing the workers of the present to build a brighter future will be enough.
But if you are actually a rationalist, well. That is what you have to live with. You've got to be the scientist looking up at the sun and saying, "I don't know."
And then you should go and do things to make the world better without being sure of your prognostication of the future.
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Idk if you still write for Danganronpa, but i have a idea
What about Yandere remnants of despair with a darling that they thought that died, like after they got brainwashed darling went missing, but after some time they discover that they actually are alive and now works for the future foundation!
Bonus: They are now dating another member of the future foundation and darling is/acts like Tsumugi Shirogane(without the despair and mastermind thing, so darling is just a silly little person who cosplays and is the ultimate former cosplayer! You can ignore this part!)
Thanks for reading! Really, thank you so much! <333
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Found Again | Yandere Danganronpa
Since your class had turned to the remnants of despair the best thing you could do was pretend. Playing the part of a fellow brain-washed remnant before you could slip away to instead aid the future foundation. Now move on with your life it’s a shame that you seemed to be a poignant point in their fall to despair and now that they know you’re alive things are going to change:
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Sonia Nevermind
“What's this…how could you….how dare you take my sunshine?!”
Released from the brainwashing of the Ultimate Despair and returned to normal
During the rescue of those in future foundation finding you walking around and directing others
It’s horrifying because you are hers
So why do you have a ring on your finger
A small stupid ring that isn’t half the size of what she would have given you
She might take advantage of the chaos to convince you to come with her
Surely you wouldn’t mind helping her acclimate to a proper and hopeful life
Whoever gave you this useless ring shouldn’t need you
“Come on (Y/n)I Don’t you remember?! You are my sunshine! I need you to be good!”
Should she find out while still in the throes of despair, it’s a little bit of the same
“So my loyal subjects your king has been abducted and brainwashed by those unhopeful rats! Come my subjects! On my order burn down the future foundation and retrieve my King!”
“Yeah!!!”
As a princess turned Queen having the whole kingdom behind her in her rule of despair is incredibly helpful
Immediately informing the moles that lure you from your partner and subdue you
Bringing you to her kingdom in Novoselic
“There my King is in their rightful place….NOW~SHALL WE PRACTICE THE PUNISHMENT OF YOUR ABDUCTERS!?”
“What?!”
She’s still a remnant of despair 
Remnant of despair who delighted and yearned when she found evidence of your death
A remnant of despair who continues to swoon at the way your face morphs into fear
“There~ that is a face I will torture for to fill this Queen with despair.” 
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Nagito Komaeda
“Ah~To think my one true hope would be alive!”
He’s so so so happy you are even alive
He remembers the despair he was thrilling himself with and your supposed death definitely added to that
So him being able to experience this blossom of hope when in the process of saying so
He’s ecstatic 
Actually he abandons helping the future foundation to devise a plan—based on his luck—to get you on the ship with the rest of his class
He knows with his luck he’ll be able to pull it off
Though he’s certain there will be a death somewhere
But as long as it's not you, he doesn’t care 
Your back~and you’ll be his again
As a remnant of despair through his eagerness to have you knows no bounds
He almost doesn’t believe it
He doesn’t believe it
“I’ll believe it when I feel the despair of finding their body.”
It’s too hard to fool him
Likely you never did 
Him being constantly on the hunt to see your despair as he breaks your legs and does whatever he can to keep you in the pits of despair
And right by his side
He so dearly made his dear Junko a part of him is it insane he’d want to do the same
“My Despair! I’ve found you!” 
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Gundham Tanaka
“My Divas, please aid me in apprehending our fallen star!”
“Squee!”
It’s fate that he should find you again
That he should have you again+
It was devastating waking up to find after his execution that he wasn’t reunited with you
But now he has
“Will you please just help the founders? I’m not your ‘star’ anymore.”
“How could you not be? Now that I’ve seen you, you’re burning so beautifully!”
“I’ve…found someone else Gundham.”
“....I see.”
He’ll understand liar
He’ll get back on his ship and leave you behind an act
He’ll let you live out your life alongside someone new wrong
The minute you’re around any large wildlife or swarm it’s over
They’ll do their dear Ultimate Breeder a fan by bringing you to him 
Switching off with others when it comes to water or islands
Eventually plopping you on the beach where he happily welcomes you
Commending their loyalty, he claims they did this without his judgment
“Their loyalty betrays my Star’s wishes, I’m sorry.But please for our class’ safety, you’ll stay with me us.”
As for the Remnant of Despair, it’s a miracle you even made it out
The animals are so much more vigilant 
Prepared to cripple you and drag you back to his side the second you step away
He is very intense about including you in his reshaping of the world
After all who wouldn’t be eager to share in the ritualistic sacrificing of those for despair
“It is I Gundham Tanaka! And my Star and I will be the ones to usher in this glorious revelry that is disastrous despair!”
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amerricanartwork · 1 day
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I want to say I love reading your headcanons, especially your Iterator ones. Do you have a unique headcanons for Pebbles, since you haven't talked about him much?
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Ohhh, I'm so glad to hear that!! I love creating and typing down these headcanons, but sometimes I worry whether anyone actually wants to read these long posts about it, so it's always so nice to hear people appreciate them!
I would love to talk more about Five Pebbles! I actually have quite a few headcanons for him specifically since I tend to ponder him a lot. In fact, of all the canon characters, when it comes to headcanons that aren't purely working out their general personality and backstory I think I currently have more outside headcanons for him than anyone else.
But nonetheless, assuming you mean "unique" as "interesting and relatively uncommon/unheard of in the fandom", here's one of mine that might seem odd or specific, but I really like it!
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
I’ve headcanoned for at least a few months now that Five Pebbles is very much an auditory learner. He’s more receptive to spoken and auditory information than just written text, and as such he tends to talk a lot, which is how he best formulates his ideas. 
Now, when I call him an auditory learner (or maybe just an audio-oriented person in general would be a better way to describe it), I also mean he generally cares a lot about how things “sound” to him. Five Pebbles pays close attention to how certain sounds “feel” in a sense, not just with regular abstract sounds, but spoken words, phrases, and ideas too. He likes it when sentences flow smoothly, convey the proper emotion or idea, and sound intellectual and well-thought-out, and dislikes when phrases sound clunky, confusing, or otherwise unprofessional and improper. In situations where he wants to appear smart and sophisticated, especially in a competitive sense, he loves flexing his extremely large vocabulary by throwing in long and obscure words and technical jargon too. To reference my last headcanon ask, this trait is another quality making him dislike NSH, who doesn’t care as much about grammar or syntax and thus tends to speak in casual ways Pebbles finds “improper”.
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Usually, when he has a decent amount of uninterrupted personal time, Pebbles will spend several hours on end just talking to himself in his chamber to work out his ideas and plan any essays or speeches he’s preparing to give. He loves making sure that every sentence sounds pleasing, proper, and is grammatically correct, yet still explains his ideas thoroughly and accurately. However, despite being an introvert who values his alone time, he sometimes talks about his ideas to other iterators, especially when he wants feedback and criticism. In fact, having long discussions and debates, particularly about scientific, artistic, and philosophical matters, is perhaps one of the only things he actively enjoys doing with other people.
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In this latter regard, this habit was actually one of the only reasons he occasionally, yet still actively sought out the presence of Unparalleled Innocence, someone whom I headcanon he never had much of a relationship at all with, positive or negative (at least pre-AU, that is). But nonetheless, Innocence is a very good listener and never declined an invitation to talk with him, though more often than not it turned more into him just rambling about something and her quietly listening and encouraging him to continue on (which she did for… other reasons besides her fascination with the subjects of his speeches, but I will get to those some other day…)
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Another facet to this headcanon is that Pebbles has a strong appreciation for music. He finds it helps him calm down and work through his emotions very well, alongside one other habit I’ll address in a more official headcanon post. Thus, he’s got various music pearls with his favorite tunes that he’ll listen to while working or when he needs to relax. The purple one in Rivulet’s campaign is only one of many, though that was also the only one he could obtain at the time his chamber was broken into by the rot. 
His love of music has always been another little “worldly pleasure” that he took for granted, not realizing just how much he enjoyed it until after mass-ascension. And even then, he stuffed it deep inside him and kept trying to downplay its value to him all the way until his rot condition was almost at its climax. This emotional turmoil I imagine him having is a particular element of his character arc I find very interesting even in regular Downpour canon, but once again I will elaborate on it more later…
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Anyway, there's the headcanon! Seeing as I'm planning to explain major character info in official headcanon posts, I tried to choose one that wasn't too essential for narrative comprehension, but is still unique and hopefully decently entertaining in-and-of itself. I also tried to use this to test a new format of doing more sketches for these headcanon posts, so it's not as much pure text.
Anyway, I hope you like it! And if you (or anyone else reading this, for that matter) ever want more headcanons, or can add to this one, don't be afraid to send another ask!
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staytinyville · 6 hours
Text
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Burn It (Pt. 1)
↣ Summary: You were only a decoy for all those who wanted your family off the throne. The real leader was your horrible sister who ruled with fear in their subjects. You only did what was told of you and if others came to assassinate you then so be it. 
↣ Characters/Pairing: Eventual!Min Yoongi x Reader, Slight Namjoon x Reader,
↣ Genre: Historical, Mature
↣ AU/Trope info: Historical!au, Queen!Reader, Rebel!Yoongi, 
↣ Word Count: 6.1k
↣ Warnings: Abuse, Toxic household, 
↣ A/N: Honestly I always get inspired by all the historical stories on here and I just really wanted to sit my ass down to write. Part two might just have smut y’all so tell me if you want lmao. Also can you please tell me what you guys think of my writing? I don’t know I want to publish sometime soon but like if I suck at writing why bother.
Staytinyville’s Permanent Taglist
↣ Affiliates: @k-labels , @k-vanity
↣ Special Tags: @anyamaris , @kpop-stories-21
↣ Special Thanks: Thank you @saradika-graphics for the amazing banners! Please go check her out if you have specific banners in mind. She is great!
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You usually slept on your back, worried about the day someone came into your room to do something. It was all you ever thought about the moment you were told why your parents truly made you the queen. 
You weren’t a light sleeper by any means, so you knew the moment someone stepped into your room something was going to happen. It wasn’t one of your guards who would announce their presence or even your family who you knew the staff would call out to you the moment they slammed the door open. 
You didn’t dare to move. Not when you could hear their steps in the room that were clearly trying to be quiet. Anyone who wasn’t trained to listen in to their surroundings were bound to be caught off guard by whoever it was. However after spending the last few years in fear of being killed in your sleep you taught yourself to pick up on the smallest of things.
You felt them reach the side of your bed, but still you didn’t move. You took in a deep breath, waiting for them to strike. When you made to move your body just the tiniest of bits, your eyes flew wide open at the person who suddenly had you pinned to your bed–a sharp blade placed against your throat. 
You swallowed softly, looking up into the face of your assassin. The light from outside the room was barely enough, but you could make out the scar that ran along the right side of his face. His cheeks that look round. The band that was tied against his forehead. The blonde hair that was neatly wrapped in a bun.
You didn’t make a sound though, only allowing your eyes to follow along his face. You could tell that after a moment, he began to grow confused, his eyebrows pulling together and head tilting to the side. 
You made no show of trying to fight him off. You didn’t even breathe harshly. Instead he watched as your eyes scanned over his face, eyes glittering in the moonlight that showed through the curtains. It left him baffled as you kept an even expression to it all.
“Why aren't you terrified?” He asked, clenching the blade’s handle. 
“There are things more terrifying than death.” You whispered, catching his attention.
There was a sad expression behind your eyes. He could see it hidden behind your facade. He almost faltered when he came to the realization that you were waiting for him to move the knife. But his resolve came back, quickly shaking his head to clear it.
“Then you should be thankful.” He sneered. 
He pressed the knife deep just barely breaking the skin. But he stopped completely when all you did was fall limply and close your eyes. His breath got caught in his throat, feeling conflicted over the way you were acting. 
He was told about how much of a tyrant the queen was. How she would strike at anyone who dared to even breathe in her direction. She was cruel and followed in her parents footsteps of ruling the kingdom with fear. Those who worked in the castle that were part of the rebellion had all said she was an emotionless person who didn’t even bother to look at when someone was being punished, not bothering to spare them her time. 
