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nordleuchten · 3 years

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La Fayette and Emma Willard at the Opera

When Emma Willard was travelling Europe in 1830, she visited General La Fayette in Paris in late 1830. The two were close friends, had already met before and especially Willard had nothing but the purest admiration for La Fayette. In her book Journal and Letters from France and Great-Britain (1833) she re-printed several letters where she told her sister every last detail of her visit. Her letters are unusually engaging in my opinion, because they are so personal. Old letters and journals can sometimes feel very stiff, very old and completely removed from our modern reality – but hers is so lively, so ordinary that I could not help but relate to her during certain passages. Due to Willard’s hero-worship of La Fayette, I was afraid she would put him on a gigantic pedestal – but she paints a very humane picture of the ageing Marquis, one that is actually rather refreshing.

With all of that being said, here is a passage from Emma’s letter to her sister Almira Hart Lincoln Phelps from December 7, 1830:

I must now tell you, how it was that we spent the evening together. It was at the Opera Francais, usually called the Grand Opera. You will remember that he told me he had not been at a theatre since the revolution, and the first time he did go, he would go with me. One evening before had been appointed, and failed from the illness of one of the performers. It was the evening before last that we finally went [December 5]. I expected that the people would have cheered him as he entered. But he was in a citizen's dress, and went with a determination, as it appeared, not to be known.

The two boxes next, and each side the king's, were for the evening taken by the La Fayette family. There are places in each for six persons, two in front, and three deep. The General, Mrs. S-. of Baltimore, (a particular friend of Madame George La Fayette,) two of the General's grand-daughters, Col. C-, an officer of his household, and myself, filled the box to the left of the king's. Mrs. S— and myself were placed in the front seats, notwithstanding our entreaties that the General would take one of them; two of his grand–daughters had the two next, and the General was quite back where it was impossible for any one below to see him. The first piece was an opera, “Le Dieu et la Bayadère.” In this I saw the performance of M’lle Taglioni, the first dancer in the world. Much of this French opera dancing is what it should not be; but of Taglioni, though expected much, yet her performance perfectly astonished me; and I exclaimed in a pas seul, where she seemed divested of terrestrial gravity, and to fly, rather than dance, “this is the sublime of dancing!"

The scenery of the theatre — the splendor of the dresses and decorations — the crowds of actors, all capital in their parts — the perfection of instrumental music displayed by the grand orchestra, who were all so perfect in time, that it was as if one spirit played the numberless instruments — all this was admirable.

After we had been in the theatre about half an hour, an officer entered the box, bowed very low, and presented the General a paper, containing a few lines, written, as I observed, in an elegant hand. He looked rather grave, and perplexed for a moment as he read the paper; then said— “the king has sent for me to come to him. I must go, but I will return.” I begged him not to return on my account, if it would incommode him; but he said he could not consent to lose all the pleasure of the evening. Before he returned, the first piece was over; and those of the La Fayette family, in the other box, came in the interval, to greet us. Their countenances seemed a little shaded, and I though they were uneasy that he had insisted on sitting so far back. Mrs. S-. then took her place behind my chair, and all appeared determined that he should take the front seat, when he returned. Just as they had completed the arrangement, he came in, but he refused to go forward. Mrs. S-. now refused to take the seat, as did the other ladies also, who were in the box with us. Just then the sweet Mathilde La Fayette came from the other box to speak to her grand father. He told her to take the seat; and though she would not for the world have done an impolite thing by voluntarily taking the precedence of older ladies; yet she did not a moment dispute, what she saw was her grand-father's will.

Thus seated and arranged, we went through another dancing piece. It was the ballet pantomime of Manon Lescaut. The scenery and the dresses, represented the court of Louis XV. The stiff bows and curtsies,-- and hoops and trains, and elbow cuffs, -- the frizzed and powdered heads, and enormous head-dresses -- the silk velvet, gold-trimmed, long-skirted coats, and silver embroidered white satin vests,-- the little boys and girls dressed like their fathers and mothers, and curtsying and bowing as stiffly, -- the dancing of minuets -- slow, and graceful, and formal, --it was all pleasing: and the representation was historically true.

Gen. La Fayette was much amused. “Why,” said he, “this is exactly my time!” “Voila ce petit enfant!” exclaimed Mathilde, as a little boy, a sprig of nobility, in a long embroidered coat, and flapped vest, with his hair queued and powdered, appeared upon the stage. Said the General, “I was dressed just so, when I was of that age !” “Just so.”

That piece went off. But I observed that the eyes of the people, were ever and anon, turning towards our box; —and when at another interval, we rose from our seats, as every body did, suddenly there was a shout, “Vive La Fayette! Vive La Fayette!” It resounded again and again, and was echoed and re - echoed by the vaulted roof. In the enthusiasm of the moment, I exclaimed, “you are discovered - you must advance!” – and I handed him over the seats, unconscious at the moment that I was making myself a part of the spectacle. He advanced, bowed thrice, and again retreated — but the cries continued. Then the people called out “la Parisienne! la Parisienne!” You know it is the celebrated national song of the last revolution.

The curtain rose. Nourrit, an actor who, in the former piece had the principal male part, came forward. He was dressed as a Parisian gentleman. His figure was bold, and he bore in his hand an ample standard, which he elevated, waving the tri-colored flag. He had himself, been one of the heroes of the three days. He sung the song in its true spirit, amidst repeated applauses. When he came to the part where it speaks of La Fayette with his white hairs, the hero of both worlds, the air was rent with a sudden shout. I looked at him, and met his eye. There was precisely the same expression as I marked, when we sung to him in Troy; and again I shared the sublime emotions of his soul, and again they overpowered my own. My lips quivered, and irrepressible tears started to my eyes. When the song was over, the actor came and opened the door of the box, and in his enthusiasm embraced him. “You sung charmingly,” said La Fayette. “Ah General, you were here to hear me!” was the reply.

When we descended to leave the theatre, the thronging multitude reminded me of the time, when crowds for a similar purpose assembled in America. The grand opera house is an immense building. In the lower part is a large room, supported by enormous pillars, and used as a vestibule. To this room the crowd had, descended, and here they had arranged themselves on each side of a space, which they had left open for La Fayette, that they might see, and bless him as he passed. There was that in this silent testimonial of their affection, more touching, than the noisy acclaim of their shouts. There was something too, remarkable in the well defined line which bounded the way left open. A dense crowd beyond- not even an intruding foot, within the space, which gratitude and veneration had marked. I can scarcely describe my own feelings. I was with him, whom from my infancy I had venerated as the best of men; whom for a long period of my life I had never hoped even to see in this world. Now I read with him his noble history, in the melting eyes of his ardent nation. And I saw that he was regarded as he is, the father of France- aye, and of America too. America! my own loved land! It was for her sake I was thus honored, and it was for me to feel her share in the common emotion. My spirit seemed to dilate, and for a moment, self- personified as the genius of my country, I enjoyed to the full his triumph, who is at once her father, and her adopted son.

I do not know about you, but her descriptions have drawn me in, just if I had been there at the opera that day. The interactions of the family, the merry entertainment, La Fayette joking about his age and sharing childhood anecdotes, the want for historical accuracy being a think way back in 1830, the people singing their revolutionary song, the people lining up for La Fayette ...

A short clarification, the revolution mentioned in the text is not “the” French Revolution but “a” French Revolution – the July Revolution to be precise (also referred to as the French Revolution of 1830, the Second French Revolution, Trois Glorieuses or Three Glorious Days.) The Revolution saw the forced abdication of Charles X and the ascent of King Louis Philipe I. La Fayette played an important part during these events and many people of the time were of the opinion that King Louis Philipe more or less owned his crown to La Fayette. The revolution was also the reason why this visit with Emma Willard was the first visit to the opera this year for La Fayette. He thought people would think of him as vain were he to seek out a public place where the people would undoubtedly cheer for him (as they did).

#lafayette #la fayette #marquis de lafayette #general lafayette #historical lafayette #charles x #emma willard #1830 #1833 #france #french revolution #french history #american revolution #american history #three glorious days #trois glorieuses #louis philippe i

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 4 years

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FP//you are summer, to my winter heart

Request: if requests are open can i request a fp/reader where you show up once Gladys leaves cause he asks you to help take care of jughead and you two end up together?

hey! i decided to do this as a headcanon because i thought it would be easier to show the development. i hope you still like it!! title is from a poet called gemma troy! i liked it (even though winter is the superior season)

- ‘she’s gone’

- It was the first words you heard when you walked through the front door.

- But you didn’t really need to be told

- You could just tell

- You’ve been in and out of the Jones household countless of times

- And every time you’ve walked in before...its been loud

- On good days when Jughead and Jellybean are playing

- Or bad days when Gladys has called you over to talk some sense into FP.

- You and Fred usually take it in turns to go over

- Either to talk to FP or to take the kids out for a few hours

- But on the 24th of February 2009, for the first time ever, the trailer was silent.

- You looked around, noticing the lack of kids toys, shoes and just general mess

- The lights were off, the curtains drawn and FP leaned against the kitchen counter, barely able to stand up properly.

- As soon as you saw him your heart dropped

- Your arms were around him instantly and he just let go

- His fingers gripping your jacket so tightly you thought he was going to rip a hole in it

- And he just cried

- He cried for what seemed like hours and you just stood there and held him

- Because what else where you supposed to do?

- He was your best friend

- Even if he did have his flaws

- Even if he did scream and shout for no reason

- Or pushed people away when he was too drunk to realize what he was doing

- You were always going to be there for him

- Because who else would be?

- Especially now

- When Jughead emerged from his bedroom, he smiled as soon as he saw you

- And you untangled yourself from FP

- ‘hey jug’ You’d said as cheerily as you could and he sent you a toothy grin back

- ‘y/n, what are you doing here?’

- ‘i came over to hang out with you’

- ‘can we go to the park’

- ‘of course we can. but you need your breakfast first...so what do you want?’

- ‘...pancakes?’ He’d asked nervously and you’d smiled and ruffled his hair

- ‘sure. why don’t you go watch some tv’

- He’d ran off before you even had the chance to finish your sentence

- And the action made you smile a little.

- It seemed he hadn’t noticed yet

- His family had fallen apart and he was worried about missing the Ninja Turtles

- Or if he had noticed it, it hadn’t sunk it properly

- ‘have you told him?’ You’d whispered to FP who just looked at the floor. ‘so no?’

- ‘no.’

- ‘okay.’ You nodded. ‘we’ll tell him together. later on.’

- ‘you don’t have to.’ He’d argued but you just sent him a look

- He’d grown used to that look, and by now he knew not to argue with it.

- ‘thank you’ The sincerity in his voice made you smile softly at him

- ‘but you have to do something for me’

- ‘what?’

- ‘sort your life out’

- And he did

- It took him a while

- And there were a few bumps mountains in the road

- But he eventually did it

- Nothing is ever as easy as they say though

- It was difficult at first

- What isn’t difficult about raising an 8 year old that isn’t yours

- And keeping one of your best friends sober after his wife left and took their daughter with her

- There was a lot of tears, shouting and slamming of doors

- And that was just from FP

- ‘you’re not my mom’ - jughead jones every single time he saw you for a week

- ‘we don’t need your fucking help y/n’ - fp jones every single time he saw you for a week

- But eventually you got the hang of things

- A routine was formed

- You’d drop Jughead off at school before going to work

- FP would pick him up on the way home

- Dinner would be timed perfectly for you coming home

- You’d help Jughead with his homework, always finding a way to make it fun

- You’d spend your evening watching movies either at home or at the drive in

- Or you’d spend hours arguing about what to watch

- Weekends would be spent at Pop’s, or the park or at the river

- And sometimes you’d drive to the beach and have a picnic

- Jughead would always insist that you had to tell him a story before sleep

- ‘because you do the best voices y/n’

- Sometimes you’d read them from books

- Other times they were made up (mostly)

- And FP would always stop outside of the room to listen in for a few minutes

- And when Jughead said he didn’t need a story anymore he was able to quickly put him to bed while you cried on the sofa

- He’d hugged you until the two of you fell asleep

- Only woken up by Jughead asking what was for breakfast

- Some stories he’d recognize from the years before Jughead and Jellybean were born

- They’d be from summers spent together going on adventures despite being in your twenties and thirties

- Others would have just elements of truth in them

- Like when you’d found a suitcase by the river

- But you managed to leave out the fact that it was empty apart from the blood splatter

- You replaced the blood with a portal to another world

- And all of them you made sound magic

- To both Jughead and FP

- And he’d be left wondering what he would ever do without you

- So he would come up with a plan to show just how much they appreciate you

- And so the 7th November was officially made Y/n’s day

- It was kind of like mothers day

- But not

- Jughead would make a Y/n’s day card

- FP would make breakfast for you and then you got to chose what to do for the rest of the day

- You’d also always get a present

- One made by Jughead and another bought by FP

- It was usually always small, but you loved it anyway

- And even after almost ten years, Jughead always still got you a card and FP always bought you a present.

- You’d practically moved in with them within the first year of it all happening

- Sleeping on the pull out sofa in the living room

- It wasn’t that bad after a while

- Although you will always blame it for the permanent sore back you have now

- And eventually everything felt semi-normal

- You were like a little family

- You’d go to parties of friends together

- And you and FP would rarely be seen apart

- Always sat or stood together, talking or laughing at something

- Sometimes and arm would be slung around your shoulder or waist

- New friends or neighbours of the trailer park assumed you to be a proper family

- Assumptions would always be met by awkward laughs and quick mutters of ‘we’re not a couple’

- Over time though you started to notice a change in the way they made you feel

- At first it was sort of funny and a little awkward

- But the more it happened the more you felt your chest tighten when you or FP denied it

- Until you found yourself not denying it, letting FP laugh it off every time

- But despite that small detail

- You worked well together

- Everything seemed to be going well

- Until it happened

- Until FP spiraled and you were left to pick up the pieces

- Looking after a now 15 years old Jughead while his father was in prison and his mom and sister were god knows where.

- Jughead was lost and you could tell

- What 15 year old wouldn’t be

- So you made sure he knew you weren’t going anywhere

- You were always there when he woke up in the morning or came home from school

- You listened when he talked

- Whether it was about his novel or his friends

- And you reassured him his dad would be okay

- Even if he had been arrested for murder

- You’re still there for FP too

- Visiting as often as possible

- Even if you do give him the look every time you see him

- But you promise to help him

- And when he eventually gets out

- Your the first one to hug him

- Wrapping him up in a giant hug that makes both of you feel like you’re home

- Even more so when he hugs you back just as tightly

- Jughead coughs awkwardly and you pull apart

- You shuffle away from him

- Letting them have their own moment before taking them both to Pop’s

- Again it took a while

- But you got your routine back

- And everything went back to normal

- As normal as you can be when you live in Riverdale

- You supported Jughead when he wanted to join the serpents

- And you helped FP get his job so he could support the three of you

- Before his arrest there had been talk of you moving out

- Its not like Jughead needed you anymore

- Not really

- And FP was doing great

- But now, it looks like you were stuck sleeping in the living room still

- Jughead needed stability

- And you and FP needed each other

- It was never said out loud

- Never discussed

- Never so much as briefly mentioned

- But everyone knew the two of you needed each other

- The thought of moving out may have made your back happy

- But that was the only part of you that wanted to

- The rest of you didn’t know what you’d do without him

- And FP was absolutely terrified of the idea of not seeing you every day

- It made his chest tight and his head hurt

- So you stayed

- Until she came back

- Jughead went looking for his mom and sister

- Something you don’t blame him for

- You’d probably do the exact same thing

- But whenever Gladys is around

- There’s trouble

- She may be your friend but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t bring chaos wherever she goes

- Yes, she might have had her reasons to leave

- You don’t blame her for that

- What you do blame her is leaving one child while taking the other

- ‘well isn’t this cozy’

- The familiar voice makes you jump and you watch as FP stands up, eyes wide as he stares at his daughter and estranged wife

- Jughead is also just as shocked, hugging Jellybean tightly

- The ache in your chest returns, and this time no matter how hard you try it stays

- It stays all through the night

- And its still there by morning

- It follows you around wherever you go

- It seems no matter where you are in Riverdale

- Gladys and FP are there

- They both make your heart ache

- But both of them for different reasons

- And its not until you’re lying in bed

- Two weeks after Gladys turned up and essentially kicked you out

- Leaving you to quickly find a trailer to rent

- That you realize whats happened

- You’re in love

- But there’s nothing happy about it

- There’s no magic, sweetness or joy to it

- Its all yearning looks and gloomy thoughts

- Watching a family you used to be apart of from the outside

- She does what you used to

- She should, she is their mom and his wife

- But she’s missed 7 years of their lives

- Seven years that you’ve been there

- You held together, looked after and cleaned up the mess that she left behind

- And the worst thing is

- You know you’ll do exactly the same when she inventively leaves again

- You tried telling FP

- ‘you and gladys together does not work’

- But he just brushed it off

- Happy that his family was back together

- But he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was missing

- Like when a photograph has been folded over

- He knows something’s not right

- He just can’t figure out what it is

- He can

- He knows exactly whats missing

- Its you

- But what’s he supposed to do?

