#many books later he reflects on the chaos and confusion of that day but by then it's too late

[markantonys]

thinking about gawyn during the coup. upon first read i took min's pov of his behavior at face value and was like "oh no, he's being so scary and cold!" but going back i realized Oh.............Actually, He Is Incredibly Traumatized :(

Worry and fear filled his blue eyes, and his face was a mask of determination not to give in to them.

He was as tight as coiled steel, ready to burst out in any direction.

Most frightening to Min, with that blood-masked face and half-glazed eyes, with his body tensed almost to quivering and his hand upflung as if he had forgotten it, he never raised his voice or put any emotion into it. He only sounded tired, more tired than she had ever heard anyone sound in her life.

“If anything happens to them,” he said in that expressionless voice, “to Egwene or my sister, I will find you, wherever you hide, and I will make sure the same happens to you.” Abruptly he stalked a dozen paces away and stood with his arms folded, head down as if he could not bear to look at them any longer.

he was brittle, ready to shatter at the wrong blow.

[breaniebree]

I know it was explained but I’m still a little confused. Why did Harrys patronus change to match Ginny later in life? In the books that only happens to snape who was unhealthily obsessed with Lily and Tonks who was unhealthily pining after Remus. I guess my biggest question is that why didn’t it naturally match Ginny’s from day one? James and Lily and Theo and Kane all naturally match one another without it having to change for each other but Harry and Ginny’s only started to match after years of dating. So don’t misunderstand me Hinny is my favorite couple but doesn’t that make them less soulmates than the other couples who’s have always matched each others? The couples with naturally matching ones have naturally matching souls where Harrys only changed because of his strong feelings and because he fell in love. Again Im just as much a hinny lover as the rest of you but isn’t their matching patnrouses not at all representative of them being soulmates and actually just that Harry has strong feelings for Ginny? I feel stupid I know it was explained but Im still confused 😅

My second question is since you say they are soulmates, is that ever going to be shown mutually? We’ve really only seen it magically shown that Harry loves Ginny. His love for her broke the love potion, his love for her broke him out of the veela trance, his love for her is reflected in his patnrouses, so on and so forth. I thought it was going to be shown when Ginny was under the bloodlust potion when he planned to kiss her and break her out of it because she loves him, but it didn’t work at all lmao. So again I love Hinny and love everything that’s happened I just have noticed only Harry’s love for Ginny has been shown magically. There hasn’t really been any visible magic that shows Ginny’s love for Harry. Even though we all know she loves him too.

I’m really just curious. I know you still have a lot of story to tell and I’m simply wondering if I should hold out hope for a big beautiful magic something that shows Ginny’s love for Harry. Im a romantic can you tell? 😅

Like many have said I am also counting down the days until Third Times the Charm. Im still a little in shock over Zee’s death but I am hoping that it wasn’t in vain and that Harry gets Sirius back, and not just this zombie inferi version of him. At least then the twins will have one of their parents again. But also I dont want the wizarding world going into chaos because they all now think they can bring their loved ones back to life, so maybe Im not sure what I want 😅. Im super exicted to see how it all goes down

Hi, @hjpisunderrated

I did explain it yes. First of all, I don't believe that every person who is in love or the perfect match have matching Patronuses. James and Lily did, but Harry and Ginny didn't in canon and yet I felt it was perfect for Harry to have a stag and Ginny to have a horse. I wanted to keep that same thing here. However, I gave Harry multiple Patronuses to show the love he felt for his fathers. He was too young when he first created his Patronus. He and Ginny were friends then, but nothing more. To me, the idea that as they grew, as their love blossomed to more, and as they became intimate, it was the final step that gave Harry an additional Patronus that matched Ginny's. It doesn't mean he cares for her more than him, its just that he has more than one and she does not.

I disagree with the stronger feelings notion. The reason Ginny survived the potion was because of her love for Harry. Harry's ability to break out of these trances is because he is a very powerful wizard (Ginny is as well in her own right, but Harry is vastly more powerful). It is because of this strength that he was able to defeat his while Ginny's strength and her love for Harry kept her alive, even if the hold the potion had on her didn't break. I think it's this connection that further makes them soul mates in ways no other couple can quite compete with. Theo and Sebastian and Remus and Tonks are meant to be together as well and yes their bond is strong, they have matching Patronuses, and are very much souls in love, but Hinny are of a different breed in my mind.

Ginny loves Harry more than anything and I think I have shown that throughout the story. They will have many more moments together in TTTC

I hope Third Times the Charm has a few surprises for you to come :D

[jwillgoose]

This New Noise - programme notes

Dear Listeners,

I thought it might be useful for those of you listening again (or watching again, once it goes live on Friday 2 September) to our BBC Prom, This New Noise, to make the programme notes accessible. These were printed in the programmes on the night so those in the room would’ve got them, but for everyone else perhaps they’ll provide a bit of helpful context. Here we go...

THIS NEW NOISE

It is both a tremendous honour, and tremendously daunting, to have been asked to write a special piece in recognition of the centenary of the BBC; not only to write it, but to perform it with a group of musicians as talented as the BBC Symphony Orchestra under the guidance of conductor Jules Buckley, performed at the Royal Albert Hall. As a group, we’ve often tackled big subjects before, but there’s something uniquely intimidating about trying to reflect, in musical form, all of the BBC’s history and influence on our own country and the wider world. The question of knowing where to start is often the hardest obstacle to overcome.

In the case of This New Noise, that question also became the answer, in its own way. It sounds obvious, but: start at the beginning. How did the BBC start? Why? What did its creators and original managers, directors and creative thinkers think it was, and what was it going to become? How did its many technological and practical innovations change the course of the country’s history? How did it become, in the words of Charlotte Higgins’ book, whose title we have very appreciatively borrowed, ‘the greatest cultural institution our nation has known’?

To my mind, the biggest answer to the first of those questions (and one which may disappoint any Proms-goers hoping for a kind of ‘greatest hits of the BBC’s TV theme tunes’ compendium this evening) is that most wondrous of inventions: the radio. It’s easy to forget now how truly otherworldly these devices must have seemed to ordinary people. For the cost of a radio set and a modest annual sum, a new machine would enter your world; switch it on, and human voices, music, the miracle of sound would suddenly manifest themselves in your home, transported via the ether. That is how our concert tonight starts, an attempt to remind us all of the apparently simple but world-changing magic trick of transmitting and receiving radio waves, and featuring a recreation of the first transmission made in the name of the BBC, then 2LO in London.

From there we launch into the bombast of the title piece, a musical attempt to recreate the chaos, confusion and opportunity of the early days of broadcasting and featuring some of the musings of first director general Lord Reith and, then, former chairman of the Board of Governors of the BBC J. H. Whitley on the purpose and duty of broadcasting as an idea and an ideology.

Reith is a towering figure in the history of the BBC (and therefore this nation), and the third piece (‘An Unusual Man’) seeks to portray the kind of man he was, and the skills which he possessed and brought to bear on the nascent Company (later Corporation). The BBC still has, to this day, an air of ideological, quasi-religious fervour to its mission and purpose, and Reith’s childhood as the son of a Presbyterian minister in Glasgow, coupled with his unique qualities described in the piece, helped shape the BBC more than any other person in its history. He was only there for sixteen years but his influence and thinking have echoed down the corridors of Broadcasting House for decades since.

Reith’s BBC arguably did more to unite the country (and later, the Empire) than any other twentieth century institution. The opening of the transmitter at Daventry in 1927 enabled listeners across the whole nation to listen to the same broadcast simultaneously, for the first time. It also, depending on the atmospheric conditions, drew in listeners from further afield. Seth Lakeman guests on the fourth piece, A Cello Sings in Daventry, featuring the translated poetry of German poet Robert Seitz, who tuned into the first broadcasts from Berlin and found himself moved enough to write these beautiful words.

We are also taken on a guided tour of the venerable ‘temple of the arts and muses’, Broadcasting House, courtesy of the GPO film ‘BBC: The Voice of Britain’. The inner workings of this most innovative and august of buildings, the beating heart of the company even to this day, are revealed via Stuart Legg’s film, as well as a radio documentary from the early 1930s. 

The Corporation had significant time and resources with which to attempt to overcome many of the technical and technological hurdles it faced. Expensively imported ribbon microphones were one such hurdle; such was the BBC’s scale, it simply designed, manufactured and subsequently sold its own Type A microphone, as well as countless other innovations. George Bernard Shaw’s amusing observations about the power of the microphone are a nod to the BBC’s influence in this quarter; and, having been forewarned about the dangers of taking a drink and then taking to the airwaves, it felt only right to revisit one of our earliest tracks (Lit Up) and the gloriously, and occasionally profoundly, drunken commentary of Thomas Woodrooffe.

Penultimate piece A Candle Which Will Not Be Put Out seeks to address the unique lines along which the Corporation was instituted, with a heavy emphasis on public service and a disavowal of capitalist influence on the almost sacred rights and duties for which the BBC assumed responsibility. Its mission statement, as reported here by such luminaries as Sir Ian Jacob, Basil Binyon, William Haley and Lord Reith himself, could not be further from James Murdoch’s infamous Edinburgh Television Festival address over 70 years later (‘the only reliable, durable, and perpetual guarantor of independence is profit’, he informed us in 2009).

Attention in the final piece of the evening turns to the events to come. ‘What of the Future? (In Touch with the Infinite)’ are the titles of, respectively, the final chapters in Arthur Burrows’ book ‘The Story of Broadcasting’ and Reith’s ‘Broadcasting over Britain’. It is, in my view, a simple and inarguable fact that if the BBC continues to be whittled away at by governments on either side of the political divide, and even - potentially - expires, there will be many areas which it covers, and functions which it provides, which will simply cease to be. No private organisation, motivated by profit alone, would fund the BBC Proms season; nor Radio 3, nor 4, nor 6Music (without whose patronage our band wouldn’t exist), nor the various BBC orchestras (including the one performing so skilfully tonight), nor any of the multiple commercially unappealing but culturally vital services it provides to us on a daily basis for what - when compared with other, much-lauded delivery systems - amounts to a pittance. It will leave a vacuum, a void; there will be no more ripples in the ether, no more public-minded attempts to improve the education and experience (and cohesion) of this country. No organisation will truly take the BBC’s place; there will simply be an empty stage, and perhaps its influence and importance will only be truly felt if - and it sometimes feels like when - the BBC disappears.

I’d like to dedicate this piece to the memory of my friend Rebecca Teulet, and her family, some of whom I hope will be in attendance this evening. Rebecca worked for the BBC and believed passionately in its mission and purpose, even if, like many, she was occasionally frustrated by the way in which it functioned. I hope our concert is a fitting tribute to her life. She is much missed.

J. Willgoose, Esq.

London, August 2022

[kuroosmikasavolleyball]

…And Here’s My Gang

summary: you never believed in true love because during your long, 19 years of life, you’ve only ever experienced it through books and movies. But at a Valentine’s Day party in your second year of college, you come across a familiar face who just so happens to be single..and you’ve had the hots for him before. will you finally find love amongst the Cupid chaos?

genre: college au, fluff, suggestive

warnings: none

pairing: iwaizumi x f!reader

word count: 1.3k

a/n: there’s some hints of a smau in this chapter hehe

taglist closed!

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“That was totally my fault. I was about to ask for your number, but I think I got distracted somehow and left before I could. And then I got caught up with finals and college decisions, but I remember asking Kuroo for your number. He didn’t have it and I didn’t meet anyone else who was at the camp until first year of college. I think by then it just slipped my mind. Sorry; It all sounds like excuses.”

He shot one of his bright smiles at you. “You don’t have to apologize. I-it was my fault for not reaching out. Well, the past is the past. It’s getting kind of late, so I’m gonna head back to my apartment. But let’s meet up again, ok?”

You nodded and thanked him for walking you back.

He was about 10 feet away when you suddenly realized, “Hey, you forgot to give me your number!” He rushed back immediately and contacts were exchanged through giggles.

The next morning, your roommate was all packed up and left for the airport. You now had the apartment to yourself. If you were Bokuto or Kuroo, you might’ve just thrown a party or brought someone over, but the emptiness was calming for now.

The Psychology building on campus with its glass windows glinted with the sun’s reflection, which felt nice despite the cold morning. Even though a new semester started and it was a different class, you were familiar with the building from past classes. Your hands wrapped around a hot coffee as you settled down, looking around for nobody in particular. Your eyes did catch an unfamiliar being though, in a hoodie with some slightly spiked hair peeking out.

“Iwaizumi?”

“Oh thank god. I was not looking forward to another class with nobody I know. Can I join you?”

Your class, thankfully, didn’t have many people and students were able to spread out; you gestured him over with a tired smile.

“I didn’t expect to see you here. What do you major in?

“Sports science. I had an empty slot and the class looked interesting.” You continued your quiet chatter until the lesson began, and it went quicker with someone by your side.

The following week went surprisingly well. You saw Iwaizumi so much that it confused you how you hadn’t seen him before, forgetting he just transferred. You planned library meet-ups to do homework for mutual classes and to just catch up, wary that the librarian would kick you out for talking every time.

“I’ve done so much sitting recently that I haven’t even gone to the gym.” You groaned one day while studying.

“Wait can you take me? I didn’t have time yet to explore much of the campus?” You weren’t surprised; Iwaizumi looked like a gym buff, but not intimidating somehow.

“Yeah sure, we can walk around town and end at the gym.” You coordinated schedules and were personally way too excited for this date…hangout?

He met you near the side gate on a chilly Saturday and you showed him local eateries, a bowling alley that you decided to come to later, a park, and finally the gym. It was like he was at home. He even guided you around machines despite being new to the place. It felt…nice to have someone.

“Hey, I forgot to mention. Oikawa also just transferred this weekend. He didn’t come at the same time as me because of an impromptu trip, but the reason was apparently enough to let him join classes late. I was gonna go meet up with him later, wanna come?”

The last memory you had of Oikawa Tooru brought a smile to your face. That camp was one of the best things that happened in your senior year of high school.

“Yeah, of course. Do you mind if I invite some people actually? We could all go out for lunch maybe?”

The plan was set. You texted Kuroo, Bokuto, and Akaashi to meet you at Iwaizumi’s place, and went from there.

~~~

smau part below ⬇️

written part continued⬇️

~~~

The walk from the gym to Iwaizumi’s apartment wasn’t too far, which he was happy about. You told you would go back to yours to take a shower and meet him on the first floor of his apartment building. By the time you came back, Kuroo, Akaashi, and Bokuto were already there.

“Y’know, I’m proud of you for going to the gym. You’re usually a lazy bum.” Bokuto laughed at Kuroo’s comment. Before you could give a rebuttal, a familiar voice cut through.

“Oh wow, Iwa-chan. You really brought a whole entourage with you. Wait, Y/N? It’s been so long!”

The brunet rushed up to you and gave you a hug, which made Kuroo and Iwaizumi frown. You all toured the campus after getting Oikawa’s luggage set up in his apartment, and then went out to eat.

You were pretty tired from roaming around the whole day but were also glad. As annoying as Oikawa was, he brought more fun to the group, and you noticed Iwaizumi smiling more. Kuroo and Bokuto went back to their place and Oikawa sauntered off, complaining about being tired. This conveniently left you and Iwaizumi alone. Again. You realized you had been with him a lot more these past two weeks, like Kuroo had said.

Snapping you out of your thoughts was the guy who had made home in your mind. “What’s up with you? You’re being very quiet.”

“Just thinking, don’t worry. Are you going back to your apartment now?”

The breeze picked up, it being later in the evening as you both walked slow in the dim light and setting sun.

“I actually forgot to tell you. My roommate texted me; he said to try not to come home today…because he’s bringing someone home. If you know what I mean.”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the boy’s uneasiness. “Ah I see. You need a place to stay?”

He turned to you with pinched eyebrows. “Just for tonight. I’m sorry, this is so sudden. I would’ve asked one of the others, but Oikawa just moved here..and Kuroo and Bokuto left earlier than I expected. I forgot to bring it up. I can call them if you want, I don’t want to bother you-”

“Oh my god, it’s fine! You don’t need to keep apologizing; I get it. Lucky for you, my roommate just went home for something that came up, so I have an extra room. Now come on, it’s getting really cold.”

He thanked you and you both jogged home, trying to get your body heat up.

You threw your keys on the counter and ushered Iwaizumi in, who looked a little hesitant.

“Welcome I guess. You look really tense, are you ok?”

You were used to crashing at your guy friends’ places and vice versa, so it wasn’t too big of a deal that Iwaizumi was here. But something in you let butterflies loose.

He replied, “No, no I’m ok. Thanks again. I-uh only have these clothes. Do you have something I can borrow?”

You went to your closet and handed him an old dentist shirt and Kuroo’s sweatpants.

“I hope this fits…I’m going to get ready for bed. Here’s the bedroom, bathroom is on the left. I’m right next door so come in if you need anything.” He smiled again and you were almost mad at yourself for swooning.

You wiped off your mascara, changed, and got in bed.

“Hey, I’m about to sleep. How do you like your eggs?” Iwaizumi’s head poked in your room, his eyes roaming the walls. You were laying in bed, leaning on your palm.

