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#they should at least be compelling enemies
halfagone · 7 months
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One of the things I love the most about AUs where Danny moves to Gotham City is how easily he fits in. There are AUs where Danny makes a statement and gets noticed for the great guy he is and I enjoy those too, but I love the AUs where Danny fits in as if he's always been here. Where he doesn't stand out, doesn't make a statement.
There is something so quietly compelling about this transition in Danny's life. Danny has always stood out in a negative way. His parents are the town hacks, his sister is a genius that he'll never compare to. Friends who create rallies for their respective causes and actually makes people listen. Even amongst the outsiders, Danny sticks out like a sore thumb.
Danny likes Paulina because it's safe. Anyone would have a crush on the most popular girl in school. That's expected, that's normal. Of course he wants to be popular, what kid doesn't want to be popular?
The A-Listers stand out, not because they're particularly special, but because everyone else has set the standard that only they can reach. They present these kids as what every student should be, and everyone else is just failing to reach their level.
Danny has always striven for normalcy but the only way to achieve it is to fundamentally change who he is and he can't. No matter how hard he tries he can't be that person. He can try, and god has he tried, but he can't change who he is.
And then Danny moves to Gotham.
You can use all sorts of reasons for the move. Maybe this is a scenario where a reveal goes sideways and Danny has to flee. Maybe he has a bad breakup and he wants a fresh start. Maybe he's going to college out-of-state. Maybe he received a promotion at work and his boss wants him to manage the new Gotham branch.
No matter what reason you use, it all leads back to square one. Danny is in a city where he hardly knows anyone, but has heard all the horror stories for. The crime here is nothing like he's ever experienced before. At least with the ghosts, Danny knew they were coming thanks to his ghost sense. He doesn't always get the same courtesy with Arkham breakouts.
But he adapts. It's his specialty. He adapts to new powers and new enemies all the time, he can adapt here too. Human crime might not be his specialty but he knows how to protect himself. And for once he doesn't stand out for it.
Danny is paranoid and hypervigilant? Don't worry, most people here are. They have to be. Danny has scars on his knuckles from fighting ghosts? That's not the mark of a troublemaker, that's the mark of a survivor. Danny keeps a metal baseball bat by his front door? Okay, maybe that's a little strange; most people keep their weapons by their bed.
The point is that all these habits ingrained in Danny's psyche aren't out of place in Gotham. Here, no one thinks strangely of his behavior because they've all developed habits to help them survive. There is a different normal here in Gotham, a different standard, and for once Danny can reach it.
For once Danny is normal and he didn't have to change himself in any way to achieve it. It's proof that there was never anything wrong with him. He just didn't fit in with Amity Park anymore, but there is a place out there where he can.
Gotham City might not have been the home he grew up in, but it's accepted him more than the one he left behind. On the outside, this community might seem rough and harsh and brutal. But these people understand Danny better than anyone else could, because they know what it feels like to fight every day just to survive.
And I think there's something so cathartic about leaving one home, and all the fears that come with that, only to find a better one you never thought you could have.
I don't know. It's just so personal to me.
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humdrummoloch · 4 months
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Here's an exercise to apply to your story: pick any scene and build up its stakes.
Most scenes should have at least a tiny bit of tension. Not every scene has to drip with artificial melodrama, but if the audience doesn't see a good reason to care about what's happening, they probably won't.
Using this 3-part exercise I just made up, just with a few quick bullet lists, you can dissect that scene's stakes and make them mean something.
PART 1: THE TELLING
Take a moment to focus on the stakes in your scene. What's the worst that could happen? List them.
Here's the rule: if a stake is obvious, don't count it.
Wrong: "If he kills me, I die."
Wrong: "If the villain fails to get the artefact, he fails."
Wrong: "If I lose this match, I lose."
Sure, yeah. But what ELSE?
Correct: "If I die, there'll be no one to protect my family."
Correct: "If I don't get this magical artefact before the hero stops me, my plans to take over the world will be sabotaged."
Correct: "If I lose this match, I'll never make it to the championships and show the world what I can do."
The stronger these stakes are, the better (within reason). "So-and-so might die" isn't a compelling (as it could be) narrative stake even in stories where people do die.
Even in low-stakes stories, the characters care about those low stakes. If it's important to them that they impress that client or get that job, tell us WHY they care. Is it their lifelong dream, or the promise they made to their dying mother, or the job that'll take them away from a horrible living situation? Will failure embarrass them in front of their crush?
PART 2: THE SHOWING
Now you know what could go bad, let the audience feel it. Just take things that matter and tweak them so that they're tangible.
"If I don't join the fight, my friend might die!" -> Show us an enemy raising a sword about to strike their friend down if the character doesn't rush in to save them NOW.
"If I drop out, I'll be a bad daughter!" -> Show us her parents bragging about their kid's academic performance and telling her they're happy they have a good kid with a bright future instead of some "no-good delinquent."
"If I don't pay by next week the bank's gonna take our house!" -> Show us the character begging for just a few more days, show their reaction to overhearing someone talking about buying the house from the bank to bulldoze the property. Show what the house means to them and how they made it their home.
PART 3: THE HAPPENING
Remember, a bullet seems a whole lot deadlier when it doesn't literally miss every time. But it would be strange if every scifi involved the whole planet blowing up, right? Or if the main characters all died? So, you have to show us you're not kidding by employing a secret third thing. Here's the trick to this: divide up the stakes into pieces and make one of the pieces happen.
If the protag's team is in actual danger, just one of them can die. Maybe even someone "essential" -- the climax will be boosted from the team overcoming this setback, the story becoming more clutch and unpredictable to the audience.
A marriage on the rocks? Show that their previously happy kid is suddenly hiding things from them and failing in school.
The city in danger? Show us buildings being knocked over.
Hell, the protag themselves in danger? They've got a leg they might not be using.
If a stake can't be split down like this, it might be better to have the bulldozers show up at the house during the climax. Maybe even let the house fall.
After this exercise, your scene should now feel a whole lot more weighty, whether it's a job application or a final battle to the death. Again, not every scene needs tension and it can go too far and become silly, but I hope this exercise helps you the way it helps me.
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writerthreads · 1 year
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How to write lovers to enemies to lovers: a step by step guide
By Writerthreads on Instagram
Strong initial attraction
Begin by introducing two characters who are deeply attracted to each other. Show their chemistry and connection, giving readers a reason to root for their relationship. This makes the transition to enemies so much stronger.
Conflict or misunderstanding
Introduce a conflict, misunderstanding, or external factor that drives a wedge between the characters. This should be significant enough to make them enemies or at least create a strong rift in their relationship. Examples could be competing for the same job/role, being on opposing empires, and more!
Build emotional tension
As enemies, the characters should have strong emotions, whether it's anger, resentment, or hurt. Explore their emotional turmoil and how this affects their actions and decisions. Do the characters miss each other secretly, or do they fully hate one other?
Character development
Show how the characters grow and evolve during their time apart or in conflict. Each should have their own personal journey and realizations.
Forced proximity or new common goal
You could bring them back into each other's lives through a situation where they're forced to spend time together or work toward a common goal. This could be due to circumstances, work, or a shared interest.
Slow reconciliation
Let the characters slowly rebuild trust and friendship. Highlight the gradual thawing of their feelings and the rekindling of their initial attraction. Show open and honest communication between the characters, addressing the root of their conflict and misunderstandings.
Internal struggles
Show the characters' internal conflicts as they battle their lingering anger or resentment and the resurfacing of their romantic feelings.
Shared vulnerabilities
Reveal the vulnerabilities and insecurities of both characters. This can help readers sympathize with their struggles and hopes for reconciliation.
Love and reconciliation
Eventually, as they work through their issues, allow them to rekindle their love and passion for each other. This should be a satisfying and heartfelt moment.
Remember, it's essential to create well-developed, relatable characters and a strong plot to keep readers engaged throughout this emotional rollercoaster. The lovers-to-enemies-to-lovers arc is hard to tackle, but authentic character growth and compelling conflicts will make for a captivating romance story.
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nebbyy · 4 months
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I have a request, if youre taking them.
Baldwin's wife sneaks into the battle in 1177 with sixteen year old Baldwin, his reaction and what not. make it your own, just thought this would be cool
King Baldwin x reader - My archangel
A/N: I absolutely LOVE this idea! I've never thought of a scenario like this before, so thank you so so much for the suggestion<3
Sorry if this took so long btw, I haven't been active lately because of school and work😔😔
As always, painting is "The Crown of Love" by John Everett Millais (it's so funny to me for no reason, it just makes me think of how Baldwin would be physically dragging you out of danger).
Summary: During the most importante battle of his life so far, the last person king Baldwin expected to see on the battlefield was his newlywed wife
Warning: war, but it's more of a background thing, mentions of injuries and a hint at misogynism
Word count: 5433
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It had been decided. Jerusalem's knights and soldiers would be riding towards Saladin's army at dawn, led by their king, King Baldwin IV of Anjou. Your Baldwin.
The mere idea that tomorrow your husband would find himself fighting face to face against the most fearsome of his enemies terrified you, especially knowing that you could do nothing to protect him. He had expressly said he did not want you or his sisters anywhere near the battlefield, it was too risky. You should have waited for his return, for him to be victorious astride his steed, now lying lifeless on a black bed.
You closed your eyes, begging your mind to spare you from the projection of that macabre image in your head. But you could do nothing against these emotions, which were tearing at your mind and spirit. You could not remain still and impassive, obedient and elegant as you always were as a young princess, then as a wife and now as a queen.
No, that image of you had to slumber, if only for a while. You did not have your kingdom on your mind at that moment, only Baldwin and the overwhelming desire to be close to him.
You cursed your nature for making you a woman, for not having had the opportunity to learn the art of arms and war. You cursed your long robes that prevented you from any daring movement, and your limbs because even if they were able to move freely they would not have the strength to even wield a sword.
As Baldwin fell asleep in your arms, exhausted by the fatigue that this imminent battle was costing him, and you held him close to your heart as if to compel him eternally into your embrace, you weaved a plan in your mind. A plan not to leave him alone at dawn, to stay as close to him as possible.
Because even if it was the day God would claim your husband's soul, at least you wanted to be near him as he took his last breath.
How selfish you were, not even death would have been left for him. But then again, poets have been saying it for centuries, love is the gravest form of madness.
You woke up in an empty bed, the spectre of a kiss floating on your bare shoulder where Baldwin's lips had rested a few moments before, when he had to arouse himself to lead his army into battle. And despair pervaded you almost immediately, when when you woke up still no idea had come to your mind to stay by his side, after you had hoped that sleep would grant you a solution to your problem.
Unable to hold back tears of frustration and despair, you summoned your favourite handmaiden, your nurse, old to almost retirement but cunning as a mischievous child. You wept on her welcoming lap, clutching the fabric of her robe in your fists.
"Oh Agnes, how unfair is my fate as a woman. I am asked to stand by my husband's side all my life and yet I am denied a place beside him in these dark times. And they tear him from my arms and leave me here, alone and helpless, these monstrous Saracens!" She looked at you with sympathetic eyes, stroking the long hair that fell from your shoulders, which resembled the waves of the sea as they shook slightly from your sobs. "What can I do, Agnes? You who always have a quick tongue to give solutions to my every worry, tell me what I can do, before his horse and troops are too far away to be seen."
She, like a mother consoling a child who has injured himself while playing, took your face with one hand, inviting you to turn your gaze towards her. As she wiped the tears that streaked your cheeks with her thumb, she spoke softly to you, although her tone had a hint of her typical mischief in it: "My lady, weeping over your fate does not suit you. Instead, I propose you run. Make haste to the armoury, there you are sure to find armour left behind by some lord. Do you follow me? Well, you will simply have to put on the armour, carrying a pair of your husband's breeches underneath. And keep your helmet tightly closed, so that it cannot be seen that beneath the armour there is not a brutish knight, but a beautiful queen.
Go out of the palace through the servants' passages, and buy the horse of the first man you find. Not yours, in the royal stable they would notice his absence. And then all that remains is for you to ride, ride as fast as you can, to reach the Christian encampments as soon as possible, which by then will have been set up. Remain aloof, and reveal yourself to your husband only. And do so at night, in his tent, where no unwanted eyes can see your unexpected encounter. Is it all clear, my lady?"
You merely nodded frantically with eyes wide in wonder and relief. You practically leapt into the air, quick to grab the first slip you could find and a pair of cheap shoes that you could ruin with all your impending travels. You were about to leave the room, but stopped for a moment at the threshold, before turning back to Agnes to hold her tightly in a warm embrace.
"What would I do without you, my dear. You are even better than a guardian angel, I wouldn't be surprised if one day you left some white feathers behind!" The woman squeezed you affectionately before pushing you away playfully, urging you to get out and go and do whatever she directed. "It is the job of a nurse, to solve a child's problems in the same way as a mother. But hurry now or the battle will be over before you have even found a helmet!"
You laughed lightly as you wiped the dried tears from your cheeks, wasting no more time in rushing to get what was necessary to implement your plan. You rushed in front of the crate containing Baldwin's clothes, tossing robes and shirts in the air until you found breeches fit for a ride. You hastily donned them, then dashed down the long corridors of the palace.
Once in the armoury, you began to spin like a wheel, desperately searching with your eyes for any armour. You weren't picky, anything would have been more than enough: you'd have been fine with just a breastplate, chain mail, simple shoulder straps,… But most of all, you needed a helmet. And that you found almost immediately in your mad search. It was crudely moulded and already bore a few dents on the sides, but you paid no attention to it, it was enough to conceal your identity.
You also found a breastplate, and that was all you needed. You considered taking a sword with you too, but quickly changed your mind: it might be foolish to most, but you hoped that if an enemy found you unarmed, his honour would prevent him from challenging you to a fight.
And then, your focus on your sword quickly faded as you remembered that you still had no horse to reach the battlefield. Running awkwardly, like a child ambitiously trying on his father's far too large armour, you stepped back into the corridors, this time frantically searching with your eyes for a servant to follow towards the back exit.
It must have been a hilarious scene from an outside observer, a burly swineherd looking perplexed over his shoulder as a half-armed knight los eguiva like a tin puppet through the narrow corridors. But the scene was short-lived, for after a couple of turns you finally reached the palace exit, and emerged into the crowded streets of the city.
I had to move my helmet slightly above my eyes to better see the road around you, scanning the area for any horse. You could only see two camels, a few cows, a hen with her small flock of chicks, but no horse in sight. But just when you were about to give up hope, a mysterious force swept over you.
More than mysterious force, you were almost overwhelmed by a horse held on the bridle by a dirty, smelly man. "Out of the way, kid!" Looking at the man with wide eyes, taking good care to make sure your helmet covered your features well, you strained to speak in the most naturally deep voice you could muster, attempting to fool the yokel into mistaking you for a mere boy.
"Sir how much… how much are you asking for your horse?" He laughed, opening his mouth wide and exposing his few remaining teeth, yellow and frayed, and looked at you with a look of paucity and mockery, "You're going off to war without even a horse? The Saracens will impale you like a spit, son. Not that the battle would do you any good either way, with the child king we have, they will all be wiped out. before they even reach those bloody Arabs!”
You clenched your jaw so tightly that you thought your teeth might blow out from the pressure, so hard were you trying to suppress your anger at that disrespectful commoner. Breathing slowly, trying to calm your nerves, you spoke in stiff, icy words, "30 shillings. And you leave me the saddle" The man's eyes widened, incredulous at how much a young man was willing to pay for his old, shabby horse. But he wasn't complaining at all; in fact, better for him if the thirst for war drove the youth of today to such lengths. If only he had known that it was not the bloodlust of a daring young man that was before him, but instead the affectionate madness of a desperate wife.
He did not even answer, stretched out his open hand in front of him where a moment later a bag full of coins fell. He opened it for good measure, making sure the hefty sum was true. When he was satisfied, he slowly handed you the bridle, dazed by the small fortune he was holding.
You hoisted yourself awkwardly onto the horse, and it was not a quick operation as it seemed almost impossible for you not to fall off the horse, so much was the armor restricting your every move and weighing you down. After a few minutes of tribulation, you finally steadied yourself in the saddle and with a firm gesture of your leg, spurred the steed, which galloped off in an instant.
At a gallop, the city didn't seem nearly so big. Nor did the streets seem so crowded, perhaps because the people spread out like the sea in front of Moses as you passed, trying to escape the unpleasant fate of being swept away by the running horse and its mysterious rider. You felt as if you were sailing through the waves of the sea, with people's heads bobbing up and down, a current of movement pushing you closer and closer to the city gates. No one paid much attention to you as you crossed the threshold into the kingdom of heaven, most just thought you were a careless rider who had fallen behind, perhaps this was your first battle. Whatever your problem was, it was not about the wall guards. And so your figure disappeared from the sight of the remaining citizens in the city, vanishing into the vastness of the endless desert.
You did not know quite how long you rode, how many hours it took you before you began to locate even the slightest trace of the passage of the army of Jerusalem. At first it was only small details, marks left on the ground, mainly trinkets possibly dropped to the soldiers during the ride. Then the signs of their passage became more prominent, when around a small oasis you even found a few abandoned spears, probably forgotten back by some careless soldier.
And you stopped there for only a moment, as thirst would have prevented you from going any further. As you drank from the body of water, your mind travelled in thought to your husband; who knows if he too drank from this spring? And if so, how long has it been? Will he be far from here? What would he say when he saw you retracing the passage he and his troops were tracing? At that last thought a shiver ran down your spine, most likely he would not be very happy to know you were so close to danger. You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the image of the look that Baudouin would give you if he saw you at that moment, alone, barely armed in the vast and merciless desert, with no escort to protect you…
You only hoped that the surprise and joy of seeing you at such a tragic moment might cloud his mind from any concern he might have for you. In the meantime you had quenched your thirst enough. Regaining the reins of your horse, and after a series of ministrations to remount the saddle, you resumed your ride towards the battle with the unknown outcome.
As you rode with the wind blowing in your face, with nothing to entertain or distract you, your mind could not but return again to Baldwin. You could not help it, for fear for his fate had been tearing at your soul for days without respite, ever since it was announced that a battle would take place.