She was a menace, someone who didn’t deserve to be on the throne. But yet, here she was under his grip awaiting death to come to her without so much as a fight. She was hiding things behind her eyes that would be released come death. But Yoongi didn’t feel it in his heart to kill someone like that. Someone who was willing to give up their life for something haunting them.
He couldn’t stand to see others that way. Not when he had been there before. 
You felt the blade lose its pressure, opening your eyes to look at him once again. “What are you doing?” You asked.
“Are you questioning me when I have a knife to your neck?” He sneered, pressing the knife back to you.
“I thought you were going to—”
“Quiet.” He growled, slamming a fist into the pillow next to you. 
“Why aren't you calling for help?” He asked, moving to hover above you, his knife next to your head. 
“Who will be there to help me?” You whispered once more in that sad voice. 
“Your grace!” Someone called from outside of your bedroom. 
The man’s head snapped to the direction of the door, hearing the handles begin to twist to signal someone was going to come in. The assassin was quick to jump off the bed and out into the night without so much as a second in between. You rushed out of your bedspread, not caring about being in your nightgown. All you cared about was getting to stop the man. 
“Wait—”
You froze at the bottom of the steps that lead outside, catching as he turned around to face you under a lamp post. You could finally see his face in its entirety. The scar ran along his eye and down to his cheek. You were still as his face seemed to burn itself into your memory. You wanted to call out for him, ask him what he was doing. 
But there was something stopping you. The way he looked at you like he was torn. It was gone in a flash just as he was following the calling of your name from your bedroom. 
“(Y/N)?” You turned to find your personal guard looking around the room for you. “What are you doing outside?” He asked, walking up to you.
“Couldn't sleep.” You spoke softly. 
“What brings you by?” You asked the man, turning to face him. 
“I heard a man's voice. It was hostile.” He looked around the room just to make sure, moving things around that created dark spots.
“You have sharp hearing, Namjoon.” You smiled softly. 
“Nothing to worry about. Everything is fine.” You walked closer to him, causing him to look at you. 
You watched as his eyes went wide, hand reaching out to touch your neck. 
“You’re bleeding.” He wiped his thumb along the miniscule cut the man’s knife had left. 
You moved to wipe at it yourself, coming with bloody fingers. You furrowed your eyebrows, sighing to yourself. 
“I probably just scratched myself in my sleep.” You told him.
Namjoon was perceptive, but he wasn’t going to question it because he knew you. No matter how much he wanted to care for you when you got hurt, you were someone who kept to themselves. You weren’t going to allow others to know your pain. 
“I’ll clean it for you.” He said. 
You allowed the man to do as he pleased. You suddenly felt much too tired to allow yourself the time to clean up the wound. Besides, you always enjoyed your moments with Namjoon. He had been there since you became the so-called queen. He watched them put the crown on your head. Watched with a harsh breath and flare nostrils as he knew the truth behind it all. 
The only one who did. 
As you felt is large hands press softly into the skin of your neck you almost wanted to flinch at how easy it was for him to actually kill you. There will always be people out there much more skilled than you ever could be. Much more powerful. 
Tears welled in your eyes as you thought about it. You felt useless–like you life was miniscule. And it was in the eyes of your family. You didn’t realize a tear fell down your cheek until Namjoon moved to wipe at it. 
“Are you truly okay, my queen?”
Namjoon’s acknowledgment of your title had you squaring your shoulders, looking at the man with a small smile on your face. 
He was right. You were the queen–the one everyone called her majesty or bowed their heads to when you walked. It wasn’t your parents–your sister who walked with a smaller crown. It was you. Even if your family was the one who told you what to do in the end–you were the one who the kingdom saw as its queen. And you knew it was time to step into that role.
**
The time that passed was a long one. New bruises and wounds turned up on your body–hidden behind the hanbok you would wear. They would never dare to strike you across the face, not when the entire kingdom could see. They had images to keep up and people to boss around. It was their kingdom but you were the one they hated. 
You still walked with your head held high, nose turned up as you tried to remain emotionless. You had learned to perfect the look with all the eyes that followed you everywhere. You didn’t dare to showcase any kind of emotion. You knew if you did they would see it. And they didn’t want their subjects to know the queen was being ruled by fear. 
“Choosing a warrior for the princess is a perfect way of having her protected.” Your father’s general walked alongside the both of you. 
“Here are the fine gentlemen who decided to take up the mantle. It gives the common people a chance as well to be part of the royal court.” He explained looking over the men he had watched train to be the best warriors they could be. 
There were a total of 50 young and older men all standing in rows with hands behind their backs and legs spread to shoulder length. You didn’t bother to look at them because you knew that your family had already chosen you. 
“Thank you, general.” Your father smiled brightly. “We would only want the best for our daughter.”
He turned to you, the grin on his lips making your stomach turn as you tried not to sneer. Your eyes immediately dropped from his face, turning around as you finally began to scan the warriors who suddenly raised their heads at your discretion. 
“Your grace, please be sure to choose wisely. Munhee is your twin sister–she deserves to be protected just as much as you.” He offered in a sickenly sweet tone. 
“Of course, father.” You spoke monotonously. 
You begin to walk through the men, only picking you head up to give them a glance but continuing forward. You could see some of them gulp in worry while others let out breaths from your monotonous look. You were only courteous, meeting some of their eyes in order to make them think you were actually picking on your own. 
You continued on through the rows, trying your best to act like your parents had told you to. But there was a second–just one second–where your facade dropped and you came to stand still. He stood in another row, a bit shorter than those next to him. But he still kept a stoic face–facing forward in the position the general had them all stand. 
He was to the right of you, giving you the opportunity to see the long scar that ran down his face. There was a flutter in your heart that was created by anxiety. But it was fear, it was an anticipation that would lead you to win. 
No one noticed the way you stopped to stare or the way you started to breath harshly. Namjoon had been the only one, eyes moving to scan the crowd as he tried to find what made you stop. Your father continued forward with the general speaking to himself as he thought you were walking alongside him. 
“I hear that Sooyoung is quite the—”
“Him.” You interrupted your father. 
“What?” He stopped, turning around to quickly find who you were looking at. “Who?” 
You moved with calculated steps towards him, but he didn’t move from his position. 
“The one with the scar?” Your father spoke bewildered, glancing between you and the man. “But your grace, you can't possibly want—”
“I'm positive he is more than capable of taking care of Munhee.” You didn’t dare to move your eyes from the man. “He looks like he's been through tough battles.”
“Oh well, I don't remember seeing him during training much.” The general frowned as he squinted his eyes at the scar on the man’s cheek. 
“He does seem to have a memorable enough face.” The  general tsked but moved to turn away and back to the front of the rows of men. “Step forward boy!” 
With one last look at him, you turned to Namjoon who was following closely behind you. You watched him take in a breath, eyes scanning the man over as his eyebrows pulled together. Your face remained emotionless, turning around while lifting your nose up. You could see your father sneering as he began to follow behind you. 
“State your name.” The general asked once all of you made it to the front. 
“Agust.” He spoke deeply.
“What an odd name.” Your father waved off.
“Sounds western.” The general nodded to himself. 
“Are you positive this is the one you will choose your grace?” Your father spoke up. 
You could see the fury behind his eyes, the one that was clearly telling you to back out of the problem you had placed them all in. But you looked at him the same way you always would, not daring to move your head from his stare. You felt Namjoon grow closer to your back, his warmth seeping into your clothes. You moved your hand from under your sleeve–a silent request to tell him everything was okay. 
“Yes.” You didn’t hesitate. 
“Very well. The ceremony shall take place later this afternoon.” The general spoke up, humming to himself as he began to gather the other men. 
Yoongi watched as you didn’t give your father another look, walking away quickly with both your father and guard on your heels. Your robe billowed behind you as you fast walked, but he was quick to notice the way your father rushed up to you and caught our arm before the doors to the palace shut behind you all. 
“(Y/N), what is the meaning of this?” Your father sneered, gripping onto your arm tightly. “We decided already who would be the royal guard.”
“I'm sorry—” You flinched, unnoticed by the way you spoke with no emotions. 
Your lips turned downwards, a sneer waiting to overtake your face at the way your father was clutching tightly onto your wrist–enough to know it would be bruised in a little bit. Your hands clenched up, nails wanting to scratch at his arm for hurting you. But it wasn’t the right time.
“We will talk later.” With one last tight squeeze your father threw your arm from his grasp. 
It made you jerk backwards, teeth clenched as you were quick to soothe the ache. 
“Are you alright?” Namjoon walked closer to you, fingers lightly falling down your arm to take a look.
“Yes, I'm fine Namjoon.” You spoke, your emotionless voice causing him to straighten up.
As your gaze landed back on the closed doors the only thing that crossed your mind was the scar along that man’s cheek. There was no mistaking that mark–it was one that seemed to alter your way of thinking all together. You were brought back to the night that he held the knife to your neck. Made you bleed and a small barely noticeable scar being left behind. 
Your hand went up to your neck, feeling the uneven skin under your fingertips. 
“Namjoon, would you protect me if someone was to come and assassinate me?” You suddenly spoke up, looking towards the doors that lead to the courtyard. 
“What kind of question is that?” The man gasped, looking at your incredulously. “Of course I would—with my life.”
“Why?” You said absent mindlessly. 
“Because I am your royal guard—”
“Did you know there are people trying to kill the queen?” You stopped him, turning to face him completely. 
He gulped, watching as you grew closer to him. “Isn't there always? But that won't stop me from protecting you.”
“It's a rebellion, isn't it? People wanting to kill me.” You quietly spoke, watching as his eyes scanned over your face before falling to your neck where he could see the scar. 
His breathing began to grow rapidly, as he tried to come up with an answer. “They don't want to kill you—”
“So you know about it?”
“(Y/N), I swear I know nothing about it—” He began to sputter. 
“Namjoon, you are the only person I can trust in this palace. The only one who knows the truth. And now I want you to be honest with me. As your queen, I demand you tell me the truth.” You demanded. 
He suddenly stood up straight, taking in a deep breath. “Yes, your grace. There is a rebellion that is out to kill the queen. But it's not you they are after, it's Munhee. At least the one they're really after is Munhee.” 
There was something that seemed to lift off your shoulder hearing those words. It didn’t make you feel any better however it did make you understand that there were plans that needed to be put into motion. Plans that you were going to accomplish with certain people on your side. 
“(Y/N), did something happen?” He asked.
“That man.” You spoke up. “The one I placed as Munhee’s guard. You know him. I saw it in your face when I chose him.” 
He watched as your nose twitched and your eyes went glassy. “Namjoon, are you part of the rebellion?” 
“Never!” Namjoon shouted, taking a step closer to you. “I could never do you harm or wish for something as cruel as that to come to you. You mean everything to me. I will stop at nothing to protect you from those who wish you harm.”
Your breath got caught in your throat for a moment at his confession. His eyes expressed just how much he meant every word. Namjoon was the one person who had been with you since you were a girl hiding in corners from the abuse you would suffer at the hands of your family. He has seen you at your worst. Which means you had to be better for him. 
“Then how do you know him?” You asked. 
“I don’t personally know him. I’ve only ever seen him around the kingdom a couple of times.” Namjoon licked his lips, answering truthfully. 
He paused for a moment, pressing his lips together. “However, there could be someone who might.”
**
The ceremony wasn’t anything spectacular. Only the army was present and those of the palace staff. After the general proclaimed his speech to those around, he handed you a sword which you took in a tight grip walking forward towards Agust who kneeled at the stop of the stairs. 
“It is an honor to serve the royal family. As royal guard to the princess you shall take up the mantle as her protector.” You prattled off. 
“You shall put your life before hers to guarantee her safety. Do you accept this position?” You spoke loudly, keeping your eyes downcasted on the man who was kneeling in front of you. 
“Yes.” He spoke up, keeping his face down to the ground. 
“I hereby name you a royal guard to princess Munhee. May your sword always be sharp and your will always stay strong.” You ended, making him rise to grip onto the sword you were handing over to him. 
