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mrpenguinpants · 3 years

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Xiao and Diluc: Opposites Attract HCs

Minor spoilers for Xiao’s and Diluc’s backstory.

Yes, more xiao content. Oh and Diluc. Diluc is there too. I wonder who my favourite child is? Honestly, it’s probably Childe. Every time I write “child” I end up misspelling it to “childe”. It’s consumed me. But yes anon I love the opposites attract trope. It’s so nice having person A be this cute cinnamon roll and person B is the ew don’t touch me go away I hate you, just mwah 💕

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Today’s appreciation post goes to imlikemoony. My entire reblog notifications have just been you and thanks for the spam haha. I love seeing new people go through my work and enjoy it so thank you^^ Please don’t feel like this is a callout post I swear it isn’t 💕💕

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Xiao Semi Series

[ Friendship ] [ Falling in Love ] [ Cuddles ] [ Protective ] [ Affection ] [ Jealously ]

Diluc HCs

[ Comfort HCs ] [ Relationship HCs ] [ Being Fathers HCs ] [ Jealously HCs ] [ Unrequited Love HCs ] [ String of Fate [Soulmate] ] [ Fainting ]

[Masterlist]

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[taglist] <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji @mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @twistedsunnshiii @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @youaskedfurret @snowy224 @mayumintsu @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki @legionqueensav

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Xiao and Diluc: Opposites Attract HCs

Xiao

It occurs to Xiao one day that despite being alive for centuries, he doesn’t know a lot of people. Xiao has only known Rex Lapis and his fellow adepti and only just recently introduced this life to others such as Verr and Ming. It never bothered him and still doesn’t, he prefers his life to be peaceful and in solitude since it’s safer that way, but when you crash into his life with all your unrestrained energy. He’s a bit of a loss for words. The only other person he knows that acts similar is Guizhong, but it’s still a bit of a troubling memory but either then that, he’s never interacted with someone so...open with their feelings. Though he supposes that Hu Tao was somewhat similar but in a different way. Unlike the craziness and exasperated actions that Hu Tao brought, your presence was a breath of fresh air and sometimes he found himself caught up in your antics.

When Xiao thinks about it, if he were to ever find love he suspected he would prefer someone who was calm and independent. He wasn’t the most affectionate so he wouldn’t want a partner that relied on that and he liked the peace and quiet the inn provided. That was until he saved you one day and you felt it was your absolute responsibility to return the favour, even though he told you many times that you really did not need to. If you wanted to return the favour you could leave him alone. Simple as that. Which didn’t work and in hindsight he was glad you were so stubborn to hang around until you managed to find out his favourite food was almond tofu.

The moment that set in stone Xiao’s love for you is when he told you his past. When he was named Atalus. How he had been possessed and forced to kill against his will. How he devoured dreams and lived in agony before he was saved by Rex Lapis. He was scared that you would fear and leave him, only for you to slowly lace your hands with his and wept for his own misfortune. He’s never had someone cry for him and he realized that he never wanted to see you upset like this again.

At first your larger than life personality put him off a bit, how could someone run through life as if nothing was wrong? What would happen if you finally faced loss? Wouldn’t that make things worse? It wasn’t until he spent more time with you that he saw your point of view, that while he couldn’t adopt the same idea, he respected it and began to appreciate it. It was nice having some sort of solace in his day even if it was just for a few minutes. Something to get his mind of the darker things while you start chatting about this really nice old lady with a domain sized teapot.

Though, there was a bit of a downside to this. Since you bared your heart on your sleeve, perhaps in Mondstadt it would seem normal but here in Liyue, everyone hid behind some kind of mask so people found you a bit naïve and would try and hassle you. It always sent Xiao into a worried state when you left the inn to go out on your next adventure. Verr likes to compare him to a cat waiting for it’s owner at the door, but as soon as they return he acts so moody as if he wasn’t waiting at the balcony trying to see if he could see your clothing peak over the hill. He has no idea how she comes up with these ridiculous ideas.

Another “downside” Xiao discovers is that you have mini bursts of affection. You describe it as a those anemo slimes that pop when you shoot them, morbid as that description is, you’re not wrong. Your bursts of affection always manage to startle and embarrass Xiao, especially when he was with others. He wasn’t going to tell you to change yourself, never will he do that, but when you clasp his hands and tell him with all your love and shining eyes that he’s “doing such a good job” and “you’re so proud of him”. He wants to melt because wow, he never noticed how much he values your praise and how it sends his heart flying. But he can’t because Childe and Zhongli are right there.

Zhongli smiles pleasantly while Childe looses his absolute shit, which causes Xiao to kick his spear at Childe because he refuses to let go of your hands and hisses at him. Even when you try and scold him it doesn’t last long because this has become a weekly occurrence. Only now Xiao will give you a quick kiss before he goes off to gut Childe while you and Zhongli wave pleasantly and talk about how the weather is faring. Everyone that isn’t a native to Liyue think’s you’re all insane as they hear Childe’s screams as Xiao attempts first degree murder.

It interesting to see you both interact to outsiders. Xiao has his piercing yellow eyes and reserved demeanor while you’re this sweet and bright person. Before Xiao met you, people could never get a good look at the mysterious man that stays in the top balcony of the Wangshu Inn. But now if they came at the right time, they could spot a soft smiled man in green listening to a very animated talk with someone else, using their hands with a dramatic flair. That is until the man notices them trying to eavesdrop and the softness in his eyes drops and goes to irritation as he glares at them, curling a hand around his partner’s waist, and he let’s off a warning growl. His partner never seems bothered, only turning around to give a small wave in greeting, smiling as if the dangerous aura radiating behind them didn’t exist, before giving the man a small kiss as they go back to their conversation.

While you live a larger than life way, you also enjoy the small moments with Xiao. Xiao prefers to spend his time sitting above the inn and overlooking Liyue which you enjoy too. Resting near each other as you watch the sun go down is calming and takes the stress of life away. But sometimes you just want to bring Xiao out and have some fun.

Which ends up with you dragging him off to the pond near the Wangshuu inn, you wanted to catch frogs for whatever reason. Weren’t you both a bit too old to be playing with frogs? But he stands by and watch's you chase around the poor animals, tracking mud all over your clothing and skin, he can’t help but let a small smile slip. It isn’t until you end up falling into the pond after slipping that he’s on alert mode that he runs over worried.

Only for you to pop up and start bursting out into laughter. Xiao is stunned for a few moment as he watches you laugh at your own mistake, mud scrapped all over your face and clothes, the fact that you’re still in the pond with a frog on your head. He can’t help but feel his face fall as his mouth twitches into a smile as he chuckles along with you. He reaches over to try and scrub the dirt off your face but it only ends up smearing it more but you appreciate the effort. He carefully lifts you up as he carries you back to the inn. He thinks back to when you both first met, how he spent so much time worrying over his life as an adeptis and you as a human, but now those thoughts have been flung out of his mind. He wants to take your approach, that why worry over the little details of the future when you can enjoy the bigger moments you have now.

Diluc

On days that Diluc works as the bartender for Angel Share, if you come at just the right time when the sun was still high in the sky, you might be able to catch the ever distant man smiling and engaged with a conversation with one specific patron. Of course, this silly “rumour” was made up by the ladies of Mondstadt with too much free time on their hands but given Diluc’s reputation and demeanor it did make some travelers curious. Only for them to write it off as this special patron to be a green bard or cunning captain. One that Diluc surely did not crack a smile at. In fact it seemed to be the opposite. But the tavern isn’t so bad, there’s this nice individual that will listen to all your sorrows with kind eyes and a gentle heart.

As soon as the last customer leaves and Diluc locks the door, does he let his shoulder drop and he breathes a sigh of relief. Before turning and walking to you as he let’s himself relax in your embrace. He listens as you re-tell on the woes of a jewelry saleswoman from Liyue to how Venti is still getting ID checked at the Cat’s Tail as he basks in your warmth. He’s glad that this is what’s troubling the people of Mondstadt and not anything incredibly dangerous relating to the Fatui or the Abyss Order. He asks if you’re doing alright to which you grin and nod that everything was perfect, before placing a small kiss on your forehead and he leads you out back and into the night and ready to return home.

Kaeya finds a lot of enjoyment going to up to you and discussing his “concerns” about Diluc. It always leads to you fretting over his health and if he was working too hard and he should take a break. Diluc is whipped and cannot say no to you so he always begrudgingly let’s you lead him away as Kaeya smiles and waves him off. It’s gotten to the point that no matter what Diluc is in the middle of, unless it’s of the upmost importance, if he catches Kaeya anywhere near you he’s swooping in and leading you away.

Diluc has always been straight to the point, non-nonsense idle talk, but when you drag him away to simply lie down at Starsnatch Cliff just because you were worried about him, he can’t help but feel his heart warm. Watching you blow on dandelions and enjoy the peaceful winds of Mondstadt does he let his hectic life standstill.

When Diluc first met you, it was during his three year long journey to discover the truth of his father and the Delusions. You had saved him during his escape from a Fatui stronghold and explained you were apart of a third-party observer from the North. A vast underground intelligence network that approved of his actions and wanted him to join. Diluc, still deep in his anger and untrustworthy state of anyone, declined the offer but you still hanged around him. He didn’t understand why, and frankly did not want you anywhere near him, but you did save him. Something you very much liked to bring up, even after returning to Mondstadt. He couldn’t necessarily push you away and despite leaving the Knights of Favonius, he still maintained the same chivalry that all knights had.

From then on it had just been the two of you, him looking for the next Fatui base while you travelled with him as an “observer” despite helping him and being overly chatty. Asking where the next destination is like you’re some sort of overeager kid. At first, he really disliked your presence. A lot. In his mind you were a second Kaeya and after the events of what had happened, he might have been far colder to you than he should have been. He thought you were hiding behind the same kind of mask Kaeya did and that you were secretly some Fatui agent sent to kill him. But that never seemed to deter you, even making fun of the idea that the Fatui would seriously try and send an agent to con him rather than try and kill him outright with all the information he had on them.

You both had your clashes when it came to certain things, especially when it came to taking breaks and sightseeing. He felt that you were way too relaxed for something so important and you felt he was way to uptight and needed to stop running through life. But overtime, he found that he actually somewhat enjoyed your personality and quirks. While you could kick a Fatui’s guard head off if you tried hard enough, you would also drag him to feed the ducks by a pond. He had come to learn that you and Kaeya were different, you didn’t wear a mask and bared your heart to the world. He thought you were a bit foolish for doing that since you can never really trust anyone but you instead offered that not everyone was a bad person, that if he spent every waking moment trying to backstab someone would that really be a life worth living?

It’s during the lantern festival in Liyue does he really come to understand his goals in life. Writing down wishes for the new year to send off in paper lanterns is when he acknowledges his shortcomings and finally agrees to join the underground intelligence network. You offer him a bright grin as you cheer that he finally finally got off his stubborn self and you’re now officially partners in not-really-but-still-technically crime. For the first time since Diluc started his journey, he gives a small smile and let’s himself relax as he watched the golden lanterns fly through the sky beside you.

When he decides it’s time to return to Mondstadt and take up his position as Diluc Ragnvindr, he tries to not so subtly ask if you would want to join him. He knows that you still have ties to that secret organization and you probably have your own agenda but Diluc has gotten used to your bubbly personality, he doesn’t want to live without you. But his worries are quickly squashed when you tease him for a bit but slip your hand in his and ask where the next destination is.

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Gripping my writing hand, I went overboard and ran with it. I really want to write pre-hcs of how you met Xiao and a continuation of young Diluc and you. But I must finish my inbox. Also my joke of Xiao beating things into submission started all the way back to my first Xiao HCs of friendship. I did not know this lol. I just think it’s funny to imagine xiao doing it. I’m about to high five my past self.

By the way, should I break up my hcs more? I feel like they are actual paragraphs and that might be annoying to read.

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purekesseltrash · 3 years

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Chapter 12 of Bury Them Deep, the final chapter, is out!

Fave Excerpt:

Mezou jammed his hands inside of his coat pockets, unsure of what to say or even do besides grin like an idiot. Tokoyami came to a stop finally and stared at Mezou, mouth open as if he was about to speak. He gaped for a moment more before a distinctly annoyed look came across his features. “Fuck,” he hissed, “I had a whole speech that I was thinking up on the way here and suddenly I have found my mind to be a blank slate.”

Mezou laughed, unable to help himself, “I don’t need speeches.”

Tokoyami stepped forward to grab at Mezou’s coat, his grip firm and his face honest, “You deserve them. I fear I am an incurable romantic and this is simply how I function. But my words have fled like cowards and the only part of the speech that I can remember is this, but it is the important part. Let me take you on a date. A real one.”

“I’d like that,” Mezou said softly.

Fun Facts:

- Hand to god, I had not decided on names for all of Shouji’s siblings until I had to write them. Thank you, Japanese Name Generator. Though Makoto is another Sailor Moon reference. I also had not know that Shouji’s mom was where he got his artistic eye from, though I am glad for it.

- My favorite Hip song is ‘Lake Fever’ or ‘Scared’. I thought that the lyric in Lake Fever was ‘You whispered Courage’ for the longest time, legitimately until I checked the lyrics to write the pivotal fucking scene only to find out that no, it was ‘hurry’. It all worked out, thank GOD.

- IDK if anyone noticed, but I ship them as Tokoshouji, as opposed to Shoutoko. I like the idea of Tokoyami being one taking the initiative better and it seems to fit his character anyway. I don’t see this dynamic often and it drives me nuts because I could write an ESSAY on why it works so well. Idk.

- Not even gonna lie, the last Mic segment made me cry. It was like my final good bye to everyone reading, it’s personal. And it’s basically me peeking out there, as opposed to just Mic. For all of hockey’s shitty aspects, it’s the best game in the world. I love it and I want it to be good and I will do what I can to make it be good.

More stuff under the read more about my future plans with this universe:

- So I have written a chapter and a half of an Erasermic prequel, basically telling the story of what happened when Shouta retired and ended up drugged to the gills and numb to the world at Hizashi’s doorstep, despite the two of them not having seen each other in legitimately over 10 years.

- I also have a side story of Kirishima and Bakugou, both with an idea of how they got together as well as what happens to them when they get to the NHL. (Spoilers: Kirishima does not have a good time as the first out and gay NHLer. He basically gets buried in the minors despite being legitimately good. Eventually he finally quits hockey way too young. Bakugou meanwhile is a generational talent and is legit too good to bury in the minors. When Kirishima retires, Bakugou flies to Tokoyami and Shouji’s house, where Kirishima is licking his wounds, and is like ‘Marry me.’ Kirishima tells him that he’s only going to say yes if Bakugou proposes with a Cup ring and Bakugou is like ‘Bet’.

- I also have one in mind on Ojiro and Shinsou. They had an amicable breakup when they graduated, both understanding that the life of a hockey wife wasn’t gonna work for Ojiro. Ojiro went on to meet a super cool alt girl through the info sec community and they got married and had a daughter. They end up splitting up amicably when their daughter is around 7 and split custody without much of an issue. Ojiro works remotely and lives in what is basically a lake cabin up in northern Minnesota. He and Shinsou have kept in touch and when Shinsou finally retires, he comes to visit Ojiro. The fic would go over them meeting up again.

- And then, of course, there’s Shouji and Tokoyami.

They get their shitty apartment in Atlanta. Kenta helps them with the deposit and also goes with Shouji as he tries to find one. Shouji ends up getting taken on by Orca, a buddy of Loder’s who generally doesn’t take Midwestern farm boys on as apprentices but he makes an exception, despite the fact that his work very afro centric. Shouji is a nice guy though and a damned hard worker and has a good eye so Orca keeps him on for a long while. Shouji still ends up picking up a bunch of odd jobs here and there, mostly grunt work like putting up drywall, but it gets him and Tokoyami through the absolute agony that is legal school.

Tokoyami goes into intellectual property law. He knows how much work goes in to art and creative stuff and he wants to protect people like Shouji. He ends up making a pretty nice living and they’re able to pay off the credit card debt that they accumulated during Tokoyami going through law school. Shouji actually starts doing pretty well for himself too, mostly with his pottery but still with some sculpture. Eventually Tokoyami proposes that they move to Raleigh, both because it makes sense for both of them and their jobs and well... because they have a hockey team.

Shouji never gave up hockey. He had some years right after college where he did struggle to even look at his gear. He had told his parents that he was gay and not going to the NHL over the phone as they were planning to come to his graduation, because he just couldn’t take them wasting money when he knew that they would never want to talk to him again. Unfortunately, he was right. Kenta still came to his graduation though and had two bullhorns that he slammed the entire time that Shouji was accepting his diploma. He even brought Shouji his own pride flag and insisted on taking a picture with him holding it. He posted the picture on his facebook with a very bold pronouncement that he was very proud of the first Shouji to get a college degree and how anyone that had a problem with his little brother could take it up with Kenta. Still, Shouji went through some real mourning with the loss of his family and he took a small break.