Baldwin was too young for all this. He was barely of marriageable age, he could barely reign without a regent at his side, he was hardly considered more than a child, many nobles even refused to call him an adult! And then there was his illness, which although not yet crippling, had already begun to expand its deadly effect on his body, numbing his nerves and making it impossible for him to wield his right hand properly. It was really unfair, that a man in his condition should lead an army to what everyone considered certain death.
Death at the hands of the Saracens, who were rumoured to be as many as ten times the number of the army of Jerusalem. A sob escaped from your mouth, followed by a faint stream of tears that ran down your cheeks, but they were short-lived on your face, the dry desert wind dried them in no time.
Only an instant seemed to pass, time to bring a hand to his face to wipe away the dried saline tears. Yet when your gaze focused again on the landscape in front, you saw a few hundred metres away a series of white tents, a few faint rows of smoke rising in the air, a massive cross set with precious gems, leaning against a rough wooden construction. It was the camp of the Jerusalem army.
Getting off your horse, you advanced hesitantly through the camp. Looking around, you noticed the stunned gazes of soldiers and horsemen watching you, some intrigued by your unkempt armor, some confused by your clumsy way of moving. But although the attention of their gazes made you stop breathing, fearing that you had been discovered, but fortunately it was short-lived, all the men were too tired from the exertions of the journey to investigate even this oddity. Taking you for an inexperienced little boy, they looked away from you and proceeded to drag their aching limbs back to their respective tents.
But although no one gave you more than the attention you give any stranger on the street, your heart would not stop beating furiously in its cage. You quivered at the mere thought of seeing your husband again, who although he had recently separated from you, already felt as if you had not seen him for an eternity. And your soul screamed at the idea that this might be the last time you would see him alive, and urged your legs to move faster. From hesitant strides, your gait grew brisk, impatient, and faster and faster until you burst into a frantic run through the expanse of white tents.
You scanned one, two, ten, a hundred, so many that by now they seemed to you an endless bundle of the same white cloth. But although your hope gave no sign of existing from your mission, your legs were beginning to give out under the constant strain you had subjected your body to for endless hours. You had no choice but to stop to catch your breath, resting your hands on your trembling thighs as you gasped for breath. And it was in that very instant, while you neither heard nor saw anything but the roar of your heart echoing in your ears and the rough ground flattened by the heavy footsteps of the soldiers, dark because of the blurred evening light, that you heard it. That voice.
"We will discuss this tomorrow, now I need the rest" "Certainly, my lord." The dialogue was followed by a knight of high lineage who came out of the tent in front of which you had pulled up to rest. He did not even dignify you with a glance, and you could not care less, for it was not him you were interested in. He was the first man to speak who had captured your complete attention, making the whole world fade away around you. It was a jovial voice, full of life despite obvious tiredness. It was a boy's voice. It was Baldwin's voice.
You sidled up to the curtain of the tent and, before opening your mouth, breathed slowly, tending not only to ease your nerves but also to modulate your voice to make it more masculine, deeper. The deception was to be revealed only when you were alone in the tent, away from prying eyes.
"My king, I know you are now bereft of strength, but grant me a brief interview with your majesty." You could visualize him rolling his eyes, puffing silently and running his good hand over his eyes, as he was always wont to do when any courtier demanded his attention while he was already lying in your arms. And as whenever this familiar event took place, similarly Baldwin made an effort in this case to stand up and mutter a reply, unaware that the subject behind the cloth was not just any boy, but his beloved wife. "I'm afraid I'm in no condition for a meeting at the moment. We will discuss whatever you need tomorrow." Panic grew in you hearing him so indisposed. After all, you should have expected it; he had more to think about than granting an interview to an anonymous soldier. In an instant, however, you changed your strategy, if you couldn't convince him you would have to bait him, "Please, sir, give me a few minutes! I bring with me a great surprise, a gift that I know will fill your heart with joy and restore your energy!"
He paused, as if weighing his options. At least that was what you thought, but in truth Baldwin was wondering if he was going crazy. If he had only dreamed, due to exhaustion and fatigue, that the voice speaking to him from outside the tent was not any young man's, but a disguise meant to hide the angelic melodic voice of his beloved wife. Were it really her, Baldwin would not have wasted a moment in throwing open the door for her, taking her into his arms and carrying her to his momentary abode, where her presence alone could be savored by him.
But he knew it could not be possible: you, his beloved wife whose image constantly pervaded his mind, were thousands and thousands of feet away, safe within the walls of your palace, as you had promised him. It was just not possible that you were the one hiding outside the tent, his hopes were just a cruel game of his mind. But by now his attention had been caught by the stranger so eager to talk to the king, to give him this phantom gift. Perhaps there would have been cause for concern, for thought of possible deception or assault by an enemy spy, but Baldwin did not give the thought more than a second's attention, before sighing softly and turning away, gazing back at the white fabrics of the tent. "Very well, come forward then. I hope this surprise you tell me about is really that formidable."
You came close to slinging yourself into the tent, throwing yourself into Baldwin's arms in an instant, and never letting go. But you still couldn't do it; it was too risky. You merely placed a hand on the side of the fabric that closed the curtain, pulling it to go through and letting it fall back behind you. And there you stood, facing Baldwin, clad in that armor far too large for your size, your heart pounding wildly from both the fatigue of the journey and the excitement. And he slowly, with a phlegm as elegant as the waters of a stream, turned to reveal the identity of his mysterious visitor, and you had already freed your face from the tortuous confines of the helmet you had worn for endless hours.
His eyes widened, wide as never before. Perhaps for the first time in his life, Baldwin could say he was truly, truly surprised. A thousand emotions passed from his face, from astonishment, to joy, to anger, and then to sadness, and then to astonishment again. For a moment he seemed about to open his mouth, but he stopped, opting instead to run to you, putting his arms around you, holding you tight and lifting you off the ground so tight was his grip. "My affection, how can you be so foolish! This is no place for you, so far from home, close to the enemy… You promised me you would stay safe, let me go, let me protect you! How could you do something so rash, you who are always so wise? Alone through the desert, what if the enemy had met you before I got here? What would I have done if your lifeless body, tortured by the Saracens, had been brought to me?"
His voice was exhausted, worn out by weariness and emotion that blocked his throat and threatened to make hot tears fall from his white cheeks. His words were harsh and stern, but devoid of any reproach: it was his fear speaking, his fear of seeing you the next day among the stacked bodies of war victims. And as he spoke he held your arms, shook you lightly, and in the process interrupted himself to place chaste kisses on your face, as if through the touch of his lips he was trying to convince himself that you were really there, standing before him. That it was not a mere illusion, a game of his mind.
Gently, with a touch as light as the morning wind, your hands went up his chest to his beautiful face, which you lovingly cupped. "I swore before God that I would not abandon my place at your side until the breath leaves my body. I have enjoyed with you wealth, pomp, and good fortune. But what you have granted me to witness is only half of the aspects of a nuptial union. Poverty, sickness, and the misery of war are the woes that touch every human being, and which two spouses are expected to face together. So now, my king, I beseech you, do not deny me a place at your side as you fight for the honor and freedom of the Holy Land, do not deny me a duty that has been mine since you and I were joined in eternity. It is unjust what you have subjected me to, to have to watch you ride away from me, toward the worst of dangers! And how could you think I would let you go just like that, without opening my mouth? Now we are even, I have retraced the path you yourself have traced, as bereft of safety as you were bereft of my presence. And now together we face this mortal danger, which, however, will never hold a candle to the pain that distance from you brings me!"
Baldwin's eyes softened, though they had a melancholy note in them. He inhaled with shuddering breath, and his grip became softer on your body, his hands descended from his arm to your waist, always holding you as close as physically possible.
"I was always told that silence honors women. This does not suit you, for depriving you of speech robs you of the royalty that makes you my queen. I ask your forgiveness, my angel, for leaving you alone in such a dark time. But try to understand my choice, how self-centered would I have been to ask you to come with me, in the midst of the greatest danger? It was simply too much for me, my beloved, the burden on my heart, begging me to do all that was permissible to keep you safe, even if that necessitated keeping you away from me. You are too far away now for me to send you back to the palace with an escort, and my heart could not bear to part with you for even another hour. You will stay here, ruling your people as you should. But please do not do me the wrong of setting foot on that bloody battlefield tomorrow. If even God decides that tomorrow my hour has come, and I fall lifeless on the bloody ground, do not move a step, do not show any sign of weakness. Don't follow me into the afterlife, don't even think about it: I know full well that I will never have the honor of lying eternally by your side, I am not worthy of it, so don't jeopardize your precious life in the name of an eternity by my side."
You did not respond, and silence fell. Squeezing together for another moment, you broke away shortly thereafter only to move to the bed set up in his tent, not as luxurious as his usual palace bed but certainly far more comfortable than the hay bunks in which soldiers elsewhere rested. Clinging to each other, you remained silent for a few moments. Or maybe it was hours, neither of you knew. Nor did you care, knowing how much time had passed, how much more separated you from the inescapable fate that awaited you the next day. Silent tears streaked your faces, sobs and sighs filled the air of the room. Then, you took courage to open your mouth, your voice soft and melancholy, weakened by weeping. "How unfair is our fate, affection. How bitter is my soul, knowing that tomorrow I must witness such a slaughter, an open-air slaughterhouse in which you yourself may become yet another victim."
As your first response you heard a snort from your husband, who squeezed you tighter for a moment, as if to secure you beside him, engulf you in his body. His lips pressed against your temple, placing a gentle kiss there, and they remained resting there even as he began to speak, "I know, I know my angel. I too wish things were simpler, that I could retire from this world, go and live with you, away from all this chaos, all this violence. You don't know how much I would have liked to abdicate, to leave the throne to Sybilla and her husband. They would have been good rulers, if only dear William had not passed away so soon. And so we have only to live like this, my beloved. To live perpetrated by the duties and horrors that mankind is capable of, all in the name of God's affection," a pause, a look that said a thousand silent words, and then resumed, "in the name of my affection for you… Tomorrow it will be an honor for me to fight, for like the valiant Lancelot, who fought to his last breath in the name of beautiful Guinevere. I do not care if my life will be endangered, if I return wounded and maimed more than leprosy is already reducing me. No, I don't care, because at the end of the day, whether my heart still beats or not, I know that I will return to lie in your arms.
And that makes up for all the injustices I will have to face." The last words were whispered, softened by a deep affection that numbed the senses and made everything as graceful as the clouds in the sky.
More tears streamed down your rosy cheeks, but you tried to conceal them by hiding your face in the crease of Baldwin's neck. The tone grew sterner for a moment as he resumed speaking, intimating you to listen with a grip on your shoulder. "Just promise me that, in case the battle goes badly, and I am dead and defeated and my whole army with me, promise me that you will escape, as far away as you can. Find shelter at the dwellings of those who have abstained from this conflict, find asylum in churches and in any sacred place you can find. Do whatever you can in order to protect your life. Protect what has always been dearest to me, your life."
"I will, I promise." You would have liked to retort, or much less say what he wanted to hear without really thinking it. But deception did not suit you, not toward Baldwin at least. And the mere thought that that might be his last will, which made you want to throw yourself to the ground and cry every tear you had in your body, also made it impossible for you to disobey that simple request, which after all was the request that you care for your own body and soul.
Whether Baldwin had taken your word for it or not, you were not sure, it was hard to say. It didn't matter, both of you were too tired to linger talking any longer, contrary to your usual routine of endless discussions on all kinds of topics. He whispered something to you in his native tongue, and although the language was vaguely unfamiliar to you and fatigue clouded your mind, you could still discern a sweet "I love you" among the words he spoke.
The next day your awakening was similar to the day Baldwin left Jerusalem: alone in bed, the place where your husband lay still warm. Outside the men were shouting orders and the horses were pawing in irritation at the din. In the distance you could hear the cries of the Saracens approaching, and the horns of war echoing in the air. You tried to peep your head out of the tent, but a guard surprised you right in front of the entrance. "My lady, his majesty has ordered that you do not leave the tent until the battle is over." The tone was authoritative and gentle at the same time, but his spear was stretched across the opening of the tent, an admonition far more direct than his words. You obeyed, as you had promised Baldwin that same evening, and without protest you retreated back inside the small temporary dwelling.
And so you stood there, alone and unaware of what was unfolding beyond the white tent. The last sound you were able to discern was your beloved's voice inciting his men to battle, before the din of war produced such a cacophony that it was impossible to understand a single sentence spoken. They rode for a few hundred meters until they reached the place where the battle would take place. They rode so far that the din they caused as they passed became muffled, barely audible. And perhaps it was for the best, for the distance muffled the atrocious sounds of war, of slaughter.
And so you waited there, within the four fabric walls, white as snow, that you feared at every moment might be stained with blood, friend or foe. You waited for the outcome of the battle, dumb with fear, with tension. You awaited Baldwin's return, dead or alive, victorious or defeated. And you did so by standing there, closer to him than was possible, exhausted and restless at the same time.
A/N: Yallll this was LONGGGG. i really really like how this turned out, and i hope you do too! I'm really sorry for how long it took me to write this piece, but I promise the following ones will take much much less🙏🙏🙏 Anyway, now I gotta go start working on those, feel free to leave a comment or feedback about this fic<3<3
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centrally-unplanned · 1 month
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Atomic bombing of Hiroshima & Nagasaki: Based or Cringe?
Hiroshima = based, Nagaski = cringe, we having it both ways today baby!
But okay to not meme, this is a very complex question. Fundamentally, the mass-scale strategic bombing of civilian targets in World War Two was a dubiously effective policy that killed millions of innocent people. I judge no one for strategically bombing tank factories with the accuracy you had in 1943, that is just the harsh realities of that war, but that is not a description of what Allied strategy was (or not just, they also bombed tank factories). There were legions of air power proponents executing a strategy of "maximizing civilian casualties to break the back of the enemy", killing babies was the point, and the horrors of things like the firebombing of Tokyo are literally inconceivable to those who have never been in such times. Morality is not divorced from results - if it worked, if it made Germany & Japan surrender after a night of bloodied streets, then I would be hard-pressed to fault them. But that isn't what happened. It probably did something, sure, but the calculus is grim.
From that lens you can see Hiroshima as a culmination of a horrible strategy; but I don't think that is the only lens you have. World War Two was, in my opinion without peer, the highest stakes conflict humanity has ever fought. Nazi Germany's combination of dystopian vision and backed-by-steel ambition makes it the worst government to ever exist; Japan is certainly in the top 10 as far as these things go. And while we with our tables of GDP and steel output can say the Allies had it in the bag, that is never how people fighting a war see things.
Additionally, the methods of World War Two emerged from the almost-as-cataclysmic horrors of World War One; a conflict that utterly destroyed the governments of half the countries that fought it in. And their replacements were...not great! It was not a war that broke imperialism to usher in liberalism, even if steps were made that way. After WW1, people were desperate to find a way to fight the next war in a way that wouldn't condemn themselves to endless trench warfare they had gone through, one that wouldn't bring them to the brink of collapse, even if it fucked over the other guy.
Strategic bombing was born from this impulse - its founders truly hoped it would break the back of opposing nations, that once you "won air superiority" and started smacking Berlin the white flag would be raised. This didn't happen, but you didn't know that in 1941. Or in 1942. Or in 1943. Maybe it's just around the corner in 1944? You really want to stop now? 90% of Strategic Bombing Commands quit just before their enemy's will is finally broken, don't you know? In hindsight it is easy to say, in 1944, that they should have taken to foot off the pedal, that the war was won, and that this strat wasn't the way. And to be clear, they should have, they should have done that. Better men would have done that. But that is the high bar I am holding them too, not the floor. In this time period most people just didn't think civilians got spared in war, it was a different time. Morality's aim is universal, but the steps of the individual towards them can only be contextual. I think they were wrong, and to be clear by 1945 it was becoming quite obvious that the war was over and this was unnecessary. But few of us are so immune to the sins of inertia in a war.
From that lens, Hiroshima is the most justified civilian-targeted strategic bombing conducted in the entire war. Because unlike the inertia-creep of the Dresden firebombing, it had a very clear purpose - compel the Japanese government to surrender by demonstrating a weapon they could not hope to defeat, something that would save tens of thousands of American lives and likely hundreds of thousands of Japanese lives. I believe it did do that - not only do I think it was at least as important as the Soviet declaration of war, but the one-two punch of timing them together was a calculated psychological blow that certainly didn't hurt.
But more importantly Truman was not privy to the sessions of the Supreme Council for the Direction of the War, he could only guess where they stood. Within that context Hiroshima was a calculated gambit that makes sense; because strategically bombing civilian targets was the order of the day at that time, and that all the big solo-military targets were essentially bombed away at that point, the idea of some kind of "display" against a dummy target or something - to a government the US had barely any communication with, wasting a scarce resource - was just not politically in the cards. Hell, neglecting to bomb Kyoto for cultural reasons, and doing things like dropping leaflets warning civilians ahead of the attack to flee, were already tail-end of the humanitarian practices of the time. I cannot armchair judge Truman for making hard calls with the stakes as high as they were.
However, Nagasaki was a classic interia case. It was done because the US had the bomb and we were bombing cities. It made even less sense than campaigns before, because now the US had a "reason" to think surrender might be imminent, so giving it a few days had far more logic. This one I judge much more harshly. It was the decision of a system that just did violence by default. Which of course it was, it was World War Two. But results are morality - Hiroshima probably saved Japanese lives. Nagasaki did not. Them's the breaks.
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murkycran · 5 months
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Radiostatic/Voxal Fic Rec List
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Welcome to my Radiostatic/Voxal Fic Rec List! ^_^ This will include romantic, platonic, and/or queerplatonic Radiostatic fics (and admittedly probably a couple of Radiosilence fics, too).
I will keep updating this periodically as I read more fics, so feel free to check back every once and a while! I'll reblog it when I update it, plus make a note with the date at the top. Trust me, this is by no means a complete list; there's fics I still want to add to this that I just haven't gotten to yet. I just decided to go ahead and post it anyways, because if I kept waiting until I ran out of fics to rec I'd probably be working on this forever.