- He can’t bring you back

- Gladys and Jellybean have come back

- They’re happy

- Or at least thats what they’re trying to be

- But there’s a massive crack down the middle of this family

- And there’s not enough glue to fix it

- Its just a matter of waiting

- Waiting for the inevitable to happen

- No matter how much he wills it not to

- Jughead and Jellybean are happy

- Gladys is happy

- But he isn’t so sure its because of him

- And to an extent he’s happy too

- He has his kids back

- He’s got a great job

- And eventually a house

- Even if it is the Coopers

- But he can see you’re unhappy

- And he hates that

- He only ever wants to see you smile

- Its one of his favourite things

- Always has been now he thinks about it

- But he saw you at his party

- You were smiling

- But it wasn’t real

- And every time you see each other you send each other smiles

- But they never reach your eyes.

- Riverdale being Riverdale

- Crazy things always happen

- You hear of a Griffins and Gargoyles being played again

- And remember when you would play

- Remember what happened to your friends

- And to The Midnight Club

- FP telling you all about it one night after Jughead had gone to bed

- Those nights seem so far away

- You suppose they are really

- You make sure to tell Jughead to stay away from it

- Not wanting him to have to go through anything that you or his parents did.

- And then there’s the robbery at Pop’s

- And suddenly FP’s in hospital and you find yourself giving him the look when you visit him

- He smiles

- Despite the trouble and pain he’s in

- Because you being here eases both of those things

- It doesn’t last long though

- FP is arrested and you’re sent home

- Its not until a few days later do you find yourself walking into the Jones’ residence again

- ‘she’s gone’ FP says, sat at the dining table with his head in his hands

- ‘i know’ You say, sitting beside him and grabbing his hand.

- ‘have you come to say i told you so?’ He looks at you sadly and you just shake.

- ‘no. i’m here to help.’

- ‘thank you.’

- ‘what are friends for?’

- The word stings, but it needs to be said

- No matter how you feel about him

- You’re still his friend

- So you do what you do best

- You fix

- And after a while you have a routine again

- It takes a while

- But eventually everyone gets used to each other

- And its normal-ish

- You still listen to Jughead talk about his novel

- You’re the only person he really talks about it with

- And you help Jellybean with her homework

- You take her shopping at the weekend

- And listen to her when she tells you about whatever drama is going on in her class

- You and FP take it in turns to cook dinner

- The other one always washes up

- You still feel the ache in your chest every so often

- But it’s not as strong

- Because you see each other every day

- You’re back together

- Where you should be

- Even if it is platonic

- Well, up until he kisses you before you go home

- He walks you to the front door as usual

- Offering you a lift which you always politely decline

- And just as you’re about to leave

- He grabs your arm gently, spinning you around and kissing you softly

- It takes you by surprise

- Your eyes widen at first and he panics, starting to pull away

- But when you fingers grip his arms

- The dark fabric bunching together as you pull him closer

- And you kiss him back

- A lot more force that he had

- He knows he hasn’t messed up

- He knows he made the first right decision in about 7 years

- Because when your arms wrap around him he knows he’s home

#fp #fp imagine #fp x reader #fp x you #fp jones #fp jones imagine #fp jones x reader #fp jones x y/n #riverdale #riverdale imagine

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obeymeluv · 4 years

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Cupid’s Bow - Asmodeus

This is what I needed the love songs for :) The song lyrics are in bold/italic. I used “Something So Beautiful” by Yongzoo, and it’s super cute. I think you should listen to it at least once!

Have a sappy, magical confession!

I hope you like it! It’s my first major Asmo piece :o

RAD was in an absolute uproar. This week was a literal once-a-year event and Asmo wouldn’t miss out. He couldn’t! That would just be heartbreaking to the general public, honestly. The fifth-born was up almost inconceivably early—earlier than his routine usually demanded! It pained him to be anything less than perfect but he could forgive himself this once (his skin was to die for on any day, makeup or not).

Rumor had it that Diavolo bought enough Cupid’s Bow for the entire academy but Asmodeus wouldn’t leave it to chance. These blossoms were one of the most finicky breeds in all of the Devildom, sought out for their magical properties and uncanny ability to detect soulmates. They were nurtured meticulously, religiously bred, and highly regarded for the enchanting aroma they emitted when they bloomed.

If they bloomed.

Though rare, some poor souls never got theirs to open and had to wait another year. That’s why Asmo never purchased one in his hundreds of years alive. Some small part of him, the part that worried he’d never find true love due to the burden and weakness of being the Avatar of Lust, was always afraid he’d end up with a lump of heart-shaped petals. He’d rather have fun in the moment, fill the desirous ache with teeth and tongues and Demonus.

Despite the ungodly hour and the fact that he flew over, there were easily forty people between him and the stacks of flowers. He couldn’t bring himself to admire the flowered vines crawling up the stand and supporting the sign, or how RAD seemed to be a bit greener as if to set the mood. Asmodeus’ lips twisted up in a grateful smile as he thanked whatever luck existed in the Devildom that no one felt like talking. Sure, there were murmurs of ‘perfect spots’ and who so-and-so planned to give the flower to, but he refused to hear any of it right now.

He couldn’t, really. His heart was in a giddy flutter, bouncing against his ribs and stirring up the warmth that made standing in the early morning chill of the Devildom more bearable.

The rose hit his hand and Asmo gripped it like his life depended on it. His first instinct was to jet back to the house but the sheer delicacy of the bud was enough to stop him in his tracks. The realization of its frailness, the fact that he’d only get one, lanced across him like a celestial blade.

It made him flinch, and he was surprised to feel it. His hand shook around the thorn-studded stem. Asmodeus calmed his wildly beating heart with a single breath, charming his way out of the line. His red-yellow eyes could just make out the House of Lamentation in the distance.

Now, how to offer it to you?

Human world soil had long since lost the ability to grow Cupid’s Bow. He wasn’t sure if it was a lack of magical caretakers, the inability to enchant the soil, or the fact that the human world no longer supported magic. No one on earth seemed to know what the Cupid’s Bow was anymore. The idea of presenting flowers to loved ones—and the fact that flowers had meanings—was all that remained of the tradition (centuries of bad translations, destroyed books, and eroded pictograms didn’t help anything.)

This was something you’d see once in your life (unless the exchange program was renewed and you came back next year!) It had to be special. As the Avatar of Lust and leading expert on anything relationship related, Asmodeus would be doing you a disservice if he didn’t plan the perfect reveal!

But what if it didn’t open when he handed it to you? He couldn’t bear the thought! Asmodeus had been in absolute agony—nearly sick—about how to confess to you. Had been for a while. Part of him was worried he was reading into things, seeing what he wanted to see, but another part of him knew that you felt the same way.

He could prove it with a pact but didn’t want to cheat like that. Pacts allowed the bonded pair to share emotions; if he stayed on the bond plane long enough your emotions would become his own. Asmodeus would get an idea of your innermost feelings. As tempting as the idea was, he didn’t want to risk the gaping, cold nothingness he’d surely feel if you considered him anything but someone you loved romantically. Several of his brothers were surprised to hear he hadn’t made a pact with you yet, but he always gave the same excuse of Solomon being demanding.

Asmodeus had been alive for a long time, and his list of lovers was even longer. Being the Avatar of Lust meant he spent a fair time courting and every date he’d been on was unique. He’d never repeated a date (not every detail, at least). This would be no exception. He slipped into the House of Lamentation, Cupid’s Bow held out at arm’s length so it would be the first thing to enter the protections.

That wouldn’t protect it from one of his brothers but it was away from the outside and that’s what mattered. Silverware tinkled in the distance, Beelzebub and Lucifer setting the table for breakfast. Should he hand it to you at breakfast, when everyone was present and make them absolutely sick with jealousy?

Very, very tempting! Then he could brag about it to the school! Maybe even get picked up by Majolish! After all, it would be crazy rare to have one of the two exchange students as his fated betrothed. To know would set him free and give him bliss he hadn’t experienced since his first feeding as the Avatar of Lust, but was it really good enough?

Couples shared their Cupid’s Bow stories for centuries, passing it down like a family heirloom. An impatient breakfast proposal seemed very lackluster, given his reputation. He’d been torturing himself for months, what was one more day? Asmodeus hadn’t even realized he’d started up the stairs towards your room until Lucifer squeezed gently on his wrist, stopping him in his tracks.

“You’re bleeding,” the eldest frowned. Something was clearly amiss if perfect Asmodeus was letting himself bleed. The prick of pain turned into a burrowing sting as he looked at the thorn embedded in his palm. Drops of blood ran along the lines of his soft hand and down his wrist. Lucifer didn’t have to ask what was wrong, the flower was enough of an answer. He was fairly certain it was the first time Asmodeus had bought one to give out but he dared not say it.

Lucifer could already see the ideas spinning in Asmodeus’ eyes. His little brother’s eyes grew pinker, an enchanting, luminous pink that was love itself. Their eyes tended to lose the gradient when swept up in the emotion of their sin. When it came to you, love and lust were the same for Asmodeus. The charm literally hummed in Asmodeus’ veins; Lucifer could feel it pulsing in his wrist.

It was a persistent, almost anxious feeling. One begging him to bound up the stairs and into your room. To throw himself at your feet or into your arms and all that you were. “Smaller ambitions are still noble,” Lucifer cautioned as he ran his thumb across the wound to lay a thin sheet of healing magic. Asmodeus could hardly remember when Lucifer last touched him without gloves, heart stuttering at the comforting but nervous squeeze.

Asmodeus was very much a ‘go big or go home’ type, and he knew Lucifer was afraid of him falling too far. They had fallen too far once, and it cost them dearly. Some of them had never really healed. He was afraid of that, himself.

The grand vision of you in a diaphanous dress of his own design, sitting pretty on a picnic blanket before a Devilgram-worthy spread of delicate treats as he presented the rose was dashed by cold dread. Suddenly the idea of waking you up from a dream wasn’t so bad. He wouldn’t be out a lot of money and he could wallow in shame from the comfort of his room if things went wrong.

It won’t go wrong, something soothed him. It swept throughout his body, a strangely familiar tide. Some omnipotent whisper…the remains of something he’d lost when he fell from the Celestial Realm. Emboldened, Asmodeus swept up the stairs and knocked on your door.

He felt like he was floating. Maybe he was just light-headed from holding his breath? Asmodeus heard your sleepy invitation, opening the door to see you twisted in the sheets and struggling to sit up. His heart broke free of the stranglehold, bumping up to his tongue and shaking the knot loose. Asmodeus poured his heart out.

A genuine, soft ramble. An honest soliloquy. It was like the first record of love itself, something that would leave Helen of Troy, Guinevere, and Cleopatra wanting. The sheer joy of your undivided attention almost caused him to bite his tongue. Somehow, he persisted. “People think that I cannot love, being the Avatar of Lust, and I spent centuries believing them. Living up to the expectation of flings and everything lust means…it wasn’t until I met you that I knew I was capable of love. Real love.”

You were so red you thought you’d pass out. Asmo gave you a dazzling smile and you were surprised to see he had dimples. “As a token of this love, I ask that you take this flower. It is a flower borne from the seeds of fate itself.” Asmodeus held the rose out to you, turning it slightly so you’d grab a thorn-free piece.

He didn’t know if he wanted to explode or puke.

All he really wanted was for you to grab the damn flower (and see it open).

“What is it?” your nail scraped the stem. You hesitated, not knowing if you could trust it. Was it really just a flower? Would it bite you? Asmodeus wanted to whine, to shove it into your hand. It wouldn’t react if you didn’t grab it for real!

At some point he’d dropped to one knee. Was it to stop the shaking or even out the height difference? “Cupid’s Bow,” Asmodeus fluffed his bangs and brushed them to the side, “Fate’s Flower. This flower blooms once a year, lasts for a week, and only opens when given to you by your soulmate.”

Could he love you so deeply? Flowers say a lot, but to think one like this existed!

“Take it,” he insisted with twinkling eyes, almost begging. “Take it and see that I love you.”

You grabbed the flower, fingers bumping and brushing Asmodeus’. His lips skated across your knuckle. A gasp escaped you as the flower unfurled into several rows of dainty, heart-shaped petals. The flower opened into a gradient of blood red, vibrant orange, and delicate peach. Asmodeus squealed with delight, scooping you up in a whirl of limbs and love.

He pressed you close, cradled your adoringly.

A warbling growl-screech followed. You could feel the sound bouncing in his chest but couldn’t quite hear it. It was something only a demon’s tongue could make, a sound meant for non-humans.

“Red for love and beauty,” Asmo’s kisses were hungry and sloppy. Your brain was so numbed by the onslaught you could barely hear him; you tasted the smile on his lips and it made your heart sing. “Orange for desire and fascination, because you are unlike any other my lips have touched.” your back hit the bed; Asmo knocked a shuddering breath out of you as he pressed kisses to your throat. “And peach for appreciation. Sealing the deal, if you will…” he said the last part with a purr.

Your body throbbed, the wash of euphoria dimming to an expectant pulse when he took his lips away. His tail flicked behind him excitedly, horns casting shadows on your face as the tips glowed a pinkish-red. He laced your fingers together, the flower trapped between them.

Darling, come on over and take my hand. I will show you that I'm you're man. Is that okay?

Never-ending, I'm extending both of my arms and my heart belongs to you

What a sight, what a view when I'm looking at you! Like I'm seeing the sky for the very first time, and I want you to know that I've never seen something so beautiful!

“Is that…music?”

“Cupid’s Bows are supposed to make for the perfect moment!” Asmo winked at you, his free hand slipping under your back to hold you close. “This is the song of your soul…the song that represents what you feel for your partner. The fragrance is something unique to each person, a smell that makes them happy. Some historians think it’s the original love chemical!” he gushed.

“That’s highly debated, of course.” Asmodeus looked over his shoulder to see Satan and the others standing in the doorway. Right…he used the ‘announcement’ noise. He hadn’t meant for them to crash this moment, he was just so excited when the flower opened that it slipped out!

Asmo rolled over in a slow, fluid motion and sat up with a smug smile. “The human is mine!” he cheered, absolutely glowing as you showed them the open flower. It was met with various reactions and he ate that up, too.

Lucifer smirked, fixing his cuff and glove with an interested look. “Lord Diavolo will enjoy this news, I’m sure.”

“A merger is a merger, however it happens. I doubt he intended to bond the realms this way.” Satan rubbed his chin.

“A merger? What are you—”

“Those flowers are like the Devildom version of a wedding ring. An eternal promise.” Satan explained. “It’s hard to find people who don’t get married after a Cupid’s Bow opens for them.”

“Married?!”

“Married!” Asmo breathed dreamily, taking a photo he would cherish for the rest of his life. The flower would wilt and turn black in a week but he would remember it forever. He shooed everyone out to help you get ready for school, holding your hands in his when all was said and done. Asmo gazed upon you reverently, kissing your forehead. “I love you always.”

#Asmodeus x Reader #Obey Me!#Obey Me! x Reader #Asmo x Reader

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hood-ex · 4 years

Text

I know DC won’t do a good job addressing Dick’s issues post-amnesia arc, sooo I decided to go ahead and write a lil fix-it fic where Dick talks to Clark about how the batfam treated him as Ric.

Read on AO3

Summary:

“Pretty much everyone has. Missed the old me, I mean,” he says distantly, incapable of keeping the bitterness from bleeding into his tone.

Unfortunately for him, Clark’s emotionally intelligent enough to pick up on it.

“I miss you every day, no matter what name you go by,” Clark says, jostling him slightly.

Dick leans further away from him so he can look Clark in the eyes. Clark’s expression is as genuine as ever, blue eyes roaming over Dick’s face in concern.

Dick’s throat feels tight. “If that’s true… why did you never come see me? Why didn’t you try to help me?”

Dick finds himself sitting on the ledge of a building in Metropolis one Tuesday night in July.

He’s in the midtown district that’s a halfway point between the downtown and suburb area. It’s always been Dick’s favorite part of Metropolis other than Clark’s apartment.

Most of the businesses in this area are family-owned. They’re decorated with fresh coats of white paint, green plants, pretty lights, and handpicked decor that gives each place it’s own unique feel. It’s the type of place where the owners know you by name and bend over backwards to get you what you’re looking for.

It’s that personal connection that Dick loves the most. It gives the whole place a very welcoming and homey vibe that reminds him a lot of the circus. It’s nothing at all like the fake illusion of community that holds Bludhaven together like an overused piece of scotch tape.

The only downside is that it’s a little too humid for his liking, but the warm breeze that keeps ghosting through his hair makes it bearable. Plus, the fairy lights that are strewn between a lot of the restaurants across from where he’s sitting are mesmerizing to look at. They make it easy to forget about things like the weather.

Dick wishes the restaurants were still open at this time of night. The longer he eyes the Mexican restaurant down the street, the more his stomach starts to rumble insistently. He hasn’t eaten anything since lunch and he’s starving. A few tacos and some salsa would really do wonders for his mood.

Dick crosses his arms over his increasingly loud stomach.

“Sh!” he hisses at it in the same way he hisses at his teammates when they’re being too rowdy.

He clenches his fingers in the fabric of his shirt and lets out a shaky breath, chest feeling too tight for comfort.

Teammates. Friends. Right. He had those once.

He doesn’t want to think about that. About his friends. Or what’s left of them, anyways.