But then he came back to it, once they started to get a little extra spending money. He found a beer league group in Atlanta and started to really get back into the game, researching ways to improve in his downtime. It got a little weird sometimes at the beer league games because sometimes Shouji would forget that he’d decided to wear eyeshadow or would forget that he had on entirely wrong undergarments but everyone accepts that goalies are weird so it was accepted. Eventually he ends up having people ask him to coach for their kids, which he is loathe to do until Tokoyami points out that it’s better than Shouji do it, as someone who knows how damaging expectations and pressure can be, than anyone else. So that becomes a little part time job of his.

Everything isn’t perfect for Shouji and Tokoyami. Nothing is perfect. Tokoyami is a borderline hoarder and Shouji can’t stand mess and that causes them to fight enough that they wisely seek counselling. But they’re happy. Tokoyami eases up on the goth stuff and accepts his accent a bit more, though he still dresses in dark colors, especially for court. Shouji actually gets to play around a little with the whole genderqueer thing and makes up for the time that he spent avoiding anything that would make him seem too gay. And they still work really well together, becoming the pair that everyone from college kind of groans at, because they’re so ridiculously in love, but also envies.

They get season tickets to the Carolina Hurricaines. You’ll see them with Tokoyami in a Devils jersey and Shouji with one of many from his massive collection. Tokoyami will make comments here and there during the game, showing that he does actually listen when Shouji talks about goalie stuff and they only ever miss a game for gallery openings or work events. Otherwise, they are there in their seats, holding hands and watching the game.

Feel free to ask me any questions! I’m more than happy to talk about this, if you couldn’t tell. (Also, I do have some half written smut so uh.... yeah.)

#btd #tokoshouji #shoutoko #shotoko #tokoshoji

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hotmesshapa · 3 years

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Hold On • Bang Chan

pairing: bang chan x reader

genre: some angst, a whole lotta fluff

word count: 1.6k

warnings: some strong language, descriptions of an anxiety attack

a/n: I started writing this at like 2am one night when I was in my chan feels, then homeboy played Michael Bublé during his last vlive and I took that as my sign to finish it lol. I also highkey recommend the song mentioned in this it totally didn’t make me cry while I was editing this noooo not at all 🖤

You pace back and forth in front of your front door, chewing on your bottom lip, occasionally checking the time on your phone as you impatiently wait for the mail to come. You try to distract yourself by scrolling through instagram and literally every other app you have, but your brain is too focused on one thing: an acceptance letter.

It’s a sunny but chilly Friday of what normally would be a regular week. This week, however, is the week universities send out their acceptance letters, and the first four days were complete agony of not hearing anything back. You had applied to one of the most prestigious graduate schools in the country, one that’s been around for hundreds of years and for some reason didn’t think it needed to upgrade its acceptance announcements with the current century. Honestly, you didn’t know people still sent actual letters anymore, but there’s something a bit comforting in receiving a physical copy of something that could be so important and life-changing to you. You had worked your ass off the day you started your courses in college, ultimately graduating two years ago with high honors and glowing recommendations from a few of your professors. Since then, you managed to score two internships in the film industry, all while working a part-time job and somehow not going completely insane. You did everything you could for a spot in that university’s graduate program, but despite everyone telling you that your acceptance is a sure thing, you still were insanely nervous.

To be honest, you don’t need to go to graduate school. Your bachelor’s degree and internships qualify you for any job you wanted in the industry, let alone your work ethic and resume you’ve built over the past two years. But you love learning, and this is the change to to meet new people and gain new experiences that you could only get from a graduate program. And sure, you didn’t need to apply to such a distinguished school, but the perfectionist inside you wanted the best of the best, and nearly all of your professors and friends encouraged you to apply, so how could you not?

After a few minutes of constant pacing, you check your phone again and let out a shaky breath, your nerves nowhere near being calmed. You sit yourself down in from of the door’s little mail slot and just stare.

“Baby,” Chan chuckles, watching you from the couch as he works on his laptop. “The mail isn’t gonna get here any faster if you stare at the door.”

“I know, but who knows, maybe the mailman will be able to sense my intense gaze from wherever he is and speed over.”

You hear your boyfriend rise from the couch and walk to where you’re planted, sitting behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. “You worked hard for this, Y/N, they’d be crazy not to accept you. I’m sure you got in.”

You hum in appreciation and lean back against chest, smiling as he tenderly kisses your temple. Chan, being the actual angel that he is, was one of the main reasons you had managed not to completely lose your shit throughout the entire application process and waiting period. You two know each other like the back of your hand; anytime one of you (mostly you) would get stressed out over something, the other would always be there to help. But for Chan, it’s like he has a sixth sense for knowing when you’re going through it, because he’d be by your side within an instant. He was, and still is, your voice of reason, your comfort, your everything.

He takes your hands in his, gently rubbing circles against your palms. “Don’t worry, I’m sure the letter will arrive any moment now.”

The two of you stare at the door for a few minutes, before you can’t help but check the time on your phone again, and you release a worried sigh, beginning to impatiently tap on the floor. As if he could read your mind, Chan pulls you tighter against his body and snuggles his face into the curve of your neck. “Just relax Y/N.”

Once you manage to calm your nerves down again, he slowly gets up, eliciting a small whimper from you from the loss of his warmth, which only gets you a chuckle in response. “I’m gonna make some hot chocolate, want any?”

“Yes please, with a lot-“

“Of marshmallows, I know,” he laughs as he makes his way to the kitchen.

You smile, resting your chin on your hand, and turn your attention back to the mail slot. You wait as patiently as you possibly can for another five minutes, before you hear a crash from the kitchen. “You okay?” you call out, not taking your eyes off the door.

“Yeah, I’m fine… Just wondering, where do you keep your broom?”

“Christopher Bang, what did you-“

At that exact moment, the mail slot opens and you’re greeted with piles of letters and papers falling into your lap. With shaky hands, you sort through the mail, tossing a couple bills, a magazine, and some weird catalog from a brand you’ve never even heard of aside before finally digging up the letter you’ve been waiting for. You can feel your heart beating out of your chest as you frantically try to rip it open without giving yourself a paper cut.

“Was that the mail? Did it come?” Chan calls out from the kitchen, but you’re too in your own head to put words together to form an answer.

You finally manage to open up the envelope, your hands trembling as you pull out the letter and slowly unfold it. All the words just seem to blur together, except the ones that catch your attention:

not accepted

In a matter of seconds, you feel yourself spiral. Your breathing begins to become more shallow and quicken, while your mind begins to race a million miles per second, trying to make of what you just read.

What are you gonna do now?

All that work, for what, nothing?

Did you do something wrong?

Is there something wrong with you?

Are you just not good enough?

A tear falls on the paper you’re holding, smearing the ink stating your failure, but you didn’t even realize you were crying until then. You furiously wipe them away with the back of your hand, but no matter what you do, tears just keep falling, and you can feel yourself beginning to hyperventilate, you whole body trembling. You know this isn’t the end of the world, but then why did it feel like it is?

“Y/N? Did you hear-“

You turn to your boyfriend, and the look on your face must have said it all, because the next thing you know, Chan is engulfing you in a warm hug, stroking your hair as you start to sob into his chest. “Hey, everything’s going to be okay. Y/N, please listen to me. Everything’s going to be okay. We’ll figure something out.” He kisses the top of your head and continues to let you cry as he hugs you close.

It seems like eternity, but you manage to calm yourself down a bit, clinging to Chan’s hoodie while listening to his steady heartbeat, and you finally bring yourself to look up at him. “I just… I just really thought I was gonna get in,” you say quietly, your eyes welling up again.

He gingerly wipes away the tears from your cheeks and offers you a sympathetic smile. “I know, baby, I know. I’m so sorry.” He pulls you back into a hug, rubbing your back to help ease the knots that had build up there from the stress. “Fuck them,” he mumbles against your hair. “It’s their loss for not choosing one of the smartest and hardest working people on this planet.”

You let out a weak laugh in response, grateful for his attempt to crack some jokes to ease the tension. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, closing you eyes to try to get rid of the stress that lingered in your head.

“I have an idea,” Chan suddenly says, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen in the room. He gently pulls away from you, and you watch in confusion as he makes his way across the living room, taking his phone out from his pocket and placing it on the coffee table.

The next thing you know, Michael Bublé’s “Hold On” fills the room, and a small smile forms on your lips as Chan turns to you, offering his hand. You take it, and he pulls up from where you’re seated and close to his strong body, putting his hands on your waist as your arms instinctively wrap around his neck. Slowly, the two of you begin to sway to the music, and you feel any remaining sadness and tension drain from your body as you dance with your boyfriend, and your smile begins to grow.

“So hold on to me tight, hold on, I promise it will be alright,” Chan’s smooth voice sings along with the music, and he’s looking at you with so much adoration, you can feel your heart swell. “Cause it’s you and me together, and baby all we’ve got is time. So hold on to me, hold on to me tonight,” he continues to serenade you, and you can’t help but giggle, causing him to start giggling as well.

You rest your head on his shoulder, releasing a sigh in content as he presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “I love you Chan.”

“I love you too.”

#bang chan fluff #bang chan imagines #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids fanfiction #kpop fluff #kpop imagines #bang chan #stray kids

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etirabys · 4 years

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The solution to “the lesbians I read about aren’t horrible enough” is, of course, to roll your own. Here’s what I’ve been dreaming up recently (warning: this story idea was simply formed by throwing together every lesbian fiction nutrient I currently feel deprived of, I have not designed it to be ‘good’ at all):

Frances Hareva is a military strategist for the ruling planet of an interplanetary civilization, Mars Delta. Actually, she’s not the military strategist – Zlanna is. Zlanna is the AI who takes input from a massive interplanetary surveillance network and provides most of the brainpower for the job. But the values and core decisionmaking is provided by a human hooked up to Zlanna, who is constantly trained for alignment with the collective will of her planet. Some three years into this extremely demanding job that's damaging her brain in certain ways, Frances orders a hit on a ruling family of a rebellious colony planet, Ftam Quedir. She leaves alive the adoptive daughter, Safi.

Safi is a product of heavy genetic engineering, and Frances predicts she will become an influential moderate representative of pro-gene-engineering, an ethical and material issue that's promising to be divisive enough to lead to interplanetary war. Frances has had very little meaningful human contact for several years, and while doing a job that involves spying on millions of people, some of the people she watches have drifted into the friend-shaped hole. Something that is not quite apparent to her superiors, or to Frances herself until she recommends/orders the assassination, is that she’s become very fond of Safi while surveilling the Quediram clan, and has clouded judgment about her.

Soon after making that call, Frances has a nervous breakdown that impedes her relationship with the AI, and is quietly shipped off to a university to spend all her efforts getting an art degree under a false name, which her superiors figure is a humane way of getting rid of her in a way that doesn't embarrass them.

Safi had an ambiguous relationship with her family, who took her in and gave her a very good life, but also were terrible in some ways. Several months into growing into an interplanetary activist of the exact type that Frances expected her to be, Safi realizes that someone meant to set her on this life path by killing her family, rage quits, and disappears from the public eye. She spends time tracking down everyone involved in the hit so she can ruin their lives. She's 18 and a hothead, more than Frances knew.

Frances is on the top of the hit list, so Safi enrolls in the university she's hiding out at as an undergrad (thereby, yes, making this a college fic – look, I've always wanted to write one), also in disguise. She manages to make contact with Frances by enrolling in a class with her. Frances obviously recognizes her but has no idea what Safi is doing here; Safi's first layer of disguise to almost everyone is "normal vaguely foreign student", her second layer of disguise to Frances specifically is "Safi, but she wants a normal life for a while and an education on the ruling planet, and has no idea who Frances is".

There's some dancing around for a while where Safi befriends Frances, maybe roping her into some intensive and actually interesting school project. Safi spends these months trying to ruin Frances's life in RELATIVELY MUNDANE, PETTY WAYS like guilt-tripping her, getting her apartment burgled, and outing her in a planetary culture where being a lesbian is mildly to moderately stigmatized because it's strongly associated with the semi-fringe monarchist movement, all while observing her to design a coup de grace optimized to make Frances as miserable as possible. Meanwhile, in normal life, they are forming a surprisingly strong connection. (They may make out a bit at this point, Safi arranging it so that Frances immediately turns her down but gets flustered and guilty about it, because Safi is playing a sexually inexperienced undergrad who'll be crushed if the first gay contact she tries to make goes badly.)

Safi quickly figures out that, after all that work tracking down her nemesis, Frances is a total wreck of a person who isn't at all satisfying to ruin because she’s already a huge mess. Lots of rage sloshing around with nowhere to go. Also by this point they definitely want to bang each other and are horrified by it. There's a big confrontation where they shed their secret identities, where Safi really lays it in and then leaves. Frances, in the aftermath, decides that her redemption lies in shaping up and being a satisfying enemy for Safi to take down, and so does everything she can to get herself together and become the perfect political rival...

("Eti, please stop, we get it, you kink on –")

With Frances taking the lead on the shape of their new relationship, Safi steps into the dance, into a Locke-and-Demosthenes dynamic where what they say in public is largely reflective of real personal differences in opinion, but also a deliberate partnership to optimize the debate between them itself to lead their civilization away from war. They do this without ever coordinating personally on their goals.

(They say things like "That said, Miss Frances, I cannot wait to take your argument apart. You have published a 35 page supplementary tract on your views since then and I have read it with interest. ... Attached is my 44-point list of objections, follow up questions, and what I believe to be convincing takedowns to the general Mars Deltan audience with an open mind.")

// At this point I lose conviction in what happens next – I’ve filled something out but it’s not inspired, the stuff I really care about is [gestures above].

This is the case for the next several years or so. They are completely and stupidly obsessed with each other and spy on each other. Safi goes and has a defiantly prolific sex life, hoping that Frances will be upset about it. Frances, incidentally, is not, but she tries to return the favor by going on some dates (which Safi does get het up about) although she's too demi to actually sleep with anyone. Eventually, they start a secret line of correspondence – probably Safi starts it after Frances misses too many therapy appointments and says something snippy about it – that over time turns into what's undeniably love letters.

At some point, one of them has a real personal crisis and the other one just materializes at their doorstep. The one who's having a crisis ignores everyone else, grabs their visitor's hand, and pulls her into the bedroom. They don't leave for a couple of days.

More faffing about Whether We Can Do This, which is rendered moot by the fact that they find it impossible to stay away from each other. Agony. Frances comes up with a long, multi-year plan for arranging their public lives to intersect in a way that naturally culminates in their getting married. Safi shoots off five emails arguing about the pre-nup and quibbling about the strategy, before belatedly realizing that Frances just proposed marriage and Safi... wanted it so obviously much that she never even considered contesting the premise of the plan.

There are some hiccups but they execute this fine and get married. Oh shit oh shit oh shit what now. Frances might be sufficiently neuroatypical that, Derek Parfit style, she can't handle actually living with her spouse and they largely conduct their relationship over the phone and meet once a week to talk irl, cuddle, and fuck.

#rambl #infinite monkey

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brabe · 4 years

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WHAT IF... MURATA UGETSU HAS BORDERLINE PERSONALITY DISORDER?

“Murata Ugetsu was by no means detached from life- nor was he free of worries and grief, he had feelings too- the same as anyone else... But, unlike ordinary people, his heart and his emotions were overflowing.

While I listened to Ugetsu’s music that day—to the sudden flood of music-feeling that was amplified so many times more than usual, I found myself wondering — how... just how was this child prodigy able to live...?

Be it joy, or sorrow, or suffering, Ugetsu lived with feelings which were much more complex, and exponentially larger than those of ordinary people- just accumulating it all within himself.” (Chapter 17)

Murata Ugetsu’s introduction struck a chord with me right away because I recognized the feelings described all too well. So, I asked myself, what if?

After finishing the anime, I read all the chapters of the manga mainly because I wanted to know more about this intriguing character, and I only kept finding clues that reinforced my initial assumption.

I am hyperfixated on mental health issues, in part wanting to find characters to relate to, so here is my reading of Murata Ugetsu. I wonder if anyone came to the same conclusion as me.

Borderline personality disorder (BPD) is an illness marked by an ongoing pattern of varying moods, self-image, and behaviour. These symptoms often result in impulsive actions and problems in relationships with other people. A person with borderline personality disorder may experience episodes of anger, depression, and anxiety that may last from a few hours to days. In general, someone with a personality disorder will differ significantly from an average person in terms of how they think, perceive, feel or relate to others.

“People with BPD are like people with third degree burns over 90% of their bodies. Lacking emotional skin, they feel agony at the slightest touch or movement.” (Marsha Linehan, Professof of Psicology, who has BPD herself and developed the most effective therapy to date for this disorder).

There are many categories of symptoms for this disorder and I reckon Ugetsu manifests the following:

A pattern of unstable relationships swinging from extreme closeness and love (idealization) to extreme dislike or anger (devaluation):

The most glaringly obvious one is, of course, the relationship with Akihiko.