“Huh?”

He shrugged. “Making breakfast is the least I can do for letting me crash.”

Why did he have to be so goddamn sweet??

“Oh..um…an omelette is fine. Thank you.” You chuckled, getting more comfortable.

“Goodnight Haj- um Iwaizumi.”

“Heh..you can call me Hajime if you want. Goodnight.”

He turned off the lights and you were then stuck thinking about him all night.

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if your username is in bold, I cannot tag you

taglist: @xybi @kwiwin @perqabeth @bakugouswh0r3 @silver-liner @mzstics @magpiemissy @lilith412426 @keikotaro @hajiiwaizumi @bangtanhits @shookykookie30

[not-majestic-bluenicorn]

TXT Universe Theory: The Dream Chapter

Hello and welcome back to another one of my theories! This theory will be quite long and will take into account everything in the first chapter of TXT’s story. I won’t be doing Minisode 1 or either of the Chaos Chapters yet cause it will give us all a headache if I do, so yes, there will be things missing. Believe me, I know, I’m just pretending like I don’t know anything for the sake of my mind XD Let’s dive into the theory!

The Protagonists

Name: Choi Yeonjun

Keywords: Promise, guilty, sleepless, apricity 

Association: Paranoid Park

Metamorphosis: Horns

Songs: Crown, Magic Island

Yeonjun is, perhaps, more relevant than his character wishes he was. Paranoid Park, the book (and perhaps also movie) he’s associated with, talks about a 16-year-old boy who accidentally kills a policeman and tries to cope with it while simultaneously hiding what he did. Yeonjun’s guilt can be seen almost everywhere. His Dream-Self grows horns during Nap of a Star, which are generally associated with evil and destruction, and in Crown he expresses his fear of being evil.

In the teasers for Magic Island he says “I think there’s someone else aside from us #itsmyfault”. And in the teasers for The Dream Chapter: Eternity he adds the hashtags #imscared #itwasjustajoke when revealing his association. He did something that makes him feel guilty. He possibly didn’t kill anyone (I mean, if anyone did, it’s most likely Beomgyu, but that’s not here nor there), but it hasn’t been revealed yet what he did do.

I associate Magic Island with him because it talks about promises and about the Odd Eye Cat, which I will talk about more in detail later, but suffice to say the Odd Eye Cat might have something against Yeonjun. There is a small chance that Yeonjun feels guilty about having forgotten their promise with the Star, since his word is promise. Everyone forgot, but maybe he’s more emotionally aware of it.

Name: Choi Soobin

Keywords: Tomorrow, invisible, understanding, apricity

Association: Le Doulos

Metamorphosis: Elongated ears

Songs: Eternally

Soobin is on the opposite side of the coin with Yeonjun. He too is aware about the promise with the Star, but in a very different way. He is perhaps what we would define as a traditional protagonist, as he can hear the voice of the Star well before anyone else can, even if he can’t remember the promise. The first time we see him perceiving the voice is in Magic Island, that is when he starts to feel separated from the group. He’s still unaware of it, but he knows something that the others don’t and that puts a wall between them. In the Magic Island teaser he uses the hashtag “#IThinkImTheOnlyOneWhosDifferent”, and in the Eternity concept photos he says “Why am I the only one having a hard time?” and “Everything is your fault”. He is also tagged as invisible, which alludes to the fact that he feels distanced from the others, and is also the only one to get no interactions on his posts. The fact that he’s blaming someone might be that he’s aware of the voice or that he knows someone in the group messed up.

Name: Choi Beomgyu

Keywords: Hope, unfair, relief, serenity

Association: The Catcher in the Rye

Metamorphosis: Spines on the back

Songs: ???

Beomgyu is an interesting if confusing character. Based on how he acts in the MVs, he seems to be rather headstrong and confident, much like the main character, Holden, of Catcher in the Rye, a story strongly related to growing up and leaving the innocence of childhood behind. Holden considers adults (and his life) to be quite unfair, doesn’t trust them, and wants to become a protector of the innocence of other children. However, much like Beomgyu, he’s rather headstrong and careless, moving forward without much consideration, which often gets him in trouble. These aspects can be seen reflected on the Magic Island Teaser, where he writes “What’s the problem? Let’s just do it. #rewind #hope #CantTrustAnyone, as well as the Port teasers from Eternity where he says things like “Who saw me that day?”, “We were all together then, right?” and “I don’t think this is the world I used to know” (which is tagged with “unfair”), and uses the hashtags #NothingToHide, #IsItMyFault?”. We do see him start the fire in both the Magic Island Teaser and MV, which might hint to the fact that he feels it’s unfair to blame him when they were all there, and he doesn’t actually believe himself to be at fault. He was just taking care of them.

Name: Kang Taehyun

Keywords: Clue, suspicious, breathe, serenity

Association: Philip Marlowe

Metamorphosis: Star eye

Songs: ???

Taehyun’s character is observant and prefers to stay on the sidelines to catch every detail before casting his judgement. In the Magic Island Teaser he says “There’s got to be a way out” with the hashtag #LetsThinkAboutIt, plus, in the Port Teasers from Eternity, he keeps a reasonable suspicion on his team members about who’s truly at fault and uses the hashtags #EverybodyLies and #IWantToKnowTheTruth. This ties in well with his associated character, Philip Marlowe, the private detective. Both characters keep a distance and analyze everything carefully, never resorting to violence. It is worth noting that he keeps Yeonjun’s teddy bear at the end of Run Away, which in the teasers is labelled as “clue”. Taehyun is always observing.

Name: Huening Kai

Keywords: Secret, lonely, longing, apricity

Association: Stand by me

Metamorphosis: Wings

Songs: Nap of a star

Huening Kai is perhaps one of the most complicated and mysterious characters in the story, since his role isn’t as established as the others. He’s constantly out of the loop about the situation that is happening, which is demonstrated by phrases like “What the hell is happening?” (Magic Island Teaser) and “What happened?” (‘Port’ Teasers) as well as the hashtags #OnTheSidelines and #IKnowNothing, as well as two of his keywords being secret and lonely. His associated media is also interesting, as Stand by me talks about a man remembering the trip he did with three of his friends when they were 12 to find the body of a missing boy. At the end of the movie, the main character Gordie, recalls his friends and comments on how much he’ll always miss them and how he’s never had friendships like that again. This raises the question if perhaps one of the boys would be the dead kid the others are trying to find. Kai being kept out of the loop could point to him being it, as he’s always trying to reach for them but can’t quite do it, however it could also be argued that either Yeonjun or Soobin could fill that space as well.

The Setting: The Real World vs The Dream World

Back on the very early BTS theories, a lot of us didn’t think time travel or time loops were the answer, but it turned out we were wrong. At first, when working on this theory, I wasn’t sure where I should draw the distinction between reality and fantasy. In the end, I’ve decided that everything is real but in different ways, and I’ve decided to make the distinction between the Real World and the Dream World; after all, this is called the Dream Chapter.

The Real World is, you guessed it, pretty much just our normal world. Nothing magical or physics-law-breaking to be seen here. The Dream World is, well, a world made of dreams. But remember I said everything is real (I know the names I gave the two realities contradict this, hit me up if you have better suggestions). Whatever happens in the Dream World is just as real as whatever happens in the Real World, it’s just in a different plane of existence. It might also be of interest to note that sometimes these worlds blend. 

So, if everything is real in the Dream World, what is real in the Real World? This is a complicated question because even our characters struggle telling reality apart from the dreams, especially because the dreams aren’t just dreams. The fires that occur in Run Away and Can’t You See Me are very much symbolic, but them jumping into the Dream World through the subway in Magic Island is real. The visions they have in Eternally aren’t happening in the Real World either. It’s just a matter of what is supported through other clues and pieces of evidence, which I’ll try to provide.

The Story

So, you know, what is like… happening? Everything is extremely confusing and it took me a while to understand that pretty much all videos are happening like, at the same time? As in, it’s the same event but from different perspectives and slightly different intervals of time. So let’s try to lay down a cohesive timeline.

It all starts with the events narrated in Nap of a Star. When they were children, the five of them (or well, maybe I should say six) met through the Dream world and became such good friends that they promised to meet there again. However, as it happens, they grew up and forgot about it, meeting once again many years later through the school and the company without remembering each other. 

While growing up, they have gone through many different things that have hurt and changed them, which manifested in their dream bodies as the “imperfections” that they all have. I believe these imperfections are tied to each of their characters: horns tend to represent evil, which ties in with Yeonjun feeling guilty and blaming himself for everything. Kai’s wings look angel-like, which fits his sweet personality who helps the “demon” (Yeonjun) and is always believing the best about his friends. Beomgyu is very defensive, which translates into his porcupine-like spines. Soobin is a good listener (plus he’s literally the first one to hear the Star’s voice) and Taehyun is good at observing the others. So these are all manifestations of how life has shaped them to be who they are now.

They become very good friends once again and get along well, nice! However, we know things are not perfect, and they have to confront a series of personal conflicts. Especially Yeonjun, who’s so overcome by the negativity in his life that he starts a fire that can’t be put out in Run Away. This fire is metaphorical, and represents all the pain and stress he’s been dealing with. So what do they do? They try to find an escape from all their troubles.

There’s two ways this could’ve happened: the first one is that they stumble with the Dream World by accident on the Run Away MV when they go in through the pool. This seems fitting because of their reactions. After that they research it and Soobin discovers that there’s a secret magical entrance at a train station, as we can see in the Sanctuary Photo Teasers from the Magic comeback in the official BigHit website. The other option is that this accidental discovery didn’t happen and they simply researched. This would turn their visit in Run Away into a “summary” of sorts of their first impression of the place.

[Translation:

Soobin: I saw how to find the hidden magic platform?

Soobin: When you close and open your eyes there, your dream becomes reality

Taehyun: Woah, cool

Taehyun: (not sure about this one) for real?

Soobin: Should we go together?]

Either way, they get there. Of course, as shown by the door being set on fire at the end of Run Away when Yeonjun looks at it, his worries aren’t entirely gone, but at least they’re under control now, or so it seems. This part of the video also ties in with the end of Nap of a Star. All of the children come together to help the “monster” and they reunite at the Dream World once again, awakening the Star.

After this, though, weird things begin to happen. Someone or something is trying to reach out to them, and causes them to have really strange dreams. This entity, presumably the Star as marked by the pieces of dialogue, even follows them to their practice room, and keeps begging them to remember them. Yes, I think the Practice Room Ghost and the Star are the same character (and I also think they represent MOA, in a way). 

[Translation: Remember my name.]

Here’s where the visions in Eternally come into play. The individual vision each of them has is, physically speaking, nothing more than that: a vision or dream. So they start having these visions, and some of them, especially Soobin who keeps hearing the Star’s voice, start doubting their reality. Plus, weird things start happening in their practice room, so no doubt they end up hearing about the Practice Room Ghost.

They have a conversation about it on the subway, and Soobin goes to mention he had a weird dream but then he backtracks. Obviously, he’s talking about the vision we see in Eternally, because he even says he always wakes up crying from it. In a split second, they decide to stop at the Magic Island using the method that Soobin found previously, and they go have fun there.

[Translation:

Yeonjun: Did you hear about the practice room’s mirror ghost?

Beomgyu: *sland for shivering* A ghost? Wow

Taehyun: I heard about it. There’s no ghosts, you’re just tired and saw wrong.

Soobin: I’ve had weird dreams lately *cries* Maybe it was because I’m tired...

Kai: Did you have a scary dream again?

Soobin: (deleted message) In the dream we...

Yeonjun: Ah, I shouldn’t have said anything.

Beomgyu: What’s scary about this? If there’s a real ghost let’s go and check at night *laughs*

Kai: Hyungs, stop talking about scary things please *cries*

Taehyun: Beomgyu hyung is joking about this too??

Yeonjun: Should we just go to Ttukseom?]

Naturally, things go wrong, what else were we expecting? Their antics end up setting the magic forest on fire, until they end up destroying the whole Dream World, and it leads us to the start of Eternally. One thing I believe to be very interesting is how, when they’re trapped in the storm, Soobin keeps touching his ears, Kai touches his chest like in Nap of a Star, and Beomgyu touches his shoulder. Yeonjun and Taehyun aren’t properly shown but they probably also touch the affected places.

I would argue that Can’t You See Me? is also just a reinterpretation of the conflict they’re going through, both within themselves but also as a group, because they did just destroy their secret place. This is pretty much where the current timeline ends. I’m a bit uncertain if they’re trapped in the Dream World or outside of it without being able to go back, because Taehyun does mention wanting to go back in the Port teasers, but he doesn’t specify where. I want to bet that they’re trapped in the Dream World but I do need to analyze the Chaos Chapter better to decide that.

The Practice Room Star

Yes, this is a play on words, as I fully believe that the Practice Room Ghost and the Star are both the same entity. When they were kids, they made a promise with the Star, but they’ve forgotten it with time, and now that they have reunited and found their way into the Dream World again, the Star wants them back. The Star is probably a very powerful being, since they are able to interfere with the Real World to reach to them, enough to make them confused about their own reality. Their bond seems to be stronger with Soobin, who’s even able to hear them reach out on occasion. It’s uncertain what exactly it is that they want.

The Visions (Eternally MV)

The night of the last day & Song of a Star (Soobin’s visions)

Eternally starts at the end of Magic Island, with the Dream World completely in ruins. Eternally happens before Magic Island, so this dream Soobin has at the beginning is nothing but a prophecy. In the dream, he is holding a book, which we also see Beomgyu with. I think this book is the one they got the information about the Dream World during the Magic era, since the cover is very similar to the symbols we can see in Run Away. 

I believe Song of a Star is the Star reaching out to him. He’s the first one to be able to hear the Star, as shown in Magic Island, and he also references the Star’s song in teachers. The kid he sees is probably the version of himself that first entered the Dream World as a kid (or maybe Kai lol), which might be why he wants to cry everytime he has that dream: it’s the nostalgia for a time he left behind.

Room No. 17 (Beomgyu’s vision)

While I’m not sure what the number 17 means yet, and my research on numerology yielded no results, this vision is particularly interesting to me. Through it we get to see Beomgyu’s more ‘brash’ nature as he defends the book that Soobin was seen holding previously. If that book is their key to the Dream World, then it makes a lot of sense that he’s trying to protect it. I’m not sure who the other person trying to stop him is, but it does kinda look like things didn’t go well for them after Beomgyu transformed. 

Girl of Eternity (Huening Kai’s vision)

Perhaps the strangest of names for visions, this clearly represents how the rest of the members keep moving far away from Kai and become unreachable to him. He mentions several times how he’s clueless about what’s going on and wants to understand, but the rest of them continue to keep him in the dark, so he feels a distance growing between them, which might increase in the future.

Moratorium of Rest (Taehyun’s vision)

Taehyun’s vision is perhaps the most shocking of all, as it shows us Yeonjun sitting on a chair and covered in spines and purple “paint”. Yeonjun is sitting in the middle of a field of all sorts of violets, and Taehyun tries calling him before realizing the condition Yeonjun is in.

Promise (Yeonjun’s vision)

Yeonjun shares the misfortune with Taehyun of seeing his lifeless corpse, except his vision is much less artistic about it. After finding his body, he sees a fire from the corner of his eye, and right next to it, you guessed it, the odd-eyed cat. His vision in particular finishes with the phrase “I thought it was salvation, then.” And here is where things turn south.

Yeonjun’s promise and the Odd-Eye Cat

I have a very strong reason to believe that Yeonjun is in danger of dying an awful death, and it’s only partially because of the visions. Since Nap of a Star, Yeonjun has been followed by the vigilant eyes of the Odd-Eye Cat almost religiously, and it usually never brings good situations with it. It’s bad enough that the neck cut in Nap of a Star is replicated in Taehyun’s vision, that Soobin sees Yeonjun all bloody in Eternally, and that both Yeonjun and Taehyun see the former dead, but there might be some external clues that hint towards Yeonjun’s upcoming demise.

In the official BigHit website for TxT’s discography, where we found out that Soobin researched and figured out the way to go into the Dream World, we can find a picture of Yeonjun reading a book. In English, this book is called The Alchemaster’s Apprentice. This book narrates the story of a black cat who sells its soul to a sort of wizard in exchange for food, since he’s starving to death. The wizard agrees to fatten the cat for a month, after which it will kill it and use its fat for magical purposes.

The cat in this book doesn’t have heterochromia, however I found out some pagan groups in Eastern Europe believe that a different colored eye was a witch’s eye, meaning that the eye has literally been swapped out with a witch’s. I fully believe that Yeonjun made a deal he shouldn’t have, and the Odd-Eye Cat has been sent by whoever made the deal with him to check on him. It might just be that Yeonjun’s time is going to run out very soon, and the visions are trying to warn everyone of that.

Conclusion

Magic exists and TxT might have bitten more than they can chew because they wanted to run away from the problems of real life (relatable). Now, the Star that they made a promise with is trying to reach them, and maybe warn them about something that’s coming. The fact is that they’re not safe, especially Yeonjun, and things might turn south very quickly very soon.