He came here to forget about that stuff. To forget about everything that happened to him in Bludhaven. The destruction of Gotham and his family. The loss of...

“Shit.”

Dick forces the image of Alfred’s smiling face out of his mind. He already cried about Alfred this morning. And yesterday. And the day before that. And a lot of days before that.

He’s tired of crying. Tired of feeling like he’s a stupid piece of Swiss cheese that’s got too many holes in it. Too many pieces missing. He’s just…

So tired.

Dick threads his fingers through his hair and pulls it back out of his face. The more he soaks in the tranquil atmosphere of the street, the more he feels like disrupting it by screaming into the night. He won’t do it, though. It may be Troy Bolton’s style, but it sure isn’t his.

“Thought I recognized your voice.”

Dick looks up, not all that surprised to see Clark gliding down towards him in his Superman gear. Clark’s eyes are warm and friendly, just like how they always are whenever it’s just the two of them. Dick’s glad that at least that hasn’t changed.

“Supes,” he says, sporting a genuine smile. “Long time no see.”

Clark returns the smile easily and floats closer until they’re face to face. He holds out his blue-clad arms in invitation.

Dick feels himself hesitate for a split second. He’s never been hurt by those hands. By a lot of other hands, sure. But never Clark’s.

He dives forward and wraps both his arms around Clark’s shoulders, pressing his cheek into the crook of Clark’s warm neck. Clark hums in happiness and returns the embrace, leaning his head against Dick’s.

Clark is bigger than Dick. Always has been. Getting hugs from him feels like being engulfed by an impenetrable teddy bear. It’s… nice. Feels safe.

Dick likes feeling safe.

It takes a long, long time before either of them pulls away. And even when Clark moves to sit on the ledge, he stills keeps his arm around Dick’s shoulders, pulling Dick close into his side.

Dick lets Clark take all of his weight, and he sighs in relief, feeling the tension drain out of his shoulders.

“I don’t mean to get all mushy on you,” Clark says through a laugh that sounds a little too wet. A little too fake. “But I’ve really missed you.”

And just like that, Dick suddenly feels cold inside. Detached. Like he has to shut his emotions off before he explodes.

He’s heard that same sentence uttered by his family ever since he got his memories back. Part of him understands what they mean. They were emotionally attached to Dick Grayson, not the person he became after he got his brains scrambled. Obviously, they would miss who he used to be.

The other part of him, the more fragile part, feels rejected by them. Because for a period of time, Ric was all he ever was. The only thing he ever knew. The only thing he could be. And his family rejected that part of him. They didn’t want him around unless he was the person they knew.

Even Babs, who had been there when he was learning how to walk again, only showed up in Bludhaven to try and get him to remember who he was before the accident. She didn’t want to support him as Ric. She wanted what was best for her, not what was best for him.

Dick still remembers every detail from those days. It’s not easy for him to forget how his family tried to make him step back into his old life rather than help him move forward into a new one.

Even though he’s had his memories back for a few weeks now, he’s still not over it. He’s not sure he’ll be over it for a long time, if ever.

Clark’s arm suddenly tightens around Dick even more. Shit. Dick must have spaced out. He does that a lot more now these days. That, and he gets really intense headaches a few times a week. Side effects from brain damage and all that.

“Pretty much everyone has. Missed the old me, I mean,” he says distantly, incapable of keeping the bitterness from bleeding into his tone.

Unfortunately for him, Clark’s emotionally intelligent enough to pick up on it.

“I miss you every day, no matter what name you go by,” Clark says, jostling him slightly.

Dick leans further away from him so he can look Clark in the eyes. Clark’s expression is as genuine as ever, blue eyes roaming over Dick’s face in concern.

Dick’s throat feels tight. “If that’s true…why did you never come see me? Why didn’t you try to help me?”

Dick knows it’s not fair to ask that to Superman of all people. Clark can’t save everybody. He can’t be everywhere at once taking care of other people’s problems, especially when things have been so crazy lately with his own son and all the hero deaths...

Fuck. He’s got tears burning in the corners of his eyes now. He refuses to let them fall. Refuses to let himself crumble when he’s spent weeks trying to put himself back together.

“I visited you once while you were in the hospital,” Clark admits with a color of remorse. “Bruce didn’t think it was a good idea for anyone to come see you once you woke up.”

Bruce. Typical.

“He told us you were having a hard time adjusting. Said you didn’t want to be around your family and friends.” Clark eyes him closely. “I’m guessing it’s more complicated than that, isn’t it?”

Dick’s laugh falls flat. “Isn’t it always when it involves Bruce?”

“Touché.”

Dick pulls part of Clark’s cape into his lap and rubs the fabric between his fingers. He’s been sitting up here for way too long. He can’t help but fidget under Clark’s arm.

“You know what he did the first day I got home from the hospital?” Dick asks, focusing on the cape instead of Clark’s gaze. “I didn’t even have time to change out of my hospital gown before Alf—they shuffled me down to the batcave.”

He remembers how confused he’d been at that time. How awestruck he was at the very idea that he apparently grew up in a mansion with a butler. It didn’t make sense to him back then. Not when he only had a few select memories from the circus days and nothing else.

“Imagine my surprise when a man in a bat costume greeted me by jumping down from the goddamn rafters.”

He feels Clark’s stare burning into the side of his head.

“He did not,” Clark says in a tone that’s part disbelief and part oh my fucking god my best friend is a moron.

“Yup,” Dick says with a pop. “Right after that, I was treated to a video of me getting my brains blown out.”

Clark’s mouth drops open in shock. “What the hell?”

“My thoughts exactly. I booked it out of there and never went back.”

“He can’t just… why would he…?”

“Listen, I’m just happy to know that you’re acting like this isn’t normal. Everyone else was perfectly fine with it, and I thought there was something wrong with me for thinking it was insane to watch one of the most traumatic experiences of my life fresh out of the hospital.”

Clark groans and rubs his hands over his face. “Jesus Christ. There’s nothing wrong with you . Bruce on the other hand…”

“A real piece of work,” Dick nods in agreement. “He wanted me to be the same as I was before a bullet snatched my entire life away from me. Everyone did. That’s why they showed me that video, and that’s why I didn’t want to be around anyone I knew. They were only interested in getting me to remember stuff I had no chance of remembering. Shit sucked.”

And it still does. It really, really sucks.

Clark takes a second to process all that. “I can’t even imagine… I’m really sorry, Dick. Really, I am.”

Dick finally raises his head to lock eyes with Clark. He almost does a double-take when he realizes how upset Clark looks with his furrowed brows and deep frown.

“I didn’t know all that was going on. If I had, I would’ve checked on you even if Bruce didn’t want me to. Even if you didn’t want anything to do with me at that point, I still should have tried. I could’ve at least pestered Bruce into helping you more. I never was very good at trying to fix things between you two, though.”

Dick smiles sadly. “No, I guess not. That’s not part of your job description anyways.”

Clark squeezes the back of Dick’s neck. “It’s my job as your friend to give him a kick in the ass for you. How about that?”

“I think I could get behind that. Just… go easy on him, alright? He’s been dealing with a lot of shit lately.”

Clark gives him a pointed look. “You’re his kid. Your health and safety should have been his priority. Not getting your memories back. He needs to know that.”

“I know, I know,” Dick grumbles and crosses his arms. “I just think that with everything that’s happened recently, he’s not going to give you an explanation you’ll be satisfied with. There’s a lot of things he’s lost control of, and honestly, catching the third degree from you probably won’t register with him in a good way right now.”

Clark whistles short and low. “Even when he’s the one in the wrong, you’re still looking out for him. You amaze me Dick Grayson. Always have. You mind if I start sending Jon your way? I think he could learn a thing or two from you. ”

Dick feels his cheeks get hot at the praise. When he was younger, he always felt like a million bucks whenever Clark complimented him. Brain damage or no, that still hasn’t changed.

“From me? I’ve got nothing on you.”

“Hey, don’t talk about my favorite hero like that,” Clark says, booping Dick on the nose.

Even though Clark is probably just teasing him, Dick can’t help but soak in the happiness at the very idea of it.

“And don’t worry about Bruce’s problems right now,” Clark says, voice taking on a concerned tone once again. “If he needs help… I’ll do my best to help him. But I’m still going to talk to him about all of this because he needs to hear it.” Clark’s blue eyes are so intense that Dick almost looks away from him. “You just focus on yourself, alright?”

Dick wants to laugh at that because he’s so tired of thinking about himself. He spent practically an entire year having an identity crisis as Ric, and now that he has all of his memories back, he feels lost all over again. It’s like a rollercoaster he can’t get off of.

“Thanks,” he says anyway, because what the hell else is he supposed to say?

Clark claps him on the back, and just like that, the atmosphere suddenly feels lighter.

Dick feels lighter too. Kind of. Maybe it’s just the humidity making him feel a certain way.

“You know,” Clark says as he peels himself off the ledge and starts floating, “Lois cooked up a mean lasagna earlier. We still have half a pan left. Think you’d be interested in finishing it off with me?”

Dick’s stomach growls at the mention of food. He’s had hunger pain for hours now, and he can feel it reaching a peak. Even if Clark had just asked him to eat a seasoned rat, his answer still would’ve been the same.

“Hell yeah.”

He pulls himself to his feet and jumps forward, knowing that even if he’s uncertain about everything else in his life, the one thing he can rely on is that Clark will catch him.

And he does.

#Dick Grayson #Clark Kent #Nightwing #amnesia #hurt/comfort #my fic

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livlepretre · 3 years

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So we’ve established that Klaroline was set up horribly and never made much sense—plus it totally wrecked Tyler’s storyline, but were there any other ships you thought were ooc or done very poorly? Or any ships you wanted to see or thought had good potential? I still wish the show was willing to admit what was really happening with Klefan in the 20s...

Well, first off, I agree with you about Klefan with the power of a thousand burning suns. It’s so very very very clear that Klaus and Stefan were ALSO involved, and that they were involved in a messy ménage à trois with Rebekah. That detail makes Klaus insisting on Stefan going with him that summer so much more potent-- like, of course Klaus wants Stefan there, of course it’s this bizarre messed up power dynamic where they were definitely sleeping together that summer but Stefan has no idea that he and Klaus have a history, he’s just high and angry and depressed and this force of nature has entered his life and knows just exactly how to get him off?? And the angst that would cause with his reunion with Elena-- the idea that they had true love, but probably less than a month after he leaves with Klaus, he’s sleeping with him? Devastating. The fact that Klaus is so jealous over Stefan, the way that Stefan goes after him like an angry ex in season 3? Fantastic. I love this ship. I approach TVD as though this is canon because honestly it has to be?? The subtext is basically vibrating so hard it reads as just plain text.

This also brings up the thing about Klaus calling Stefan “brother”-- Klaus has a weird incest thing to him. I’m not sure I would call this “a ship with potential” but I do think there is a really strong implication that Klaus is sexually obsessed with his sister and I understand that TVD was never going to go there as it was a CW show, but considering they are vampires and just how WEIRD their chemistry is on the show and the whole thing where they were definitely both dating Stefan, I tend to headcanon this as well. It’s part of why things are so fucked up between them.

I suppose on to the final hinge of this triangle, this is the ship I most regret not really getting in TVD: Stefan x Rebekah. I remember after 1x03 aired, I was convinced that we were about to launch into a sickeningly angsty (read: I lived for this) situation where Stefan would be in love with both Rebekah and Elena, through no fault of his own, and be unable to put one before the other (at least, not without a really long and epic emotional arc). I really enjoyed this idea in particular because Rebekah so embodies the parts of Stefan that Stefan most loathes about himself, the parts of him that he works so hard to suppress, but which are also very deep and intrinsic elements of his character. Elena represents a different side of himself: the person he tries to be, that he tries to change himself into, with lesser and greater success. It would have been a really fascinating ship that would have given some real tension to Stefan in season 3 and also lent Stelena its first real obstacle.

Obviously I wish there had been some actual Elijah x Elena and some actual Klaus x Elena, because everything pointed that way and it would have been FUN, but the show seemed to think that Elena could only have so many love interests, which, shame.

In some of my more lucid moments when I can tamp down my die hard Delena feelings, I can admit that Damon x Bonnie would have been a great ship. I don’t personally like the idea of it because I really really am all in for both Delena and Stelena, but it probably would have been utterly magnificent.

As for what I think was handled poorly:

Salt under the cut.

obviously klaus x caroline

I was never very happy with Steroline... a little surprising to me that I disliked it when I actually received it, because I shipped it pretty attentively in season 2, at the height of my interest in the show. My main issue with it was that by the time it happened, the show had pretty much convinced me that anyone other than Elena would always be #2 in Stefan’s eyes-- from what I’ve seen of the finale, it seems like the show went out of their way to reinforce Stelena again at the end, even though Stefan had married Caroline by that time. I suppose I just think what we actually got really sucked for Caroline, and it makes me sad for her.

Elijah x Katherine-- Loved the idea that they would find a way to be together-- and even that Elijah would overlook how cruel Katherine had become (not that he should be throwing stones, or, in Elijah’s case, pebbles). HATED how quickly he left her to pursue the plot of the Originals-- I was NEVER given a satisfactory excuse for that-- the idea that they would still burn for each other 500 years later, that they would finally have a chance to be together, and what? Elijah discovers Katherine is in fact Katherine, the monster he and his brother made, so he ditches out? LAME. ALSO the fact that he didn’t come to her bedside AS SHE LAY DYING in 500 Years of Solitude?????? UNACCEPTABLE. This was WASTED. (But also. Because of this ship. I had to hear with my own ears “the sweet peasant girl you fell in love with way back when is dead”. UMM. EXCUSE ME. Nothing about the flashbacks imply Katerina was a peasant? Girl obviously had the connections to go to England? I’m so embarrassed for Elena’s wild lack of understanding of any basic history, I curl up and die every time I hear this Godforsaken line.)

Elijah x Hayley-- OOC! I pretty much hate this ship. Mostly because if Elijah was going to pull what he did with Katherine, he ought to have been wrecked by it, not forgetting about Queen Kat and falling for random mean teenager Hayley. Maybe if it had been introduced later in The Originals, but it was like whiplash for me as a viewer and it set me against it right away

Bonnie x Enzo-- look, I understand that people are into this ship and say it’s really well done, and I can admit that I haven’t really seen enough of the later seasons to judge fairly, but my gut feeling to encountering this has always been wtf? I just have a lot of trouble grappling with the idea of Bonnie with a vampire. The thing about Bonnie is that she’s consistently just about the only one with their head on straight. She knows vampires are THE WORST. and also, does no one remember that time that Enzo murdered Stefan? I DO. I SURE DO. I can just about buy the idea that over time Damon would get under her skin enough that I could see Damon x Bonnie, but this thing with Enzo strikes me as bizarrely out of character for her. Girl is too smart for this!!

Anything pertaining to Silas/Amara/Quetsiyah-- kill it with fire

OH and anything pertaining to Caroline x Alaric please smother it with a pillow-- I know a lot of people are into teacher x student as a kink and that Caroline had grown up by then, but teacher x student has and at this point probably always will squick me to no end and I hate the way that this ship brings Alaric’s character down, because Alaric is just so wonderful and has gone through so much grief, he should just get to not have this storyline tainting him

#anonymous #tvd meta

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randomfandomimagine · 3 years

Text

Games With Trish: The Last of Us Part II

Granted, I didn’t actually play this myself but watched my brother play it instead. Still, I’m kind of glad he had the controller because the game looks so difficult and scary. Overall, I absolutely adored the game and it has so many good things. For that reason, I’ll say the bad things first since there are very few.

I know this game was very controversial, but this is my personal opinion and thoughts, not facts. Let me know your opinion if you want (as long as you’re kind and polite, please!).

Long rant and spoilers under the cut!

Bad things

I have two main things to complain about in the game: the violence and its heavy emotional charge. Now, I don’t necessarily hate them because not only does it make sense that it’s a violent game taking place in a post-apocalyptic world where it’s kill or be killed, but it also goes along with the message of hate and revenge the game wants to tell.

Still, the game gave me a lot of anxiety and I didn’t enjoy it as much as I could have for this reason. I averted my gaze a few times (when they break Yara’s arm being one of them) because it’s so brutal. I’m also a very sensitive person, so each time we played it was so tense and sad that I ended up exhausted. Every time a character died it was so harrowing... Abby’s Day 3 was so intense that I was a little overwhelmed, and Yara’s death was like the final straw and we had to take a break from the game. Characters also die so quickly, which is realistic, but it didn’t give you enough time to react before you were thrown into another scene or shootout. Between how frantic some scenes are and how brutal or tragic, I had to ask my brother to pause it a few times. The game really doesn’t give you a moment to breathe. That’s it, that’s my only complaint about the game. Now on to the good things.

Characters

First of all, and always my favorite thing about any story: the characters. Ellie is my all time favorite character, and even if I don’t agree with her choices and actions in this game, I can still empathize with her and love how complex and deep she is. She’s just human, and she is traumatized, so she does some questionable things.