“Right after Ugetsu has been away from home for some time, there is a honeymoon phase which lasts a few days. It’s as if we have returned to the past... And then out of the blue, it happens—as if he’s saying, yes, this is a great chance—let's take this opportunity, quit being together and break for real this time. Like he is in a rush... Like I am not needed. Like—he is forcibly shutting me out from his world.” (Chapter 19)

“Him and I... We have been causing each other nothing but despair for almost two years now.” (Chapter 17)

It’s also notable the lack of other relationships. When Mafuyu asks him, why Ugetsu was confiding in him, even though they were virtually strangers, Ugetsu replies: “Because I don’t have any friends! Perhaps, I really just wanted someone to understand... Just a little bit is enough.” (Chapter 17)

He is actually really kind towards Mafuyu, opening his home to him, freely helping him with music anytime Mafuyu wants even though he is a world-renowned musician and even letting him practice at his house while he is not there. We know he does that because he recognizes the genius in Mafuyu, but still, I think he actually would like to have friends; he probably just doesn’t know how to. We know that Akihiko was his first friend and evidently years later still the only one close to him.

Inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger, often followed by guilt and shame:

Ugetsu gets suddenly physically violent with Akihiko two times (and a third one is implied when Haruki first saw Akihiko and he had a bruised cheekbone). He throws a glass on the floor when Mafuyu visits him because Akihiko still hasn’t come back home. He seemingly inexplicably smashes the mug Akihiko gifted him: “Around the time we had just started to live together, when he brought me my first present, somehow... I hated that very much, and I refused it saying—’I don’t want it!’ Even though it was only a mug. Back then, I should’ve just said—’I’m happy. I want to be with him.’” (Chapter 17)

I believe the last one was a dissociative episode, another symptom of BPD, a trance-like state in which one is disconnected from their own mind, body and surroundings. Then the switch turns back on and Ugetsu suddenly starts crying, crouching on the floor, staring blankly at the broken pieces and picking them up, asking himself why, just why did I do this?

The guilt and shame aspect is also shown, when after having recounted his history with Akihiko to Mafuyu, Ugetsu leans his head on the steering wheel of his car remembering everything, clearly in grief, and thinking to himself: “Really... He is a good guy, isn’t he.” (Chapter 17). Here I want to indeed praise Akihiko and underline how well he dealt with Ugetsu’s dissociative episode. He didn’t freak out and lash out at Ugetsu, calling him crazy, but instead he tried to diffuse the situation, laughing and helping Ugetsu to pick up the pieces of the broken mug. As if to say, ‘it’s okay.’

Desperate efforts to avoid real or imagined abandonment:

One way of doing this is leaving the other person before they leave you, which is exactly what Ugetsu does or tries to do. He is terrified that Akihiko will leave him definitely one day, but at the same time he actively tries to make him leave: “I’m the lowest son of a bitch towards Akihiko and I guess he resents me, y’know... But I love him to death.” (Chapter 17)

“I’ve been pushing him away but he hasn’t given up on me at all. I’ve been trying to leave him every chance I get. But it seems like I’m still not good at doing that, so... I’ve always been waiting for him to let go of me.” (Chapter 17)

“What if he never came back, just like that? I’ve thought about it countless times. Yet, I’m still not able to imagine it. Tomorrow, he might come back all of a sudden? Or maybe he won’t? But, just the same, I want this suffering to end. But on second thought, I don’t really want that. All the stuff that’s in this room right now, the thought that everything might disappear... Will nothing... Not one thing remain?” (Chapter 27)

Distorted and unstable self-image or sense of self:

It’s fair to say the core obstacle in his relationship with Akihiko. Ugetsu’s whole existence is ingrained irrevocably in music. It is what gives his life purpose and the outlet with which he deals with his too intense emotions. Which leads me to wonder what would happen if for some reason he lost music. And I am not positive he would survive that.

“After we graduated from high school—at the time, when I was actively performing as a musician... one day all of a sudden I realized, the existence of the other—was the one thing we both chased after the most in this world. As long as Akihiko is with me, I’ll be unable to become free with my music.” (Chapter 17)

Ugetsu felt as if he was losing himself and his music in his love for Akihiko, which brings to the unstable sense of self. This terrified him. Love is messy for everyone and anyone but with BPD emotions are plugged into an amplifier and dialled up to the maximum (“But for my heart to be touched like that”). He can’t deal with all of this and the fight-or-flight response is triggered and “Let’s end this already.” (Chapter 17)

Black-or-white thinking:

People with BPD often struggle to see the complexity in people and situations and are unable to recognize that things are often not either perfect or horrible, but are something in between. This can lead to "splitting," which refers to an inability to maintain a cohesive set of beliefs about oneself and others. Ugetsu seems to be obsessed with perfection and probably to be a world-renowned violinist you need to be to a certain degree. But for example, when asked by Akihiko to come to the band’s first live, he replies with: “Is it at a level that you can show me? Ah... it’s not at a level where you can reply to me right away... then, I won’t come. There’s no point watching a performance if the performer doesn’t have the confidence to do it well.” (Chapter 8)

Ugetsu doesn’t exist in the in-betweens. There is pefection or worthlessness, love or hate, music or Akihiko.

Depression:

Ugetsu manifests many symptoms of depression.

He is either practicing the violin or sleeping.

He seems to undereat. Almost in every panel in which they are at home, Akihiko worries about whether Ugetsu has eaten or not, and always offers to cook for him, implying that Ugetsu wouldn’t bother if left to his own devices.

He is untidy and careless to some degree. At the violin concerto where Ugetsu is the soloist, Akihiko exclaims: “Again? That idiot... His hair is a mess.” (Chapter 15) implying that it isn’t the first time that Ugetsu appears somewhat shabby at a formal event, in which furthermore he is the star. This fact in particular surprised me because I had the impression that Ugetsu was vain.

This neglectfulness also reflects in his living space. Once Akihiko leaves, the house is in complete disarray. When Akihiko comes back to say he will move out, the debris of the glass Ugetsu smashed when Mafuyu visited are still there.

Last but not least, Ugetsu lives in a soundproofed basement in semidarkness, a fortress of solitude of sorts from the outside world.

Suicidal thoughts or threats:

“Well, when I was a kid, I used to go to some unknown old man’s plantation on my own, and I enjoyed killing bugs by squishing them with my right hand, y’know... Then, on one clear sunny day, I happened to listen to some music playing on that old man’s radio. It was ‘In the flow of time’ by Paul Simon... Yet even though I was only a kid, I thought, wow... I want to die... It’s a good day, isn’t it? Well, there were other things too, but somehow, I wonder If I’ve basically been chasing that feeling of dying from back then...” (Chapter 21.5)

Well, this passage speaks for itself. In some capacity Ugetsu has been pondering on death, has been chasing it, since he was a small child. I think this can be linked to the BPD symptom of chronic feelings of emptiness.

Impulsive, self-destructive and sensation-seeking behaviours:

In this category I think we can include the sleeping around in which Ugetsu engages. While not a harmful behaviour in itself, I think the motive is. Ugetsu has been systematically sleeping around for two years not because he actually wants to and it makes him feel good, but he does it to spite Akihiko and as a coping mechanism to try and get over him. This wouldn’t do good to anyone’s mental health and self-worth.

“Ugetsu and I fought all the time, even after we broke up. That... was because of his timing when it came to finding a new man... It was as though he was doing to spite me.” (Chapter 19)

Intense and highly changeable moods:

Simply, all of the above.

This is all for now. I will edit this list if future chapters will shed more light on the mind and heart of this character that I have come to care so deeply about.

#murata ugetsu #given #borderline personality disorder #akigetsu #bpd

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thoughtfullyyoungduck · 4 years

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I know him

A/N: this was requested by anon, I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

summary: could you do a reddie x daughter where she sees apparitions of penny wise but keeps it to herself. but one day when she’s w all the losers they mention pennywise in a short joke and she says she knows who that is n they all freak out wondering how she knows and ask her questions to confirm and somehow she knows everything that happened

warnings: fear of being stuck in an elevator so I guess small spaces, pennywise, a brief mention of vomiting and curse words

The old elevator scared her for as long as she could remember, it’s old doors creaking and closing leisurely, and the inside of it coated in a filthy substance that your dad avoided at all costs and urged you to do the same. Many horror story that roamed the building hallways originated from said moving lift, endless cases of people getting stuck in there and injuring themselves, some minor wounds, some majors.

In one particular case, a man from apartment block B4 broke his hand while trying to escape the grimy space, reaching for help outside of the lift only to have the doors ruthlessly crushing his bones, inducing agony so severely that he had to have his hand amputated.

Or another one during which a woman found herself trapped in it’s confinements while a thunderstorm was happening, and ended up electrocuting and dying before morning dawn.

It’s possible that Richie made those story’s up however, and Emma is the first one to admit that her pops does have a track record of pulling pranks on her, but there is a sliver of truth behind the stories.

Several people reported the elevator for malfunctioning, and the tenant always promised to fix the issue, but he never did, and so the thing continued to be a problem. Emma rarely used it, and if she happened to make use of it’s services, she made she was always accompanied by someone who could help in case of an emergency.

June twentieth though, she returned home from school, secretly excited about the prospect of being on her own for the evening, as Richie and Eddie were going out on a date to celebrate their anniversary, and she already imagined all the junk food she bought and would eat throughout the night, when she stumbled upon a problem.

The apartment Richie, Eddie and her lived on was located at the top floor, the furthest away from the prying eyes of the public, in lieu of their future home being renovated, which meant that taking the stairs was a painstaking chore that left her drained of all energy by the time she made it up.

Normally, she occupied the escalator anyway, but she slipped and twisted her ankle at school that morning, and despite it not hurting too bad, Emma figured that using the elevator was still the better call, so her ankle had time to rest.

She hesitated only briefly, before confidently walking in the lift, and pressing the bottom for the eight-floor. Emma tried to make light off the situation, using humor the way Richie had thought her, telling herself that she better take a large gulp of air, just in case the door refused to open again once they slid shut.

‘I got this I got this I got this’, she murmured to herself, psyching herself up before panic overtook her. Using the elevator was an irrational fear she had, and no amount of times riding helped any good in overcoming it. Realistically, the worst thing that could happen was that she locked in, waiting until a neighbor also needed to use the elevator and noticed that someone was in there, then effectively helping her out, but the thought of spending even five minutes with no way out gave her chills, so she suppressed that thought and waited patiently until the lift moved up.

Only it didn’t. The doors latched shut, but no movements upwards preceded. Clearing her throat, Emma hit the floor number again, rationalizing that she pressed the number too soft to be registered, but the eight lit up and yet again no movement took place.

Emma laughed antsy, breathing in and out deeply, still convincing herself that everything was fine, and a firmer hand was needed to get the lift moving, but when nothing happened, she hurriedly thumbed the open button.

With a screeching sound, the doors began to open, wide enough that tears welt up in Emma’s eyes from relief, but then the doors unfolded just enough to see through them into the open hall, not big enough for Emma’s form to fit through, and then shut again.

Terror infiltrated every pore of her being, rendering her a anxiety riddled mess, her breathing shaking too much to properly inhale. Black spots danced on the edge of her vision, becoming faint enough that Emma stumbled backwards and had to grip the railing bar tight in order not to fall.

The temperature read 35° degrees Celsius, the room hot enough that sweat drops formed on Emma’s forehead, and she lost her cool, her mind conjuring up the worst case scenarios.

She repeatedly pushed the open button, wheezing fresh air in the nik of time, while begging to whoever was listening to save her from this mess. Changing tactics, Emma attacked the alarm bell, but then over-analyzed that too. She had no clue whether or not she was supposed to hold it for a longer period of time, or release it and attempt multiple times.

A phone that connected to the main office was also present, and when Emma perceived that, she lunged for it and held it to her ear as close as possible.

‘Hello, please help me’, her voice cracked, ’I’m stuck.’ Nothing but static greeted her, no person on the other line to help her or comfort her, no help on the way.

The tears began bolstering down her cheeks then, a single one leading the way for many others once the dam was finally broken. In spite of not receiving an answer, Emma repeated the same word over and over again anyway, unable to think of any other way out.

She feared that if she kept opening the door, that that too would stop working, and then the heat building would suffocate her. Or the elevator may crash down, killing her instantly, or starvation and dehydration would take her out before anyone finds her and saves her. The fears may sound un-rational, but to Emma they were very real, and she worked herself up into a near panic attack.

‘Please, please, please, I want my parents’, she continues to sob, hoping against all hope that someone apprehends her message.

Her prayers seemed to have been answered when a white glove creeps through the elevator slot, the fingers wiggling back and forth.

‘Take my hand Emma, I’ll help you out.’

Inhibitions aside, Emma allowed said hand to wrap around her wrist, and urged her closer to the edge of the lift, another gloved hand pushing the lift apart and jerking her through. Ignoring the way the stranger somehow knew her name and the way she was lucky she wasn’t crushed by the doors, Emma heaves down on the ground, her painful ankle all forgotten.

The jitters in her body making her stand on shaky legs until she dropped down on her knees. Lunch had already processed most likely, as she couldn’t hurl up anything solid, but a bad taste lingered in her mouth lingers in her mouth regardless

When the last flow leaves her, Emma sits back, still on the ground, her hands buried in her hair to ground herself.

‘You’re out, you’re okay, you’re fine,’ she reassures herself, refraining from rocking back and forth.

For the first time, Emma glanced upwards to look at the person who saved her. The man, if she could call it that, wore a clown suit, completed with a face caked full of make-up. She inched away from him when their eyes connected, certain that the eyes that stared back were yellow, but upon second glance, she notices they were blue, just like her pops.

‘hmm, are you alright there? You look a bit shaken up’, the man grinned with his teeth visible, yellow and sharp on top while his tongue licked over them like he was hungry. He creeped Emma out, but he did rescue her, so Emma felt obligated to give him the benefit of the doubt.

‘Thank you’, she breathed out, the tears in her eyes running dry. He extended a hand out to her, and she took it, pulling herself upright and shaking the nerves off of her.

‘Who are you?’

‘My names Pennywise the dancing clown,’ he giggled in a weird, unsettling tone, ‘you really should refrain from using that lift, I heard it’s,’ he paused and winked at her, ‘scare inducing.’

‘Right,’ Emma trailed off, the polite smile on her face never fading away. ‘Oh wait, you’re a circus performer right? I heard about it coming to town from one of the posters outside.’

At pennywise nod, Emma relaxed. Sure, he came across as frightening, but maybe that was just her imagination after the scare she had experienced, and it would provide a reason why he was dressed like that.

‘Yes yes’, he explained, ‘do you like the circus? Because I love it’, he twisted his body in a way that made bells go off, the smile on his face unusually large for his face. Speaking of which, his forehead was also massive.

‘Your fathers used to love the circus too.’ The admission sparked new interested within Emma, who perked up and listened to him with all her attention.

‘You knew my fathers?’ she asked, shaking off the worry that loomed in the back of her mind.

‘Why yes of course I do, we were all best friends, and we did so much fun things together. If you want, I’ll tell you all about it.’

Emma hesitated, she had never met this man, and he seemed to be sketchy, but at the same time her interests had been piqued, and she figured that the man wouldn’t have come to her aid if he had something malicious planned.

‘They lived in Derry, Eddie and Richie, and they have always been best friends. But the summer of 1989 was one they’ll never forget.’

Emma frowned, neither her dad nor her pops had ever mentioned the summer of 1989, nor had they ever discussed any other people outside of the losers club, but if he knew their names were Eddie and Richie, there’s no way he hadn’t met them.

‘Ow yes, the summer their nightmares came to live right before their very eyes,’ his voice lilts up in a sing song sound, almost a mocking tone, and he belly laughs, as if the prospect of facing your fears was that funny to imagine.

Emma’s heart began to pound faster when the memories of the lift resurfaced, and she couldn’t phantom anyone laughing at that.

‘It all began with uncle Bills little brother….’

When Emma awoke, she was laying down on the sofa, her legs stretched over side so her feet were dangling. She lifted her head and scanned the room in confusion, blinking away the sleep from her eyes.

She would’ve swore that she had a conversation with a guy, but maybe that was a nightmare that she experienced a little too vividly. The talk was strange to begin with, anecdotes including murder, brutal attacks and near death experiences presented as something that really took place, something her family endured.

A quick search on the internet let Emma to believe that she saw a hallucination induced by her distress, and so she never mentioned anything to her fathers when they returned home from their date.

Perhaps the man had offered help to Emma, and he was uncanny enough that Emma dreamed about him after he left, but the conversation was all in her head and never had never come to pass.

The elevator was at full service again the next day, so she never informed Richie and Eddie of that either, feeling no need to rehash how irrational she behaved.

She adamantly fought tooth and nail to never step near the lift at any time, and since her parents were good at parenting, they accepted that with no questions asked, although Richie would huff and puff walking up and down the stairs, his old man bones creaking in protest changelessly.

-----

‘Chug chug chug’, Bill chants, his hands balled in fist chomping down on the table as he viewed Richie gulping down his glass in one smooth sling.

‘I hate it here’, Stan rolls his eyes, downplaying the nearly there smile that graced his face upon hearing roared laughter.

Losers club meetings always brought a never seen amount of chaos and noise, causing them to be chucked out of restaurants more than once, but they’re never deterred.

Stan advocated on multiple occasion to host the parties in one of their houses, but upon the suggestion of organizing one at his house, he backed down and dejectedly proposed a new restaurant they’re welcome at, for now.

This time, the choice alternated between a new Thai restaurant or a steak house that Richie tipped very generously for last time they visited, the new Thai place being a tad more inviting.