I’ll try to come back soon with the Minisode 1 + Chaos Chapter Theory update, but for now, if you liked this, please interact with the post and check out my other theories here!

[olivinesea]

In the Golden Dark

a/n: Having never done any ship writing before I’m just going to jump feet first into the deep end with a little Hotchreid for you today. It’s nice. No warnings except maybe some angst because we are who we are. Probably the softest thing you will see from me so enjoy the moment. Completely unnecessary disclaimer that I would find this relationship wildly inappropriate in real life but thank god we’re out here in the lawless fiction of the internet. And you’re getting full on song lyrics bc Hotchreid is nothing if not decadent af. There’s more but I’m impatient so here’s the first bit. ~ 2.7k

what the hell am I doing here in the golden dark? feeling like I’m someone else who looks the part I built up barricades to block my heart cause I don’t wanna fear you

He leaned back in his chair, reaching his arms up and clasping his hands behind his head, arching his back slightly. With his eyes closed it could be any time of day. He inhaled deeply and pretended for a moment that he was nowhere. He even gave himself a few extra seconds, indulging in the quiet that was the office at night. If only he could feel so peaceful in the right moments—before sleeping perhaps. When he opened his eyes all he could see was the reflection of his office light in the black windows. There hadn’t been daylight for hours. He’d switched off the overhead lights in favor of the small desk lamp that pooled the light only in the area of immediate relevance. Everything beyond its reach faded in and out of existence as his focus fell deeply into the forms in front of him.

He pressed his elbows back as far as they would go, pulling up slightly on the base of his skull, stretching out a day’s worth of stress, countless hours spent bent over report after report. He never could have imagined that saving people would require so much paperwork. Reducing the chaos of the lived experience, the searches and the takedowns, the intricate patterns of dozens of personalities layering choices upon one another; it turned out to be quite difficult to do. It took him hours to wrap up cases, even with everyone doing most of their own reports. Which, through no fault of their own, wasn’t always the case. He usually ended up siphoning off a fair number of those reports in addition to his own.

He didn’t mind, he needed to go over everything, needed to make sure that any possible negative feedback that came back would fall to him and he would be prepared if it did. His team were his responsibility, he would be neglecting his duties if he didn’t ensure that things were handled properly. None of them needed the headache of administrative errors. He was good with details, good with forms, good with protocol. He would happily be the filter that saved them all the trouble of little errors even if it hadn’t been part of his job.

But that didn’t change the fact that it was eleven o’clock on a Wednesday and everyone else had gone home hours ago. Only the late night janitorial staff wandered in and out occasionally, nodding at him in silent greeting as they reset the offices to give the illusion of an endlessly renewable supply of fresh starts. People that didn’t stay late never gave this transformation a second thought. They left the office with full trashcans and small debris scattered on the old carpets, only to return the next morning to find a place untouched by human presence, metal fixtures shining and glass doors free of oily fingerprints. That was just how the world worked for them, generous with new beginnings. People who lingered knew better, that effort was put into the effect. Beginnings were never easy, never flowed so inevitably as the set and rise of the sun.

Hotch had been working late for many years, long before he was even in the BAU. He had learned in law school how to brew the coffee strong enough to stay up all night if need be. How the indoor lighting changed without the support of daylight, tinting the world a thin sickly green color without the natural light to round out the fluorescence. He only got worse about it once he joined the Bureau, the stress of the job causing old habits and old secrets to float to the surface. He compensated by working the hardest, doing the most, never allowing anyone to see him need things that other people needed. He could handle this job, this was all he ever wanted after all. To save the world. Or maybe, more modestly, to save the world of a few.

Now, with Haley gone, Jack with her, somewhere well out of his disastrous reach, there was no reason at all not to fully give in. No reason not to let his insomnia at least be productive. To let the latent self destruction that fueled his actions at least have a positive impact on the people he cared about. He could do that at least.

He rubbed his face with his hands, he was getting loopy. There was no reason to be letting his mind wander so far, there were still reports he could get through. Perhaps, as unlikely as the idea felt, he could even get ahead. He looked back down at the paperwork, letting his feet settle flat on the floor. The letters swam in front of him and he sighed, rolling his pen beneath his thumb, considering. He could probably make it another hour. He could get another pot of coffee into himself. He cast about for his mug, finding it empty on the shelf behind him. He sometimes kept it there to prevent his reports from acquiring telltale dark rings. Rolling back from the desk, he hooked the handle with two fingers and headed out to the kitchenette.

Wrapped up in making plans for what he could finish tonight and what could be left for the morning he was startled to find a light still on in the bullpen. He was certain everyone had gone home long ago. They’d each passed by his office, offering him an out as they made their ways home—perhaps their exit could be the motivation he needed to break out of his office, to head towards his own home. What they didn’t realize was that home was not better for him. Work was far better, far safer, with tasks to complete, a purpose. If he was smart he would stay at work forever.

So he waved to them as they checked out, giving them small smiles that, though imperceptible to strangers, they recognized as both apologies and well-wishes. He knew they worried, that they didn’t like to see him tied to his desk late into the night. They thought it was one of his many methods for making himself suffer but he didn’t have the heart to tell them that this was him making a good decision, this was him trying his very best. In his experience, nothing good happened at home.

He thought he remembered everyone leaving, each goodbye. But every day was the same and they all bled together so he must have missed one because he cannot deny the light down below. As he walked down the stairs, confused by the discovery that he was not as alone as he had been imagining, his tired vision focused better. He could make out dark blond curls and a darker sweater hunched over the desk in the middle of the room.

“Reid?” The name came out as a croak, he hadn’t spoken in hours and probably hadn’t had any water in that time period either. He cleared his throat and said it again, louder and closer to the other man than before. Reid’s head snapped up, expression as guilty as a child caught out of bed.

“S-sorry,” he stuttered, eyes wide.

Hotch frowned, not because he was upset but because he was still a little disoriented and his muscles fell back into the most familiar actions.

“I—“ Reid ducked his head and started pushing papers together on his desk, shoving them haphazardly into a file folder. “I was just…” he trailed off, not really having intended on explaining himself. He was simply also startled and reverting to the familiar.

Reid explained compulsively, able to handle the world when parsed down to facts and numbers. He didn’t have a fact for why he had stayed so late, only a feeling and that he didn’t know how to explain. Nights had been particularly lonely recently so he had allowed himself to stay later and later, getting lost in his thoughts at his work desk. Even without people around there was a sense of occupancy, their faint impressions lingering in the air. Plus there was always Hotch up in his office. He didn’t actively think about him or what he was doing but he liked knowing the man was nearby. Hotch’s solid presence always made him feel more secure, less concerned with whatever might jump out at him from the shadows overlapping the world and his mind.

He couldn’t tell Hotch that, was far too embarrassed to admit that sometimes, even with all the lights on, it was too dark in his apartment. No matter the illumination, he couldn’t quite dispel the unease of the night when he was alone. It wasn’t always like this, sometimes he had enough brightness to spare. Recently, however, things had been hard. So much had been going on, he couldn’t quite pinpoint why but he knew he felt uneasy. Too much had changed, there was too much risk that the floor could still fall out beneath him at any moment. And it hadn’t been so long since he’d escaped the consequences of his kidnapping, his addiction, that he trusted himself to be able to manage too much more uncertainty. Backsliding was always a risk and right now the world tilted at a frightening grade. So he let himself stay late in the safety of familiarity, sometimes working but more often not, idly rereading the books he had brought in and forgotten around the office. Tonight he had actually started to doze off, which contributed to his shock upon being discovered.

Hotch continued to frown at him, watching as the thoughts raced across Spencer’s face. He noticed how deep the shadows were beneath his eyes, the way darkness pooled in the space below his cheekbones, as if they were concave impressions filled by seawater. He knew Spencer didn’t eat enough, was all too familiar with the ways too much coffee and not enough calories pinched the skin and exposed the fine lines of capillaries beneath the surface.

“Sorry,” Spencer repeated.

He looked genuinely ashamed and it made Hotch a little sad. Couldn’t Spencer see that he was just as guilty of whatever it was he thought he was doing wrong by being here? He made a conscious effort to soften his expression, to show the warmth he felt for the younger man. After having spent his entire life masking his emotions, protecting himself one of the only ways he could, it wasn’t always easy to show his affection. Especially not at this time of night, when all he could do was cling to his walls and hope to find himself still on solid ground when the sun rose. Spencer wasn’t looking at him, too caught up in his own maze.

“Let’s go get something to eat,” Hotch said, trying a different tactic. He was smart, he knew not to make it a demand or a comment on Spencer’s health. It was only an invitation, firm enough for Spencer to know he meant it, that it was not just a pleasantry or an obligation he’d rather avoid. A hand extended, an offer of easy company to pass through a little more of this unwanted time. Spencer looked up from where his fingers were worrying at the corner of the file in front of him and smiled shyly. Hotch smiled back, a real smile that scrunched up his dark shining eyes.

“Give me five minutes to close up,” he said and turned back toward his office. As he packed his briefcase, his heart felt like it had been wrapped in a soft blanket. He didn’t bother questioning it—who didn’t like finding someone to commiserate with when they’d only expected more of the lonely dark?

*

Their late night meals became a regular occurrence. Not every night but once, maybe twice a week, they found themselves the last ones in the office. They fell into a rhythm, each learning to read more from the other’s subtle cues. They almost always went to the same place, a 24-hour diner near the office with deceptively strong coffee and a seemingly endless variety of pancakes. Hotch rarely ordered food, though he encouraged Reid to get anything he wanted. He accepted bites of whatever the younger man ordered, happy enough to reciprocate the excitement over strawberry rhubarb or cinnamon blueberry pancakes.

They talked about inconsequential things, mostly Hotch listening as Reid spun out information on whatever topic was on his mind that day. Reid, for his part, made mental note of the things Hotch responded to and had opinions on. Spencer sought out more information in that vein to bring up. He loved to talk, sure, but what he loved more was to discuss. During the day there was rarely time to let his thoughts wander so freely. It was a dream to have someone there, following along and challenging him with questions, building up new conclusions.

On the nights that followed difficult days, when they were both too stubborn to order anything of substance, they drank their coffees and avoided looking at each other too directly. Those nights they were both tied up in their own thoughts, islands separated by more than just distance, but there was something undeniably pulling them together. It was probably just the natural consequence of having opposite dominant sides but they mirrored each other perfectly across the table. Once, they both happened to reach for their mugs at the same time and the backs of their hands brushed against each other. They each noticed but responded differently. Hotch repressed any reaction, pretending the quick touch of bony knuckles and cool skin hadn’t registered. Maybe it hadn’t. Reid, on the other hand, jumped as if shocked, sloshing the hot coffee into a puddle on the table. This only flustered him more and he yelped at the sting of the liquid and the sting of embarrassment. It wasn’t like they’d never touched before. But here, in this nowhere time they’d constructed, it felt different. In his mind that brief touch became nails dragging across his skin, impossible to ignore. But he pretended the mug was too hot and Hotch didn’t argue, quick to assist with napkins and sounds of agreement to accompany Spencer’s half-coherent excuses.

When their meals were done, mostly cleaned plates of syrup and crumbs stacked to one side, they hesitated before standing up. Hotch always offered to give Reid a ride home, Reid always declined, insisting he could get there himself. This led to Hotch giving him a doubtful look and insisting that it was no trouble. Reid, secretly wanting a ride the whole time, struggled to argue for his self-sufficiency a little longer before giving in. It became a silly thing, both of them knowing exactly how the argument ended but they held onto it for some reason. It was a part of their ritual now, an important piece of the night. It kept this, whatever this was, contained, strictly occasional, random even. Not something they planned for, not something they looked forward to.

Hotch waited for Spencer to get in the door of his building before driving away. He knew it wasn’t necessary, Spencer was a grown man and a trained FBI agent with a weapon. Still, it made him feel better to see him safely inside. Sometimes he thought he would feel even better if he could walk Spencer all the way to his front door. But he knew that would be asking too much. As it was, the nights when they shared this extra hour or two together, extended further by the drive home, had been giving him more than he could have imagined. He wouldn’t dare impose himself further. The brittle excuse of safety would crumble if he were to start following the other man inside. He was not ready to find out what that would mean. He smiled unconsciously as he drove to his apartment. For now, it was enough that he had found companionship on these late nights when he would otherwise be slowly, meticulously, working his way into the grave.

~Part 2~

[acid-hydrangea]

“I”

There was a boy named Sig, who had many, many questions.

*Note: Sig uses he and they pronouns in this work interchangeably.

Sig awoke to the gentle, blue hues of his room flooding his vision. The quiet morning air tinged with the sounds of birdsong and the beaming of harsh sunlight. It was 5:32 AM. The Fever Bird month had just begun.

They hoisted themself out of bed and opened the window, breathing in the crisp morning air soaking in his surroundings, he’d neglected the rough, coarse sensation on--in--through? his shoulder... He moved to the other end of his room, and upon checking the mirror they discovered that the ‘totally not worrisome’ crimson growths had spread further, practically covering his whole left shoulder, almost touching his neck. The natural ringing in his ears felt louder than usual. He stared for a moment at his reflection, his thoughts clouding his mind like an intense thunderstorm. Eventually, he broke eye contact with his reflection and got dressed for the day. 

He donned his typical shirt with the rest of his usual clothes, he went on his way, considering wearing their turtleneck sweater more often, despite the spring-summer heat.

--

    Sig’s gaze was transfixed on the clouds moving across the clear sky, like a herd of lazy sheep. Their thoughts drifted in all sorts of directions, but he wasn’t able to attach any words to anything he felt... Not even one, this time. He looked down at his desk, Accord’s voice and the sound of chalk against the blackboard fading into white noise as they scratched one of his left claws upon the desk’s surface. 

...What… was happening to him? Why didn’t anyone ever bother to tell him? He’s not a little kid, he could handle whatever they told him. Did he do something that scared everyone? Ever since he transferred to this class, his arm and eye suddenly changed. People gave him weird stares, and tried to avoid him. When his caretaker Akuma found out, he tried every single spell and magic seal he could, to reverse the process. None of it worked. Every now and then, he tried again, rinse and repeat every so often. Fast-forward to the 'incident' nobody wants to talk about, involving bookworm. Fast-forward again to that blonde witch's potion... Ever since that, no... Even before that, he swore he was--

    His thoughts were disrupted by the sound of the school bell signalling the end to another day.

“... And that wraps up our lessons for the day! Be sure to review your notes, and do your homework, everyone. I will be here for the next hour if you need help.” 

He just sat there, trying to think through his memories, to make sense of it. Most students dispersed, the sound of students’ papers rustling and bags being picked up off the floor slowly replaced the white noise in his head. Klug and Raffina probably left separately, Amitie rushed to Accord’s side for help with the homework, and Lidelle was off to do her observations on the moonsunflower this week. 

Sig remained in his seat, having wordless conversations with his little bug friends, instead. Asking them about their days, as he always did, mostly oblivious to the events of his own. He’d have been last to leave if Amitie and Lidelle weren’t there. He did things at his own pace typically, leaving whenever his bug friend did.

...Today was different, though. Something felt different. A gnawing feeling that used to feel trivial had grown over time. The deformations from his left arm had been spreading constantly, no amount of Akuma’s rites, treatments, or spells slowed it down. It’d been a year since that incident happened, and a few months later, something else... Two incidents, and no answers. All he had were questions that were shunned away with words like “It’s nothing for you to worry about,” or “We’ll take care of it, so don’t ask too many questions.” All he could do was believe them, because they had his best interest in mind, right...?

Akuma never provided actual answers when asked, only empty words of... What felt like false reassurance,“Don’t worry your young head about it”, while chanting mysterious incantations with paper, “We’ll heal you someday”, casting archaic-sounding spells, handing him multiple charms,

“Don’t think about what scares you, only think happy thoughts, kuma.”

Scary? Was something wrong with him in the first place? Something that felt like a part of him, ingrained in him since birth, treated as a curse and a disease once his hand and eye turned that shade of crimson? It got him in trouble so many times, in ways he had no control, something he was forced to be at the center of. Fate was drawing chaos towards him, like a violent vortex. Was he never supposed to think about ‘himself’ ever again? What could he even do about the world revolving so sporadically around him? 

The ladybug flew away, right out the window, to greener pastures.

--

    Eventually, Amitie left the classroom. She waved goodbye to Sig, seemingly getting the sense that he wasn’t in the mood to walk home together that day. She flashed him a worried smile, and then disappeared out the door. 

He wasn't feeling up to talking to his teacher in the first place, but... The nagging feeling wouldn't go away until he did. Sig stood up from the desk and walked over to Ms. Accord’s desk.

"Good afternoon, Sig. Do you need any help with what we learned today?"

"Something... else."

“Oh? What is it, is something troubling you?”

He... Didn't know how to ask, what to ask...? He was prepared to just be told nothing, anyways, but... They really wanted to know. They were feeling... Confusion, anger? Fear, sadness... Any mental script they had in mind was gone. He didn’t realize just how intense his fear of the unknown was.

"I.... Is there something wrong with me? Am I... going to become something bad... Do you know what's... Happening to me ...?"

They didn't realize how scared their expression was, like a deer in headlights.