As he reached out for the sword that laid on your palms, your sleeve had moved down your arm, giving him full view of the darkening bruises in the shape of fingers on your wrist. He watched your hand suddenly clench onto the blade of the sword catching his attention and making him look up into your eyes. 
Your face still remained emotionless, but you made a small movement to get him to take the sword. He was quick to take it, bowing his head once more as he began to sheath the blade. Your hands fell to your side, causing the sleeve to fall over your wrist once more. 
There wasn’t much left of the ceremony other than you giving an emotionless speech about how you were grateful to the army for what they did. Once everything ended on a normal tone, the royal family turned around to enter the palace with the new royal guard in tow behind the entire entourage. 
“I can't believe this is the man you appointed!” Munhee screeched. “How stupid can you be!? Haven't you already done enough!?” 
She had been stomping her feet in front of you but quickly turned around to strike you across the face. Your face whipped to the side, not expecting the hit but you didn’t dare to make a sound or move a hand up to cradle your wound.
Yoongi watched with an emotionless face as you seemed to keep up the facade. Your guard was quick to step up to you, getting between you and the so-called princess. Yoongi glared at all of you, eyebrows pulling together at the debacle. 
“You insolent girl. You deserve everything that is coming your way.” She sneered at you.
“Munhee!” The old king sneered. “Do not strike her face!? How many times have we told you!?”
His eyebrows only seemed to pull together deeper, trying to figure out what the whole dynamic was between everyone. It seemed you only remained emotionless as your large guard took your arm softly. 
He didn’t understand what your place was in all of this. You were the queen who was above all of these people. And yet they seemed to take pleasure in screaming at you. You didn’t give any reaction to their words or actions–allowing them to do as they pleased. You were no queen after the whole thing. 
“Namjoon, take her to the healers quickly before she bruises.” Your father turned to your royal guard. “They have to fix it before she goes out in public.”
“Of course.” Namjoon spoke through a clenched jaw, softly pulling you along. 
You didn’t give Yoongi another look, keeping your head up as pieces of your hair fell out of your headpiece and into your face. He watched you leave before turning around as he heard the princess stomp closer to him. 
“Ugly, good for nothing.” The princess sneered, quickly turning from him. “Don't look at me. Your face belongs in a cell.”
The way she had her lips pulled up and nose scrunched up made her look ugly. It seemed she had done that face so much it stuck to her skin. It was clear she was your twin somehow but for some reason Yoongi found himself claiming your face was much easier to look at. 
“Forgive me.” Yoongi spoke monotonously. 
“What do we do with him?” Munhee didn’t pay him any mind, turning to her parents. 
“We'll have Namjoon teach him for now.” The old queen spoke carelessly. “Until we have a reason to get rid of him we can't do much. That would mean forsaking the general and his warriors.”
“Stupid traditions.” Munhee rolled her eyes. “Fine, keep him out of my sight. And give him a mask for when he is. I cannot stand to look at him.” She gave him one last sneer of her lips, stomping away with her parents in tow. 
“Of course.” Some guard for your parents announced. 
He began to walk away, so Yoongi assumed he was to follow after his superior. He was taken out of the back gardens and into another part of the palace. There were curtains that were billowing out of the room that gave it enough breeze. The guard takes Yoongi around the building towards the doors. 
“You may stay here for the time being.” The guard explained, opening the doors to a wide spacious room. 
“I will be sure to inform Namjoon of your whereabouts.” He bowed his head before turning to leave.
Yoongi had assumed he was left alone, watching with a raised brow as the guard seemed to walk away quickly. However when he suddenly felt a presence behind him, he was quick to turn. He watched as a stunning man seemed to tilt his head in confusion at the man. 
He was dressed in a translucent robe that draped down his body. He wore expensive looking jewelry and was cleaned much better than even the royal family themselves. Yoongi could smell the perfumes the man wore from where he stood a good three feet away. 
“New concubine? But no one said anything about it.” He spoke with a deep voice, but his eyes held childish wonder. 
“Concubine?” Yoongi questioned.
“Are you not one?” The man asked, stepping closer to the scarred one. “Isn't that why they brought you here?”
“I was appointed as royal guard to the princess.” Yoongi immediately answered, keeping his stare on the handsome man. 
“Makes more sense.” The concubine nodded to himself, lips forming a perfect pout. “Princess Munhee would never choose you.”
Yoongi suddenly frowned, giving the man an offended look.
“Taehyung, don't be rude.” Someone behind Yoongi spoke up. 
He quickly turned around finding another man dressed the same as the one in front of him. However, this one seemed to have puffier cheeks and shorter in structure. He also carried himself more sensually–confident in what he looked like. 
“I still think you're very handsome.” He smiled softly at Yoongi. “My name is Jimin. This is Taehyung. We are concubines for Princess Munhee.”
Once more the assassin was left confused. Why weren’t they concubines for the queen herself? It wasn’t really known that the princess had some of her own. 
“The princess? Not the queen?” He spoke out loud.
“She doesn't have any.” Taehyung answered. 
“Well except for Jungkook but he's just for show. He says he's never been with her let alone her bedroom. He's still a lucky bastard though.  I wish I was (Y/N)'s concubine.” He pouted, crossing his arms in a childish manner. 
“You like the queen?” Yoongi asked baffled. 
“Like?” Taehyung tilted his head to the side. “I love her! She's so kind and patient. She always treats our wounds after we've been with Munhee. She gives us extra sweets when she comes to see us. Anyone would fall in love with her.” He sighed dreamily.
Yoongi couldn’t stand to hear all that was falling from the poor man’s mouth. He only saw someone who had been brainwashed into thinking the queen was someone kind and nurturing. It did leave him a bit baffled to remember that it was the queen who had been striked across the face by the princess but that didn’t mean her emotionless heart wasn’t real. It was clear by the way she didn't react to the way she was treated. 
“She is a tyrant. How can you stand to live here as concubines? You don't get to see your family and as you said, you get wounds from the princess—”
“Exactly. From the princess.” Jimin interrupted, coming to stand in front of Yoongi. 
Jimin looked at him with squinted eyes that made him look seductive. But his words made it seem like Jimin was waiting for Yoongi to figure everything out. “There are things within the palace that are not correct. You'll find that out soon enough.” He told the man vaguely. 
The door suddenly open and all three men turned to look at who had entered. Taehyung beamed at Namjoon who gave the two concubines a bow of his head. Jimin only gave the man a small smile twirling around to go back to whatever it was he was doing before Yoongi had entered. 
“Agust, please follow me.” Namjoon called for him.  
Yoongi gave the two concubines one last look before following after the larger man. He began to lead him back to the main building, Yoongi trying to memorize the journey. 
“My name is Kim Namjoon—you can call me Namjoon. I am the royal guard to queen (Y/N). We will be working together closely.” He explained. 
Yoongi paused for a moment, clenching his jaw as he thought about the woman. “The queen—what did they do?”
“They gave her a cold patch.”
He lead Yoongi to another section of the palace that seemed to be full of different kinds of staff. It was close to the rooms of the royal families so Yoongi only assumed it was the building he would be staying in. 
“This is where we stay. We share a room along with the other royal guards.” It was a quick thing before Namjoon took off once more from the guard quarters.  
As Yoongi was looking around, trying to find escape routes or hiding places he didn’t notice Namjoon had come to a stop causing him to bump into the man. 
“What are you doing here? Do you know the risks of getting caught? You should leave before something happens to both you and the queen.” Namjoon quickly spoke, causing Yoongi to look at him oddly. 
Namjoon had a stern expression on his face but he didn’t care to reach out to kill the smaller man. It was clear that Namjoon knew who Yoongi was the moment he came into the palace. Namjoon was someone often spoken about within the group. One of the people who worked within the palace had explained that Namjoon would do anything to protect the queen from harm. 
However he also said that Namjoon would be more than willing to be on their side. It left him at a confused headspace over the bigger man. 
“I know that more than anything what will happen. I have a mission to complete. I can’t go back without results.” Yoongi spoke harshly. 
“For what? A murder that is unjustified?” Namjoon glared. 
“You know as well as everyone else just how justified it really is.” Yoongi retorted.
“I know you’re out to kill the wrong person. If you think you were the only one thinking about infiltrating the palace, you would be wrong.” Namjoon has his arms crossed, trying to make himself look bigger to intimidate the scarred man. 
“Namjoon?” A soft voice spoke up behind them. 
“I’m here, your grace.” Namjoon turned around to face you, watching as you walked closer to them with smaller robes that were easier to walk in. 
“Hello. It’s a pleasure to see you again.” You spoke up calmly, staring Yoongi down. 
“Cut the small talk. Why did you choose me?” Yoongi sneered, knowing the three of you were alone from others to keep from saying what he wanted. 
Namjoon glared, about to take a step towards him but you subtly moved your hand out to keep him from getting closer. 
“Did you not want to be chosen? Isn’t that why you infiltrated the army and applied to be the personal guard for Princess Munhee?” You questioned him.
“Why did you select me?” Yoongi pressed again.
You took a moment, irking him as you looked down at him. 
“I don’t know.” You merely shrugged.
“I can kill you right now.” He placed a hand on the sword you had given him, causing Namjoon to reach for his own.
You stopped them though when you walked closer to Yoongi. “You can but it won’t solve your problems.”
“It will solve many.” He sneered. 
“That’s what you think.” You told him.
He felt something in his chest watching you. He knew it was you, knew by the little scar that was under your head from the knick his blade had left months ago. Knew by the way you softly stared at him waiting for his next moves.
However you were different now. Different in the way you spoke—the way you held yourself. It was nighttime then though, he has never seen you before. But speaking with you now it wasn’t the same as the woman who was awaiting death with open arms.
“Where is she?” Yoongi asked. 
“Who?”
“The girl who waited for me to move my blade. The one who was hoping I would.” He spoke quietly, keeping you stare.
“I found a better chance.” You told him, speaking in that voice that told him how there were worse things to fear other than death. 
“One that lets me live the way I want. My personal guard will make sure to tell you of your duties. Do not mess it up.” You added sternly.
You turned around, Namjoon giving Yoongi one last harsh stare before turning to follow after you.
** 
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Namjoon asks you.
“I have suffered my whole life just for others to come and kill me in place of my sister.” You spoke softly looking down at the paper you had been writing on. “I’m done being the decoy they know they need. The plaything they would have their fun with when they were angry.”
You looked up when knocking comes from the door. “I was made the queen. And as far as the kingdom knows I am the Empress who rules. So that is what I will be.”
The double doors open wide as Yoongi struts his way in. Namjoon stands behind you with his hands clasped in front of him. He glanced your way, taking note of how you don’t bother to look up at him. From what the other concubines have claimed of you, Yoongi has yet to see it. 
“Sit.” You tell him, going back to writing a letter. 
He listens to your demand, sitting cross legged in front of your table as he waits for you to say something. It takes another 10 minutes before you do. By then Yoongi had a frown on his face from having wasted time sitting in front you, waiting.
“I have something to ask of you.” You told him.
When all you got was a raised brow, you continued. “I need you to take this to your leader.” You rolled up your letter and pushed it forward towards Yoongi.
“Leader?” He questioned.
“Don’t take me for a fool.” You clenched your jaw. “Someone sent you to kill me. And now I want to send them a letter.”
“Are you mad?” Yoongi scoffed.
“Not always.” You shrugged. “But you get tired after so much.” 
There it was again—the jab at your past. The jab in Yoongi’s chest that made him rethink about killing you. It was the suffering he heard in your voice. The one that didn’t care about what happened to them because they had already been through so much. 
“I don’t get it.” Yoongi told you. 
“Don’t get what?” You questioned.
“This!?” He says pointing to the letter you wanted him to send to his leader “Everything around the place. I came here knowing one thing but come to learn it’s not right.” 
“Information can get lost in translation.” You waved him off.
There was so much he didn’t understand. He hadn’t gotten the chance to speak with those in the group about the whole thing because he had been training with the army for the past couple of months. All he knew was that the queen was a tyrant who treated the people of her kingdom unfairly. 
But now he wanted to know if he was looking at the right person. 
“Tell me something.” Yoongi demanded.