Emma loved losers meetings, because she always got to reconnect with her aunts and uncles, and also because the food was more than delicious.

She adored all the losers dearly, but the one she formed a special bond with was Mike, the history buff who knows more than Emma’s actual history teacher, and the one who somehow knows all the right words she must hear if she asks for advice.

The spot next to him is without fail the one chair that remains empty until she arrives, hanging off the tip of his tongue to hear about all the adventures he undergoes on his far off trips.

Today is no exception, Mike sitting on Emma’s left as she bolsters equally as loud as her uncles and aunts as liquid spills from the side of her pops’s face, staining the new shirt her dad recently bought and now belongs in the trash.

Eddie’s face is set in a scowl, as he thrusts out for a napkin and hands it over to Richie, who takes it with a smack kiss on the cheek as a romantic gesture Eddie repulses away from.

‘Dude, keep your disgusting bear filled lips the fuck away from me’, his face lighting up with a blush he tried but fails to suppress. His repulsion of germs decreases every day, but it’s not gone completely, the avoidance of touching the table with any skin proof.

‘Oh come on Eddie, it can’t possibly bother you that much, you married the guy’, Stan remarks, chuckling when Patty softy taps him on the arm.

A waiter pops his out from behind a wall, his face betraying nothing, but the murderous look in his eyes more than telling enough that this will be the last time they pop in this eatery. He refrains from saying anything though, walking away with a rigid back to no doubt complain to his coworkers about annoying table number five.

Thank god, they’ve only arrived an hour ago, and are still waiting on their food to come, and Emma is excited to try it.

‘Ben and I saw the circus in town two weeks ago,’ Bev steers the conversation in a different direction, bored with the current lack of anything but laughter.

The mention of the circus reminds Emma of the strange encounter that happened, the incubus she can recall in perfect detail. The duality of reality and fiction confusion her to this day. She’s pretty sure she dreamed the whole thing besides her being stuck, but then did Pennywise exists for real? And if not, then who helped her out?

The table turns abnormally quiet, so much so that it shocks Emma out of her thoughts. Stan’s face in particular drains of all color and he taps his fingers on the table to remain calm and collected, Patty scrutinizes his every move, but she is lost for how to react as well.

Ben sips his drink awkwardly, clearing his throat after and lacing his hand with Bev with a warning squeeze. Emma is a second away from asking what in the world is going on, but Richie’s got it covered.

‘Yeah, you saw any one familiar? Like a type of clown hoping we die gruesomely? It’s been a while huh I wonder how he’s doing these days.’

‘Richie’, Eddie hisses exasperated, motioning his head in Emma’s direction to remind Richie their daughter was still in the room with them.

Emma chortles at his joke, covering her mouth with her hand so that no piece of the chip she’s nibbling on accidentally lands on the table, the others following her lead easily. They remain at the edge of their seat, not yet settled, but Richie’s humor calmed them down enough that the tense atmosphere around the room fizzles out.

Emma, unthinkingly and mindlessly adds; ‘That someone happened to be named Pennywise?’

She continues to chuckle at her addition, right up to the point that a glass crack to her left, Ben’s glass splintered in tiny pieces on the floor as his big, shock filled eyes gawking at Emma as if she announced she’s pregnant.

The sound of glass relinquishing disturbs Emma’s laugh, the blast spooking her out of nowhere.

‘What? Her dad asks her pressed, and if she thought the losers looked keyed up before, the consternation they now display is in a whole different ballpark.

Trying to rail the topic back on track, Emma continues to jest the situation, reminiscing on the fictional things in her dream.

‘Yeah, you know Pennywise. The clown that transformed into your worst fears. Stan’s painting, pop’s clowns, dad’s gazebo’s, oh and of course we can’t forgot about breaking dad’s arm right.’

No one else laughs, all of them staring shell shocked ahead, unbeknownst to Emma thrusted back to the summer of hell.

‘Emma,’ Richie address her, his palm rubbing across his chest on the left side, his heart burning with urgency to protect his daughter and his family without a second of hesitation.

Richie rarely uses her name in place of a nickname, so she drops the act and tunes out every other person and sound for the sake of paying attention to her pops.

‘Where did you hear all of that?’

A cold gust of winds breezes around the room, resulting in shivers that shake Emma’s whole body. All members of the losers club focus on her, awaiting her response to the question. Eddie and Richie in particular are most keen on finding out how their daughter somehow, without any of them telling, savvy traumatizing events of their youth.

‘I don’t know, a nightmare. Why is it so important?’ Emma inquires, enclosing her body with her arms in an effort to comfort herself.

‘A nightmare?’ Eddie clarifies, the intention behind his inquire not flying over her head.

‘Emma’, Mike interrupts to stop the impending flood of dread about to unleash over her before it even begins.

‘I know you know so much more than you’re letting on. I understands why this is scary, but it’s of the upmost important that you come clean now.’

Mike can read her better than a book, and that’s saying something for a librarian, so Emma gives in, overwhelming tears sticking to her eyelashes, the attention proving to be too much, begging anyone in the room to explain to her what’s going on.

‘The elevator got stuck in our apartment building, and this guy, Pennywise helped me out.’

‘Oh applejack,’ Richie exclaims, understanding now why she’s so resilient on trudging the escalator. Eddie scrambles up from his chair across from Emma’s seat, and tucking her away safely in his arms, her head underneath his chin.

‘it’s okay Ems, you’re safe, you’re fine.’ He soothes her, suppressing his own sobs at the knowledge that Pennywise had been this close to attacking his daughter, the light of his and Richie’s life. Richie joins him a moment later, pressing both Eddie and Emma close to him in spite of the difficult position they’re in.

‘Yeah, no fucking clown is coming near you again, well except for uncle Stan then of course. He gets a pass.’

Uncle Stan dishes out no jab, inevitably inciting more terror in Emma, who whimpers and hides behind the shield her dads form around her.

The night ends with a sleepover all the losers join in on, each and every one committed to creating a safe space for Emma, and if that means killing Pennywise again, then so be it.

#reddie #reddie x daughter #My writing #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrack #Richie x Eddie #richie tozier imagine #eddie kaspbrak imagine #the loser club imagines #it chapter two imagine #mike hanlon imagine #ben hanscom #beverly march imagine #bill denbrough imagines #stanley uris #richie as a parent #richie as a dad #eddie as a parent #Eddie as a dad

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reynesofcastamere · 4 years

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Jagged Crowns(2/2)[β]

(A/N:As previously discussed, this is not a continuation , but rather a ‘same scenario, different circumstances’ deal. The primary difference between the two is Darksider!Ahsoka. So yes, this one is going to be NSFW *cough* for various reasons. Also, to reiterate:(since I mentioned this in the tags and not everyone has the time/inclination to read those), I have removed the previous limit and my inbox is open for questions, drabbles and prompts. Keep in mind that sometimes asks do get lost and that it is never my intention to deliberately ignore someone. That being said, warnings for: gore, violence, death, intrusive/manipulative thoughts, possessiveness, bloodplay, powerplay, biting, mentions of exhibitionism kink and...Look, if two people having rough sex directly after battle while there are still dead bodies in the room squicks you out, best to give this a pass. Now, on to the fic! Unbeta’d.)

The Sith are fools. Locking themselves into a cycle of a beast devouring its’ own tail, gorging themselves even as they lose their most vital components. Ahsoka and her Lord are strong, united in purpose and potency, the Dark Side practically leaping to obey their will: As they pull the Emperor off his throne, drag him through the blood and viscera of his loyal protectors, and cleave his decrepit body with their blades until he is so much burnt offal. A fitting sacrifice for his conquerors. Scarcely are their weapons deactivated and holstered before she is upon him, lips and tongues battling fiercely as they negotiate a haphazard path towards their new place of power. Pieces of armour and clothing are nearly torn off in desperate haste until Ahsoka springs upwards. knees pressed against his thighs as he drops back onto the throne. Her hands slide from his shoulders, along his nape, to trace and tug at the base of his posterior horns, a gratifying purr vibrating deep in his chest. She pulls back for a moment, just to bask in the image he makes; The terrible beauty of shadow and flame, crowned with sharpened bone. Now a sovereign in truth, not just appearance. Yet even in this moment of triumph, his ghosts will not be silent. Especially the old slime-snake.Their multitudes are known to each other, the recriminations, the reckless urges, the eternally-unsatisfied needs. And while they cannot remove them entirely the voices can at least be silenced for a time.

Ahsoka presses the pad of her left thumb to one of his horn-tips until it bleeds, then brushes it across his lower lip.His tongue darts out to taste her blood, even as she brings the cut digit to her sternum, tracing a rough copy of the symbol that adorns his own. Through their bond she coaxes his metaphysical hands to join hers in wrapping around the venomous shade’s throat. “He doesn’t get to have you anymore.” She snarls in protective fury, her own gaze infernal with the intensity of it as they choke the monster’s whispers down to nothing. One death is not enough. She will kill every trace of Sidious in her Lord, in the galaxy over and over again until nothing is left. He loves her. For her spirit, her empathy, for being the one who stays when so many others have fallen or abandoned him. She knows this without Maul ever needing to say the words. It is branded in his eyes, on her soul, in every brush of their minds through the Force. She does her best to return the gift of that certainty, the assurance that she is his. There will never be anyone else. Her hips circle and grind against his as his hands sweep down her torso, stopping to squeeze her waist before fingertips hook into the top of her leggings. He eases them down, revealing her by slow degrees until the fabric pools around her calves. She claims his lips in an eager rush, tasting the faint trace of her own blood as she reaches down to press two of his fingertips deep into her soaked channel with her right hand. The other draws him out, anointing his shaft with crimson liquid. They pant in anticipation, trading bites and shuddering, deep moans, pelvises meeting in teasing slides even as their fingers work in frenzied rhythm. “Who do you belong to?”

“You.”

“And who am I?”

“My Empress.”

“Yessssss.....” She removes his digits and impales herself on him, effortless and without shame. Ahsoka arches in sheer pleasure as she sinks down to the hilt, kept upright only by the hands that cage her hips. Her current perspective of the room is tilted and stained with carnage, but it is only too easy to envision the near future; Their own guards silent, still, and longing as their rulers writhe and rut together. She knows he can see it too, how the thought makes her gasp and squirm. When she meets Maul’s gaze again, it is molten with obsession and lust. They’ve danced with the thrill of being caught before, though never quite like this. There’s little need to hide or wait now that they can fuck where-and-whenever they please, within reason. Ahsoka’s hips circle as her walls contract, keeping him embedded deep within. There’s a slight ridge near the base that’s absolutely maddening when it rubs against her clit, she has to fight not to press frantically against it. She wants this to last, after all. Maul has other ideas, though, one hand crushing her against his front as the other digs into her backside. He’s biting repeatedly at her throat, leaving a messy collar of bruises and leaking cuts behind, growling like a feral beast. She claws at him in turn, hissing and keening. It’s too much and still not enough until- “Come.” She cannot refuse the command, rough and possessive as it is; Dragging him over the edge with her and crying out in sharp ecstasy. But he’s not done, discarding her leggings and boots before turning them. Her spine is pressed against the back of the throne with him kneeling between her thighs, legs firmly wrapped around his hips. He is still hard, twitching and slick from their first climax as he re-enters her slowly. She welcomes the burn of the intrusion, the struggle of her overstimulated nerves adjusting to his girth.

He leads her on with shallow plunges, little nips of his teeth to her lekku. It’s deeply frustrating because he knows what she wants, yet when she tries to direct his mouth elsewhere he traps her wrists in one hand and pins them above her head. “You can do better than this.” Ahsoka points out, wriggling to try and get more friction, more speed, more anything to no avail. “Not until you beg.” Maul purrs, so close that he might as well be kissing her, eyes and tone heavy with promise. One that he, of course, doesn’t follow through on. Her heels press into his lower spine in retaliation, watching his eyelids flicker as his breath sibilates between his teeth. “You really think you can wait that long?” She hums, smiling as his hips buck in instinctive reaction. It is all a game to them. She could break free or stop him at any time, but she doesn’t care to. And he desires her resistance just as much as her submission. “Absolutely.” He asserts in a low growl, claiming her mouth with his. They lose themselves in this for some time: Her attempting to spur on his aggression while he toys with her lekku, neck, and breasts.

Finally, she decides to have some mercy on him. “Master, please.” Ahsoka sobs, sounding half-crazed and hoarse. “Harder.” She arches her body and ripples her core in a desperate plea. “I need you to break me.” It is enough to unleash the primal creature that lurks beneath his skin, and she cries out when he slams into her at last. Maul is all but violating her with each searing, forceful thrust and all she can do is plead for him to keep going.

An exchange of yes, more, please, mine, yours, always falls from their lips, teeth bared in pleasured grimaces. She loses herself in him, vision blinking between his face and his own view of her. Their tangled thoughts are no less scintillating, fragmented and chaotic as they are. But for a moment, there is a clear vision: An Empire free of the corrupt, the grasping, and the fearful. A galaxy at peace, its Emperor and Empress with heirs both of their blood and taken in by choice. It is beautiful, and she knows with every fibre of her being that they can make it a reality before it splinters into a dazzling ring of coloured light and she wails...

He is still pounding into her, triggering aftershocks that are rapidly building towards another climax.The throne is a mess beneath them, essence pooling underneath her backside even as their joining only grows more hurried and violent. Her hands are free again, nails raking his back, breath escaping in faint whines and keens while he growls and pants in off-key rhythm. Her cunt is in absolute agony from being forced to take this savage treatment so soon after release, yet she cannot bring herself to stop or even slow down. So close...He bites directly over where she had left a crude approximation of his markings earlier, and she whites out in pain-laced bliss as he roars. Ahsoka gulps down air when she comes back to herself, feeling warm wetness and hard muscle underneath her fingertips. She doesn’t need to look to know that she’s shredded his back to ribbons again. They’re both going to need bacta patches pretty soon, if only to prevent infection. Getting their clothes back on wouldn’t hurt either. But not just yet. Not while Maul is kissing her so very softly, approval radiating in the Dark Side and his thoughts. Because she loves him, she will give him this, and all of her, forever. (A/N: This...took a bit longer to type than I initially planned. Curse you, writer’s block. Going to try and get the next installation of my main series or the Mando!AU up next, though as usual I make no definite guarantees on that. The muse is veeeeery fickle at times. Cheers, everyone!)

#maulsoka #NS.FW #come to the dark side we have smut #lol sorry couldn't resist the joke

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skvaderarts · 3 years

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Hiraeth Chapter 13: Forward

Masterlist can be found Here!

Chapter Thirteen: Forward

Notes: Sorry this one was a little late! I had company over, and we were having such a good time that I forgot to upload the chapter! My bad!

(-~-)

Time seemed to flow a little differently in the quiet chaos of the hospital’s intensive care wing. Drifting in and out of consciousness lent him a skewed sense of what was actually going on around him and, as such, he didn’t truly understand the gravity of the situation that he found himself in. And in a way, there was a part of him that was eternally grateful for that, because he could only scarcely imagine the horrors that must be occurring within his vicinity if the sounds were anything to go by.

All around him, the sounds of machinery humming and people shouting and yelling over one another filled the stagnant air, most not taking the news of the demise of their loved ones lightly. And there was no definite reason that anyone could give them as to why it had happened in the first place. It was simply one of those freak things that no one could really adequately prepare themselves for, like an earthquake or other natural disaster. Only this was different because should there have been an adequate police presence present at the time or some other form of armed response, they might still be alive. You couldn’t fight a tidal wave, but you could shoot an idiot with a knife who was trying to stab your mother to death. And while you couldn’t do anything to nature for sweeping your house away in a mudslide, you could sit in a courtroom and face the evil individuals who killed your family.

V felt fortunate at that moment that he had no one to lose. As much as he cared for Morgan, especially in the moments when he wasn’t sure they were both going to make it, they weren’t family in the way these other people were. He’d liken them to friends, maybe even good friends now. But he could only imagine what kind of damage losing your mother or father or even your grandparents to something like this could do to you. And as V drifted in the semiconscious state that he found himself in, he couldn’t help but feel the agony of the space around him. It was as if the hospital had a presence of its own and it was weeping in sorrow from what it had lost. What had been lost within its sterile walls despite the best attempts of those who sought to do the best they could by those who had been sent there to be cared for by them.

More time than he could adequately acknowledge in his hazy state passed, and soon he found himself awake. It was a strange sort of hyperawareness that he rarely felt, and it was somewhat akin to those rare mornings when you woke up and sat up in your bed only to realize that you were wide awake somehow. In truth, V had never been a morning person. It wasn’t so much that he was a night owl as it was the fact that his mind tended to wander into the late hours of the night, keeping him awake when all he craved was the sweet embrace of a deep slumber. But at that moment, he was very much awake. And he was very much aware of where he was.

Judging by the conversations that he had heard bits and pieces of, he was somewhat surprised that his leg wasn’t in some form of traction. In truth, he couldn’t actually feel anything that might be wrong with it. In fact, he hadn’t been able to feel it at all when he’d first realized that they were talking about him. But in that same vein, he was just glad that he still had it. Talk of hypothermia claiming a part of him like that was a phobia he hadn’t realized he’d had until that day, and it was one that he wasn’t keen on helping come to fruition. But at the moment he had more pressing matters to attend to.

