#this was maybe quite possibly perhaps influenced by real events

[meaningofaeons]

… ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ࿐ྂ majesty: character introductions

the complete cast & crew of the majesty series.

… ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ࿐ྂ the main lead

⊹ Lady Y/N — The sole lady of the Stella Duchy. Treated coldly by your father, Archduke Louis Fleming—a mysterious man who runs multiple businesses of the Empire and rarely leaves his own office—you grew up alone and neglected. As a result, you acted out in many ways, becoming a social pariah despised by the masses. Though your actions were never harmful or dangerous, they brought you the ire of all you met. With the power of your father and the Stella Duchy behind you, however, no noble had any recourse to stop you. Eventually, you are accused of high treason—attempting to poison Saintess Kafka of the state religion, Destiny. Though you are only banished thanks to your family’s influence, you are killed by the Duke of the North before you can even reach the border. Lying in your own pool of blood, you prayed to the Aeons for mercy on your wretched life, for a chance to fix your mistakes. Anything. Was it an Aeon who enjoys toying with human lives? Or perhaps one that felt their immortal, unfeeling heart touched by your desperate plea? Maybe, it was merely an Aeon acting on a whim. Or maybe… it wasn’t an Aeon at all. However it may have occurred, you were sent back in time 10 years to three months before your coming-of-age, your debut. With the knowledge of the future in your hands, you must dispel the rumors that have been building of your vile disposition, and change your perception to the entire Empire to avoid your own death!

… ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ࿐ྂ the romanceable leads

⊹ Gepard Landau — The words used to describe Lord Gepard could only be awe-inspiring and valiant, gallant and brave. Though his sister, Marchioness Serval, was the one to inherit the Marquessate of Belobog, Gepard found himself better suited to matters of military governance. As such, the Emperor of Stellaron saw fit to place him on the front lines of Stellaron’s many wars. In peacetime, the young lord finds himself accompanying his sister to social events and Imperial Meetings to act as her guard. There are no secrets to him. When he meets you, however, is it possible that he has found one more thing to fight for? Or are you the one who will bring him to ruin again?

⊹ Sampo Koski — The mysterious, cunning, and handsome Mage of the Tower. Though he has immense power and a lot of intrigue surrounding his name and abilities, he keeps to the shadows and deals in secret, staying out of the noble world’s spotlight and keeping the only mention of his name relegated to ridiculous rumors. It feels like this fun-loving man knows more than he lets on. How will you uncover the truth behind the real Mage of the Tower?

⊹ Kafka — Beloved, beautiful, and kind beyond compare. Though Saintess Kafka has her mysteries, she is regarded as the highest-ranking person of the Stellaron Empire, just beneath the Emperor himself. The Church of Destiny’s position is quite solid and strong, and as such, nobody can deny her nobility and influence. Her poisoning threw the previous timeline into complete disarray—but that was almost exactly how she planned it. Beneath that sweet exterior lies a woman of great guile and cunning, working towards the destiny that her benefactor sees. In the past, it was you who was accused of bringing the lovely Saintess to ruin. Yet, this time, it almost seems as though she’s drawn to you. Is this genuine coquetry… or malicious conniving?

⊹ Dan Heng — The son of a common Baron, a humble librarian serving the Imperial Palace Library that earned his position through smarts alone—that is the way Dan Heng presents himself. Though the latter may be true, it is only at the end that he is discovered to be far more, a notable Xianzhou Count’s sole heir and son. Cold, but just kind enough to take pity on one who has lost everything. You may find an uncommon ally in Dan Heng. Though he did not lift a finger to assist you in your previous life, perhaps your newfound knowledge and attitude will convince him to come to your aid this time?

⊹ Stelle — A commoner, the daughter of a deposed noble who was killed soon thereafter. She is kind, resourceful, and helpful… but also rather quiet. Though she lost all of her memories of her life as a noble, she has a strong talent with swordsmanship, and an unsatisfiable quench to know what she once knew as her life. Somehow, it seems as though there is more to her than meets the eye. Why is it that she seems out of place in this reincarnated life? Stelle could be your one-way-ticket to safety in your second chance at life, if you can find the right means to bring her to your side. Can you succeed in convincing her to follow you to the ends of the earth?

⊹ Jing Yuan — Of the neighboring dominions, the Xianzhou Empire has the friendliest relations with the Stellaron Empire. Emperor Jing Yuan’s people have long enjoyed prosperity under his reign. However, hearsay has begun to swirl regarding their Emperor’s long-standing unmarried status, which quickly devolves into rumors of a lover from afar, as well as concern for his heir and the future of the Xianzhou. What is your course of action when you run into the Great Sun of Xianzhou, and he soon considers that you may just be his best option to rid of those petty rumors once and for all?

⊹ Blade — Known only by his forename, Archduke Blade of the North. A cruel, calculating, and monstrous man known for both his exploits in the recent war and his terrifying violence. Though he is of great service to the Stellaron Empire and is rumored to have devilishly handsome looks, the fearful rumors surrounding his disposition drives everyone away. However, when this mysterious noble arrives at the Capital for an Imperial Banquet and runs into you, how will this alter the destiny he previously thought he must follow?

⊹ ▉▉▉▉▉▉ — Some things are best left unsaid, and some things are best left forgotten. To find the truth is to find the end. To remember is to live again.

╎リ ℸ ̣ ⍑╎ᓭ ꖎ╎⎓ᒷ, !¡ᒷ∷⍑ᔑ!¡ᓭ ⍑ᒷ ∴╎ꖎꖎ ⎓╎リ↸ ||𝙹⚍ ʖᒷ⎓𝙹∷ᒷ ╎ℸ ̣ ╎ᓭ ℸ ̣ 𝙹𝙹 ꖎᔑℸ ̣ ᒷ

… ⇢ ˗ˏˋ ࿐ྂ the supporting characters

⊹ Emperor Olivier de Stella Ron — The ever-mysterious and wise Emperor of the Stellaron Empire. Many rumors surround him due in part to limited public appearances due to "health" problems. There almost isn't even enough in knowledge about him to gossip about him, but one thing is certain: The Empire's overwhelming prosperity is thanks to his might, influence, and wisdom.

⊹ Duke Louis Fleming — The Duke of the Stella Duchy and a direct relative of Emperor Olivier. There is not much known about him, aside from the fact that he has some part to play in just about every business that exists in the entire Empire and beyond. Some even say he has the financial might to control the world itself. Thanks to this, he is a largely neglectful father to you, Lady Y/N.

⊹ Cecilia — The personal maid of you, Lady Y/N. The daughter of a lower Baron, and the only one that remained by your side amidst the accusations against you. She was executed for being involved with you and defending you. She is a kind young woman who cares deeply for those she serves.

⊹ Hyacinthe — The personal butler of you, Lady Y/N. A gentle man with wisdom far beyond his years. He has a good soul, though he is wary of you and your outbursts. However, that did not keep him from treating you well—he and Cecilia being the only two servants to grant you this courtesy out of the entire household.

⊹ Welt Yang — The Duke of the Yang Duchy. A calm and rational man who enjoys talking endlessly about any topic he’s interested in to anyone who will listen. Though he may seem aged, yet sprightly and kind, there is a calculating side to Duke Welt that earned him the position he has now.

⊹ Himeko Yang — The only and adopted daughter of Duke Welt, making her Himeko Yang in an official capacity. She is wise beyond her years and beautiful to boot—Lady Himeko had already taken the social world by storm at her debut, and she now rules it with an iron fist. Gossip is the best way to gather information, and after filtering out the hearsay, Lady Himeko is more than capable of knowing anything about anyone.

⊹ Herta — The Grand Mage of the Magic Tower. Though Sampo Koski is considered the “Mage of the Tower”, this is only because Herta finds it troublesome to be put in the spotlight—after all, attention on her only draws her own attention away from her research. She’s quite the recluse, only emerging once every few years to report important findings to the Emperor, if even that. Rumor has it that she’s immortal, with the face of a woman just barely of age and the mind of a Grand Master Mage with a lifespan in the hundreds already.

⊹ March — A young apprentice at the Magic Tower who endeavors to master her own ice magic after being rescued from an unmelting ice spell several years ago. There are rumors that she is friends with Dan Heng, the Imperial Librarian, but that could also just be due to her penchant to explore anywhere she pleases.

⊹ Asta — A senior mage at the Magic Tower. Assists Herta in all manner of things, which gives her quite a bit of stress. Manages a majority of the mages in the tower, especially due to Sampo’s incompetence on that front.

⊹ Arlan — Asta’s assistant in the Magic Tower, a mage in his own right. Asta’s stress from Herta quickly becomes his own, but he is dedicated to remaining her diligent guard and ally in the Tower.

⊹ Serval Landau — The Marchioness of the Landau Marquessate, an extremely capable woman, though she prefers to spend her time performing music disguised as a commoner rather than completing her duties. Despite this, she is good at her job and performs it seamlessly, keeping the Marquessate afloat and more. An extremely doting older sister to her brother, Gepard.

⊹ Bronya Rand — The sole heir to the Rand Duchy of the South. A kind-hearted young woman who has only recently come of age. The state of the South is beginning to improve now that she is making the transition to become Duchess ever since her mother, former Duchess Cocolia Rand, passed away in a fit of mania.

⊹ Seele — Duchess Bronya’s personal guard, a commoner who helped her depose former Duchess Cocolia. She has a sharp tongue and a keen eye, and while she’s quite blunt, it’s clear that she and Bronya get along like a house on fire.

⊹ Natasha — A quiet and charming physician from the South. There are talks of her becoming the official Imperial Physician due to her talent, but for now, she assists the common folk and the nobles wherever she is needed.

⊹ Yanqing — Emperor Jing Yuan’s closest retainer, who has also been designated his heir in secret to protect him from competition for the throne, making him Prince Yanqing in an official capacity. He is like a brother or a son to the great Emperor, and has an unusual penchant for swords and sword fighting both. An endearing child that gets along with almost everyone in the Xianzhou Empire, even before making his debut or coming of age.

⊹ Fu Xuan — The Duchess of the Clairvoy Duchy, and a great asset to Emperor Jing Yuan, assisting him with management of his armies thanks to her tactical prowess. She often pushes for him to name her his heir, unaware that he already has one hidden away.

⊹ Qingque — The daughter of a low-ranking noble who serves as an assistant to Duchess Fu Xuan. She's often caught slacking and playing games on her own, though, so many suspect that Lady Fu Xuan will demote her soon enough. Eccentric and kind.

⊹ Tingyun — One of Emperor Jing Yuan’s retainers, responsible for relations between the Xianzhou Empire and other nations. She’s quite charming, and has a habit of attempting to sweet-talk her way into benefits or advantages at work. Nonetheless, she is quite good at her job—her craftiness is one of the things that allows her to excel.

⊹ Yukong — The Marchioness of the Sky Marquessate and an indispensable asset to the Xianzhou Empire. Wise and gentle, the young woman is known for her ability to easily navigate business deals, society, land, and sea.

⊹ Xueyi — Heir to the Etho Duchy, Lady Xueyi currently works as a judge in legal matters within the Xianzhou Empire. She is extremely cold and decisive in her rulings and in her personality.

⊹ Bailu — The young lady of the Long Duchy who has uncanny alchemical abilities. She often heals those in the Xianzhou Empire free of charge, and is adored across the nation as an adorable young girl.

⊹ Luocha — A strange man who appeared to assist the clergy of the Destiny Faith. Though he claims to have come from the Xianzhou Empire, his entire existence seems an enigmatic mystery. Do be wary of him.

⊹ Elio — A mage shrouded in mystery who departed from the Magic Tower several hundred years ago—or, at least, that’s all Herta cared to explain about him. He was quite the gifted prodigy, but many of his achievements were hidden from the public eye. He has not been heard from by the public since, and is presumed deceased by the masses.

⊹ Silver Wolf — An unusual young woman who hasn’t yet debuted or come of age, though she is occasionally and rarely seen around the Capital. She partakes in the hidden information guilds that the Capital has to offer, but her origin and purposes are largely unknown. There is reason to suspect she is affiliated with the Destiny Faith.

⊹ ▉▉▉▉▉▉ — ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ⎓╎リ↸ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ℸ ̣ ∷⚍ℸ ̣ ⍑ ╎ᓭ ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ⎓╎リ↸ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ᒷリ↸. ↸𝙹 リ𝙹ℸ ̣ ꖎ𝙹𝙹ꖌ ⎓𝙹∷ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᔑℸ ̣ ∴⍑╎ᓵ⍑ ||𝙹⚍ ᔑ∷ᒷ リ𝙹ℸ ̣ ∷ᒷᔑ↸|| ℸ ̣ 𝙹 ᓭᒷᒷ

[sayakxmi]

I've certainly seen at least a few people headcanon that the dreambubbles have affected the dancestors behavior in some way, but I haven't seen any attempts at actually explaining how it could have possibly worked, so I've figured out I'd share my own theory.

Quick but necessary disclaimer first, though: none of this is canon. I'd say I'm being quite charitable here even calling it a theory, when in reality it's more like an AU. So by no means assume it's a hard rule or a definite explanation of what's going on. Personally, I see it as a bit of a cheat code that leaves me a lot of free room to write the dancestors closer to how I would've wanted them to be written, hence I'm sharing in case somebody wants to do a similar thing without truly contradicting the information we have in the source material. 

To start with, we can kind of scratch the idea that the dreambubbles prevent you from changing right off the bat, as we see at least three different characters go through some character development in spite of being dead and stuck there (Meenah, Aranea, Vriska). You could probably make it work if you really, really wanted that, but it doesn't seem all that plausible. 

So, if the issue isn't that you cannot change, perhaps the issue is that you change too much.

Let's start from the beginning - how do the dreambubbles work? Well, they allow for the ghosts to continue existing, as well as for the dreamers to wake up in there and interact with them or each other. How does the awakening happen, whether for the dead or the sleeping?

Through a memory.

Examples I can think of are:

1 - dead - doomed!Dave, playing a game, still in his triangular shades, until Aradia starts trolling him and eventually he realizes this is not actually real, so both his surroundings as well as appearance change to match what he remembers, until he reaches the realization that he is, in fact, dead, and blood appears on his body, too.

2 - sleeping - Terezi goes through a memory of her conversation with Vriska after she'd blinded her, and it takes her a moment to realize something is wrong, as well as that the person she was talking with wasn't even Vriska, but Aranea instead; it's more or less then, that her surroundings change.

In other words, one of the main pillars of the dreambubbles are memories.

But the thing is, memories are quite subjective and heavily influenced by the way we perceive things. So, if we assume that the perception of an event can affect the surroundings as well as your appearance and state (eg. dead!Eridan who still has his eyes, as he apparently hasn't realized he's dead), wouldn't it be possible for the perception of a person to affect their behavior?

The way I imagine it working is essentially a positive feedback loop. Regardless of whether it was true or not, from your perspective the person you interact with was a self-absorbed asshole who looked down on everybody, and tried to sound smart and objective when in reality they were just insulting everybody and to make themselves look better in comparison. 