“What is that?” You asked him.
“That a queen would allow someone beneath her to strike her.” He told you.
“What makes you think I’m not?” You asked him. 
“Not what?”
“Beneath them?” You take a deep breath thinking over something. “At least in their eyes.” 
This made him stop for moment. After witnessing the actions of her family Yoongi came to realize there were things wrong with the royal family. And after hearing the words of those who worked closely with them it was clear that the choice he made of sparing you was one that left his conscious free of guilt. 
“Are you trusting me?” He questioned you, realizing that you were about to tell him the truth.
“You’re going to find out sooner or later. In case you haven’t—I’m not the real queen. I’m only the one who takes the harsh blows of the tyranny my family causes. I’m just their scapegoat.” You explained. 
“If you do your job right there should be no consequences. You have my word.” You told him.
“Which job?” He questioned. 
“You should know which one, Min Yoongi.”
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Pt. 2 Y’all? Be sure to apply to my permenant taglist so you can be added to Pt. 2 if I come out with it lol.
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axhellart · 2 days
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Let's welcome the newest member of the Savanaclaw dorm ✨Axeru Noctiluca ✨
 ↓   ↓   ↓  More information below  ↓   ↓   ↓ 
Profile :
Gradee/Class: Sophomore/Class C
Birthday: August 2 (Leo) Age: 18
Height: 1.60 cm
Dominant Hand: Right
From: Coral Sea (to) Sunset Savannah.
Club: Film Research Club
Favorite Subject: Potionology
Best Subject: Potionology and Alchemy.
Likes: Cooking, singing, acting
Dislikes: The ocean/beach, mirrors
Favorite Food: Spaguetti.
Least Favorite Food: Seafood (except tuna)
Talent: Acting.
✨Voice Claim:
(Haha capcut ruining everything but im so lazy, meh) ↓   ↓   ↓ More Info  ↓   ↓   ↓
A rather emotional and meticulous young man. The word “loyalty” means everything to him. Despite that he spends most of his time dissociated wandering in his own world and tends to silently judge people before getting to know them thoroughly. Reckless, stubborn and self-absorbed, he nevertheless watches over and cares for those he considers friends and family.
↓   ↓   ↓ Curious data (Axhell thoughts) ↓   ↓   ↓
At the beginning I thought Axeru was a self insert and… he is, so I want you to understand that it is very funny and at the same time a bit curious how I found similarities with Ariel from the Little Mermaid with myself.
I had my hair like that about a year and a half ago and as I loved the way I looked so I wanted to leave him with that style; clearly I was changing things as I progressed in the design to give him that..."anime essence" I guess ¿?
If you are wondering why I put Coral Sea to Sunset Savanna in its place of origin, everything has its explanation in his lore. Maybe someday I will explain it...
That's all, the image for the cover of the first image I found it on google so I don't know the credits as such, if someone can tell me I would be eternally grateful! All the drawings were made by myself using the original sprites from the game.
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poppitron360 · 1 day
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Someone sent me an ask ages ago about my Valdangelo hcs, but it somehow got deleted? I’m really really sorry bc I missed a chance of a lifetime to infodump so I hope you’re reading this if that was you and you’ve been waiting for my response- here it is. Please please please don’t be discouraged I love it when people send me asks.
This also doubles up as the third instalment of my series about “Why Literally Any Ship Is Better Than Caleo/Deep-Dive Into My Thoughts On All Leo Ships”:
Pt. 1 Valzhang
Pt. 2 Valgrace
We were robbed of Leo and Nico’s friendship. I get that there are a lot of characters and so many arcs to give them, but I wish that Rick had given them more time to interact and spent less time on Caleo, because tbh we never really cared about Cal for any reason other than to develop the men’s arcs. Because Platonic Valdangelo has so much potential that just isn’t covered in the books, I’m gonna base most of this post on what COULD’VE been, from fannon and headcannons.
1. They are Trauma Twinsies. By that, I mean they are both metaphors for different ways of coping with loss. Nico pushes others away from himself, not wanting to get close to anyone. Leo pushes himself away from others, hiding behind an idealised version of himself. Both believe that letting others in would just lead to rejection, and so they shut everyone out to protect themselves. But I feel like Nico copes with it a lot better than Leo does. He has an outlet for it- being emo. As someone who dabbles with emoism myself, I can tell you that, for me, wearing those clothes actually makes me incredibly happy. Nico is owning his pain. Leo is bottling it all up inside and then hiding it behind the jokes and the smiles. I feel like Nico could teach Leo to let it out a bit.
2. Also, their backstories match in more ways than one. Both their moms were killed because of a prophecy about them- leading them both to blame themselves for their deaths. Both have been treated as outcasts because of their powers, Nico by CHB and CJ, Leo by his family (and probably CHB as well, though we don’t really see how he was treated after revealing his abilities). Both ran away because of that. Both probably have religious trauma. They’ve both lost everyone they’ve ever cared about. They’re both being smothered with love and affection by Jason and the rest of the fandom. They both cope with feeling alone by spending more time talking to things that aren’t alive, Nico to the dead, Leo to his machines.
3. So imagine how they could seek comfort in each other! They’ve both been through similar things, so they understand each other’s pain way better than the others. I mean, Jason means well, but he’s never truly known what it’s like to be an outcast- he was held aloft on a golden shield and pronounced Preator. Neither of them would try to “fix” the other, and they wouldn’t try to “one up” the other either. They just share, and when the other says “that sucks”, they know that they really mean it. I imagine they sit five feet apart and just cry. No talking necessary, just silent understanding passing between them. They keep each other company, because they both know what it’s like to be alone.
4. They are both autistic (headcannon). Thank you to @aroaceleovaldez for opening my eyes to this one, and in fact making me realise a few things about myself and why I relate to Leo and Nico so much (pls go check out their posts on the subject, they do a much better job at explaining it than me). But it’s true. I don’t know if Rick did it intentionally or not, but I henceforth hath claimed them both as my kin, alongside Hephaestus himself (“I don’t understand organic life forms”- me neither, man, me neither). Leo and Nico communicate on the same wavelength, something Caleo doesn’t do. Calypso explodes at him for not fitting the “hero” stereotype, for being different. She has no patience with Leo when he does a social fuck-up, something I personally find incredibly frustrating. When he does something wrong, she just shouts at him, and doesn’t take the time to explain what he should do differently. No wonder Leo immediately got defensive! Here was this random woman yelling at him because he broke her table, and he didn’t understand what he did wrong.
5. They are both tiny- much like how Leo and Frank’s physical appearances symbolise their differences, Leo and Nico’s symbolise their similarities. Because all sad people are short, apparently. Valzhang is the yin and the yang, Valdangelo is just two yins excitedly info-dumping about their special interests, (Mythomagic, Machinery/Dragons). Their shortness could be metaphors for many things that they have in common, but I think it best symbolises their loss of childhoods. Nico has changed a lot since he was that happy little ten-year-old we first met in ttc, but Rick never lets us forget that he’s still just a kid. Leo always lacked the physical advantage in fights, so he’s had to learn from an early age to use his brains and his wits to defend himself. As a result, he grew up way too fast, but he still projects that silly, hyperactive little-boy energy as a way to mask. Calypso ridicules Leo for his height and his scrawny appearance.
6. Nico could let Leo get closure on his mom. Think about it. He’d be able to summon her, let him make peace, and let him realise that she does not blame him for her death. Nico could console Leo, reassure him that it wasn’t his fault, because Nico understands more than anybody what Leo is going through. This helps Leo on his arc way more than Calypso could, help him get closure, and learn to accept himself and his powers.
So, the summary of all these points is: They can understand each other on ANOTHER LEVEL. More than Cal and Leo ever could.
Like I said in my Valzhang post, it doesn’t have to be romantic. I hate that everything revolves around romance. Platonic relationships are important, y’all! We all need them, especially Leo, considering how insecure he feels about being the “seventh wheel”.
What ship should I do next? These are all the ones I actively ship, but anything’s better than Caleo. Liper could be fun, or Perleo. Maybe, to prove that literally anything is better than Caleo, I’ll do Leo x Octavian? Lmk in the comments.
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042502 · 2 days
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☆༉ — CHRIS STURNIOLO. The Unwritten Rule.
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about. Everyone knows the rule, don't fall in love with your best friend's boyfriend.
author's note. This is the chapter 7, I hope it sounds interesting to you. My first language is not English. masterlis!
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I started to relax a little after working for a while. Because Anna doesn't care about assignments when it's something she wants to do, like the individual investigative report we were assigned as part of the grade. He gives everything of himself, even more.
In eighth grade, she did an awesome interactive project about Broadway. He wrote about actors and actresses who were good in their day, and used their stories in a report, almost a book due to its length, about what Broadway represents for those who were part of the works that made it important.
It was so good that our English teacher wanted to talk to Anna's mom to try to publish it, but Anna's mom is always busy, and at the end-of-term ceremony she had to leave early, even before Anna received her award.
"Here," she says, pushing aside the book she was holding. "Now I know exactly what the proposal will be for my project - Broadway's fight to keep the ever-growing members of the media on edge.”
"Wow," I say, and she smiles.
"I know! Great, right?"
"Too much.”
She stretches and leans toward Chris. "What are you doing?"
"I don't know yet," he confesses. "Maybe something about how artists practice in a society where funds are harder to find, and how there are no real stars in the field anymore. At least not the ones everyone hears.”
"Because there is no money in them, just like you said," he remarked. "It's easy to be famous for just being someone, and that's what usually pays. Or at least it gives you something." Now his eyes are on me. “What are you doing?”
I shrug and Anna nudges my leg with her foot, smiling. "You already know that," she frowned, confused. "shoes, of course. Your obsession, which is completely strange" there was silence until she spoke again which is great.
"I don't think it's strange" Chris didn't seem to share Anna's thought. "I've never been to as many Broadway shows as how many, fifty? But I'm not saying you're obsessed."
"That's different," Anna babbles, "Why are you so mean? Ada, aren't you being mean to me?"
I know what I'm supposed to say, “yes” and then Anna will say “thank you” pretending to be sad and then she'll flirt with Chris and throw herself at him and... Why does Anna have to make me feel so bad sometimes?
"Good, now you're both being mean to me" he crossed his arms, pouting his lips pretending to be sad. "He's sorry that Broadway isn't as good as what you call art, Chris." He stops looking at Chris and now turns to me. "I'm sorry I don't want to read about shoes or spend years making ones that no one will see because who looks at feet?" oh that was really hurtful.
"I need some air." Chris stands up abruptly, walking out of the room. After a few seconds he heard the patio door sliding.
"Oh shit," Anna curses.
My gaze falls to the ground. "Do you think it's weird that I like shoes? Really?" I dare to ask him, still keeping my gaze on the ground.
"No," she replied, she was looking at the door and then I see her shake her head. "Not really. It's different, but it works for you."
What are you trying to tell me?
"What do you think I should do about Chris?" I change the subject so quickly, of course after all the only thing that matters is her relationship with Chris and not how I may feel. "Boys have gotten upset with me before, but it's always been for things like I don't want to be with them or talking to another boy. I don't understand why he's upset. I haven't said anything bad about him or his art," she bites her bottom lip for a second. "Well, not really anything bad. Would you go talk to him? See how upset he is?”
"I don't want to get involved, Anna" I looked up at her, with a serious face.
"Get involved? Come on, Ada. You just have to know why he's upset with me. It's asking him a question, and you've done it before. Besides, he didn't go against you."
"He didn't go against you, either. He just came out to take a breather." Of course, it's all about you, isn't it? "And I think you should go out and..."
I stop when Anna gives me a cold look, she is upset.
"I didn't tell you everything that happened last night”
Whats?!
"I asked Mike if he wanted to go out with me. I wanted to show that I can kiss someone else and it wouldn't be like kissing Chris. But it didn't happen like that. I keep thinking about what he would do if he saw me, and it wouldn't be like she was with another guy. I can't even imagine it focusing or anything. I can only see him leaving me and…” he sighs. "I couldn't stand it, and I'm sorry I said what I said about you and your shoes. You're not mad at me, right?”
"Just hurt" I notice Anna's surprised look.