There was a doctor there to see him, and they looked utterly and totally perplexed.

“Hello, young man. I apologize, but your medical chart doesn’t reflect your name, and I don’t think you’ve been treated here before due to a lack of other forms of identification or other records in our system.” He pulled up a chair, plopping down with a much friendlier look on his face than he’d previously possessed. He seemed somewhat intrigued instead of confused. “I’m David. I was just coming to check on you, and here you are, awake and coherent! Wonderful. You’re doing spectacular, all things considered. It’s actually slightly unbelievable.”

V tilted his head to the side slightly, admittedly taken aback slightly by the statement. What did he mean by that? Did they expect him to be doing poorly? In truth, his memory of what had happened recently was somewhat spotty due to his prolonged period of inactivity and semiconsciousness, but even still, that was enough to cause him a great deal of concern. The most he could remember was bits and pieces of him somehow reaching the road and then collapsing. What exactly had happened to him after that was a mystery, as far as he was concerned, so this was all news to him.

“I get the impression that you didn’t expect me to recover from…” He paused for a moment, trying his best to recall what had actually happened that could have injured him. Unfortunately, he came up empty. “Actually… what did happen to me? My memory is a little bit hazy at the moment. Did I hit my head or something?”

“No, but your vitals were all wrong when you arrived.” The doctor took a moment to leaf through the papers on his clipboard, shaking his head as though he himself didn’t believe what he was reading. “Your internal body temperature was at 90 degrees, and you were suffering from Acute Tachyarrhythmia. You’d also somehow managed to walk what we estimate was around 5 miles in soaking wet clothing during a blizzard with a major impairment to your right leg. At first, we thought your femur was broken, but all of our follow-up X-rays have come up inconclusive. I can’t say anything as to the rigidity of your bones, or your ability to actually walk at the moment, but the fact that you are sitting here breathing and seemingly just fine is nothing short of a miracle.”

If he’d been able to look at himself, V probably would have found the absolutely gobsmacked look on his face amusing. Despite the fact that he didn’t understand the implications of what most of those terms meant, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t somewhat shocked to hear that he had apparently nearly died and yet didn’t feel any different. “That condition you mentioned… acute -what was it- what does that mean?”

David looked at him for a moment as though he were attempting to remember what he was talking about before looking upwards again, seemingly jolted back to reality. “Oh! Acute Tachyarrhythmia? It’s a form of arrhythmia or heart palpitation. Essentially, your heart rate was far above what it should have been. Well into the 300s, and nearly at the 400 mark at its peak, which is irregular, to say the least! We had to administer anti-adrenaline, but much to our surprise, the normal dose didn’t seem to do much of anything. Four injections later, we were finally able to sedate you, but the entire situation was deeply strange, to say the least. That might be why you don’t remember much.”

Looking over at V, he paused for a moment to see how he was reacting to the news before continuing. Giving him a stress aneurysm after he’d managed to survive such extraordinary circumstances was relatively low on his list of wants, and the last thing he wanted to do was overwhelm him. “Are you alright? I can stop now, if you’d like. I understand that this is probably a bit much for you to take in so soon after waking up. You have been out of it for quite some time now.”

The white-haired teen immediately went on alert at the statement, his pupils dilating in slight apprehension and shock. What did he mean by that? “Please tell me that I haven’t been in a coma for several weeks or something like that. Even if you have to lie.”

David smiled sympathetically, shaking his head. “Oh, no! It’s only been about four days, young man. Nothing that serious. And that was mostly due to the sedatives we had to give you. I suspect that if your chart is anything to go by, that will be just fine.” He took another quick glance at the chart, his brow furrowing slightly as he looked over something. “You may have some arrhythmia issues in the future, but nothing that should impair or limit you. You’d need a follow-up appointment to look into that, however. I don’t have the authority to diagnose you with anything. I’m just a general medicine doctor, and that is my opinion on the matter. Nothing more, though I do hope you do well. You’ve been through an awful lot for someone so young. What a terrible shame.”

V resisted the urge to nod in agreement. Yes. He had been through entirely too much in his young life. As far as he was concerned, that was a fact. Still, he was surprised to find that he couldn’t make himself look at the situation with an entirely negative outlook. He’d never been through something so physically dangerous, but this was far from the first time he’d ever been in peril, and he was sure it would not be the last. That was just a fact of life. Or at least it was a fact of the life he lived, but what reason was there to be splitting hairs about it at this point?

“Yes. Yes, it is.” He lingered on the words that the doctor had spoken for a moment, turning to look in the direction of the window. He needed a moment to himself to think and take in the gravity of the situation that he found himself in. It was admittedly more than he could properly process all at once, but at least he knew for the most part that he was alright and that everything would be okay. But in all honesty, he didn’t know where he was going to go from there. Back to the town to pack, maybe. But after that, what would he do? “I realize that I still haven’t given you my name. You can call me V.”

The doctor looked at him as though he was going to question him further, but decided to drop the matter for the time being. After all, they weren’t going to be billing any of the survivors, and he was probably slightly dazed and overwhelmed at the moment. There was no point in pushing him to reveal information that he didn’t feel like discussing. And for all the doctor knew, that could very well be his name. People tended to give their children unusual names nowadays.

“Well, I’ll give you a little while to collect your thoughts and think of anything you’d like to ask. From what I can tell, your free to go, but there isn’t a rush.” David stood up and straightened out his coat, looking towards the door to check and see if he was needed. “Your one of the last people from Lympha that’s still here, so we’re not short on rooms or anything.”

A thought occurred to V as the doctor spoke those words, a low undertone of dread rising up from the pits of his gut. He knew the answer to his question long before he actually asked it, but he was hoping to be pleasantly surprised for once. Sadly, he received the usual brand of disappointment and anguish that he was so used to. It seemed that wherever he went, disaster followed not long after. “The rest of the townspeople… did any of them make it?’

Gods how he hoped his gut feeling could be wrong, but he knew.

David shook his head slightly, looking down at the floor for a moment. He fell silent, grief overtaking him for a moment before he responded. “Sadly not many of them did. So far of the two-hundred and thirty-seven residents that are currently known to reside in the town, we’ve only managed to locate about six of you so far. Thankfully the other three-fourths of the town were gone for the season at the time, so the damage was somewhat contained. I shudder to imagine what would have happened if everyone had been home for the season…”

V closed his eyes for a moment in contemplation, still facing the window. The warm sun wasn’t something he normally relished in. In fact, he was much more at home in colder climates. But in this particular instance, he couldn’t help but feel lucky to be able to feel anything at all. He didn’t want to know how many of those who had perished had been children or elderly people. None of them had deserved their fate. While everyone in the town hadn’t always been the kindest to him as a general rule, they had never been overtly unkind or hostile, and none of them had done something to merit the horrible end that they had been granted. At least not his knowledge, but he could scarcely imagine what they could have done to incur such insurmountable wrath, especially from such a seemingly random opponent.

“… What about the people who attacked us. Has anything been said about them?”

A sigh of something akin to contentment escaped David’s lips. V could tell that he was tired, and probably new to the job. Most of the doctors that he’d encountered in his life were a bit more adept at hiding how they felt. If he was willing to bet, he’d be willing to wager that David might be a resident or an intern of some sort. But his heart was in the right place, and he appreciated the honesty, especially in a situation like this. It didn’t matter to V in the slightest. Everyone had to start somewhere.

“Thankfully I can give you some good news there. Or, at least something a little bit better. It’s more strangeness, sadly.” The doctor leaned against the doorway, straightening his posture as best as he could. “That’s where they got the other survivors from. They were held up in the woods somewhere. The people who attacked your town had taken them into the woods to do some kind of ritual. Anyway, there was a huge shootout, and most of them were killed. Their accomplices in the next town over were arrested, and part of the town actually got buried under a snowdrift during the incident. Karma, maybe? Anyway, there hasn’t been given much of a reason yet, just something about how their “lord wished this of them” and “the prophecy has to be fulfilled”. They all sound out of their minds to me, but the one upside to this situation is that the people involved will be looked up for a long time, and they will never be able to hurt anyone else again. That’s the best outcome you can hope for in a situation like this if I’m being honest. It’s shades of grey, not black and white. And sometimes you have to find the brightest light in the darkest room, so to speak.”

Just as the doctor seemed to be about to continue, but didn’t get the chance. Just before he could speak, his attention was drawn away by a small head of messy hair poking through the doorway. Neither of them got the opportunity to speak before Morgan bolted into the room, running over in a teary-eyed mess to see if V was okay. David put his arm in front of her in an effort to stop her, but V waived him away, unwilling to allow her worries to be dismissed. He could tell she had been through an awful lot during his absences. Her eyes said it all.

“No no, let her through. Please. It’s fine. I know her.” V moved to sit on the edge of the bed, not entirely sure what his intention for doing so really was. If he was willing to guess, he’d say that he just wanted to show her that he was alright, but in truth, he didn’t really know whether or not he was or what he was so eager to come to her aid. There was just something about the look of absolute heartbreak on her pretty little face that struck a nerve with him. He never wanted to see her like that again.

“Oh thank- your okay! You haven’t been awake in like four days, V! I was worried sick about you!” Morgan looked as though she wanted to strangle him, but there was no anger in her face. Only relief, sorrow, and exhaustion. He got the impression that she probably hadn’t left the hospital, slept, or ate much in the time since he’d arrived. It was understandable, but he hoped it wasn’t the case. “I’m just glad you’re okay. You looked absolutely terrible when they brought you in. I thought you were gonna die! Had me worried sick there for a while”

Realizing that they needed time alone, the doctor waived politely to them both before quietly exiting the room and closing the door behind himself. Both V and Morgan watched him as he went, relieved to see one another again. He noted that as he tried to put weight on his right leg, he felt a persistent burning sensation and he had a bit of difficulty putting weight on it, but aside from that, he was sure that he could and would manage just fine on his own. Maybe that was the best place for him right now. Morgan would return to life with her family, and he would go elsewhere. Maybe just pack his bags and go. It was worth a shot.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing alright as well. I presume you’re going back to stay with your mother?” V asked, not entirely sure what to say or do at that point. It was a lot to take in.

Morgan nodded. “Yea, she’s waiting for me in the lobby. She came up to see you and thank you for helping me, but you were off getting an x-ray or something, so she couldn’t. Said to thank you for her. She’s too upset about my grandparents to really say much right now.” Morgan looked distant for a moment, more than likely sharing her mother’s sorrow. He knew that it had to be a lot for her. “What are you going to do now? Supposedly all of us are going to be getting some kind of huge payout for having to go through all of this nightmarish crap. I know your not just going to move back into that town and pretend that none of this happened. Any plans for the future, or is it too early in the morning for that.”

V smirked. He really did like this young girl. She had a certain tenacity to her that he didn’t see very often in the people he interacted with. And he was willing to admit that he thought he understood that sentiment. But he lacked the nerve, and that was something that she had in spades.

“I think I’m going to pack my things, put them in storage, and catch the first train that goes as far as possible from here. Once I’m on board, I’ll ride it until I see someplace that catches my eye or until I reach the end of the line.” He shrugged slightly, unsure of what else to say. “If that happens, I’ll board a different train and keep going. And when I’m ready, I’ll contact you. I don’t know how long that will be, but I promise that I will.”

Morgan a hand on her hip, shaking her head. “Call me crazy, but I’m willing to bet you’ve done this before. Just a hunch.”

V nodded, smirking again. She was smarter than she looked, and that was truly saying something because she didn’t look the slightest bit stupid. “If you need me, contact me. Please. But I have to leave here. I’m sorry.”

She held up her hand to hush him. “I understand, V. Just knowing you’re alive is enough. Don’t’ you dare tell me your sorry. I don’t’ want you to be. I want you to leave here and live your life and be happy. I’m going to try and do the same. We both deserve that.”

He looked back at the window again, feeling the morning sun on his face. That was something that he was willing to agree with her on. After all, he’d always wanted to travel. And now that he had nothing to tie him down, why waste the opportunity. If there was one thing that the entire experience he’d just gone through had taught him, it was that he never knew when he could wake up and it could be his last day. He didn’t want to squander that. Not while he still had breath in his body.

(-~-)

I hope you all enjoyed this ark! It’s basically over now, so I’m excited to hear what you thought of it! See you all next week, and stay safe out there! To the comment section! Away!

#V'#Vitale #V's Backstory #Hiraeth #Devil May Cry #Post Devil May Cry 5 #Post Devil May Cry V #DMC #DMCV #DMC5 #Post DMC5 #Post DMCV

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gibelwho · 4 years

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Top 5: Best Films of 2019

2019 was another momentous year for me - spent the first half of the year living at my in-laws house while we waited to move into our forever home, then spending the back half of the year doing house projects as we slowly unpacked. We weren’t consistently heading to the cinema, but we’ve done a race to fit in many more films before the Oscars, which was held this past weekend and where Parasite made history as the first foreign language film to win Best Picture. This is my second year in a row publishing my thoughts on ranking the past year in cinema, so despite the many life changes, excited to keep the tradition going.

Gibelwho Productions Presents Best Films of 2019

5. Marriage Story

4. Parasite

3. Little Women

2 Jojo Rabbit

1917

Marriage Story (November 2019): The film, written and directed by Noah Baumbach, explores the unraveling of a marriage, where the two people are navigating their way through divorce and must forge some sort of ongoing relationship for the sake of their son. The story is an exploration of identity - being part of a couple, emerging as an individual, surviving as a parent, and balancing one’s career. Scarlett Johansson and Adam Driver shine in their performances, finding the truth in each scene, displaying the humanity of flawed people, and really going at it during their epic meltdown fight. The supporting cast is stellar as well, delivering moments of humor, ugliness, and empowerment - notably Laura Dern’s speech about society’s different expectations placed on mothers and fathers. Filmed on location in New York and Los Angeles, the story casts a devastating eye on how two people who have separated can still retain some love in the face of heartbreaking agony.

Parasite (October 2019): A film that starts off as a comical exploration of a poor family slowly infiltrating the house of a rich family in Seoul, then shifts halfway through to become a suspenseful thriller with sequences of violence. Co-writer and director Bong Joon-ho explores the nature of the upstairs / downstairs dynamic, not only having the story center on those in service of the rich family, but also with the production design of the two houses featured in the film. The rich family lives far above the main streets in a multi-level home, with stairs that lead up to a beautifully manicured garden; the poor family’s living quarters is in the lower section of town, they live below the streets, and must contend with the danger of flooding. Avoiding spoilers, a third set of staircases hold a secret that ultimately spells danger for both families. This film has made Oscar history and has opened more people up to the world of International cinema; as Joon-ho said so eloquently in one of his acceptance speeches: “Once you overcome the one-inch tall barrier of subtitles, you will be introduced to so many more amazing films.”

Little Women (December 2019): Adapting a classic novel for the modern era, especially one that has been relatively recently brought to the silver screen, one must insist on bringing an original take - or why else bother. Writer and director Greta Gerwig not only took on that challenge, but elevated the material to a higher degree than has been achieved in previous adaptations. Splitting up the linear story into two timelines allowed a commentary on the past and present that gave more life to the characters and depth to their journeys. Having never read Little Women, I was enchanted by discovering these characters brought to life by a terrific ensemble, including Saoirse Ronan, Florence Pugh, and Timothee Chalamet. Additionally, Gerwig pens an ambiguous ending that will satisfy book readers who felt betrayed by character turns that Louisa May Alcott felt pressured to deliver for publishers in 1868, but that didn’t feel true to her character’s spirit.

Jojo Rabbit (October 2019): Imagine writer and director Taika Waititi pitching his adapted screenplay to studio executives: a story that centers on a young boy growing up in Nazi Germany, who attends the Hitler Youth camp, and whose invisible friend is Adolf Hitler himself. Oh yes, and it will be a comedy, tragedy, hopeful, heartbreaking, hilarious, and shocking - dancing between the shades of tones and the audience will follow along with each beat. What makes this film succeed is the casting of Roman Griffin Davis, who despite his love for swastikas, steals the heart of the viewer with his earnest innocence and hilarious delivery, along with his interaction with his little friend Yorki (Archie Yates), his Hitler Youth leader (Sam Rockwell), and the Jewish girl he finds hidden in the upstairs bedroom (Thomasin McKenzie). Waititi is a genius filmmaker, who took all his Marvel Cinematic Universe clout and made a film about the dangers of youth growing up in the time of fascism, preaching an anti-hate message that the world needs to be reminded of in these nationalistic times.

1917 (December 2019): A film that centers on one technical conceit - that a full length feature film is constructed as one continuous shot - could fall under the weight of that enterprise, but 1917 delivers on all fronts - artistically, emotionally, and yes, technically. While the film is not actually one long shot, whole sequences are sustained for minutes on end, an environment more accustomed to theater actors than those working in film and one that brings a weight of reality to the character’s journey. Due to the story - two men must cross No Man’s Land to deliver an urgent message to a general that could save thousands of lives - the leads are constantly moving, through trenches, across the muddy no man’s land, through fields and streams, and finally the battlefield. The camera follows them through tight interior spaces and open fields, finding inventive ways to track their movements in the war zone. The two leads (George MacKay and Dean-Charles Chapman) deliver incredible performances as they slog through the countryside, encountering incredible British actors for short, yet powerful, scenes along the way. Co-writer and director Sam Mendes leads an incredible team that achieves cinematic glory and Roger Deakins proves for the second year in a row that he is producing the best work of his career. 1917 is not a traditional war film - through its formal choices, it endeavors to place the viewer directly inside the experience of soldiers in the First World War.