These are not in any particular order; I'm going by both my Bookmarks list on AO3 and my memory of fics I forgot to bookmark. I also tried to make notes on what fics were written before season 1 released, but I might have missed some, so keep that in mind.
Please let me know if any links don't work or are wrong!
✨Before you proceed:✨ read the tags on these fics if you decide to read them. Many of them have heavy material - no surprise given the fandom, but still, felt like this needed said. On that note, there's also fics with explicit material and some fics are straight up PWP. Again, read at your own risk/heed the tags.
Fic Rec List Masterpost
Staticmoth Fic Rec List
Misc. Vox Fic Rec List
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Radio Healed the Video Star by Aspiring_Forest_Witch
Summary: Alastor comes across an unconscious and battered Vox while out on one of his strolls. He feels compelled to bring him back to the hotel.
Notes: 98% of this fic was written before season 1 was released, so keep that in mind, because there's obviously going to be inconsistencies with canon. It's nearly finished (at least according to the author's notes in the latest chapters, I think). I suggest pacing yourself with this one - it's nearly 700k words long. I ruined a good sleep schedule staying up to get through it. (So worth it though.) There are quite a few OCs in later chapters, but they're such good OCs. You fall in love with them just as much as the canon characters, I swear. I would die for Verity and the Trio.
Let's Misbehave by joosymango
Summary: Alastor wins a bet against Vox, now his rival must stop pestering him for two weeks. It should be a pleasant break! So why does he miss the idiot?
Notes: Vaguely inspired by Aspiring_Forest_Witch's Radio Healed the Video Star. Also largely written before season 1 release. First fic I read for the HH fandom. ^_^
Safe with Me Series by rillo (rillyrillo)
Summary: Having only ever set his sights on men who treat women with odious disrespect, Alastor never thought he'd take interest in Vox's turbulent relationship with his fiancé and business partner, Valentino. He decides to lend a helping hand in the hopes of getting Vox out of his sticky situation. After all, what are childhood enemies for?
Unfortunately, neither Alastor nor Vox could've predicted the rollercoaster of unsaid emotions and future horrors that are thrown their way. Will they be able to rely on each other and get by unscathed? Or will destiny have other plans for these two?
[HUMAN AU] [There's art included for the human designs]
Notes: It's so, so good. ;-; Heed the tags. There's a prequel consisting of oneshots, plus a sequel (listed below, bc I can't not put it here)! And there's ART! So much art!
You, My Everything by rillo (rillyrillo)
Summary: Some say that love can conquer all, even in Hell.
Vox begged to differ, and he was damn well sure Alastor did too – or at least he would be, if Alastor hadn’t become one big question mark.
Sequel to Safe with Me.
Notes: Only read if you've read Safe With Me!!! Still pretty early in the story but so good. ;-; The angst, I swear...
You're on the Air by rillo (rillyrillo)
Summary: A series of short, daily conversations between a radio host and his avid listener, as the two learn more about each other’s lives over the air. Set in the late 90s/early 2000s.
Notes: Same author as Safe with Me, but not set in the same universe! This one is set up in a literal radio show format; almost entirely dialogue-centric.
Of Candied Pine and Cherried Smoke by rillo (rillyrillo)
Summary: Inspired by x_Arcticfox_x’s fanfiction: Blue Raspberries And Cherry Cola
After overdosing on them one too many times to curb the steadily weakening suppressants, Vox's body rejects them outright. Now with his scent getting stronger, he finds himself struggling to hide his true status as an Omega. In his desperation, he seeks help from the one person that knows his secret: Alastor.
Notes: Omegaverse. Same author as Safe with Me series and You're on the Air!
Blue Raspberries And Cherry Cola by x_Arcticfox_x
Summary: Vox is an omega, that's his biggest secret.
During his life time he hid this fact using suppressants, and counited to in death. One day he runs out of pills and his supplier is out of stock for the time being so Vox is forced to submit to the torture of going through heat for the first time in decades.
Too bad his business partner only see's omega's as mere object's...
But hey, at least Angel found him just in time, right?
Notes: Omegaverse. Currently on hold, but has 14 chapters currently available for reading. :)
Once Bitten, Twice Shy by The_Penny_Tails
Summary: Alastor decides that it's time to claim what is rightfully his, consequences be damned.
Notes: It's not porn but it might as well have been for how fucking intense this scene was. 😳
Dripping Pink by The_Penny_Tails
Summary: Just before an Overlord meeting, Alastor gets infected by an off-market, highly potent, and incredibly dangerous love potion. Nobody realises until it's too late.
Notes: Simultaneously funny as fuck and erotic as all hell. I suffered from so much secondhand embarrassment on Vox's behalf. It's wonderful. :D
Lucidity's Fog by The_Penny_Tails
Summary: Ever since he met Alastor, Vox has been having raunchy dreams about the deer. Those dreams suddenly stop when Alastor disappears. For seven years, he's free of the guilt, of the shame brought on by his unconscious desire.
Until Alastor comes back, and Vox is plagued by a new dream the same day he finds out about the news. This time, however, something is distinctively different about how the deer is acting.
Notes: Author tagged for light angst, but ngl the ending did not feel like 'light' angst to me lol. Hurt in a good way.
Finger Tips and Dotted Lips by The_Penny_Tails
Summary: Alastor has sensitive hands; he finds this out at the most inconvenient time possible. Unfortunately, Vox is the one who ends up paying the price for it.
Having to help a seemingly broken Overlord whilst navigating this new discovery proves to be a little more taxing than the Radio Demon could ever have imagined.
Notes: Alastor is such a troll in this omg.
Thawing Out by Seaside_Dreaming
Summary: Seeing a small crack in Vox's screen nags at Alastor more than he likes to admit.
Vox wishes things were better. Sooner or later, Alastor has to come to terms with the fact he has feelings, in general.
Notes: Written before season 1 release. HIGHLY suggest reading the prequel one-shot. It's not necessary to understand the plot here, but you should read it anyway.
Static by passthevoxcord
Summary: Vox creates a new and improved version of himself to please Val, only to be replaced by it. He is left beaten and broken with no one to turn to . . . except maybe his oldest enemy, Alastor.
Notes: Written before season 1 release.
Hating you feels so good by TwoBitJester
Summary: Vox obsesses over his returned enemy and finds himself a little too wound up
Notes: Very good PWP.
Laced Over Dinner by hazbinhearts
Summary: Vox is persuaded to dress a little differently over dinner for Alastor, but finds it remarkably uncomfortable as the night goes on. Written for VoxWeek21 Day 3: dressing up [appearance, formal, dance].
Notes: Written before season 1 release. Corsets. 😳
Observer by DeviousPossum
Summary: He moved the cursor to click off, when he suddenly heard a very recognizable static laced tone.
Alastor.
Alastor.
What the fuck. Alastor is singing.
Vox unintentionally ran claw marks across his desk, an increasingly common habit for him as of late. He grimaced at his now ruined table and unsuccessfully tried to reel in an inexplicable feeling that could only be described as jealousy.
Notes: Porn with a tiny bit of plot in the first chapter. :3
RadioTV Week 2021 Series by Heliosolar
Summary: Pretty much the title; various prompts.
Notes: Written before season 1 release. All worth reading, though they aren't connected.
Sharkblocking by Anonymous
Summary: Alastor is Vox’s number one rival. Incidentally, though nobody involved is aware of it, Alastor’s number one rival is actually Vox’s pet shark.
In which Alastor is actually a little obsessed back and Vark is the biggest obstacle to Radiostatic short of canon itself.
Notes: VARK!
Control + V by TooManyPsuedonyms
Summary: Vox and Alastor have a... thing. Not quite a relationship, but something. Vox is too scared to define it properly, and Alastor is dead set that Vox will eventually get bored of his lack of reciprocity and move on.
So, Valentino tries to show Vox what he is missing.
... too bad Vox didn't want him like that. ... too bad Alastor didn't know want is a vague word.
Notes: Heed the tags!!! There's currently a sequel; I haven't read it yet, but I definitely plan to. 👀
gift of the magi by vol_ctrl
Summary: "... Although husband and wife are now left with gifts that neither one can use, they realize how far they are willing to go to show their love for each other, and how priceless their love really is ..."
Alastor/Vox established relationship fluff.
Notes: Written before season 1 release. Very sweet. ^_^
the lost tape by vol_ctrl
Summary: There's a NEW ambitious media demon in Pentagram City. You never get a second chance to make a first impression, right?
Notes: Written before season 1 release.
12 Days of Yuletide by vol_ctrl
Summary: A parody of the 12 Days of Christmas traditional tune, as can only be done by Vox gifting to his beloved adversary.
Or, a series of letters from the desk of Alastor upon receiving a series of increasingly elaborate gifts from his insufferably modern foil during the holiday season.
Notes: Written before season 1 release.
Fear makes the heart grow fonder by Graysongirl
Summary: After a bit of inspiration from an unlikely source Vox comes up with the plan that scaring Alastor is the best route to gaining his affections. The haunted house at LuLu World seems like the perfect (safe) environment for a bit of pre-planned scaring...
[Stand-alone staticradio]
Notes: Written before season 1 release. Funny af. "Red! Red!" XD
Cordyceps, King of Ants by spappest
Summary: Vox is tired. Of Valentino. Of Velvette. Of Alastor, and Hell, and everything in between. He can't escape, but he can cut himself off, piece by piece, until he feels nothing at all. Alastor takes exception to this approach and commissions a certain princess of Hell to fix his foe. Now Vox has a hotel of misfits on one side of him, overlords on the other, and Alastor crushing his cage ever smaller.
Clearly, the only way Vox will get any peace and quiet is to just kill God.
Valentino did always tell him that he had no chill.
Notes: Started before season 1 was released. Technically features Staticmoth but it's not the focus as much as Radiostatic (which honestly has a relationship status of ??? not romantic but also not friendship or even strictly enemies...just...Alastor and Vox). O_O I think about this fic on a daily basis.
Russian Roulette by spappest
Summary: Vox and Alastor play a game that Vox is way too excited to lose.
Notes: Started before season 1 release. Take note!!! I'm putting this on the Radiostatic list because it's almost entirely centered on Alastor and Vox's dynamic, but the romantic relationship is Staticmoth. The Staticmoth is just not featured very much.
Vox and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Afterlife by spappest
Summary: Alastor goes into rut.
Vox has a bad time. Then a good time. Then a very bad time. Then a brief vacation. Then a confusing time.
Notes: Background Staticmoth, but Radiostatic is most prominent. Funny af. Alastor and Vox have...a very special relationship. Lol.
Killer Ex by FanGirl48
Summary: Alastor was a serial killer who valued his privacy. So when someone who claims to know what he is tries to barge into his life he can't let them live, his secret must be protected at all cost.
A normally easy task easy task becomes complicated when Alastor's ex-boyfriend is dragged into the whole thing forcing the serial killer to go visit them for the first time in seven years.
Notes: Human AU. Love me some possessive Alastor. <3
Negotiations by FanGirl48
Summary: Vox had no interest in attending a meeting between Heaven and Hell following the failed attack by the Adam and his Exterminators. Alastor's little gremlin caused the mess, so he can go clean it up. Vox had nothing wanted nothing to do with the radio demon, king of hell or heaven.
But that was before Lucifer made the media overlord aware of Valentino's little job offer to his daughter.
Damnit Valentino!
Notes: "And they were roommates!" "Oh my god they were roommates"
Down, Up, and Back Down by CowboyEnthusiast
Summary: Vox dies. Surprisingly no one takes this well.
Or, Vox dies and Alastor tries to drag his soul back from Purgatory.
Notes: Another fic I think about daily... Heavy themes. Heed the tags.
Hold Me Like a Grudge by Rachello344
Summary: Alastor has spent a long time running from Vox. Vox has chased after him almost as long. When suppressants fail throughout the city, they finally collide.
Notes: Omegaverse. Fun fact about this author: all their Radiostatic fic titles are from Fall Out Boy lyrics lol. (I fucking love FOB sue me.) I haven't yet read all of Rachello344's Radiostatic fics, BUT I have them all on my To Read list because I've loved everything I've read of theirs so far lol.
What Makes You So Special? by Rachello344
Summary: With Lucifer’s return to the Pride Ring, the other Deadly Sins were bound to take notice. When Asmodeus stops by the Pride Ring to visit the Morningstars, the Vees are able to make a deal to host a pop-up shop of the incredibly popular Lust Ring establishment, Ozzie’s, bringing it to the Pride Ring for the first time.
When Vox and Alastor both attend the restaurant’s opening night, long repressed sparks fly, forever changing their relationship.
Notes: Because of the pacing of this (sex first romance later), I feel like this is the Radiostatic equivalent of Femalefonzie's Freak-A-Zoid (a really good Staticmoth fic). This is hands down one of the most romantic Radiostatic fics I've read. ^_^
Hold Me Tight (or Don't) by Rachello344
Summary: Alastor and Vox finally come to an understanding, both of each other and of what they each mean to the other. Their relationship evolves accordingly, one concession at a time, until they both get everything they could possibly want: power, companionship, and even love.
Notes: So, so good.
Keep You Like an Oath by Rachello344
Summary: Alastor normally wouldn’t bother with the chore—breaking into V Tower was quite a lot of work, even for him—but he found himself curious about what Vox and his little friends might be working on. Especially since whatever it was had Angel concerned enough to report back to the rest of the hotel about it.
Of course, before he can learn anything, he’ll need to sneak past Vox’s watchful eye…
Notes: God it's just...so good. Read it. Radiostatic reconciliation. One thing I love about Rachello344 writing Radiostatic is Alastor's terms of endearment for Vox. ^_^
To Be Yours by pinegreenapples
Summary: Alastor hears something he hasn't heard in years. He decides to investigate why now, of all times, this frequency has turned back on. Vox is not amused.
Notes: Hurt no comfort. Hurts so good, though. ;-;
oleanders in june by spoondrifts
Summary: It seems like while Alastor was off preying on the self-destructive addictions of desperate sinners, Vox was off getting himself beaten half to death, probably from spouting belligerent nonsense at someone with violent tendencies and a far lower threshold for disrespect than Alastor. Not everyone finds poor Vox’s chatter as charming as he does.
If Vox is unconscious, then Vox is not being entertaining, and Alastor came here to have fun, not play nursemaid.
Or: Drunk on power and itching to cause some mayhem, Alastor hunts down the only person in the city who's always up for anything. Unfortunately, he finds Vox... not exactly in tip-top shape. No matter; he can work with that too.
Notes: ^_^ Very sweet.
equilibrium by curtailed
Summary: Post-Finale. The Hotel finds Alastor right on the front lawn, unconscious and bleeding, still injured from Adam's blade. While he recovers, all of Hell scrambles to find out who his mysterious rescuer is.
Meanwhile, Vox tries not to freak out that he might have accidentally made a soul bond to save that deer asshole's life. All he had wanted to do was to scope out the ruins of Alastor's radio tower. Fuck him for being curious, he supposed.
Notes: This fic has me in a CHOKEHOLD. I love the characterizations so, so much. Manages to fit in humor alongside the angst. One of the best fight scenes I've ever seen put into words. Curtailed really took Vox and Alastor as characters and planned out a cool fucking fight scene using their unique abilities. I automatically love anything tagged with "one fell first but the other fell harder" lol.
candlelight by curtailed
Summary: Despite the #SirRepentious success, Heaven remains skeptical of a sinner's ability to change. Logic gets lost somewhere, and really, what's a better way to show sinners can be marginally less horrible than to stick two Overlords who hate each other in the same living space?
OR
Alastor and Vox play house.
Notes: The comedy of Alastor and Vox being forced to be civil with each other and then unintentionally becoming very domestic together. Lol
wallow by curtailed
Summary: A 2+1 fic. Two times when Alastor and Vox were in a love triangle (hard quote on love, hard quote on triangle), and the one time Alastor had Vox to himself.
Notes: Only 1 (very good) chapter so far, but safe to say pretty heavy already. Heed the tags.
Addicted by Dancingdog
Summary: After the latest argument with Valentino, Vox finds himself at the Hazbin Hotel. An injured Alastor is less-than-pleased to see him, which is understandable considering they are enemies.
But as more and more of Valentino's venom leaves his system, Vox begins to remember his days before V-Tower and he learns exactly why Alastor rejected his offer all those decades ago.
His memories return in fits and spurts - not all of them good. His past with Alastor isn't something he expected and it turns out that he isn't the only one suffering.
Notes: Dude. This fic hurt me. Such good angst.
Radio Made the Video Star Series by songofhell
Summary: Snippets of Vox and Alastor's afterlife, and their journey from strangers to friends to enemies to... something more.
Notes: Pretty much what the series summary says - a series of installments that chronicle the beginning and subsequent evolution of Alastor and Vox's relationship. Very good, has tons of possessive!Alastor, which I die for.
Uneasy by Saezs
Summary: “Something’s wrong with Voxy.”
Velvette’s eyes snapped to the tall moth pimp. “And?” she prompted with a raised eyebrow. As if she needed to deal with two piss babies this close to a show. Valentino shrugged, tapping away on his phone, and walked away to stand threateningly close to her new models. Before she could snap at him, she saw it; his wings were twitching. Barely noticeable to strangers, just under the hum of the building’s lights, he was squeaking with each tap of his fingers. She felt unease and a healthy dose of aggravation swirl in her stomach.
Or: Vox was roofied and sexually assaulted. Velvette tries to be better than her mother. Unexpected connections are formed.
Notes: Heed the tags! Features genderfluid Vox. :)
Five Times Vox and Alastor Danced and One Time They Didn't by Drowsy_Salamander
Summary: “I say, good fellow, what are you doing on the ground like that?”
The voice was perky, cheerful, and bright. It had a crisp mid-Atlantic accent, the kind Vox remembered being all the rage for stage and film performers back when he first entered the broadcast industry. The diction was crystal clear with every sound enunciated separately to maximise clarity, the consonants clicked and the vowels were broad. It was a performer’s voice.
A voice for radio.
Oh shit.
... Five times Vox and Alastor danced and one time Vox and Alastor didn't.