"Sig...? Dear, are you alright? Did something happen?"

He was trying not to cry when he ended up thinking about everything he was told not to, gripping his arms tightly. Sometimes, it felt harder to breathe, or think... Was it just him, or something else? His vision grew blurry from held-back tears...

--

Sitting in a chair Ms. Accord pulled up, he didn't have it in him to look her in the eye. Everything was silent for some time...

"I'm... scared. You, Akuma, everyone... You all know things about me..."

He tried to make eye contact with her, if barely, only able to meet eyes with her puppet.

"Why don't you want me to know? Do I need to be fixed...? Is something bad going to happen with me...? To people around me? I've always... been like this... So I don't know. Everyone acts like it's forbidden stuff..." 

Digging his fingers into his arm, he was shaking...

"I don't want to live like this. Knowing nothing about myself... It's so scary. No one likes scary people. No one wants to be around someone who hurts people. It makes me feel like I'm going to ruin everything, someday..."

"... I told you, you all shouldn't keep secrets from him, nya. Lookit what it did to the poor kid...", Popoi whispered to her. What could she say? The cat was right...

"Sig... I'm sorry, I truly am. It was never my intention to cause you such anxiety... Please, try to look at me..."

"I... can't..." 

"Please know, then... You're not in any danger, and your friends aren't, either. No one's going to get hurt just because you're here... You said you've always been like this, right?"

Sig nodded, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

"You've always been a prized pupil and friend to many, Sig... That won't change just because of your arm or eye... Those make you who you are, and you're a wonderful person."

"... Thanks... teacher..."

Taking some deep breaths, he sighed... He still had more questions. Many more.

"... I want to know... Something else..."

"You have my word that I'll answer to the best of my abilities, from now on."

Having wiped his tears away, putting faith in her words, 

"... What made me like this? Does it have something to do with what happened a year ago...? I know... you know something... You were helping... him... Lemres."

Silence permeated through the room.

"Akuma informed me, when you enrolled, that your sudden changes were nothing to worry about. As far as my knowledge goes, there's nothing abnormal about your condition that would warrant any worry. As for the incident..."

"... Teacher?" 

"I promise I'm being honest, my knowledge of what happened... Is very little. I only know what it is that Lemres told me about those 3... objects."

"Which... is...?"

" Those... The items, they are connected to a certain item of ill omens... I do not know anything more. He kept such details to himself..."

... Did she think he forgot about the bookworm's book? He wasn't clueless, he knew there was something weird about it. Bookworm always makes the effort to tuck it away specifically when he approaches. He almost seemed to prioritize making sure he never even so much as touched it. He got annoyed when others did, and downright terrified when he did. He wasn't fooling anyone, Sig simply didn't pay the thought any mind until now.

Having almost-fully regained his composure, he stood up, 

"Teacher... If that really is all you know... I'm going to find out more, by myself.", making himself clear, he was finally able to project his voice a bit louder.

"... I'm  sorry, that truly is the extent of my knowledge, but... Sometime soon, I could invite him over, and he could tell you what he knows...?"

... It was reassuring to see she actually parted with details. All it took was... Crying. Stressful. He just wanted to get out. He especially wanted nothing to do with that candy weirdo.

"I...don’t want that. See you next week, teach."

With that, he left. 

Tomorrow, it would be time to visit the bookworm Klug, instead.

Ms. Accord, too, had her own plans for the weekend.

--

End Notes: surprise surprise i’m gonna be uploading fics up here from now on. this fic’s been in the works for awhile and it still is- but i’m really excited to show everyone it! if it’s possible, i’d like to affix art to every single chapter going forward. thank you for reading, and feel free to let me know what you think via. replies or asks. reblogs and likes are especially helpful for getting the word out! catch me on my main blog at @marxsoul, or my twitter at @marxsoui, and see you when the next chapter’s out~

[rataltouille]

HOUSE PLANTS, UPDATE 1

this has been long overdue. typical, really. [novel intro found here.]

the story is currently eight chapters in but it's also a very strange eight chapters. i’m not really happy with half of these words because they're unnecessary ™ and dull ™ and serve no purpose whatsoever ™. i’m simply choosing to ignore that i need to cut them out. :’] here’s a note i made that perfectly captures my feelings so far:

before we go into the excerpts, i want to talk a bit about how house plants is structured because the format is whack. each chapter ranges from 3000-4000 words. A few vignettes, around 500 words, are sprinkled between these chapters. the chapters narrate events from the fictive past, while the vignettes are snippets into the fictive present [the point from where lilith is retelling the story]. additionally, an important plot thread is told entirely in the form of an epistolary [through letters] and so there's a bit more of confusion to navigate through. fun times.

and now for the excerpts. they're from the first three chapters and are very weird out of context. i think that each update will feature excerpts from three consequent chapters, but that may change as we get closer to spoiler land.

excerpts:

chapter one

the novel kicks off with an odd vignette featuring an unhinged willow and an innocent lilith. chronologically, this is set way back, the earliest scene ever, around when lilith was ten or eleven. it’s meant to establish a sense of unease and to thread the unsettling undertone i’m going for. it's also major foreshadowing but we don't talk about that here. i’m not giving away much because there's not many excerpts to scrape out from a dialogue-heavy vignette like this.

”Here, let me help, mother.”

I tried guiding your palms to the rim of the pot, but you moved them away. From the brief touch, my fingers came away with moisture. On second glance, your knuckles were bathed in sweat. Your veins pulsed and your hands shivered. You gave me a wide-eyed glance, dumped the plant atop the brown, and stood up. You wiped the dirt away on your jeans. From below, with sunlight teetering over your golden hair, you were a personification of God. But were you, really? Does God fear their children? Does God volunteer to garden? I didn't know what God truly meant. I don't now either. But I’m certain it wasn't you.

”Sorry, Lilith. My pollen allergy is acting up.”

It's stunning how it ran in our blood, lying effortlessly.

chapter two

immediately after this we’re pulled off into the linear non-vignette chapter thing, aka the second chapter. [god what am i doing with this structure]. it starts with a soft little reminiscent bit about juniper?? i’m exploiting the tense a lot but it's been fun. (:

The first time she smiled at me is knit into me, like I’m not myself without it. I’m not. She breathed change and I ran with it. Whenever she gazed at me, with sunset dripping behind her head, or with rain clouds dotting her hairline, she’d smile. It was the sound of a ukulele in a winter draft, the kiss of dew on my favourite hemlock, the fond mythical curl of my father’s arms around me. There’s a phantom of love everywhere, and I almost caught it sneaking around her. Even now, Juniper dozes so soundly; she’s replaced everything I wanted you to be and everything you never were. You’d know, of course. You always have.

willow is officially introduced soon after, and so is one of the major plot threads, i.e. lilith’s correspondence with her dad. this excerpt is to show how the family feel about each other became, like i mentioned, there’s a lot of tea to be split here. not gonna lie, this paragraph reads as kinds pure.

You— the town called you Wistful Willow, but they did so behind your back and on postcards to neighbours— had a special lilt in your tone every time you spoke his name. ”Isac,” your lips would curl, almost a smile, and I’d smile back. You loved it, the sound of his name. It had become a ritual for us, pouring our sorrow and joy and unrest and comfort into those two syllables. A fallback plan, I suppose; there was always father to rely on amidst chaos.

willow is constantly at home and she’s probably not seen the outside world in a million years. she either cooks, reads, sits in a bathtub, or does everything at the same time. not odd at all.

The bathroom door, thick oak painted ivory, was right across where I stood. The house was large and empty, and I had three places— study, bedroom, garden— to myself. I lived only with you, so it was mostly quiet, except on Saturdays when we got father’s mail and watched TV together. That Saturday we had seen an old movie from the 70s, a random romance that neither of us cared for, but watched out of duty.

The door was shut. From it came the sound of pages rustling, not unlike a delicate breeze playing with the fronds of croton plants. I knocked softly.

”Come in, ” you said, a splash of water punctuating your voice.

I entered to find you half-immersed in the bathtub, one hand holding a novel, the other limp across the rim. There lingered the scent of soapy water, rose-tinted, and all over the tiled walls was the water’s reflection, a glow of opulence. You were half-naked, your garments drifting like algae. Your habit of reading in the bathtub had been increasing lately. You looked at me, questioning.

there’s also the introduction of lilith’s best friends marcy and faun, where they lay down in the middle of a field after a tiring cricket match and banter all through the evening. i’m really enjoying the trio’s friendship; it's both fun to write and they’re just so pure.

”If you insult Henry one more time, Marce...”

”He actually named the butterfly.” Her eyes were wide and amused; she dug up mud with her nails and flicked it upwards, glanced at me. ”Lilith. He named his fucking butterfly.”

”Faun, it's dead. You keep it in a box, ” I said.

”The dead don't magically lose their names, ” he countered.

Our laughter drafted into town. I don't think it heard.

chapter three

this is kind of uneventful but it sets up some major subplots. i might push it to later in the book, but i’m happy with where it it's right now. lilith randomly keeps reminiscing throughout so that’s convenient. this excerpt is about willow and thus is unreliable as hell. willow ain't good and lilith ain't 100% sincere narrating this right now, so don't let its pureness fool you.

People in town, I’d hear, found you odd and unsociable, cold and distant. I always scoffed when they told me so. They only knew the Willow who never attended community gatherings, who’d gaze out absentmindedly from the porch, who’d more so see than observe, hear than listen. They didn't know the Willow who was my mother, who hated loud noises, who loved her novels with a passion, who spoke so serenely— and rarely— that you hung onto her every word. Only I saw this side of you, and that suited me just fine.

there’s a scene where lilith [accidentally] spies on marcy and another guy. their conversation makes lilith tangent off in her head.

Marcy spoke detachedly, like she was speaking through a filter of not caring. I worried for her and her charade. It didn't help that scented letters confessing love often found their way to her locker, or that roses were shoved in her face as if her admirers loved her so much that they forgot she was allergic to them. Idolisation and adoration took extreme forms; she was stalked for a month and sent death threats. She would put on a disguise of indifference and seem unbothered, but at night she’d soak her pillow and lose sleep, then inform us the next day about her insomnia so casually that we almost forgot how easily she hurt.

i’m not going to lie, the last line in this excerpt was just me indulging myself with the knowledge of the climax. i need to stop slipping in random tone changes like this lol.

My walk home finished quick, though my feet expressed exhaustion. I was right on time, too; you were sitting by your coffee table, glasses crooked upon your nose, a new novel— this one a bright red sky, gold print, gauzy— resting beside warm coffee. You barely smiled, but that was because you were daydreaming. I was familiar with every tell: your eyes would tilt towards my forehead, your lips would stretch, your fingers would drum on whatever you were holding. I’d always let you be when you drowned into your head. Did you ever notice that, Mother? Have you ventured out of your mind to witness my efforts?

and finally some food for thought. yes, that pun was intended. i’ll see myself out.

”Dinner’s ready, dear,” you called. I groaned out my fatigue and left my room, hoping to abandon my unflattering thoughts. In the kitchen, I helped you set the table. Soon we were both sipping hot carrot soup with a side of breadsticks. You were already invested in the novel. I held the spoon, the heat barely registering, and watched you drift through fiction and reality like a will o’ the wisp. Maybe I could read for escapism, too. It would do me good.

that’s all for today! thanks for reading so far; support is, as always, appreciated. hope you liked these excerpts ✨

[drabbles-of-writing]

Your Turn

This is part of my Uncursed AU

AO3

Masterpost

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Lilith, as of recently, had been training Amity far more often. She wasn’t sure when it started happening, but it always made her feel better when she knew Amity was out of that forlorn mansion.

Which worked out wonderfully for her, since Amity loved training. She was always one to be on time, and rarely did she ever miss a lesson.

So, needless to say, Lilith was rather concerned when, one day, Amity was over ten minutes late.

,

They trained in many spots across Bonesborough, so to be prepared for any kind of terrain. Today, she decided to be a little easier and train in a clearing in the woods, opposite of the Owl House.

She would rather not run into Hooty, if she could avoid it.

Lilith tapped her foot impatiently, each minute feeling like an hour. The witch was about to pull out her scroll to call the young witch when a sound from the foliage caught her attention.

“I’m here! I’m here!” Amity called, rushing into the clearing and nearly tripping over herself.

“Amity! There you are.” Lilith said, hurrying over to the young witch. “Are you alright? Normally you would inform me if there’s to be a delay.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Amity apologized, ears pressed back. “I, uh...slept in…” She mumbled refusing to meet the coven leader's eyes.

“Slept in?” Lilith repeated. “It’s...late afternoon?”

Amity lightly kicked at the ground beneath her and held her hands behind her back, refusing to meet the witches eyes.

“Amity,” Lilith said, crouching down so as to be eye-level with the girl. “Did something happen?” She asked, concerned.

Call her a worrywart, but a million bad ideas ran through her head. Amity being late and sleeping in was very unlike her. Did something keep her up? Was there an issue at the mansion? Was it stress? Was she being too hard on her?

Amity sighed and her shoulders sagged.

“You remember the human, Luz?” Amity asked.

“Of course,” Lilith blinked, surprised at this. “Why?”

“So, I was in the library to, erm, grab something I left,” Amity stuttered, fiddling with her hands. “And it was the night of the Wailing Star, so I knew Ed and Em were going to be there. But turns out they also...brought Luz…” She trailed off.

Lilith tilted her head, slowly processing the words Amity had said.

“Oh, I see.” Lilith chuckled. “Let me guess, she pulled you into some far too chaotic adventure last night?”

“Yeah,” Amity sighed, looking relieved. “It was crazy! We had to fight the character Otabin, and Luz actually didn’t have that bad of an idea, and we almost got sewn into a book, and turns out Luz is, like, a huge nerd.” Amity rambled on.

Lilith only smiled and listened. She shouldn’t have been all that surprised. The residents of the Owl House had always been a troublesome bunch, it was to be expected Luz would be the same.

And Lilith knew from a lot of experience that once you’ve met the people of the Owl House, you're never completely free of them.

“I take it you're a bit too tired for training today, then?” Lilith inquired.

“Oh, no, no, I can train!” Amity insisted. “I’ll be totally fine.”

“Amity, I can see the bags under your eyes,” Lilith pointed out. “You’d do best to spend more time on your concealer.”

Amity poked at the makeup under her eyes and grumbled under her breath, embarrassed.

“Don’t worry, we can do something else today.” Lilith said, standing up again. “I heard that new merchants came to the marketplace today. We could go browse. If you’d like.” She added the last part quickly.

“Are you sure?” Amity asked, looking up at Lilith with such a shy hopeful look that she had to mentally reign herself back in.

“Yes, of course I am.” Lilith said with a smile. “So long you can keep yourself upright, that is.”

“Obviously, I’m a Blight.” Amity said, standing up straighter. “I can handle a few hours of walking.”

“If you insist.”

,

Lilith pulled up the hood of her cloak, obscuring her face from anyone passing by. Obviously, if they looked closer they could see who she really was, but it was better than walking out in the open.

“As much as I admire the attention,” Lilith said to Amity. “I doubt you want us to be swarmed today.”

“Definitely not,” Amity agreed, almost shyly. “Where did you say the merchants should be?”

“Somewhere near the middle of the marketplace,” Lilith said, unconsciously side-eyeing any stand they passed that was selling junk. “Come along.”

The two had a more of a vague wander towards the middle, as Amity, and sometimes Lilith, would get distracted by the odd objects being sold. Ranging from baked goods to knick-knacks that looked like they’d been scrounged up from someone's basement.

There were a few moments she had to stop herself from impulse-buying raven sculptures. What was she, Eda? The lady who bases her entire theme around one type of bird?

A sudden crash tore her out of her line of thought.

,

She and Amity looked towards the noise, and a part of Lilith wanted to be surprised at the sight...but she really wasn’t.

A worm the width of a human and triple the length had its head stuck underneath the rubble of a broken stand. It was thrashing about and knocking into other stands, causing what was, to the people of Bonesborough, no more than an annoyance.

King, of course, was clutching onto the worm's tail with his claws and mouth, trying to tug it back. Luz herself was pulling on the relentless demon.

“King! Te lo ruego, let go!” Luz demanded, digging her heels into the dirt.

King mumbled something back, but it was inaudible from the fact he was still biting the worm.

Lilith and Amity glanced at each other. Lilith’s face reflected that of someone who had seen this many times before, and was tired. Amity’s showing pure unease and confusion as to what to do.

Luz yanked on King, hard. The worm finally popped free of the rubble and spun around, revealing wide, circle jaws filled to the brim with spinning razor sharp teeth.

Yeah, that was more of a problem.

Luz yelped and scooped up King, stepping back as the worm lunged at them with a hiss.

Lilith had barely summoned her staff to help the two before Amity threw a handful of magenta fire at the beasts face.

The beast snarled and whirled towards them, opening its jaws wide.

“Amity?” Luz blinked, now noticing the two.

The worm shot at them, arching itself and whirring its teeth around.

Lilith raised her staff and the beast froze, enveloped in blue magic. Lilith drew a circle in the air and the monster shrunk back to the size this species was supposed to be at; barely bigger than a finger.