Obviously, Troy Baker’s and Ashley Johnson’s performances are flawless, but Druckmann’s dialogues and writing is so... human. The characters interact like real people, they are spontaneous and natural, they have intimate moments of love, anger and a wide range of emotions. These characters fidget, frown, smile and have a myriad of human gestures (also improved with the amazing, mindblowing Naughty Dog graphics) that make them feel real. You can feel the emotion pour out of every gesture, every look, every expression.

I know Abby is also a controversial character but... I adore her. Of course we are meant to hate her at first, but the more time we spend with her, the more I grew fond of her even if I missed playing with Ellie. I couldn’t help but to admire Abby’s brute strength and bravery, even when she faces her fear of heights. When she tells her story, you understand her motivations as much as her actions hurt. Joel (like every character in this game and every person in that world) was not a good person, no matter how much we love him. Besides, at the end of the game it’s hard not to feel for Abby. She loses everyone as a direct result of her own revenge that she very much ends up regretting. When Ellie finds her at the end, it was hard to even tell that was Abby, I literally didn’t recognize her. So it was nice knowing that she found redemption and got her happy ending with Lev, her new family.

The side characters are all amazing. I was especially fond of Lev and Yara (Lev is an adorable little boy that must be protected, I just wanted to hug him) from Abby’s part and Dina and Jesse from Ellie’s part. I also loved Owen, Nora, Manny, Alice... everyone. Even Mel, who seems a bit more bland in comparison, has a defined personality.

The plot

It is so well written, it makes so much sense, coherently and thematically, that I don’t understand some complaints. It’s also so compelling! People complain that Joel’s death made no sense and was just for shock value? It was a direct consequence of his actions at the end of the first game when he killed lots of people and literally doomed humanity out of selfishness. I still love Joel and I’m glad he saved Ellie, but this can’t be denied. Besides, the game deals a lot with the consequences of the characters’s actions, so it makes perfect sense to me.

Everything that happens in the plot and the story has a point. You kill lots of people as Ellie to avenge Joel, but then you get Abby’s point of view and grief the loss of those same characters. The game tries to make you feel for every person, which is why they all have names and their friends call out to them when they are shot. The main goal of the game was to get you to feel empathy for the ‘bad guys’. The point was that there are no good or bad guys in this story, only people with personal perspectives. Ellie and Abby are just two women who felt they were in the right. And in a way, they both were.

I just think the plot was coherent, with lots of interesting things, twists and surprises. Overall, it was realistic. There were no deus ex machinas, no crazy expectation subversions (because the twists were well established) and to me it felt like everything that happened had a meaning, as heart-crushing as it could be.

The themes

Now, this is one of my favorite things about the game. I read that Druckmann said that Ellie and Abby would have been friends in another life, and I agree. They are two sides of the same coin, or two different moments in the process of recovery from trauma and grief.

Abby got her revenge and is dealing with the consequences of it, with the guilt and the rejection of those that don’t approve of her hate and resentment. When she got her revenge, she didn’t feel better (in fact she felt worse) so she does something good to change that. She literally returns to Yara and Lev to make amends for killing Joel, and in it she finds a new family. In the end, Abby actively choses not to do bad things anymore (even to the point of refusing to fight Ellie) and let go of that hatred.

Ellie is in the first stages of grief, needing to look for Abby until she kills her for what she did to Joel. There are some hardcore visceral moments that show the dark side of revenge, like when she finds Nora or attacks Mel and Owen. Even when Abby lets her go she still can’t forget about Joel’s death. It was a nice respite in the farm with Dina and JJ, but her guilt and PTSD don’t leave her and she has to go again. She is literally going through what Abby already lived, hence why she tells Ellie ‘I’m not doing this’ when they meet at the end of the game.

Ellie and Abby were on the same path even if they started on different places. Abby had done terrible things for Isaac as a Wolf but finds redemption when protecting Lev. Ellie mostly wanted to live a happy life until her father figure was taken from her. They meet common ground at some point and then go on their own paths again, which is why the game didn’t end on the theatre.

The first Last of Us was about love, but Part II is about hate. It speaks about how hatred and revenge never end, an eye for an eye and everyone will end up blind. The characters have to make conscious choices to avoid it ruining their lives even further and that’s why the ending is so good. More on that later.

Little things

The setting is incredible, it feels lived in and sometimes it’s absolutely gorgeous. Every place has a history and some of them are just so cool. The musem with the flashback of Joel and Ellie was one of my favorite places, as well as the aquarium. Also, the part of the game where you go to Ground Zero? Terrifying! I was freaking out only watching my brother play, and I’m impressed that they managed to make it feel so dark and ominous. It’s brilliant that they thought of putting something like that in the game, as scary as it was.

The game has so much attention to detail, from how you always find alcohol and scissors in places like kitchens or bathrooms to how accurate the animations are. I was blown away when I saw the trailer with how you crawl under cars and cock the guns and everything, and the game has so many details like those.

Even the AI was insane, NPCs have dialogues if you let them speak and they are so smart. They turn around in the middle of their walking, like real people would, and make it extra challenging. I was so impressed with the AI.

The music was phenomenal as usual. The score just pulls the correct emotions out of you, whether it is making you feel the adrenaline with the drums or feel nostalgic or just make you sad with the guitar.

The ending

Finally, the ending. I think many people didn’t like it, but to me it was perfect. I was so convinced that either Ellie or Abby were going to die, or both! I was relieved that they both lived, and in a way that made so much sense. To me it was a satisfying end to everything that had been set up, a coherent end to all the themes and the message that the game sent. Revenge is bad, let go of that hatred or it will consume you.

Ellie can’t kill Abby. She spent so long thinking about Joel in his last moments, about how she was helpless and couldn’t save him, and that fueled her anger and hatred. Her survivor’s guilt from the first game only got worst when it meant seeing her father figure die. Still, when she is about to kill Abby she thinks about him in a different way. She sees him fondly, with his jacket and coffee and playing guitar. She doesn’t see him bloody and dying as he was that dreadful day. That’s why she doesn’t kill Abby.

Abby and Lev find Santa Catalina after everything they went through. IT’s Abby’s ‘reward’ for not going after Ellie again after what happened with Owen, Mel and everyone. They get their happy ending together as a family: Lev can be himself and feel safe even with everything that he loss, Abby can start forgiving herself for her guilt and honor both her father and Owen by returning to the Fireflies. She was lost in the darkness but found the light. It’s also symbolic that she isn’t as buff or has her long hair because she’s letting go of the reason why she had them.

Ellie lost everything. She couldn’t let go of her hatred and in doing so she was left completely alone, which was her worst fear. She risked everything and the only thing she had left, which was Dina (the representation of a happy life) is gone. It was also heartbreaking that she couldn’t even play guitar (as a guitar player myself and music lover, that hurt me profoundly) because she lost her fingers as a consequence of her attempt at revenge.

I saw theories that Dina was actually waiting for her somewhere else because Ellie was wearing her bracelet, and I hope so too. It seems strange that Dina would abandon her dream of living in a farm if she was staying with Ellie, but I still want to hold on to that hope. I shipped those two so hard, and I really want Ellie to have a somewhat happy ending.

The last few minutes were beautifully tragic. Bittersweet. Ellie is alive, but leaves everything behind, all of her belongings (including Joel’s guitar) in order to move on. It was the only way she had to let go of her grief from Joel’s death and start a new life instead of repeating the vicious cycle of revenge. Just... powerful and moving.

Amazing lines and scenes

My brother knows me well and he said that my favorite scene would be the one in the museum with Ellie and Joel, and it probably is. It feels like a continuation of the first game and it’s a sweet father-daugther (parent-child and found family tropes are my weakness) moment in which Joel tries to make Ellie happy with the nerdy things he knows she loves.

I also adore all the moments between Ellie and Dina. They are adorable and they just feel like a real couple, caring about each other and joking and flirting.

All of the flashbacks were emotional and amazing, but my favorite is probably the last one. When Ellie tells Joel that she wants to forgive him? When he says ‘if I had another chance I would do it all over again?’ I’m getting choked up just thinking about it. I think that’s actually my favorite scene in the game.

Another one of my favorite lines was ‘hey, you’re my people’ from Abby to Lev. It’s so important and such a turning point for Abby, because if it weren’t for Lev she might have killed Ellie and Dina in the theater. She cares so much about him that she keeps going. And that line is the first moment we really see how much that kid meant to her.

Final thoughts

This was probably the longest rant I’ve written here, but The Last of Us was already my favorite game and Part II only topped it for me. The few bad things are greatly overpowered by the countless good things. The game just left a mark on me and I will never forget how it made me smile, laugh, gasp, cry, cringe in fear and overall... just feel in a way nothing had ever made me feel before.

#games with trish #the last of us #tlou #the last of us part ii #rant #the last of us 2 #the last of us ii

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mauserfrau · 4 years

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Mau's Very Silly Headcanon Post

Since I have two pieces of fiction going live this weekend and they’re both going to be late due to butting into each other XD.

I did another one here and there’s going to be some overlap, but less bodily function stuff in this one (mostly spit) (also some vague references to medical trauma).

A lot of this is small potatoes because I didn’t want to spoil anything. How Phaseleech actually works ends up being a plot point in what I have pending, so I actually can’t just come out and say what’s going on. That said, I’m sure there are people here who want to know what’s on my mind, but who don’t want to sit through 50K words with half a dozen squick warnings.

That said: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mauser_Frau

Questions welcome, about this, anything else I think about Borderlands, what exactly is in Chapter 13 of Satellite, if it’s true the one flashback actually happened to Mom...

Both

-Look, the only thing I did that’s appreciably off-canon is let them have emotions. Maybe I drove into left field with what those emotions were, but that’s really all anybody’s got to do to fix this situation. Go with the deity of your choice.

-If I was headed for a Gearbox ending, it would be for the scrapped one, not the one we got. See this and this other thing.

>>>I would still have written the twins as having something resembling a meaningful relationship regardless of whether that turned out romantic or not. As things went and are, them as a couple was something I knew how to write and my mom shipped them (no, I’m not kidding).

-I’m not going for a canon ending. Mercy, did I find a thread I could snap and take the whole sweater out.

-Both had blue siren markings when they were born; Troy’s turned red after they were separated.

--Which was a complicated mess-- they were upside-down verses each other and had several secondary adhesions, the most notable of which was Tyreen’s face to Troy’s thigh.

---Leda never 100% recovered from the emotional or physical trauma, but she put on a brave face for the last sevenish years of her life.

---Troy’s tissue loss was severe and left him with a notable pit in his upper right side.

---Tyreen also has heavy scarring running from her right armpit to her right hip. It’s not as complex, but it is very visible. Missing a fair amount of intestine compared to the average human, but this has apparently never bothered her beyond the fact that visiting the toilet when you don’t eat is not fun.

-Semi-identical twins. Have 82.5% of their genes in common. LSS, neither one is a parasite. They’re two sperm plus one egg and they didn’t divide right.

--Ms. Phaseleech* didn’t know any better. #oops

--If you get them relaxed enough, they will indeed curl up together in their “fish” position.

-Tyreen is the one who would wail first if separated from her brother when they were very small, but they don’t like being apart even as adults.

-Both very well-read, used to recite The Odyssey to congregants instead of scripture (‘cause they didn’t have any scripture).

-Good to excellent hunters. Depends what they’re hunting and if they’re together. Prefer to go barefoot if there’s no one else around.

-The circumstances surrounding Leda’s death are appreciably worse than fanon baseline to the point I don’t think I ought to leave them lying around in a Tumblr post.

-Both have wavy hair if they don’t iron the daylights out of it.

-Prefer to be on the road and around people, even if a fair amount of those people are going to end up dinner.

-Get weirdly soft-hearted around kids, especially little boys with a similar complexion to their own.

-Do they have any concept that they’re horrible people? Yes, but it’s very academic and not something that motivates them. You’d be way more likely to hear them frame themselves as hedonists, which also explains their worldview to a certain extent.

~*~

Troy

-Skinnier than most other Troys. You could put him in a room with every fandom Troy and sort them by muscle mass, you’d find him at the bottom end, partying like this was an accomplishment.

-Has an X-linked connective tissue disorder which is more extensive than he lets on. He really should not do about 90% of the stunts he does because of the vascular involvement.

-Made a categorical decision to treat the associated pain with a lot of cannabis and massage. Has a distinct resin and honey body butter smell because of this.

--Also, if you get him off-hours, there’s going to be a fair amount of “but why are we here, man?” discussion.

-Has a kink in his upper back. His spine tilts to his right. Not super noticeable, but if you were on massage duty, you’d realize something felt out of place.

-Used to get catastrophic nosebleeds, though these have lessened in frequency and severity over the years.

-After a certain point, has a permanent latching socket port installed on his right side, allowing him to switch arms out as he likes.

--Because he has a selection of eccentric ones. What? It’s a challenge to learn to use non-human aspects like claws or feathers or forty joints in a tentacle.

--Still flounces around without one if nobody of consequence is watching and generally won’t sleep with one in.

-The insides of his ear gauges are messy and don’t even get him started on changing the jewelry on any, erm, other piercings he might have. (Nipples and one off-center PA. That was QUITE enough after what it took for his tattoos to cooperate.)

-Will frame any illness or off-day as a migraine, which he does get.

-Had really bad teeth before his mouth mods. After that, has none of his natural teeth remaining. Primarily uses his exceptional bite radius to annoy others, show off, eat sandwiches in a disturbing fashion and do unspeakable things in bed. They’re for show. They’re not functional in any serious way.

-Doesn’t have great control of said mouth mods in the heat of passion or if you get him laughing hard enough. Hope you like spit!

-Still has rather heinous-looking feet, but he’s concerned about losing his calluses if he has them fixed. You’d be more likely to see him open on an operating table than barefoot in public.

-Always wants to be the little spoon. You’re a tink? You’re a third his size? So what. He wants to be the little spoon. Just give in.

-Genuinely likes tea, especially flower-based tea. Favorite foods include grits, polenta, tamales, campfire beefy rice, beef and broccoli layered onto somebody else’s leftover noodles, beef curry, beef sandwiches soaked in jus, steak tips on day-old fries and look just give him a sloppy plate of starch and dead cow if you need him to shut up.

-Drinks vodka so cold and over-filtered it tastes like water, then follows it up with extra greasy, burnt-to-hell texas toast while talking about his mother.

-Lactose intolerant. Please do not feed the rat child pizza. Or chipped beef on toast. No, not even if he begs.

~*~

Tyreen

-Abnormally acute senses, especially hearing/smell and including a form of intuition which targets where things she can leech exist nearby. She’s only aware of any of this in the context of it being different from how Troy’s senses work. She knows where to get food. Don’t most people?

-Doesn’t perceive herself as 100% human. The Leech is part of her and she likes herself. Mama said she was perfect. The details are whatever. You got a problem here? Well, that’s easy to fix…

-Would have been sorted as a tomboy growing up, but had no companions to do so. As is, prefers the company of masculine individuals, loves showing people up in a boyish fashion and is absolutely going to tune you out if you start talking to her about the topic.

-Reeks. You might smell something “off” with her around in a meeting room, but get her sweaty or worked up and forget it. It’s not even a human smell. Petrichor and spray paint, menstrual blood and chlorine, dead leaves and solvent. It’s chemical, it’s uncannily biological. It’s really not OK. She can’t smell it and Troy’s used to it.

-Doesn’t shave. Has fluffy armpits that don’t match her dye job and a rather spectacular bush that extends onto her upper thighs. Does pluck here brows and the witch hairs on her chin, but otherwise, you know what, nah.

-Heavily tattooed, but this is limited to her torso. The viewing of said tattoos, as well as her scars, is a ritual in her particular CoV.

--Not that she cares about being naked. A body is a body. You people are so uptight.

-Will reflexively guard her lower stomach before anything else and sometimes in error. Do not call her on this. You will piss her off.

-Has an eye-shaped siren marking, but it’s on her left shoulder blade and she tends to forget it’s there. More aware of the “pointer mark” underneath her navel.

-Poor tolerance for any drugs.

-Can only ingest salt, sucrose and 80 proof or better clear alcohol without retching.

--Which is to say she doesn’t eat “people food”.

--Fatty or high-fiber foods tend to make her ill faster. She could possibly keep tofu or chicken breast down for an hour or more, but it’s still not going to end well.

--Can and does eat cinder toffee because it’s one of the few things she can chew and digest. Konpeito is nice too, but sometimes the dye upsets her stomach.

--Milk, maybe. Human works better.

-Enjoys swimming or long baths.

-Ambidextrous. Was either born that way or picked up doing certain things left-handed because that’s what her brother had to work with and she had to show him how to do stuff somehow.

-Good with a forearm-mounted crossbow. Either hand is fine.

-Used to drool precipitously when she leeched something “good”. Mostly has a handle on this by the time the CoV gets to be a thing. Mostly.

-Deeply immature love language which might include her actually asking to play with her prospective partner and a good bit of bullying.

-SHE IS NOT SHY ABOUT HER NEEDS AND KINKS. THE HELL WITH YOU. YOU’RE MAKING SOMETHING OUT OF NOTHING. HOW DARE YOU. DO YOU WANT TO BE SKAG BAIT ON THE NEXT LIVESCREAM. UGH. #nottsundereatall

~*~

* The Leech IDed herself as, erm, herself in some stuff I’m not sure I’ll ever post but ANYWAY.