From their first meeting through their friendship, to their enmity and fighting. From infatuation to yearning to animosity. Dancing is a partnership, is it not?
Notes: Each chapter so far has been a different type of dance, which is really neat. Especially chapter 2. ^_^ That said, there's a feeling of impending doom, knowing what happens to their relationship eventually... Not saying that as a deterrent but just a comment on how I felt while reading it lol. It's very sweet, which is why it hurts to think of future chapters. 🙃
Days Long Past by Momo52
Summary: All sinners of hell bore some physical marks of how they lived and died. Some physical manifestations were more obvious while others were subtle. Vox was not an exception to this rule.
While his television head was an obvious indication of his life while on Earth, the mark he bore from his death was far more subdued. Luckily enough, his shame was easily concealed behind a high collar. Unfortunately, he is just as well known in his afterlife as he was in his life. As such, trying to make everyone believe that he is so much stronger than what his death implies is a constant battle. He only wished that he wasn’t the hardest one to convince.
Notes: I think platonic Radiostatic is the endgame here. Still pretty early in the story, but I'm really liking this author's depiction of Vox and Alastor's pasts. Heed the tags. There are heavy subjects such as suicide (very big theme for Vox's pov) and period-typical racism (in Alastor's past) present in the story.
Remote Access by x-UsoTsuki-x (its_not_reael)
Summary: In the aftermath of Alastor and Vox's electrifying on-air showdown, Vox finds himself unusually rattled. His usual suave demeanor is slipping, much to his cohorts' amusement – and concern. Velvet can do little more than roll her eyes at his antics. Valentino, on the other hand, is convinced that all Vox needs to do is get fucked and relax.
or, alternatively...
The tech-savvy overlord manages to snag a virus from a porn site and finds himself in the arms of his worst enemy.
Notes: Fairly certain this is firmly Radiosilence based on the tags (and the direction of the story so far). Very funny, very hot. Vox is pathetic in this one. Lol
Nun-thing Like You've Ever Seen Series by A_Cypress_Coffin
Summary: Alastor, the feared radio demon with more blood on his hands than most of hell combined, wasn't always as we imagine him. There was a time where instead of a dapper suit and smile he donned a simple vow and habit. That didn't last of course, but the journey is quite something.
Notes: This author has a great sense of humor, lmao. I enjoyed the unique headcanons for Alastor's backstory. The tag that hooked me: "Accidentally becoming a better person through bad domming and found family".
Empathia by The_Oblivious_Swallow
Summary: Creating new technology is boring, sex is physically unappealing, the other Vee’s are so annoying, annoying, annoying! Even Vark, his baby, his pride and joy, doesn’t stir the same joy in his heart like he should.
So, Vox had concluded that it had to go. For his sake.
Notes: Contains Staticmoth, but Radiostatic seems like the endgame (I write this as there is one chapter still left). Really interesting idea. I love Vox.exe so much. ;-;
Every Madman Has His Vice by phantasm_png (chibellero)
Summary: “What the fuck do you want, Alastor? Was it not enough to kill me all those years ago? Now, you had to go for the people I loved and the only things I had left in this fucking Hellhole?”
“It was my fault,” Alastor whispers as he approaches Vox slowly, as if he was some sort of wounded animal he didn’t want to scare off. His prey. “Vox, I’m sorry. If I had a chance to redo that night, I would never have hurt you to this extent. I’ll never harm you again.”
“That’s seven years too fucking late, Alastor.”
OR: Seven years ago, instead of Alastor disappearing, it was Vox who left instead.
Notes: I’m so fucking here for this AU. Possessive Alastor, Vox helping with the hotel, Husk is still an Overlord, yessss
Metathesiophobia (Fear of Change) by phantasm_png (chibellero)
Summary: There's a lot that can change in seven years.
But never once had Alastor expected for something like this from his old rival and older friend.
Or, Alastor and Vox start to rekindle their old friendship again after a shocking discovery strikes the deer demon.
Notes: QPR Radiostatic with MtF Vox! Contains a smidge of Staticmoth, but it's in the background and not the focus. Very well written.
surimi and venison by phantasm_png (chibellero)
Summary: A series of short drabbles (500+ words) in an interconnected universe (peep the tags, they're still in hell), centering around Alastor and his new pet fish... shark... television thing. Will (hopefully) update 1-2 times a week. Written as my attempt at a Mermay series.
Notes: Like the summary says, Mermay prompts featuring SharkHybrid!Vox, along with Alastor, who literally saw Vox and decided to make him his pet. Lol.
an arm and a leg, my dear, les yeux d'la tête by phantasm_png (chibellero)
Summary: “I mean, usually when Val gets mad he gets like, super pissy too an’ starts destroyin’ shit ‘round the set and in his clubs, but like, usually Vox can calm him down. Problem is, where the Hell is that guy? I haven’t seen ‘im round the Tower for like, a month or two now. That ain’t normal.”
“What, so you mean he just up and left?”
“No, but like… he hasn’t been seen ‘in public’ for like, two months now. It’s startin’ to get suspicious. Like, I ‘unno if I’m just paranoid or something, but… Vox is like, the fuckin’ face of Hell’s Entertainment District. When he’s not round for a bit, that’s nothing to worry about on its own… but when he’s not round for a bit an’ Val and Velvette are creeping around, looking for his rival…? I mean… the dots are connecting. If Al did something…”
“If Vox was dead, we would know.” OR: Two months ago, Vox went missing. Right now, it seems as if Alastor has something to hide.
Notes: Vox gets attic-wifed and wears a virgin killer sweater. ^_^
we'll go down together in the ashes of our love by phantasm_png (chibellero)
Summary: Glimpses into the Radio Demon's life as he reluctantly navigates parenthood with his co-parenting partner and the demon princess hoisted onto him by the King and Queen of Hell.
Loosely inspired by Spy X Family.
Notes: CUTE! I love domestic Radiostatic.
What Has Been by Tianren
Summary: Vox has never known peace. From being the son of a egocentric cult leader, to being the boyfriend of a self absorbed abuser. Vox has managed to build a pretty sad life for himself. The only spot of sunshine that had ever blessed his existence was when he met an amateur true crime investigative journalist, with a podcast named, Alastor. The man was his only source of unfiltered news and contact to the world outside his father’s compound. But after Vox finally escaped the cult he waited for Alastor. Waited weeks in their assigned meeting spot just to be forgotten. Vox was convinced he’d stopped waiting for Alastor years ago until he meets the man again seven years later at a hotel. What will reconnecting with his past lead to and will it help him escape the hell he’s built for himself?
Takes place in the late 2000s early 2010s
Trigger warning for religious trauma and abuse as major themes of this story. Will add more warnings if they arise as I go on.
Notes: Really interesting human AU concept!
(Fic rec list to be continued)
133 notes · View notes
mochiajclayne · 15 days
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Marineford Law is no question interesting to me because he pulled off a surprise, motherfucker moment and the timing was so good to the point that both pirates and marines least expected it.
Before I proceed with this self-indulgent lawlu meta post, I will go ahead and say that everything that happened between them in Marineford is a catalyst of establishing their connection later on in the future arcs. I am a firm believer that those feelings™️ started to truly bloom in Punk Hazard and went downhill in a good way in Dressrosa.
Long post ahead. Enjoy!
When I was rewatching Marineford arc, the part where Buggy was already carrying an unconscious and injured Luffy and Jimbei, their conversation sparked my interest.
Highlighting the bit where Buggy was confused about Law's verbal tic of using the suffix -ya in referring to anyone, overall doubting him, then asking for Law's name. Don't forget that Law is a little shit (affectionate) so he proceeded to ignore all of those questions to say this:
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Interestingly enough, this part is tricky to translate. I found two translations that closely encapsulate what Law wanted to say here but mind you, and I will sound redundant about this with everything that has got to do with Trafalgar Law's speech patterns: he likes speaking in runarounds, purposely using terms with double meanings and connotations on them, and he's both reticent and cryptic. (I wouldn't say not to trust on his words but don't take them at face value.)
Law described his connection with Luffy as 悪縁 (akuen) which directly translates as evil destiny or connection.
Forgive me for a bit of sidetracking but the kanji used for akuen is the same with Robin's epithet which is "Demon Child" (akuma no ko). To further elaborate, 悪 (aku) means evil--both as intent and violating a moral code. It is also used to refer as the direct opposite of good.
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Going back to 悪縁 (akuen), in true Law fashion, this word doesn't only mean evil destiny or connection. Depending on the context, it can also mean unfortunate love.
(It sounds tragic coming from him, isn't it? If your mind was blown after this part, no worries, I am too. This part gave me so much whiplash when I was researching about it.)
So, considering these two interpretations of 悪縁 (akuen), that begs the question, what is Law's connection with Luffy?
On surface-level, they are enemies as Law said so himself. They're rivals when it comes to One Piece. Their common ground, which is only known among people that Law trusts the most, is sharing the same secret name of D. However, I will take one step ahead and say that they both went through the same tragic fate of losing their loved ones, for being weak and powerless to protect them. They were both involved in circumstances where if they were capable enough, they could've saved the person they loved the most. Doomed by the narrative and subjected to trauma that breaks their heart and spirit should they be lesser men to handle such misery and grief. It is unfortunate, disastrous, and cursed to love fully knowing the fact that the other person could die like the ones before them but these two have the biggest heart.
Of course, Law will never say it directly. Thus, settling for 悪縁 (akuen).
It gets better. He did say 悪縁も縁 (akuen mo en) and 縁 (en) itself means fate or destiny (especially a mysterious force that binds two people together). Additionally, も (mo) is also a particle that is used for emphasis.
The implication, in turn, of what Law said to Buggy can be translated this way: Strawhat-ya and I (will) eventually be enemies, but an evil connection is (the futuristic possibility of Luffy becoming his enemy) is fate (that binds them).
Law made sure to emphasize that their "evil connection" is fate: specifically, that mysterious force brought them together and compelled him to be there, that he was meant to sail to Marineford, and help Luffy escape.
These two translations are the closest that I found to be accurate but it's still scratching the surface of what Law said:
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This entire panel between Ivankov and Law makes it funnier because he clocked him IMMEDIATELY.
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Ivankov asked if he's friends with Luffy to which he replied: no.
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He also emphasized that that he doesn't have any obligation to help him but then went on to say this:
親切 (shinsetsu) means kind, generous, gentle, considerate. 不安 (fuan) refers to anxiety, uneasiness, worry, apprehension. These are surprisingly direct words but of course, Law had to go back and be cryptic again when he followed up with 理屈 (rikutsu), which could mean two things: theory, reason, logic or (unreasonable) argument, excuse.
I think this panel did a good job for translating it.
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Law himself is providing Ivankov here the benefit of the doubt. To reiterate, Ivankov beats him to the punch which makes their entire interaction so funny.
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Again, brilliant translation for directly calling out Law's bullshit. Lmao. Ivankov says 直感 (chokkan) here. It means intuition, instinct, hunch. Please take the next statement that I will say with a grain of salt but "instinctively moving your body" is usually associated with the context of being reckless to the point of directly exposing oneself to danger, consequences be damned, in order to protect someone.
Even Law himself acknowledged that he's not obligated to be there, so why?
Unfortunately, this is the elephant in the room that Law will never address. Several characters even made sure to point out that he helped Luffy two years ago and he purposely dodges that topic.
One thing I can guarantee is that Law never did it to get Luffy to agree for the alliance. Hell, he thought of the alliance after reuniting with Luffy! He adjusted his plans by then. Additionally, he never used the fact that he saved Luffy's life as his bargaining chip and leverage to get him on board the alliance.
Lastly, this is too much for saving a life on a whim, isn't it, Law?
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onyourhyuck · 1 year
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LOWLIFE. | L.DH | PART 4
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— Prologue: “It’s simple, Y/n.” He leans in his lips inches away from your face. “You don’t want to tell me the truth then we’ll have to go through this the hard way.” He smirks and pushed you even more against the wall. “Until you cry…” His voice was soft suddenly as if he was sweet talking you right now but you knew deep down he meant every word.
— Summary: Where your childhood enemy found your diary one day where you wrote all your dirty thoughts about Lee fucking Haechan.
— Genre: Smut. Dub-con. Stalker Haechan. Haechan’s the biggest red flag. Everything is consensual but it’s very dark here. Haechan’s very mean and he doesn’t care a lot. Hair pulling. Dominant Haechan. Pussy slapping. Overstimulation play. Degradation. Slight praise. Jealous and possessive Haechan. Y/n is a masochist. Haechan’s very much the sadist here. Mention of Jaehyun. Mention of Diary. Blackmailing.
— Notes: I am so sorry this took so long to publish. I am on holiday 😭 I have a lot of work to publish still oml.
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Its been weeks since you and Donghyuck made contact in any form. There was no life between the two of you. For some reason you couldn’t face Donghyuck not after what you guys did. Usually you would be okay the next with seeing Donghyuck pretending like nothing happened but not after this one. The situation that went in hand was something else. Not only did he get upset with you. He also said things that made you think a lot.
Made you realise that you might be in this one sided situation all along with feelings that are becoming unhealthy. Whenever your classes were mixing the both of you together neither of you spoke but it seems like you were avoiding him more than he was. At least he made some eye contact with you in some moments when he was talking to you, but you completely aired him and that could only cause him to be taken aback by your actions. Your presence usually was very much attached to him like a hard glue and now you’re a floating water who doesn’t even acknowledge him. What’s happened to you? Donghyuck was left becoming slightly confused and less by the minute he grew upset that you’re the one who’s ignoring him.
Everyone knows that Donghyuck was the one leading you on, even his two friends, Jeno and Jaemin knew he was simply using you. But now that you seem to have a mind of your own, you’re no longer under his command and control it seems like you broke out and you don’t want to have this one-sided thing anymore. Not even the diary makes you feel like you’re threatened by his blackmail. And so Donghyuck was the one feeling gruntingly attacked and frustrated by you and your actions.
It is ironic in a way, you were the one chasing him all those years trying to be his friend, trying to show your love and adoration for him and when he never gave a second thought about it, you disappeared from that view of being a crazy obsessed little girl now. You’re no longer that person, or at least you’re trying to move on from him and his toxic ways. Now Donghyuck feels compelled to chase you without a single thought running in that head of his. It made him think that perhaps he went too far with you? Maybe he did something you didn’t like and that leaves a sour taste and smell in his mouth just by thinking about that. He doesn’t even know why he was worried if he did something that you weren’t comfortable with.
It’s not like he cared before, so why should he care now? Donghyuck really wasn’t understanding himself and his stupid thoughts. He only had you on his brain nowadays ever since you keep on avoiding and dodging him wherever he goes. Even if he purposely tried to cross paths with you somehow, you turn your back to him and go the other way. What kind of person does that?
He feels some type of hatred for you, but not the hatred you’re thinking. He hates that you’re making him feel this many things he shouldn’t even be feeling. Was this guilt? Was this some sort of joke you’re doing this to him? He feels hurt. Donghyuck had never been the type of guy to feel bothered when he’s ignored he goes about his day and thinks it is what it is.
But when you’re doing this it’s difficult. He can’t move past this, so he wants to do something about it.
You’re listening to music as you’re walking past the school corridors now. You wore your usual school uniform and your hair was in a little low bun today. You could’ve be bothered doing a fancy hairstyle today and leaving it down wasn’t really fitting your mood right now so you decided to do an up do and just go about your day, move on, and as you’re listening to your playlist you go on the phone to press shuffle so another song can play on your headphones; as your fingers gently click the screen, you feel yourself bump shoulders with someone and your eyes widen as you look at the tall figure. He was handsomely dressed neatly and he looks very smart and kind. He had light coloured hair and pale skin, he looks like an upperclassman.
Your eyes widen ever so lightly realising you bumped into him and you grew embarrassed so you only bow your head ready to say something complicated because your voice was coming out like a stuttering mess. “I’m s-so sorry oh my god are you okay? You’re not hurt right…” your voice trails off at the end going quiet because you’re busy checking for any signs of injuries the older boy might have, but he lets out a soft chuckle and shakes his head.
You can’t change the feeling of being validated because the boy was asking how are you, he was quite bigger than you, and he was worried you might’ve broke your shoulder or something which he didn’t want happening.
“It’s okay, no worries, really.” He said and then looks at you up and down checking your body from just a little moment to check for any injuries too. “You’re not hurt right? I can take you to the nurse infirmary if you’d like.” He offers gently and you can’t help but smile ear to ear. No one has ever been this kind to you and even offered to take you to the nurse to get you checked out. He seems very polite— and gentlemen like. You somehow feel your heart skipping many beats at the handsome boy.
The boy can’t help but feel like your smile was surpassingly cute. You seem like a young innocent girl who doesn’t have many friends but he liked that considering you were so kind and emphatic. He likes your attitude especially how kindly you’re giving your time to check on him too.
You look down at your body and give him a soft approving nod. “I’m fine. Good as new still.” You tell him and he was quite happy about that. “What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve recognised you.” He was a senior so it’s quite known for him to know other juniors in the school however he has never ran into you and that’s probably because you prefer being a shadow. You don’t really like speaking to people in school, unless you have to. You don’t really like interacting if you’re being honest.
You’re always the quiet girl and you don’t mind that. You prefer it being that way since it’s easier to be quiet than to deal with people all the time. You learned that the hard way. Nonetheless Jaehyun seems pretty cool and you can’t help but feel yourself introducing to him.
“Y/n. I’m in Class 3E…” You murmur as you turn your eyes around the class door number in the distance and Jaehyun lets out a soft ‘ahhh’ as he now knows you’re a junior. His junior more like. “It’s nice to meet you Y/n. You’ve got a pretty name. I’m Jung Jaehyun.” His hand comes forward and you stare at it for a moment and you can’t help but smile if anything you were smitten over Jaehyun’s friendly demure he makes you feel safe.
And it certainly boosted up your low and tired mood. You shake his hand softly and then the hands let go unattaching themselves as they share a momentarily contact. Jaehyun smiles. “Y/n do you want to exchange socials? I think we get along quite well.” He beams and your face grew red with blush.