The worm fell to the ground, now as small as it once was. Upon realizing this, it dug back into the ground and vanished.

The surrounding shopkeepers breathed a sigh of relief and began fixing up their stands again.

“Are you two alright?” Lilith asked, walking over to the two.

“Yeah, we’re fine--” Luz’s relieved face turned to that of pleasant surprise when she looked up at the woman. “Oh! Hey, Lilith!”

“Lilith!” King exclaimed at the same time, happily bounding up onto a wooden poll that had been cut in half by the chaos.

“How in the world did you get a razorworm that big?” Amity wondered, hovering behind the coven leader.

“Oh man, long story.” Luz said, taking Lilith’s offered hand and brushing herself off. “See, first I was just helping Eda around the house, and then King wandered off to go dig, you know? And then--”

Lilith tuned Luz out as she rambled on her explanation to Amity, who was looking a little overwhelmed, but not like she needed immediate help.

“How’s you?” Lilith asked King.

“Great! Well, almost great. Then that razorworm got away.” King grumbled. “Oh, oh! I got Eda’s message! And I say hi back!” King said happily, tail wagging.

“That’s good to hear,” Lilith smiled, scratching the demon's chin. “It seems you’ve infected another one with whatever bad luck you’ve got.” She said, glancing over at Luz, who was still babbling on and gesturing wildly.

Amity looked less overwhelmed, and now was just politely confused, but still listening. Luz seemed calmer and happier at explaining now, whereas originally she had seemed nervous, like Amity was going to tell her to shut up.

Lilith didn’t realize she had been watching a bit too long until she felt King grab her hand and hug it, getting her attention.

“Do you still make those green cookie things?” King asked. “Those were the best!”

“Mm, not as much anymore.” Lilith shook her head. “But I can send a few to the Owl House if you miss them.”

“Yes!” King pumped a fist in the air. “Luz is gonna love those!”

“I have a feeling that if Eda is hesitant to eat something, Luz won’t be much better.” Lilith said, sounding uncertain. “Where is Eda, anyway?”

“Back at her shop,” King said casually. “She made Luz help me with the worm while she cleaned up the mess we made of her stand.”

“Of course,” Lilith chuckled.

“And then the worm broke some stand selling pottery, and then you showed up!” Luz finished at last.

“...you’re not used to having normal days here, are you?” Amity said after a moment, the corners of her mouth slightly raised.

“Nope!” Luz shook her head, still giddy off of excitement and adrenaline. “I’m still all wound up from last night, so Eda said I should spend all my energy now so I can crash later.”

“You haven’t slept?” Amity gasped.

“I think I had a thirty-minute nap when I got home?” Luz squinted her eyes in thought. “But other than that? Not really.”

“You really are Eda’s apprentice,” Lilith sighed with a shake of her head, causing both girls to look towards her. “Let’s get you back to her, then.” She said, her staff vanishing in a small flash of blue.

“Best not to cause more trouble than you already have.”

“That’s fair,” King shrugged, hopping off the pole and onto the ground.

“Oh, no, we don’t want to cause--er, inconvenience you further.” Luz quickly corrected. “Aren’t you here to buy something?”

“Just browse,” Amity shrugged, crossing her arms. “We decided not to train today, so it’s no big deal.” She said politely.

“You’re still training?” Luz blinked.

“Always are,” Lilith said. “Though you’re recent... adventure, lets say, put a bit of a halt on today's lesson.”

“Oh,” Luz winced. “Sorry, Amity.”

“It's...fine,” Amity said after a moment. “Let’s just find wherever that witch’s stand is.”

“Agreed,” Lilith nodded, gesturing down the marketplace road and looking down at King. “Demons first.”

“Ha, ha, very funny.”

,

“There you two are!” Eda exclaimed, looking up from her stand. “How’d the worm go?”

“Almost got eaten by it,” Luz said casually. “Oh, but we met Lilith and Amity!” She added, gesturing to the two behind her.

“...wonderful,” Eda grumbled, pushing aside whatever gadgets she had gathered. “Whadda want?”

“We just wanted to make sure Luz made it back safely.” Lilith said calmly, occasionally glancing over at Amity, who was being shown human relics by a gleeful Luz. “I don’t even want to know how you made a worm that large.”

“Long story, Luz could probably recite it to you.” Eda waved her hand. “Sure you don’t want to buy anything?” She inquired, pulling her best con-artist look.

“Positive.” Lilith said firmly. “I take it you already heard the disaster Luz got my protégé into last night?” She said. “Do you often let your human do that?”

“Luz is her own person and can make her own near-death experiences,” Eda huffed, crossing her arms, though she seemed far from offended. “And yes, I did hear about it. Luz talked about it non-stop when I woke up.” She muttered.

“It was sweet, but she kept going on and on about ‘befriending ones rivals’ or something like that.”

“She wishes to befriend Amity?” Lilith blinked, turning her head to where the girls were now.

Luz was showing off a strange colorful cube to Amity while King, much to both of their dismay, kept trying to eat it.

“My kid likes yours, for some reason.” Eda shrugged. “Hope that won’t get in the way of your perfect image.” She taunted.

“Amity can make her own image, thank you very much.” Lilith huffed. “And if that image means becoming friends with a human…” She glanced at the girls again.

Amity smiled and tried to smother a laugh as Luz got her fingers stuck in a strange paper contraption.

“Then so be it.” Lilith said simply.

“Couldn’t agree more, Sis.” Eda grinned. “And if I’m lucky, she might start feeling generous if she befriends Luz.” She added thoughtfully.

“You are not going to scam a child, Edalyn.” Lilith said strictly.

“Of course not! I have standards, Lilith.” Eda snorted. “I’m just saying that if it ever comes up, or she has an offer, it’d be rude of me to say no.” She said simply. “Kids rich, you expect me to ignore that?”

“I shouldn’t have expected more from you.” Lilith sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“You really shouldn’t have.”

“Uh, Eda?”

The two sisters turned, seeing that Luz, Amity and King had been cornered by some strange gray almost dog-like creature with a ringed tail. Luz had a stick in front of her to poke at the creature before it hissed and recoiled.

King was standing behind Luz, as was Amity. Although Amity looked ready to chuck a ball of fire at the animal.

“A raccoon snuck in with your stash!” Luz called, poking at the beast again before it suddenly bit down on the stick and began thrashing about.

Luz screamed and dropped the stick, jumping back. She tripped over King and fell over, crushing him beneath her as she scuttled back. At the same time, Amity threw a handful of magenta fire at the animal. It missed and instead set fire to the torn-up carpet it was perched on.

The sisters glanced at each other with a tired look as the three began yelling and shouting at each other, trying to herd the gray demon-thing as it ran about.

“Don’t look at me. I just dealt with the worm.” Lilith said, crossing her arms. “It’s your turn now.”

“Ugh, fine.” Eda sighed, summoning her staff and stepping out from around the table. “Nice to know you’re still the same, even with disasters.”

“Likewise,”

[thekillerssluts]

Will Butler: “I am very American and that is my thing I have to deal with“

In times like these, where some of us are reflecting on what the future will bring and what role we can play to make it more bearable, Will Butler uses his new solo record “Generations” to ask profound questions in a very intense and compelling way.

As a member of the renowned Indie Rock Band Arcade Fire his fans quite often perceive the multitalented musician as an entertainer who likes goofing around with his bandmates and who gets carried away on all kinds of escapades on his instruments. Nevertheless, there is a very serious person behind that facade who is deeply involved in community work with a strong political opinion. Not only a Master’s Degree from Harvard in public policy can prove that, but also his engagement in countless events with political focus.

It was a special honor to chat with Will Butler about his new solo record “Generations”. An album which sounds quite joyous at first glance but has a lot to offer when you listen closely. We talked about how the Covid crisis affected his work and life, how he deals with the political situation in the US and how it is for him as a live enthusiast to not be able to perform his new record on stage:

Great to have you back with us! Last time you talked to my colleague Gabi about your first solo album “Policy”. That was quite a while ago.  

Oh yes, many years ago. Five years and a lot changed since then.

How is life treating you, how is the whole Covid crisis treating you?

It’s been weird six month. This summer I am in New York. The summer felt pretty good, it seems we are through the worst and people were out and about and going back to living their lives. Now fall comes and we will see what happens.

How does it feel to release an album in those times? We interviewed artists with quite opposite opinions. Some say people can´t focus on music at the moment as they are distracted with more important things while others say it’s especially important now to have the distraction of music. Which side are you on?

What I have been seeing is that people are very grateful for music that has come out, both a as a distraction but also as a spiritual nourishment, like some sort of comfort. Music sometimes works like food, where it comforts you and make you ready for the fight ahead. That side to me is quite beautiful.

Honestly, I was very thankful that you released that album. For me music is exactly what you just described, it gives me comfort and positiveness. It often helps to escape reality, although I have to say that your album “Generations” pushes you right into reality.

(laughing) Oops.

I have the feeling it´s not an album for pure distraction, it´s music you have to dive deep into and confront.

Yes, it definitely has an urgency to it. It is contiguous with the last four or five years which have been very intense, especially in the US but all around the world. So, it´s definitely coming from the same soil as this mad year.

I think you already started working on the album before the whole lockdown happened?

I finished recording the album on March 9, I thought that was the perfect time, so it was marked in my calendar. It happened that just a few days later New York shut down and went into complete lockdown. Mixing then took probably the next six weeks; half the record was mixed in Montreal. And suddenly we had to deal with a lot of things like schools closing, people had to figure out helping their parents and how to get help for other people. It was suddenly chaos and a terrifying time. That itself was complicated even though only the mixing was left to do.

Interestingly enough the record sounds as if it was written with all the things happening already in your head. It fits so much with the times.

Yes, I kept checking in with the record and I thought yes, it’s still the same world. So much  has come out of the police crisis, the refugee crisis happening at the same time, which is still ongoing. These where part of the impetus for the world we are in right now. The pandemic is particularly strange and not what I was imagining. It just adds to the weirdness that was already there.

I saw you live several times with your band Arcade Fire and also solo. You seem to be such a live person. The new songs sound to me like they’re made for being performed live. How do you feel about not being able to play them now?

I am really sad to not be touring this fall. I planned on touring the US before the election in September and October. I wanted to do political town halls where I can have local politicians and invite activists to talk about shit. Now I´m very sad to not be able to do that. It´s such a crazy time and I want to be useful, useful in a sense of being able to talk to people in different cities about important stuff. It´s hard to not have that toolbox. Also, the songs were very much written live. I booked shows before we went into the studio and we were trying to figure out how to play the songs live.

That sounds tough, so it´s even more devastating not being able to do it. What do you do now to raise your voice?

It´s hard. I´m not that good at the internet. I do some stuff online but this is not my natural medium. So what I’m doing is I´m talking to friends, my wife and I are also very active in our community. I think it´s very important to have that intimate connection to friends and family and talk to them.

Listening to your lyrics you seem to have a lot of questions but no answers. I think none of us do, but it makes exchange of thoughts even more important to make sure the head is not exploding.

Yes exactly. For me music is a force that is moving forward, by its nature it is a creative act. To me there is hope in the music and hope in the drums that are a bit of a propulsion. But there is not a lot of hope or knowledge in the head. I think that is a bit true for all of us these days. Our heads are completely toasted. Nevertheless, there is still hope in our friendships, there is still hope in our neighborhoods, there is still hope in our families.

It´s great that you talk about hope. That would have been actually my last question, what gives you hope? I think we all need something positive to not go totally mental.

Yes, very much though and you have to be grateful to see a lot of people around you being safe and remind yourself that you are not alone. Follow the ones who have a good common sense and surround yourself with the good ones out there.

What I learned is also being thankful for the little things and everything we took for granted for a long time. I, for example, took concerts for granted. I could never imagine that there is a world without live music. When I see videos from gigs it feels like another life.

You are so right. I could also never envision that this is going to happen and now I´m like what? It´s genuinely deeply confusing. It is going to echo in our lives for a very long time how strange this year was.

Talking about how important friends and family are – you have recorded “Generations” with the same solo band as “Policy”. Do you need that intimacy of knowing the people well you work with?

Yes, my actual touring band consisted of my wife’s sister Julie, my wife contributed a lot to the record – she is a great musician, and Sara Dobbs who is a friend and was our neighbor in New York. My drummer Miles is also part of it. There is a lot there, we’ve been playing together for five years now. There is a lot of instinct and call and response, that’s hard to manufacture. That´s how it works; you always work with the people you are familiar with.

You come from a very musical family with your grandfather Alvino Rey being a musician, your mom playing the harp, you and your brother in the same band. Is the title “Generations” referring to that legacy?

Yes, very much so. My mom’s grandfather was the last son of a Mormon pioneer from across the American west. He decided to be a musician and he encouraged his children to be musicians. My grandmother, who grew up in a family band, married the grand Alvino, they had kids who were all musicians, so there is a beautiful heritage that stretches back and such a deep privilege to have. But there are also very horrifying things you inherit, every country and every people inherit their different stretch of horrors, as part of why they are where they are. In America it is particularly situated around race and gender. I think we are starting to unpack those burdens as a country but this will take a couple of generations.

Tackling those inherited problems will be even harder if Trump will be elected again.

(sighs) That’s going to be really dark. I can´t predict anything anymore, my capacity for prediction is just gone but if it happens it will be really bad.

So now we are back at all the questions you have in your songs about the past, the future and where we are.

You are exactly right!

You have lived in Canada for quite some time. Do you sometimes wish you have stayed there?

No, never to be honest. I love Montreal, it´s one of the greatest cities in the world and I have friends and family there. I am very American and that is my thing I have to deal with – these are my problems, I´m a citizen here – let´s try to fix it to the extent we can.

Do you see the future differently since you became a father? You have always been a very political person but did something change since you have a family?

Having kids didn´t really change my vision of the past or future in a particular way. It´s not like now I make sure my kids have a better world but I feel like I have learned a lot about humanity, about nature and nurture and where humans come from and particular reasons why they are cruel and why they are kind and something about fundamental things like human love. I learned a lot about all those things in the past years. I feel a great responsibility – not so much to make a better world for them but to make sure that they´ve got their shit together as much as I can.

Unfortunately, we are running out of time. I could go on with you forever. I wish you all the best for the record. I really appreciate that you put some good music out, although it is something you have to get your head around and digest while swaying to the joyful tunes.

Thank you. This is something very meaningful. Thank you for letting me know.

I have to be honest I also need a deeper thought about your video for “Bethlehem” which you just have released.

I´m thinking in metaphors my whole life, so I was like let´s just cook our way through this one. Let´s just cook some of our anger and fear into a big meal.

To me at first glance it looked like a big feast inspired by Klu Klux Klan in a way. Watching it once I was not quite sure what feelings to have about the scenery; if it’s something positive or negative.

Oh wow, I was not intending that but that is not the worst vision of it. It was part of the goal to create something beautiful but also horrifying. It´s a horror film kind of comedy. It should be contradictory, so you are absolutely right with your feelings.  

So again, good luck for the record and let´s hope that we can get all back together again at a concert and celebrate and sing and shout together and enjoy the moment.

Thank you. Thank you so much. And yes let´s hope so (sighs). Fingers crossed on that one.

https://fastforward-magazine.de/will-butler-i-am-very-american-and-that-is-my-thing-i-have-to-deal-with/

[my-major-is-k-howard]

Lover

Inspired by “Lover” by Taylor Swift. We’re almost at the end of the story! One more chapter left! I am so grateful to everyone who has been reading these chapters. You all are the best and I love you! Enjoy this chapter! ❤️

Word Count: 2520

Trigger Warning: sexual innuendos

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3 Ch. 4 Ch. 5

————————————————————

Ch. 6 - I’ll Save You a Seat

Anne wiped the tears from her cheeks as a small smile graced her face. Her wedding day had been the most magical day of her life and she still couldn’t believe that Cathy was her wife, even though they had just celebrated their first anniversary a few months ago. 

Anne continued down the line of photos, stopping a couple pictures before the end to admire another one of her favorites. A little more than two months after the wedding, the newlywed couple was spending their honeymoon in the Bahamas. After many conversations and persistent nagging, Anne finally convinced Cathy to travel to the Caribbean islands to spend a week in the beautiful paradise. They booked their flights, bought a practically endless supply of bathing suits, and chose a hotel room with the best view to stay in.  

The day before the two headed back home, they asked a kind stranger to take a photo of them by the beach. Anne walked the man through the basics of how to take the picture before joining Cathy by the water. Surprisingly, their photographer seemed to have a natural gift and took a gorgeous Polaroid of the newlyweds. 

The landscape behind them was picture perfect, with sunset colors painting the sky, clear blue waters extending as far as the eye could see, and beautiful sand beaches streaked with the footprints of visitors. Cathy and Anne were in their swimsuits and wrapped up in each other’s arms, sharing a kiss that brought even more beauty to their surroundings. The breeze billowed through the girls’ hair, causing it to lift slightly off of their shoulders. 