It's possible you weren't the only person who thought that way or thought something similar (and there were already thousands of yous) and in the same manner the surroundings were adjusting to your thoughts, the person in front of you was also changing slightly to fit better the subconscious description you've had for them in your mind.

What if the person was a bit of a shameless flirt? Maybe they weren't all that serious about it, but you've always got the impression that all they've ever wanted to do is get into other people's pants. Or they were really passionate about horses, to the point where you've seriously thought it was all they cared about, hell, maybe they should've just been hatched as a fucking horse! Or they really loved to talk about shipping, as if nothing else was more important. Or in reverse, you've always seen that person as level-headed and respectable, in spite of them being actually pretty head-strong and at times just genuinely shitty. Or you've seen somebody as cool and assertive, when in reality they were extremely insecure and conflict-averse.

The more you see these people that way, the more their personalities shift to fit these descriptions, and the more they shift, the more confirmation you get about them being like you've always thought them to be, which ends up making these perceptions even stronger, and makes them behave even stronger in that specific way, which once again validates your perception of them, and… And it just keeps happening. 

Personally, I don't consider this to be a completely unavoidable process, especially when you're aware of this happening. But the real question is, is there actually a point? The dancestors have spent an eternity in the dreambubbles, surrounded by thousands of other versions of themselves, affected by all these various versions of each other. It's got to get tiring at some point to just remain so vigilant in differentiating your own thought patterns from what is something you wouldn't have actually thought in your right might. It's just… too much effort. Who even cares what becomes of you? Your world is gone, everybody around you is dead and just as tired of it all. Why bother?

Or in case you still want to retain the clarity of your mind, but without all that conscious effort, the only other option is to get as far from people as possible. The less ghosts around you, the less perceptions to affect you. That could explain how Meenah is… pretty normal, after staying away from everybody in the memory of her hive for however long she was there.

To sum it up, the dreambubbles are essentially the place where believing in something makes it less and less fake until it becomes real.

[skippyv20]

Kara Kennedy Spectator

Spectator

DON’T CALL IT A COMEBACKMeghan Markle’s comeback: welcome to the MeghanaissanceThe Duchess of Sussex is trying to salvage her reputation

May 4, 2023 | 9:31 amMeghan Markle MeghanaissanceWritten By:

Kara Kennedy

Maybe it was always going this way. After being a briefcase girl, an actress, a D-list celebrity and blowing it as a real-life royal, perhaps the only natural next step for Meghan Markle was to become an influencer. Look at Fergie, once married to Prince Andrew. Now the Duchess of York makes her living writing romance novels, selling jam and giving “exclusive” interviews to any tabloid that’ll buy her lunch.

The truth is that there is no glamor in being an ex-something. Look at the washed-up ex-wives and girlfriends of sports stars, selling herbal tea on Instagram for a few bucks and being paid to show up at crappy provincial nightclubs filled with teenagers. (It’s harder to be fussy when you need to pay the bills.) This, though, was not the future that Meghan expected when she and Harry decided to exile themselves to Los Angeles. She was to trade in her royal life to become the next Amal Clooney, spending her days fighting for women’s rights as a glamorous philanthropist attending the most exclusive Hollywood events. But it turns out that telling fibs and constantly scheming leaves you pretty low down on the LA thought-leader-cum-It-Girl list. Who knew?

By now, the downfall of Meghan Markle is well-documented, so I’ll skip the gory details and pick the story up at what you might call her lowest ebb: earlier this year, when her popularity with the British public plummeted to its lowest yet. According to a March poll, Meghan’s popularity dropped thirty-one points since November, leaving her with an approval rating of -33. The couple made the big move across the Pond with the hopes of cracking America, but things aren’t much better on this side. Just 27 percent of Americans say they like Meghan now, compared to 44 percent who say they don’t. It seems that the pair’s plan to speak “their truth,” in the form of Netflix documentaries, numerous interviews, podcasts and a book deal — and be lavished with money, praise and sympathy for doing so — isn’t quite going to plan.

There are different theories about what could save them at this point, if a PR resurrection is even possible. The Sussexes putting on a united front and attending the coronation of King Charles III on Saturday would have been a good start. After months of speculation, the couple announced in a recent statement that Harry would attend alone and Meghan would stay in California with their children to celebrate Archie’s fourth birthday. In fairness to Meghan, it’s highly likely that she would have faced considerable criticism had she shown up, after three years of what some call — fairly — her mission to destroy the reputation of the British monarchy. But King Charles was there for Meghan on her special day, her wedding in 2018, when he eschewed tradition and walked her down the aisle after her father Thomas Markle didn’t attend. To return the favor would be polite, if nothing else.

Does Meghan’s low-key few months mean she is retreating from the limelight for good? What do you think?

In January, when Harry released his memoir, Spare, Meghan was noticeably absent from the promotional interviews. At the time, people were shocked that the usually inseparable pair didn’t show up together to his many appearances. At the time, sources claimed that there was friction between the couple that stemmed from the negative reaction to the book. Whatever happened, Meghan’s presence by Harry’s side would have made things even more awkward for the renegade prince. Imagine her next to Harry during his interview with ITV’s Tom Bradby, in which he reneged on his wife’s claim that royal family was racist, saying instead that she was the victim of “unconscious bias.” The couple have long claimed that the royal family did nothing to dispel certain “press-concocted narratives” about them — yet for nearly three years they gladly allowed Harry’s family to be branded as pompous racists.

But does Meghan’s coronation snub and low-key approach to her husband’s book mean she is retreating from the limelight for good? What do you think?

It looks like Markle’s time out will soon be over as she gears up for a big return to public life. Last week it was revealed that the duchess had signed up with powerhouse agency WME that “will focus on building Meghan’s global enterprise.” Her team at the agency will include power agent turned Endeavor CEO Ari Emanuel, Brad Slater, the rep and brand architect within the agency for Dwayne Johnson, and Serena Williams’s agent Jill Smoller. Welcome to the Meghanissance. As the bestselling royal author Robert Jobson told me, “It can only be a good thing that Meghan is looking to revamp her public image — but it’ll mean actually listening to what her PR team tell her for once.”

In recent weeks the duchess has made two public appearances back to back; one in a video message introducing photographer and friend Misan Harriman ahead of his Ted Talk speech. In it, the duchess debuted a new look; darker, slickly straightened hair and minimal make-up. Meghan’s makeover held symbolic importance — straying away from her usual overdone look, she instead offered a more grown-up appearance. The second sighting was at a LA Lakers game, Harry in tow. It was the first time they had been seen in public together in more than a month and it didn’t do much to dispel rumors of a rift. The duchess awkwardly declined a kiss from Harry as they were captured on the jumbotron at the Crypto.com Arena in front of 20,000 people, including Kim Kardashian and Adam Sandler.

But if Meghan’s transition to an ex-royal influencer is to be successful, social media will prove vital. There are whispers in California that the duchess will soon return to Instagram, which she left in 2020 after it was agreed that the couple could no longer keep their Sussex Royal monogram. These rumors were alluded to last year when Meghan told a reporter at the Cut: “Do you want to know a secret? I’m getting back on Instagram” — but so far there is no sign of her on the app.

Meghan’s return would be sure to cause tension. As a report in the latest issue of Vanity Fair puts it, when the royal family modernized “the social media push put the royals at the hands of those watchers and the types of parasocial competition-pitting it seems to seize on and promote. Like Team Jen versus Team Angelina, or Liverpool versus Man United, aggressive and profane fights broke out between groups of self described Meghan and Kate fans. By late 2018, Cambridge versus Sussex had gone from digital match bait to reality.”

So how do the rest of the royals feel about this potential comeback? Apprehensive to say the least. One source close to the family tells me that Meghan’s vision is “luminous and quite frankly scary.” After Meghan and Harry’s relative silence last year the palace could finally breathe a sigh of relief, but then, in quick succession, came the Netflix documentary, that Jeremy Clarkson column and Harry’s memoir Spare. The Clarkson column blew up after he referenced an infamous Game of Thrones scene and casted Meghan Markle as Cersei. He wrote: “At night, I’m unable to sleep as I lie there, grinding my teeth and dreaming of the day when she is made to parade naked through the streets of every town in Britain while the crowds chant, ‘Shame!’ and throw lumps of excrement at her.” The ill-considered broadside against Meghan, for which he later apologized, hurt the royals the hardest, with soon-to-be Queen Camilla confiding in a friend that Clarkson was “so unhelpful, just as we were really getting on the front foot of all of this.”

While Markle may be able to scramble back into some Hollywood circles, it is unlikely to be quite as rarefied a crowd as she once hoped. Meanwhile, her relationship with the royal family is pretty near irreparable.

At this stage, there is little doubt about the palace’s feelings about her. As harmful as Meghan’s actions in the last year have been, a source close to the royals tells me that much of the damage was already done — and that the personal feelings of the late Queen loom large. According to my source, the Queen “saw through Meghan Markle” and remarked that she was “evil” during a drinks reception at a dinner the late monarch hosted at Balmoral in August last year.

‘It was out of character for the Queen to use such a word as “evil” to describe Meghan, but she saw straight through her’

“Everybody’s eyebrows hit the ceiling,” the source claimed. “It was out of character for the Queen to use such a word as “evil” to describe Meghan, but she saw straight through her. It was a startling sentence to hear from the most forgiving woman on earth.”

“At the drinks before the dinner, a small group were talking to the monarch and she explained that Harry meeting Meghan had become a complete catastrophe and described her as evil. By this point we all knew the Queen’s health was in decline and she had months left, she seemed regretful about how things had panned out.”

Throughout the last three years Meghan and Harry have consistently claimed that there was no bad blood between them and the monarch, but this has often been disputed. Biographer Tom Bower’s latest book Revenge: Meghan, Harry And The War Between The Windsors cites unnamed sources that claim the Queen once remarked of her husband’s funeral: “Thank goodness Meghan is not coming.” Royal watchers believe that Meghan and Harry’s reservations to implicitly blame Queen Elizabeth for any of the wrongdoings of the royal family was an intentional move in order to return to royal life if they ever needed to — but the more we hear of the Queen’s supposed feelings, the less likely that seems.

At this stage, Harry and Meghan continuing to cash in by bad-mouthing the Firm seems more likely than a reconciliation. Entertainment Tonight reported earlier this year that Harry had a lucrative four-book deal with Penguin Random House, the publisher behind his tell-all, that’s worth $35-$40 million. It is rumored that at least one of these books will be written by the duchess. Even if she doesn’t put pen to paper, Meghan is reportedly resurrecting her lifestyle blog “the Tig,” after the New York Post reported that there was a document filed with the US Patent and Trademark Office, that indicates a prospective relaunched version of the site. I hope the content will have improved from last time, where she jotted down posts about her meditation guru, who was called Light, or how much she loves the book Eat, Pray, Love.

After it was announced that Meghan wouldn’t attend the coronation, her PR team insisted she has “moved on” and is “going about her life in the present.” As we all know, a Hollywood lifestyle for two ex-royals is expensive — and whatever they choose to do, they’ll need to find a way to pay for it.

ByKara Kennedy

Kara Kennedy is a staff writer for The Spectator World. She comes from Wales and resides in London

Thank you🙂❤️

[joyandthephantoms]

and it must hurt to throw a fist and be the one to take the hit

1k, T, Caleb & Nick

Warnings: murder, abuse, referenced restriction of food/sleep, Caleb Covington

Killing him is the obvious solution. The ghost Nick au I've been wanting to write for months now.

ao3 link

The possession endeavor is, put simply, extremely disappointing.

Caleb had such high hopes for this, and Nick fails to meet a single one of his expectations. To begin with, he’s nowhere near close enough to Julie for Caleb to effectively infiltrate her life, and while Caleb has more than his fair share of charm, the girl is surprisingly resistant to letting him any further into her circle. (There are many factors at play, but among them, Caleb blames Luke, the Wilson girl, and the absolutely undeserved influence of their jealousy. Teenagers are exhausting.)

Even more exhausting is the constant maintenance required by a human body. It’s impossible to get anything done when Caleb has to constantly eat and sleep, and when skipping those things makes the body an incredible pain to maneuver, on top of inhibiting Caleb’s ability to focus.

It’s remarkably annoying, especially because cutting Nick off from food and rest and sunlight would, in theory, make for excellent punishment when he tries to fight Caleb, but Caleb is wholly unable to hurt Nick in this way without undermining himself. The whole thing is deeply inconvenient.

Perhaps most frustrating of all is the way residing in Nick severely limits Caleb’s access to all the ghostly powers he’s grown used to. An entire arsenal of skills, an entire art that he’s carefully practiced at, entirely out of his reach, all because Nick’s weak, stubborn body insists on remaining bound to the material world and all its primitive laws.

Suffice it to say, it’s clear after only a few short weeks that Caleb needs to ditch this body and this plan altogether. This, however, comes with its own complications: he’s been in Nick’s head, and as much as he’s tried to shove his consciousness as far back as possible, he’s sure the child has picked up on a not-insignificant portion of Caleb’s plans for Julie’s little hologram band. Caleb can’t very well free Nick and allow him to run straight to the phantoms to spill all his secrets.

Killing him is the obvious solution. Either Nick will die completely on the first try, or he’ll pull one last desperate attempt at making something of himself and reappear as a ghost, in which case it will take little more than a snap of Caleb’s fingers to be rid of him for good. While controlling Nick’s physical body has presented some challenges, Caleb is very confident in his ability to eliminate undesirable ghosts, Julie Molina and her power of love nonsense notwithstanding.

But Nick, as it turns out, comes with a number of his own unpleasant surprises.

It’s not killing him that’s hard. It’s a simple matter, stopping his heart—so simple that it’s laughable that Nick ever thought he could fight Caleb at all, when Caleb has been capable of this all along.

What’s less simple is dealing with the aftermath. Caleb was prepared for Nick to come back as a ghost; he’d factored that into his plans—he’d even floated the idea that maybe he wouldn’t need to kill him right off, maybe he could find some use for him; it never hurts to have another pawn on the board.

He wasn’t quite prepared for how angry Nick would be. It’s natural, of course, to be upset at such an untimely death, but Nick has always been pliable, weak-willed. Pathetic. The sort of unbridled, fierce rage he displays doesn’t suit him. Nick is built for hallway spats with his ex-girlfriend, for silent seething at uncomfortable family events. For earnest apologies on the rare occasions he truly loses his temper. Not for this burning fury, this determination Caleb didn’t think him capable of, this unrelenting need to strike back at the source of his pain, to do some real damage.

It wouldn’t be such a problem under ordinary circumstances. Caleb could easily rein him in if it weren’t for the second nasty surprise: he can’t hurt him.

Well. He can, technically. He tries, and it’s all perfectly standard at first: a stamp on the boy’s wrist, a snap of his fingers, and then—sudden, blinding pain, like a lightning rod thrust through Caleb’s chest. Stars scattered across his vision. Nick, in front of him, doubled over but glowing with sick triumph as he coughs.

A realization that this is going to be far more complicated than he had hoped.