#borderlands 3 #headcanon post #calypso twins #troy calypso #tyreen calypso

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5sosbitchfest · 4 years

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We had an Anon write in with some interpretations of a tarot card reading she did. I thought I’d share it with y’all as she took a lot of time to write this down. I know NOTHING about tarot cards. I cannot vouch for the validity of any of this nor am I saying it’s all a pile of hogwash. I did enjoy reading this and wondering “what if?” As I always say, read if you wish but take it “with a grain of salt.” Thanks so much to the anon for sharing.

******************************************************

So, this is going to take forever, as a reading can carry a lot of information, and you might want more ‘practical’ details too, about how are done. But I’ll try my best to be both synthetic and precise.

First things first, you can only get a proper reading if you believe and trust the cards to bring you the answers. If you don’t take it seriously it won’t work. What I usually do is to take a moment to empty my head, breathe and then focus on the question I’m asking. While I do so, I shuffle the cards until I sense it’s the good moment to draw the cards.

For both reading the question was “What is going to be the love future of Mystal/Lierra?”. I try to be as neutral and unbiased as possible (which is the hardest part), not wanting or expecting anything in the answer. I draw four cards, that I put in a line (not in a cross like some do), which gives a general answer.

My tarot deck is a very common and cheap one, but I like it, it’s been with me for a long time and I trust it. It has a few particularities. The minor arcana doesn’t have sense, there’s no difference between a card upward and downward. This means the interpretation are wider and sometime more difficult. The major arcana has a sense though.

· I’ll start with Mystal reading. It was a quite precise and detailed, the reading went rather good no blockage or anything. The four cards (from left to right, and in order of picking) were: Queen of Coins, King of Cups, Queen of Sword and the Fool.

Very interesting from the beginning! All the cards are precise character: female, male, female, male. Two couples. The first couple is on left of the reading and both looking at the left (the eyes of the characters drawn on the picture) – left is associated with what is known, the past. The second couple is on the right of the reading and both looking at the right too –the unknown, the future. I see it the first couple presenting Mystal as is was /is, the past, the history, the built up to where they are now. The second couple is their future.

The past and the future are in opposition. The future won’t be in the same line as the past, there will be changes. In both case we have the two characters, not really matching, which could mean Crystal and Michael didn’t see their relationship in the same light or put the same value in it. And that will still be true, they don’t want to evolve in the same way.

Now for the details, card by card. Queen of Coins. This figure is kind of the “business women”. She is the symbol of material richness. She like abundance and luxury. Her noble status is due to long efforts that she can now enjoy and share. She builds or wants to build something long-lasting, a legacy. She cares deeply for the appearance and her social status. To me it is the perfect representation of Crystal’s path to where she is now.

King of Cups. The loving king, he is compassionate and tolerant, tender and benevolent. He is looking for stable relationship, based on love and respect. He protects the one he cares about. Could totally fit Michael’s description and what he was looking for when he met Crystal.

Queen of Sword. (This kind of made me crackled. This was a specifically love-targeted reading, and there’s barely any card in my deck that has less to do with love than the Queen of Sword.) This lady is methodical and rational, cold and analytical. She makes decisions and doesn’t ask for others’ opinions. She doesn’t play well in teams. She places her job, before any form of sentiment. In complex situations, she’s the one to take distance, she comes independent. She knows well how to speak and to manipulate.

The Fool. The fool is a symbol of liberty. Full of youth and energy, he goes along his own path, kind of merry-go-lucky. In my deck, the fool is also playing a cord instrument (There’s no accident in the cards). In this specific reading, I see it as the realization that something needs to change. He wants something new, life has become boring or heavy, he needs to seek new horizons, new things in general. It could potentially be a splitting, but not necessarily. With the other card, I would say it’s a break, a pause. A moment to create, to do music, maybe to party too?

There is tension. They don’t want the same thing. Crystal sees it, but she has worked hard to get what she has now. She wants to keep it, to secure it, even at the expense of being manipulative, cold, and/or authoritative. Michael wants to try new things, to have fun, to shake things up, but he might not be ready to give up on his hope to have a long and stable relationship with her. So they may have a temporary break. Spend some time on their own. But I have to stress that for now, I don’t see any official, definitive break-up.

· Lierra’s reading was much blurrier. (Also I was getting a little tired and unfocused… so, yeah.) The cards took a loooong shuffle before they were ready for the reading. This could mean the situation is complex, not very clear. The cards (from left to right, and in order of picking) were: 4 of Cups, 3 of Coins, Page of Coins and 3 of Cups. Very few iconography, not much material, a lot of ‘vague’ / ‘concept’ cards. It was definitely harder for me to get the meaning of it. And no general meaning that flashed at me right away.

So let’s go card by card. 4 of cups. Very related to romance (cool, that the topic), means something very stable, in the sense that it is not changing at all. It could have a positive meaning, but it’s also commonly associated with routine and boredom. And with the other cards, I think it’s this last meaning at work here.

3 of Coins. This card is very much relating to work. I guess, here, it could mean mixing love and work. From the energy of the card, I didn’t see it as relating to the past, but more as taking action to mix and maybe balance these two aspects more. Seeing it right after the previous card, it could potentially be an indication that their relationship started as work (PR), but I’m honestly not convinced it was the sense of this reading (which doesn’t mean that they are not PR).

Page of Coins. It symbolizes youth and a bit of immaturity, Coins are also associated with medium to dark hair and complexion. Someone that may not be able to see the result of their work but is focused. Or doesn’t see the result of their work because they’re not working hard enough, or lack in skill or inspiration. It’s another card that doesn’t really relate to love. It’s more about work, and places material success before love.

It’s not a very popular interpretation, but sometimes, Page can be the “third wheel” and in the case of a couple reading, a third person interfering. Maybe a lover? Maybe someone is cheating. At first I thought it was fetched but it would make sense with the first card (boredom) that one of them is seeking for something different outside of the couple. And it makes sense with the other two cards which literally spells it: “3”. From what I know about Lierra, and the 5sos songs, it wouldn’t seem crazy to think that one of them might be cheating. (It would also make sense if they were PR and would not actually share a romantic bond).

3 of Cups. It’s another card that can potentially mean ‘ménage à trois’, frivolity, partying. But, more usually, it is associated with an agreement and the resolution of a conflict.

As I said, it wasn’t a very clear reading and I had to spend quite a lot of time dwelling on the cards before something came out of it. My general impression is that Lierra may or may not be PR, but at least puts work first, and has fallen in a pit of boredom. One of them (potentially both, but I had more the feeling that it was only one of them) is cheating to escape this heavy routine. Which might have been openly discussed, or will be forgiven. No sign of break up.

#kirby #tarot card readings

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multimetaverse · 5 years

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HSMTMTS 1x02 Review

The Read-Through was a great ep that surpassed the already high bar set by the premiere. Let’s dig in!

I had read about it in reviews but wow that Ashlyn and Nini duet was amazing. Julia Lester has a very powerful voice. It really was a wise decision for to show to film the kids singing live as much as possible

‘Wondering’ the song really highlights that although the show knows how to poke fun at itself and the movies, it is a deeply earnest show. It’s hilarious that Miss Jenn decides that the drama teacher of all characters needs a power ballad and of course Ms. Darbus herself was never a very important character in the movies but rather than play the whole situation for laughs they actually deliver a really moving song that gives a lot of depth to the role of Ms. Darbus in the musical and ties in beautifully with Nini’s conflicting feelings regarding Ricky

I’m pleasantly surprised at how they’re already giving Ashlyn some depth. I wasn’t sure if I’d like her that much based off of the little we knew of her before the show premiered but she really brings a lot to the table. I’m very glad they’re not going the cliche route of EJ is embarrassed to be seen publicly with his weird cousin. I like the little touches we get with her like her wearing her grandma’s glasses and her over exuberance at the read through. I’m curious to learn more about her and EJ’s families because although they’re cousins they are very different people

A really strong ep for Ricky and one that sure’s to please Nicky shippers. Dousing himself in cologne because he thinks the ‘pheromones’ in it will please Nini was such a teen boy thing to do (and loved the brand name throb). It’s good that Nini called him out for not taking the musical very seriously, for having auditioned just so he could be close to her, and for not being able to commit to things. He really needed that wake up call and it led to some good character growth when he buckles down and learns the choreography which was a funny scene and it reminded me of Phil Dunphy doing the same thing on Modern Family

Strong work by both Joshua Bassett and the writers with the glimpses we get of Ricky’s home life. It was a sad but realistic detail when Ricky didn’t want Big Red over because of how tense things have been at home. And I liked that Mr. Bowen sat down and watched Ricky practice rather than just going back to bed or berating him. I’m sure Ricky’s mom isn’t trying to hurt Ricky by staying in Chicago but just ghosting her family like this is only delaying the inevitable conversation she’’s going to need to have with her husband and Ricky

So far the show is doing a good job of balancing angst and drama and romantic moments for Nicky. Nini was clearly impressed by seeing Ricky performing the choreography in the library and she then avoided EJ on her way out. She definitely had a bit of a moment when she made eye contact with Ricky during Wondering and again she avoided telling EJ what was up. Kourtney bluntly asked her if she really wanted to be with EJ and Nini’s answer didn’t sound all that convincing. I don’t blame her for being torn, she and Ricky had gone out for a while and it was only a little more than 6 weeks ago in universe that she told Ricky she loved him

The show took a big step towards making Nini’s choice easier by somewhat villainizing EJ. I’m glad that Ashlyn correctly called him out for being scary and for pointing out that he doesn’t own Nini. Him saying that he wanted to stay with Nini because she made him a better person right after asking Ashlyn to steal her phone so he could read her messages sure was something

It’s true that as Ashlyn said EJ is being paranoid but as the old saying goes, just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean that they’re not out to get you. Ricky really is trying to win Nini back and breakup her and EJ and Nini really does still have some level of feelings for Ricky. That of course doesn’t justify his bad actions but the motivation for his jealousy and insecurity are there. And we also get an important line from Ashlyn about how EJ could stand to not always get what he wants. He clearly expected to win the lead and be with Nini for a long time only to have Ricky waltz in at the last moment and pull out the rug from under him

In a way I’m glad that they’re starting to unravel NJ now because that will ultimately make things less messy when the show starts guiding Nicky back together. As I’ve said before, love triangles usually devolve into someone cheating on their significant other in some fashion and the less emotional cheating we get on this show the better imo

Miss Jenn continues to be a G rated April Rhodes and I’m here for it. It’s wildly inappropriate for her to basically nudge Nini and Ricky back together because it will help the show and she believes in their chemistry but it��s exactly the kind of stuff she needs to be doing in her role as an agent of chaos. Her going hard with the solo during the read through and making such a big deal out of Gabriella’s 2006 phone was too funny. We got another phone call with her mom about money problems, we’ll see what comes of it.

Gina made a big splash this ep. I liked that her plot involved convincing Ricky to stay as an indirect way to get Nini out of the way, that was clever of her. We get a little glimpse of how being a transfer student and her desire to make a place for herself colours her actions and we get to see how observant she is. She went full on villain at the end though when she took Nini’s phone and put it in EJ’s bag. Gina has no way of knowing if there actually is anything on Nini’s phone regarding her and Ricky but she’s clearly picked up on the spark that’s still there between them. EJ would be a fool to work with her because they are not in fact after the same thing; EJ wants to be the Troy to Nini’s Gabriella but Gina wants to be Gabriella in place of Nini and I doubt she cares who plays Troy. Those are mutually exclusive goals right there

Good ep for Big Red as well, his cult line was funny and his awful readings of the stage directions was hilarious. He continues to be a steadfast friend for Ricky, they’ve got a good bromance going on

A pretty funny ep all around, lots of great lines. I think my favourite is the exchange between Miss Jenn and EJ where she said he was lurking and he says he was going for loitering

Not quite sure what to make of Carlos thinking that Ricky was going to assault him in the library. I did like the start of a possible friendship we see between him and Ricky. Seb gets some lines and we learn he’s a piano playing farm boy with milking glasses and he’s a sophomore like Carlos. It will be interesting to see when they start something with Seblos and how far that relationship will go this season. Seb is in all 10 eps this season if Joe Serafini’s imdb is accurate which puts him above all the other guest stars

It wasn’t romantic of course but just seeing a bunch of guys holding hands with guys and girls holding hands with girls really shows how much further HSMTMTS will be able to go than Andi Mack was. There’s just no way a mass hand holding scene like this would ever have been allowed to happen on Andi Mack. And the casual way Nini referred to one of her moms sending her fortune cookie sayings in a regular ep instead of one of the two or three designated textual gay eps per season that Andi Mack was allowed was refreshing

I really liked the skate park and shooting at an actual high school continues to pay off for the show

Looking Ahead:

It’s looks like most of the clips we’ve seen on various trailers came from the first two eps so we’re in largely uncharted waters going forward. Hopefully someone uploads the next ep promo

We know EJ has an apology song coming up so he likely gets caught sooner rather than later and I wonder if Gina gets exposed with him or if her breakdown scene we saw in the promo relates to something else

Until next week wildcats

#HSMTMTS #HSM #Ricky Bowen #Nini Salazar-Roberts #Nicky #NJ #EJ Caswell #Ashlyn #Big Red #Carlos #seb matthew-smith #Seblos #Gina Porter #HSMTMTS Reviews

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skittles1229 · 4 years

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Community Fanfiction (self insert/x reader)

"Personally I don't see the appeal" you say under your breathe as you pick at the disgusting slop in front of you. Greendale's lunch left much to be desired, but I don't think they got famous for their lunches. From what I've read Greendale has seen it all, from campus wide paintball wars to a Dean that thinks Halloween is all year round. It's no lie the Greendale's reputation has been questionable for a while but the one thing I can say is that I haven't met many stuck up assholes since I've been here, granted I try to stay clear of that side of the hall. As I pick away at my phone, that's resting on the corner of the table, someone sits in the chair in front of me and I look up with my usual nonchalant face. There was an older guy, about thirty or forty, and he was quiet unusual. He reeked of an over bearing cologne and his hair was long and black with kinky curls, thought his hair was too greasy to even begin to look puffy. He has two large stars shaved onto his cheeks that connect to his sideburns. "I noticed you from Subway's shop. I've never seen you here before. You must be the city college girl." City college girl? Do I already have a rep here, of course they said that nobody would know and OF COURSE they were lying. "Yes, I came from City college but how'd you know that?" He smiled sheepishly and looked away scratching the back of his neck, when he finally looked back his cheeks were a slighter red shade. "Sorry, got excited. I'm Alex." He holds his large hands out to me, after a moment of my continued silence he brought his hand back down and coughed nervously. I propped my hand up on my elbow that rested on the table, at this point I had abandoned picking at my food and focused on Alex. "Let me guess this is how it went. The Dean got excited and told everyone and you were all curious to meet me today because everyone expected me to be some stuck up dumb blonde right?" Alex seemed astounded which means I was right. There is no secrets kept in Greendale and frankly I was hoping I could go here with a new name, background, and maybe I could just make up some person I've always wanted to be but.. I guess since my past followed me here I might as well live with it. I look back at Alex who has been staring at me since I last spoke, I stick my hand out across the table and give him the brightest smile I can. "My name's (y/n)." I say taking his hand, they were twice the size of mine, grungy and rough.

Alex seemed like a pretty awesome guy and after lunch he walked with me down the hall to Mr. Chang's Spanish class. We talked on and on and yes, he is very weird. Never would have pegged him for a meth head because they are usually more aggressive and like to give out those opinions that nobody asked for but Alex? Alex was pretty great. We walk into the class room and it's only us and four other people in the class so far, then again we still had 30 minutes before class. I sat in front of Alex and met his friends Garrett, Viki, and Magnitude. We talked for a while about D&D and about all the teachers but Alex kept mentioning someone name Jeff and the Greendale seven. From the way he talks about them I'm beginning to wonder just how normal this school was. There were less seats open and the only ones left were seven seats centered towards the middle of the room. Chang had already made his big chaotic entrance and nothing he said made any sense. Greendale definitely should do better in picking their staff because putting a mentally ill Chinese man as a professor was a less then good idea. That's when the Greendale seven arrived, Alex grabbed my shoulder and pointed to the group giving me everyone's names as the waltz in. Tall dark and weirdly antisocial was Abed the movie guru. He'll draw connections to real life situations through pop culture and meta references gained after years of watching TV and movies. Short large and carrying a purse that could fit everything but the kitchen sink was Shirley, the divorced mother of two who loves to bake. Very tall, old, and wrinkled was the jackass name Pierce. Alex says that he is worse then Jeff and is relentlessly mean just because he thinks it makes him look 'rad', how old.is this guy like 90? Then the small brunette who wore a silly school girl outfit and she hugged her books close to her chest as if she was in high school, Annie or little Annie Adderall. Alex will have to give me the details behind that later. Then came the last three, Jeff, Troy, and Brita. Brita seemed to be a very big female activist, if the fliers and stickers in and on her binder said anything. Troy was taller then me and he seemed attached to the hip with Abed, he almost had the same demeanor and smile as Abed as well. Then there was the infamous Jeff, if his looks alone said anything, he was a stuck up, sweater wearing, pompous ass and from the look everyone was giving him as he walked into the class I'd say I was right.