This picture was easily both of their favorites from their honeymoon since it brought back good memories of the beautiful Caribbean beaches and the special moments they had shared during their time on the islands. 

~~~~~

Anne slowly opened her eyes, blinking them as they adjusted to the afternoon sun that reflected peacefully on the crystal clear waters. As much as she loved splashing around in the water and causing too much chaos for her own good, sunbathing with her wife was quickly becoming her favorite pastime. She was incredibly sad that this was the last day of their honeymoon but she wouldn’t have wanted to spend it any other way.

Anne leaned up on her elbows and looked around. The white sand seemed to glow in the warm light of the sun as the peaceful blue waters lapped lazily against the shore. Anne took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the sea. The cool breeze rushed through her hair as she softly exhaled, feeling a blissful ecstasy bubble up in her chest. 

She straightened up the beach towel under her before laying back down. She then turned to lay on her side, facing Cathy who was on her stomach with her head resting on her arms. Her mess of curls was tied up and still a little damp from swimming with Anne in the crystal waters. Her golden skin looked flawless as the sunlight bathed her shoulders, down the expanse of her back and legs, every inch screaming of a beauty that Anne thought was impossible to attain. The navy blue bikini looked stunning as well, which was no surprise to Anne since she had been the one to pick it out for Cathy to buy. 

Anne stared adoringly at Cathy, taking in every detail and committing it to memory. She never wanted to forget the sight before her, intimate and natural, the closest Anne had ever come to seeing true perfection. 

“Hey Cathy,” Anne spoke up to get her wife’s attention as a new thought struck her mind. She couldn’t restrain her need to share it immediately. 

The woman beside her shifted momentarily before turning her head to peer quizzically back at Anne. She hummed tiredly in response. 

“Do you wanna hear a dirty joke?” Anne flashed Cathy a mischievous grin as her eyes glinted with unbridled humor.

Cathy closed her eyes for a brief moment as she braced herself for whatever horrible joke was about to spill out of her wife’s mouth. “Sure.”

Anne’s grin turned into a huge smile at Cathy’s answer before she began. “I think I must be a car…” Cathy’s expression became confused at the random comment but nonetheless braced herself for the dreadful punchline that was yet to come.

“… because you turn me on.” Anne smirked as a deep red blush spread across Cathy’s cheeks and she let out an embarrassed chuckle. 

“That was terrible,” Cathy responded after she composed herself.

“I never said it was good,” Anne quipped back.   

“Why did I marry you again?” Cathy groaned as she turned to mirror Anne’s position.

“Because I’m hilarious, amazing, charming, attractive, wonderful…” Anne glanced at Cathy who was rolling her eyes and shaking her head in faux disapproval, “… and you love me.”

Cathy’s eyes softened at Anne’s last comment. “I do love you.” Cathy leaned forward and kissed Anne before parting with a smile. “Even if you tell horrible jokes.”

Anne huffed in response and shook her head. She watched as Cathy sat up and shuffled in her bag, before pulling out their Polaroid camera. The sun was steadily descending in the sky, casting orange highlights across the sky. 

“Kat wouldn’t want us to waste this moment and not take a picture, would she?” Anne mused to her wife as she sat up.

Cathy smiled and shook her head. “No, she wouldn’t.”

“We’ll need someone to take the picture though,” Anne mentioned as she grabbed the camera from Cathy and looked around the beach for anyone that might be willing to help. She saw a few couples and families littered across the beach before spotting a young man not too far away. He looked like he was packing up his things and preparing to leave. 

Anne stood up rather suddenly and quickly helped Cathy to her feet. She practically dragged her wife to where the man was picking up his beach towel. Cathy gave Anne an anxious look, clearly not too keen on asking a complete stranger for help. Anne, however, didn’t mind at all.

The man looked up to the two women approaching him and gave them a confused smile. Anne returned the smile before she spoke up. “Hi! I’m Anne and this is my wife, Cathy. We wanted to get a quick photo by the water. Would you take it for us?”

The stranger gave them a warm smile before nodding. “Of course!” He joined the couple as they walked closer to the water before stopping at their chosen spot. Anne quickly ran him through how to take the picture and then handed the Polaroid to him. She went to stand by Cathy before pulling her wife into her arms. She glanced at their photographer who gave them a thumbs up.

Cathy wrapped her arms around Anne’s neck and brought their lips together. Anne quickly melted into the kiss as she felt the cool breeze run through her hair. They parted a few seconds later and turned to the man who was holding the picture he’d taken of them. 

The two walked to meet him and he gave them back the camera and the picture. “I hope it turns out alright. You two make a cute couple.” 

“Thank you,” Cathy responded shyly as she took Anne’s hand.

“I’m sure it will turn out great. We’ll keep it out of sunlight so it develops properly. Thanks again,” Anne added before giving the stranger one last smile. He nodded politely before heading back to his things. 

“He seemed nice,” Cathy noted as the two headed back to their own spot. Anne chuckled a little which earned her a confused glance from Cathy. “What?”

“Wanna know why I chose him out of all the people at the beach to take our picture?” Anne asked, looking to the side at her wife.

“Why?” Cathy asked in response.

“Because his tote bag said ‘pride’ on it,” Anne answered as they reached their towels.

Cathy bumped her shoulder against Anne’s. “So that’s why you introduced me as your wife.”

“Yep. He couldn’t say no after that. It’s mandatory in the LGBTQ+ code to help each other out when possible. Under Article 6 Section 3.” 

Cathy laughed at her wife’s response before she began packing up to leave. “I’m afraid I haven’t read it.”

Anne let out a shocked cry. “Catherine Boleyn-Parr! You haven’t read the code? I’m appalled! I’ll have you lend you my copy when we get back home.” 

They quickly finished packing up before heading back to their hotel room. After a quick shower, Anne found herself in a sleek black jumpsuit sitting on the edge of the hotel bed. She was admiring the Polaroid from the beach that had finally developed. 

The sky was breathtaking, streaked with tints of orange and pink, and the water was a light shade of blue, almost completely clear. Cathy and Anne were in the center of the scenic view, wrapped up in each other and sharing a loving kiss. Anne was thoroughly impressed with their photographer’s skills, not expecting him to capture the moment in such a fantastic way.  

Anne was snapped out of her thoughts when she heard the sound of the shower in the bathroom stop. Anne stood up and returned the Polaroid to its place on the desk as the bathroom door swung open.

Anne glanced over and saw Cathy walk out in one of the hotel’s fluffy bathrobes, making Anne swoon at the sight. Anne met Cathy’s eyes and noticed she was subtly biting her lip. Anne smirked and watched as Cathy approached her.

“You look stunning,” Cathy whispered as she traced Anne’s exposed collarbone.

“I could say the same to you,” Anne whispered back, letting her voice take on a seductive tone. She reached down to undo the belt of the robe before Cathy’s hands stopped her.

“At this rate we’ll never make it to dinner,” Cathy scolded.

“We can just call room service again,” Anne responded, once again attempting to undo Cathy’s robe and once again being stopped by Cathy. Anne pouted in response.

“This is the last night of our honeymoon. I would like to make it down to the fancy restaurant before the sun sets.” Cathy looked up at Anne with pleading eyes. 

Anne dropped her pout and sighed. “Okay. I’ll go down and get us a table before it gets too crowded.”

Cathy smiled brightly at Anne before pecking her lips softly. “Thanks, love!”

Anne smiled back at her before grabbing her phone and a hotel key card and heading to the door. She quickly exited the room and headed down to the hotel restaurant. Anne was greeted by a hostess who asked for her room number before leading the guest to a table with a nice view of the beach. 

She looked out and admired the beautiful sight, watching as the sun slowly sunk deeper in the sky and painted everything in an orange hue. The sky was a mix of orange and red with an occasional dark cloud, and the waves crashed gently against the peaceful shore. The palm trees swayed in the soft breeze, almost as if they were dancing to a melodic song unheard by the human ear.

Anne was so caught up in the view before her that she didn’t notice Cathy approach the table. “Is this seat taken?” she jokingly asked, causing Anne to jolt in her seat. She looked over to the gorgeous woman before her, clad in a long red dress with a deep V neckline. Anne’s jaw dropped before she managed to spit out a response.

“Only by my beautiful wife.” Anne smiled softly as Cathy took her seat, not failing to notice the blush that creeped onto Cathy’s cheeks at the remark.

“I like it when you call me your wife,” Cathy commented shyly. Anne reached across the table to grab Cathy’s hand and ran her fingers over the smooth surface of the gold ring she was wearing. 

“I would have never guessed,” Anne joked before flashing Cathy a bright smile. Cathy shook her head softly but kept a fond smile on her face.

A waiter came by and dropped off menus, causing the couple to part so that they could peruse the dishes available. Anne flipped through the pages, pondering what she should get. Her eyes landed on an item and she let out an excited gasp.

“Babe, they have chicken nuggets!” Anne commented excitedly and pointed to the dish on the menu.

Cathy flipped to the same page before commenting. “That’s the kid’s menu, Annie.”

Anne pouted in response. “Can I still get them?”

“Will ‘five deliciously juicy chicken nuggets served with a side of fries’ be enough to quench your appetite?”

“If we get dessert, then yes.”

Cathy chuckled at her wife’s antics, knowing she wouldn’t be able to dissuade her from the childish platter. She called over the waiter and placed their order, a pasta bolognese for herself and chicken nuggets for Anne.

The couple made small talk as they waited for their food to arrive, relishing in the company of the other. They exchanged quick stories and jokes before Anne noticed that Cathy’s mind seemed to be wandering as she watched the sun set.

“Cathy, what’s wrong?” Anne asked tentatively.

Cathy looked back to meet Anne’s worried eyes. She gave her a sad smile before responding. “Is it wrong that I don’t want to go back home?”

Anne tilted her head in confusion. “Why don’t you want to go back home?”

Cathy sighed. “I mean, I do want to go back and see our friends and everything. I just… I’m so happy here and I don’t want that to get lost in the monotony of our daily life back home.”

“It sounds like you need to take more vacations.”

“Anne, I’m being serious.”

“I’m being serious too!” Anne explained. “You work so hard and that’s one of the things I love about you but everyone needs a break sometimes. I know you love writing but you also love traveling and sightseeing. If you ever feel overwhelmed when we’re back home, we can take a break and do those other things you love to do. I want you to be this happy all the time, Cathy, and I’ll do my best to make that happen.” Anne finished her speech with a shy smile.

“I think I’d like that,” Cathy said as she returned Anne’s smile. “Thank you, Anne. You always know what to say to make me feel better.”

“I’m here for you, Cathy,” Anne said before pointing to her wedding ring. “Forever!”

Cathy laughed and reached out for Anne to take her hand across the table. She gazed lovingly at Anne for a moment before responding. “Forever.”

The waiter returned to the table with their orders and again with desserts after they had finished. All the while, Cathy and Anne kept their hands clasped together, savoring the simple intimacy of the action as they enjoyed the last evening of their honeymoon. 

[fairygal11]

Monkie Kid Rper Wanted: Here is My OC Intro and Ideas

Monkie Kid Episode: Fox Magic It was another day in The City, a modern technological city. The citizens were going about their usual business, cars passing down their respected streets, teenagers playing at the Anti-Gravity Arcade, children playing in the park. Holographic advertisements that displayed on different rooftops around the city, not to mention the different culinary shops that were scattered around different parts of the metropolis. In the very center of the city, a young lady stared in awe at the wondrous kingdom she found herself in. Her pink eyes sparkled with bewilderment as her jaw almost dropped to the ground. She wore a chique blue cheongsam top with white cherry blossoms scattered around that matched with her blue jeans, but her shoes were pink to match with her hair. The only thing unusual about her ensemble was the blue hat on her head with a pair of “ears” on them and a white tail that swayed behind her, but she tried to keep it still from her excitement. Jia: So this is the City......It’s way bigger then I’ve ever imagined it to be....So many people, so many buildings....:She walked down the street, hoisting up her bag a bit which appeared to be a tad heavy for her like she was going on a camping trip.: A city this big must also have a wide selection of book shops scattered about....gasppp~Or maybe a library-A city like this must have more then one library. As she stopped at a nearby traffic light, waiting for the light to change so to cross, she paused to stare down at a strange-looking bracelet that was on her left arm. It was a beaded Jade bracelet, yet each one was inscribed with ancient writing on each little bead. Her excited smile shrunk to a small one upon staring at the accessory, placing her hand over it as if it was a terrible scar she did not want anyone to see. When she heard the ding of the traffic light change to “Walk”, she started walking slowly to get to the other side while deep in her thoughts.

My OC Is Jia Li she is a teenager around MK and Mei's age.  She is a fox spirit. She can turn into a human, but she can't hide her ears or tail (Though she has 9 nails, but one is only shown. 9 tails when in her true fox form.) so she wears a hat to cover her ears and her tail is the only thing that sticks out-although if discovered on tail and ears she will lie that it is cosplay. She's a teen and is quite powerful, but she keeps her powers to herself for she doesn't want to be the center of attention or cause any harm or mischief to those around her. She wants to carve her own path than the ones her family has forged with their history of tricks and wickedness. She is afraid that people will not like her or resent her for being a fox spirit, all she wants is to be treated normally and like any other person. Most of all she wants to find a place of belonging while learning to hone her skills and learning to control her "other self"-She wears a Sealing Bracelet to keep her other self under check-mostly because for a fox spirit like her she rejects her mischief side and doesn't want to do bad stuff. If the bracelet is ever removed or she realizes it is gone, it will alert her other self and her other self takes over in the name of Rei. When this happens her pink/white tail and ears turns red/black to indicate Rei's arrival and her eyes change from pink to red.

she is friends with MK and Mei along with the crew. :3 Course the first episode in the game introduces her coming to THE CITY to start a new life-she comically runs into MK when he is on a noodle delivery run and neearly crashes her but turns and crashes into some trash cans. :3

ANyway Jia apologizes for the incident, but MK would say its cool and he notices he hasn't seen her around the city before and Jia says she's new and so MK decides to show her around while finishing his deliveries :3 He takes her back to the noodle shop and introduces her to his friends. :3

The first episode is MK and Mei showing Jia the fun stuff of the city and then deciding to throw her a welcome party on Sandy's Boat :3

Although during a game of volleyball-MK is hit in the face by the ball and falls overboard, Jia jumps in, but accidentally turns into her full Fox Form to get him out-When she realizes the odd looks she sees her reflection in something and shapeshifts into a falcon and flies off, but not before MK notices a bracelet she left behind when she dashed off.

Fearing that her friends will resent her for being a fox spirit, she takes refugee in a nearby abandoned theater, only to run into Yin and Jin and upon explaining her troubles to them, and being the tricksters that they are, convince Jia that MK and his pals knew she was a Fox spirit and wanted to lower her guard so to destroy her. They tell her that spirits and demons should stick to being friends with their kind. :3

Of course Jia believes this, but the brothers extend their friendship to her to be their friend and show her how REAL FRIENDS have fun-which turns out to be tricks and pranks which Jia resents deeply, but begins to find it fun to her surprise yet later discovers she lost her bracelet that keeps Rei in check and upon realizing it she transforms into her dark half-Rei. (The clothes also transform too to fit the color scheme) Rei thanks the boys for making Jia realize her bracelet was gone upon having fun with "harmless pranks" and wants to repay them by showing them how a REAL TRICKSTER does it. This causes Rei to use her Fox Magic around town and causing some chaos which alerts MK and his pals.

Upon learning "Jia" is responsible, Mk would try to get her to calm down and come back to them, but discovers it isn't Jia at all as Rei tells him that Jia was her goody goody half and the bracelet kept her from taking control of the sweetie pie. Then she says that he and his friends lied to her about being friends and want to destroy or seal her away because she is a fox spirit. And of course MK would be like, "What? Jia-Rei....Uh....Fox Girl, why would you think we'd want to harm our new friend just because she's different"?

And this will confuse Rei/Jia when she listens to MK's speech about how its okay to be different and just because she is a fox spirit doesn't mean that they hate her, they find it pretty cool and even compliments on her ears and tail. Thsi will allow Jia to gain some control over Rei upon a blush and when telling him what the Demon Bros told her, he tells her that they lied to her and friends never lie to one another.

Realizing MK and even when Mei chims in about how they like her for her, MK holds out the bracelet he found that she left behind. Touched by his act of kindness, she places the bracelet back on and reverts back to normal and reconciles with her friends and uses soem of her fox magic to fix the damage and scare the Gold and Silver demons :3

Of course this would cause the two brothers to be smitten with Jia in the next episode after the events of the first. Course this causes some sibling/love rivalry between the brothers as to wanting to win Jia's affection and comical antics take place. :3

That's what I got for a good intro episode for her :3 Plus I figure if Jin and Yin's hideout is an abandoned theater-they are tricksters and probably performers.

Also imagine how they'd scare Jia when she takes refugee in there :3 I imagine she gets scared and loses composure of her human form and reverts to her fox form.

I mean some stuff is WIP but I kinda picture it like that-ya know introvert fox spirit first time in big city, meets new pals, accidentally reveals her true form when rescuing a friend, falls into bad crowd when running off, causes some havoc, friends talk her out and reconcile is involved :3

And yeah-Jin and Yin are tricksters as we know, but also performers and they do have creative ideas and their hideout is a rundown theater :3

Plus you saw the size of that scheme book-that is like 500 years worth or more in it.

Course they should work on their steps a bit more on schemes