It had been such a long time since Caleb had had need for possessing anyone, and he’s never before had to deal with someone in the afterlife whom he’d puppeteered in life; there had been no warning that the time they spent in the same body would tangle their souls together in such a way that Caleb still can’t hurt Nick without hurting himself.

He’s certain that he’s stronger than Nick, that he can withstand much more than him, so the jolts are still available as a back-pocket solution, glass to break in case of emergency, but Caleb would really prefer not to weaken himself with so many enemies about.

So he’s stuck in this impossible predicament, wasting valuable resources just trying to keep Nick in line, relying fully on his words to do the job—reminding Nick that he’s nothing, that he’s worthless even as a vessel, that he’s only a stupid child no matter how hard he wants to play at revenge, may only make him angrier in the short term, but Caleb is playing a long game. He’ll break him eventually.

Still, it’s exhausting, being so limited in his methods of control, having to occupy a third of his staff with the simple task of keeping the kid from running off or building a bomb or sabotaging as many of Caleb’s performances as he can, expending massive amounts of energy that he would greatly prefer to direct elsewhere.

He comes upon a solution completely coincidentally. It has nothing to do with Nick, at first, though he lurks in the background as Caleb reprimands Willie. Caleb has, for the most part, opted to simply ignore Nick when he isn’t doing any active damage. It’s far less draining than trying to get rid of him all the time.

Willie makes the mistake of trying to walk away, and Caleb catches him by the forearm, nails pressed against his skin. It’s a warning, nothing more, but behind him, Nick flinches. Caleb decides not to ignore it.

He leans closer, murmurs in Willie’s ear loud enough to be overheard, “I don’t think you want to test me right now. Do you, William?” Willie is tense, breath caught in his throat, but that’s not what Caleb is looking for. He’s looking past him, to see Nick staring, wide-eyed and pale and frightened, at last playing the kicked puppy Caleb expected him to be from the start.

“No,” Willie says, defeated. “Of course not.”

“Good.” Caleb releases his arm, takes a step back. Pauses a moment, then flicks his wrist sharply, causing Willie to collapse with a grunt. Nick tries to swallow a shout. Caleb doesn’t bother hiding his grin.

It’s just too good. The perfect way to get a handle on this Nick situation, all wrapped up with a bow. Nick has no connection to Willie, no real reason to be concerned with his wellbeing, only a bleeding heart and a growing guilt complex and a childish ignorance of the fact that really, the only things he’ll gain by caring are vulnerabilities.

Vulnerabilities Caleb is beyond excited to exploit, because finally, finally, he has Nick exactly where he wants him.

[muircannon43]

bandicut 3.6 6.676 crack

If you're a online marketer and have never heard of My Video Talk then you must be even though it a bubble. There is reference to this video marketing platform everywhere, and it continues to gain influence with the masses just about every day. I myself am a big fan of video, even so really wanted to dissect vehicle and see what the hype was all about. Let's check out this new phenomenon taking the Internet by storm! Almost every real estate agency around australia has a e-mail list for sending out new listings and keeping in along with potential sellers and buyers. This should be a starting point every time you produce another video training. Our HD Showcases can be embedded inside bandicut an easy email and sent to all of your companies potential customers. Instantly you can expose your household video to hundreds not really thousands of potential warm. The 8 megapixel camera on the iPhone 4S will permit you to record 1080p HD videos at 30 frames per second. When lighting comes to mind, you will never want to worry about insufficient lighting fixture. The phone along with an advanced backside illumination sensor too as larger aperture use the printer allow the lens to permit in more light. Might also discover enjoy more from temporal noise reduction that permits you to record high-quality HD videos in poor lighting symptoms. Lastly, improved auto white balance will make colors look more suitable. There are three major categories of skill #. You deal with people, things and data everyday. In each category, this requires a skill or connected with several attainments. You might not even realize the extent of one's ability a great area. May possibly know the pain you are not able to or true don't like doing, but pinpointing exact skills isn't necessarily effortless. Let Your Assets Carry out the Work: The particular of the tribute video is to celebrate a life, a family maybe, a sports team perhaps perhaps an event - so let your visuals perform the work. Is essential the photos and/or motion picture are in good shape, meaning make certain you have selected in-focus images and that your have made any quite a few proper contrast and saturation adjustments with your photo and video editing program. If you might be new to computers, I don't recommend a PC as nevertheless very fantastic at making an easy task very technical and frustrating. It always perceived to me each and every time I installed brand new software I would personally need execute 50 other things just in order to it jobs. From installing other software to restarting my computer ten stretches. Choosing a venue rrn your video additionally be important. Newcomers can start in a public community video channel, where they could rack standing on the thinks about. Be bandicut Full Crack and positive to comments as almost as much as possible. Additionally important location a brand on your videos that a watermark or 'tokens'. Even the username of the uploader also matters. Much more positive make your account, guaranteed that the manufacturer name can be as recognizable you are able to. In video marketing, get to guaranteed that your viewers does make a outcomes of the video and vehicles.

[ddosie]

# 2 and soobin for the prompt please!

you wouldn't say you were the sentimental type.

things came and went. kids grew into adults. that was just how life was. people grew apart, sometimes closer, and it was all expected.

you just never thought you would have to face it yourself.

it was a problem that you had only read about in story books. the handmaiden watches the price she fell in love with get married. she moves on. the king lets go of the memories of his favorite knight. he moves on. the queen loses her son, her only son. she moved on.

they all moved on. so why couldn't you?

"class! class! let's start this school year by introducing ourselves! i'll go first. my name is ms. hilton, and i'm your english teacher for this year! i've worked at this school for a long time now, and i can't wait to teach all of you kids!

okay, now that i've done my introduction, shall we go along the classroom and introduce ourselves? starting from you sir, yes you with the white and black sneakers. please start by telling us your name and a fun fact about yourself."

you watched as the said boy stood up, pushing his hair back with his hand.

"uh... hi everyone, i'm soobin, and one fun fact about me is i went to Europe this year."

as the next person got up to introduce themselves, you found yourself staring at him.

jeez, he was tall for a middle schooler.

the sun is filtering through the blinds in your room, and rays of light are being painted across the walls. everything is a golden color, from the desk to the bedside.

"so... what topic are we choosing for this project?" you watched through the lens of your glasses as soobin furrowed his brow.

"do you think, maybe aristotle?" you nodded your head eagerly, so soobin stood up and walked over to the teachers desk. a second later he sent you a thumbs up.

"aristotle it is."

you twirled your pen in your fingers as soobin took a seat. "hey do you want to work on the project with me over the weekend? i know a really good café...?"

there was a small smile on your face, and you nodded.

"yeah sure, what time?"

you got up from your chair, grabbing a camera. in this lighting, the room was just too pretty to not take a picture of.

"y/n, for someone of that height, there is no reason you should be walking that fast."

you sent a small smile to the long-legged boy trying to catch up with you in the hallway.

"if you don't want to be late to class bin, you're going to have to put those legs to work."

you let soobin catch up with you, and you slowed down your pace from thereon so the two of you could walk side by side. soobin pointed at the trophy shelf.

"do you think we'll win this year too? i hope we do, yeonjun promised a party at his house if we get placed first."

you gave soobin a reassuring pat on his arm.

"you'll be finneee... if you win, i'll take you out to icecream after."

the boy turned to look at you, a smile creeping into his eyes.

"really?"

"really."

fiddling around with the camera, you brushed the light dust that had collected on the top off. you watched as the particles were swept away, dancing in the dying sunlight.

"we should do this every year."

you turned to look at soobin lying next to you, ice-cream sandwhich in one hand, while the other was tucked behind him, supporting his head. he was looking above, admiring the night sky.

"you mean climb some random apartment stairs to get to rooftops? and risk our lives every season game to see a different view of the city at night?"

soobin let out a small laugh. "yeah, well when you put it that way, it does sound bad." you smiled, lying down with your own ice-cream sandwich, propping an arm under your head.

"...i meant the icecream tradition. you'll be there for my next season game, right?"

now it was your turn to admire the night sky.

"of course. i wouldn't miss it for the world"

grabbing a tissue, you went to work at the camera, cleaning dust from all crevices and corners of the lenses. you were surprised. when was the last time you had even taken a photo on this thing?

"hey bin, what's up?"

grabbing your phone and placing it on your desk, you made yourself comfortable, ready for any facetime tea he would spill.

"ah, y/n..." you watched as he ran a hand through his hair from the other side of the screen. "i don't think... i don't think i'll be able to make it to your birthday this year."

there was a quiet silence. you felt like you'd been punched in the gut.

"if i can ask, um, why?" you fiddled with the hem of your hoodie, waiting for an answer.

"the schedules for the basketball game lineups just came out, and the final season game is happening on your birthday. i just wanted to tell you in case we do win that far and i won't be able to come."

you decided to smile at the way soobin had said just in case they win. the two of you were in your sophomore year, and he hadn't lost a game since middle school.

"yeah, don't worry about it soob. we can still get icecream after."

you felt a turn in your stomach when the boy gave you a relived smile, running a hand through his hair again.

"that's all i wanted to say, i've got to go now"

"hm? why?"

"chem tutoring. these freshman are horrible at science."

adjusting the camera, you zoomed in on random objects in your room. the bookshelf. your water bottle. the lamp. click. click. click.

“did you hear? that senior yeonjun will be throwing a bigger party than last year! are you going y/n?”

you shrugged. “when is it?”

“I think it‘ll be this saturday.”

"can’t. I’ll be out of town”

"for what?

“college. I sent an early application, and one of them reached out and wants me to tour the campus. if i go, I’ll have a guaranteed spot next year, and I probably won’t have to apply to any others.”

your friend let out a low whistle and patted your head.

"well when you put it like that, I guess you really can’t go… but maybe we could get something after the game? i heard the ice cream place was still open”

just like that, a mere sentence felt like a silent punch to the gut.

you looked away from your friends face, scanning the cafeteria unknowingly. you were met with the view of a senior tussling soobin's hair, an arm slung across his neck. you could hear their loud conversation even from where you were sitting.

"you coming to my house after the game? me and the guys we're planning to get some icecream and stay over at my house for the night."

you thought you saw something flash in soobins eye's before he smiled, nodding in agreement.

abruptly standing up, you tossed an apology to your friend about how you wouldn't be able to make it and you had just remembered you had some important emails to send. you didn't want to be around when the words of confirmation came out of his mouth itself.

so much for a flash. the last time you had icecream with him was two years ago.

adjusting the lens once more, you caught your eye on a ticket stuck between two books on your desk. you slowly pulled it out. it was blue and grey, your school colors. there was a hole punched on the bottom, indicating it was used.

"and it's the last two minutes of the game, and hybe high is in the lead! if they can make this basket, it will guarantee a regional win for the school. oh! there goes hyunjin... passing to donghyuck who... also just passed to eric who, jeez, passed to soobin...! look at that! look at that!! we are in the last minute everyone, and if captain of hybe high makes this basket, like i said they will be the regional winners!!"

you let the sound of the announcer wash over you, leaning forward in your seat to watch the game.

for some reason you kept coming back. to this gym. to the basketball games.

to soobin.

it had been over a year since the two of you had really talked, the last icecream run being well over three years ago (a promise to go before your birthday was conveniently broken), and the last facetime was to ask for calculus answers.

you knew that you had faded out of the life of the star basketball player.

you just couldn't accept it.

"and soobin gets closer to the rim... oh! it looks like taehyun from bighit acadmy is a pretty good blocker... anyways look at him go! we have twenty second left, and even if he doesn't score hybe is still in for a win... okay, okAY?? WAIT WHAT!! WHAT!!"

there's a loud screech of the intercom that mixes with the cheers of the crowd. you found yourself on your feet, fists pumping in the air in celebration alongside the students in the bleachers despite yourself.

"AND CHOI SOOBIN SECURES THE PLACE OF HYBE HIGH IN DISTRICT REGIONALS!! ONCE AGAIN THE ACE HAS TOPPED EVERYONE AND BRANG HIS TEAM TO VICTORY!!"

you held the ticket tenderly. on the backside was stamped senior, a marker that counted as a discount for the upperclassmen that wanted to watch the game. flipping it over again, you felt a wave of something hit your stomach as you took in the grey and blue.

"hey y/n, wait up!"

you whipped around at the sound of an all too familiar voice.

there, stood soobin, in all his six foot and one inch glory.

"you.." he panted, hands on his knees as if he had run a million miles. "you walk too fast. what's the rush? you were cheering for me so loudly."

there was that feeling again. of being punched in the gut. by that invisible hand that seemed to favor your stomach whenever soobin was around.

"ah, you know... just getting home."

you tried not to stare too long. soobin had grown, matured. the baby face he donned as a middle schooler was gone, only his dimples a reminder of the childhood smiles you shared together.

"you're not... going anywhere? going straight home?"

you gave him a small smile. "...yeah. i'm going soon, so i really need to pack. good game though! you really did good this time around."

"going soon... to where y/n? are you taking a road trip without me?" you sensed a wary tone under his teasing words. three years apart, and this was the news you would have to tell him. curse the fates.

"yup! im, ah... moving cross country. i got accepted a while back."

you could already see the question in his eyes. how far? which major? on campus or near?

why didn't you tell me?

there was a moment of silence while you rocked back and forth on your heels. soobin pushed his hair back, looking into your eyes.

the heaviness of a thousand unanswered questions weighed in the air.

"so... want to catch up over icecream?"

as you held the basketball ticket from senior year, you realized three things.

one: you were the sentimental type. you clung onto old memories and good times like they were life jackets, keeping you afloat in the mundanity of your new life.

two: you didn't really like the idea of always moving on. it seemed so easy in the story books, that after a couple years the queen goes back to her ordinary life, the king appoints a new knight, and the princess finds someone she truly loved. but was there a time where you would just stop caring? was there a day you would wake up and didn’t think about what could have happened, the if only’s and what if’s?

three: you couldn't move on. you prided yourself on being able to move faster, walking a pace before everyone else. life was a journey, and you were going places. quite literally. you were floating when everyone was sinking.

but you were only floating because you had your life jacket.

...

things came and went. kids grew into adults. that was just how life was. people grew apart, sometimes closer, and it was all expected.

you clutched the ticket in your hand, the end slightly wrinkled by your fingers.

you just never thought you would have to face it yourself.

[thewhitefluffyhat]

Thoughts on Deltarune Chapter 2

I wasn't even intending to write a Deltarune post, but here we are!

Have some extended ramblings/theorizing about Undertale, Deltarune, and the role of the "Player" vs character agency.

[Warning: full spoilers for ALL routes in both Undertale and Deltarune!]

.

Frisk’s Agency in Undertale

So I'm not sure how common this is nowadays (I haven't been following Undertale theories for a while), but I personally prefer the interpretation that there is no "Player" as an in-universe force in Undertale. I think it's a far more elegant story if the fourth wall isn't broken.

I'm also fond of the Narrator Chara and "Chara isn't pure evil until Murder Route teaches them to be" interpretations too.