Honorable Mentions:

Knives Out (November 2019): A classic whodunit that involves a twist of all twists - solving the mystery halfway through the film; what can the movie possibly spend the rest of the runtime on? This is the genius of writer and director Rian Johnson - he somehow manages to ratchet up the tension and reveal deeper twists and turns that subvert genre expectations. A stellar cast supports the murder mystery, led by Ana de Armas, a lighthearted Jamie Lee Curtis who is chewy the scenery, and a broad performance by Daniel Craig as the lead investigator. Chris Evans’ winter sweater became the breakout star of the film and the production design included an epic knives sculpture that plays a vital role in the climax of the film.

Terminator: Dark Fate (November 2019): I am not a huge fan of the Terminator franchise - I’ve seen the first and second installments, but have skipped the rest of the sequels and never went for the television shows. I entered the viewing of this film with low expectations, and thus was pleasantly surprised by how feminist this film is. Linda Hamilton commands every moment of screen time, the enhanced human protector from the future was an incredible mix of strength and vulnerability, and even when Arnold enters the picture, he knows when to stand back when the women are in command. Yes, there is a totally ridiculous action sequence in a falling plane that defines reality and physics, but there are more moments of women communicating intelligently and emotionally and also women taking command and driving the action forward that fully impressed for what could have been a throwaway addition to the Terminator canon.

Avengers Endgame (April 2019): With this film, the MCU has concluded its first major story arc, wrapping up a 10 years long buildup of the Avengers and affiliated heroes fighting the Mad Titan Thanos in an epic battle. Yes, the film does build up to a climactic final battle, but it takes it’s time getting there, choosing instead to focus on how the character’s we’ve grown to love over the past decade deal with the Snap that killed friends and family and left the world a broken place. The plot really gets moving when a time travel element is introduced and, in one of several lovely tributes to my beloved Star Trek, brings the viewer back through memorable moments in the MCU’s history, layering on meta commentary or radically changing the shape of the past. This film was a bold risk to focus on character over spectacle (at least for a while) and to craft a fitting tribute for the two titans of the Marvel Cinematic Universe - Steve Rogers and Tony Stark.

Apollo 11 (March 2019): The American space program of the 1960s has long held a fascination in our household and so we rushed out to see the documentary that promised new footage for the seminal event that landed a man on the moon. To our delight, the film revealed itself to be a cinematic achievement as well. Director Todd Douglas Miller chose not to narrate the film with an omniscient voice; rather, choosing to fill the audio landscape with diegetic sound from contemporary source material - journalists asking questions in a press conference, back and forth between the astronauts and NASA headquarters, and newscasters reporting the progress to the nation. Some of the shots included in this film, all archival footage and some newly released 70mm material, are so beautifully composed and complex shots; it's an astonishment that this thoughtful filmmaking was done to capture one of the nation’s greatest achievements and this documentary honors that effort on its 50th anniversary.

#marriage story #parasite #little women #jojo rabbit #1917

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canyouhearthelight · 5 years

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The Miys, Ch. 65

I am so, so sorry for getting this out so late in the day. I know this should have gone up almost eight hours ago. Entirely too much has been going on.

Thank you for bearing with.

“Final systems check,” Grey announced, glancing briefly over from the display and nodding at me.

Noah waved its left liw and vomu in a very human gesture, albeit in multiple. “Proper recordings of every Terran scientific paper in our database are prepared to be communicated directly into your translation implant.”

“He means audio,” I stage-whispered to Conor and Maverick. Tyche had marched out and read them the riot act after she and I cleared the air. Their abashed apologies once she dragged them back were still under consideration, but I felt safer with them in the room.

I was also a bit loopy on the sedatives they had given me for my blood pressure. So sue me.

Rolling her eyes, my sister turned to Antoine. “And the connection?”

“Strong and clear,” he confirmed.

Maverick cleared his throat to get our attention. “If we can stream all this information directly into her implant, why aren’t we using this for learning?”

Antoine leveled a half-scathing glare – I couldn’t tell if I was more impressed he mustered any degree of ‘scathing’ or that he was tired enough to let it slip through – before explaining. “Any information retention will be trivial at best, and that would be largely because of Sophia’s exceptional memory. She is still essentially hearing several lectures in a row and repeating them back as soon as she hears it.”

Poor Maverick looked devastated. Unfortunately, his pout was almost comical, and it took every bit of what little self-control I had left to keep from laughing.

It seemed I wasn’t doing as good a job as I thought, because Tyche turned away with a growl, hands flung in the air. “Okay, papers are queued up, connection to the implant is good. Did we get the medication figured out?”

“Confirmed,” Grey asserted without looking up. “Sophia, you will be in REM sleep, but still lucid. This should let you control the dream and speak to Else.”

“So I’ll be hypnotized.”

Grey scoffed, but Antoine cut them off. “We discussed this, Dr. Hodenson. While you may not believe in hypnosis, it is a proven phenomenon. While difficult to accomplish deliberately, I have witnessed Sophia subject to this mental state.”

“Wait, what?” My neck hurt from turning so fast to look at him.

“When you read. When you cook. When you wrap presents,” he ticked off on his fingers.

“I’m not hypnotized, I’m in the zone,” I argued.

Tyche rolled her neck and cocked an eyebrow at me. “That is literally hypnosis, specifically when you read. I remember seeing you sit in a house with no heat, in January, in shorts and a t-shirt, sweating bullets while reading a book that ended up taking place in Mumbai in summer. You get cravings for whatever foods your favorite characters are eating, even if you hate the food.”

“That’s not hypnosis, that’s suggestion,” Grey stated flatly.

“And hypnosis is the induction of a state of consciousness that makes you particularly susceptible to suggestion,” Antoine pointed out, equally flat. With these two, it was practically a shouting match.

Heading off the galaxy’s calmest blow out, I spoke up. “So, creation’s most boring audiobooks, check. Overkill-quality headphones, check. Deep-fake VR drugs, check.” I pointed at myself with both thumbs, “Stoned and willing guinea pig, double check. Let’s get this done.”

Two hours into spouting off what seemed to be hematological extracts, I was considerably less stoned and significantly less willing.

“A low packed cells volume usually indicablood loss due to cell destruction or failure in bone marrow production, while high mean corpuscular hemoglobin concentrations – “

Please. Stop.

“Oh thank fuck,” I gasped, allowing myself to tune out the stream of information piped directly into my head. “Else, is that you?”

Yes, I am here.

“Well, at least it worked… you’re talking quite a bit better now.” I glanced around at the landscape. While focusing on reciting two hours of scientific papers, I had to ignore it all. Since the last time I was here, I managed to figure out that the Ark in my dreams was an analogue of my health, from Else’s perspective. Right now, everything looked okay. The walls were cracked, but all the pieces were in place. No water. All the lights were functioning. “Also, good to see I’m not dying.”

We wouldn’t let you die. We need you.

“Not all of me,” I pointed out to thin air.

Your hemoglobin, Else’s voice admitted.

I nodded. “That sounds more accurate. You eat iron, right?”

Yes. And there is so much here.

“That sounds sinister,” I mused. Since Else has been able to read my thoughts in the past, I made a point in the dream to speak out loud. It was more for me than the bacteria, since literally all of this interaction was happening in my head anyway. “Is that why you are on the ship.”

I didn’t ask to be here. Humans brought me here.

“The same humans you’re eating. Were you in the core samples we gathered?”

No. I came later.

“But that is the only time we have taken anything on board since we left Earth.” This wasn’t making sense.

I am from the Ark.

“Else, you aren’t making sense,” I took a deep breath. I imagined taking a deep breath. Something. I was definitely getting a very real headache. “If you only came after the core samples, but you come from the Ark, how does that work? Are you another alien race? What planet are you from?”

I am from the Ark.

“I mean what planet – “

No planet. I am from the Ark.

“Wait, what? You mean… Life on Earth evolved from the primordial soup that existed after Earth formed. From… amino acids, then proteins…”

From the oceans, to be simple.

“Right, from the oceans.” I mused. “But we’re in space, with all the radiation you could want, plus exotic trace minerals that may be in those core samples, and a big god-damned – “

Language, Else admonished.

“Oh, now you have a sense of humor,” I huffed. “We have a big lake with all kinds of biological experiments going on in BioLab 2. Is that where you come from?”

Not just the water. Experiments, too.

“Fuck.”

None of that.

“So we made you.”

Yes.

My knees spiked in agony as I hit the deck below my feet. “It was an accident,” I begged in a hoarse whisper. “All the shitty things we have done to ourselves and each other, please tell me it was an accident.”

Did you know if you were an accident before you were told by your parent?

“That is such a low blow,” I scowled. “You and Tyche are the only ones who know that.”

But fair.

“Unfortunately.” I huffed an imaginary lock of hair that just appeared in my face for the sole purpose of doing so. “I am going to assume this was an accident.”

Ouch.

Indulgently, I stomped around, fists clenched, growling the entire time. “I am negotiating with a sentient colony of bacteria, one that humanity made, somehow, and now you have hurt feelings!?” I was screaming by the end of it, and a distant part of my brain registered a chilled sensation in my arm. “Stop sedating me, I’m pissed!” Breathing heavily, I tried to calm down. “I get that it’s insulting, Else, but trust me, you do not want humanity to have made you deliberately. If that was the case, your only actual function is to kill people and destroy buildings.”

I don’t want to hurt anyone. I just want to live.

“As a former intended entrée, I can sympathize. But you are killing us, Else.” Hot tears filled my eyes. “I’m okay so far, but that is only because Miys is constantly infusing me with freshly made, iron-rich blood. What happens when we’re out of resources? Or reach our destination?”

Nutrient rich plants, engineered to grow on the new planet.

“Conor,” I gasped, covering my mouth as the tears I was trying so hard to hold back fell down my face. “The catnip he gave Tyche. He said it was a failed experiment.”

He does not know he created us. The gift was in good will.

“Is that how you infected her?”

No. She likes to swim. And she loves you.

“Difference between intelligence and sentience: that was exactly the wrong thing to say,” I hissed. “The only body you have are the ones you stole from my family and the crew, so I can’t actually hurt you. But I am this close,” I held my fingers so they were barely not touching, “to having Miys filter you out of our blood and flush you into space. The only reason I am here talking to you is because we knew you were sentient before we realized you were killing us.” Another deep breath. “Try. Again.”

She was infected when she went swimming. It was not intentional. We needed iron.

“Much better.”

We did not mean for the mermaid to be injured so. There was so much iron in her blood. I did not know that taking it away would harm her.

“You harmed us all!” I screamed. “All of us! You made Grey absent-minded and forgetful. You undermined their confidence. You made Conor, Grey, and Antoine angry,” I spat. “The biggest betrayal of all. Three of the calmest, most reasonable people I know, the ones who would have rooted for you, and you took that away from them!”

I –

“Conor and Grey made you!”

Did not know. Not then. But I-we know that now. And we are sorry.

”Are you? Or are you pleading for your life?”

I-we want to live.

“That I believe.”

But we want you to live, even if we are not within you.

“How the fuck do you think we do that? Humans are the only source of iron on the ship.”

I-we am-are bacteria. I-we can be isolated.

“And then, what? Leave you on some poor planet to kill some other species? I hate to tell you, but you went from birth to genocide in alarming fashion. All of humanity that is left, is on this ship, and you are killing what’s left. From what we understand, the Galactic Council would frown on what you’re doing.” I focused on sending the information I had gotten back to Miys and everyone listening in. “I can’t let you do this to another species.”

Barren planet. Old one, where no more life will survive.

“One that is at the end of its life cycle?”

I-we do not believe I-we am-are vulnerable to heat.

I waited patiently for information before I responded. “Miys says we can isolate you and test for you heat resistance before booting you off in a nebula that you can’t fuck up. Is that sufficient?”

Humans cannot live in a nebula.

“We can’t live in a pylon either, but you ate it all the way through.”

<< Prev Masterlist Next >>

#the miys #science fiction #humans are weird #original fiction #humans are space orcs #contagion #aliens #apocalypse #nighmare #virus

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homestuckcontroversyin2020 · 4 years

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My Opinions on The Epilogues

So I expect that this isn’t going to go over too well, whether it be because I get absolutely zero attention on this post, or for the fact that I’m literally typing up what is probably a hate post that’ll spark up some, “Oh fuck you.” comments. Either way, I don’t really care about the possible hate to be garnered or anything. I’m here to state my opinion on this, and opinions can’t kill anyone when you’re as weak at arguing as I myself am. Now, this isn’t a fucking logical article, I’m not taking time with comprehensive research and making sure I fact check every little detail because that would involve reading Homestuck for and eighth time and re-reading the Epilogues so I have the biggest refresher in the world. I’m not doing that, so take my sub-par rambles.

Preface over, let’s get into the meat.

My original thought when I heard that the Epilogues came out was initially an eye roll big enough to be like when Hulk smashed Loki in the ground. An arch of, “What the fuck, Hussie.” In other words? I didn’t want to read them. I spent the first few days in agony, complaining about how Homestuck was probably just becoming a money grab, and hearing from other people about the content that came out.

It.. wasn’t as bad as I expected when I jumped into it. People made a bigger deal about them than I thought was even insanely possible. Let me get this out of the way. I don’t hate the Epilogues. Do I think they were poorly done? Yes. Do I think that the writing was subpar? Absolutely. Do I think that fourteen year olds in their bedroom typing away at shitty fanfiction or roleplaying smut on MxRP/MSPARP have a better grasp on the characterization of each individual character than the people who took over and wrote the Epilogues? 10000%. Still, I thought they were a clever addition to alternate timelines. I had heard from a source they were meant to be a satirical take on fanfiction, and was a mocking poke at the Homestuck community... until Beyond Canon came out.

So here we are now with an 18 year old who’s spent their time on this planet obsessing over Homestuck since before they could read cuss words without feeling embarrassed telling you about how they’re pissed off with some small things that are of no value.

I’m an Alpha Kid Stan(TM) so everything that happened to my sweet babies has made me want to blow my brains out over the walls. Let’s go down the line.

Jane, sweetheart? Who hurt you? Now, I’ll be honest, I rushed through the Epilogues in my, ‘fuck I don’t want to read this but I feel like I need to in order to satiate my burning curiosity.’ mode. Jane’s whole... situation seems really fucked up to me. The color of her text in the EPs is another thing that pissed me off beyond belief, and I’m not sure why. The consistency between comic and canon was draining on my nerves. Jane, in Homestuck, is a whiny teen, but in no way do I look at her and see racist Hitler. Also, what the fuck was up with the clown thing? Why did she have an obsession with fucking Jake? Sure, she was into him before, but wasn’t part of her character arch getting over the buck toothed bangaroo? I thought so. I also thought that Jane was, you know, just a normal girl living her best life. She sure complained, but who doesn’t?? The Jane we’re given in the Epilogues seems to lack the internal dilemmas that the dear, sweet Crocker we’ve grown fond of does. There’s barely a hit of self hate, she doesn’t blow up, and sure we could possibly count this to her being older, but, what? She didn’t seem to be pissed off about the entire existence of trolls in Homestuck. Sure, her time with them was minimal and she didn’t really get all the shit through, but she fought side by side with Kanaya, even. I just don’t see it at all.

Jake. Oh boy. This is a big one. In either case, Jake’s whole thing really bothers me. He doesn’t seem like Jake. He seems like a watered down version of himself that doesn’t even make fucking sense? He’s an aloof dork, but he’s not horrendously stupid, there’s no reason to make him an alcoholic, and why the fuck is he an attention seeking slut? Yes, yes. We could blame this all on Dirk but really, what were the authors thinking? They had complete control over what happens in this and they turn Jake into something he’s not. He had other drives and passions than living out his life as the sexy action movie woman we all need in our lives. Jake’s smart to his own degree, stubborn, and kind of a flirt! He’s not insanely oblivious, either. For instance, I recall a specific moment where he insinuates that Jane was having a wet dream about him in Homestuck. I’m not going to find the quote, but I know it’s there. Jake spent time working on the robot rabbit for John with Jade and outright refused help from some outside sources. Jake is smart! He’s got an extensive vocabulary! He’s just a nerd, and he’s more than an uwu gay boy for Mr. Triangles.