This is just a sample of an incredible story that is yet to be written, yet to be told and a mysterious introvert bookworm with a secret to be revealed. This little intro to a episode in progress introduces a Fox spirit named Jia Li. Uh huh....that's right  THIS IS JUST A sample of my work. Of course it is a challenge to write what I got in mind. That is why I am looking for a writer who would love to collab with me on bringing Jia and my ideas and also their ideas to life in a fun game For this girl is looking for fun, creativity, flexibility and the writing prowess to make this into something more. So who among you writers finds my intro to Jia intriguing and wants to collab? Also if you wanna hear more....well BUCKLE UP. I got a good sum on this little number Soooo~Now that I dished out some hot, steamy potstickers of deliciousness and awesomeness. What do you think? :3 Anyone wanna collab and role play? Message me here or contact me on deviantart under Fairygal11 or on discord under Truffula Ghost (#9884). 

[chilly-me-softly]

Old Scars Future Heart • Chapter 10

Can’t believe we’re at the end of it! @alexajanecollins let me tell this, collab with you was a really pleasure and I’m ready to do it again. Hope you guys will like this last one and thank you for your support during this 💙

Chapter 1     Chapter 4     Chapter 7 Chapter 2     Chapter 5     Chapter 8 Chapter 3     Chapter 6     Chapter 9

Tag: @no-fate-but-what-we-make @vxrgilvandijk @mwdders @saintfootball

Ben had stayed at James a few hours longer than expected, they had played video games in all that time no longer touching the topic 'best friend dating sister'. When he was about to leave, he just looked at him whispering, "Talk to her, okay?" before he closed the door behind him.

Yet when he got back to her place, there was no sign of Liv. No messages on his phone, after checking it, no calls. 

He tries to call her but she doesn't answer, and something starts to build up inside him. What if she realized she made a mistake with him and stayed with Jack? No, that's not possible. She's not like that. She would have told him before she left. 

But just as he's about to put everything aside and call Jack - though he probably wouldn't have answered, or taken advantage of the call to remind him that the girl is his - the door opens and a babbling Liv comes in.

"Three hours to go 10 kilometers, unbelievable!" she mutters frowning, picking at her bag, laying it on the ground with a loud thud.

He giggles and only then she seems to become aware of his presence. 

"Ben, hey. What are you doing here?" 

"Waiting for you, what took you so long?" the boy tries his best not to sound too pushy.

"They were doing some work on the road, which led to a rear-end collision. You thought I'd stayed at Jack's?!" she teases him, but he looks down guilty and Liv stops dead in her tracks, looking surprised. 

"I can't believe it"

"I'm sorry, okay? It wasn't the first thing that crossed my mind if you wanna know the truth, I swear, but you weren't answering your phone and-"

"And you thought I was fucking him, great" she states sarcastically, rolling her eyes before turning her back and heading into the kitchen. 

"I thought you realized he was better than me, not that you were sleeping with him" he points out following her as if the situation wasn't bad enough already.

"What kind of world do you live in? I could never do that to you"

"I know, and I feel guilty enough about letting myself think that, okay? Please don't be mad" he begs her as he approaches. 

"I went to talk to James" seeing she's not talking, Ben decides to break the silence with something else. Hoping that this gesture would somehow wipe the previous moment from her mind.

"You did... WHAT?" her pitch voice makes him laugh.

"I saw how upset you are about this whole thing and I wanted to help. He's still one of my closest friends after all and we hadn't had any conversations about it" Ben admits looking at her.

"What did he say?" Liv's almost afraid to ask, she's still trying to get her brain to see that someone did something nice... for her.

"I'm-I'm not so sure about that actually. I told him that I fell in love with you and he asked me to play FIFA but-" he starts babbling non-stop before being interrupted by her choked voice. 

"Are you in love with me?" 

"Yes, Liv. This whole mess with your brother wouldn't have happened if I didn't have feelings for you, would it?" he reflects. 

"You have feelings for me and you still thought I might be with Jack?" 

"I told you bef-" but the guy gets interrupted again, this time by a pair of lips resting on his. In Liv's head there is chaos, in such a short time she had received so much information that she thinks her head is about to burst for real. 

"Relax, I'm just kidding, Jack is a closed book forever now. I'm in love with someone else" she smiles tenderly to him, seeing something shines in his eyes.

"Oh yeah? Do I know him?" 

"Maybe" she shrugs, "he's a little dumb sometimes but he's cute"

Time passes relentlessly and everyone goes on with their lives. Liv and Ben are good together, now almost everyone assumes there's something between them even if there's no official confirmation yet. The two are enjoying the moment now that things seem to be almost back to normal and it doesn't matter what the others think.

Many times they slept with each other, there hadn't been a time since they had said love you to each other in which they slept apart - if you don't count Ben's away games. They had entered a routine where only one fundamentale piece was missing. James. 

“Are you sure you want to come?”

“Of course. It’s the last game of the season. I have never missed any game that finishes the season”  

“Real supporter over here. I like that.” Ben laughs while sitting down on the sofa to put on his sneakers. “Then I will see you at the stadium later the evening.”

“For sure.” Liv smiles. “I am glad everything is sorted between you and James. I am sure James will forgive me when he realises I am back at the games supporting for him.” 

“Don’t be so sure, but yeah.” Ben answers while getting up from the sofa. “I should go. But will meet you later okay.” 

“Yes. You already said that.” Liv laughs when Ben repeats himself. And after kissing each other goodbye repeatedly Ben’s finally able to leave, hoping he won’t arrive late to the stadium as he already had some fines behind his name ever since he and Liv started dating.

And so, Liv was left alone at Ben's place till the evening, some hours to pass till she could leave to the stadium. Liv was nervous to say the least, even though James and her had sending texts messages again, liked and commented on each other’s pictures, she was still nervous to meet him again, and talk with him like they used to.

Liv had spent her day by doing some research work on yet another collab with a very famous company. Ever since Liv started working together with the clothing company, her following had been growing to crazy numbers and she finally started to achieve something on her own. But maybe the fact she had posted pictures with Ben, tagging the brand, had something to do it as well, but she didn’t mind if that was indeed the fact. 

The atmosphere around and inside the stadium was something Liv had missed the few passed weeks. She hadn’t been to any games anymore ever since her and James got into the fight. Liv arrives at the back of the stadium as she usually did since James got her a VIP pass for the staff and member parking, so he knew she got in the stadium safely. 

“Ohh miss Maddison, long time no see.” Liv smiles to the person being in charge of the parking place, nodding when he told her where she could park her car. She gets inside of the stadium pretty quickly after she parked, using the jacket to hide the blue shirt she's wearing and only showing the home team logo.

The whole car ride Liv had questioned herself if she would be allowed to head down the tunnel to show her support to her brother, and of course her boyfriend. Since she hasn’t been down there for a while, she wasn’t feeling that welcome anymore. The previous year she had done it without any problems and so she started to go without thinking about it, but then she thought it would be better to be seen only at the end and she had reached her place right away.

James's sure to hallucinate when he sees her in the crowd, a smile comes spontaneously on his lips before seeing her turn around and so something inside him breaks.

Ben also follows the scene and decides not to say anything else, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder and taking him to the locker room.

The game went great, James ended the season with a goal and Liv couldn't be prouder. 

When she walks onto the field, still a little afraid to meet her brother, the jacket hangs on her arm. It was too hot to hold it up while she jumped up happy for the team's victory, so now the shirt was free to show the name she had chosen to wear. 

For a while she had been hesitant whether to wear it or not. James or Ben. But then she'd thought about it, she had both jerseys for obvious reasons but as she used to say-

"Brother always beats boyfriend" a voice behind her makes her turn, James is in front of her with a slight smile on his face. 

“Yeah” Liv whispers smiling back at him. 

"My friend did a good thing, I have to admit it" says the boy as she looks at him confused. "He made you come to a game with a smile on your face"

She doesn't take much longer to wrap her arms around her brother's neck, closing her eyes when she feels his arms wrapped around her waist.

Another smile from James when they split up, "Go, he deserves some human warmth after all" 

Liv quickly turns around seeing Ben out of the corner of her eye a few steps away from them and then makes a disgusting fake grimace at James, "You suck" 

The smile on her face and the scene he witnessed, make a big smile appear on Ben's face second only to his girlfriend one. 

"Should I be disappointed you chose your brother over me?" he jokes as she gets up on her toes to give him a sweet kiss on the lips. 

"Never" 

So the guys thank the fans all together, wasting time chatting with the others and greeting everyone as if they didn't have some holiday planned together or whatever. 

“Maddisons, pizza all together tonight?” Ben asks the two who are talking about something he can’t catch at the moment. “I swear I’ll keep my hands off both of you” a cheeky smile on his face as Liv chuckles and James rolls his eyes to the sky. 

“Why him seriously!” 

And so, they all three end up at a small pizza place in the middle of town, a small table filled with different pizza slices. The three of them having the time of their lives, totally forgotten about the fuss that had been happening over the past few weeks. Liv and James finally having their brother and sister bond back, the relationship between Ben and Liv being accepted, Liv being over the moon to finally be able to spend time with the two boys that mean the world to her.

[erideights]

Everything that we never get to say.

Request by @lady-of-black-roses : Our best angel x reader, the moment they met, their relationship through the years and a kiss in the end.

Pairing: Aziraphale x Fem!Reader (Good Omens)

Word Count: 2066.

Warnings: SO MUCH ANGST. Death. War.

A/N: I'm totally fucking sure this isn't what you was thinking this would be, but you wanted angst and I had this horrible idea and... I'm so sorry.

''—and then I said ‘Pardon me, what!? No way.’ My Bentley! Buy MY Bentley! Can you believe it?"

Aziraphale's gaze was lost in the distance through the transparent and clear glass of the window of the back room of his shop, where his most precious books were safely kept in his old desk.

He heard Crowley's voice, but he didn’t listen to him, so when the silence fell, almost like a cue to give his opinion, he just hummed.

It was raining, and the drops of water that slid down the impeccable surface before him were reflected in his eyes, eyes that for the first time in oh, so many years, mirrored a regret, sadness and longing the demon would never have believed possible in the angel.

But he was watching his back, so, in any case, he didn’t witness such an atrocious image.

"—angel, angel! You're listening? Where the fuck are you? Get down from the clouds."

But again, the blonde platinum angel didn’t answer, just sighed deeply and allowed his whole body to rock to the rhythm of that breath.

Only the red-haired demon's hand on his shoulder, who had been forced to leave his comfortable seat in search of his friend's attention, was able to tear our Aziraphale from his daydream.

"Hey, you okay?" Crowley asked when through the eyes of the angel crossed confusion and bewilderment. Question to which, quickly but worse pretended than he would have expected, Aziraphale replied:

"Of course, of course I am! I was just trying to imagine a world in which you existed without the car. But it has been in vain, certainly. I can not visualize you without it."

But it was evident that he was lying, and Crowley knew it.

The sad story our beloved angel was reviving begins a few years before the outbreak of the Second World War.

We are in London, on a lost street in a neighborhood not very rich but not poor either, where sad gray buildings stood to the sky and people walked down the street as if life had been taken from them.

The atmosphere was tense, there was no doubt about it, with the war about to explode at any moment, to allow oneself to be happy and to wear a smile was complicated to see.

But even so, there were always those special individuals, unique in their kind, who with only a slight upward curve of their lips, seemed to radiate their own light and bathe in it all who came and wanted some of its warmth.

She was just like that.

Y/N, a young librarian who worked day and night in the most lost and desolate of libraries in all London, but for some reason, was always surrounded by children hungry for her charisma, her love and, above all, her stories.

The first time he saw her, Aziraphale was desperately searching for a book of prophecies that, people told, had been discovered a few years ago in an attic of an abandoned building by the area, and like most books lost and/or without owner with real value for the state, it ended up in the town hall or in the closest library to his find.

That same day he crossed two large wooden doors, worn, scruffy by time but cozy in its tender, eccentric and strange way. And there she was, hair tied in a bun that after so many hours of work was practically undone, smile in a mouth full of white pearls for teeth and eyes that could make the most insensitive of men fall in love with her.

She chatted animatedly with a group of what Aziraphale considered mothers, their children not many meters away, huddled around a round table like knights in shining armors, reading similar books that they would later exchange and use to create a story to be able to play in the park.

The angel Aziraphale would swear he had never experienced what love was, but the moment their eyes met, the common description of that emotion was the closest thing he could feel in his more than 5,000 years of life.

She was Heaven in Earth.

But as it was habit for him, those feelings that seemed to surface in his skin were completely ignored, buried at the end of a dark chamber that until a few years later he wouldn’t have the audacity to open.

Not until it was too late.

With an affable smile and his hands, nervously playing with the end of his cinnamon-colored vest, the thousand-years-old angel made his way to the counter of the small, old but cozy library, interrupting —without wanting to— the conversation between his charming and mysterious unknown woman and the mothers of the neighborhood, who soon began chatting between them several meters away.

"Good Morning!" she chirped happily, as charming as he had imagined her. He found himself sighing and drawing the most beautiful of his smiles just for her. "How can I help you?"

Over a few years, their relationship developed between —not so— random fortuitous meetings in the library, all caused by Aziraphale under the pretext and the excuse of enjoying the calm that reigned there —he assured that, in other libraries, ‘’the tumult came to overwhelm him’’— and other approaches not left to chance itself, but by the initiative that the young Y/N showed in order to spend more time with him.

She would be lying if she said that after some time she hadn’t fallen in love with those eyes that seemed to hold all the love in the world, that tender and adorable giggle that rang in his throat when he was nervous or how he seemed to treat her as if she were the most precious thing in the universe.

His heart, his lovely personality, his empathy and how extremely intelligent he was also helped to shape those feelings that often reduced her sleep hours and kept the girl away from reality and in a constant daydream.

Oh, c'est l'amour.

But no matter how hard she tried, how many hints she dropped or how much effort she put into it; her feelings for Aziraphale didn’t seem to be reciprocated.

And that was good! She was satisfied, —or so she wanted to think—, with the shelter of his friendship with the angel.

That was enough.

But the war came to London, and one is unable to appreciate and understand the treasure that is the calm of a simple life until something like this explodes in front of you and plunges you into the flames of despair.

Chaos, destruction and crying soon seized the streets of the largest city in England.

The families were divided, the great national treasures were lost among the most atrocious fires, innocents died, and among the ashes, one couldn’t even find consolation in mourning those who lost, because in reality, there were no bodies left to mourn.

Events like this didn’t harm or disturb in the least celestial beings free of all guilt and exempt to die, anyone could think, but from the corner of one of the most lost streets in the whole city, where a small and cozy library used to be, an angel began to cry.

Aziraphale found rubble where walls and shelves once stood up to join the roof and collect all the knowledge that such a place could hold; ashes where thousands of books used to rest, waiting for someone to read again what they had to teach; a huge void in the counter from where, he then knew, the love of his life used to smile at the sight of him arriving.

A sharp thud on the ground, —a huge leather bag full of books of ancient prophecies— signaled the exact second when Aziraphale, in shock, began to walk and enter the chaos he once considered a home.

His lips trembled as did his hands and practically the rest of his body.

No, he didn’t even want to think that...

''Y/N?'' He asked in just a broken whisper, unable to raise his voice, unable to verify whether or not she had been a victim of that disaster.

Please, God, do not let her be a victim of this disaster, he thought.

'’Y/N? '' He tried again, this time louder, so the pain in his voice was so obvious that anyone who could get to hear him would know, in effect, that the soft angel was crying.

The bomb couldn’t have fallen more than a couple of hours ago. He knew it because he was there, with her, begging her to hide and search for refuge before what he thought would be a furtive meeting to hunt the enemy.

Please, God, I hope that she has listened to me, he prayed again.

But soon he would find out that God didn’t have mercy for anything and anyone. That no matter how much Aziraphale prayed, he had no greater power over the grand plan.

Because it was ineffable, right? Everything had to happen for a reason in order to achieve a specific goal.

But why, of all the millions of people that existed on the planet, of all those who perhaps deserved it, his blue eyes, sad, crystalline with tears, had to rest on the unconscious body of the woman he loved?

''No, no, no, please, no.'' He muttered in a choked way and so quickly that he couldn’t even understand himself, rushing to reach the body and hold it in his arms while his corduroy pants were destroyed by the ashes on the ground.

''Y/N...'' he begged, caressing her face, brushing the strands of hair that had clung to her sweet features from the sweat of her skin

She was breathing, but not for too long.

Her heart was beating, but his heartbeat was numbered and the clock was only moving forward in time.

''It's okay.'' she suddenly murmured, her voice no more than a barely audible whisper between her forced breathing and the silent crying of the blond angel.

She couldn’t open her eyes, her body didn’t have the strength to do it, but she could recognize that warmth anywhere; after all, she was in love with him, right?