And, of course, the third plank bridging those two is that I don't see Frisk as a just a pure, innocent cinnamon roll.

Because I like the story best when it's Frisk who chooses mercy or murder. It gives Frisk a much more complex character, if they are allowed to have the capacity for both immense kindness and immense cruelty. It even gives them an interesting implied character arc, if you take the natural progression path of True Pacifist > Murder Fun Times > Soulless Pacifist.

Just like Flowey, Frisk first tried to use their powers of Determination for good, but eventually they also grew curious and began to see the world as a game. And then they went too far and ultimately regretted it. Regretted it so much, in fact, that they were willing to sell their soul for just a chance to fix it.

After all, it's not you, the "Player," whose SOUL Chara wants. It's you, Frisk.

I also dislike the idea of an in-universe "Player" because that implies that "Frisk" is nothing but an empty shell - on ALL routes. All of those heartwarming moments in the True Pacifist route? All of the silly Flirt actions? Yeah, that's not Frisk, that's just as much the "Player" puppeting some poor kid's body as the events of the Bad Times.

Who knows what Frisk is truly like if their every action - good or ill - is controlled by some unseen, eldritch force? Now Frisk no longer has any characterization.

And given that said force overrides Frisk's agency, then isn't the "Player" evil no matter which route you take? It's become a story where they only "moral" choice is never to pick up the game at all. Hrm.

Anyway, but that's all Undertale. Which brings me to...

What the heck is going on in Deltarune?

Unlike Frisk=the Red SOUL in Undertale, we don't seem to control Kris=the Red SOUL in Deltarune. The game repeatedly underlines that the player only controls the Red SOUL, not Kris.

(Though, with stuff like the sound of the bathroom faucet only being audible when Kris's actual body is nearby - it seems like even when separated, the Red SOUL may still be perceiving through Kris's other senses besides sight...?)

With Spamton's dialogue and Kris's reaction after the non-Weird NEO fight, there's also a lot more emphasis in Deltarune of Kris (and the rest of the party!) being puppeted by some other force. And that's on top of all the stuff in the first chapter highlighting Kris/the Red SOUL's lack of agency.

Because of all those hints, Deltarune seems to be much more explicitly pointing toward that dark interpretation of Undertale - that the "Player"/Red SOUL is removing Kris's agency, regardless of route.

Indeed, I'm somewhat intrigued by the possibility that we/the Red SOUL might be forcing Kris to act nice just as much as we force them to act cruel. The way that Kris deliberately removes the Red SOUL in order to do some very suspicious actions might support that. As do some comments in Chapter 1, like characters in the post-Dark World walkaround noting how Kris is being less weird and more inquisitive than usual. Maybe Kris is the Knight and the Red SOUL is possessing them to undo their evil actions. Maybe the real Kris doesn't want to be friends with Susie and Ralsei at all!

But taking that interpretation to such an extreme also doesn't quite fit. Why does Kris slash the tires on Toriel's car? The only reason I can think of is that they want to keep Susie at their house. And why does Kris create the Dark World in their house? Is Kris creating the fountains because they want to have fun with friends? Especially right after the chapter emphasized how great the Dark World adventures were, that seems very likely.

There are also some smaller details too, of Kris interpreting the Red SOUL's input with their own spin (like saying things sarcastically), or of Kris chatting in a friendly way with Ralsei which the player/SOUL can't influence.

So, I'm pretty sure that even outside of the Red SOUL's control, Kris genuinely does like their friends.

Meanwhile, there were a lot of hints this chapter that Something Bad happened to Kris, Noelle, Dess, and Asriel when they went exploring in the forest by the graveyard. Most likely, they went into that ominous bunker south of the town. Is that incident related to Kris’s current strangeness?

And then, and THEN, there's the Snow Mercy route. That route seems to imply that the Red SOUL is both evil, and very much not Kris. Noelle says Kris isn't like themself, that their voice changes strangely, and she can still hear the creepy voice even when Kris is downed.

How to make sense of this all?

A Theory on Kris and the Red SOUL

One idea is that as scary and zombie-like as Kris looks without the SOUL, they're probably a nice, if lonely kid who desperately wants friends after their big brother went to college. (And possibly after something traumatic happened to them/their neighbor.) They're creating the Dark Worlds for the sake of fun and escapism.

But the Red SOUL puts an end to Kris's happy fantasies. Indeed, if the Red SOUL gives up, "the world is covered in darkness." So without the Red SOUL, would Kris simply keep creating fountains...? (What ARE the fountains, why can Kris and theoretically any Lightener create them?)

Maybe in the normal route, the Red SOUL is trying to gently help Kris move on and accept reality in some way. At the very least, I suspect Ralsei is working toward this goal.

But in that case... that's a pretty strange way for the Red SOUL to go about it, forcibly taking control of Kris to the point that the kid notices and seems to greatly resent it.

But what if the Red SOUL didn't have a choice about this arrangement either?

After all, the Red SOUL's customized vessel was discarded at the start of Chapter 1... and it was placed into Kris instead.

Here's a question: will Kris die if they're without a SOUL for too long?

Because there are an awful lot of moments in these games where characters break free of something they are bound to, but it doesn't end well: -Spamton collapses when his strings are cut. -The Darkeners can move freely outside their origin world for a while, but eventually turn to statues if they stay in another world. -Regardless of whether Berdly removes the Queen’s wires himself, he's exhausted and unable to fight any more after being under her control. -And when Kris takes the Red SOUL out of their body, their movements become slow and clumsy. Like it's a struggle for them to move at all.

Meanwhile in Undertale, post-Pacifist Asriel could maintain his form to say goodbye, but without SOUL(s), he inevitably returns to being Flowey.

So here's a theory: Kris died and/or lost their original soul. Perhaps due to some action/inaction on Noelle's part in the exploration incident. And as a last-ditch resort to keep them alive, the Red SOUL was somehow implanted in Kris.

(Also maybe Dess died/went missing at the same time...?)

And now, the Red SOUL the only thing keeping Kris around. 

But just like in Undertale, it seems like Deltarune SOULs have wills of their own.

Which means Kris's current state is similar to the Chara-Asriel fusion, or Omega Flowey, or even Frisk-Chara. Control of the body is shared. The difference is that instead of the SOUL we play representing the original owner/will of the body, this time the SOUL we're playing as is the intruder.

Essentially, this time around we are playing the role of the Chara-equivalent instead of the Frisk-equivalent!

(Though whether Kris themself is more of Chara or Frisk I’ll leave to other theorists...)

Anyway, while Kris likely wishes to be rid of the SOUL and dislikes this whole body sharing arrangement, they know they can't survive without it. And perhaps Kris being in a partially soulless state might explain why they do questionable stuff like creating Dark Worlds and slashing their mom's car tires in order to play with their friends. (Again, see also: Asriel/Flowey.)

But when the Red SOUL and Kris are in alignment, things go okay. The Red SOUL suggests commands, but Kris is willing to follow and seems to enjoy being with Susie and Ralsei.  

Let’s Talk About Snow Mercy

It's when the Red SOUL and Kris aren't in alignment... well. That seems to be what's happening in the Snow Mercy route. That kind of situation sure didn't go so hot with Frisk and Chara in Undertale, so I doubt this will end nicely for Kris and the Red SOUL either. At the very least, Kris seems to have been visibly upset after what happened with Noelle in this route.

(By the way, there are two other moments in Chapter 2 when Susie asks if Kris is okay - first after the normal Spamton NEO fight and subsequent discussion of what it meant and second after she and Kris approach the bunker.

Three different moments, but Kris appears to react similarly. Are all of these things related? The bunker, Kris being puppeted, and the events of the Snow Mercy route?)

Meanwhile, here’s a contrast. Undertale's Murder Route seemed to exist for the sake of curiosity and power - either the "Player" or Frisk's desires, whichever interpretation you subscribe to. And the changes to the world were all logical consequences of that - because of the Fallen Child's rampage, friendly NPCs disappear, major characters fight you more seriously, etc.

But the actions in Snow Mercy are... weirdly specific, weirdly unpredictable. It doesn't come across as a simple power trip. Instead, Snow Mercy is a bunch of really bizarre actions that feel even more mysterious to the player as they are to Noelle and Kris. I sure wouldn't have guessed that backtracking to the trash heap and freezing a bunch of enemies would lead to new items spontaneously appearing and then giving Noelle access to a scary new spell. It's like something straight out of a creepypasta!

The overall tone that comes across to me is that the Red SOUL seems to know what it's doing, even while the player is kept in the dark. And given Noelle's responses, it almost seems like the SOUL is trying to remind her of events/actions from her past, events which are obviously unknown to the player. All of which leads me to think that the Red SOUL has motives and goals of its own... so just like Undertale, this probably isn't a situation of the "Player" being a fourth wall-breaking force either.

The Red SOUL is its own character.

And I'm certainly curious to find out more about them!

[revenant-dumpster-fire]

Hunter (Revenant x Reader)

Part 1 of 2 of the chapter “Hunter & Prey”. [Full chapter on AO3.]

Theme: The trios game is here, and Revenant's plan comes to fruition after days of planning.

Warnings: Male dominance, threats of violence, descriptions of violence, sharp objects, pain, bipolar, depression, mania, fluff.

Reader's Notes: Revenant (Apex Legends) x Reader, reader is female.

Writing Notes: Can I write non-fluff? Maybe? Or perhaps I need to maximize fluff to balance? I guess you'll find out.

Navigation:

First Chapter | Previous Part (Styptic & Canine)  | Next Part (Hunter & Prey)

Revenant manages to wake you up in the middle of the night with nothing but his incessant nuzzles and purring. His new chassis may be deluxe, but he can't seem to control how much he wants to show off all its features. He's holding you from behind, completely enveloping you in a warm hold, his nuzzles starting on the back of your neck and making their way around to the side of your neck. You've definitely slept some, but not quite enough to feel awake.

You reach up and begin lightly petting the top of his snout. His bovine skull emits a long, deep purr that can only be described as a very happy growl. He almost seems to be in a trance in his new body, as if something in the code is different, and he's acting out of something reminiscent of instinct. It's nice. He's almost like one of his prowlers. You extend your snout pets to reach from nose to the top of his head, and his purrs extend to last the length of each stroke. He leans into your pets, hoping for a firmer touch, which you try your best to comply with.

You roll over to face him, causing him to pull away a little. He looks at you with a little concern initially, like you might be upset, but you quickly quell him by holding his visage in both of your hands, pulling it close to yours. In truth, you're not sure what you're doing, but you can tell he likes it. His new silicone tongue licks your nose lightly, surprising you but not enough to make you pull away. He definitely has some software changes, whether he realizes it or not. He's definitely acting more like an animal. You slip your hands down to feel his giant mane, made of locks of fur. It feels both soft and fluffy; you can't help but run your fingers between each lock as you pet it. You work out any tangles you find, causing him to purr with delight over the free grooming. The tip of his nasal cavity presses into your nose, intentionally tickling you with his breaths.

"You should sleep," he manages to get out in his purrs.

"Nah, I'm just going to be watching the game tomorrow. You're the one who has to work." You whisper to him, massaging his neck through his fur.

He sighs a small moan at your massage, clearly giving up on his request in favor of getting more affection. He reaches out and holds your waist, softly brushing your sides in return. His head tilts up, revealing his throat. You carefully move your hand to touch it, moving all the way from the tip of his chin down to his clavicle with a soft touch. His breathing slows as you caress him, turning his purr into a low hum and vibrating in your hand. Eventually, his maw opens up, emitting a scary but relaxed hum and revealing his fangs. He's clearly enjoying every moment of it.

"Little skinsuit." You hear him mutter quietly. You pause for a moment, acknowledging him. He closes his mouth and locks eyes with you, pushing his nose into your face and huffing in it. He doesn't immediately speak, just nuzzles you on the side of your face, intentionally breathing into your ear to get you to wince from the tickling feeling. He shoves his tongue right on your face, licking you like a dog.

"Ack, what is it?" You lift your hands up to your face to defend your face from further onslaught. He pushes his snout into your hands and licks them instead. "Rev... Are you okay?"

He stops, pushing his snout through your hands and touching the tip of your nose.

"What are you supposed to taste like?" He finally utters. You're a bit taken aback by his question.

"I don't really know, why? Do I taste strange?"

"Honeysuckle. That's what I taste." He pulls you right into him, enveloping your whole body. "I haven't had a real tongue in so long. I don't remember what anything is supposed to taste like anymore." He sounds saddened by his conclusion, but you can't get your hands free to comfort him. You shove your face in his mane instead, snuggling up against him. You struggle to find any words to say, but try to come up with something.

"Hey, Revenant?" He doesn't respond, but it's safe to assume you have his attention. "I like you no matter what." You retreat into his mane as deep as your face can go, unsure of how he will react.

You feel his body heat up, and his claw cup the back of your head. His head tucks around your shoulder, and his legs surround you to pull you into his frame. His spare arm wraps around you, and his body starts to rattle in a purr. You carefully wrap your hands around his waist and softly caress it, unable to press into it like his other body with leather allows. You're stuck otherwise, so you make a small kissing gesture and noise into his mane, unsure if he hears you.

"Sleep, my little skinsuit. Before you convince me to forfeit this game." He purrs in your ear, brushing your hair with his fingers. You're not sure what he means; you've asked him to do no such thing, but you let yourself snuggle up against his heat, easily drifting to sleep as he coos at you.

• • • •

You wake up in a mess of damp fur, mouth open and now dry as a desert. You close your mouth and pull your face away from the sopping mats of fur, emitting a sound similar to a snore as you breathe through your nose again.

"Didn't realize you'd be the one to get me wet, skinsuit." Revenant teases, running his claws through his soaked mane. "Your dreams must be real fun for you to drool all over me like that." You snap to as you realize what you've done.

"Oh no, I'm sorry!" You pull away and try to dry him off with the sheets, to no avail.

"Don't be sorry, this is perfect." You ignore him, sitting up to dry him off at a better angle. He lets you, but you quickly abandon the sheet and go grab a towel from the bathroom. As you rub into his mane, he looks up with you with something that feels like a smile, but you can't be sure. Either way, he seems to be enjoying it. He lets you continue as he slowly sits up, leaning into your rubs and purring under his breath. You get as much of your drool out of his mane as possible, but eventually you finally have to give up and pull the towel away.

Revenant makes his way out of bed, satisfied by your work, although you don't feel the same. He stands tall over you, looking down at you with curiosity and adoration. He pushes his hand into your hair and rustles it.

"Don't look so dejected, you didn't ruin anything." He reads your mind; you feel like you've destroyed his favorite chassis with drool of all things. "Trust me, I was banking on you making a mess. It'll all work out in my favor. Shut off your little brain and let me do the thinking, just trust me." His voice growls seductively as he pokes the tip of your nose with his claw.

"Now, go eat before I force feed you. Your girlfriend should be here in an hour or so to watch the match with you." His voice is so smooth but growly. "I need to go prepare. Take care of yourself, skinsuit. I expect you here when I get back." And with that, he turns heels and confidently glides out the door, gone for the day.