They all sat down pierce sitting closest to us, Jeff next to him and Abed on the other side of Jeff. Britta sat in front of Jeff and Troy sat in the farthest seat to the left on that row, with Sherly sitting in front of Britta and Annie sitting in the front like the good little wanna be Senpai that she is, but once Chang began his intro duction to the class i got a feeling she would start regretting not sitting in the back or at least out of chang’s monkey finger reach. “Every once in a while,” Chang began, “A student will come up to me and ask Senior Chang why do you teach Spanish?” He chuckles while bending down holding himself up by propping his hands on the front two student desk. He continues, “Why do you teach Spanish...” Suddenly his smile fades from his face and it turns into an ugly scowl. “Why You?..” He then leans into the boy who sits in the desk on the left “Why not Math?” He asks scrunching his face up making the boy recoil in fear. Suddenly whipping his head around and removing his hand from the boy I presume is named Matt desk’s all together. Leaning even closer into Annie's face as he begins to speak again. “why not Photography?” Chang walks forward still slightly crouched so that he can remain in his students line of sight. He then puts both his hands on Sherly’s desk, The smile she gives him is kind but her eyes say she might smack him with her purse at any moment. He then speaks once more in the hushed emotionless tone as before, “Why not.. Martial Arts?” He leans up standing straight and tall, as he begins to gesture his words with his hands in the over dramatic way I’m sure I’ll come to learn as distinctly Chang. “I mean surely it must be in my nature to instruct you in something that ancient like, Oh like building a wall that you can see from outer space.” Everyone in the room begins to look at each other with quizzical looks as the monkey like man continued his odd irrelevant speech. “Well, I’ll tell you why i teach Spanish, it is none of your business. M’kay” At this point his hands are making the classic Italian hand gesture where your thumb is meeting the rest of your fingers and you shake your hands vigorously as he starts to walk backwards towards the front his voice gradually getting louder as he got further away. “Now I don't want to have ANY conversations about what a mysterious and inscrutable man I am.” He then proceeded to stroke long imaginary beard hair as he laughed light a little Irishman in a cereal commercial. As he starts to walk back towards the front he then looks to Sherly and yells “I AM A SPANISH GENIUS!” while pointing at his face with his long twig like fingers. Chang continues his rant while making odd hand gestures like he’s having some kind of a mild stroke, “In Spanish they call me El’ Tigre’ Chino!” Followed by raptor sounds and Chang as he pretend eats Sherly’s neck “Cause my knowledge will bite her face off.” He says as he backs up away from everyone still wearing the same disturbing face as before. Everyone nodded their heads scared to upset the monkey man in the middle of his rant. “so don't question senior Chang or you'll get bit.” He continues to yell ‘ya bit’ for the next few minutes.

He stood in silence for a minute with his hands clamped together as he studied the room waiting for a response from anyone. it startles everyone when he claps his hands together speaking in Spanish gesturing towards the white board behind him. “We’ll be having conversations in Spanish using the phrases we learned this week and you’ll be partnering up for this project.” He smiles at the boy who was sitting to his left earlier caressing his face with the back of his hand making the boy physically pull away almost tumbling out of his chair. “Now if you’ll look under your desk at the card i placed there, it should either have a picture or a word on it.” He picks up Britta’s and holds it up to the class showing everyone a small white house on the card. “Now anyone with the card that says casa on it will be Britta’s partner.” Alex seemed to shrink in his seat as Chang made eye contact with him. “Got it, Starburns.” i turn to look at Alex with a smile mixed with a questionable glare. He looks at me begging for mercy as if those words stung him. “Starburns huh?” I whisper over to him. He slumps his shoulders in defeat and slides deeper into his seat wearing a silly pout on his face. I lay my hand on his desk getting his attention back on me, “Don’t worry Alex I think that name is dehumanizing.” His smile crawled back onto his face and his chipper spirit seemed to return just as soon as it left. Chang claps his hands loudly to get everyone's attention, "Okay! See you Friday, find your partners, and what do we say at the end of class?" Everyone around me very dully grumbles 'Hasta la wago' at Chang while he twirls his arms around like a conductor. "Oh come on hands! Hands Gestures are Ninety percent of Spanish!" This time everyone says it again with a little more pep and they all throw there arms around copying Professor Chang's movements. He tells the class that they did excellent and they all clap as everyone shifts in their seats grabbing cards and talking amongst themselves. I grab mine from under my seat pulling it out to see a horse on my card. "Horse SOOO..?

"A/N: Hey guys hope you enjoyed this so far but this is where you guys as the fans have to help me out. I want for this character to spend some time with everyone from the show but I'm not sure who to start us off with? Who do you think we should be partners with?

#fanfiction #community #TvShowFanficiton #xreader #self insert #abed community #jeff winger #annie edison #sherly #REwrite #Starburns

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hookedontaronfics · 5 years

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Honky Dancer series - Chapter 8

Chapter title: Consequences Read the previous installments here: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 Rating: M Pairing: Taron x OC Warnings: Trigger warnings for a subtle mentions of an eating disorder and some medical drama A/N: A lot happens in this chapter, and it’s quite dramatic. The chapter bears its name well; you cannot outrun the consequences of your actions, as our beloved Juliette will soon find out. I hope you enjoy this emotional ride! X

Night shoots, I quickly learned, were a special sort of experience. Most of us had tried to nap before the call time, and we were all standing around clutching cups of coffee, full of caffeine and running on adrenaline. The choreography for “Saturday Night’s Alright” required every dancer that was hired, and a cast of extras simply to fill the background too. The amount of crew and the rigging required to give the number an expansive feel also added to the sheer number of people on set at the moment. The volume level was almost too much, with everyone chatting excitedly.

I was standing with my usual group, minus Markus, who was giving me an extremely cold shoulder by not acknowledging my presence at all. I couldn’t blame him, though; I’d told him to never talk to me again, after all. But now that it was the next day and my simmering anger had dulled, and I’d managed to smooth things over with Taron, I wondered if I hadn’t acted out too irrationally. Blame the baby hormones, I thought ruefully to myself.

Being on that carnival set, amongst the twinkling lights and magical atmosphere, made us feel like we were transported somewhere else. And I certainly hoped that effect would come across on film when it was all said and done. My favorite part was the massive Ferris wheel, ablaze with color. I spotted Taron, talking animatedly with Dexter, and when he looked over I gave him a small wave, which he cutely returned.

“Ugh, adorable,” Leah commented, making me smile behind my coffee cup lid as I took another sip. After what felt like a waste of an hour, we were finally called into place. We discarded our coffees and dumped our jackets and bags and went through last-minute costume checks, the costumers nit-picking over the littlest details, adjusting collars here, snipping stray threads there. We had already been walked through some preliminary blocking, but now that the cameras would be turned on, we all wanted things to be as perfect as they could be. The less takes we all had to do for each beat, the better.

Still, that constant ripple of excitement and thrill ran through all of us and kept us going as the nightly hours wore on. Watching Taron in his element really felt like a treat though. How he managed to turn that energy on and maintain his performance level take after take after draining take was mind-boggling, really. And whether he was tired or not, he never showed it, and he stayed positive and kind to everyone around him. But even though the work itself was exhausting, I still loved everything about it.

The track itself was phenomenal, and Taron’s vocals were strong. I never got tired of listening to it no matter how many takes we did. Giles Martin was a genius, keeping the original integrity of the song but building segments of the different musical influences that Elton had been exposed to and incorporated into his music over the many years, and those flavors had also been used in our dance styles. The choreography was engaging, energetic and exciting, and being a part of this musical number certainly felt like being a part of something much larger than ourselves. The sequence was a crucial part of the storytelling, and needed to feel as youthful and adventurous as Elton’s life was during that time.

I had to admit that I was more than happy when they finally called that night’s filming to a close, as the first creep of dawn was just beginning to tinge the sky. I felt the exhaustion and soreness in every fiber of my body, and blearily changed out of my costume, located my bag in the pile, and wearily made my way off the set and toward the tube station before realizing someone was calling my name. I whirled around, nearly knocking myself off my own feet as I stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk.

“Juliette! Hey, wait up,” Taron said, jogging over to me and sweetly brushing his fingers over my cheek, still somehow not looking exhausted. “Clara’s with her dad and your mum has Troy. Can I just drive you over to my place?” he asked, and I was so tired I didn’t bother arguing, and nodded instead, letting Taron slip his arm around me supportively.

“How are you not completely exhausted?” I grumbled.

“Well, I’m not pregnant, so that helps,” he quipped lightly. “But I’m also just used to it, I think. Not exactly the first night scene I’ve ever been in.”

“I can think of a few,” I smiled. “Bit of a fan of your work, here,” I teased lightly.

“Well you nearly have to be, now that you’re dating me,” he smirked back, and I cracked a smile despite my exhaustion. I sank gratefully down into the plush of the car seat, fighting off falling asleep right then and there. The last thing I needed was Taron taking it upon himself to carry me to bed, as sweet of a gesture as that would be.

“I think today went well,” Taron spoke into our tired silence.

“Really well, at least on our part. It’s always one thing to rehearse a dance. It’s another to see it in the place, in the world so to speak, the lights and colors and costumes. Something about that just made everything feel much more real today,” I replied. “And you… You totally killed it.”

“I don’t know if I killed it, but I wager I gave it everything I had,” he smiled, looking over at me.

“Well, I think, from what I’ve seen, you’re carrying this whole damn thing.”

“I don’t know about that,” he said, running his fingers through his hair in the way he did when he felt humbled by something.

“Well I do,” I smiled, more to myself than anything.

“I am so ready to crash,” he yawned when we finally pulled into the drive and parked.

“You and me both,” I sighed wearily. We made our way inside, and I realized oddly that I hadn’t been in his home for a fair bit. It felt just as cozy as before as he led me to the bedroom, pulling me to him for a couple of sweet kisses before we both got ready for bed, too tired for anything more. He did his best to try and block the morning sunlight creeping across the floor, able to darken the room a bit, and we curled up together and were sound asleep within minutes, my brain for once too worn out to keep me awake.

The baby, on the other hand, had other ideas, waking me up a few hours later. I stumbled to the bathroom and wretched, hardly anything in my stomach to get rid of. I groaned slightly and splashed water on my face before returning to my slumbering boyfriend. I checked my phone briefly, scrolling through social media mindlessly, waiting for sleep to find me again, but hunger found me first instead.

I got up and, still too exhausted to make anything else, popped some bread in the toaster oven, rapping my fingers on the counter as I waited for it to be ready. I smeared some butter on, then took a few bites, chewing slowly, my hand resting on my belly. But then the part of my brain that worried about calories kicked in, and I found I couldn’t eat another bite. I tossed the rest of the toast in the trash and reminded myself I needed to stay away from carbs as I returned to the bed, not entirely satisfied but at least my stomach had stopped gurgling uncomfortably.

“Mmmm,” Taron murmured next to me, turning over and sliding his arm over my waist and nuzzling into my neck. “Can’t sleep?” He asked, cracking his green eyes open and looking at me.

“I got sick. And then I got hungry,” I smiled, as his eyes drew down to my stomach, his fingers splaying out under my sleep shirt and caressing my skin there sweetly.

“This will be worth it in the end,” he said gently, kissing my forehead. “Try to get some more sleep. Tonight will be difficult if you don’t.” I nodded at that and tried to let him soothe me back to sleep, and I eventually did end up drifting off again.

We woke with enough time to shower, make some dinner, and watch a little telly together before heading to set and doing it all over again. The second night seemed a little easier, but maybe it was just because I knew more of what to expect, the lag between scenes, the flurry of activity, the massive rigs swinging around and being readjusted constantly, the dead space where we had to try and keep our bodies warm, the constant makeup and costume retouches, the attempt to keep our energy up through the slog of what felt like a 14-hour night. We had fun with some bumper cars and there might have been more horsing around than actual dancing during that sequence.

The next two nights felt a little more laid-back, as a bulk of the large group shots were already done. The transitions into and out of the scene, with the bar and with Kit Connor, who played the mid-aged Reggie, were the focus of those days, so I spent more time sitting around than anything else, but that also gave me time to be curious about the behind-the-scenes machinations of putting a movie together. I found it completely fascinating, so different and removed from what I did on the stage when I danced professionally, a completely different set of lingo I didn’t quite understand. What was a grip? A racking focus? A polarizer? I had no idea, but hearing people talk casually about the technical aspects made me feel curious to know more.

Needless to say, I was grateful when night shoots, at least for that sequence, were done. It was kind of saddening to see the carnival get dismantled, but of course it had only been put up for the film and I knew that. I had to return to my own crazy schedule, my daughter and my own students and trying to balance that with further rehearsals for “Bitch is Back” and time with Taron as well, though the next few nights he spent at my home with me. It wasn’t even a conversation we had, he just showed up every evening, joining me in making dinner and helping Clara with her homework and walking Troy and just generally filling a space in my home I hadn’t realized had been empty. Eventually I thought it was high time he had a key, so I made it a point to make a copy and give him one.

“You’re in the special group of people who gets one of these,” I giggled as we cuddled on the couch together, long after Clara had gone to bed.

“Oh?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “And just how many people get a key to my girlfriend’s abode?” he chuckled.

“My mum, of course. Zayn, just in case something came up with Clara. Now you…” I smiled, as Taron flipped the key around in his palm slightly. He seemed a bit reserved about it, but then he’d been a bit reserved the past few nights. I chalked it up to just being knackered from night shoots until he sighed slightly and spoke my name in a hesitant manner.

“Juliette. I really need to ask you something,” he said, his eyes focusing somewhere just above the crown of my head.

“Anything, T,” I replied, even though a cold knot had formed in my stomach.

“Markus pulled me aside the other day and um, he wanted to pass along a few… things.” It was just like Markus to try and fuck everything up for me, even if we weren’t together. Even if I’d thoroughly ended things. Why could nothing in my world stay perfect, ever? I swallowed past the lump in my throat, willing my voice to not shake.

“I’m sure he wasn’t doing so out of the kindness of his heart,” I said coldly.

“Of course I took things with a grain of salt. We haven’t exactly had the best history, Markus and I, all things considered,” he said, finally focusing on my face, but the look of hurt that knitted his brows caught me off guard. “But he told me that you two were still together, that you slept with him again, when you had told me you wanted to be with me. When you were supposed to have broken up with him. And you never told me about that, and your nonadmission might as well have been as good as lying to me,” he continued, his voice cracking slightly.

“I… I’m so sorry,” I tried, my brain still processing what he was saying to me.

“I’ve been wrestling with this for a few days, whether to ask you about it or not. Whether to strike a divide between us or not. I’m forgiving, but relationships have to be founded on trust and communication, neither of which you’ve given to me, and that hurts.”

“I tried to break up with Markus. I tried to tell you that I failed. I felt so...humiliated and… ashamed. Of my history, of my weakness, of this shitty pattern I’ve never been able to get myself out of. I never meant it to hurt you, so I thought I could protect you from… me,” I said, stumbling over the words, unable to keep the tremor out of my voice. “You have to believe that, please.”

“I believe you, it’s just a misguided principle, really. Relationships sometimes hurt. Sometimes you have to be raw, and open, and vulnerable, and ugly in front of the other person, and sometimes that makes them hurt for you, because they love you. I want to accept your flaws, your imperfections, but I can’t do that if you won’t open up to me. I can’t do that if I can’t trust you to be honest with me. I can’t do that if you try to protect me from the difficult, painful bits. I can’t do this, if you won’t extend that to me,” he said into the dead silence of the room. My heart was near pounding out of my chest and I felt the need to get sick.

“What are you saying, Taron? Are you breaking up with me?” I asked softly, tears already threatening in my eyes.

“I just need...some time. To think. To know where I stand. I am hurt, and you’ve got to learn that there are consequences for your actions. But I’m not leaving you, no,” he said as evenly as possible. “I told you I loved you, through the hard times too. I stand by that. I just need you to try and earn my trust back,” he said softly, brushing his fingers lightly over my chin.

“Okay,” I sniffled slightly, feeling the shame burning in my chest.

He leaned over and set the key on the coffee table, the clink of the metal against the wood top making me cringe slightly, before he stood up and turned to me.

“I’ll see you around at the studios. We’re not going to be strangers. But there is this wedge we need to deal with, and I hope you can understand that.”

“I created it,” I said, a couple of tears rolling down my cheeks. But I couldn’t pity myself; I had done this. I had turned Taron away from me, yet again. I had made a muddled mess out of something that should have been good and pure.

“Hey, no need to cry. We will work through this, alright?” he said, tipping my chin up to look at him, but his face was fractured into a thousand tiny pieces through my tears.

“Why would you want to? Why aren’t you pissed off at me?” I asked, pulling away from his touch, his arm returning to his side awkwardly.

“I was, at first. But I try incredibly hard to not act out in anger. It never leads to anything good; it tends to cause more problems than it solves. I also know that even while you had promised to choose me, you really hadn’t, not yet. I wanted to believe I’d be enough to convince you...” he trailed off.

“Fuck, of course you are, T. You’re the best thing that’s ever really happened to me. And I keep trying to ruin it, so maybe you’d be better off without me dragging you down,” I said harshly.