''It's okay.'' she repeated, knowing that from her first two words, Aziraphale's eyes had been fixed on her face and that he was probably afraid to blink and that when he opened them again, she would no longer be with him.

‘’I’m sorr—’’

‘’I love you, Aziraphale.’’

His breath stopped, he was frozen in place, unable to look away from the lips that, after her confession, had drawn a tired smile.

She should tell him, right? She couldn’t leave without telling him at least once.

''I'm sorry I took so long to tell you.''

Prey of his own panic and everything that perhaps he wanted to say choked at the beginning of his throat, the only way out that Aziraphale found to give free rein to the feelings that for years he repressed in his little Pandora's box was to kiss that smile that so many times it had stolen his breath.

And he did.

Then a blink.

He, again, had allowed himself to be carried back to that memory of more than 70 years ago.

His hands caressed, distracted, the green cover of an old book that Crowley had never seen before and that he, at that moment, peeked curiously from the shoulder of the angel, wanting to ask for it but knowing, inside his chest and for some unknown reason, that he shouldn’t.

If he had, Aziraphale would have replied that it was simply a gift from an old friend.

Actually, it was the first gift he received throughout his long life.

''Do not tell anyone, but I stole this book from some archives of the Senate House Library when I was a child and I have always kept it as a treasure.

It has not prophecies, or stories of religious interest, but I think the love story it contains could make you smile on a dark and rainy April afternoon.

With all my love for my guardian angel,

Y/N.''

[polyvirnl]

In Memoriam

Petals In Ambivalence prologue

Inspired by Link Start - Lies Stopped! by DawnWave on ao3

So I found a couple DawnWave Sword Art meets Miraculous books and decided I needed more, so heres a short one while I write the actual story.

This Au is the Black Lotus AU ((and while I realize that makes it sound like Marinette is in a Red Player guild, or taking Kiritio's place in SAO, its not, its literally just bc her handle is Lotus ingame, and i wanted a some cool alias's for it.))

Also,,, its gonna be maribat of some sort probably

The somber grey sky cried as Marinette stumbled to school, something that was fitting on that day. Adorned with black button up and slacks, grey shoes and ribbons, and a single freying bracelet on her wrist, Marinette concentrated on her breathing, feeling the cold sink into her bones while her umbrella lay unused in her hand.

She sighed as she tucked it away in her bag, the school growing closer with it’s perilous stone staircases and manipulative foxes lying in wait.

Since Lila had joined the school again a month ago, she had been steadily gaining support in the school, swaying everyone with a wag of her tongue, despite the outrageous lies she boasted. Normally, Marinette was nearly late and Lila was in the classroom before her arrival-that is to say, everyone was present before her arrival.

But not today.

Today she framed her bruised eyes like battle scars, the more readily pronounced bags a testament to how she slept that night; not a wink.

She knew she wouldn't have slept well, knew the likelihood of waking up with an aching throat and haggard voice- so she simply worked and worked, schoolwork, designs, scrolling through monotonous posts online, anything to keep her mind and memories quiet, if not silent.

Marinette fiddled with her bracelet as she walked up the stairs and through the hallway, not surprised when the door she opened displayed a distinct lack of person in the room, something unheard of since she had caught up with school and rejoined.

Her things were placed in an orderly manner on her desk in the back, her notes from last night queued on her tablet, waiting for power to be turned on to be used. Her arms were crossed on the wooden surface, head turned to stare out the window with glassy, unseeing orbs.

She didn't know how early she was, or how long she waited there, alone, before her classmates started piling in, first the early birds, like Sabrina and Max, then the giggling pairs like Rose and Juleka. No one mentioned Marinette’s lackluster presence, and she had a distant thought about if they thought she was someone else, or if they didn't care anymore. Not that she was like this today for attention. She was like this in attention, in a walking memorial of those who were lost for years, a survivor who had been lost but had finally come home three years ago.

Lila and a small portion of her posse came in. Marinette didn't stirr, not moving her eyes from the dusty window pane with the sky's tears trickling down and pelting it as if to break through and steal her away, to leave a changeling in her place with none the wiser but herself.

In the reflection of the glass, she noticed faintly as Kim walked up to his desk, that Max beside him wore the same ensemble as her, black as the night except for his dark grey glasses.

Lila’s shrill voice was breaking her shield of inattention, forcing her to listen even as she subtly pressed her hands over sensitive ears until they burned. That is, until she heard a familiar name, and a pool of dread dripped over her heart with an unflinching fist.

“Of course- that was before he and Alice got together, I was the one who got them together by the way!”

Maybe I misheard, maybe she can be a decent person for once-

Adrien stumbled in, funeral clothes like two others, grey faced and tired. He greeted them all with a small, scratchy voice.

“ The game was honestly a blast, I don't know why so many people died ! It was soo easy, but maybe I'm just that good?”

Adrien stopped where he was placing his things, face growing more pale by the second, turning slowly to stare at her.

Lila flashed a devious smirk at the ground at his attention.

“What the hell are you talking about.” He almost whispered, and the class froze. Marinette raised her head and made to stand.

“Sword Art Online of course! I was telling them all about my adventures with Kirito and Alice and the other front liners, I was stuck in that death game for years you know. I'm pretty sure its been coming back up in the media recently too~”

Marinette’s fists trembled, and Adrien eyes went glassy as he lurched out of the room.

“Lila Rossi.”

Everyone whipped around to see Marinette standing with feirce eyes.

“What.”

“Are you aware of the reason SAO has been resurfacing in the media.”

Lila sputtered.

“Of course I do, Its to celebrate the newer games being released!”

A pencil snapped, and the class glanced at an ashen faced Max, his eyes widening.

“No Lila. It's for the memorial of the dead players on the third year marker of the trap being beaten and the living players released.” She took a breath, and addressed the class as they whispered to themselves. “If you would have paid attention. Three of your classmates, are wearing funeral colors, Max, would you like to tell them why?”

“Of course, Marinette. I would assume, from how Adrien ran out, and Marinette looks, that they either played the game, knew someone who was trapped in the game, knew someone who died in the game, were a beta tester but didn't play the game, had family in the game, or had family or otherwise close contact with someone that helped in the original manufacturing before Akihiko Kayaba's dangerous tampering. Therefore, they are in mourning colors to respect the 3,853 fallen players, as well as those 6,147 living, and may be attending the memorial service that will be conducted later this afternoon.”

“Thank you Max.”

Lila sneered, out of view from those under her control before widening her eyes and crying,” I ju-just didnt want t-to think about al-all my friends that died…”

“How could you two bring that up?” Alya snapped, hugging the ‘forlorn’ girl.

“What exactly is going on in here?” Ms. Mendeliev stood in the doorway, surveying the chaos.

“Marinette and Max brought up Lila’s friends from that game, and she got sad.”

“From that game?”

“Yeah from when she was stuck in SAO!” Rose helpfully explained with a reassuring squeeze of Lila's shoulder.

Ms. Mendeleiev’s eyebrow rose comically.

“Miss Rossi, you are aware that it is on record who was and was not in Sword Art, specifically so that we teachers and staff know to be careful of PTSD among other things?”

“...No.”

“Miss Dupain-Chèng, with your consent?”

“Why do you need Marinette’s permission?” Juleka murmered, confused.

“Its alright, go right ahead madame.”

“Class, and specifically you, Miss Rossi, this school hosts exactly two international players from the virtual death game MMO, Sword Art Online. These players include one male, and one female, also known as One Marinette Dupain-Chèng-.”

A still pale Adrien returned with a furious Chloe.

“Ah, Mr. Agreste, perfect timing, are you willing for me to tell your classmates about what we discussed in the hall?”

“Sure…”

“Very well. As I was saying, the two players in this school, are one Miss Marinette Dupain-Chèng, and one Mr. Adrien Agreste.”

The two stared at each other, looking over each other. Marinette stood strong under the class's bewildered gaze, nodding in acknowledgment to Adrien.

Tikki patted her from inside her purse as Lila started up again, clearly scrambling for excuses.

“M-My mother! My mother didnt write my name on the record because she thought that I would get bullied for it!”

“While that may have been possible in other cases, the players of Sword Art are public record, seperate from their alias ingame so as to not promote grudges lasting to the outside.”

Mendeleiev sighed, almost bored, and brushed the topic away as if the students were not edging away from Lila and shooting looks of disapointment, shock, and disbelief at her.

“Anyway, carrying on, as Caline has called in sick, I will be filling in for her. Open your books to page 208, and start annotating. Adrien, Marinette, and Max, if you need to step outside for a moment to calm down, do so.

Max shook his head, replacing his broken pencil with another, as Marinette and Adrien stepped mechanically towards the door.

Outside, it was quiet for a moment.

“Do you plan to go to the memorial today?”

“Father is still unsure If he will allow it. It will probably be crowded, and it does seem like it's going to be a pretty public event…”

“I could send you the e-vite to the online one, or videochat you from the one at the tower?”

“I would like that, please send me the evite, in case he doesn't allow me to go.”

“...What was your handle?”

“Luciole, yours?”

“Rōtasu.”

Notes:

*Luciole means firefly, *Rōtasu means Lotus

[chroniclesofamber]

THE CHRONICLES OF AMBER & History Lessons

It should be obvious that writers, composers, painters and all artists respond to the time in which they live, and that this is reflected in their art.  And it should also come as no surprise that some material is more strongly influenced by the historical moment than other art.  All this is at least as true for Roger Zelazny and his idolized Chronicles of Amber — perhaps somewhat more so, given that these five books in no small way chart a complete decade.

NINE PRINCES IN AMBER (1970)

History:  Pieces of the first book saw print as early as 1967.  It appears Zelazny worked on the book here and there for three years or more until its publication in 1970.  Still looming over the political landscape of the time was the assassination of John F. Kennedy years earlier, which had led to the Johnson “great society” era and from there to Nixon’s struggles with China, the Soviet Union and the Vietnam War.  Just as influential was the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., as well as that of Robert Kennedy.  The 1960s were dominated by these issues, the Cold War and threat of nuclear annihilation, the rise of the counter-culture and protest movements, the Beatles and Woodstock, and the first landing of men on the Moon.

As someone familiar with Jungian psychology and Frazer’s Golden Bough, Zelazny saw a way to harness the interregnum turmoil of the Sixties while incorporating the ritual of “the Killing of the King.”  (Conspiriologists left and right — politically, and otherwise — have long adhered to the notion that it was not a coincidence that this particular killing of the king had been carried out in accordance with ancient ritual.)  The King of Amber is missing or deceased. Factions have quickly aligned to jockey for the best position to take advantage of the power vacuum.  That a conspiracy to remove both the king and Corwin is uncovered, a few books later, also mirrors the deaths of the Kennedys.  Our hero, already in a state of confusion over his own identity and situation, is thrust into the midst of this power-struggle and — like Armstrong and Aldrin aboard the Eagle — soon finds himself visiting another world.

Lesson:  Corwin charges in somewhat blindly, and is literally blinded (and imprisoned) as a result.  When he miraculously regains both his sight and his freedom, he vows that patience and planning will guide him going forward and that, this time, he will prevail and take his rightful place in Amber.  He also learns that what drives you, what you want, has a lot to say about who you are.

Journey:  He starts out being held against his will in a hospital, recovering from broken legs and near-drowning from a car accident.  By the end of the book, he is recuperating from years of blindness and imprisonment under much better circumstances in a remote lighthouse while cared for by an old friend.  When he leaves the lighthouse, no one tries to thwart his departure (he is voluntarily assisted, in point of fact), he knows exactly who he is and what he wants, and has a clear idea of his objective and how to achieve it.

THE GUNS OF AVALON (1972)

History:  Two years pass, eventful ones.  No shortage of natural disasters — major cholera epidemics in Istanbul and Slovakia; avalanches in France and Peru; earthquakes in Tonghai, Gediz, Burdur, Bingöl, Peru and elsewhere destroy cities and kill thousands; Mount Etna erupts; Montreal is buried by the blizzard dubbed La Tempête du Siècle; the Odisha cyclone overtakes the Bay of Bengal and claims 10,000 lives; 50 tornadoes tear through Louisiana and Mississippi; floods put Bangladesh and eastern Bengal underwater; the Bhola cyclone wipes out half a million people.  But the real disasters turn out to be man-made, so much so that this period could easily be described by the phrase “state of emergency.”  The Apollo 13 mission fails, though the astronauts survive and the summer of 1971 sees a rover rolling across the surface of the Moon.  Oil-price instability and Nixon taking the dollar off the gold standard together signal economic and energy crises yet-to-come, but the real instability is social, political and military.  Coups and assassinations become commonplace as former colonial possessions are granted independence.

Keyword:  Napalm.  Bombs, terrorism, murder and violence, state-sanctioned and otherwise, plague the United Kingdom due to resistance to British rule in Northern Ireland.  American incursions into Laos and Cambodia fuel growing anti-war sentiment.  The publication of the Pentagon Papers and the COINTELPRO documents stolen from FBI offices in Pennsylvania, news images of the Kent State shootings, and revelations of the My Lai Massacre throw gasoline onto the fire:  150,000 protest the Vietnam War in San Francisco on the same day that half a million march on Washington, D.C.  60% of Americans oppose American troops in Southeast Asia.  Meanwhile, the ashes of Hitler, Eva Braun, and the Goebbels family are scattered in East Germany’s Biederitz River.  Echoing all this, Zelazny pulls from the Grail quest an idea which unites the chaos reflected in the natural and human worlds in a single image — the Wasteland — and gives it the form of the Black Road, which Corwin discovers runs all the way to the outskirts of his beloved Amber.

Lesson:  Corwin struggles with his commitment to his system of values as demonic beings and foreign-imposed dictatorship threaten the shadow world Lorraine and Amber herself.  With some reluctance, he risks his own neck for a place lost to him long ago, and abandons his scheme to turn his troops and guns against Amber when the kingdom seems on the brink of falling to an enemy coming in strength.  He understands the necessity to adapt to changing conditions and to remain flexible while pursuing his goals.

Journey:  Corwin intends to sail straight to Avalon but gets lost in his very own Wood of Error, so that a spontaneous choice leads him instead into the hell of Lorraine, its Goat, and the citadel at the heart of the Black Circle.  Toward the end of the book he is again diverted from his course in that his original mission, to exact vengeance on his brother Eric and seize the throne, is set aside when he comes upon the creatures of the Black Road at Amber’s gates.  Just as he set out seeking gunpowder in Avalon but found something else along the way — the knight errant he once was long ago — he marches to Amber to find that the regicide he believed he desired was not what he would ultimately want or choose to do.

Vietnam and the 1970s

The tide had definitely turned against U.S. participation in the Vietnam War by the first years of the decade.  Nixon, having seen Johnson’s presidency founder and meet an early end due to the war, initiated a draw-down of forces.  Australia and New Zealand pulled out of the war in 1971.  By the end of that same year, American ground forces had been withdrawn from the war effort, though involvement would drag on a few more years.

Britain, though victorious after World War I, had been left depleted and weary of war — brutal trench warfare had cost the nation more than a million lives.  The Gulf of Tonkin Resolution of 1964 more or less marked the beginning of the Vietnam War in the minds of Americans, when U.S. troop strength went from 23,000 to 184,000.  It had therefore gone on longer than World War I and wound up costing approximately 60,000 American lives.  In America a fatigue had taken hold which was not so different from what post-Great War Britain had known.

Zelazny may have been responding to the mood of the times when portraying the enormity and senselessness of the losses witnessed, and caused, by Corwin and other princes of Amber.

From the first book:

“…ten thousand men dead in a plains battle with centaurs, five thousand lost in an earthquake of frightening proportions, fifteen hundred dead of a whirlwind plague that swept the camps, nineteen thousand dead or missing in action as they passed through the jungles of a place I didn’t recognize, when the napalm fell upon them from the strange buzzing things that passed overhead, six thousand deserting in a place that looked like the heaven they had been promised, five hundred unaccounted for as they crossed a sand flat where a mushroom cloud burned and towered beside them, eighty-six hundred gone as they moved through a valley of suddenly militant machines that rolled forward on treads and fired fires, eight hundred sick and abandoned, two hundred dead from flash floods, fifty-four dying of duels among themselves, three hundred dead from eating poisonous native fruits, a thousand slain in a massive stampede of buffalo-like creatures, seventy-three gone when their tents caught fire, fifteen hundred carried away by the floods, two thousand slain by the winds that came down from the blue hills.”

What tends to jump out from that passage (especially to readers harkening back to the ’70s):

(1)    napalm dropped from aircraft on troops moving through jungles below results in a number of casualties far higher than deaths from any other cause;

(2)    immediately after thousands depart for paradise, their desertion is contrasted with the hell of the detonation of a nuclear weapon;

(3)    aside from deaths due to centaurs, war machines, nuclear warfare and napalm, natural disasters are responsible for the mass losses of life, yet the total taken by disaster is still dwarfed by the number slain in combat.

There is not much other commentary on war in the series.  The subject of warfare is largely confined to the first two books.  But there is this from the end of the sixth chapter of Nine Princes in Amber:

“As I stood on a hilltop and the evening began around me, it seemed as if I looked out over every camp I had ever stood within, stretching on and on over the miles and the centuries without end.  I suddenly felt tears come into my eyes, for the men who are not like the lords of Amber, living but a brief span and passing into dust, that so many of them must meet their ends upon the battlefields of the world.”

[…to be continued in a future post…]