You stare for a few moments, deeply hoping he will reappear so you can stare some more. Even his gait is so alluring, so confident, so strong. He is focused, powerful, and yet so secretive. You may not be sure how to respond to his flirtatious gestures, but knowing he is possessive of you is an honor he clearly doesn't give to many. What did you do? Does it matter? You want him to come back and make your face turn red again, tease you into forgetting about your depression, and treat you like his most prized possession. You want to make him melt with snout rubs, warm him, and delight him with your inherent shyness. You finally feel comfortable, but--more importantly--you feel attached.

You come back to reality, quickly scrambling to find the television remote, turning it on to the main event. They're still talking about Loba from the previous match, throwing up pictures all over the screen. How long can they talk about the same thing and still not run out of things to say? You sigh, knowing they will have to let up as the opening of the game starts.

You move over to the kitchenette and start warming up your leftovers. Chinese for breakfast is the sign of a good day, in your opinion. Some people say it's better the next day, but you can't wholly agree. It's different, not better or worse, but you love both. With your appetite finally back, you almost feel like waiting for it to finish, but you know showering while it heats up and cools off enough to eat is the wise choice.

• • • •

You answer the door, seeing Sherry bashfully waving to you with an unsure smile on her face.

"Hey Sherry, Rev told me he--"

"Put in a request for me to come and keep you company, right?"

"Yeah, I hope it's not too much trouble." You step aside so she can enter, which she does.

"So that's what he told you, but do you know what he really asked?" She reels around, fancying a tease as her finger twirled in the air.

"Oh no..." You trail off, already expecting something embarrassing. Sherry makes her way to the couch, throwing herself down and patting the seat next to her to invite you over.

"Oh, nothing that bad. He specifically asked me to make sure you were having a good time and safe. He requested that I not let you get sad, even if I had to--" she clears her throat, preparing to make a direct quote, "--encroach on my territory again." She giggles at the choice of words not even looking up to see your cheeks turn a light pink. He's definitely partially influenced by his software, that's the kind of thing a prowler would say if they could speak. Although, he is possessive on his own too.

"To be fair, you did shove my face in your tits right in front of him..." You sit down next to her, pulling your legs up to cross them.

"I dunno, the way his head tilted made me think he might have liked it." She throws her arms around you for a hug, relishing in pulling you in despite your pulling away.

"You're just as bad as he is." You sigh, accepting the hug that is forced on you.

"Oh? Maybe I can gang up on you with him sometime."

The innuendo isn't lost on you, making you grimace in further realization that you've surrounded yourself with people who tease you with questionable remarks. Sherry lets you go, turning her attention to the television.

"So, got any insider information on what we're about to see?" She lets you off the hook, for now.

"Well, sounds like our favorites are teamed up, for one." She beams, clearly excited at being able to root for the same team. "Second, Revenant has been teasing some grand plan for a while... apparently he's not fond of--" you nod towards Loba holding Revenant's scarf on the screen, "--that. He plans to erase it from everyone's minds."

"Not going to lie, that's the most exciting thing I've heard in ages leading up to a match." Sherry snuggles into the plush couch. It makes sense, she's been working here since before you started. Heck, she's the one who got you the job. She's probably heard everything when it comes to hype, and is likely unaffected by the commentator's excitement anymore. A Legend having some grand scheme for a match would be way more promising. "I'm just glad Revenant and Wattson are on the same team. It means I don't need to root against your shiny metal boyfriend." She smirks at you.

"You'd date Wattson if you could." You retort, trying to fend off her wit.

"Oh! So you are dating!" Ah, shit. You didn't mean to imply that. "So how is he? Is he everything you dreamed? Does he satisfy you?" She's so excitable, despite your answer being completely predictable.

"It's not like that." You turn away, hoping she won't push it.

"It's not like that--yet." She has to push the envelope, every time. She just can't let anything go. "I think he likes you. I bet he's thinking about you right now."

"When there's blood to be spilt? Fat chance." You finally see an opening for a comeback, and you take it. Sherry looks at you with shock, until it melts into a beaming smirk.

"It's cute how much you like him." She finally says.

"Oh, shut it." You leave it there, happy with the ceasefire, knowing you'll likely lose ground if you push it.

The television starts announcing the teams, showing Revenant with Wattson and Wraith. The camera holds on Revenant, standing in the middle and in front of his teammates in the drop ship, giving the commentators time to fawn over his unusual chassis. The floral language they use to describe the viciousness of his new body makes you chuckle as you think about how much he loves snout rubs. You feel a little badass for once; after all, you've tamed the unholy beast they seem so reverent of.

Revenant turns his head, locking optics with something off screen. The camera pans to see who, and a familiar masked face appears. If Bloodhound could have an intense look, this was it. It was a primal look, a pure determination that could only be described as a hunter locking eyes with a most dangerous prey. This is what Revenant meant. This was his plan. There was no chance this would end without a fight for the ages. His animalistic appearance only added to the allure of this soon-to-be battle.

"Hey, why don't we watch the team channel?" Sherry breaks your immersion in the game.

"The what?"

"Oh my--you've been here almost as long as me! How do you not know these things?!" You shrug, still not sure what she's talking about. "Every room gets a special team-specific feed with communications and everything. We should watch it if Wattsy and Revenant are together." She gets up and grabs the remote, clicking a button as she returns, causing the perspective to shift and the commentators to fall silent. You can hear the team instead, loud and clear. Why didn't you know about this?

Sherry bops you on the back of the head before returning her attention to the television.

The voices come through loud and clear on this channel.

"Are you sure about this?" Wattson asks, looking up at Revenant's massive frame.

"Yeah, this seems like a good way to get knocked out early." Wraith crosses her arms, sounding equally skeptical.

"I don't need you to trust me, but I'm going to be chased down. I need to drop separately and lose their trail. I need you to kit up without me, and I will meet you where you are." Revenant must be referring to Bloodhound.

"And what if we're targeted for landing as two instead of three? Not to insult your intelligence, but this seems particularly unwise." Wattson is always so sweet, even when she's not very fond of who she's speaking to.

"You'll need to drop cold. Drop within running distance to me and I will come to your aid if you're targeted." Revenant insists. Wattson sighs, clearly unsure of how to change his mind.

"Very well, please do not get us all killed, even if it is in your programming." Wattson relents.

They walk over and stand tall near the open hatch, barely keeping themselves up and not falling into World's Edge. The wind makes it impossible to hear the communications, but you see Revenant pointing to a few places and Wattson making hand motions as if to discuss options. Wraith just keeps her arms crossed, looking like a badass behind them.

Revenant steps away from the two to step further inside the ship, leaning against the ship wall and appearing to sigh. You hear a voice pick up on his communications.

"You are not as clever as you think, bráð." Revenant turns his gaze to meet Bloodhound, who is haughtily ignoring their teammates in favor of stoking these flames. "You may have disguised your scent with that of your apprentice, but all I must do is hunt your apprentice in order to find you." Revenant huffs, unfazed. "I will be disappointed if this hunt is unworthy of my skills."

With that, Bloodhound turns away to face their teammates, returning to planning. Fuse and Caustic seem completely okay with Bloodhound's previous absence from the conversation, willingly taking time to catch Bloodhound up on their plans. Revenant moves back to his team, Wattson clearly having noticed the exchange over her comms.

"Making friends, are we? I did not think you had it in you." She chuckles a little. She's a bit sassy herself, no wonder her and Sherry get along.

Revenant blows a puff of breath out his nostrils and into his mic, refusing to acknowledge her question.

"You'd be surprised, I think our local murder machine is going soft on us." Wraith pipes up in a taunting manner. Revenant looks very concerned that she might expand on her statement, but Wraith clearly is just enjoying his somewhat panicked reaction, smirking at him with delight.

"Perhaps this is a story for another day. Our drop is coming up!" Wattson chirps, clearly getting a bit excited.

The comms go quiet, spare for the blowing wind near the hatch, before they all jump into the white abyss, the drone camera attempting to follow. As the camera breaches the cloud line, you can see the trails of the team splitting, two in one direction and the other in the opposite. A message appears on the screen reading: 'calling additional drone' before it follows Wraith and Wattson down below.

"Do you want to watch your big metal hunk?" Sherry teases you. "He went off by himself, so I don't mind watching him. I'm comfortable that Wattsy will just be picking up loot safely in that area. Nobody really drops over there."

"I'm being hunted as expected. Stay alive, you two. I'll be there soon." Revenant's voice can be heard over the television.

"Yes! How do we watch him?!" You pipe up, instantly concerned.

Sherry hits a button on the remote and a new visual appears. This new camera drone isn't at Revenant yet, but staring down Bloodhound instead. Bloodhound is looking back and fourth, clearly flustered. The drone hovers, refusing to move as it may give away positions of either Legend.

Bloodhound runs up to a bunker, opens the door, and immediately puts their gloved hands over their mask, as if they're smelling something pungent. They run over to the control panel, wiping the surface and sniffing their fingers. Suddenly, they look invigorated. Impressed, perhaps? It's hard to say. Bloodhound appears to speak into their communications mic and runs off in a full sprint, disappearing from the drone's view.

The drone watches longingly after Bloodhound's trail before it suddenly jostles, making the view blurred and incomprehensible. The camera slows, eventually able to capture an image. It's Revenant's visage, clearly holding the drone at arm's length while sprinting.

"I know you're watching, little skinsuit. Hug your girlfriend if you get too scared." The drone mic isn't as clear as his team comms device, but he's still understandable. "In fact--Sherry--keep her warm for me. You have my support, but I get her back as soon as this is done. Deal?" His voice is full of vitriolic flirting, if that description makes any sense. He crushes the drone and the screen becomes static. Sherry turns to you with a devious smirk.

"Oh, he's so kinky for you." She uses her deep voice and leans into you, wrapping an arm around your back. Your cheeks burn red. "You must have something special, huh? How else did you end up with a big dom daddy like--"

"Oh my fuck, please stop Sherry!" You burst from embarrassment, burying your face in your knees as you pull into your frame. "I can't handle you two teaming up."

She laughs, but not sadistically for once. She gives you a quick hug, a pat on the back, and changes the channel to the other, working camera drone.

"I'm fine, but I have another favor to ask." Revenant's voice brings you out of your human sphere. You don't recognize this area, it's not considered a hot spot.

"You're really pushing your luck today, rustbin." Wraith stays stoic about the whole thing, attaching a scope to a Havoc.

"Let's hear him out. What is it? I cannot promise I will agree to anything, though." Wattson is undeniably kind, but sounds like she's trying to be stern.

"If Bloodhound survives to the end with us, let me single them out and fight them alone. If I fail to finish them, you can kill them and take the match without me." Revenant plans to do what he originally teased you about: defeat your first favorite Legend. How did he find out it was Bloodhound? Or does he even know?

"The chances of that seem unreasonably low, and it seems quite risky, but if you really want to I will respect your wishes." Wattson says as she rummages through a supply bin, picking up some shield cells and batteries.

"The chances are actually strangely high..." Wraith almost mutters as she loads her Havoc. "Did you bribe some people to throw or something?"

"No, I gave the Hunter a challenge." Revenant says as he begins adding improvements to his RE-45, making a satisfying chunking sound as his mag extender slots in. "My mind is on making a spectacle of our battle, and the only thing on the Hunter's mind is surviving until they can kill me. Call it actualization."

"Yeah, you'd have no reason to pay your way to the top, you enjoy this too much." Wraith tests her scope by looking down the sights, apparently pleased with her meager kit for now. "Alright team, we need more equipment, let's move."

They all begin to move towards an area known as The Harvester. You had been dragged there and touched all the controls, doors, and climbed an excessive amount of the area. It makes you tired to even think about it.

"So, I have some actual questions though." Sherry brings your attention out of the television, so you turn towards her. There's not much point in watching until there are gunshots anyway. Otherwise they're just going to be finding more gear. "What happened to your leg?" She points to the puncture wounds on your calf.

"Oh, um--well..." You accidentally revealed it when you pulled your leg up on the couch. "He has a thing where he can't control himself for a few seconds after he reboots." She pauses, processing your response. It is a really odd string of words to put together.

"So... he's homicidal, and if you don't get away--"

"No, not homicidal. There is zero chance of that. More like possessive and overly passionate about it." You hope it makes sense. She pauses again, trying to process the meaning behind the words.

"So it's a sexual thing?" Of course she gets it all wrong.

"No, more like a 'nobody can have you' kind of thing, and then he got too worked up and clenched too hard."

"So... are you sure about this whole thing? What if this keeps happening? That's not okay." She seems genuinely concerned, and a bit unhappy.

"It was an accident, honestly. Sort of like tripping into someone and knocking them over." You try to make it as mild-seeming as possible, but you know she won't fully buy it. She sighs, crosses her arms, and shrugs a little. That's enough acceptance for now.

"So, follow-up question: are you sure you're safe?" It might as well be the same question, but you relent.

"I'm pretty certain."

"That's a horrible answer!" Obviously she'd be a bit upset that it's not complete certainty, but how can you lie to her? Nothing is completely certain.

"It's complicated, but this is a risk I'm absolutely willing to take." You surprise yourself with your own calmness. "I know this seems insane, but my life has only been better for every crazy decision I've made, and I need this to happen. Life is short these days, even if I die I want to do something better than nothing." Sherry stares at you with a dumbfounded look, apparently impressed by your short speech.

"I guess that makes sense, but if stuff gets too violent... please leave." She averts her gaze, looking down at her feet.

"I promise, but really, I'm quite happy." You hug her, and she hugs you back for a moment.

"So he must be really good in bed then, huh?" She ruins the moment, she absolutely has to. It's practically her purpose in life at this point.

"I don't know, to be honest." You try to sound as serious as possible to avoid further teasing.

"What? Are you kidding? He makes it sound like you guys are fu--"

"Don't say it please." You put your face in your hands, questioning why you're still so easily embarrassed by these things. You're always blushing, which seems to goad people like Revenant and Sherry into teasing you. It is a little fun, though. Their power trip of teasing seems to make them both so happy, and in a weird way you share in that happiness as a willing victim.

"Well, okay, but I hope you get some soon," she snickers, "Honestly I don't think it'll be much longer now, anyway."

Gunshots ring out on the television.

"I've taken hits! If you've got a sniper, try to cover me!" Wraith sounds hurt, despite phasing towards the opponents on a hill nearby. Revenant pulls a Longbow he must have found recently, doing his best to take shots at the opponents while Wraith closes the gap. The scope must not be the best, because you can clearly see his stature get frustrated as he whiffs his shots. The return fire seems just as poor, hitting at Revenant's feet and the wall behind him, leaving gaping bullet holes. Suddenly, you hear a crack as Revenant's shot lands, then another.

"One closest to you is weak," he quickly states.

"Got it, engaging." Wraith barely finishes her statement before she's downed her opponent. Without the fancy graphics of the public broadcast, you're not sure who is on the enemy team, especially with how far the drone is.