"I didn't mean to..." his voice trailed off. "When I say things like that, I don't mean for them to sound bad. You know that, right?”
I nod, because I know, and Anna smiles as she stands up. She nudges me with her knee to make me follow her.
"Let's go" is already happy again. "Talk to Chris, I'll prepare something to eat."
I stare at her, jealous, I get upset with myself for it and she bites her lip.
"I'm really sorry. I'm a horrible person. You shouldn't go out with me, and now you know why my parents never want to be around me."
Her voice breaks on the last few words, and I know exactly why Anna is the way she is, why she's so quick to say words that hurt more than she thinks. I know why she is so scared of being left behind. Why did it happen to you?
"Your parents suck. Too much," I spoke truthfully. "And I've wanted to be with you since we were in kindergarten."
"Oh really?" I nod my head in response. "Thank you" she whispered, hugging me and then she walks away and pushes me towards the patio door, we walk together towards the door without going through it.
"Look at him" we both looked at Chris. "Its not cute?"
He was standing outside, a few steps from Anna's yard, with his head down, his eyes closed. He looks tired and sad. It made me want to run up to him and hug him and tell him to let it all go.
"He's fine" I speak, Anna laughs and opens the door now pushing me through it gently. Pushing me towards Chris. He turns around as I do so.
He takes a step towards it and I can hear Anna humming as she closes the door. I wanted to go back and sit on the couch.
But really what I want is to be with him out here alone.
"Chris?" I said, hoping my body wouldn't shake like that just from saying his name.
"Hey" he said, turning to face me, the light that was supposed to shine on the back garden and exposed potential thieves or the weed or whatever was there just for him at this moment, just shining on him, and he's magnificent, and I kissed him.
I kissed him, and he kissed me, I should have talked touching his hair, I should have memorized the feeling of his mouth, there should be more than just thinking. "Yes, this is it, this is what I've been waiting for, this is how it had to be."
"Anna is very worried," I said, but the words came very quickly, as if by not getting them out of my mouth quickly enough I would stop thinking. I would stop loving. "She likes you a lot" and now my voice was cracking, but I wasn't sad, I'm not. I forced myself to smile, spreading my mouth wide. "She'll even make you something to eat."
She's never done that for another guy.
He looked at me, and I wondered if he could look inside my head, if he could see the words that I had no longer said out loud, and that I wouldn't dare say.
"Are you okay?" he asked me, still looking at me, I felt my smile slip, fade, and the silence that fell upon us was so full that I could hear nothing, neither the hiss of my heart beating in my chest, nor the sounds around us; insects, the wind, and the other distant rumbles in each other's lives in houses built close, but not too close because when you look out the window all we pretend to be seeing is the new.
But Chris is not mine.
"I'm fine," I replied. Looking over my shoulder, I caught a view of Anna moving around the kitchen, with fluid grace even when doing something as ordinary as making popcorn. She could get extra butter just because she knew I liked it, I knew that about her just like I know she had chickenpox when she was four, and she had a scar on her right ankle because of that, the only place she had been marked, her mother told her that she had been bad for doing that and it made her cry. "I'm fine" I said again, and this time when I looked at Chris I forced myself to look at him with Anna the first time, that first night at the party at the end of summer, and then the moments that came, after school, weeks of them together. Weeks, which I did because I had to see what was real.
"You should go in and talk to her" he pointed inside. "I'll give you five minutes of privacy and then I'll go in, grab my things and leave."
He looked at the ground. "Can I ask you something?"
Yeah. No Yes. I sang internally, I forced myself to shrug my shoulders, to say “sure.” Without words right now I couldn't do anything.
"Ada" He said coming closer, my fingers curled inside my sneakers, waiting. Waiting for whatever was to come. "I need to know something, you... Do you remember the party before school started? You were in the studio and I came in.”
I nodded, watching his torso work, his pale skin caught in the glow of the light falling on the darkness.
"I really wanted to keep talking to you" the words came out in a whisper. "And when I called your house the next day, I didn't call for Anna, Ada. I wanted to talk to you."
"With me?"
"Yes," his voice was rough, intense, and we were too close to touch, but we weren't, we weren't.
But I could feel everything around us, with every breath I took there was the promise of his skin touching mine, and I wanted that.
I wanted us to kiss again, I wanted him to kiss me, I wanted him.
I love him, and he is looking at me like he looked at me that night.
He is looking at me like he wants to kiss me.
"Chris" His name came out of my lips like a plea. I was afraid of this, of him, of me, especially of him and me. But not enough, not as it should. Then his head lowered toward mine and I rose to my feet, longing to find him and then...
And then Anna's mother yelled, "Who the hell parked their car in my garage?!"
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author's note. If you want to be part of the taglist leave a comment below and I will add you. Thanks for reading, remember to like, share with your friends and leave a nice comment ^^
taglist. @l34n @jetaimevous @jnkvivi @loveyoumatthewbernard @d1tzy-bl0nde @laxbabe131147 @slut4chriss @dontellaf1lms @surniolozzzprincess @sturnlova @inlovewithchriss @whicked-hazlatwhore @mattsgirlsblog @nsjsnshey @always-reading @y-s-a-p @h3arts4harry
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hiiragi7 · 9 hours
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Final Fusion with Introjects
Throughout the time that I was a more, well, multiple multiple (ie, prior to final fusion), I don't think I ever really thought of myself as "introject heavy" (though I did have many introjects). My introjects were "source-un/attached" to varying degrees, from being completely unattached to being very attached to a lot of things in the middle.
Personally, I had never really thought much about what would happen to these introject identities once I had fused (either fully or partially). As I fused more, I noticed the introjects in my system growing more into themselves and, naturally, away from viewing themselves solely as their sources. This isn't to say all of my introjects stopped identifying with source entirely, however; in fact, one of the last handful of seperated parts in my system prior to final fusion was still at least somewhat source-identified at the time of the last few fusions.
What I have noticed, post-fusion, is that those introject identities all went somewhere, flowed into me, in their own ways. For introjects of people I've known (ie abuser introjects and introjects of people close to me), it's become "behaviors/traits/language I got from [xyz person]". For fictives, it's become a way of understanding myself through fictional media; Why I related to these characters so deeply and why my parts took on these identities.
I can definitely say that I do still identify with, in some way, all of the introject identities my individual parts took on - just the same as I still identify with the identities of my individual parts who did not have an introject identity. However, it is in a much different way from how it was pre-fusion; My identity as a whole is not that of an introject. To me, that would be no different from identifying as individual parts, anyway. (I acknowledge, of course, it is different for everyone; this is just how it is for me.)
Instead, what it's like now is more along the lines of "wow, I really relate to this," "the connection I have to this [character/person/media] is a really important part of me," "this influenced my sense of self a lot".
I wouldn't know if it's similar or not to how non-multiples experience these sorts of connections; I don't tend to be one for those sorts of comparisons. It is a lot different, however, from how I experienced it prior to final fusion. I personally haven't seen any others talking about this subject and had some thoughts on how it's been for me.
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tinywitchdraws · 13 hours
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The Survivors of House Harkonnen
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Part 1/?
Feyd-Rautha x Atreides!Female Original Character
Summary:
Paul is dead. Her twin sister, Aria Atreides, swears revenge on Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen for his murder. When the Imperium gifts the Baron Harkonnen Aria as his ward, Aria realizes that Feyd-Rautha may be the only person that understands her situation- and the only person that can help her survive.
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“—my lunatic. She’s mad but mine, mine.” — Jean Rhys, Wide Sargasso Sea
     It was a beautiful day on Arrakis, when Aria Atreides’s brother died. His lifeblood flowed from his neck like wine onto the sandstone. Wet, horrible sucking sounds sputtered from his lungs for a moment that felt like an age. The Fremen disappeared into the sand as quickly as they emerged. The prophecy was over, their prophet had failed.      “NO!” She heard her mother yell before the Sadukar gagged her and began dragging her away. They were already behind Aria, but she didn’t move. Aria stayed, the tiniest shred of her hoping that he would survive this. In those final moments, a truth solidified in her mind. That she did not want Muadib… she wanted her brother Paul. Spice twinkled in the suspended air as the life left his eyes at last. A mercy, that it did not take long- but he was gone now. Her bother was gone forever. The sands of Arrakis had taken him at last.      Aria stifled the primal need to cry, shoving the hard knife of sorrow down and swallowing it into her. She would not cry- it was death to cry on Arrakis. She would not give her water to the dead. Her breaths were hard and panicked as she fixed her gaze on her brothers body. Half of her soul was gone today, and she felt the gaping, sucking wound inside of her. “I will have revenge.” She muttered to herself, “I will have revenge for you, Paul.”      The man that killed her brother turned and strode toward her. His posture was casual, hooded eyes glinting in the setting sun.      “What have we here?” Feyd-Rautha —The Harkonnen murderer rasped in a harsh voice that sounded almost metallic. He closed the space between them in a moment, her brother’s blood still dripping from the knife in his hand. A sharp wheeze left his lips and fell onto hers as he approached her, almost too strained to hear. If Paul had punctured a lung, the Na-Baron was a walking corpse already. His pale hands grabbed her face in one hand and turned it, like inspecting a prize cow. Aria moved to strike him and found herself instantly restrained by Sadukar. The sharp blade of a knife was at her neck.      “Going to kill me too?” She hissed at him.      “Perhaps.” He muttered softly, taking in every inch of her with his cold eyes. Aria stiffened as he worked their way up and down her body. Her breathing became shallow and fast as revulsion crept up on her mind.      His eyes began tracing the lines and cracks of her stilsuit. She saw him do it- because he made it obvious. “He thinks he can toy with me.” She thought as the rage shook her mind. The hard line of her mouth quivered as she lurched forward. She spit on the Na-Baron’s face.      Feyd raised an open hand, stopping the guards moving to slit her throat. “Interesting.” He muttered as he wiped the spit from his cheek. His eyes met hers as he licked it on the palm of his hand. “I accept the gift of your water, little Atreides.” The Na-Baron smirked as he continued, “You will be welcome here, cousin.”      He said something curt, in a garbled language that Aria couldn’t understand, and she was dragged away. Swallowed into the darkness of House Harkonnen, the last Attriedes child began to plot her revenge.
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     The Harkonnen servants considered Aria’s hair an absolute terror. Feyd must have ordered her bathed before being wrapped in a black bathrobe and confined to a cell in the depths of Arrakis. A bath was unheard of, but Feyd must have reasons for subjecting her to it- and Aria had no intention of finding out what they were. The servants had managed to bathe and clothe her without a struggle before chaining her up in her cell, but her hair was another story. It was a veritable rat’s nest- years of dry desert air and sun damage hand made it brittle and sweaty treks across the sand at night had left it matted. It had been easy to convince them to let her have the comb and keep it.      Bracing one edge against the metal corner of her opposite handcuff and slowly wearing away at the smoothness, until she had shaped a pointed edge. Fit for stabbing. But she was more likely to stab herself if it didn’t have a handle.      Aria stifled a scream in the dark as she unwound the bandages on her feet. The blood on her feet had already dried, and her flesh was tentatively starting to heal the massive blisters that shredded her heels and toes. He brother had ridden a worm in on the first wave of the invasion. Aria, grouped with the secondary fighting forces, had walked.      Blood began to gush and then slowed to a trickle, hot pain searing into her. “You can do this.” Aria Atreides told herself, “For Paul.” She wrapped the bandage around the hand of the shiv and used a bit of sticky blood to weld the ends of the bandage it firmly in place. In the dark of her cell, she gripped the handle in her shaking hands. The shiv was a rough thing- no balance, and likely to snap- but it would serve its purpose.      She would kill Feyd-Rautha.