He wants to exchange your socials? He really said he wants to get to know you more and you’re just so bewildered. No one has ever asked for your socials before.
“I- oh yes okay, we can exchange socials I’d love to.” You say to him quickly as he was waiting for your time you seemed to be dazed in a way and he found that pausing reaction to be the cutest. So now your socials were exchanged when Jaehyun added your account and he smiles proudly. He was glad you wanted to give him your hand.
It just makes his heart ponder. You were very cute and you seem quite friendly and upbeat. Not many juniors he meets are like you. So he thought this might be fate he bumped into you today. You really cheered up his mood a lot.
And he cheered up your mood too it seems.
From the far on end distance would stand Donghyuck with a very glaring and dark expression almost like a dark cloud was over his head raining down on him and striking a blighted lighting down angrily. Hands tucked in front pockets as you and Jaehyun were walking now side by side and speaking. The way he hears your echoing laugh really bugs him and he wants to make it stop. Why was this bothering him so much more? He can understand you if you’re ignoring him and not speaking to anyone but if you’re ignoring him and now SPEAKING to someone he feels completely burned down like he was on fire, bathing in his anger.
Jaemin whistles as he knew his friends was enraged to the fullest and he enjoys seeing Donghyuck so upset. He told him before, that you were a keeper and you were only going to keep attracting men towards yourself. Because let’s be honest here, Jaemin and the other boys found you extremely pretty but you’re also very rare. You look innocent, you have this very doe-like energy about you, but deep down you’re nothing like that and that’s exactly what makes people like them so interested in you. They like that you’re coming out with two different sides to yourself.
He sighs patting Donghyuck’s shoulder. “Wow you got dumped by your pet.” The boy glared at his friend and slapped his hand away. “I didn’t get dumped.” He retorts back with a emphasised hiss. “She will come back crying to me. Watch her do that.” He said trying to be convincing but now it’s been a few days almost a week since you’ve been avoiding him; Jaemin and Jeno were really set on the idea that you’re not gonna come back anytime soon.
However his friends would not mention anything back and instead let Donghyuck huff in his own anger boiling over like an overflowing bathtub full of scorching water. He feels so much pressure in his head the fact you’re speaking to other guys as well now but you’re not speaking to him? It just hurts him knowing you’re not in his control and now all he wants is to have you back, being devoted to him.
“I will make you regret this Y/n.” He told himself. He vows to make you come back on your knees begging for forgiveness to spare you some if he can find any.
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You’re walking down the street not doing particularly much except being on your phone scrolling. You press on the Spotify icon and play your playlist that you spend your dedicated time making for yourself whenever you leave the house or go to school. You can’t go anywhere without listening to music, it’s like your life is based on around this playlist everywhere you go now and you’re not complaining. You have quite good music taste. Nonetheless you now make your way looking over the streets seeing cars driving past. It seems to be a traffic today. It’s raining quite badly too, it’s been gloomy these past days, you can’t help but think it’s to do with your mood too. Because now the weather is depressed and ever since you stopped communicating with Donghyuck, avoiding him at all costs, the weather goes sour. You try not to paint these coincidences to your situation. It might make you even more hung up on the idea that your silent treatment is too far. But you can’t just ignore what he said to you.
The words haunt you forever, even till now this day every night you’re hearing him repeat it to you like a religious mantra you couldn’t push out your brain. “You’re nothing but entertainment for me you do know that? The only reason I’m keeping you around is for your body.” He said those words to you, those horrible words that share nothing but your grief and your own one sided thoughts out down the drain. You wouldn’t believe him at first but you cannot shake the feeling these words have you.
You try your best to move on. But it’s like half of his heart is yours nowadays you feel not alive without him. You try to tell yourself time is the best healer, you need time apart, you need to move on and forget him already.
At least that’s your plan.
You break your own thoughts overtaking your reality and when you bring yourself forward snapping out of all overthinking you do you realise a car honking at you all this time. You look at them with a nervous apologetic smile and cross the road. They seemed quite upset with you, you didn’t realise they were making time to have you cross over, you got stuck in your own head: again. You want to sigh how much your own thoughts were drugged by this situation. You try not to think anymore. It’s bad enough that you stood there keeping a car waiting for you to snap back to the real moment.
Crossed over now, you walk down the another long road leading the neighbourhood opening. You see a bunch of houses similar to yours. The neighbourhood is quite similar in all designs the house provide. You couldn’t help but shake the feeling of the rain dropping down on your forehead now, against your glasses. You curse and take your glasses off wiping the water droppings by the hem of your sweater. “Great it’s raining…” you mutter at the horrible weather. You decide to put your bag over your head and start walking in the rain. Your school uniform wasn’t warm enough for this bad weather.
It’s meant to be near-summer why is it so rainy? You beg the rain stops but it seems to be getting worse now and you couldn’t help but wonder if this was some sort of accident happening to you. You listen to the heavy racket the rain makes against your cute leather backpack you bring to school, it was heavy and it starts to rattle like a glass on top of a washing machine when it’s washing a bunch of clothes in circulation.
The wind was blowing hard working with the ridiculous weather conditions. You swore the forecast is never correct. You start to think there is no point watching it if it is never correct about the weather throughout the day.
The downpour was so heavy that to be caught by surprise by it meant being drenched to the skin. Soaking every fabric to the skin like it was a piece parting of your body. Every droplet of water coming down on your beautiful hair submerges to your roots, wetting it, curling every strand of hair up. The gravity was thick and the petrichor smell of the rain surrounding the trees and the flowers fills your nostrils like the heavenly earth filling the air. The weather was a rollercoaster you couldn’t ride without the risk of becoming drowned into the ocean like a tsunami engulfs everything in the same way. It was so bad that you have no choice but to continue walking and accept this weather to your forsaken day and deal with it. You had to suck it up, and pray you don’t get sick in the process. You can’t help but admire how the cars driving on the road wipe the windowsill while they drive, or the houses getting wet and dirty by the heavy rainstorm.
The eerie feeling brushes down your spine. It’s like someone was watching you now that you made your way further you see your house nearby but now the, the moment your hips turn round to your side of the neighbourhood you live at. You feel two pairs of eyes on you. It was a weird thought that ran to your head. Why do you feel like you’re being followed?
It might be your paranoia, because it’s raining, today was a bad day. You feel quite gloomy too.
But the feeling was too strong to ignore. You turn around and look around the distance. You see zero people and a few cars driving past the road down. You don’t see anyone, but you swore you felt someone behind you watching you specifically. Maybe you felt like you were followed from the start but now you’re starting to grasp that.
You feel your throat going dry. “It’s probably nothing…” you whisper checking around with your eyes again just to out some reassurance to yourself.
Your feet turn around the heels and now your eyes widen as you were met with a dark gaze, a taller boy towering over you completely and you feel your skin growing deathly pale. Why have your legs gone completely numb at the sight of the boy you dread and love at the same time? Why was your brain half flight have fight? And why was your lips open wide but nothing coming out?
It turns out the creepy feeling of being stalked wasn’t so untrue afterall. You were followed all along by Donghyuck. From the moment school has ended he’s been travelling in your shadows and you were a fool to not even realise until your eyes took the surroundings in. Donghyuck knew you wouldn’t be able to notice him because of your earbuds in and that music of yours kept you busy for half a while. It’s a shame though, your priceless reaction wasn’t enough for him. Usually your silence was something he encourages.
But not today. Today he wants to hear you very much scream.
Donghyuck standing with a dark hood up covering most of his face but from where you stood and where your height was at you could see the dark grey cold eyes of his gazing into yours like it was your last warning. You might need a miracle to escape him now, you think to yourself. The feeling of your stomach turning and getting a cramp drags your senses to heighten maximum. He leans down whispering, crowing at your dumbfounded eyes and mouth wide agape like you were so shocked to see him standing right there in front of you. “What’s wrong Specs, got no where to run off to now?” Donghyuck mocks you down right back to your knees.
Your eyebrows rose at each insult he throws at you and you fiddle with your fingertips, the heavy rain covers your palms that dropped to your sides and your feet stopped working. You try to make yourself run, you try to do anything but you couldn’t do anything even if you tried your body stopped functioning. You wonder if it’s fear or if it’s excitement.
“D-Donghyuck… what are you… did you follow me h-here?” You want to curse. You want to be told to get your shit together but you can’t.
The sound of your voice aroused Donghyuck with the most intense and propounding cruelty to do to you. It’s the way your sweet voice breaks half way each word. You drag on your words at emphasis of your own fear he injects inside your body. Donghyuck very much loves the effect he has on you by just standing in front of your eye sight view. He wonders, if you get so stuck by watching him, what will you be like when he gets his hands on you finally after so freaking long?
You’ve been ignoring him for too long. Donghyuck wants to teach you a lesson on what happens when you ignore him. And it’s not going to be a very kind lesson. He ran out of kindness for you a while ago. “Clever girl.” He said, even though it’s a praise, it was a condescending comment that wasn’t a true meaningful compliment to you. Donghyuck trails forward grabbing your wrist that’s soaking with the rain, letting drops of rain on the ground by your cold and red fingertips. He spoke with a devilish smile. “I believe we have things to discuss, Y/n.”
You’re about to protest but the minute he saw you getting ready to say many things along the lines of saying no to him he just starts dragging you without giving you any chance to reject this moment away. Donghyuck can’t handle another moment of you ignoring him and he’s about to show you why you can’t do this to him. He was meant to be the sole reason of your affection and obsession, and he won’t let some stupid senior in upper class take that away from him.
You are meant to be his and only his. Donghyuck doesn’t like sharing what is his with someone who be doesn’t like. And even if he liked Jaehyun a little bit he wouldn’t of given you to someone like him anyways.
Usually Donghyuck wouldn’t be like this with you. He could care less about who you get and speak with. But now it’s different. Something within him changed and the boy was no longer something you could understand, he can’t even understand himself. You found yourself getting pushed inside Donghyuck’s front door to his house which wasn’t too far away from your neighbourhood. Either way you didn’t want to be in his house. The last time you were here you did things you want to forget. It just makes your stomach remember the things you guy do. The things he did to your body which is hard to forget.
You turn to the door that shut when he walks inside closing it behind. You gulp taking a step backwards. The both of you are soaked from your head to toes. Donghyuck can see your wet eyelashes, he found them more beautiful than before, and it was angering him that he was admiring your face that he couldn’t even see due to you ignoring him so long. It felt like a relief washed over his body when he finally saw your face. He found it more beautiful than last time. Maybe you were always this beautiful, but he never quite took notice until now.
And it’s killing him. He’s viewing you differently.
Donghyuck doesn’t understand where it all changed. When it all changed. Why it all changed.
“Donghyuck I don’t want to… I don’t want to speak to you.” You finally tell him when the courage in your heart and body was found. You’re even surprised you have the guts to tell Donghyuck this. What surprised you even more is that the boy wasn’t responding. Was he admiring you? You thought it was strange how quiet he is while facing you with a different pair of eyes watching you from another point of view low. You can’t help and shake this weird change.
Nonetheless you were now pressed against a wall with your wet clothes. The school backpack belonging to you fell somewhere on the ground. It was wet, every part of you was wet actually and his face shivering from how cold your bodies were when the rain was pouring down outside on you. “I think you’re lying Y/n.” Donghyuck spoke in a very low but soft voice as his hand caressed down your jawline and to your chin. You pull your face away trying to escape all those little touches he does to try and hypnotise you.
You feel his hot breath and low voice so irresistible to you that it is hard to ignore. You’re surprised you have even this much restrain in yourself because you feel quite weak whenever it comes to him. Even Donghyuck was now amused by your response. It is very different now. He’s enjoying your playing hard to get persona now.
He smirks seeing you completely dodge the touch his hands made against your soft beautiful skin on your face. “You don’t need to lie to me… let’s stop this push and pull game alright, before it gets messy.” He warns you deeply now.
Although Donghyuck was using his sweet voice on you. You feel so crushed by this and you narrow your eyes at the boy in front of you. He was like a shadow in front of you. So unpredictable. So untouchable and absolutely maddening to you and your self consciousness.
He poisons you and every right decision. He makes you do the wrong choices but they feel so right all the time. You can’t shake this feeling when you’re feeling your cherish able heart beat to every thing Donghyuck does to you. It’s like your heart feels so much more alive, when you are around him.
You feel your teeth stick together as you spoke out to him once again, you heard him say this, that you’re lying about not wanting to speak to him. He wasn’t wrong. But you can’t do this cycle with him, the words he said to you haunt the back of your mind up until now. “I am not lying, Donghyuck, I don’t want to speak to you.” You tell the boy in front of you. Donghyuck let’s out a quiet low snicker. “Oh yeah?” He said leaning down to your face. He can see a reflection of himself become enlarge in your wet glasses.
He gentle smirks. He found this new side of you to be quite entertaining. Donghyuck can’t help but think he’s going to have fun getting the truth out of you now. “I guess we will be here for a while now.” You heard him suggest.
“What?” Your innocent voice lets out quietly in the silence and dark hallway as your back is pressing on like a cement statue browsing on the wall against it while Donghyuck is a towering figure watching you with his glowing enticing eyes. Watching like a predator found a new sign of prey they cannot let go off. He finally found you again all to himself — he won’t stop now. Not now that you’re looking so beautiful with your fearful expression he sees while your glasses and your wet curls are there enchanting him. He must say he was a fool for not realising how pretty you look now.
It seems like you are confused. Donghyuck’s voice trails like an incoming train ready to take a roll ahead on the railway tracks ahead. It hit you like a hard brick when he goes to explain exactly the tiny little steps he will do now. “It’s simple, Y/n.” He leans in his lips inches away from your face. “You don’t want to tell me the truth then we’ll have to go through this the hard way.” He smirks and pushed you even more against the wall. “Until you cry…” His voice was soft suddenly as if he was sweet talking you right now but you knew deep down he meant every word.
You held your breath in when Donghyuck engulfs you into a passionate kiss that seems so loving at first. You were shocked he could kiss you in such a way. He was possible of kissing and treating you so nicely even if it was for a moment you feel yourself forgetting this was Donghyuck with the way he kissed you. When your lips touched his it felt so foreign. He made sure to take his time with you but at the same time there was hints of impatience and quickness. It was sweet, but dangerous at the same time. It’s like he wants your love, he was your love on him and only him. But you couldn’t help yourself but lean your head against the wall as Donghyuck’s hands brace themselves on your jawline holding it. The thumbs on the side press on your cheeks opening your mouth a little more access so he can slip inside his hungry tongue, ready to explore you in another hundred different ways.
Your thoughts all consist of many things such as: ‘This isn’t Donghyuck,’ or ‘Who was this boy?’ And you wonder the same thing. Donghyuck seems like a different person now and the mayhems he was brewing were over the top of the kiss when he pressed in deeply against your lips now. He made sure to kiss you so deeply your breath was sucked out of your body and you were feeling weak enough for your knees to tremble where you stood pressed latching on the wall that he made you go on. Donghyuck closed his eyes tight savouring his lips on yours. It was like a longing for him.
He loves hearing your little moans when he starts to lower his lips on your bottom lip pulling it apart lightly and then sucking on the exposed skin. He leaves a reddish love bite on it when the process was over and you groan closing your eyes as your head leans back against the wall. Donghyuck shifts the attention away from your mouth and now on your neck. The smell of your curly wet hair reminds him of the earthly rain outside, he didn’t hate it on you, the petrichor smell. Donghyuck’s tongue crawls down your skin on your neck, pressing wet kisses on it now. You feel your entire body going into a frenzy of shivers and pleasure. “Tell me you want more?” Donghyuck smirks as he still keeps his goal in mind.
You clench your eyes tight. “No.” You firmly told and Donghyuck smirks liking that you didn’t give in at all. Usually you wouldn’t waste a moment. But now you, you weren’t head over heels rushing in completely to him. Donghyuck was left thinking if you were doing this because of that senior earlier, Jaehyun, it fills him with some bad vibes from you. It would be a problem if you fell for someone that wasn’t him.
“Why?” He croaks against your neck now as he lifts his head up facing you with a dark glare. “Why, Y/n?” He asked once again with a snarl. You furrow your eyebrows, as you remember what happened the last time. You had the urge to tell him.
But you couldn’t bring yourself to explain why. You wonder if he would even care about it. And so you would rather stay with your own thoughts and not put the energy and effort to tell Donghyuck.
Donghyuck heard your lack of response and so, he starts to make scenarios up. He will know by your reactions if it was true or not anyways. He can read you like an open book when he catches you red handed. “It’s because of that senior isn’t it?” He comes closer to your face. “Jaehyun, right?” Your eyes brush against his now that he came closer saying Jaehyun’s name.
You furrow at the words as you’re now realising that Donghyuck was jealous. You couldn’t believe it. He was. Someone who would never be jealous was now jealous when it came to you and it sends your heart into some sort of pride overload.
“You’re jealous?” You say back with your eyebrows moving up on your forehead. Donghyuck glares at you. “I am not.” He said gritting his teeth at you. You push back with your words now. “You are. How did you know Jaehyun and I are friends?” You blurt out and Donghyuck looks down at you pulling on your hair gently, he tugs it and moves you around on the wall.
“I saw you.” He said simply and you grunt against the hair pull letting out a soft wince. You look up at Donghyuck, he was jealous, you saw it when his eyes tremble as you questioned him earlier. “You’re getting too comfortable thinking you can do and say what you want, Y/n, i would never get jealous.” He grits his teeth once again. “And even if I did get jealous, I have every right to.” He said brushing the free hand against your cheek. “Because you’re mine, no one else’s.” He seers in a rather greedy way. You never seen him like this before.
It didn’t take a moment for Donghyuck to lift your skirt. Instead of taking all your clothes he only rolled up your skirt taking a look at your black panties and he smirks watching your cheeks go red as he looks up at your eyes. He brushed over his hand. The clothed clit touching the very thin fingertips and you let out a little bit of a wince and a nudge. He saw you react quite well and he happens to enjoy seeing the struggling expression when he cups your area again now fully. “This pussy is mine, not Jaehyun’s, Y/n.” He reminds you again as he slips off your panties. You weren’t even aware of how cold you are when the fabric leaves your body dripping to your ankles and the way his cold fingers insert themselves to your insides so well — it shocks you deeply.