"Engaging on the opposite side! Someone is alone!" Wattson suddenly appears on the opposite side as Wraith, immediately engaging another body as Wraith moves in towards the final contender in the middle. The gunshots are really going now, but the camera drone has been staying near Revenant, who is hanging back taking sniper shots.

"I'm down, but he's hurting!" Wattson's voice comes over comms, prompting Revenant to switch to his RE-45 and sprint to close the distance. The drone lags behind slowly, not closing enough distance to make out the opponents.

Wraith curses over the audio as she and her opponent go down simultaneously, leaving one weakened contender to Revenant. He's closing the gap excessively fast; it looks like they're trying to use a med kit.

"I'm not wasting the bullet." You definitely watch Revenant's silhouette stab the other before the med kit is finished, prompting the whole team to be deathboxed. The drone suddenly kicks into high speed, catching up to Revenant. It makes sense that the drones shouldn't give away positions, but this was a little frustrating at times. They either have to stay side-by-side or it has to hang back.

Revenant goes to Wraith first, pulling a medical syringe in his fist. He pauses, looking down on her for a moment. He twirls the syringe in his fingers, stopping it so his thumb lands on the plunger and his pointer and middle finger brace the flange on the barrel. He kneels down to her, pinches the muscle near her shoulder, and injects it quickly. He tosses the empty needle in a different pocket on his belt and helps her to her feet. Wraith is staring at him with a strange but subtle smile. He huffs at her and turns to tend to Wattson.

"So you did pay attention." Wraith sounds soft for a moment, but it doesn't get a reaction out of Revenant, who is doing the same to Wattson.

"Have you ever thought of the long term effects of all these injections?" Wattson asks as Revenant helps her up.

Wraith clears her throat loudly, crossing her arms.

"Yeah, it can do crazy things for sure." Wraith says with a heavy layer of frustration.

"Oh, I am so sorry, I did not mean to dredge up old memories." Wattson shakes her hands in front of her as a motion of apology.

"Yeah, science these days tends to be used to ruin the lives of as many people as possible." Revenant adds.

They all stand there in a circle, silent. It's not an awkward silence, it's a mournful silence. Revenant's stare is deep in the distance. Wraith's body language exudes frustration over past traumas. Wattson looks at the ground, almost like in secondhand guilt for being a woman of science. The stillness hangs for an uncomfortable amount of time, before Wraith breaks it.

"Nothing we can do, we are who we are now." She sighs. "We're top seven now. We need to find some other deathboxes and pick up better gear. We're going to stay sneaky until we're down to the last two." She immediately begins running towards the center of the new circle, close to the giant ice-like structure known as the Epicenter. Revenant and Wattson immediately move to follow. More boring running for a while.

"Who do you think was on that team?" Sherry asks, understanding that there's not much point in watching these segments.

"I'm not sure either. Sneaky play is boring, but I can't argue with the results. I'm going to run and get snacks, do you want anything?" You stand up, wanting to move around after a long while of sitting. Sherry immediately lays down on the couch, taking up all the space you left.

"Sure, give me anything with that cheese powder crack on it." She shoots you finger guns.

• • • •

"Sherry, I'm not getting you more chips."

"Please?"

"No, you've literally had three and a half bags, you're covered in cheese dust, and I'm pretty sure you're an addict. How strong is your metabolism, anyway?" You're brushing dust off the couch, at this rate you might as well get a vacuum. You ate a half, and then Sherry destroyed the rest plus all the other bags you got. You wonder how on earth she keeps her thinner figure like this. She must be cut from a completely different cloth than you.

"I have the same metabolism as all of my tapeworms." She stretches, and attempts to wipe the dust off her pants. "Sadly this has been pretty uneventful so far. They're being so careful. Three teams left now, and it looks and sounds like the other two are fighting it out." The gunshots are weak and in the distance.

"We're kitted as best as we can be, we should approach this like we did last time." Wraith has a 30-30 Repeater now, extremely well-modded.

"Did you notice that we're in the circle and they are not? We should set up a bit of an obstacle course here!" Wattson chirps.

"We can actually use it to attract our opponents and engage them from afar too." Wraith is beginning to smile, seeing a good path to victory.

"Leave Bloodhound for me." Revenant mumbles, just as a reminder.

"You'll get your wish, we've got this." Wraith's smile is unusual for her, but it's hard not to be at least a little happy in the face of such a massive victory.

Wattson begins setting up electric gates in the area as the circle closes in from the distance, creating a strange set of gates around the Survey Camp, trying to get around and weave through cover. Wraith finds a spot away from the tangled mess, Revenant joining her.

"Do you think they'll win?" You hold your breath, not as sure as Wraith is.

"Of course, Wattson is with them!" Sherry pumps her fists together as if she didn't just eat an inhuman amount of crisps. How can she move so jovially with a stomach that must weigh as much as a brick?

Gunshots ring out, Revenant takes sniper shots at the last remaining team as they escape the incoming heat wall.

"Why did you give our position away!?" Wraith punches him in the shoulder, but he doesn't flinch.

"Use your portal to charge them, hit Bloodhound in the leg, and come back immediately through the portal. Let them follow." Revenant has no fluctuations in his voice. He's dead serious.

"This better work!" Wraith yells as she disappears, leaving a strange portal hole next to Revenant.

"Wattson, come throw down your Interceptor Pylon here, we need to make sure they come into the portal after Wraith." Revenant seems to have thought this through, but why does he want to fight up close?

Wattson throws it down and it immediately stops an incoming Knuckle Cluster, barely getting it up and running in time. Some incoming grenades meet the same fate.

"Excellent, thank you Wattson." Revenant sounds excited. Wattson pauses in minor confusion.

"You're... thanking me? You never do tha--"

Wraith appears in front of Fuse, Bloodhound, and Caustic. She pulls out her 30-30 Repeater and nails Bloodhound in the leg, taking many shots herself before retreating into the portal. Bloodhound takes a knee and begins using a med kit as Caustic and Fuse jump into the portal.

Revenant is unarmed on the other side, all his guns, grenades, recovery tools, and ammo on the ground around him. He's holding his sharpened arm right up against the portal's center, practically posing. Fuse first appears and is immediately skewered through the chest, exhaling in surprise. Revenant flicks his entire arm to the side, causing Fuse's corpse to fly off to the side, blood spewing everywhere out of the hole in his chest. He is deathboxed before he hits the ground. Revenant's other hand is already poised for an encore.

Caustic comes through second, taking the sharpened point in the neck. The blood is immediate and generous. Revenant lifts his body off his feet, letting the blood roll down his stabbing arm and drip everywhere. Caustic drops a live Gas Grenade as he dies, spitting blood. Revenant throws his body in much the same manner, and Caustic is deathboxed midair.

"Well, shit, that worked." Wraith has almost healed her injuries completely, Wattson watching over her and armed to the teeth. "I guess the rest is all yours, maniac."

"Do not make us wait too long, please! I am looking forward to this win!" Wattson helps Wraith up and begins to run in the other direction to escape the spreading gas.

Revenant immediately starts sprinting towards Bloodhound in a straight line with no gear of any kind. Not even a gun. He's thoroughly coated in fresh blood and looks like a monstrosity, surely he's going to be shot down.

"Is he trying to die?!" Sherry screams at the television. "They almost have it! What even is this?!" You wish you could defend Revenant, but in truth you have the same questions.

No gunshots come though. Bloodhound stands there, newly recovered thanks to their med kit. They're situated right near the tangle of electrical gates, arms crossed and waiting patiently. It doesn't take long for Revenant to meet them, standing tall and unarmed a few feet away, locking their gaze. Bloodhound begins throwing their guns, grenades, health items, and ammo to the side. They finish, staring down their opponent in a strange silence. You're glad you're on a private channel, this would be ruined by any crowd sounds or commentators talking over it.

Finally, Bloodhound reaches behind them and pulls out a beautiful axe. It looks ancient but well-maintained, certainly a relic from their sordid history as a hunter.

"Congratulations kill leader, how many did you kill to get to this moment?" Revenant asks.

"Fourteen bodies lay behind me." Bloodhound states very plainly. That's an insane number. Revenant growls happily at their answer. "I have fought hard to meet this moment. I will confess, you are more clever than I expected. I am sorry for underestimating you before. You brought your apprentice here and ensured she left her scent everywhere, then disguised yourself with the same scent."

You're stunned into silence. All that running around was to literally make it impossible for Bloodhound to hunt by scent alone. You almost felt happy to be a small part of this, in some way, but also a little frustrated at how hard that day was. It explains why Revenant took your shirt before, why it came back so grimy, why you had to touch everything, and why he wasn't upset that you drooled all over his mane. Is this simulacrum also a conniving genius?

"I noticed you didn't use your sonar to find me earlier." Revenant pries a little.

"It would be disrespectful to the honor of this hunt." Bloodhound is beginning to sound excited in a bloodthirsty manner. "You also have come unarmed, so I meet your challenge as my ancestors would."

Bloodhound shimmers the blade of the axe in the sunlight, proudly caressing its blade. They've got one knife, an axe, and their wits. Nothing more.

Revenant begins to sidestep, Bloodhound sidestepping to match, never leaving each other's gaze. They're circling each other, neither making the first move. Bloodhound breaks the silence with a thunderous declaration.

"May the Allfather bless this hunt!" They lunge forward, axe at the ready.

Revenant leaps to the side, avoiding them, immediately lunging to counter. His giant maw is wide open, going straight for Bloodhound's head. Bloodhound ducks, and plunges one of their smaller knives into Revenant's gut. They push the knife in hard enough that Revenant buckles at the torso and falls backwards, letting the knife slide out in Bloodhound's grasp.

Revenant's clawed foot hits Bloodhound right in the breathing mask, causing them to stumble backwards long enough for Revenant to get on his feet. Revenant lunges again, but uses his arm length to pick Bloodhound up and toss them through the electrified fence. Bloodhound lands on the other side, obviously hurting. A knife comes flying through the fence and chunks into Revenant's chest. Revenant grabs at it, clearly in pain from both his hits so far. He leaves it in despite his pain, knowing that Bloodhound can't have it back this way without getting close.

Revenant strafes to the side to see around the electric fence just to find nothing there. They've vanished in the web. Revenant begins to prowl around the inside of the fence with all its jagged nooks, looking for anything. Revenant keeps turning to look behind him, clearly expecting some kind of attack from behind. The heat wall closes in on the fenced in area, leaving only half of the area available. Revenant watches as the wall moves up close to his face, then begins to turn to leave.

Bloodhound leaps onto Revenant's back from behind the heat wall, their garb charred a bit from hiding beyond it. Bloodhound gets their axe around Revenant's throat and pulls so the handle begins to choke him, but Revenant throws himself backwards into the heat wall, burning Bloodhound. They shove the axe upwards in an uppercut-like fashion, stunning Revenant so they have time to dismount and leave the heat wall before swinging for another blow. The axe lands in Revenant's hip, but Revenant grabs it and holds it in place, lunging forward with his open jaw to bite. Bloodhound jumps back, avoiding the bite, but losing their axe in the process.

Bloodhound shows no fear, immediately lunging for Revenant's lower body, taking advantage of his shifted center of gravity and forcing him to fall forward, right on the knife in his chest. Revenant emits a horrid sound which is only compounded when Bloodhound pulls the axe from his hip. Bloodhound swings for the head, but Revenant shifts so his horn takes the brunt. Revenant grabs Bloodhound's leg and in one swift motion gets to his feet and throws Bloodhound like a ragdoll across the field, away from the fences. Revenant sprints towards them, leaning so far forward that he's nearly on all fours. It's bestial. Bloodhound is able to sit up just in time to save themself from a massive bite, but only by shoving their axe in Revenant's jaw to force it to stay open.

Revenant takes the opportunity to get his hands around Bloodhound's neck, claws fully out. Bloodhound retaliates by using their free arm to pull the knife from Revenant's chest, causing him to reel in pain. He still is unable to close his mouth, and Bloodhound isn't choking fast enough to save him from getting his throat slashed by the now freed knife. Revenant is forced to release Bloodhound completely and staggers backwards, holding his own throat now instead. You could be mistaken, but it looked like the inside of his mouth might have been injured from biting the axe too.

Bloodhound immediately throws the knife again, hitting Revenant in the thigh. He falls to a knee, giving Bloodhound enough time to get up and lunge, landing the axe right in Revenant's mask. With a twist of the wrist, their axe is free and Revenant's mask is cracked. Revenant's pain seems to convert to adrenaline, as he lets go of his throat and grabs Bloodhound's leg out from underneath them, causing them to land on the back of their head before Revenant goes in for a stab. Bloodhound deflects Revenant's arm stab with their axe. Revenant's arm chunks into the ground next to Bloodhound's head instead.

Revenant is making a disconcerting wheezing noise. There's tons of damage all over his body, and the pain must be unreal at this point. Bloodhound is banged up too, taking mostly concussive damage to the head. Their chest rises and falls rapidly, but you can't hear them pant through the breathing mask. Despite all the apparent hurt, you do not expect either of them are done.

Revenant lunges down for the bite and nails it this time, his maw right around Bloodhound's head. Bloodhound is bleeding immediately, but takes the opportunity to pull the knife again from his thigh. Revenant, now wise to the possibilities, uses his whole body to fling Bloodhound by their head to the side. Revenant is finally able to stand up completely, but he limps a little.

Bloodhound's head is bleeding pretty badly now, their blood splattered on the ground from being bit and thrown. They quickly get to their feet but quiver a bit while doing so. They seem confident now having their knife and axe at their side again.

"Allfather is pleased by this battle." Bloodhound states very factually. "Were it not for my weapons, I surely would have lost this fight long ago."

"Hate to break it to you, but you're still going to lose." Revenant's voice sounds wispy from exhaustion. He limps closer, and Bloodhound stands their ground.

Revenant ignores his limp just long enough to lunge, this time claws out and jaw open. Bloodhound sidesteps, but Revenant recovers quickly and turns to lunge again. Bloodhound is ready, and uses both the knife and the axe to stab and brutally chunk into his back as they take a massive bite to the waist, as well as an arm stab to the thigh. Bloodhound just begins wailing his blades into Revenant's back, who seems unwilling to release the hold he has. Bloodhound's waist is dripping blood and the cloth on their outfit is soaked crimson. Revenant's body seems to be giving out on him, but not before Revenant uses his spare arm for a stab towards the chest.

Bloodhound clearly plans to take it. They're unable to dodge or move, but before Revenant can land the blow, Bloodhound plunges the knife into Revenant's throat. Revenant's stab finishes, but his chassis goes limp right as Bloodhound is deathboxed from the stab to the chest.

The final camera shot of the fight is of Revenant's bestial chassis limply hanging off the edge of Bloodhound's deathbox, his head resting on the top like a mourner on a coffin. Then Revenant is deathboxed, ending the match.

The camera shifts to Wraith and Wattson who were watching the fight from afar, now waving in victory to the camera and celebrating. Wattson holds a Nessie plush toy over her head in victory, but where did it come from? As the camera zooms in, you see she's surrounded by a few. What the heck?