Roxy, oh no. This is where I expect to get the most heat. Roxy is a beloved character. The light of my life and the best of the kids, in my opinion. (I’m an avid Dirk Stan, but Roxy has won my heart truly and thoroughly.) I don’t like the whole trans/non-binary thing. Not because I’m transphobic or anything, because I’m absolutely not. It’s because it feels like it just doesn’t fit with her as a character?? Roxy grew up in isolation in a place without humans, you really think she’s going to have an outright conceptualized view on gender roles and norms? Basic fucking psychology would tell you otherwise. This is something that her brain would have trained her to do based on a societal view. I may not have paid a huge ass amount of attention in psychology, but gender is a thing that’s completely up in the air and taught to us. Roxy didn’t have that. You could argue and say that her house has something of the sort that’d lead her to feel that way, or perhaps she’s learned this all off the internet, but her clothes scream femme and she had to make them herself, is all I’m saying. Again, whatever, go off, make Roxy trans. It’s not a huge deal, but that isn’t the only problem I have. Roxy as a character seems to have just lost her spark. There’s little outright love and enjoyment and adoration for her friends that there is in Homestuck. She’s not your hype go get them loving girl. Again, maybe you could blame this on the fact that they’re all older, but getting older isn’t going to drastically impede your previous personality and make you an entirely different person. They essentially turned Roxy into a watered down version of Dave, but trans. It’s like they couldn’t make Dave trans so they just made a new Dave. It’s annoying to me, and that’s my biggest problem. I love Roxy. I don’t care for Epilogue Roxy. If they had done it right, if they had used specific things from Homestuck, if Homestuck itself keyed in on this or ANYTHING, fine. But Roxy was old enough to question her identity, most people do around 16, and she could have had the opportunity to start representing this already. I mean, who was stopping her? Then the baby stuff. Huh? What? Why? Doesn’t make sense, pass. Her bffsy, brother, and person that cared about her most off and yeets himself from the top of the nearest belltower and all she can think about is copulating with John??? Alright, fam.

Onto Dirk. Y’know what? I don’t have many huge problems with Dirk. I found his personality in Meat really funny, I found the death in Candy absolutely soul crushing. Dirk is a good character. I don’t think they did his personality well, but I don’t think they did any of the characters well. Maybe John. Maybe. Dirk really just sounded like a child who wasn’t getting what he wanted, and it was amusing to say the least. He sounded horrible from the way people talked about him before I read it, but I really just found his overzealous ego entertaining. I found the fact that they made him still totally desperate for Jake kind of annoying though. Dirk broke of their relationship. Dirk was the one who took a moment to realize it wasn’t healthy for either of them, and getting what you want isn’t good. Taking over the narrative and making your ex nearly jizz himself in public is hilarious and all, but also, what??

Alright. Alphas. Let’s move onto Betas.

I skipped a lot of it, not going to lie. Rather than breaking it down for each character like I did with the Alphas, I’m just going to ramble and see where the wind takes. me.

I don’t ship Davekat. I don’t see it working in a romantic aspect. I see them being bros, and it felt really forced in both sides of the story. The homoerotic tension could maybe be smelled for a mile away, but lets not forget something very important. Dave has shown interest in women. Dave was interested in Terezi, he called Roxy and Jane hot, he totally fucking jizzed his jeans for Jade. The fact that so many characters in the Epilogues were exclaiming that Dave was gay, and Dave himself leaning towards the sentiment, didn’t seem to really match up. Dave’s not just pretending to like chicks either, he’s definitely interested in them to the point of being genuinely flustered and embarrassed (I.E The Hot Mom conversation.) So, I don’t really enjoy that. I think the economy shit is cute, his alternate counterpart seemed to have a good hand for business according to the spiel that was made about him, I liked it.

Rose? Didn’t pay a lot of attention to her. The drug abuse shit really pissed me off. Rose in general really pissed me off in the Epilogues.

John is a can of worms. His characterization was done well, but I guess I just don’t see the point in the two timeline deals. Also, why did he have sex with Terezi? Why was he so much of a baby when the rest of the people around him apparently seemed to mature? Who knows. I sure as hell don’t.

And... then there’s Jade. Poor, sweet Jade. She’s been done dirty almost as much as Jake has, if not worse. She has a dick for one. Yikes. She’s extremely sexually driven, which isn’t something I can see for canon Jade who just wants to hang out and vibe. She’s also so fucking insistent with the “uwu lets date Dave and Karkat” shit that it drives me up a fucking wall. Jade, you should know better! You dated an alternate version of Dave! You dated the OG motherfucker fresh timeline bitch who lost everyone, and sure he was depressed, but I think if I remember correctly you know about all of this???? Hmmmmm!!!! Big questions. It almost leads one to believe she’d know better than to enter into a relationship like this with Dave since it could be emotionally unfulfilling. :))))

Anyways, this entire thing is a can of fucking worms and I don’t suspect I’m going to use this account often aside from shitposting, so have this one uneducated article and if you made it through it and agree, disagree, or what have you, don’t be an ass in the replies? I get it, I’m opinionated and should probably shut my mouth, but it’s the internet and I don’t really care at this point.

#homestuck #epilogues #opinions #spoilers #roxy lalonde #dirk strider #dave strider #jade harley #rose lalonde #john egbert #jake english #jane crocker #rambles #controversy #trans roxy #hs epilogue

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etherealwaifgoddess · 5 years

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What He Wants (Pt. 7)

Main Characters: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Reader

Summary: On going series of Bucky getting his shit together and falling in love with you.

Warnings/ Content: Grumpy Bucky cursing, some angst. Nothing terrible though.

Word Count: 1725

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Rock bottom is behind us and our boy is awake and trying to figure out what to do next. He’s still in rough shape but we’re starting the climb back up to a better place.

If you missed the first few parts, you can read them here: One Two Three Four Five Six

XOXO -Ash

What He Wants, Pt. 7

Bucky wakes up almost a full day later in a sterile white hospital room. It takes him a moment to orient himself in the room, panic filling his chest before his current memories rolled in. It is too similar to waking up in a HYDRA facility, his memories wiped, his body healing from the latest round of experiments they had performed. His breath comes in ragged sobs and he pulls desperately at his hair, trying to focus on the present.

“Hey Rumpelstiltskin.” You say, startling him.

His face pales and for a moment you think he’ll pass out again. Just as quickly though his cheeks heat, embarrassed to have his moment of panic witnessed.

“What day is it?” Bucky asks, his voice full of gravel.

“It’s Sunday. You’ve been out almost a full day.”

He curses under his breath but makes no attempt to continue a conversation.

You go on anyway, needing to fill the silence. “We had to evac you to the nearest military hospital, you still had bullet fragments in your leg. You were in surgery for over an hour but they said you’ll be back on your feet in a few days because of the serum. You might have a slight limp for a while though, there was considerable damage to your calf muscle.”

For the first time since he’d woken up Bucky looks down at his right leg which is wrapped up and slightly elevated in the bed. “At least it’s still attached” he jokes grimly.

“Not funny.” You chide him. “We’re going to have to talk about what happened.”

“Why? Shouldn’t you be off hacking into someone else’s brain?”

You let the barb pass, refusing to be baited by someone who currently looks like he can't sit up on his own. “Nope, the mission was a success. I’m back on my own free time now and I’ve decided to hang around and piss you off some more. So, would you like to tell me when exactly you decided to off yourself?”

“I… I wasn’t… It’s none of your concern. I’ll be out of here by tomorrow and you can go back to pissing off the other people in your life.”

“Stop dodging. And there are no other people in my life. It’s just me, and all I’ve got is time.”

Bucky winces slightly at your confession. He knows what it was like to have no one but yourself and it is more painful than he’d ever admit. “I’m real sorry to hear that.”

His sympathy shocks you, as does the pain radiating from him. The agony you had a glimpse of two days ago must have been only the tip of the iceberg for him. “It happens.” You brusquely move on, refusing to let him keep dodging the subject. “You said something before you went down on the compound, a name, Stevie. You were talking to Steve Rogers, weren’t you? Is that what this was all about, losing Steve?”

Bucky would have rather taken twenty more bullets in the leg than have this conversation with you. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Steve was my best friend and he lived a full, happy life. I’m glad he got to live the life he dreamed of for all those years, even though it meant we lost him so soon.” His words don’t match his eyes and for an ex- assassin he is a pretty terrible liar.

“But what about you? Your life?”

“Well, doll, that was almost not a problem. But you had to butt in.”

“Damn right I did. What about your life, Bucky? Shouldn’t you get your happily ever after too?”

Bucky straightens himself a little at your use of his name. His insides clench curiously at the sound of it tumbling so delicately off your lips. “My happily ever after died the second I fell from that train back in 1944. Every moment since has just been a prolonged purgatory.”

His words hit you like a ton of bricks but you steel your emotions, not wanting him to see how much his pain affects you in fear he’ll clam up. “I’m sure you still hate me, and you absolutely can, but I have to think that our paths crossed for a reason. I only know what I’ve read in your file and heard of in the news, and none of it adds up to the guy sitting in front of me.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“See, there it is. You act like a tough guy but it’s all bullshit. I promise I won’t go near your mind without your explicit permission but I want you to come back to The States with me. I have a place that’s secure, only Fury knows where it is and he’s a tight lipped son of a bitch.”

“Why in the hell would I go back with you? Why would you want me to? And I will never, ever, give you permission to fuck with my head. I had seventy years too much of that shit.”

You switch tactics, desperate for him to give himself a chance. “How did it feel, seeing Steve come back at the end of his life? Knowing he had found a way to get married, have a family, grow old with the love of his life. You had what, three months with him before he passed?”

Bucky’s whole body shakes, he looks so frail under the flimsy hospital gown, dark circles haunting the undersides of his eyes. It’s like your words sapped him of any remaining strength he had. “Why are you doing this?” He whispers, barely holding on to his emotions.

“Because I want you to think, Bucky. Think about what you want the rest of your life to look like. You know what Steve did with his, how happy he was. I know he was ‘Captain America’ and all, but why does that mean he gets a happy ending and you don’t?”

“If you knew half the shit I’ve done over the past seventy years you would already have the answer to that.”

“Nope, not buying it. I’ve seen the files and I know what they did to you. You had no choice over what you were doing.”

“Still did ‘em though.”

“Yes, physically it was you. But mentally you were checked out. That’s how mind control works, and they did a hell of a job on you.”

“He’s still in there, the Winter Soldier. Deprogrammed or not, he’s still lurking, waiting for a chance to pop back out. The world is better off if I eliminate the risk”

“Bucky, of course he is. He’s part of you, you can’t just erase him. Deprogramming will remove the triggers that bring him out but that’s it. You need to make peace with that. The world will be better off with you in it. You have the potential to do so much good.”

“Like what, huh? What good can I do? Most of the world will never see past the monster and I can’t keep doing these missions. I’m so fucking tired, doll. I’m just done.”

“So retire. Walk away. This mission payout was high enough to live on for two lifetimes, take it and come back with me.”

“I don’t take money from missions.”

This is news to you. “What? How do you survive without it?”

“Savings. Steve. And the Avengers. SHIELD knows not to deposit my pay, they gift it to a handful of charities I picked out when I signed on. I won’t profit from warfare.”

Your heart sinks in your chest, he has more good in him than he realizes and you become even more determined to help him see it. “Well, I have enough stashed away from mine to keep us afloat. Do you know what I do back home?”

“You sound like a fucking shrink.”

“Good call. I work with returning soldiers and trauma victims. I was one year away from graduating with a psychology degree before the attack on New York. The therapy center near my home is kind enough to look past my lack of a degree considering how close I was to finishing and my unique qualifications. I get to use my ability for good, to help people move on with their lives.”

“So I’d just be homework then.” Bucky wonders for a moment how much his life would have changed if you had been there when Steve tried to save him the first time. If you had been able to bring back the past Hyrda erased when they created the Winter Soldier. Your angry snap at him breaks him from his thoughts.

“Hell no. And stop it. I want you to come back with me because I think once you get your damn head on straight you would be a great addition to our team. You would be able to help us care for some of these guys with a level of empathy that you are uniquely equipped to give.” You purposely squish down the tiny part of you that’s screaming you also want him to come back so you can keep getting lost in those pale blue eyes and help mend his aching heart.

Bucky shifts, uneasy at your proposition, and forgets they had taken off his metal arm. Where he expects to brace himself, he finds just air and he topples over, scrambling with his right hand to keep himself from falling off the bed. The hole in his right leg pulls and he swears. You’re a mess, he screams internally at himself.

You jump up as soon as you see him tip and grab his shoulder, trying to steady him. He jolts at the contact, staring into your eyes with a mix of fear and surprise that takes your breath away. Bucky shifts himself up, trying to get comfortable and your hand lingers along the wide plane of his shoulder. You rub it soothingly above where the metal starts and he shudders. No one had dared to touch him in years except Steve, and even he never went anywhere near the mutilated part of Bucky’s body. Your soft fingers rubbing at the sore muscles make him want to beg you to keep going. His eyes shut, rolling back in his head for a moment.

“Okay.” He finally murmurs, startling even himself at the decision.

Tag List Lovelies: @my-current-fandom-is @blacklightguidesnic @amazonianbeauty

#bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fandom #marvel fangirl #marvel avengers #post endgame #post avengers endgame #series #part seven #what he wants

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verratensduo · 4 years

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Erejean Week Day 4//Freedom

Jean sat there in his office, one of the best lawyers with the Innocence Project and he was waiting for his next case. He had been looking over a few pretty interesting ones, but he paused as he read over one that seemed to talk to him. It was different than his usual case, but it seemed this guy had been waiting for long enough for someone to come and help him prove his innocence. Though it was not hard to imagine why people did not want to touch this case with even a fairly lengthy pole most would never even dream of trying to touch this case because of the nature of it.

A pretty brutal murder, someone’s head bashed in with a crowbar and shot in the head to make sure they where actually dead. That was nothing less than terrifying to most, but down right no to even more. Jean had always enjoyed a challenge. He had a feeling he could do this. He looked up the number for the prison where the client was, he had waited for over fifteen years for his Justice. Thirty-three years old and the poor guy’s life seemed to be over, talk about a massive amount of suck, Jean would do what he could to help. He flipped through the phone numbers until he found the prison’s number and made the dial.

“Hello? Warden Smith speaking, might I ask who this is?” A somewhat tired, yet scholarly voice said from the other end of the phone.

Jean couldn’t help but wonder what type of warden this man was. Was he a good person? Did he treat the inmates fairly? Would he allow Jean to speak to his new client? He had better, Jean did this because people deserved to have their names cleared, and Jean hated having to jump through hoops just to have to just talk to his client and set up the discussions that should be going on for all of this.

“Hello, my name is Jean Kirstien. I am a lawyer with the Innocence Project. I am calling with the request to be put through to the inmate in your prison known as Eren Yeager. He has a conviction for first degree murder and it seems that the evidence against him is sketchy at best. I want to discuss things with him over the phone before our first face to face meeting. I love to become familiar with my client before I meet them and talk my plan to prove their innocence. Trust me when I say I am a man who does not go dishonest and I never charge for my services as I do work for a non-profit. I am here only to help him.” Jean gave his same basic greeting and explanation that he always did when meeting a new warden, though at this point he was sure his reputation likely proceeded him. Especially in this area.

“Ahh yes, I have heard of you. Judge Zackely sings your praises Mr.Kirstien. I suppose I should have expected someone like you would take this case.” The warden commented in a somewhat thoughtful way.

“Just from my preliminary read through, it seems most of the evidence against him is circumstantial at best, and at least on of the forensic tests is no longer admissible in court. I intended to fix this miscarriage of justice, now may I please speak with my client?” Patients wearing thin, Jean started to tap his pen as he waited to get to his main objective.

“Oh, my apologies. Of course you may, please hold while I put you through to him.” Erwin instructed and put Jean on hold.

Jean groaned, he always had to deal with stuff like this. Holding while they got the prisoner out of the cell. He couldn’t help but feel for Eren, this guy had been waiting for fifteen years, likely stuck in the same dingy smelly cell with only about an hour or so per week in the workout yard if he behaved for the prison. Something it seemed the male could not do as he was known to get into fights. He felt some relief when the phone started to ring again, surely this Eren guy would pick up now.

“Hello?” A gruff, depressed voice answered his call, likely this Eren guy they had talked about.

It seemed that the case, the murder of a Ymir McIntyre, the former girl friend of Historia Riese, the incumbent Mayor of the town was what Eren had been accused of all those years earlier. Jean sure had his work cut out for him, but he was sure that this Eren guy would understand him taking so long to call, because he would ensure Eren went free. Having maintained innocence for this long Jean was more than willing to believe he was innocent.

“Hello, Eren Yeager correct? My name is Jean Kirstien. I am with the innocence project. I am here to help you get out of prison for your wrongful conviction. You have been waiting for far too long. Is there a day I can come in and give you my plan of attack?” He asks as he gets his appointment book out for him. This was a pretty big thing going on here.

“You mean that huh? It does sound nice....finally being free again....we can meet this Thursday at noon....I am sure you see the, unflattering picture of my hair and mustache at the moment and would like to take the next few days to try and clean up a little.” Was the only real reply he got. It seemed that this Eren was a man of few words, that was fine by him.

“That sounds great to me, I’ll see you then. Thank you very much Mr.Yeager. Good bye.” Jean hung up as he finished scribbling down the appointment and then went to start his own mini investigation into the case that had taken place several years earlier.

Needless to say Jean already had several good plans at this point. Supposedly the bite-mark impression and a microscopic hair analysis comparison test had been the star pieces of evidence piled on top of circumstantial evidence the prosecution had presented where the stars of the case. That alone gave Jean some room, now he just had to get some DNA from Eren for a test and present that case, thankfully there where no witnesses otherwise things would have been much harder. Jean had already called his friend Marco, a forensic scientist working at a private lab who would do the case retests to ensure an impartial third party did it.