“Cold… cold…! Donghyuck.” You yelp and he saw your eyes widen. Donghyuck’s eyes up watching them dilate when he pushed the fingers of his within your walls as he smirks ear to ear. The movements became frequent leaving your soaking walls to squeeze and squeak. Donghyuck is loving the sounds you make, similar to ocean waves, they go back and forth in his control movements. He likes being in charge of your body, a lot more than you realise. You’re against the wall with your leg up on the side as you’re getting your walls pressed and stretched out, you’re loving how he feels so deep within you. The idea of his cock being this deep or even more drives you insane. He whispers. “Admit it. You wanted me to come to you like this.”
“L-like what? Admit what.” You said back between your voices changing the sounds as the way you’re being used against the walls like this. It strikes your body with many different layers of emotions you cannot process all at once. Donghyuck smirks as he slowly leans in, keeping the two fingers now deeply buried in your cunt wet dropping like strings of thin and thick slime. He watches your juices fall down resembling the heavy rain outside on his fingers and down your thighs and the floor in his house. “Admit that you wanted me to reach out to you and speak to you first. Admit that you wanted me to get jealous when you spoke to Jaehyun today.” He stares into your eyes deeply serious. He spoke with full attention on you. He darkly slants to you. “Admit you wanted me to say sorry first, Y/n.”
Your body reacts to each syllable and words he spoke to you before your voice and mouth could even answer Donghyuck. Your walls clench and your juices pour out making his eyes go darker shades of brown as he watches the sight of light happen in front of him. He can’t help but think to himself that he will never ever get tired of seeing you orgasm so much over his hand like this. As you orgasmed you held in your last bit and Donghyuck smirks seeing you try to shorten your orgasm as it’s become too much all at once. The boy brushed his hand and slaps the top of your swollen clit. Your pussy flinches in the process and your orgasm snaps fully and you release entirely now that he slaps your pussy for a good two seconds. It didn’t take long for you to let go fully.
You murmur out in broken moans in all desperation now as he slaps your centre completely down below you shake. “Y-yes! I admit it! I- I wanted you to say sorry… a-and i wanted you to approach me…” you let out a sigh as he stops taking another glance at your reddish cheeks and your eyes full of overflowing pleasure, he smirks again, leaning in. “And?” He adds softly in a dark powerful and controlling tone.
Your eyes trembling meet his. “And… I wanted you to get jealous…” you admit softly as you look down at the mess you made on his hands. Donghyuck tauntingly pressed his fingers against your mouth making you taste yourself on your own face. “Clever girl.” He praised you once again. “So you do know how to listen after all…” he trails carefully at you.
“Legs up sweetheart. I’m not done with you yet.” Donghyuck goes grabbing your legs and needing you to cooperate you do exactly that weakly pushing yourself more on the wall and wrapping your legs round the waist. He unbuckled the clothes down to his ankles and looks down as his long harden length coming out instantly, springs up, your eyes focus on the way his tip getting sucked inside your wall makes you groan by how you’re watching him enter you so well. You never knew you could get returned to such a pleasuring moment. You told yourself you won’t do this again. But you lied and now you won’t even listen to your previous statements because you’re enjoying the way Donghyuck was rutting inside you like you’re nothing but something to be used of his own pleasures. He treats you with so much roughness but at the same time, something was different.
He was more possessive of you now. He was much more sweet about this too. He took his time with you here and you feel yourself getting overstimulated the more this continues. He held your hands against the wall as he rocks to your inner core. Your eye contact was made multiple times he even dazed into your eyes only to lean in to give you a deeply pleasing kiss. You weren’t sure what made him so much more expressive in this moment. He wouldn’t even express himself before, but now?
The more this went on Donghyuck wanted to hear specific words coming from your own mouth with your very own voice. He looks at you getting close to your climax and he was coming close too however he didn’t care about his own orgasm for once.
For once he cares about what you’re going to say when he suddenly stops moving and your orgasm was ticking at the door. You were literally itching to orgasm and you let out a frustrated sigh when your eyes faze over at Donghyuck.
You were confused as to why he stopped to torture you. Donghyuck stares deeply and your confusion was cleared up when he speaks now, revealing what exactly he wants from you.
“Maybe you should call Jaehyun to help you cum.” Donghyuck adds in a mean tone.
Your eyes widen at such a beckoning demanding answer he gave you. You panic and see him pulling back but your legs wrapped around his waist stop him from being able to leave your body completely alone. You grab his clothes with your hands now desperately shaking your head as you look like you’re about to cry.
He was glad to see this reaction. Tears. He always loved seeing you cry because of him, and it makes him proud.
Donghyuck laughs seeing your reaction a little darkly. “Why are you crying, Y/n? Do you feel what I felt now when i saw you and Jaehyun speaking but you refused to talk to me for so long?” He mockingly said to you and you close your eyes tightly as the tears fell down your cheeks. “I-I’m sorry please, please don’t leave me here, I want to cum so bad I wanna cum.” You blabber on so much he can see you’re losing your mind in the process.
“Tell me why you ignored me.” Donghyuck darkly asked you once again as he brushed his fingers around your body. You are so itching for your orgasm you can’t even get it anymore because he won’t move until you answer his questions.
You huff out. “Because this whole thing is one sided. You might think I’m just crazy obsessed with you but I love you…”
It feels weird to say it out loud. You never really said the three words to him before. The simple word ‘I love you’ is pretty much a new thing to him and you now and when you said those, Donghyuck’s eyes widen and lit up as he watches you.
“You love me?” Donghyuck treads carefully against your neck planting a few kisses on your skin. They cause you to shudder a little wave of electricity down your spine. “Oh Y/n… you think this is one sided?” He laughs a little now.
He brought his face and held your hands on your hips now pushing you deeper in causing you to let out a longevity of your moan echoing through the walls. Enough to even make his neighbours hear your cries and your moans mixing together like a heavenly carpet tapestry on the wall.
“There’s nothing one-sided about this in the beginning.” Donghyuck begins, now forcing a thrust inside you once. “Wanna know why?” He croaks with a little groan. You murmur a silent sigh into your palm as your eyes widen watching the ceiling get bigger with the first long thrust he gave inside. “Because I loved you first, from the very beginning since we were children, and when I left you…” He smirks watching your eyes widen in confusion as he reveals that all along he’s loved you, but then he left you alone so suddenly when he realised he loved you. You couldn’t shake that imagination anymore and you shake your head not believing him.
Donghyuck grins satisfied by your respond. “Not believing me?” He says with a short smirk. “Why do you think i’m here apologising for my actions here?” He stated and you open your mouth with a pant as he keep on thrusting your body into the wall you are pressed upon. “Y-you… loved me all along?” You said with shock running on your voice, wild and confused.
The bodies you pressed one another your orgasm snaps at the end and he can feel your juices pour around his cock pushing inside your pussy. He feels himself releasing now from his twitching tip all the muscles contract and he feels a long groan stringing out by his beautiful honey voice. He pressed his head against your shoulder grabbing your hips right as Donghyuck was dizzy from the large orgasm you made him get. Your body feels so amazing it creates a side effect for him.
“Y/n…” Donghyuck begins with a soft sigh. He pants as he raised his head up meeting yours again. “I’ll ask you once again, only one last time.” He says watching you with a pair of softer eyes.
You focus your all efforts on your eyes watching him with a clear vision. Donghyuck sees you are listening now and he clears his mind as he asked the final question.
“Do you still love a Lowlife like me?”
You see him waiting for your answer as if his life depends on it and now you give him a slow nod. You didn’t change your mind on Donghyuck, and now that he even reveals he left you because of his deep feelings for you, it makes your heart flutter. He was horrible all along to make sure you never knew how he feels. But little further in the end he was the one falling for you even more.
“Yes…” you say with your voice. Donghyuck’s ears perk up as you answer him vocally too and he leans closer kissing your lips only for a short moment before pulling away. He held on to your thighs you wrapped around his body.
He loves the taste of you, who seems to be a biggest Lowlife he knows now, for loving him all along too.
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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating and copyrighting my work thank youu! Follow me for more updates it helps a girl out. <3
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mylonelydreaming · 4 months
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For me, Link being "unhealthily obsessed with Zelda and finding her to the point Ganondorf is a footnote" isn't something that I think is "bad" at all, but precisely what makes this version of him remotely interesting (to me) when Nintendo is otherwise so adamant about keeping him a stoic knight most of the time.
It adds a different layer to him, turns him from this perfect, bland stoic boy into someone who only outwardly appears that way, appears like he has everything together, but is in fact flawed inside and a little broken from what has happened to him. A little off. That makes him much more interesting to me. It gives him a major character flaw that can be exploited by his enemies, and what do you know, Ganondorf and the Yiga Clan do exactly that (they even remark on what good bait she makes).
I also find it interesting to think about when he became this way. Was it the years he spent with her in-between games? Was it well before that, when he was aimlessly chasing that "beautiful voice" even before he remembered who he was? Was it some point before the Calamity? Did he become a knight in the first place not merely to follow his father's footsteps, but to one day protect her? I find this compelling to think about. Is making a specific person your life's purpose unhealthy in real life? Yes. It's also very interesting in a story.
And also on that note, isn't him becoming at least a little too obsessed with her a completely natural thing to happen?
For me, if you take away Link's (yes, I'll admit, unhealthy although I kind of like that), obsession with Zelda, then all that is left is the exact ways that people who hate not only zelink but Link himself describe him as all the time: A robot who feels nothing but duty.
And sorry, but I just find that very boring. Dull. Unexciting. I also, then, can't see why on earth Zelda would have feelings for Link if she's just a duty to him and her acts of affection, like sewing him a new tunic, are never returned. Frankly, I think she deserves a lot better than that, to have her feelings reciprocated and a happy ending after all that she's been through.
And to be honest, why would any writer make her feelings unreciprocated when she's basically the main focus of these two games? How does that make any sense? I also doubt any professional game dev working on a deadline would waste precious time writing and coding dialogue about it into the games if it supposedly wasn't meant to mean anything? I honestly rather dislike people brushing off things like Kass's song, because it ignores that it was purposefully written by the game's creators to tell the player something. It not only feels disrespectful to whoever wrote it, but ignores an extremely common convention of video games. I don't think it's really very fair to call it "bad writing" simply because it delivers the information like a video game and not like other visual mediums would have. Video games have always demanded the player to read things, investigate and read between the lines. Especially so when they are more focused on gameplay, which is exactly where Nintendo's focus lies.
And when it comes to "it should have been more obviously shown", well, look how people complain even when it's subtle? If you're someone who hates it, why complain about the romance not being overly blatant? Isn't that good? I mean, clearly an even bigger fit about it would have been thrown if they had been even more obvious, so personally, I think that the way Nintendo went about it was perfectly fine.
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sonicjustbecause · 2 months
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Shadow incarnations
My three favourites
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Maekawa's (especially SA2)
Original Shadow, unlike the others, was just cool. He didn't try. He was aware of this but he didn't try to be cool. Being cool came natural from him. Probably the only incarnation who was able to lie (I don't remember him lying outside SA2), despite this, the most genuine Shadow of all, because he just acted the way he felt like at the moment, like the kid he was, and just like Sonic does. Sulking? Having fun? Sending death treat? Celebrate his victories? Fist bumping? He just did all.
Is also true that his fleshed out personality was all compressed in a tiny space of 9 hours, because he was meant to die, so you had to slowly know him, and is beautiful how it gets unfolded. First you judged him wrongly (through hero story), then play with him, learning about his past and getting to love him (This Shadow is shown to be friendly in the latest part of the game when he finally opens up and actually not much an introvert. In all games written by Maekawa, he is always hanging on with somebody, usually Rouge but also Knuckles and Blaze in Sonic and the Black Knight, and Maria in Sonic Adventure 2. He is just quiet and reserved), then, when happiness is finally handy, he dies. Is tragic.
If Sonic is like the wind, Shadow is like water. In Italy, subtle personality like his are compared to water. Water is calming and serene on surface, but it hides dangers in the depths, is dark and it can suddenly become dangerous. That's Shadow. He is subdued and never gets angry, the dangers are always below the surface. He is dangerous because he is insane due to his traumatic past, his loneliness, his intense sadness and his suicidal tendencies. Unfortunately he doesn't want to die alone, he wants to bring the whole world with him. All of this can be spiced up by his stubborn and melancholy nature that makes the whole thing more explosive. He's very dark and scary (In current -edgelord - characterization, where he is presented as always angry, he is less intimidating. Simply because too much is too much, for the same reason Sonic's glares are way more effective than Shadow's because unusual).
Original Shadow is calm, intelligent, he might be a bit of a science fanatic. In his description of the Eclipse cannon, he resemble the most classic of the mad scientist villain, including some Mr.Burns postures with his hands, his voice was lively.
He's not an actual villain. Before the tragedies of his past he had a gentle and caring nature. But then his family was destroyed and he survived, he was feared, betrayed, brainwashed, captured, sealed. He became mistrustful, cynical, apparently cold, showing his qualities only to his closest friends.
And an interesting detail there, he never opened up to Rouge in SA2. He opened up to Sonic and Amy.
Unlike many future incarnation, the original Shadow was not particularly violent. He greatly favored brain power, leaving brute force for emergencies. Thinking about the games of that period, he virtually spared all his foes, or at least the very same foes Sonic would have spared and took down foes that Sonic also would have take down.
He is soft spoken and quiet. I especially love his VA of that time, David Humphrey, smoother juvenile and engaging, even cute voice. He shows a large range of emotions and attitude on Shadow. Jason was not bad either.
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Archie (Universe)
The most expressive Shadow. (I should talk about the problems in Sonic's expressions and where I think they come from) more gruff compared to the original Shadow, aloof and more violent, but also very soft with his friends. I think is based on Adventure Shadow.
Enemies such as Eclipse and Metal Sonic help to reveal many aspect of his personality that Shadow himself might not be fully aware about.
Eclipse, bad design yet compelling and great personality, is his main foe. He shows how dangerous and ruthless Shadow can be when he gets serious/focused. Despite being a villain Eclipse cares sincerely for his friends and family and tries the diplomatic way with Shadow, similar to what an hero would do, with no success.
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Metal Sonic instead helped to show Shadow's lack of free will. Yes, Shadow can still be compared with water there too. Unlike the wind that is boundless (and Sonic with his total freedom), water is always contained in some way (dams, bottles etc), controlled and follows a fixed path. When not following the path it can get destructive. If Shadow is not contained, he can cause mass destruction (everything about him is controlled, his path, the rings he wears to control his power, even his will). He is like an organic android, made in flesh instead of metal, his intelligence is AI, programmed twice by a human. But he has a heart, for this he suffers. A lot.
I think Shadow's peculiar speech pattern also shows his artificial nature.
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Prime
Is one of the less gloomy versions of Shadow. I would say in Sonic Prime, Shadow is healing. He is mentally strong and more self confident. He still doesn't trust people but he is hopeful for the future. His strenght also helps Sonic to not sink (metaphorically).
Like Sonic, he has a lot of flaws and he is well aware of them. Unlike Sonic, he has a better attention span and has a better control on himself (he sighs a lot when upset or uneasy and this helps him to calm down).
He is outspoken with Sonic as well as he is awkward and shy toward strangers and extremely introverted. He is also so elusive at the point of feeling like some sort of mystical creature. Half of the times is not his fault.
He can be playful, mischievous and knows how to have fun.
The VA is Ian Hanlin. His voice is deeper than David's but is still youthful and soft.
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melestasflight · 1 year
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In the Silmarillion fandom, we enjoy grabbing the trope of “Nolofinwëan recklessness” and running wild with it. 
The most common victims of this are Fingon the Rash Prince and Fingolfin the Impulsive King, who rushes into suicidal combat. Both father and son daring death within Morgoth’s domain. 
It’s fun to write and exciting to imagine, no doubt, but I’d like to offer a different take. In fact, what makes Fingon and Fingolfin (and the rest of that family) compelling to me is their patience and endurance.
Yes, I’m aware Fingon rushes to battle at Alqualondë, but that’s a world-altering event. The light of the world has literally gone out, murder has happened in Valinor, Finwë is dead. Most of the Noldor are up on their feet and ready to depart. Everyone is rushing.
But this is not always the case with Fingon. Most significantly, the rescue of Maedhros is NOT an impulsive decision. The published Silmarillion offers no timeline on this, but in The Grey Annals, five entire years pass between the arrival of Fingolfin’s host to Beleriand and Fingon’s decision to look for Maedhros. 
Five years in which the two hosts are quite literally on the verge of civil war because, let’s not forget:
No love was there in the hearts of those that followed Fingolfin for the House of Fëanor, for the agony of those that endured the crossing of the Ice had been great, and Fingolfin held the sons the accomplices of their father. 
Diplomacy is a painfully slow (and absolutely frustrating!) ordeal. Fingon’s decision is born from this strife, from thirty years on the Helcaraxë, and five years of civil restlessness, not to mention the clear signs that Morgoth is ready to attack them at any moment:
Then Fingon the valiant, son of Fingolfin, resolved to heal the feud that divided the Noldor, before their Enemy should be ready for war; for the earth trembled in the Northlands with the thunder of the forges of Morgoth underground. 
This is not rashness. This is the sacrifice of a captain who is willing to make the best of what time is left before full-out destruction begins. It would be rashness if Fingon got his company and crossed Mithrim to wage battle on the Fëanorians. Instead, he chooses differently for the sake of peace, stability, and renewed friendship.
The trek from Lake Mithrim to Thangorodrim could be estimated at around 150 miles, depending on the map we follow, and there are grasslands and two sets of mountains to cross, not to mention the horror of Thangorodrim. Fingon travels on foot. It would take him weeks, maybe even months, to find Maedhros. Plenty of time for the fire of rashness to cool down if that was the case. But he persists because he has no other choice.