Sherry and you sit, stunned in silence. Sherry changes the channel to the public broadcast, and you hear the crowds reeling in cheers at the primal violence they just got to enjoy. The commentators are losing their minds over the ending, calling it 'The Allfather's Hunt' and practically gushing at the seams over the imagery of the Hunter and the Prey dying together. Wraith and Wattson are showered in confetti and champagne, although Wraith doesn't seem as much into the celebrations as Wattson is. Revenant really did make a spectacle out of the whole thing. Nobody was going to care about 'Loba the Scalper' after this.

Sherry seems conflicted. Normally she would be on her feet, screaming loud enough to warrant a noise complaint whenever Wattson wins. However, now she seems worried over what she just saw. She turns to you.

"This guy can and might kill you." She speaks very quickly and quietly. "I just watched him kill with no weapons, just brute strength. He can throw people and crush them and stab them and bite them, and he can absolutely break every bone in your body if he wanted." She looks down at her hands, as if to soak in the frailty of humanity. "I don't want you to end up like that."

"Sherry, I know. Trust me, I do. He's the strongest, most terrifying person I've ever met, but I'm not and will never be his target." You speak confidently. "He finds some kind of comfort in me and has taken a liking to me. He will not intentionally hurt me. Unintentionally it may happen, but he seems to know how to handle that when it does happen."

Sherry sighs.

"Do you love this guy that much?" She asks.

You pause. It's not a word you've really used yet to describe how you feel. Like, sure, but not full-on love. You think about it. You don't like throwing that word around.

"I am that fond of him, yes." You finally say. "I just want to see where it goes."

"If you're sure, just please don't get gored." Sherry stands up, a concerned look still plastered on her face. "I'm going to go clean and decorate Wraith and Wattson's room for them. I would do this one too, but Revenant never seems to like it."

"Thanks for hanging out, Sherry. Don't worry, I'll be okay, I promise."

Sherry nods a little, then leaves the room, allowing you to stretch and relax until Revenant gets back. You wonder how long it will take this time.

• • • •

It's mid-afternoon, by now all the broadcasts should be finished up on all the different planets, where it should be later in the day. Morning matches are a theme here, but it lines up perfectly with the end-of-the-workweek evenings for other planets. It also means the lighting during the match is perfect. Sometimes the broadcast will be held off to make sure it shows at prime time on each planet, but that always means tourism to the planets where it's shown live is excessive.

Right about now, this planet should be clearing out from everyone who wanted to watch the Apex Game live today. Talos probably had it worse today, if you can call tons of tourism worse. After all, they must make bank in souvenirs, assuming the locals are one to sell souvenirs. You question if the people Bloodhound came from would be the type to do so. Probably not. Anyone who is willing to though: they must be rich.

It's been a few hours and despite last time, you cannot shake the anxiety that Revenant might never come back.

There's a knock at the door, to which you quickly go and open it.

"Oh, hello, just dropping this off, as requested!" This stout but strong mustached man with permanently squinted eyes rolls in a large deathbox on a caddy. He must work in a different section of the volunteers than you did, otherwise you would recognize him. He carefully lays the deathbox on the floor. You move to help, but remember when Revenant collapsed on you and realize you're not strong enough for this. This guy is impressively strong to be able to carry it. He wipes a bead of sweat from his head after finishing, and begins to roll his caddy out.

"Have a nice day ma'am!" He waves goodbye and shuts the door after himself. You turn to stare down at the deathbox.

Open it.

You want so badly to open it. You have to know. Yes, you need to know. Does his chassis really have all the parts a human does, or was his flirtatious teasing all a grand bluff?

Open it.

This box may not contain all the answers, but perhaps it can solve that one question. Does he really like you that way? Is it possible that he could like you that way? Or is it possible regardless of his body?

Open it.

Is this an invasion of privacy? Probably, but since when has he given you the same courtesy? If you're lucky enough, he won't be back in time to even notice.

Open it.

However, you don't think it's right. You meander to the bed and sit down, turning on the television to see more of the commotion. They're not going to stop talking about 'The Allfather's Hunt' anytime soon. This isn't a good distraction.

Open it.

Forget it, you start flipping through the channels. There's some sickeningly optimistic and colorful kid's show. Now it's news, listing off dozens of people murdered just in the city streets yesterday, per usual. Now it's a show about an unsolved murder from a few years ago. Now it's a documentary about the Frontier War. This isn't working.

Open it.

You grab your badge out of your pocket and leave the room, freezing outside of the door. Right, there's not a single soul back from the medical bay to talk to. You didn't know Wattson well enough to go knock on her door, and you're not sure where Wraith was moved to after Revenant busted her door. Even if you did, you don't know her that well either.

Open it.

You scan your card and reenter Revenant's room, stagger over to the box, and mess with the latch. Once unlocked, a button releases the door and it springs open.

Tears well up in your eyes. Why did you do this to yourself? He's lifeless, bent up into a tangle of limbs and parts to fit into the box. What did you expect? He looks like an old sarcophagus that was forcefully shoved into a box he could not fit in. His corpse is so beautiful, but so empty and void of life simultaneously, like an art piece left to rot in the elements. You can't help yourself. You have to get him out of there.

You move to one side of the box and leverage your legs to begin tipping the box. It's very heavy, but you have to do this. The box tips over its center of balance and rotates the rest of the way over, spilling Revenant's corpse onto the floor. You pull the box back upright so the opening faces the ceiling again, and get back up to run over to his body. His chassis is laid out now like a more normal corpse would be, although his limbs have fallen where they may.

You crouch down, letting your tears hit the chassis with a hollow thumping sound. You hold his hand, but there's nothing: no squeeze, no sharp points, not even a bashful resistance to such an act of affection. No amount of knowledge that he will come back can fix how you feel right now.

You struggle to pull his body into your lap. This may be lighter than his classic metal body, but it's still difficult to move it around. You silently weep, finally getting his crushing weight on your legs. You lean forward into his nuzzle and rub it, hoping for that awkwardly stifled joy he shows when he likes something. There's nothing, his eyes are void.

You begin to cry out loud.

You carefully cradle his head, ignoring the matted fur in the way. You rock back and fourth, crying into his cheek and begging him internally to wake up. The tears flow around and into the giant crack in his mask. He had wounds all over him, and you trace your fingers around each one. Hope is worthless; it can't fix him. You touch his horns he seemed so proud of. There's a massive break in one of them and the horn is almost loose off his skull. So much damage. So much pain. Your crying gets louder.

Why did you open it? Why did you have to be curious? At first you just wanted to look to see if he was bluffing about this body having sexual mods. You didn't bargain for the excessive and overwhelming grief of seeing him dead. You rock his body, mourning in utter despair, cradling his head so close to your chest that it hurts. You squeeze your eyes shut to try to hold back the tears, but it flows right through. Maybe not seeing the body will help.

You continue to sob and rock him for what feels like an hour. In truth, it's probably only ten or so minutes. It hurts so bad, even with your eyes closed the image might as well be etched on your eyelids. Your nose is stopped up from the crying, but you cannot find the energy to try to wipe it so it can breathe again. Your only air flows through your mouth in painfully hitched gasps between sobs of agony.

Suddenly, something cold and metal begins wiping away your tears.

You wince in surprise, but as you open your eyes you see nothing. You look side to side, panning the entire room, but there really is nothing. The door didn't open, you would have heard that. If Revenant was here, you would have seen him, right? You make sure to turn fully around and look behind you, maybe he's in your blind spot. No, nothing. What even was that? You turn back around.

You take a deep breath and sigh in disappointment, a few more tears escaping your eyes.

Hands cup around your cheeks, drying them again. You look up. He's on the ceiling, attached by his feet, but holding his hands downward to touch you. He's back in his normal, red body. He carefully releases himself from the ceiling one leg at a time, being careful to step behind you. He curls around you in a hug so your back is against him. He carefully pulls you backwards so the chassis in your lap rolls off of you, and he envelops you in his cool embrace. He uses a foot to push the corpse further away from you. He grabs your jaw to force you to face him as he leans his head forward to look at you.

"Why are you crying?" His voice is plain and without emotion, but his face--his eyes--have life. You begin to cry again in some kind of disbelief, forcing your body to turn towards him and hug him back. You grip the red straps on his chest and press your face against his metal torso, letting the tears roll down him. You won't let go. This one is alive.

He brushes your hair with his claws, lightly scratching your scalp as he does. His other hand rubs into your back, careful to press into your spine and knead it. His legs bunch up and cross around you.

"I was secretly hoping you would snoop around in my deathbox, looking for something you shouldn't." He sighs into your ear. "Instead you cry over me. What a disappointment when I was hoping to catch you being naughty. Do you really feel that attached to me already?" He squeezes you a little, but you can't stop crying to answer him. "You must, otherwise you wouldn't cry for me like this, despite knowing I will always come back."

He continues to try to soothe you as best as he can. He's warmed up and is now reflecting heat back at you. He nuzzles his mask into your shoulder. He takes breaks from brushing your hair to try to wipe away any tears that'd don't make it onto his chest.

"Idiot." He lets out a small chuckle. "You're making me soft." You can't respond, but your tears are finally beginning to run dry. "You know, they say the best way to know if you're loved is to attend your own funeral. Obviously, that's impossible for most. Thank you for attending mine, and showing me this." He unwraps his legs, scoops his arms under you, and stands as he lifts you up with him. You refuse to let go of his straps, although your arms have to extend to hold on as you lie back in his hold.

He brings you over to the bed and lays you down carefully. He touches his mask to your forehead, and begins to pull away. He catches on your grip on his straps. You're still trembling a bit and probably still have that ugly crying face you're self-conscious of, but you can't help it. He carefully starts to pry your fingers off of the straps, but you grip even harder. You're not letting go. You won't let go. What if he leaves?

He sighs, recognizing your distress. He lets go of your fingers and scoops you back up again, this time so you're sitting against his shoulder. He's so excessively strong, he barely even seems to be bothered by the weight of you. He walks you over to the computer desk and sits down with you, leaving you in his lap. His hands wrap around you and begin typing on a keyboard. You carefully touch his face, not paying attention to what he's doing.

He pauses, looks to you, and takes your hand for a moment. He pulls it to the ridge of his mask that has a lip-like tint and angle, pressing the back of your hand into it for a moment before releasing your hand and returning his attention to the computer.

For the first time since you opened that deathbox, you trust what you're seeing. He's back, he's alive, and he's okay. You let your body limply lean into his shoulder, release his straps, and let him handle your weight with his body. You close your eyes and remember how to breathe normally. There's no reason to have a panic attack anymore.

"Take a nap. You're more exhausted than I am somehow. I'll wake you up soon." You feel his hand forcefully guide your head over his shoulder where it can rest comfortably. "Don't argue with me, now. Just do as I say."

You really are exhausted from all the excitement and emotion. You snuggle up against him as he shifts his body to fit your comfort. He makes a slow, heavy breathing sound in rhythm with his typing, and occasionally lightly runs his fingers over your bare skin. You're gone soon after.

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (January 12/2021) - The Bathwater Mishap

After a couple weeks off, Antfrost has made his return at last!

Needless to say, there’s a lot to be filled in on. L’manberg’s now a crater, the Dream SMP faction’s future is ambiguous, and the Badlands’ power remains strong as ever. 

But after Bad gives him the run-down, things start to go a bit off the rails when Skeppy comes online...

---

- Ponk continues his project from yesterday of a collection of gravestones/shrines to various people

- He tells chat that he is, in fact, a descendant of Helga. He and Lazar are descendants of the people from the Village That Went Mad. 

- Fundy leads Friend around through the ruins doing hijinks with maps and item frames.

- Fundy roleplays a western scene with Friend and a picture of George. 

- Afterwards, he walks around with Friend and talks to him a bit (he seems to be fluent in sheep-speak)

- Friend insults Sally and Fundy gets upset at him, trying to establish some boundaries for touchy subjects.

- Fundy brings Friend back to the ruins and returns him to safety.

- Fundy then goes to prank Ponk’s Casino. Ponk comes online.

- Ponk dies to the fall trap.

- Fundy does a fashion show with Ponk, walking down the catwalk. Fundy returns Ponk’s Yeezys and Ponk runs away. Fundy then realizes that Ponk still has Fundy’s boots.

- Ponk comes back and tells Fundy to follow him. He leads him to the Graveyard, saying “you will have your own spot.” Ponk instructs Fundy to kiss the Helga shrine to pay respects. He walks Fundy through the other shrines.

- Finally, Ponk shows Fundy the Sacrifice shrine. Fundy pays his respects.

Ponk: You will be here soon ;)

He then logs off in the shrine, leaving Fundy alone in the Graveyard.

- Fundy says he never dies. He has nine lives, he’s a cat! Well, part cat.

Apparently Fundy is 1/3 cat...oh wait, that’d only be three lives.

- Either way, Fundy wants to finish pranking Ponk

- Fundy explains that he wants to bring everyone together by making everyone hate him, so that they’ll work together. He won’t get what he wants, but at least everyone will be united. 

- He said that while he worked under Schlatt, he thought initially that Schlatt had a good plan for the country. He says that every President was going for the right things, but had their flaws within themselves that brought them down.

Wilbur went insane, Schlatt was focused on his own goals, and Tubbo never wanted any war, and those three things led them to falling into pitfalls.

Schlatt was good for certain reasons, but overall it’s hard to say.

- Fundy then says that he sees Wilbur as someone who left him alone in the world to rot alone. He doesn’t see himself as the one who betrayed Wilbur, but rather that Wilbur betrayed him by exploding L’manburg and leaving him with no father.

- On resurrecting Wilbur, Fundy says that Wilbur could be resurrected at any point -- if it works, even! Say it does work, though: 

“Do we even want that? Let’s be real, ‘cause like, Wilbur’s the cause of everything. Wilbur’s the one who started L’manburg, right? Getting Wilbur back is just gonna repeat the cycle. Ghostbur’s not done anyone harm, been friendly to everyone...might as well bring back Schlatt! ...Might as well bring back L’manburg! Like...do we need it? Is it good? Right? I don’t think it is, chat...I think it’s good the way it is.”

- Character Fundy is canonically in his 20s.

- Fundy finishes his Cube above the Casino.

- He says he’d like to create a new noteblock song on the SMP, but might have to destroy the Able Sisters Theme at the Jungle Base in order to use its materials. He heads to the Jungle Base and plays it a final time, but decides not to destroy it today. Maybe some other day.

- Antfrost has returned to the server after a two-week break! He’s missed...quite a bit.

- Badboyhalo gives Ant a tour. He’s surprised by the state of the Community House, but nothing compares to the shock of seeing the crater for the first time.

- He asks Bad about the state of the factions. If there’s no more L’manburg to lay claim to the crater, and the Dream SMP has no more enemy to oppose and has faded into the background once more, then...

The server is ripe for the taking, isn’t it?

Perhaps this is a good opportunity for the Badlands to grow in power.