—-      Aria startled awake in the small hours to the black cloaked silhouette of the Na-Baron stalked towards her. Pale lavender light of the rising sun glinted off of the obsidian walls in the stronghold. Those dark, snake like eyes were sizing her up as he crept closer. All according to plan- she only needed to stab him once if she played her cards right. Aria took a deep breath and tightened her grip- on a shiv that was not there.      “Fuck.” She gasped, “Shit. Shit!” Her hands searched the darkness around her. She found it, closed on the handle and pointed at Feyd-Rautha, who stood at arm’s length from her.      “Interesting.” Feyd-Rautha said, a slight smirk appearing on his ghostly pale face. “Good morning, little bird.” He crouched down slowly, his grey eyes flickering with a building intensity between Aria and the point of the knife. An understanding seemed to pass between them in the dull light of the holding cell. That she could kill him, and that Feyd seemed… surprisingly amused by the prospect.      “Don’t. I’ll handle this.” Feyd commanded the guard behind him.      “You killed my brother.” Aria spat as she held the knife between them, “Like a dog.”      “Happily.” Feyd smiled, eyeing the knife, “Are you waiting for an invitation?” His eyes shifted to hers, his right hand drifting towards his own knife. The guard shifted in the background, but Aria didn’t care. There was a chance that she could kill Feyd before that guard drew his blade- and she intended to take it. Aria lashed out to stab the shiv into the side of Feyd’s neck, hilt deep. In one smooth motion, Feyd caught her hand in the half of her shiv.      She felt his grip harden on her hand, gliding her momentum into his. His expression hardened, his mouth a thin line of anger. The path of his arm folded into hers, accelerating in an arc and missing his own neck by a hair. The shiv found it’s mark at his direction- just below the jaw of the guard. He slammed his other palm into the handle- a tap, and then a sickening twist through the sinews of the man’s neck. Feyd took out the knife with a sharp yank and spat on the fresh corpse.      “This wasn’t for you, Atreides.” Feyd said at last, “Disobedience is like rot. Easier to cut it out.” There was a moment of tense silence, his hand closed over hers. Aria’s eyes were fixed on the dead man before her, his lifeless eyes drifting towards her. Feyd noticed her distraction before she could shake it, and took the opening. He tapped her wrist hard with his opposite hand, causing a shiver to run up her arm as she released the knife. He caught it in his hand with a satisfied smile.      Feyd blinked and inspected his prize, turning it between his fingers. “You made this, didn’t you?” His eyes fixed on it.      “Yes.” Aria growled.      “Fascinating.” Feyd whispered, inspecting the blood on the handle. The glint in his eyes told her that he had just put together exactly how she’d made the handle. “Can I have it?” He asked excitedly, his eyes hopeful.      Aria balked at the notion. “No!“      “I’d get you a better one.” Feyd countered immediately.      “I don’t want a better one. I want my knife.”      “Fine. Fair.” Feyd sighed impatiently, tucking the shiv into his right inside shirt pocket, “Follow me.”      “Hey!” Aria protested.      “Ah.” Feyd said as he produced a key and unlocked her cuffs with a click, “I forgot.”      Aria shuddered in angry confusion for a moment before she finally managed, “Give it back!”      “No.” Feyd scolded her, “Later. Unless you’d rather take responsibility, honorable Atreides…“ His eyebrow raised as he gestured to the newly dead man on the floor.      Aria grimaced at Feyd.       “We are leaving for Geidi Prime.” He told her as he turned to leave with Aria limping slightly behind him. “Faster, Atreides. My Uncle is not a patient man.”
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How would Ford get kicked out instead of Stan?
So, a bit ago, @ckret2 posted an essay expressing frustration about the fandom portrayal of Filbrick. Filbrick is often characterized as violently and irredeemably abusive, whereas ckret2 cites some very convincing evidence that he was a well-meaning but authoritarian father - not a good dad, but not an evil person.
This discussion was prompted because ckret2 was considering an AU in which Ford never goes to college and ckret2 prefers the smallest possible change in AUs.
I wanted to link those posts because they have absolutely gotten me thinking about the subject. The following will make more sense if you've read that essay and this follow-up about Filbrick's regret over Stan's behavior. I accept the contents as canon for the purposes of this post.
(For completion's sake, the entire discussion was prompted by a Ford as a Trucker AU, but the following doesn't actually have anything to do with that.)
Let's make Ford the kind of person Filbrick would kick out of the house
Stan's eviction is the end result of many, many years of contention between Stan and Filbrick - an earnest last-ditch effort by a desperate father to get his delinquent son to shape up, and a decision he only made because he thought Stan was legitimately malicious. Most AUs in which Ford is kicked out instead of Stan will just rewrite the Science Fair scene so that Stan has more to lose than Ford. If we're talking "smallest possible change," though, I don't find that convincing. If Filbrick was an unpredictable maniac who's ready to ditch his kids at a moments notice? Yeah, fine, any small mistake by either one of them would work. But if Filbrick has been earnestly trying to be a good father, and just didn't feel like he was getting through? One mistake, even a big one, from his less troublesome son would be unlikely to prompt a disowning.
So, my question is: what "single small change" early in life would lead Stan and Ford to develop in a way that flipped Filbrick's expectations of them?
Personality traits and how they affect the relationships
Let's talk about Filbrick, Stanley, and Ford.
So, first of all: Filbrick wants is sons to be industrious, tough, honest, and hard-working. Those are the qualities that matter to him. He makes them box so that they'll be able to stand up for themselves and others. He fights with Stanley because Stanley is a thieving scam artist. He demands the kids be profitable and successful because that is a mark of success as an adult for him. If we assume that the twins were an unplanned pregnancy, then he also firmly believes in taking responsibility for your mistakes -- in owning up.
Stanley is a born liar. Like, even his playful and friendly interactions with his family involved good-natured lies. (He reminds me of one of my uncles, who was an avid prankster up until the time he went up against me, but that's a whole story that I won't get into here.) I think in order to be on Filbrick's good side, he'd have to prove that he was honest in his own way - for example, by defending people when it really mattered even at the expense of his own reputation, or by refusing to take advantage of someone who has wronged him. I don't think canon Stan would do either of those things for anyone except family, but canon Stan is also convinced that nothing he does will ever be good enough. His last, dying words were "I guess I was good for something." He never until that moment thought he was. We need to make sure that he earns some self-respect earlier in life.
Now we need to find a flaw in Ford to exacerbate to the scale Stan had in canon. This isn't really hard, honestly. Ford may have been the less troublesome kid in high school, but he is ruthlessly ambitious, and as an adult he will steal or destroy anything to get the results he wants. I think that the reason he was the less troublesome kid is because there really isn't a good way that a high schooler can be ambitious at the expense of the people around them on a scale that matters. The stakes are just too low. Maybe Ford put down his classmates to secure a win in a spelling bee or stole an answer key once or twice, but it's hard to imagine Filbrick caring about schoolkid drama. That said, if Ford did have an aspiration - a science project, for instance - that he became truly obsessed with, it's easy to imagine him stealing or breaking things to achieve it.
So, how would we make stealing and destroying things a pattern of behavior for Ford, instead of a single one-off mistake? And how would we make Stanley's good-heartedness and self-sacrificing nature something that is visible to his father and overwhelms his tendency to lie?
Oh, and one more thing:
The big fight didn't just happen because Ford lost something he wanted. The entire Tale of Two Stans is about two twins who are very close to each other when they're young drifting apart over time as their needs, ambitions, and hobbies begin to diverge.
How do we make this separation happen in a way that flips the script?
Ford as a more isolated kid
Ford has a one-track mind.
In order to make this alternate canon work, I want to isolate Stan and Ford from each other very quickly. Filbrick might not be violently abusive, but he does ignore the kids, and Ford is already isolated from his peers due to bullying and poor social skills. If Stan isn't spending all of his time with Ford, then Ford might become more and more withdrawn. I don't think he would even be unhappy! Maybe a little lonely, but he's a bright kid with varied interests, and he'd keep himself occupied. But he might get a little... unhinged.
My Ford sans Stan is a kid that gets into trouble. A lot of trouble. Way more trouble than parents should have to deal with.
He gets arrested for disassembling abandoned cars. He gets detention for melting things in the chemistry lab. He gets stitches and tetanus shots after climbing under bridges, or ends up in the burn ward because he stuck a fork in an outlet. (I knew multiple academically gifted children who did this, what is wrong with you guys.) He might make a weapon like a nail gun because he thinks it's cool, and while that wouldn't cause as many alarm bells in 1980 as in 2020, it gould get someone seriously hurt. And, moreover, no matter how many times he's yelled at or bailed out or suspended or has his privileges revoked, he just doesn't get it. He'll express genuine remorse every time, but Filbrick will stop believing him after a while because he never changes. He never changes because... well. Because he is incorrect about what's wrong.
This version of Ford is isolated from his peers and doesn't have his brother to entertain him, so he's extremely self-centered. He doesn't think about the consequences of his actions and he doesn't think about how they might affect others. Let's say he snuck into the chemistry lab after hours, did an experiment without adult supervision, and ended up catching a shelf on fire. When he is punished, he's contrite and apologetic. He earnest in his expression of grief. He feels horrible. You'll tell him what he did wrong, and he will say, "I know," and accept his punishment without complaint. But, if you were to actually ask him what he did wrong, the answer will be:
"I used the wrong solvent." Or, at best: "I wasn't careful enough."
Nothing about disrespect for property. Nothing about breaking the rules. Nothing that reflects the fact that he is a child using someone else's resources to try a dangerous experiment without permission or supervision.
I don't think the adults around him, least of all Filbrick, would notice the communication error. Filbrick isn't in the habit of asking young boys about their feelings. Even if they did notice it, I don't think they would handle it well; this is before modern mental health science, and it might actively frighten the adults around him to realize that he doesn't understand morality in the way the kids around him do.
I think that if we start with this version of Ford, it would be very, very easy for him to screw up so badly that Filbrick felt the need to kick him out.
Some ways we can reduce Stan's influence
Option One: Stan might actually be worse off.
Usually, these reverse AUs are about Stan being the golden child and Ford being the one who Filbrick has it out for. However, that doesn't necessarily have to happen in order for Ford to be the one who gets kicked out. If Stan gets caught (or framed) for a crime big enough to send him to juvie for a while, or for Filbrick to send him off to a reform school, Ford would be left alone for years - long enough for Ford to develop the habits I just described.
This AU would fit really well with the themes of canon, too. The show is about how, even though family has its ups and downs, we're better together than we are apart. If Stan is separated from Ford against his will, and the rest of the Pines live to regret it, we address that theme head-on.
In an AU where Stan goes to boarding school, juvie, or something like that, I personally think Stan would still love Ford dearly and do his best to support him. Ford would do his best to make his own way in the world after his falling out with his father, and Stan meets up with him whenever he can. They have their own lives but remain friends.
Option Two: The ever-so-beloved Sports Stan option! If Stan ends up in a successful hobby, it might keep him out of trouble enough to curb his more dishonest tendencies. If that's the case, Ford's isolation comes from Stan having more friends (teammates!), more extracurricular responsibilities, and possibly the kind of social life that keeps him busy during school hours. I figure that in this version, Stan might stand up for Ford getting bullied, and he would be listened to, because you don't fuck with the football team. That would leave Ford with neither friends nor enemies. Ford might hang out with the sports kids for a while, but it would be really awkward, since he's just Stan's brother and doesn't have much in common with these guys.
This version leaves Stan slightly less delinquent but otherwise the same as his canon counterpart. Sports keep him out of trouble, might get him a scholarship, but otherwise leave him pretty much intact.
My problem with both of these two options is that I feel like, for maximum effect, we need to isolate Ford in middle school or earlier - I think fifth grade would do it. Sports don't really get that serious until late middle school or high school, and it's hard for a ten-year-old to get in enough trouble to get sent away.
The sooner the twins begin to separate, the better for this narrative.
Option three: Boy Scouts (or something). In this version, Stanley doesn't just have a hobby he likes - he has a hobby that becomes a lifestyle. He joins a club or meets a mentor that has a profound impact on him as a person. This, I think, would be the biggest possible impact with the smallest possible change.
I'm going to use Boy Scouts as my example, even though I can't really imagine Stan joining a troop without Ford. Just know that this is a placeholder, and it could be anything: he might find a car repair shop with a kindly and avuncular war veteran mechanic, he might fall in with a volunteer group, et cetera. If we go with the boy scouts, though, here's what happens:
Stan is bored and frustrated and has too much energy as a prepubescent or barely pubescent kid. He ends up hanging out with some boy scouts, and they do things that he thinks are really cool. They're the first kids he meets who like boats as much as him, and they know all the rigging knots. Maybe one of them tells him all about how to take care of lizards, and that other kid knows how to light a fire using a flint.