“Stop, stop. I won’t let you talk about yourself that way,” he said, kneeling down in front of where I sat on the sofa, directly into my line of sight again. “Your self-loathing won’t help anything. Please see that.”

“Maybe I’m one person you can’t fix. Maybe no one can,” I said shakily, and Taron sighed deeply.

“I hope this feels better in the morning, but going around in circles on it with you all night won’t help either. I’m going to take my leave, and you should get some sleep, and we’ll figure out how to move forward together. That is, if you still want to.”

I couldn’t give him an answer so the silence between us yawned open until he stood up and placed a soft kiss on my forehead before gathering up his jacket and letting himself out the door. I’m not really sure how long I sat there, staring at nothing, thoughts whirling around my head. Time passed me by unnoticed until Clara padded barefoot into the room.

“Mum?” she asked, and I startled back into reality.

“Yes dear?” I asked, trying to push back the edges of darkness I felt threatening to overcome me.

“I got sick in my bed,” Clara said, starting to cry.

“Oh, honey,” I said, instantly sweeping up off the couch and going to attend to my sick daughter, cleaning the linens and giving her medicine and crashing in my bed with her that night, her feverish little body shivering next to me as I held her tight. At least I had this; I could look at my bright, inquisitive, beautiful daughter and know I had a hand in bringing her up in this world, hopefully teaching her how to avoid the pitfalls I’d fallen into in so many ways. I was grateful she was still young, that boys still had cooties and she was still years from her first kiss, her first love, her first heartbreak.

By the time the morning rolled around, neither Clara nor I had gotten much sleep, as much from Clara’s illness as from my dark thoughts. I called my mum to see if she could watch my sick kid while I went to teach classes and later Rocketman rehearsals, and of course my mum was all-too-kindly available to come over. I tucked Clara in her own bed, glad that her fever had come down overnight, and called school to tell them she wouldn’t be in that day while I waited for my mum to arrive. I made some coffee, desperate for the caffeine boost, and when my mum finally made it across town I blearily stumbled through my day.

I couldn’t help glaring daggers at Markus’ back during rehearsals every time he wasn’t looking, which was most of the time, but I knew that was petty. It certainly wouldn’t make him apologize for ratting me out to Taron, and it wouldn’t take back what happened between us either.

By the time I got home I was completely exhausted, but Clara was feeling better and I couldn’t just crash out, even if my mum offered. I shook my head, telling her she’d done enough already for me, and sent her home with a thank-you pound note she tried to protest but I slipped into her purse anyway when she wasn’t looking. I ended up tossing a frozen pizza in the oven, but found it difficult to choke down the calories, while Clara didn’t seem to notice how little I ate as she chowed down on her slices. We watched a movie together, and I admittedly might have nodded off a few times, the Disney songs drifting in and out of my dreams.

I was so happy once Clara was tired enough to put to bed; I even skipped a shower just so I could faceplant in my bed that much quicker. I missed Taron’s warmth next to me as I pulled the blankets tightly around me. He promised we’d be okay, but what if he found more reasons to stay away from me in this temporary absence? What if he didn’t really miss me all that much? What if I was the one that was unlovable? I shivered slightly under the covers, the darkness creeping even closer than it had before in my mind, threatening to take over as I sank into a restless, dreamless sleep.

That darkness that resided inside my brain manifested itself in my attempt to control my calories; every little thing I put in my mouth had to be accounted for, and controlling my diet seemed to help me calm my nerves. Even when everything else felt like it was spiraling out of control, this one thing I could have total control over. I had exactly one scrambled egg white and 8 ounces of a protein shake in the morning, a 150-calorie protein bar at lunch, a handful of plain unsalted nuts for a snack to sustain my energy, and usually made some fish and vegetables for dinner. Eating for two was an absolute myth; I was religious about my prenatal vitamins and making sure the growing baby inside me was still getting the crucial building blocks it needed. But overeating wasn’t going to help either of us so I stuck to my routine, obviously varying things up for Clara so she wouldn’t be bored or wrinkle her nose up at my dinners.

Over the next couple weeks of classes and rehearsals, I started to see an instant change in my arm and leg tone, and that made me at least happier. I had been needing to lose that unnecessary weight for years, and even if I couldn’t stop my belly from getting bigger, I could stop the rest of me from following suit.

As we headed full on into the summer months, the weather grew hot and sticky, as London weather was wont to do. We’d been rehearsing the Broadway musical-style choreography for “Bitch is Back” for a while in the studio, but were finally taking rehearsals outside, into the back lot to do some initial blocking. Taron was of course there, sporting some mockup cardboard wings that looked completely ungainly to manage. But somehow he did, as we danced our way through the piece and Dexter showed Taron and Matthew Illesley, who played the youngest version of Reggie, how the scene would operate.

I could feel the sweat trickling down my back, down my arms and legs, dripping off the edge of my nose. We were all allowed to wear our sunnies since it was a rare bright day in London and we weren’t officially filming yet. But when the production was able to secure the Pinner Street location, we would all need to be ready to go, so putting in this work now was important. They made us take a lot of breaks, providing Gatorade and water in massive jugs to keep us all hydrated, but I was beginning to feel rather sick to my stomach and had to fight through the nausea for the rest of the rehearsal.

Seeing Taron there, being so close to him and yet feeling far away, was painful. He acknowledged me, but it was mostly in a professional manner, and I could feel the difference in my bones. I wanted nothing more than to have him scoop me up in his arms and hold me to him, but that reality had been shattered. There are consequences to your actions, Juliette, the words popping into my brain and making my heart ache. I couldn’t run from those consequences; the only way to move forward was to accept them and move through them.

But how was I going to be able to prove to Taron that he could trust me, when we weren’t even spending time together? What grand gesture could show him how much he meant to me? I wasn’t really sure, and these thoughts hounded me throughout the day.

The next few days were much the same, the temperatures staying sticky hot and making me feel worse for wear. Pregnancy and heat did not go well together, and I found myself taking a few more breaks than everyone else, coming up with some lame excuse as I hadn’t told anyone on set I was pregnant. Only Taron and Markus knew that, and well, we all know who actually did his part to check in with me, concern written all over his face.

But then rehearsals suddenly ground to a halt, and we were left in a strange holding pattern as the production moved onto other scenes, keeping to its schedule and of course keeping Taron very busy. We had a couple short rehearsals to keep the choreography fresh in everyone’s brains, but there wasn’t much else for us to do. I focused more on teaching my classes, texting off and on with Taron when he’d ask how Clara was doing.

<She’s got a recital next week, if you’d like to go. She’d probably like that; she’s been wondering why you haven’t been around as much. I just told her it was because of work.> I responded one evening.

And be there he was, dressed in a sharp navy suit coat, a white shirt underneath, and pressed slacks, looking as handsome as he ever did. Sitting next to him was almost intimidating, stealing glances at each other, sharing awkward smiles with each other as we waited through student after student, some well-practiced, others not so much, waiting for Clara’s turn.

When she got up on the stage, I could hear a bit of an audible gasp from the crowd; my opinionated little girl had chosen to don a sequined, sparkly pink jacket over her recital dress, and she had on a pair of star sunnies too, “just like Elton!” she’d declared when I’d tried to convince her otherwise.

“That’s our Clara,” Taron grinned over at me with a chuckle, before looking down at my hand and slowly taking it in his. I sucked my breath in slightly, still staring straight ahead as Clara took a seat at the piano. “You look beautiful today,” he whispered in my ear, taking in the light summer dress I’d chosen.

“Thank you,” I said, glancing over at him, those dimples of his causing my heart to flutter again. That special thing we had, it wasn’t gone by any means. We sat through my daughter’s songs, Clara gamely making it through Bach and Debussey with only a few stumbles, before getting to play a chosen song. And of course she’d chosen “Your Song,” playing it with gusto to much applause and appreciation from the audience. She gave an enthusiastic bow after her performance and skipped off the stage, returning to us excitedly as we were still clapping for her.

“Lovely job, sweetheart,” I said happily, giving her a huge hug.

“I think Elton himself would be very proud,” Taron added, making Clara grin so big she was showing off her toothless gaps.

“Yeah, if only he’d been able to watch it,” she sighed, making us both laugh.

“He’s a very busy man, but maybe some day you could play for him,” Taron said, as I playfully slapped his arm.

“Don’t promise her that!” I hissed slightly under my breath, but Taron waved it off.

“I’m sure I could get it arranged,” he said, as Clara fairly begged Taron to stay around for dinner. He obliged, and it turned into a really decent evening, the first one I felt I’d had in a bit, even after Clara commented “ewww, fish again?” when I served us dinner. He stayed long enough to tuck my daughter into bed, but said he probably shouldn’t wear out his welcome, though we lingered too long at the doorway, unspoken words and feelings passing between us.

I was actually at the academy when I got the phone call that the Pinner Street location had been secured, and that we’d be needed on set within a few hours. I scrambled to get my afternoon classes covered and made sure mum could pick up Clara from school before heading over to the studios, arriving just in time to get through hair and makeup. We changed into our costumes and were all boarded onto a shuttle and driven across the city, dropped off on a suburban street where crews were already busy setting up rigging for the cameras.

The place was an absolute blur of activity as us dancers huddled in the shade of some trees, trying to stave off the bright sunlight. We used each other to stretch and warm up, a steady hum weaving through the shimmering air as directions were shouted loudly, people running frantically to and fro. I hadn’t imagined this much chaos as the rest of the production had always been incredibly orderly. But I supposed this could happen with locations in the streets; it probably was a pain in the ass to secure city permits to shut entire blocks down for filming. When the city gave you a window of time, you had to spring into action; there would be no dragging feet here.

This sequence, of course, was an important element of the story that brought Taron into the picture as a sort of segue from rehab into his childhood years. It involved the other patients in rehab and the counselor, a brass band, and Taron in a bright orange neoprene Elvis-inspired devil costume with massive wings. The first time I saw him in it I nearly tripped over my own feet. The costume left very little to the imagination, but it was also somehow fitting to the vision of Elton that Dexter and Taron had created for the film. Elton at times played the devil, but he could also be the angel, and in many ways he was neither and both at the same time in his own story.

I loved the energy of this part of filming; the heat, not so much. The makeup crew constantly had to step in and powder us all between takes, and I’m sure our costumes weren’t going to smell very nice by the end of it. The filming day was kept short, as there were heat advisories and the production certainly didn’t want anyone to pass out. The heat sapped the strength right out of my body, and I wondered at how weak I felt as I made my way home, knowing I’d have to fight through the next few days in the same way.

The weakness in my body didn’t really abate the next day, and was joined by more nausea. Even if I didn’t get sick, I still felt turned inside out. I could barely stomach water, but I made myself push it down nonetheless. If my performance suffered for it, no one said a word to me. The third day, the dizziness hit me like a sack of rocks, making me stumble into another dancer and completely ruining the take. I mumbled my apologies and tried to concentrate the best I could. My muscles knew the motions; my brain couldn’t keep anything straight so I tried not to think too much and let my body do the work it knew by memory.

But some things you cannot win against, no matter how hard you fight. Weeks of undereating had caught up to me, leaving me emptied out; spots began to dance across my vision, my skin flushed cold despite the heat, and I found it difficult to breathe. I vaguely thought someone was calling my name, but I couldn’t hear them over the rushing in my ears. The music continued on, but my body did not; I dropped to the ground and stayed there. I don’t remember hitting the pavement, but I came to with my face burning, pressed against the hot surface. I was dimly aware of people gathered around me, and I thought I heard Taron yell at someone to “get these bloody wings off” before bright orange swam into my view.

“Juliette, can you hear me?” he asked as he knelt down beside me, the material of his costume stretching taut over his thighs. I don’t know why my brain focused on that, but I couldn’t move my head enough to look up at his face. The crystals glittered almost painfully bright in the sun as my vision went in and out of focus.

“She’s probably got heat stroke,” one voice said.

“Give her some space,” another added.

“Where’s the fucking medic?” someone else in the throng of voices shouted, my brain picking these out amongst the murmurs.

Did I really look that bad? I wondered, unaware of how crumpled I must have looked. Someone brought over an umbrella and at least shielded me from the sun; someone else tried offering water but I could neither hold the bottle nor swallow when it was poured into my mouth, vomiting onto the pavement instead, a strange thought that I should be embarrassed weaving its way through my brain, too wispy for me to grab onto.

I felt my body being moved as my pupil reaction was checked, my pulse taken, my body fussed over. Words were said that I didn’t understand and then I was being lifted through the air on a stretcher and pushed into the back of an ambulance. I flicked my eyes around at the faces staring down at me, the hands pushing IV lines into my arms, everything blurry and strangely in slow motion.

And then I felt the sharpest pain in my abdomen, making me cry out. I instinctively tried to curl into a ball but the straps held me down, and I started to feel panic rising in my chest as another sharp pain wracked my body. I clutched at my stomach, gasping out something incoherent; this wasn’t right, and I knew it could only mean something terrible was happening.

“Oh god, the baby,” I heard Taron say, his voice sounding too loud and tinny to my ears, my secret spilled out for everyone within earshot to hear.

What was happening to my baby?, I thought, as more hands poked and prodded me, more needles stuck into my flesh, more words were said I couldn’t make sense of. All I could understand was the shivers that shook me, the pains that tormented me, the blackness that threatened to overtake me. The noise was too loud, the siren, the beeping machines, the medics’ voices, the rattling of wheels over roads as we sped toward the hospital, the hush of the cast and crew we left in our wake, growing in a cascading crescendo inside my brain until, mercifully, there was silence.

I began to float into the void, the absence of noise, of feeling, of the physical realm, detached from what was happening to my body. The darkness came up to meet me, soothing me, warming me, easing me into slumber, the medicine working through my veins, easing the fire in my body. And then everything, everywhere, went black, and I was gone.

This is not the end of the story. Read Chapter 9 HERE.

#taron imagine #rocketman fanfiction #taron egerton #taron fanfiction #taron x reader

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randomoranges · 4 years

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amnesia au part 138

It turned out to be a long and cathartic talk. After Étienne said a few words, he quieted down and let Emma say her piece. He listened attentively and lent her the ear he had refused her for these past few months. She talked about how she felt, how angry she had been, how hurt she still felt, and Étienne listened on. There were tears, a lot of them, and a fair amount of reaffirmation of feelings as well. Friendships went through their ups, but they also went through their downs. The important thing was, Emma told him, that she was still his friend – would always be – and that she was there for him, whether he wanted her to be or not.

It cracked a smile and elicited a laugh out of Étienne and it was proof that they would be okay. Once Emma was done, Étienne quietly explained what had happened in his own words and what he had been up to since he had left Montréal. He told her of the peace he had found in his brother’s family, of the calming balm spending time with the kids was, of the water aerobics class he found himself liking and the conversations he had with the participants. He told him about his progress with his therapy, both physical and mental, and of the myriad of other little things he had become attached to in his new, quiet little life.

“D’you plan on staying there permanently?” She asked, hours and hours later, and it almost felt like one of their chats when they’d been teenagers, staying up far too late to talk and talk and talk, until the sun started to rise and they said one final good-bye.

“No – I don’t think so.” He’d thought about it – about getting himself a place here and moving his life. He’d be closer to his brother, to his nieces and nephew and his parents as well, but – this wasn’t his life. This was the quiet interlude he needed to get better and refocus. Regroup his energies and then be ready to attack his chaotic mess of a life back home to make sense of it again.

Eventually.

“I don’t know how much longer I’ll stay here – I don’t feel ready to go back just yet, but as much as I love it here, it’s not home, you know?”

She told him she understood and they kept up their conversation, Étienne inquiring about what she had been up to, Emma regaling him with some tale, both trying to get back to something familiar and normal.

“I’m glad, you know? I’m glad you’re here,” Emma said after a while, growing a little quiet, “I was so afraid – that you’d... done something bad to yourself. In a permanent way. And that – that I wouldn’t have been there to stop you. Or help you. Or tell you how stupid you are. Or how much I love you.” If her voice cracked, Étienne didn’t comment and instead held his breath, trying to keep his own emotions under check, “I’m glad you’re getting help and I’m glad you’re doing better. Just – never do this to me ever again because I can’t imagine a world without you, okay? Please?”

There was the sound of a sniffle and Étienne wouldn’t have been able to say who it belonged to, “Promise. And – you can’t either, you know? I need you in my life as well – until we’re old and senile.” There was wet laughter on both ends and Étienne wished Emma was here. Wished he could pull her in his arms and kiss the side of her face. Hold her close and furrow his face in the crook of her neck. Roll his eyes at her as she glared at him for being daft.

“D’you think I could come visit you?”She asked, as if she could read his mind, like always, “Trois-Rivières isn’t that much of a stretch from yours. I’d really like to see you,” She sounded so fragile, so small and Étienne hated that he’d made her feel that way, vowed he’d never let it happen again.

“I’d like to see you too – I’m free this weekend. You could come over – or, I could take you out. You could meet me here and we could go out – just you and me, like before.”

“That sounds good – I’d like that – just you and me.”

Étienne promised he’d text her the address of the place later and that they’d iron out the finer details when it wasn’t quite so late. They stayed on the phone for another hour or two, even though they were both exhausted, but Étienne had to admit that even though it had been an emotionally heavy conversation, he felt lighter than he had in a really long time.