Similarly, I often see takes on Fingolfin that he rushes to pointless combat with Morgoth in the same manner as Fëanor had done. Yet again, the timeline is crucial here. The published Silmarillion has the battle lasting at least several months. Bragollach starts in F.A. 455 during winter time: 
There came a time of winter, when night was dark and without moon
The battle slows down presumably a few months later:
but the Battle of Sudden Flame is held to have ended with the coming of spring, when the onslaught of Morgoth grew less.
The onslaught grows less, but it doesn’t fully cease. Morgoth and Sauron reissue their attacks early into Fingon’s kingship.
In the Grey Annals, the timeline  is stretched further out:
Year 455:
The Fell Year. Here came an end of peace and mirth. In the winter, at the year's beginning, Morgoth unloosed at last his long-gathered strength
Year 456:
Now Fingolfin, King of the Noldor, beheld (as it seemed to him) the utter ruin of his people, and the defeat beyond redress of all their houses, and he was filled with wrath and despair.
The fighting goes on actively anywhere from a season to a full year! Fingolfin tries to hold his kingdom together for a full year despite an absolute, unquestionable disaster. I mean, look at this description of the battle:
In the front of that fire came Glaurung the golden, father of dragons, in his full might; and in his train were Balrogs, and behind them came the black armies of the Orcs in multitudes such as the Noldor had never before seen or imagined. And they assaulted the fortresses of the Noldor, and broke the leaguer about Angband, and slew wherever they found them the Noldor and their allies, Grey elves and Men. Many of the stoutest of the foes of Morgoth were destroyed in the first days of that war, bewildered and dispersed and unable to muster their strength. War ceased not wholly ever again in Beleriand
Fingolfin’s decision to ride out, again, is not out of recklessness or a spur-of-the-moment decision. It’s everything but that. He has given everything and truly believes it’s all lost: “the utter ruin of his people, and the defeat beyond redress of all their houses.” (!!!) 
This is a final stand, the King’s duty to stand by his people, even in death.
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blueskittlesart · 4 months
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Hi hi lore question! Do you ever focus on the enemies in the games? Like how the -blins and -fos are sentient and have their own villages and cultures (to my knowledge, as far back as TP but I never had any of the earlier games). How these guys live and serve Ganon even though they should be all rights be separate societies. Is there anything in the game lore or storytelling that shows how this came about or how they interact with each other?
(side note but the TP mini boss in the yeti house seems to be a normal lizalfos that got corrupted and transformed by proximity to the mirror imo)
i haven't focused too much on it but i think it's definitely interesting!! in earlier games, the only enemies who specifically served ganon were the -blins, which were at least visually implied to be somehow related to him because they were all pig monsters like him (this was before the gerudo lore was added.) but there were also some instances of races that are now pretty ubiquitously friendly being hostile--most notably the zora in alttp behave just like menial enemies and will attack you if you come near them, even after you talk to their king. so there is some precedent for these creatures to not be necessarily EVIL so much as they are hostile.
I honestly don't remember very much about tp so i'm gonna use botw/totk as my jumping-off point here just because i'm more confident about it, but in those games the description/general vibe of the monsters sort of shift from "race of nonhuman creatures who are Evil and serve ganon Just Because" to "creatures specifically created by and for ganon, who rely on ganon's power to sustain themselves and are seemingly compelled against their will to carry out ganon's will." because you're right that if left to their own devices, the monsters in these games will generally just kind of. exist in their own little societies. but the second they so much as SEE you, regardless of if you're bothering them, they go into attack mode. the existence of the blood moon and the dialog we get about it suggests to me that these monsters are specifically creations of ganon--the blood moon is supposedly "when ganon's power is at its peak," and it causes "the aimless souls of slain monsters to return to flesh." the fact that ganon can revive these monsters when his power is heightened suggests that 1. they were created by him in the first place and 2. they are under his control in some way. Zelda also makes reference in a few cutscenes to an increased level of monster activity being a sign that the calamity is approaching, implying that ganon is creating more and more monsters as his power grows in preparation for his eventual return. so, at least in botw/totk, I don't think the monsters can really be treated as independant races that just so happen to be hostile, since their existence seems to be contingent upon the existence of ganon and they appear to be constantly under his control to some degree. imo the fact that they form packs that resemble societies is probably just a result of having a lot of downtime in the hundred years link was asleep, and maybe a base instinct that understands strength in numbers.
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lewkwoodnco · 11 months
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Hello! I would like to request Lockwood x Fem!Reader best friends to lovers based on gold rush <3
Gold Rush - Lockwood x Reader
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A/N: I’ve always looked at gold rush as an enemies to lovers song so this was rlly interesting!!! Will update wc once I wake up 😴😴 (2.8k!)
It was the morning after one of the most tiring cases Lockwood & Co. had had in a while. Beyond the sheer size of the mansion, there seemed to be a new kind of Type Two waiting for them in every room. It was the type of case that left you too tired to complain at the end, but for whom the frustration carried over to the next morning.
“I’m charging them double at least. It’s one thing to bend the truth - they used it as a skipping rope!”
The four of them were in the kitchen, having breakfast. When she had come down, there was only George sipping his tea in the one lit corner of the kitchen. Lockwood was usually the first one up, so his absence was testament to his exhaustion. She had sighed, not realising that she had buttered some toast for him until she was done. George looked suspiciously invested in the newspaper. “And- oh, you’re too sweet, Y/N.”
Lockwood had found the plate of toast, which she had hoped would disappear. He shifted behind her, making some tea, absent-mindedly grazing her head with his fingers as he walked past. Her grip on the cereal box tightened, and she raised it, reading the ingredients with newfound interest. She swallowed, feeling her cheeks burn behind the cereal box, hoping no one would notice. Lockwood certainly didn’t, because he had moved on to that night’s Fittes gala, but Lucy’s gaze lingered on her a bit too long for her to be fully in the clear.
When she felt that she had calmed down enough, she lowered the cereal box, her eye instantly drawn to Lockwood’s limp yet perfectly neat hair, each strand naturally settled in place. Even when most relaxed, there was something artificially manufactured in every wave in his hair, every crease of his face, but in a way that didn’t aggravate but enticed: ambrosia incarnate.
George made some intimation about heading tor the Archives to finish up the research on their next job, and purpose rushed back into Lockwood, broken out of his early-morning sluggishness. Lucy left for more rapier practice as well, but George hung back before leaving. He stared at her, which was normal George behaviour, yet a part of her felt compelled to justify her earlier preoccupation with the cereal box. It was so redundant - it wasn’t like he could read her thoughts (though sometimes she would suddenly remember how smart he truly was and how piercing his gaze could be, at which she would decide to try to not take any chances; it was only a matter of time), and even if he could, there was nothing noteworthy. Just…perfectly normal thoughts about her perfectly normal boss.
“Did you know…that Froot Loops don’t actually have different flavours?”
“Do you know that you’re eating pure sugar?”
“…you’re no fun.”
————————————————————————
Every year, they were always invited to the same gala hosted by the same Fittes agency, yet the preceding afternoon was almost always as stressful as any ghost-hunting job. Scarves hung on every surface by Lucy, who never wore any of them, shirts thrown down the stairwell as Lockwood dramatically proclaimed that none of his shirts would do, and George yelling at everyone to quit making so much noise until Lucy grew sentient enough to wrestle him into something semi-formal.
This year was no different. The four of them flitted from room to room like moths, contributing to more than one clumsy collision. Now, she wandered out of the attic into the hallway forlornly, clutching two different shoes. She liked fancy galas as much as the next person, but sometimes it felt overwhelming to get ready for them. “I’m not sure if I should come.”
“No!” That was Lockwood, rifling through a box of multi coloured cloths, somehow still pristine even when half-dressed. “You have to come. Lucy and George are too morally upright to gossip. I’ll be bored to tears without you.” Her heart stupidly fluttered, the corners of her mouth twitching despite herself as she watched him drape a bow tie around his neck. But of course, Lockwood wasn’t Lockwood if he didn’t have his signature ability to put his foot in his mouth.
“Besides, all of Fittes will be there, all of Rotwell will be there. We all need to go.”
“Of course.” Her harsh tone made Lockwood pause his flurry of activity, looking as though he wanted to fix what he had said. But he hesitated too long and now Lucy was barreling down the corridor, trying to find her boots, and the two of them awkwardly shifted away. She hadn’t meant to sound so bitter. What did she even have to be bitter about?
Before either of them could give it any more thought, they heard a dramatic gasp from George’s room, where they found Lucy blackmailing him into coming by holding one of his dusty old books hostage. George looked like he was about to burst a blood vessel. But the blackmail worked, not that George let Lucy off the hook for the rest of the night, grumbling and bemoaning the (temporary) loss of his beloved friend. Other than that, they reached without much fuss, and Lockwood was quick to get to business.
“How about we do some networking?”
“What, with other agencies?”
“Connections couldn’t hurt.”
George shared a knowing glance with Lucy, but it was so brief that it was quickly forgotten, especially in light of his comment. “That’s just as well. I spy a couple Fittes agents who wouldn’t seem to mind, er, connecting with Lockwood.”
Lockwood frowned, but she didn’t pay attention long enough to see his full reaction. George had nodded towards this cluster (really, only three of them) of Fittes agents who seemed to have a particularly high propensity for giggling. They huddled even closer together when the four of them looked over, and they began furiously whispering into each other ears, eyes still intent on Lockwood. She hadn’t been much different when she had first joined the agency, and it certainly was amusing how oblivious he was to how ridiculously attractive he was, only showing a hint of awareness whenever he turned on the charm for particularly difficult clients. So polished, so shiny, so cool above the hot struggles of the ordinary folk he surrounded himself with, breezing through life. She would have resented him if he weren’t so darling.
Every time he wandered a bit too close to her, she braced herself for his touch. Because that was definitely what she was doing: bracing herself. Not like she wanted him to touch her or anything. And she definitely wasn’t repeatedly dying a slow and painful death as she replayed his brush at breakfast. And of course, Lockwood was too engrossed in his conversation with some stuffy bigwig to notice anything. He was gesturing around them with the air of someone far richer than he already was.
“We operate differently at Lockwood and Co. Glamour and glitz has its place, but personally we might have gone for something more…elegant. More…tasteful, perhaps.”
She snorted into her champagne a little more aggressively that she had intended. For someone so beautiful, Lockwood could be so full of shit sometimes. She smiled apologetically, and Lockwood helped fix things with that smooth laugh of his, but the disconcerted look in his eye told her he wasn’t going to forget about that anytime soon. Eventually, the bigwig needed to talk to another bigwig, so they excused themselves and turned to hunt for their next prey.
“What was that?”
“Oh, please, like I’m just supposed to stand and watch you and lie that blatantly. You’d sell your soul to have a gala as big as this tied to your name. You were so convincing, it’s almost impressive.”
“Thank you.”
“I said ‘almost.’”
He swooped down to the shell of her ear. “Good enough for me.” She frantically stamped out the butterflies in her stomach. Stupid Lockwood and his stupid warm breath tickling her ear and his stupid devastatingly appealing indifference towards morality. She pulled away from his magnetic field, thoughts tangled in her irritation.
“Y/N,” she stopped fuming long enough to realise Lockwood had dragged her to a quieter part of the party, but his words still bounced off her numb mind inconsequentially. “Are you alright? Was it-“ he grimaced uncomfortably. “Was it what I said back home? Because I didn’t-“
She was vaguely aware of her reaching out and holding his hand, trying to find the right words. The warmth of his hand anchored her even as she was drowning in it. It was dangerous, having him so close with a mind so willing to delve into nonsense. She could see herself tiptoeing out of his room, on wooden floors she only knew of through creaks far too late at night, her sweater dangling on the doorknob-
All of a sudden, he was gold under her touch. Gleaming and perfect, perfectly solid and assured as the riches that entrenched on him now consumed him: the perfect sculpture. And yet his eyes still hummed with the unmistakeable fervour of life, of spirit, of the adventure he so recklessly indulged himself in. She was slowing her breath, he was pulling her under, and she was dizzy with it, dizzy with him. It wasn’t normal, but they were never normal. Lockwood would beckon, and she would succumb, and each time common sense caught up to her just a little bit later than the last time, leaving her dangerously close to diving into the whirlpool that was Lockwood, inhibitions forgotten.
But then the music swelled, and laughter grated on her ears, and she remembered where she was. She let go of his hand almost spitefully, and walked away, ignoring his attempts to get her to stop. It was all so unnecessary and so saddening.
They left soon after, the can uncharacteristically quiet as two out of the four members tried to beat their hearts into submission. As they hung up their coats near the front door, Lockwood paused, and she was sure he was going to say something, but then the moment passed again and she was left climbing the stairs frustrated and wholly dissatisfied.
She kept the door to the attic a crack open, watching as much as she could of Lockwood drifting to the library, not looking away until she heard the soft click of the door. She closed her eyes, burning every memory and image of him into her retinas. Flashes of Lockwood danced like bright spots as she undressed: the bow tie left desolate around his neck, the champagne that blended in with his skin under the golden lights, the unscrupulous charisma that radiated off his too-bright smile…it was unhealthy how drugged she felt on the high that was Lockwood. But tonight had been too real, too visceral: she couldn’t bear dreaming about him for another second.
It was only twenty-four hours ago that she had been wandering near the coast with him while looking for the Source. The air was dizzy with salt and Lockwood’s eyes danced a bit too merrily for either of them to feel too burdened by the hunt for the Source. It was just as well that Lucy and George had found it, because she and Lockwood were utterly useless, getting drunk of each other’s laughter, stumbling in the shifting sand and gravel. She wondered if he thought about that night the way she did, if his breath caught too as he was swept up in the memory of the innocence they shared, blazing as they brazenly ambled foolishly for no one’s eyes but the moon’s and the seas’ who witnessed a love as pure as theirs for the first and last time.
————————————————————————
She woke up feeling painfully brittle from the previous night. She slept restlessly, too preoccupied to wade through her thoughts with much precision, until she finally heard enough movement downstairs. Lockwood was surprisingly already fully dressed, staring a hole into the wall with the case file of their next job in front of him. But his ironed clothes were jarring rather than refreshing, especially when contrasted against the bruises under his eyes and his translucent skin. Good. He was too disarming when he was well-rested anyway. All her resentment towards him dissolved at the sight of a stack of meticulously buttered toast and cup of tea: an Anthony Lockwood peace offering if she ever saw one. It made her want to cry, but it wasn’t the time for it, so she settled for a gnawing in her stomach.
From the boys’ stilted conversation, she gathered that Lockwood had already been to the site that morning and there was clearly something about it that their clients weren’t telling them. From the look she shared with George as they started discussing their clients’ possible secrets, it was clear that he too was slightly troubled. It wasn’t like Lockwood to go out for walks alone, especially before dawn. She nearly upset the milk jug when her heart swooped as she thought about Lockwood staying up alone, slowly bleeding into the shadows of the house that threatened to inhale him. It made her feel funny.
“Hm?” Lockwood turned, tuning back in only at the tail end of the conversation. She hated how adorable his half-confused expression was and how it made her forget how to breathe. She scoffed, leaving her toast but begrudgingly taking her tea with her, mumbling something about Anna Karenina. She was properly put off her breakfast. As if lingering in the edges of her mind wasn’t enough, he just had to disrupt her appetite too.
“Hey.” He had found her hiding away on the floor of the library between some bookshelves. Not that she was actively avoiding him.
“Hey.” Sleep deprivation wasn’t a good look on anyone, but Lockwood still managed to pull it off. Still, he looked miles more unkempt like this than in a regular, cotton shirt.
He uselessly gestured towards the plate, looking less than the perfect cool he typically maintained. “I brought your toast.”
“I’m fine with my tea, thanks.” She fixed her eyes back onto her book, painfully aware of him watching her. He sighed and sat down in front of her.
“I know you felt it too, last night. I don’t know why you’re mad at me when you’re the one going around lying through your teeth.” She snapped her book close. Enough was enough.
“Because we’ll never be anything more. You’re this…this craze, this bug that’s infected everyone that’s slowly sucking the life out of me, you…you hedonistic disease. You’ll hold my hand and brush your fingers against my head but you’ll never kiss me. And why would you?” She nudged her tea further behind; she couldn’t tolerate even glancing at it. It reminded her of the waves that teased their soles, brimming with awe, a memory that was steadily sinking into the grey of her unpleasantly cold tea. “You have so much more, so much better to choose from. Everybody wants you.”
“Who cares about everyone else?”
“I care! Normal people care! How can you expect me to just stand here, knowing that I will never be good enough for someone like you?”
He looked so genuinely lost that she almost felt sorry for him. Almost.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know what it means. Someone as iridescent, and perfect as you.” She spat out that word with disgust. If she weren’t so upset, he would have made some stupid quip about her finding him perfect, but that was a bone to pick for another time. He reached out, holding her hand to his chest.
“Y/N…no one could be more perfect than you.”
She snatched her hand back. Now he was just mocking her. “Don’t! Don’t say that when it isn’t true.”
“But it is!”
“Anthony Lockwood, you are made of fibs, half-truths and tall tales. You bend the truth! You bend, and you bend and you bend until you snap me right in half.”
She was crying by this point. God, could she be more embarrassing? Lockwood shuffled towards her, wrapping an arm around her and speaking into her hair. The exact same spot his fingers had brushed and ignited this chain sequence of events.
“You’re right. I’m a vagabond. A no-good…charlatan. But,” he adjusted his head to look into her eyes, and now all she saw were faint tendrils of gold dust sprinkling in his irises. “I’m your charlatan. Don’t you think?”
And with eyes like those, how could she say no?
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fallout4-reacts · 1 year
Note
How would the companions react to walking in on Sole nude (not in like a sexual way, but like, got a wound on their thigh during a fight and was in the middle of stitching it up in their room with the door closed or something like that)
That raider was ruthless, sneaking around Sole and opening them up like a fish with their bloody, rusted knife. Sole made it through and made it to Sanctuary owing to the stimpacks, but now they has to assess the extent of their injuries and heal themself. Sole totally removed their garments as the enemy drove his blade directly into their ribcage and managed to slide down to the thigh, shocked by the length of the cut. Then they hear footsteps in the corridor...