He convinces his parents to let him join the troop. At first, he doesn't fit in at all. All of the other kids have been doing this since first grade, and he's bad at making friends. However, one of the troopmasters becomes a mentor to him: this man intentionally gives him attention, spends time with him, asks him about his interests, teaches him skills that he's missing, et cetera.
If you've ever been or known a young kid who didn't get enough attention and then, suddenly, met someone who made them feel included, you know what happens.
Stan would sell his soul for this guy.
Stan memorizes his handbook, he attends all the functions, he mentors the cubs, the whole shebang. I think Stan would have a blast, too. Boyscouts make up bullshit to tell the little kids constantly. They play pranks on each other and the troopmasters. They haze the new kids. The develop complex internal mythologies for their troops. They get up to all manner of ridiculous shenanigans, oftentimes with the help of knives, ropes and fire. Stan would love it.
By high school, he's working hard toward his Eagle Scout badge, and that means he isn't just attending troop functions. For those who have never been scouts, the whole program is supposed to be about leadership training. The Eagle Scout status is one you earn by doing a project of your own - usually some small but tangible improvement to your hometown, such as building some benches or making an improvement to a museum. So, in the Sports Stan version of events, Stan is busy because of regularly scheduled team sports; in the Scouts Stan version, he's spending a huge chunk of his own free time planning, fundraising for, and building his project.
But there's another thing at play here.
Boy Scouts have a strict code of honor. If Stan was a gung-ho boy scout, he would probably become exactly the kind of person Filbrick wants him to be.
And, well,
I think he'd also become judgemental as hell.
Yeah, he still loves his brother, but here Stan is living his best life and being a good citizen who contributes to society, while Ford's out there... drawing pictures of ghost he insists he saw? Reading about mermaids? Catching the chemistry lab on fire?
Like, seriously bro, you need to get a real hobby.
You know how by the end of high school, Ford was treating Stan as an immature and ignorant kid with no real aspirations who wasn't going to amount to anything in life? You know how Ford was so sickened by Stan's relative lack of ambition that he really believed that Stan would deliberately sabotage his science fair experiment just for a chance to hang out more?
Yeah.
Now imagine that reversed.
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besiegedhunter · 2 days
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Siracusa, Zaaro and Authority.
It's Siracusa season once again! Fittingly I want to talk about the theme of authority within Il Siracusano's story, particularly how Zaaro embodies it, why it makes him the main boss of Il Siracusano and various characters relationship with authority. As well as where future events set in Siracusa, following the Signore dei Lupi, could take it.
A disclaimer though: I'm not a professional analysis writer, nor am I knowledgeable on this subject but I do want to talk about this nonetheless.
This post includes content from Terra: A Journey but without further ado:
Beast Lord
If you look at the Nations within Arknights, you can point out a specific aspect of that Nation as the major driving force for the stories taking place there. Whether it's the Seaborn in Iberia, Demons in Sami, Yan's Sui, Leithanien's Witch King. For Siracusa the first thought may be the mafia but with Zaaro being the main boss, accompanying Lappland going forwards and Red's story beginning at the end of Il Siracusano being purely about them, I'd say it's the Signore dei Lupi that are at the heart of Siracusa's story.
So what are the Signore dei Lupi? They're a group of Beast Lords, supernatural immortal animal spirits, and specifically the Lords of Wolves, inhabiting Siracusa's wilderness. They engage in a never ending game where each Signori trains one Lupo to be their Fang, their Assassin, and have them kill each other. The last Fang remaining's Signori then becomes the Packmaster and the cycle continues.
Zaaro is one of the Signore dei Lupi but I'll get back to him in a bit. Firstly I want to just state that of all the Nations in Arknights, Siracusa is the only Nation who revolves around the Beast Lords and appears to be where we're learning the most about them, through the Signore dei Lupi.
So, let's contextualize what a 'Beast Lord' exactly is and tie them to 'authority' because it seems obvious how they could, right? They are Lords, however to quote Lunacub's files and likely Kal'tsit:
"They sometimes call themselves the aristocrats of beasts, though they rule over nothing, that much I can guarantee."
And sure enough, if you look at the Beast Lords present in game they don't appear to rule over anything particularly. But I want to offer two theories. The first I want to say is likely possible for all the Beast Lords but we've only seen illustrated by the Signore dei Lupi and it comes from this passage in IS-10 just before Zaaro's bossfight:
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In it Zaaro exerts his 'authority' over the cast of Il Siracusano. All the named characters present are Lupos, so it's likely something that the Beast Lords can do to anything considered 'kin' with them.
The second is illustrated in Terra: A Journey:
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The Signore dei Lupi led to an unnaturally high amount of wolf packs in Siracusa's wilderness, implying that the Beast Lords have a part to play within the ecosystem and subsequently that because to my knowledge, Siracusa is the only Nation to have such an irregular Ecosystem via the Beast Lords, the Signori are doing something wrong.
So, authority is inherent to the Signore dei Lupi per being Beast Lords and regarding the ecosystem and Lupos it could be said that they've been taking their authority for granted and abusing it.
Now look at Siracusa. It revolves around family beliefs, whether that's an actual family or a business, a school, etc. It's emphasized by Siracusa's main race being Lupos and it's the same for the Signori being Wolves.
And as the Signori mirror the family beliefs of Siracusa, the authority that the Signori represent and which they abuse is also shared about those family systems within Siracusa. It's all in the components of Siracusa, how it's the one nation to look at the Beast Lords, to delve into their authority, Siracusa is commentating on how authority is wielded within these systems.
Now, to narrow it down to Zaaro and Il Siracusano. He embodies authority in the context of the event. Not just as a Beast Lord but by integrating himself into the Bellone Family and desire to wield the 'Power' of a mafia to attain his goals, he embodies it even more than any other Beast Lord.
And the relationships he has with different characters reflect this.
Vigil
It was his Azione Solo which inspired me to think about Zaaro through this lens with these lines from his Azione Solo:
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If you look at Vigil, his entire story is about how he's influenced by different people. Whether it's Penance whose influence is deemed bad by Demetri, who he himself tries superseding his methods and telling him what is best for his family or his Dad who leaves him out of his plans, decides what he should do and expects him to be just a pawn in his plans.
Zaaro, the embodiment of authority, is this unavoidable truth for Vigil that he and everyone are just pawns for people like Bernado, Alberto or Sicily. His story goes on to have him make his own choices and resolve the situation with his own methods. He walks a different path from Demetri, stands up to his Father, faces down Sicily and withstands Zaaro trying to exert his authority over him.
It's a similar story for other characters. Rubio defies the authority that the mafia has over Siracusa. As a result, Penance who's been an enforcer of it's authority through the law gathered people to fight against it and Danbrown, who wanted free from the authority of the mafia, of his family in the Saluzzo famiglia, confronts Alberto.
Bernado himself as an interesting story. He saw how insignificant the mafia really was when he had left it and the city. He realized that the authority the mafia held over Siracusa was not as insurmountable as people thought and put in his plan to destroy Siracusa's authority.
But to do it he becomes the utmost authority in Siracusa besides Signora Sicily. He uses the mafia but at the same time he uses Zaaro, because they represent the same thing. And in the end, when he pulls off his plan to destroy the mafia, he takes his own life as well, betraying Zaaro and destroying any chance that he could win the Signori's plan.
He might've been an authority figure to Vigil and Demetri and everyone in Siracusa and abused that authority but he hated this authority all the same. For Zaaro, this embodiment of authority, he was his greatest pawn and he wanted nothing more than to spite him and the mafia all the same.
It's for these reasons that Bernado isn't the final boss, because he, like everyone, was a puppet of the authority of Siracusa that is the mafia. But as much as he and Lappland, want to destroy it, it's not really something you can destroy. But Zaaro embodies the same authority and he can be stood against and fought, even if he is invincible himself.
Emperor
So as stated, if Zaaro and Beast Lords represent authority and in Siracusa and Il Siracusano especially, what does that mean for Emperor as a Beast Lord himself?
Well, as this was the first event we see Emperor interacting with other Beast Lords and where Beast Lords as a concept was introduced, we get a lot of contextualization actually for him, in part from the characterization of the Signori:
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The Signori are characterized as being extremely prideful in their "purpose" of creating a Packmaster through their game and here they project that same duty onto Emperor, believing him to have left his purpose behind.
But really this is a bad argument from the Signori. They let Siracusa's ecosystem fall into disarray, they made their game up so it's not their duty and as that last image shows: they're tiring of the game.
It can be argued though that this is the point: the Signori uphold this game, conflating it with duty when it's just to give them the feeling of being rulers when it's purely something they constructed themselves. That people in positions of power disguise their ego and desire as duty.
But I think there is an element of truth in what they say about Emperor. A Beast Lord's territory lets say would be important and leaving it is putting one's identity behind. His path from the Tundra, to Leithanien, to Columbia and wherever else, appears to be him looking for his place in the world.
And it's here when the real contrast between Zaaro and Emperor begin, with the introduction of Texas.
As stated, Zaaro embodies the authority of Siracusa. The Signori as a whole represent the family values and violence. They are manifestations of Siracusa or rather Siracusa formed in their image, forming their beliefs on the Signori.
And Texas's story is about how she grew up, being instilled with all the violence and abuse of Siracusa. She grew tired and resentful of it, tried to get away but she is Siracusan, no matter how much she tries to ignore that fact.
When Zaaro appears in the beginning of the event, he represents everything that she tries to ignore about herself as he is Siracusa made flesh. Everything that we see happen when Texas is brought back to Siracusa is just illustrating what this beast named Zaaro is. What this beast named Siracusa is.
But when Zaaro got Texas out of Siracusa after her family's fall, she left to Columbia and it was there that Emperor found her, alone, having lost everything. Emperor saw this and he devoted everything to giving her a place she belonged, like what he was searching for. He created Penguin Logistics, a place she could work and live and he hired all the PenLog members who'd end up as her friends.
If Zaaro is the abusive home that she left but had created her, then Emperor is the healthy home environment and while her boss, Emperor has only ever wanted the best for her unlike Zaaro who only saw a pawn.
This is the point of Zaaro and Emperor's relationship, this contrast on the sort of home Texas has. It's why she doesn't have an Bernado or Alberto in her story, because this takes it's place.
And it gives more meaning to Zaaro being the final boss for her event. For while Rubio's speech made her realize that Siracusa has a chance, that the authority that is the mafia, that is Zaaro is strong, it can still be defied. Why like Vigil and Penance, who've been affected by Bernado and the very systems of Siracusa, she joins to fight against the authority that is Zaaro.
But it's not them who beats Zaaro in the end. It's Emperor who was this Beast Lord like him but who gave Texas a healthy home that stopped Zaaro, the embodiment of Siracusa's abuse and abusive authority in the end.
And as we know, Texas does not stay in Siracusa. She's not Nearl of Gavial who go to their homes to continue making a change. She is as much a member of PenLog as she ever was and throughout the event her friends have been helping and supporting her.
And I find it interesting that he's with the other Signore dei Lupi. They're just there to remind Zaaro that he's lost and his vengeance is pointless. They don't care for the symbolism of Il Siracusano's cast fighting against him or Emperor stepping in.
And yet, Zaaro's actions were born from him growing tired of the game. Agnese, Lunacub's Signori, is trying to leave despite still being in the running because she tires and she looks to Emperor as a role model. She's the one who states that the Signori laugh at him but she herself understands his actions.
She wants to do for Lunacub as Emperor has for Texas. She's not the good Signori however. She isolated Lunacub from society to train her to kill. She harmed her. But she's looking to Emperor's example and taking responsibility for her harm to provide Lunacub a happier, healthier life.
And as Texas's file says: "At the same time, the game that the Signori dei Lupi have played for many years has come to the surface. This round is coming to an end, and the impact it will have on Siracusa is yet unknown."
The Signori must change and at least in this moment the Signori stand beside Emperor who represents a healthy home, against Zaaro who represents what they as the Signori represent.