He made his way into the prison, a long and boring process really. He was a lawyer not a criminal planning to but his buddy out. Oh well, society did always assume the worst of people.

Soon he was inside, and led in to meet Eren Yeager. He did look quite a bit different than his most recent picture indicated, mainly he had shaved off the facial hair, but his hair was still pretty damn long, they would have to gel and man bun it for court Jean decided.

They started the meeting with a firm hand shake, in which Jean noted just how attractive the inmate was, but he had to banish that from his head, professionalism first.

“Alright Mr.Yeager, I have noticed most of the evidence against you was circumstantial at best. The two forensic tests they did on you are no longer admissible in court, so let’s get this going for you huh? I wioll take a swab of your DNA and send it off to have tested against what little DNA they have for the crime scene, when it isn’t a match you will be a free man, especially with my way of taking and attacking the fake sciences that put you away.” Jean flashed a smile,m and just for a moment could have sworn he saw a blush on Eren’s face, but just a moment.

“Thank you Mr.Kirstien. That sounds wonderful, I cannot wait to finally be free again.” Eren smiled a bit, thinking about what he might be able to do with the freedom, but whatever it was he knew it would be truly his choice at long last.

“You are most welcome, but please just Jean. I wish to be a friend and a lawyer to someone down on his luck, I note your adopted sister Mikasa and her husband Armin don’t really stop by with your nieces and nephews so I definitely think you need one other than the mayor who has limited time for visits.” Jean offered, and he did intended to fix the lack of family visits as well.

“I can’t blame them with what I was convicted of....but that does sound nice Just Jean.” Eren laughed at his own bad joke. “Then just call me Eren.”

Jean groaned but chuckled hearing what Eren said. “Oh you are so original Eren.” Jean now prepared his kit he had with him to get Eren’s DNA. “Now say ahh.” Jean instructed.

Eren did so and Jean got the DNA swab and dropped it in the forensics bag that came with his stuff. He got it all secured and looked up at Eren. “And with that my dear man, I do hope we have what we need to prove your innocence to the courts, and I look forward to working with you more closely in the coming weeks.”

The duo shook hands one last time and Jean left.

The next day hew sent the kit out to be tested and went about gathering the rest of his defenses. He called Eren often and gave him updates, sometimes they just talked about Eren’s family, which seemed to be only the ones who couldn’t visit because of social staus, and his older brother and his family far away, too far to visit, though they also believed him to be innocent. They also spoke about shared interests and the like when there was no updates on the case.

One month later, Jean gave the most heartfelt defense he had ever given and exposed the shortcuts of prosecution fifteen years earlier. When they where done, he sat down in his chair panting.

The next several minutes passed in agony, the judge seemed to be taking his sweet time with making a ruling, but when he returned everyone stood and then sat, now looking to him again for the decision.

“In light of the new evidence brought forth of Eren’s DNA not matching that of the person who murdered Ymir McIntyre, and the fact the star forensic evidence against him is not admissible in court, the court finds Eren Yeager innocent of murder in the first degree and voids his conviction. You have our sincerest apologies Mr.Yeager. Case dismissed.” He then got up and left.

Eren felt his eyes water as he hugged his sister and her husband, his best friend and their kids. However, he turned down there offer to stay with him.

On their way out, Jean stopped him in the parking-lot and looked to him.

“I will not claim to understand why you didn’tgo with your family, but I respect it. However, if you have nowhere to stay, you can come stay with me for awhile.” He offered.

“I would like that.” Eren said getting a bit closer to Jean.

“Yeah...me too.” Jean wasn’t sure what happened next, he just out of the blue kissed Eren. This was perhaps his greatest case yet. And he was happy about that, and maybe he got just a bit more than finding justice for an innocent man.

#erejean week 2020 #erejean week #day 4 #prompt freedom #it got so long i resorted to read more #i think that is a first actually #just damn #eren yeager #jean kirstien

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cultspaced · 5 years

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anon said : mason was royalty right ?? were they like their species equivalent of a prince ? im inch rested in the alien hierarchy . what was that like ? please give ur adoring fans the Lore . unless u don’t want 2 like it’s secret then that’s ok too I love u

oh anon, first of all, i still don’t have fans and secondly, thanks for being invested uwu

just a fair warning, since this is v important to my blog this is gonna get long and won’t go under a cut and i’m sorry if it’s all a mess and not sorted but it’s late and i keep remembering shit that needs to go into this okay .

to get into the lore let’s explore mason’s ( maisaaint’s ) species for a short moment . mason is a so-called AORLUT, a semi-corporal non-gendered species known for hiding their weakest points on a different plane of existence . they are, in the easiest to explain sense, all eldritch horrors with shifting ❛ bodies ❜ that change when necessary and can easily survive as a parasite . however, since everybody hides their weakest parts on a different plane of existence it means these multi-dimensional fuckers all see each other how they actually look all the time, while other creatures only see certain limbs . ( see here for a very vague description of what mason actually looks like and then know their offsprings look like very round squids and this is 100% a baby picture of mason okay )

aorluts are also known for having one of the most complex, impossible to learn and yet efficient languages . it is a mix of clicking, whistling, something that sounds like high pitched screeching and underwords ( which i have explained here but is basically up to three words spoken at the very same time . ) this language is absolute bullshit to anyone hearing it but makes communication extremely quick and leaves no room for wrong interpretations . ( something mason can’t keep up in english but since they already have to talk slowed down, they find joy in deliberately talking around the truth esp concerning their own heritage . )

lastly, about the species, not all of them are touch telepathic & empathic . mason in that regard is an absolute outliner since their ability is not just rare but also stronger than with most of those blessed / cursed with it . most aorluts with touch empathy are usually just able to skim surface emotions using parts of their bodies where the nerves are concentrated the most, whereas mason ( royalty ) doesn’t just rely on their most sensitive body parts but can literally feel what other aorluts would feel with every inch of their being . as a human that translated to their most sensitive bits of skin and not skin allowing them to jump right into someone’s mind . ( they could do a lot of damage in there if they really wanted ; see william for example even tho that was just a stress-related accident . )

next up : the home planet . it technically doesn’t have a name like earth is earth but instead has a category and every aorlut will just call it by that category ( or alternatively : home ) . MSR, pronounced every letter on its own and best said as underwords, is a hugely nebulous & mostly water-covered planet with flat buildings that stretch across the land and then go far & deep into the sea . since aorluts are multi-dimensional, breathing underwater or in any non-ideal environment is really not an issue and therefore their architecture is mostly focused on building structurally sound houses instead of checking that life can exist in these sometimes extreme circumstances . in a way, this is a defence mechanism towards strangers but also is just to some degree based on their long history of isolation and not having connected to other species even though they could have made contact a long time ago .

moving on : mason is in fact space royalty and was supposed to be the next in line for the throne . msr is governed by a monarchy with democratic influences . the royals cannot be voted and are either born into the bloodline or adopted if their abilities are seen to be amongst royal levels but their decision can be overthrown if the majority of the population is for or against something . that being said, the monarchy wasn’t just responsible for their ❛ country ❜ but had a hand in all the planets businesses and the parts of the quadrant they owned . in case anyone is wondering, no, they didn’t go around willy nilly fighting and claiming parts of space but in fact mostly just protected themselves when under fire, bought ❛ property ❜ off of poorer civilisations and on one memorable occasion, won a big chunk of their quadrant in a game of poker . ( it is somewhat unfair to play poker when your opponent can only see your tentacles but really that’s on them for even trying . )

so yes, in every sense of aorlut tradition, mason is royalty . they’re both born into the bloodline and would've been taken up anyways for their strong telepathic & empathic abilities since in aorlut culture knowledge about others is considered one of the most valuable things . ( spoilers here : mason isn’t too keen on invading other people’s mind’s but can’t imagine living without the constant buzzing of being able to feel someone else’s surface emotions in their head . )

anyways, yes mason is the space equivalent of a prince/ ss with a shit ton of power and was raised as such but found there to be no adjustment period at all upon landing on earth . after all, they had other things they needed to prioritise above being treated like a monarch and by the time that was sorted they had learned the word dude and knew about the comfort of old hoodies and they haven’t looked back at their royal comforts ever since .

since the lifespan of an aorlut is rather vague even for themselves, nobody ever really knows when exactly an aorlut will stop existing safe for starting to anticipate it around a certain age . ( as it’s customary for the eldest to just wake up one day and know it’s time if they want to go . ) however, since the species is multi-dimensional ageing is a weird thing and once an aorlut is no longer considered a child they’ll start to look like something weirdly between a young adult or a middle-aged dad until the day they die . death for an aorlut btw isn’t bad, it’s simply them pulling themselves fully onto a plane of existence ❛ living ❜ aorluts can’t follow ( according to the belief ) and it’s, therefore, more socially acceptable to just vanish than die amongst loved ones or on the battlefield .

anyways back to the drama : mason knew they were about to inherit the throne but couldn’t pinpoint when exactly it was supposed to happen and as the one directly in line for it, there was no doubt with anyone that maisaaint rl'flem would soon be the next monarch . yet, greed and envy are concepts older than humanity and can be found in many many other species, such as mason’s for example . this is btw where the google doc picks up, a coup was staged ( mostly against mason ) and injured, with a broken ship and their pets, they just about managed to escape . this proved for those against the monarchy that mason, although extremely powerful in their telepathy ( to unknown levels ), wasn’t fit to be a leader since they didn’t see this coming . in a way, however, mason knew this would happen which is the only reason they actually managed to get out alive .

hurt and betrayed, mason crash landed their broken ship on earth and just knew that their family had been eradicated . they were in pure agony physically and mentally when encountering william and trying to read his mind, which is then also the first time they realised the full extent of their powers and understood they could’ve defended themselves with but a few touches .

back home on msr, the news of the vanished heir spread extremely quickly and most people just assumed mason, like their family, had retreated to the other plane of existence, leaving the monarchy fallen and, surprisingly, allowing for the rise of a purely democratic new government .

#˹ * ⋆ ˎˊ ⟷ & meta ˼#long post #okay my brain is mush #turns out formatting was a vibe check in its own #my vibes are v exhausted rn

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solaetis-moved-blog · 5 years

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CASTER (MEDEA) HEADCANON AND PORTRAYAL SUMMARY DUMP

Just a rundown of all the myth & canon interpretations I follow! I do not stick with one version alone. I mix them and take what for me makes the most sense for the character of Medea that I know of.

For Fate/Stay Night roleplayers, I can write her in any route. I will go along the with the route of your muse 'cause I'm flexible like that. I can play her at any canon point in Fate/Hollow Ataraxia as well.

For Fate/Grand Order roleplayers, all routes in Fate/Stay Night are sort of canon for my Medea. This doesn't mean all of it happened to this specific incarnation, just that she has recollections of all the events that transpired during the fifth war including the bad endings.

More info below!

She learned Magecraft through the Moon Goddess Hecate and from her aunt the Goddess Circe, who was also a disciple of Hecate.

She was very close to Circe and respects and admires her in great amounts and was always her ideal vision of a true witch.

Medea, in truth, is not really a witch. She is skilled in Magecraft, but it did not make her one. Her title as a witch is only granted to her as an attempt to berate and demean her for having magic powers.

She was cursed by Aphrodite to fall in love with Jason under Hera’s orders.

She was very to devoted to the Greek Gods despite not being Greek herself which earned her a place in Elysium where she was said to have eventually married Achilles. She has no memories of her life in Elysium as a Servant.

Medea is Colchian and not Greek. This makes her an Asian woman.

She has utmost respect towards Heracles for the time she spent with him and the Argonauts. He also gave her a place to stay when she had nowhere else to go in exchange of healing Hera's curse upon him.

Because Medea was not Greek, she was often shunned, if not envied, by those around her. After Jason, there was nowhere she could return to. There was no place left that will accept her.

Theseus was with the Argonauts, but he was young at that time and Medea did not recognize him when they met once again, this time in Athens and she became Aegeus' wife.

Aegeus didn't know that Theseus was his son and wanted him dead for his powers were a threat to Aegeus' position as a King. For Medea, who bore him a son, Aegeus learning Theseus' birth right was a threat to her son Medus.

Medea tried to poison Theseus after he returned successful in his quest to capture the Marathonian Bull. But Aegeus' realized that Theseus was his son due to his sword and sandals and knocked back the cup of poisoned wine. Medea fled afterwards with Medus.

There is no consistent depiction of how Medea's life has ended, so I have mixed some interpretations I've read.

When Medea fled Athens, her son Medus was exiled and he returned to Colchis only to find out that King Aeetes was murdered by his brother.

Medus was then captured by King Perses so that there was no one who could challenge his claim to the throne. Medea, having heard this, returned to Colchis to free her son. She deceived Perses and made Medus the King. She died of old age, grieving still.

My Medea did not kill her children. The Corinthians killed her children, but because she found the bodies first and have been caught by Jason holding them, she was accused of their murder.

Her Fate incarnation knows that she killed them to hurt Jason as a result of her lore being bastardized, but she has no recollections of doing so. She simply believes this because it's what's installed in her Spirit Origin.

Her hatred is not restricted to Jason alone, but towards the world who had betrayed her without an end. Still, majority of her agony is a product of his actions.

My interpretation of Medea is heavily focused on this. It plays a huge role in how I write her, so she's not as chill as she is in canon.

Medea's hatred towards Aphrodite and Jason is clear.

Being told that she was coerced to fall in love with Jason mocks her for it was the only thing she had left of value. She also believes it takes away the responsibility behind the cruel acts she made because of her love for him.

If Medea has to acknowledge that she fell in love with Jason because of Aphrodite, that would mean that she cannot take responsibility for her crimes. So she does not, for she knows to herself that she committed vile acts of her own volition.

Her acknowledging her crimes and knowing it is wrong is her only proof that her love for Jason was real and not manipulated through celestial means. She did them because she wanted to be useful and she truthfully loved him.

My Medea despises Berserker!Heracles because his existence disrespects the hero that he used to be. She thinks he is nothing but a pile of muscle with a face and wants nothing to do with him.

She doesn't acknowledge Jason, Achilles & Perseus as heroes.

She dislikes socializing with men in general, especially the handsome, cunning and eloquent ones. She has learned first hand that sophisticated men aren't to be trusted.

I'm a slut for Medea/Kuzuki, Medea/Women & Medea/Respectful Master.

She helped Jason steal the Golden Fleece in exchange of him agreeing to marry her and he did.

She left Colchis with the Argonauts alongside her brother Apsyrtus, which she cut to pieces and scattered his flesh into the seas to delay the pursuit of her father King Aeetes.

Medea's room in Chaldea is dark and brooding with no signs of modern technology. Even her door can only be opened by dispelling the field that surrounds it. She has various skeleton pets inside of her room that she uses to help her in certain activities such as Myrmekes as cleaners, Alectryon as an alarm clock, Crows for water fetching etc.

Medea named her skeleton creatures after her family members from Colchis as a way to help her cope with the fact that she can never return to them anymore. So when she returns to her room, it signifies "coming home". This is why she considers her room sacred. Should one be given the permission to enter her room in Chaldea, know that it is a heightened level of intimacy for her. Invading it, however, is a high grade insult and thoroughly offensive. She will hate you for it.

Medea makes tea brews that she only shares to a few people. Each are named after certain ties she had in life such as Golden Fleece, Argonautica etc. They range in hundreds that she displays on a large cabinet.

In Fate verse, Atalante was indeed with the Argonauts, making Medea and Atalante the only women to ride the Argo Ship. They've had a very genuine friendship, but parted ways afterwards, Whether or not Atalante retained her respect to Medea when things went downhill is unknown.

SOME RANDOM RAMBLINGS

since erika and i are talking about it... remember when i said that medea's wish is to go home? and her idea of going home is simply not returning to specifically to colchis but to possibly revert the life she had when she decided to leave so medea's idea of "going home" is returning to the time wherein she was still princess of colchis and she never left. if she never left, her relationship with her family will not be compromised. she would have avoided a large scale of tragedy. medea dies as an ambitionless old woman in my interpretation. she had spent her remaining dies waking up, sleeping, monotonously doing her everyday routine. in her every revenge completed, a part of her dies, and she has died completely when everything was over and done with. she wants to use the grail for that. to return to the time where she was most content with herself. as a servant she's incarnated with her hatred of the world being her only pillar to keep on going. medea wants to be a normal person so she's desperate for the grail.

if i have to explain medea's feelings towards aphrodite, eros and hera it's really all too simple? she lamented that they have had a hand in her suffering but medea knows the workings of the gods and there's no law which states that they have to be fair in the first place. one man would wish something from the gods, and another would wish for something which opposes the other. it's always a matter of having to choose who deserves their assistance more and medea accepted that the three favored jason more because he prayed to them the same way hecate, circe and zeus favored her because her prayers for them were stronger and they were medea's revered gods. so yes, medea hates being a tool for gods' entertainment, but not to the point wherein she'd kill one because she still respects them to some degree

#h: caster (medea)

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