PREVIOUS: CXXXVII

CURRENT: CXXXVIII

NEXT: CXXXIX

#pc: montreal #pc: ottawa #emma dubois #emma whatshername #étienne maisonneuve #au #ficlet #3 sentence fic meme thing #amnesia au

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doom-dreaming · 5 years

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Big Sigh: aka my thoughts on BL3

Okay. It's 4 in the morning and I have managed to fuck my sleep schedule completely sideways and I've been reading people's complaints and criticisms for about an hour now so here's what I have to say about Borderlands 3. This is gonna get long, buckle up.

Borderlands 3 has potential that was never fully realized and it seems half-finished and underdeveloped.

Now, you might want to take this with a grain of salt because I haven't actually played it for myself yet, but I've been watching streams of whatever I can get my grabby little hands on and here are my impressions.

I agree with the majority of you who say it was a disappointment. I feel like we were overly hyped. Maybe it was just active imaginations and excitement and love for the series, but when my friends and I can come up with at least three different storylines for the twins alone that are (in our opinions) better than what actually happened?? Something went wrong, narratively.

You all know I could talk for hours about all the different visual aspects of just Troy and how we got answers for virtually none of them - but I won't fixate entirely on him this time around.

In general, there's some kind of disconnect between what we were expecting and what we got. Characters seem one-dimensional or just "off" in some way, and granted, it has been seven canonical years since BL2 (so about five since the events of Tales, if I remember my timeline correctly) and people do change. Seven years is longer than you think, especially in an environment where literally anything could happen.

But in order for that change to be believable, it needs to be backed up by canon. I'm not saying we should have gotten a bunch of side quests that detail the years between then and now for every single character, but even just a few lines here or there as we go about our missions would have been better than leaving a gaping hole. Too much of a hole is not "let the audience fill in the blanks," it's just bad writing.

Rhys and Vaughn? As far as I know, they barely acknowledge each other. I know a lot of people are displeased with Vaughn's development and while I like the feral Vaughn, it's just a single aspect of his character. In Tales, we got to see him transform from a nerdy, gun-shy dude into someone who embraced the danger of Pandora and learned how to roll with the punches. I'm glad to see how confident he's become in BL3, but again, I feel like they distilled his character down into just one basic part.

I was actually pleased with Rhys, to be honest. I think his voice acting captured the essence of Troy Baker's, and I think he retained more character fidelity than some of the others.

Fiona, Sasha? We don't necessarily need to see them (though I would have loved that), but even overhearing a conversation from some NPCs regarding "those grifters Rhys used to run with?" "Oh yeah, I hear they're Vault hunting now" would have been fine. Just something to acknowledge that they're out in the world doing something.

I've heard big complaints about Aurelia and while I haven't played TPS and don't have too much of a grasp on her character, I can see the frustration. From what I've gathered, she doesn't seem the type to go full bloodthirsty, full money-hungry like she was made out to be. Again, seven years can change a person, but if you're going to make a change that seems out-of-character without context, then give us that context. Once more, it seems like a distillation of character to further a plot that, frankly, would have been better and more interesting if they hadn't done it.

I'm going to briefly touch on the whole Aurelia/Troy thing again (weird jealousy aside) because I've found out why it rubs me the wrong way. The twins don't operate like that. From all other negotiations we see, it's either cunning diplomacy or brute force. Aurelia didn't need to fuck Troy to get him to torture Monty Jakobs for the Vault Key. He would've done it anyway. This whole thing seemed like an attempt at an obligatory sex joke that, again, needed context to make us believe it could reasonably happen. But instead we got nothing, just a weird scene that seemed out of place for both characters involved. The only thing it contributed was foreshadowing that "the sister always wins."

And speaking of the twins, here's the meat of the problem: wasted potential.

Let's look at what we've got. Sirens. Twin sirens, one male. Already a game-changer. These guys are a living, breathing anomaly in the rules of this universe. Add in the beautiful religious aesthetic and the mystical Great Vault and we've got ourselves some amazing options.

But what did we get? We got a lackluster sibling relationship (although it did have some gems, I'll admit). We got a half-hearted betrayal that ended up amounting to nothing. And in the end? We got our ultimate villain on a quest for more power. Y a w n.

Why doesn't Tyreen listen to her father as he pleads with her? Why does she hate him so much? Where's our context?! It seems like a lack of communication more than anything. Typhon never once refers to Tyreen as a monster, which is how they saw it growing up. In fact, she seems to be the favorite. He calls her "starlight." He begs her to listen, that the Great Vault won't give her the power she wants. He's remorseful of how he raised them, resigned to what they've become, but up until the end he's trying to convince her to stop until it reaches the point where he knows he can't anymore.

What got the twins from point A to point B? I get it, shitty parental behavior leaves lasting trauma, especially when there's a layer of bad communication on top of it. But show us this, somehow. Please Gearbox, give us context. The vulnerable moments we got from the twins and Typhon left me wanting so much more of that, in particular. The talk about their childhood, the stargazing, Troy's admission about their mother, all of it was just a hint at something deeper that I feel like we never got to fully explore.

I feel that way about the whole game. Everything was the tip of an iceberg and we never got to see the rest underneath.

Imagine if Ty wanted to find the Great Vault because it would allow Troy to live a healthy, self-sufficient life. What a plot, huh? Supportive villain siblings? How dare I. What if they'd realized their mistake before it was too late. What if something woke up anyway? Something more ancient and more dangerous than ever. Let the Eridians have their time to shine. They've been a background force this whole series; pull the biggest twist and tell us that not all of their civilization was lost after all. For God's sakes, tell us more about sirens. We learned jack about shit for all their promises of "sirens will play a big part." Do the twins count as one? How do the powers pick the person?

This is getting incredibly long, so here are my closing thoughts. It doesn't feel finished. It feels like they released a half-finished ending to a series. The final events wrap up cleanly, hardly giving a new opening for a sequel, and yet there are still holes and loose ends galore in the story. I know that we still have DLC to get through, but given all of this, I'm trying not to get my hopes up.

Give us more story, deeper story, deeper characters, and most importantly, context.

Anyway. You know where to find me if you want rewrites and fix-its.

#bl3 spoilers #in this essay i will-#ash rambles #ash rambles about her murder babes

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akamaiden · 5 years

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Entertainer (1)

A/N: God, will I ever finish a fic without having ideas for a million others? This was clearly inspired by this song. I hope you like this one, I've been thinking about it for a long time. Don't forget to let me know your thoughts on this. I love you. 💕

Last note: This awesome moodboard was a gift from my kinky princess, @ivarsshieldmadien. Kalen, my darling, this chapter is yours! 💕

Pairing: Ivar x Reader (modern AU).

Warnings: Language? Sexy thoughts? Nothing too serious.

Words: 2,160.

Friday barely started and you were already checking on the clock, counting down the minutes to go home. You simply weren't in the mood to those ridiculous pick up lines and worse, the drunk men that were always trying to get into your pants. But what could you do? You needed to pay the bills and unfortunately, that place gave you a good salary.

You were watching the show that Natasha was putting on the stage, all eyes were on her. God, she was amazing. Usually, when she was dancing everyone stopped to watch but today three men were talking non stop and that was driving you crazy.

“C’mon we know that all you need is a drink,” one of them said.

“Damn right, you beautiful lady, my brother needs whiskey he's not in the mood today,” said the other.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes at them and went prepare their drinks.

“Three doses I suppose,” you said when you approached them.

“Exactly, what a smart lady we got here,” one of them joked.

“Can you be more stupid brother?” said the only one who was quiet.

“Shut the fuck up Ivar. We're trying to make you feel better,”

“Well, someone has to talk, you two are failing so badly. Your brother is about to kill you both just looking at you,” you said smiling.

That was enough to make the angry brother look at you for the first time in the night. He checked every detail he could get and you couldn't stop but blushed under his intense gaze.

“She’s right,” he smiled to you rapidly before turning his attention to his brothers once again.

“Hm I see she has the same humor as you, Ivar,” the redhead said.

“Let them be alone, let's enjoy the show. Come Ubbe,” and with that you were alone with Ivar.

“Ivar right?” you said.

He nodded while he was looking at his glass.

“Rough night?” you tried a conversation.

“Rough day,” he answered.

“If this comforts you, the day is almost over,” you said.

“You got a point,” he said.

“Oh c'mon in a matter of time you'll be back on the arms of the supermodel type of woman that you call girlfriend and you'll have an amazing time and everything will be fine again. Be patient kid,” you said.

Ivar couldn't help but laugh at your words. If all his problems could be solved with sex.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

“I’m Y/N,” you said extending your hand for him, but surprisingly he picked your hand and kissed it.

“Unexpected,” you said trying to ignore the electricity that you felt when his lips touched your skin.

“Not used to this kind of thing I suppose,” he teased.

“No, not really,” you said.

“C’mon you must have a boyfriend to kiss every inch of your body,” he said.

“Actually, I'm single,” you said shrugging.

“Oh that's bad,” he said.

“I’m not looking for a man, Ivar. I'm fine alone. You guys can be problematic sometimes,” you said.

“I wasn't looking for a woman too and look what I've got,” he said showing you his marriage ring.

“Wow, aren't you full of surprises?” you said laughing.

“Yeah, you can say that,” he said.

Before you could feel uncomfortable with the silence, he talked again.

“If you're not looking for a man, what do you want then?”

“Basically, money. I have a family to take care, so one million wouldn't be that bad y'know?” you said.

That made Ivar raised one eyebrow at you. Most of the girls wanted money for their own good, but you were thinking about your family in first place.

“Something wrong with your family? If you're okay to talk. No pressure here,”

“Uh basically when my mom discovered the cancer my father simply disappeared. And I wasn't working at that time and also I have a little sister… It was a living hell,” you said.

“Shit, that's bad. Looks like you really need some money,” he said.

“Yeah… What about you, Ivar? Why you look so sad?” you said touching his chin with your nails.

You watched the way Ivar closed his eyes and breathed heavily when you touched him. God, this whole situation is dangerous, you thought.

“I’m stuck in a shitty life. Working in a company I don't want to run in the future, married with a woman that doesn't love me, anything works for me,” he said.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Ivar,” you teased him. “I’ll give you another dose, okay? Whiskey always helps,” you said serving him again.

“It’s a good way to start,” Ivar said smiling.

“If I can help you with something else,” you said.

Oh little one, I'm sure as hell that you can help me, Ivar thought while smiling devilishly to you.

“Do you dance like her?” he asked.

“Not that gracefully but yes, I dance,” you said.

It took you less than one minute to read Ivar's gaze upon you.

“Do you want me to dance for you?” you asked.

“If that's okay for you, obviously,” he said.

“Well,” you started. Who were you trying to fool? Ivar was for sure one of the hottest guys you ever saw in your entire life and he was interested in you, you could say that only looking at him. He wanted you, and obviously you wanted him as well. The only problem was the ridiculously big marriage ring on his hand. But what harm one dance could do, right?

“I usually don't do that, but I can already tell you're the kind of guy that we must open exceptions,” you said leaving the bar and making your way to him.

“You’re spoiling me,” he said.

“You look like a child that just lost his favorite toy, Ivar. I have a little sister, remember? This kind of thing touches my heart,” you said now facing him.

You were internally thanking to all the forces that ruled the universe because you were wearing something sexy and not the usual leggings and t-shirt bands. The black skirt and the red corset fitted your body perfectly, putting on evidence every curve of your body. And the high heels were like the cherry on top of your look.

“Well, hello gorgeous,” Ivar said once he could look at you from head to toes.

“Do you like what you see Ivar?” you asked even knowing the answer.

“Fuck yes, I fucking like what I'm seeing,” he said and his hands were about to touch you but you stopped him.

“No touching, sweetheart” you said next to his ear while holding his hands.

He grunted in response.

“Are you that impatient?” you asked while you slowly started to dance.

“You don't have the slightest idea,” he said.

“Be a good boy and maybe next time I'll let you touch me,” you said when you started touching him. Your hands traced the muscles of his arms, his legs and before he could complain about it, you sneaked one of your hands into his shirt, you scratched his lower abdomen earning a low grunt of him.

“That’s not fair,” he said between greeted teeth.

“And that's exactly why it's so funny,” you said smiling.

Your cheeky way was driving Ivar crazy, and even that you forbidden him to touch you, when he noticed his right hand was wrapped around your throat and that was enough to make you freeze.

“You’re driving me fucking crazy, Y/N,” he said.

At first, feeling his hand actually touching you was surprising, you felt that same electricity making a shiver run your entire body. But the way he wrapped his hand on your neck, he was used to that kind of thing. You could tell that only looking at him. And the way he said your name? That was enough to make you wet and desperate for him.

“Fuck Ivar,” you whispered softly, almost whimpered.

Ivar smiled seeing the way that you melted under his touch so easily. He couldn't actually see, but he was sure that if he touched you, he'd find you dripping wet and ready for him. The simple thought was enough to make his cock twitch on his pants.

“I fucking need you, Y/N,” he said.

“Stop saying my name like that, please,” you said.

“C’mon I know you want me to fuck raw, right here and right now, Y/N,” he insisted.

“Ivar,” you moaned softly. God, he was driving you crazy.

“C’mon Y/N is our time to go and wow. Am I interrupting something?” Laila said all of sudden.

And as soon it came, all that tension went way with the presence of your friend. You blinked a few times trying to organize your thoughts.

“No, of course no. I was just talking to him,” you said.

Ivar scoffed. Yeah, sure, you two were about to rip each others clothes and you resumed that just as a conversation.

“Okay so, Brad will come pick me up if you want we can take you home,” Laila said.

You thought about it for a while. The last time you accepted the ride, you ended up almost in a menage a trois.

“Uh, no I think the subway station it's not that far,” you said.

If Laila was disappointed with your answer she didn't let you know.

“Ok then, see you tomorrow darling,” she said and left you alone with Ivar.

“Okay, I gotta go Ivar,” you said without looking at him. You were avoiding him, because you were afraid that if you looked at him for one more second you'd jump on his lap.

“I’ll drive you home,” Ivar said simply.

“Look I don't know what you're thinking but I'm not that kind of girl,” you said.

“I’m thinking that you're smarter than risk that beautiful neck of yours to go to the subway station,”

“What about your brothers?” you tried.

“Well, they can take an Uber. Who cares?” he said shrugging.

“I guess it'd stupidity to deny right?”

“Well, it'd be for sure,” he said.

“Okay, you won. Take me home,” you said.

“Let me tell you something, little one. I always win. If I didn't win yet, it's because the game isn't over,” he said.

The way he said those words made your skin crawl. He wasn't talking about just the ride, he was talking about literally everything.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you said once you saw Ivar stopping and getting the keys of a Jaguar.

“What?” he asked.

“Is it your car? A fucking Jaguar?” you said.

“Well, yeah,” Ivar said nonchalantly.

“Jesus fucking Christ. Are you a CEO or the richest drug dealer in town?” you asked.

“I’m just an heir, my parents are rich as fuck so, I didn't see that much of glory in having a car like that,” he said shrugging.

“You’re strange,” you said but entered the car anyways.

“Where are we going, m'lady?” Ivar asked as soon as he entered the car as well.

“I’ll show you the way,” you said.

During all the way Ivar kept talking to you, asking literally anything, since when it was your birthday until what's your favorite color. He was really interested, you could see that. And you were interested about him as well, he was fascinating to say the very least.

“Okay, we arrived,” you said.

“Do you live here?” Ivar asked.

“Hm, yes…”

“You’re definitely crazy. This is one of the most dangerous zones in the city,” he started.

“It’s the cheapest zone. I hate living here, okay? But it's everything I can afford, I don't have rich parents, okay?” you said.

“Okay, sorry. I was just…” Ivar couldn't finish. What would he say? That he was worried with a girl that he met a few hours ago? That was insane.

“Look I gotta go,” you said.

“Wait. I don't have your number,” he said.

You thought for one or two minutes. That was bad, you were already seeing how this would end.

“Give me your phone,” you said.

Ivar smiled at you and gave you his phone. You scoffed seeing his iPhone.

“You know, one of those would pay all my bills. Like easily,” you said giving him the phone.

“Don’t be so dramatic, little one,” he said.

“Idiot,” you said and looked at him thinking about what would you do now. Kiss him on the cheek? Hug him? He didn't make any move and that was driving you nuts. You decided to caress his cheekbones but different from earlier, he didn't stop looking at you and that made you freeze.

“Sorry. Oh and thanks for the ride,” you said and without waiting for an answer you left the car and went to your house.

Not any second later you hear the sound of his Jaguar and wonder if you'd meet this mysterious man again. Honestly, you were craving for it. You needed to see Ivar again.

Tags: @therealcalicali @hallowed-heathen @cbouvier23 @nothingeverdies @grungyblonde @alicedopey @ivarslittlebadgirl @ivarlothbroks @ivarswickedqueen @laketaj24 @ivarsshieldmadien @holydream @moondustmemories @readsalot73 @stanclub @floatautumnleaf @flokidottir-imagines-br @thisishowdynastiesareborn @attorneyl @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @meeeeeeeeeps @dangerousvikings @feistybaby @ivaraddict @ivarsrideordie @lisinfleur

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