Cait : She casts a quick glance at Sole before crossing her arms and leans against the doorframe.
"Not bad, I had one like that before. Ya can come back after you're done patching and tell that fool Preston that I'm not going to take care of his stupid tatos. He wants a planter, but I'm too busy with my bat knocking the heads off the raiders trying to take us from behind."
Sole remains stuck for several seconds before regaining the capacity to speak.
"Can you get out of here now?" they ask, their face expressionless.
"What? Are you going to say you're shy? You don't have to; you're hiding a lovely body beneath your armor."
"OUT!"
Codsworth : (OK, not exactly speaking steps) In a nervose movement, his mechanical arms rotate two or three times on themselves. He tries to keep his cool by moving his three eyes in unison towards the corridor.
"Please excuse my untimely disruption, Mum/Sir; I came to inform you that supper will be served tonight in the common room. All of your companions will be present, but if you want, I may arrange a meal for you in your extremely quiet dining room. I understand if you don't feel compelled to... socialize."
Sole smiles at their butler, but he doesn't look at them.
"That's OK, Cods, eh... When... I'm finished, I'll join you in the lounge to discuss this further."
"Definitely!"
And the robot bolted from the room.
Curie : She runs over to inspect the huge wound.
"Oh no! What occurred? How come you didn't provide proper care?"
"That's exactly what I was about to do."
"This lesion requires disinfection and suturing! Just wait for me; I'll collect my equipment!"
Sole would have liked to object, or at the very least inform Curie that it is not appropriate to enter people's bedrooms without their permission because they may be... naked... but the Synth has already gone. Sole, with a pout, casts a glance at... their own health kit.
Danse : If embarrassment could kill him, he would have died right there. His face is absolutely bloodless. Not that he hasn't seen other naked soldiers; intimacy is a very meaningless concept in the field. But Sole, in this situation. He feels as if he has crossed an unbearable line and committed an awful act. He swiftly turns around and makes a motion to exit, but his brain records the second piece of information.
"You are severely injured!"
"It's mostly superficial, but it is."
"Need…help?"
"No, I'm doing just fine on my own."
"Perfect!"
And he's back in the hallway as swiftly as he came. Sole will have to wait until the paladin explains why he came to see them in the first place.
Deacon : (glitch power) As soon as his eyes are drawn to Sole's nude body, a huge wicked smile grows on his lips, and before his friend is able to react, he is in his underwear. Sole is taken aback and takes some time to comprehend what the spy is saying.
"Is this some sort of nudist gathering? Or is this an Adam and Eve celebration?"
"This is MY room, and I am HURT!"
"Oh, yes!"
Deacon is clothed again before Sole can say anything else. The unfortunate vault dweller is fully swept away this time.
"So, let me look at this wound— 
"No, get out!"
"Alright, alright. Whatever you desire! But if you ever feel like the planet is spinning much faster than it should, give me a call and I'll be there."
And now he's gone. Sole winks, unsure whether the scene was real or if they have hallucinating.
Dogmeat : He lies on the bed with his head resting on his legs, waiting for Sole to finish.
Elder Maxson : He enters and exits the room. It was a single continuous motion. With no change in expression. When Sole is finished, they dress and proceed to the living room, where they find the Elder in a pretty stiff position. The Elder, on the other hand, constantly stands straight.
"You're done, Knight. I needed the report on supermutant activity near Satellite Station Olivia immediately. Did you finish cleaning everything?"
"Not a single mutant left alive, sir."
"Perfect, perfect, perfect. I'm returning to the Prydwen in order to dispatch the soldiers to retrieve any sensitive data that may be left. I intend you get there as quickly as possible."
"Yes, sir."
"And, Knight..."
"Yes, sir?"
"Please never bring up this unfortunate incident again."
"The satellite station's super mutants?"
"You are fully aware of what I mean. Dismiss."
"This is my living room, sir."
"Perfect, perfect, perfect. Have a nice day."
He walks out of the home, and we can hear the motor of a vertibird in the distance. Sole then allows themselves to burst out laughing.
Hancock : His smile becomes so large that he appears to have much less flesh on his face. Sole's expression is devastation.
"Wow, this is my kind of job!"
"I am hurt!"
"Yes, I see. That's too bad. Need a hand?"
"Definitely not!"
"Well, I'll meet you in the lounge."
Hancock walks back. Sole takes comfort in the fact that, despite his debauchery, Hancock never crosses the line, demonstrating some semblance of... respect...
Gage : He enters the room and doesn't seem to be bothered in the least. He begins casually declaring the report of Nuka-World's behaviours.
"Porter! I’m naked!" 
"I saw. But as I was saying about Nisha’s operations— 
"I’m naked and I want you to go out immediately."
"All right, Boss."
Sole is still taken aback by the raider's dashing demeanour. But, well, Gage has undoubtedly seen some green ones in his life, and it does make him any more impressed by anything.
MacCready : His expression is stern, as though it were Sole's fault. Sole, for their part, is frozen in place. MacCready makes a hand gesture with a scowl on his face.
"When you're finished—whatever you do—I need your support to recover—
"Get out!"
"Okay, I'll wait in the living room."
When Sole has finished, they proceed to the living room with the intent of reprimanding the mercenary, but he sits quietly on the couch with a broad smile.
"Aside from that, it was a pretty spectacular view. Not too bad, you know?"
The vault dweller pauses before turning to return to their room. Before they rip their friend's head off, they need to scream into their pillow.
Nick Valentine : The tin can has a swirl function. Sole notices this because as soon as they realise Nick is in the doorframe, they can only see his back.
"God! Pardon! I… I didn’t think. I should have known better. I saw you come in and I wanted to... It's unforgivable, God. Pardon."
"It's fine, Nick, and given how many times you've patched me, it's not like you haven't seen these parts of my body before. It's just that you have the big picture right now."
It makes Nick feel even more uncomfortable. Even though they are over two metres apart, Sole can clearly hear Nick's fans react by kicking in all at the same time. They can't help but chuckle at the scenario, but they have too much respect for the detective to make fun of him.
Piper : A reaction halfway between Danse and Nick."Wow, Blue!" she exclaimed in turning heels. "Sorry! I’ll uh," she’s cut off by her nervous laugh, "waiting for you in the living room. Yeah, I’ll just wait for you in the living room. There. Do you have nuka cola in your fridge?"
Preston : He already possesses the grace and stature of a marble statue. He now has the stiffliness. He's not even blinking. He was about to say something, but nothing came out of his mouth. Not even breath, by the way. Sole thinks they could castigate him, but the Colonel's state of stupor is heartbreaking. They stoop, take up their coat, and drape themselves in it. When they speak, they try to employ as calm a tone as possible.
"You wanted to see me, Preston?"
"See... you? NO! Well, uh... you mean like in the expression? Okay, as stated in the expression. Okay. Yes, I was hoping to see you. But not you! I mean, I saw you, I couldn't deny it. I saw you! It’s awful! No! I mean, you're not awful! I regret! I'm truly sorry! I should have made a signal or knocked on the door— 
"Breathe!"
Sole crosses their arms, unsure whether to laughs or be annoyed by this situation. It's the first time they've seen the man in such a nervous state. They decide to take a humoros approach.
"I don't even have a door to knock on. It's all right, Preston; I understand your discomfort and that you don't mean anything."
"Of course not! I am forever thankful to you for understanding me. I mean, to grasp the situation as it is. I'll be in the living room, waiting for you."
"Does a settlement need my help?"
"Yes!" 
"My pip-boy is sitting on the table. Put it on the map, and I'll get there as soon as I can."
"Thank you!"
The man exits the room without further questioning. Sole locates the small community on their map, but they don't see their Colonel again for the rest of the day.
As if he was trying to avoid them...
Strong : The super-mutant frown.
“Puny human should wear armor.”
“Puny human is in their ROOM and you GO OUT!”
“Puny human stupid. Puny human should never let their guard down.”
“GET OUT!”
“Strong get out, but Strong wants to know when human and Strong are going to get the Milk of Human Kindness.”
“GET OUT!”
X6-88 : Hands behind back, straight, and unimpressed.
"Ma'am/Sir, it is not appropriate to deal with such an injury without the expertise of the Institute's doctors."
"X6? Could you just leave my room right away?"
The Courser executes, but only for a few steps in the hallway.
"I reiterate my recommendation that you be taken in to one of the Institute's physicians for a professional body examination."
"Get the fuck away!"
"There is no need to get carried away and use vernacular. Unlike the way you handled the damage you caused yourself on your last assignment, my advice are perfectly adequate."
"I'm perfectly capable of handling the damage I've done to myself, and if you don't want me to do any damage to you, I recommend you take the Sanctuary Grand Tour right now!"
X6 obeys without fully comprehending why the future director places themselves in such a state.
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utilitycaster · 2 months
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Hey, so can you explain to me the difference between the gods taking down Aeor and Ludinus destroying Molaesmyr? I’ve read some pro-Ludinus takes and, at least the ones I’ve read, seem to forget Molaesmyr. I feel like Ludinus and the gods did the same thing but for different reasons. The gods wanted to save themselves and at the same time (maybe I read it wrong) tried to find other ways to take down The Factorum Malleus with minimal casualties. Ludinus, according to his notes in episode 58 of c3 hoped “a channel of consciousness could be opened and perhaps whatever is seeking his attention from the red moon can bring clarity and purpose.” But that didn’t happen. He caused poisonous fumes, miasma, to happen and it killed a lot of people. A lot of people who are pro-Ludinus (at least the ones I’ve read) always bring up the innocents of Aeor and how awful it it that they died because of the gods actions, but what about the innocents in Molaesmyr? The ones Ludinus killed? They both brought down citys. So, what’s the difference? I could totally be wrong, but every time I read Ludinus lovers takes I feel like I lose brain cells.
Hi anon,
I can't say I've avoided ascribing intent to other fans in the past, nor that I don't at times speculate (see: the Laudna ask from last night) but I cannot answer the question of why other people might gloss over Ludinus's destruction of Molaesmyr. I think it's fair to say these are very different situations in terms of intent of the destroyers, number of survivors, innocence and intent of the city itself, and lasting effects; I personally would say "Ludinus Da'leth has no moral high ground re: destroying a city," but some people wouldn't. You would have to ask them.
I did want to use this opportunity, however, to sort of explore my sticking point re: people in favor of Ludinus because what gets me in the end is I can't find any like...narrative or moral throughline. I don't think I've seen anyone at this point say that he's right, is the problem; the people who are in his favor still have him joining Bells Hells as a redemption arc.
I find a lot of the fans of Ludinus believe that the gods should leave. They downplay the threat of Predathos and the vast harm Ludinus himself has done; wildly overstate the harm done to Ruidusborn (and ignore that a lot of the contemporaneous harm towards Ruidusborn is specifically directed at the Vanguard, a cultish army), and make unsupported assumptions regarding the positions of the gods re: Laudna; they overstate the power of Vasselheim; and generally have either a tenuous grasp on the lore or a shameless willingness to fabricate support for their claims. However, outside of the occasional banal "idk maybe it would be interesting if a god got eaten!" post, pretty much everyone stops short of actually fully siding with him.
This, to be clear, is good, because he really has been an architect of such war and destruction and abuses of power within Exandria over the past several centuries that it's fairly unconscionable to do so. The thing is, this leaves us with an interesting conundrum: how does the campaign end? Does Ludinus just. step down? Does he start killing the Vanguard? Does he undo the harm he's done to the weave of magic? What happens to the Weave Mind? Do they become the enemy? If your clear and present BBEG just flips sides, and his larger goal is one you think is kind of okay...where does that leave us? What does this look like? What happens to the gods then when the guy trying to kill them just gives up? Is there any resolution to any of the story beats? Like, what is the ending of this story when Ludinus is on Bells Hells' side?
It's honestly the eternal fix-it fic/What if the Villain could be GOOD problem. I'm not saying there can't be compelling stories about redemption and healing - obviously there can be - but sometimes a fictional character really isn't built to make sense of a narrative of redemption and healing. I don't think Ludinus is built like that. The story kind of unravels around him if he does not see his purpose of a thousand years through to the bitter end. I'm not saying it's impossible; a simultaneous strength and weakness of actual play is that the unexpected can happen because of player choice and particular dice rolls, and sometimes the unexpected is brilliant and sometimes it really isn't.
I find myself with the following two hypotheses. They are only educated guesses; they are not confirmed in any way.
Ludinus Da'leth is, in a way, Matt exploring the terrifying question "what if someone who subscribes to the politics of bitterness and revenge happened to also be intelligent and competent." I hesitate to draw direct comparisons to such figures as, say, Trump, or Elon Musk, but there is something in how Ludinus is played that evokes that base desire to destroy something because you found it insulted you (especially if it wasn't even after you personally), and dedicating your power and resources to taking it over, even if that is a joyless endeavor that destroys you in the process.
I think a lot of fans of Ludinus Da'leth are terrified of being wrong, either morally or in terms of their predictions; ironically this leads to a tendency to hedge to the point of incoherence as seen above such that I think it's impossible for them to ever be correct in their predictions other than in the most tangential or obvious (ie, everyone is predicting this) ways.
Anyway: this didn't really answer your question for the reasons given but I hope this explores why, in my mind, it kind of doesn't matter.
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redaliveviolation · 4 months
Text
SPOILERS FOR BATMAN 148!!
Am I a bad person for laughing when I heard that Jason got killed off again? No, here’s why and how I think he should die instead:
This is gonna be a long one so strap in folks. I have sort of been cherry picking this whole run just because the writing has been so wishy washy, so much so that it’s genuinely made me lose an interest in DC. Comics lately have been pulling the weirdest things just for shock value, because they can’t write a half decent story line or character anymore. Their characters will have some growth and then it immediately gets destroyed a couple of issues later.
I’m sure you’ve heard it before (because we all agree) but there’s no real consequences in comics anymore. Characters get killed off at the end of an issue just for them to be revived within a few issues or if we’re going with Batman 148, literally the next one. There’s no legitimate stakes because everything that happens gets “fixed.” Tim gets shot through the throat? Eh he’ll be fine, he can walk it off and be up and running within an issue or two. Bruce starts acting erratic/insane (again)? Oh don’t worry it’s not actually Bruce it’s his alternate personality Zur-En-Arrh. Which, side note, is the stupidest fucking name/concept I’ve seen in a while, truly baffling.
Honestly, the only part of the run that I’ve seen so far that’s even a little bit interesting is Bruce literally changing Jason’s brain chemistry so that whenever adrenaline hits he has a fear response so bad it shuts him down. Let’s start off with, hey Bruce what the fuck? If he’s had a machine that can legitimately rewire a person’s brain in that way to make him incapable of killing, why in the world would you not use it on the rogues? And yes, I understand that some of them either don’t react to fear, embrace it, don’t care etc etc but if you have the technology to change their brain whos to say you can’t make that machine do whatever you want? It doesn’t have to be specifically fear. Maybe force their motor neurons to not respond whenever they experience an adrenaline rush so they physically cannot move and kill their prey. Moralistically, it’s not the most correct, obviously, but that’s just an example of an extreme. There’s a lot more acceptable things it could be used for and Batman never does. Having that as a plot point makes no sense logically when applying it to Bruce in any way. Even though he’s been written as straight up brain dead these last few years based on his decisions, Bruce is a very smart man and could absolutely find both a morally correct and smart/safe option using the machine. It doesn’t even make sense for him to have it seeing as he would have used it already and cut down on about half of his Gotham related problems. “Oh, but red! That would mean that we’d have to get rid of the Joker because the machine would have taken care of him.” GOOD, I’m sick of his ass, there are so many better rogues to pick from as a new arch enemy. The Joker is bland, predictable, and I could not give less of a fuck about him, he’s not compelling in any way.
Secondly, as fucked up as it is it could actually (unfortunately, I don’t like giving them any credit nowadays) be an insanely good way to kill off Jason and make it stick. Or, at least I think they should make it stick because again, actions have consequences and comics need to go back to that. Anyways, to sum it up it would most likely send Jason into cardiac arrest. The sympathetic nervous system (SNS) controls both the adrenaline and fear responses the machine would be “regulating.” The SNS triggers the fight/flight response and sends epinephrine (adrenaline) throughout the body, elevating heart rate and blood pressure. As soon as higher levels of epinephrine are produced the machine will kick on the fear response to “suppress” this, but instead of shutting off the flow of epinephrine and/or producing acetylcholine to lower heart rate, when the fear response is kicked into motion even more epinephrine will flood the system. It becomes a never ending cycle fueling itself, never ending fear. Your heart working that hard and fast for such an extended period of time would absolutely give out on you.
Personally, I think that would be an insane wake up call to everyone but for this he would need to stay dead and to stay dead for a while. As in several years at least. As stated earlier, long term consequences do not exist in DC (or at least Batman) comics anymore, everything gets turned around with not great writing or retconned or generally not accepted as canon. But a death like this would mean something. It wouldn’t just be death for shock value, it would be Jason Todd, one of Batman’s alleged greatest mistakes being put down like a dog and Bruce having to live with it. How would Bruce’s morals shift and change because of his death? Would he reconsider how he deals with rogues, would he retire, would he leave? How would his children react and retaliate? How would the rogues react seeing Batman inadvertently cause the death of his child in his pursuit of Justice?
The effect of Jason’s death was extremely significant on many characters and their development the first time it occurred, would it be more or less so this time? So many routes to pursue, it’s a horrifying concept when you think about how it would actually affect Jason which is why they’re never going to do anything about it. If you’re going to use a character death as a plot point it has to actually mean something, not a mindless death that’ll be cured quickly and with an incredibly inane line of “I’ve had practice dying.” Wow, you’re so original. I’m pretty sure I read that in some b-rated fic by a 14 year old two years ago. Also, maybe stop acting like Jason is the only one who has died and that he’s the most special because of it? Outside of Tim (because he’s never legit died in canon, only offshoots) practically everyone else in the family has died at one point. His personality is not just his death. It’s irritating and it’s poor writing.
TLDR: I’m right, DC’s wrong and their writing is shit. If Jason dies it needs to have an actual literary purpose and it needs to stick for it to mean anything.
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