But the thing is, I don't think that Zaaro is going to always embody the abuse of Siracusa. He might continue representing Siracusa but he's changing as well.
Lappland
We'll put a pin in that thought just for now because we don't follow Zaaro's story, we follow our Operators and as Il Siracusano came to and end we see that while we'll be seeing Zaaro's story continue, it'll be from Lappland's point of view. So what's her situation?
If most of the characters in the story are building up to their rebellion against Siracusa and it's authority, Lappland was already there. Her story goes that when she was little she disliked how she was being raised to be the new head of the Saluzzo family and her Father, Alberto, didn't show her any love and so she rebels against him.
Alberto outside of Zaaro is perhaps the most obvious authority figure who abuses his power, moreso honestly. His relationship with Lappland demonstrates it the most as he doesn't just neglect her but physically abuses her and her Azione Solo demonstrates how he destroys what brings Lappland happiness and how she felt caged by him.
She, like Texas, realizes that this treatment is at the heart of Siracusa. She calls herself the "perfect Siracusan" because of how violent and remorseless she is and her end goal of destroying Siracusa is clear recognition of the abuse Siracusa has and her answer to it.
But at the same time, when she loses to Texas during the Texas family purge and watches her leave Siracusa her worldview is tested. She thought Siracusa a swamp that was inescapable but Texas left and it goes well with Texas's own feelings. As said: Texas ignores and does not accept that she is Siracusan. Lappland fully embraces her Siracusan side, event when Alberto kicks her out, and she wants solely for Texas to return, to face her Siracusan side and prove that a Siracusan is everything that she is, that Zaaro represents. That it's inescapable.
And when Texas returns, she's resigned to be Siracusan but that's not where her story goes. After Giovanna's assassination attempt and the Rossati turning on her, when things look bleakest, Texas feels at her lowest and probably most resigned to the nature of Siracusa. But Rubio does his speech.
Texas realizes that Siracusa is everything that Zaaro represents, it is all this abuse of power, but that they can make a change and fight against that authority. It's in this moment that Texas proves Lappland wrong, that she is Siracusan and can accept it but she can be so without embracing it fully like Lappland and becoming like Zaaro.
She tells Lappland as such and it's turned on her. For as much as Lappland despises Siracusa and her Dad, she has been so defined by it that she embraced it. She remained as trapped as her Musbeast in her Azione Solo. Waiting to see if Texas could leave and she does. She proves that Lappland can't escape Siracusa but she doesn't need to let it define her or stay shackled to it.
And it's then that she faces her Dad, the biggest authority figure in her life and cuts ties with him. For as much as she has rebelled, she's never been able to accept that it's really possible to accept what Siracusa has done and strive forwards in spite of it. This is her first rebellion that meant something, that actually stood as a defiance against Siracusa and it's authority over her.
And so, while she's always been rebelling against Siracusa, against her Dad, against Sicily, this is the first one that truly mattered and it's why fighting Zaaro when she does isn't a repeat of all her past rebellions. It's only now that she can look at Siracusa and not see an insurmountable swamp but as something she can fight back against.
But as she says, she's going to destroy Siracusa. That's her goal. I think that it will be a more personal Siracusa to her, the Siracusa that created her as opposed to all of Siracusa but even still, she's not put her past behind and is moving forwards like the others.
She's still got to fight Siracusa, she's still got to walk alongside it for a bit longer, maybe even as Zaaro says and essentially for her whole life. And that's why she fights Zaaro again, fight Siracusa like she always had, but now she can walk alongside it in understanding of what it is. Siracusa doesn't control her anymore, it cannot destroy her.
And I think that in walking alongside Lappland that Zaaro is going to make some realizations himself about the nature of Siracusa and the Signore dei Lupi.
But that is it for Zaaro and mostly for Il Siracusano. We'll have to see where Lappland and Zaaro's stories go in the next Siracusa event but for now that is it. That is why there is so much meaning behind Zaaro's role in Il Siracusano, what his bossfight means when on the surface he just wants to kill Vigil out of spite.
I could say that we'll learn more about Demetri's relationship with authority and Siracusa in the next event. Why the Bellone family was so important or the ways of Siracusa. I also think it's interesting how Signora Sicily shows no surprise, reverence or respect towards Zaaro because she has overcome Siracusa's authority of the mafia once and so what is Zaaro to her?
But instead I want to talk about another instance of the same 'authority' that Zaaro tried and failed to exert over the Il Siracusano cast.
Projekt Red
The 'authority' that Zaaro tires to exert over the cast in IS-10 is the exact same that phenomenon that causes Lupos to be afraid of Projekt Red. It actually makes Lappland's Trust 2 more interesting. In it she says that Red would certainly kill her in a fight but that she wants to fight her and is confused as to why.
As the core of it is authority, it's essentially "what if Lappland faced Zaaro's authority before she was ready?" she still wants to rebel but she's afraid of it. Perhaps afraid that it's pointless, she'd still be trapped, because Texas hadn't returned yet. All the cast of Siracusano was able to stand against Zaaro but besides Demetri maybe all of them had resolved themselves to fight Siracusa and the authorities over them.
But Red. It's difficult, even for myself as the self proclaimed expert on her, to say exactly what her story, themes and beliefs are. I believe though that it's possible that she ties into this theme of authority herself and not just because of her ability to exert her authority over Lupos.
Consider this:
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This shot is from the second concept trailer. Their story has been entwined since that long ago and if Red is supposed to be connected to 'authority',
Isn't it perfect that her arch nemesis is called 'Crownslayer' ?
And it does seem that their story could be following such beats. Red is almost certainly going to be proven the strongest of the Fangs as the only one besides an unnamed one left. Grandma is going to become the Packmaster and lead the Signore dei Lupi.
And Grandma... god... I feel that she could be the purest example of an abusive figure of authority. Moreso than Alberto. Certainly more than Zaaro.
I've talked about how Lunacub contrasts Red's situation and Agnese taking responsibility for the harm she's inflicted to Lunacub is one such way because Grandma would never. She is illustrated to be the most cruel Signori, teaching Red no useful skills outside of killing and Red's module shows how Grandma cares only for Red's use to her and how Red broke because of Grandma's upraising.
A lot of Red's problems, like her speech, education, cutting things close to her, can be followed right to Grandma. Red also has no recognized the harm that Grandma has inflicted upon her, choosing Grandma over Rhodes and even Kal'tsit couldn't help Red because of how deeply ingrained Grandma's indoctrination was.
Her story will follow Grandma's abuse of her and how she recognizes Grandma's abuse and gathers the strength to overcome her and it'll be interesting to see how she reacts to the sort of authority that Zaaro and her can exert because of Grandma's hold on her life and her facing her down like the Zaaro bossfight.
Likely we'll see her and maybe Crownslayer in the next Siracusa event so we'll see then.
I may have more thoughts but they're not rising to the surface at the moment so that is the post! I thank you for reading this far, I hope it was interesting and I'm excited to see what future Siracusa events add to it!
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lovesuhng · 9 hours
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favorite place
w.c: 1.2 fluff, friends to lovers
You were on the bus on your way to the university. You had studied all night for a very important exam you were about to take. The journey was long; you managed to doze off at times, but you were startled by the bus's movements and ended up waking up.
Arriving at the university, you thought about looking for Johnny, your best friend, but since you were late, you preferred to go directly to the classroom. The exam was about to start, and the professor asked everyone to turn off and put away their cell phones. You were about to do what was asked when you saw a message from Johnny.
"I know you're nervous, but try not to be too much! You did your best studying and, regardless of the result, don't be sad. Good luck :)"
You smiled and felt a warm feeling in your heart as you read the message. It was amazing how he could calm you in any situation, and that was one of the reasons you were even more in love with him. Yes, you had fallen into the cliché of falling in love with your best friend. You composed yourself to take the exam.
After leaving the exam, you were in the university courtyard, upset because the test hadn't gone so well, when you saw Johnny walking towards you. It was incredible how handsome he was. You just gave him a weak smile.
"Looks like the exam didn't go so well."
"My face says it all, doesn't it?" You couldn't hide very well when you were upset about something.
"A little bit." You gave an awkward laugh and at that moment, Johnny had an idea. He couldn't let his best friend be so sad. "Follow me."
"What? Don't you have more classes today?"
"I only have one more, but I won't leave you like this. I'm going to take you to a place I really like."
Some time later, you were already in Johnny's car. He hadn't told you where you were going, but he was the person you trusted the most and you were happy that your friend was doing something to distract you.
You could already see the beach and just turned to Johnny, who was smiling. "I told you I'd take you to a place I really like."
As you got out of the car, Johnny was already running across the sand with his arms open. As soon as you saw him running, you pulled out your phone and started recording some videos of him and then took a few photos. Noticing this, Johnny started posing for the photos, making you laugh sincerely. It was amazing how he had this power to make you happier without even realizing it.
After a while, Johnny helped you climb the rocks on the beach. It was a perfect place to watch the sun beginning to set.
"This is amazing!" you said, marveling at the scenery in front of you.
"Yeah. I always wanted to bring you here, but I think this is the right time. This is the place I come to when I want to think, cheer up or just do nothing. This place calms me down." You gave a small smile, happy that Johnny was sharing that with you. "Don't you have a place that calms you?"
You made a thoughtful face. You were still looking at the setting sun and just responded with what came to your mind. "Well, I don't have a place. The only thing that really calms me down is you." Johnny wasn't expecting that answer; he just looked at you, who were still gazing at the horizon. "You always find a way to make me smile or feel comfortable. It seems like you always know when I'm a bit messed up and say something that makes my day a thousand times better. Sometimes, you don't even need to say or do anything; just your eyes bring me an inexplicable peace. They are my favorite thing in the world." After a shy laugh, you looked to the side. You didn't imagine Johnny would be looking at you so intently and so closely. He took off his sunglasses to look into your eyes, reminding you how much you were in love with them and the man in front of you. In all those years of friendship, Johnny had never heard such beautiful things and that only confirmed what he had felt for a long time. You were about to look away and try to change the subject when you felt Johnny's lips on yours. It was a quick peck but enough for both of you to feel a pleasant warmth in your hearts.
Johnny pulled away to look at you and saw that you were still looking at him without showing any reaction. I shouldn't have done that! She will hate me. That was all he thought.
"I shouldn't have done that! It's just that... I don't know, I'm sorry-" This time, Johnny was the one surprised by your lips. And it wasn't a simple peck; it was a kiss full of complicity and with the feeling that it should have happened a long time ago. Everything fit and made sense for both of you, who were surprised by the chemistry you had.
The kiss ended, you still kept your eyes closed and your forehead touching Johnny's. You were afraid to open your eyes and find that it was all a dream and just said "Please, don't apologize or regret what just happened."
Johnny pulled away a little and your heart tightened for a second. "Please, look at me." Even with fear, you opened your eyes and saw Johnny smiling. He caressed your cheek. "How could I regret something I liked and wanted to do for so long?"
Night had fallen and you were already in the car heading home. You were looking out the window when you felt Johnny hold and caress your hand while driving. You smiled, which Johnny noticed, making him even happier. Finally, you arrived at the building where you lived. You didn't really know what to do or how to say goodbye. "Thank you for today. It was wonderful."
"It was the least I could do."
"So... I better go inside. Bye, John." When you made a move to get out of the car, Johnny held your hand and gave you a confused look.
"After everything that happened today, do you think you're just going to leave like that?"
You just smiled, understanding what he meant and simply joined your lips to his. As you kissed, Johnny smiled. He could swear he would burst with happiness for kissing the woman he loved so much. The air began to run out and you both separated.
"Will we get used to this?" you commented.
"Well... if you like me as much as I like you, I'm sure we will. But I think I need another kiss to confirm that."
You laughed, throwing your head back at what he had just said. "Here's the deal: let's go to my apartment, order something to eat, and if you finally agree to watch High School Musical with me, then I'll think about whether you deserve another kiss... maybe two or even three."
"High School Musical? I think I can make that effort for you." Johnny stole a quick kiss from you and got out of the car, leaving you with a goofy smile on your face and thinking about how happy you were to finally discover that your first love was reciprocated.
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