- Bad then suggests they visit the Egg. Bad shows Ant the chamber, and how it’s completely full to the brim with vines at this point. Ant isn’t impressed with the job Bad’s been doing to keep the Egg at bay.

- Skeppy comes online. He does the fastest costume change the Dream SMP’s ever seen and becomes Red Skeppy for the Blood Vines Arc to continue. He asks to see the Egg and then starts making his way towards it.

- Bad, Ant and Skeppy all go down to the Egg chamber. Skeppy, once in the chamber, starts hyperventilating and yelling loudly. He logs off inside the chamber and Bad and Ant freak out.

- Ant says that he suspects the Egg and Skeppy have become too intertwined...and says that Skeppy might have to be put down. Bad protests strongly, but Ant insists that it would be a mercy killing.

- Bad says that instead, they should just let Skeppy stay in the chamber and let him live with the Egg for good. Ant says that’s no way to live.

- Ant says that they should take a vote with the rest of the Council. If they vote to kill Skeppy, Ant says that Bad can be the one to do it.

- Bad tries to suggest they try killing Eret instead. Or maybe it doesn’t have to be Eret, but killing any other person! Perhaps every other person on the SMP besides Skeppy, even!

- Ant suspects that the Egg is influencing Bad and brings him to Church Prime to be cleansed. Eret comes over to see what’s happening and Ant tells him to run. There’s a brief chase scene before they come back to Church Prime.

- Eret asks, if they need to kill someone for an experiment, why can’t it be Bad? After more debate, Eret then suggests the possibility of covering Skeppy in Ghostbur’s blue. If the blue can calm down other people, could it possibly calm down Skeppy as well? Badboyhalo suggests holy bathwater.

- Red Skeppy comes back online and comes to Church Prime to drink the Badboyhalo Bathwater.

- Skeppy drinks the bathwater and turns into a horrifying combination monstrosity of Skeppy and Badboyhalo. Skeppy starts talking like Bad, saying “muffins” in every sentence.

- They give Bad-Skeppy a picture of Catboy Skeppy and he seems to like it, putting it in his Enderchest.

- Skeppy drinks more bathwater, then turns into an “Evil?” version of Badboyhalo that swears

- Since Skeppy becomes more and more “Bad” with each bottle of Bad’s bathwater, Ant asks if Bad has any of Skeppy’s bathwater and Bad says the pools might have some.

- Skeppy drinks that water, but instead turns into a horrifying fusion of Bad, Dream, George, Antfrost and Sapnap, who’ve been in those pools. Trance Music for Racing Game starts playing.

DUDUDUDU

- The four attempt to brew the ultimate Skeppy Potion to get him back to normal, but Skeppy has disappeared again.

- Skeppy seems to have left for good this time, and the four are left wondering if they’ll be able to get him back another day.

For now, it seems the Manhunt amalgamation will roam unchecked...

- Ant gives Bad a Catboy Halo picture as a gift for Skeppy.

---

Upcoming Events:

- Council of the Egg Meeting

- Futuristic Tales From the SMP episode

[mrpenguinpants]

hellooo this is not a request but what do u think of the new upcoming character (he'll probably get release like... at least after 2 years ig TAT) Dainsleif?

Major spoilers for Kaeya’s Character Story and Khaenri'ah Lore. 

TLDR: I like the potential Dainsleif has plus his design is really nice. He might be a catalyst or sword user with empowered auto's or he might be similar to Zhongli that uses field effects and has a delete button for his elemental burst. 

I have many theories on who Dainsleif is and that he is either some type of traveler/god/homunculus and he has the element of ash or quintessence. The opposite of dendro and nature. I'd like to believe that the lore of Khaenri'ah relates to his story and his attitude (since he's from there originally) and it's a desolate place with no archon blessings so the people themselves had to develop their own methods to survive, hence the art of alchemy Khemia. When Dainsleif get's introduced, mostly likely towards the very end, we might find out why Scaramouche said the sky and the stars was a gigantic hoax and the truth behind Kaeya. 

---

ANON. YOU. YOU GET A COOKIE. I LOVE TALKING ABOUT STORY AND CHARACTER LORE SO MUCH.

Please, if any of you wanna talk about this I’m totally on board. I love Dainsleif and I’m so upset he’ll probably be released towards end game so yeah two years at least;; 

Okay, so level with me. I’m about to bring out the whiteboard for this. I tried to format it so it was easier to digest but this is pure word vomit and I went overboard again. 

What do u think of the new upcoming character Dainsleif?

I’m very excited. I think his design is beautiful and I want those lore bomb drops. 

Firstly, I can’t wait for him to drop. I’m always a sucker for lore and he’s been dropping hints from the start since he narrates all the character’s collected miscellany. He does remind of me Dimitri from FE3H but I’m excited for more Khaenri’ah lore. 

I have some theories about where the story will go with him and  Khaenri’ah but those are some major spoilers so I left a read more tag if you’re interested. 

Tumblr won’t let me upload his splash art but just google it lol.

Which weapon will he use? 

Catalyst or Sword. He might have empowered autos like Diluc and Razor or he might apply a mark like Childe. 

I can see him being a castor since his right arm is glowing. But he might also be a sword user that uses empowered auto’s like Diluc and Razor. Since the name Dainsleif was King Högni's sword during the battle of Hjaðningavíg. According to the reliable source of wiki, whatever wound the Dainsleif sword cause could not be healed. 

I think it would be cool if his auto’s apply a stack/mark (similar to Childe’s riptide mark), and after 3 auto’s the mark is consumed and the enemy gets dealt heavy damage. Or maybe you can apply debuffs like “defense down” or maybe even a blind, based on the number to stacks you have on the mark. 

What vision will he have?

A hydro vision or a custom one (similar to a delusion). Or he doesn’t have a vision at all and uses alchemy or is secretly a “god”.

As for vision, he might be a hydro character since his splash art appears like he’s coming out of a ball of water. I’ve heard people say he might be cyro also, which wouldn’t be extremely off if visions actually correspond with their user. 

Or he might be introduced with an entirely new element (perhaps a new type of alchemy?). His star is a dark blue too so he might have the element of black mist/dust or ash/shadows as a potential power. 

In the Albedo trailer he mentions:

"But I know it well. It hails from Khaenri'ah: The Art of Khemia. Soil and chalk, the universe and earth, pure dust and the birth of life.”

Perhaps this is the vision/power that Dainsleif has? Maybe even the creator or maybe he even taught Albedo’s Master how to do Khemia. I don’t think he really encompasses the Geo vision (I will seriously write an 11 page essay on how vision’s correspond with their holder). We don’t know a lot about Dendro but I think he might be related to it. But just like Khaenri’ah, he’s reflects the opposite. Instead of “birth of life” and tree’s, he’s the “death of life” and ash. (wow doesn’t that sound deep lolol sorry I don’t really know how to explain it). The way he talks in trailers, he says “mortals” a lot but does vouch for them so it makes me wonder if he might actually be a god. 

Also his title is the “Bough Keeper”. A bough means: a main branch of a tree. This makes me believe that he can either do something similar to what Albedo showed us and can create life or he does the opposite and creates ash. Honestly, a part of me believes he might just have generic moveset’s like everyone else but let me dream lol. 

Or he might not even be a vision holder since we don’t see him holding one, but we only have this angle and art to go off on. He might even use stars haha. If anyone remembers, during the falling star event, Scaramouche says the sky and stars were a gigantic hoax. I would not be surprised if the world is actually upside down or the “sky” isn’t even a sky at all. More like a sheet over Teyvat or some kind of illusion. 

Or another theory, perhaps Dainsleif is the god of time since he says in Travail during the Traveler chapter:

“Defeat me, command me to step aside, show me that you are worthier than I to rescue her. Then, the threads of all fate will be yours to re-weave“

It would explain how he knows so much about the other characters and what happened in the past since he brings up “the war” a lot. I’m assuming it’s either the Archon War or something before that. 

Or mihoyo could shred my thesis paper and Dainsleif has nothing to do with this and he’s some random guy from Khaenri’ah with plot convivence. 

---

I just want to mention at the bottom of this, but the classical elements are water, earth, fire, air and (later) aether. I find it funny that the male MC shares the name. 

“Aether, also called quintessence, is the fifth and highest classical element. It’s a material that fills the region of the universe above the terrestrial sphere.” 

“It permeates all nature and is the substance composing the celestial bodies. The essence of a thing in its purest and most concentrated form,”

Or this is just a hint to the traveler’s power since the traveler is the only one that can use all the elements. 

Possible moveset?

He might use stars or air/anemo in his moveset. He could be a very good dps with a lot of trapping potential. Or he might be a field effect support like Albedo, but can still do a lot of damage. 

Imagine Dainsleif uses stars haha, throwing them to do damage like Ningguang’s rocks. The splash art of him shows two stars in the top left. He might have a teleport (similar to Keqing + Mona dash), or maybe he could even have some sort of telekinesis with his right arm. I’m just getting Xayah from league of legends vibes where he can throw the star, it places itself at max range, then he can recall them and the star does damage on the way back. Similar to how Keqing’s elemental skill works but instead of teleporting to the stiletto, the stiletto comes back to you when you press e again. (Sorry I play on keyboard). 

The opposite of nature is void or cosmos so that could be relating to his power as well since the only animation we get of him is in Teyvat Chapter Storyline Preview: Travail (I’m just gonna say Travail) and this black mist comes from his hand and he says: 

“"We will defy this world with a power from beyond.”

Could be interesting hehe. He might even be a field effect character like Albedo. He doesn’t really strike me as the guy that likes fighting but in the Albedo trailer he says: 

“I am content to watch most crises play out from the sidelines. But if Albedo were ever to make a single wrong move...I could not let myself ignore it.”.

Seems to be that Dainsleif is pretty powerful or at least has some type of influence. It could be interesting if he’s similar to Zhongli and has a giant delete button for his elemental burst haha. Or he has some type of imprisonment power like Mona’s burst. Or as I mentioned earlier, it would be fun having telekinesis but this is just me taking liberties haha. 

(and yes I totally understand that I’m forcing the story to support my theory BUT IGNORE IT OK.)

Black Mist/Dust and Ash/Shadows?

Uh I gave up on these summaries lol 

I touched on it briefly but I say black mist or shadows since I believe that Khaenri’ah is probably not a good place to live originally. Similar to how Mondstadt was in the past, it is probably surrounded by some type of barrier (hence the mist or even the sky) that both traps and makes sure no one get’s in or out. Khaenri’ah is quite the opposite of most regions besides the whole “no archon” business but in “Travai”, when Dainsleif brings up Khaenri’ah this shows up:

It seems like a star to me in some hidden pocket in the sky and what not. This is what I would assume Scaramouche saw (possibly, we have no idea) and therefore there are people and an entire region that’s in the sky. But why would  Khaenri’ah be above Celestia? Since you can see Celestia in Teyvat. I would like to think that Teyvat is either upside down and Khaenri’ah is actually below everything or this pocket in the sky isn’t even in Teyvat and is similar to how you reach spiral abyss. You have to go through this circle in Cape Oath and you get sucked into this worm hole thing and you make it to Musk Reef. Where we saw Scarachmouche and he tells us the sky is a hoax. 

This idea kinda supports my idea that Teyvat is either upside down or the sky isn’t real since how could Dainsleif know who all these people are (since he narrates all the 5 star character’s trailers). Either the man is just really smart and travel’s around a lot but he’s aware of who Zhongli is, an archon from 6000 years ago. This makes me believe he is either a god himself or if he is also a homunculus. Or he’s in the third category and perhaps he’s also a traveler like the main character’s.

I don’t believe he’s an archon but it would be interesting if he was a potential candidate for becoming the Khaenri’ah archon. Since I believe vision holders (human) can become archons and rise to Celestia but Dainsleif refused or he was capable of becoming an Archon

“A human with a Vision is an allogene — one with the potential to reach godhood; however, it isn't clear if having a Vision is a requirement, or simply makes a person more likely to meet the qualifications to reach Celestia.”

But going back to the state of Khaenri’ah, I’d like to think that since the art of Khemia is from Khaenri’ah that would mean that they had to learn how to make their own food and life since they didn’t have an archon to bless their lands. Barbatos had swept the snow and land away in the region of Mondstadt but Khaenri’ah doesn’t have that luxury. Naturally, I would imagine that there are some downsides of Khemia when it was first being practiced, hence the ash. But ash isn’t a bad thing, in fact you can use ash to amend soil and boost your lawn. 

But obviously having a vision would be a whole lot more useful since it’s literally god given talent/blessing so if you have a vision, you might be able to break out and go to the “above” world of Teyvat. If you have a vision you’re seen as being blessed by the gods and you might be able to ascend to Celestia itself. I believe that Khaenri’ah is secretly the abyss and doesn’t see the sun so it’s always dark and it’s hard to grow anything so the people of Khaenri’ah had to find ways to make their own food, hence alchemy. This could be why Dainsleif is so adamant about humanity and questioning the Archons and visions. 

If we are going on the theory that Dainsleif is actually a normal human, then I’d like to imagine he was one of the people that prayed for a vision or some type of blessing and finally got it. But an incident happened and he lost his faith or resolve in the Archons. He mentions it a tiny bit in the Diluc trailer but this is just me spit balling. 

Also, Kaeya’s talents also mention about an abyss and void before the change. I don’t think abyss was made to relate to the abyss order and more the actual definition of abyss but it’s still interesting. 

What is Khemia?

Well I don’t know and I don’t know how accurate google is but let’s try and go through it together. I have no idea if what I’m about to type is offensive since I do not have a history degree and I’m pretty much paraphrasing what google tells me.

---

So Khemia, is an Egyptian sacred science. When Egypt was occupied by the Arabs they added “al-” to the world “Khemia” and “al-Khemia”. Al-Khemia means “The Black Land” and is now seen as a possibly origin of the world alchemy. 

Not gonna lie, I did not know al-khemia meant the black land so idk if my hindsight is 2020 or it was just super obvious for my monkey brain. 

As for the world “Chemeia”, it was used to designate the art of metal-working, specifically changing base metals into gold and silver. The Arabs later prefixed it with “al” and the world “alchemy”. Alchemy came to signify the art of chemistry in general. However the word "Chemeia” was probably derived from the Greek word “chemi” which means “black”. This could be because: 

In the sense of "dark" or "hidden", since the Dark, Hidden or Divine Art was the only name by which this science was known to the ancients.

However, the word chemistry might have had a Chinese origin.  It may have been derived from the Hakka term KIM-MI or the Cantonese term KEM-MAI, which signifies "gone astray in search of gold" or "secret of gold". 

Assuming it’s from Egyptian origin, the ancient Egyptian word khēmia means the transmutation of earth, thereby the science of matter at the atomic to molecular scale. According to some etymologists, khēmia or “preparation of black powder” ultimately derived the name from Khem or Kēme, Egypt, the land of black earth. 

---

So if we are going with the Chinese origin, I’d like to think that this is a hint towards the story and people trying to find the “gold” or perhaps a vision. This could explain why Kaeya was sent to Mondstadt to hopefully require a vision and come back. 

What is the lore behind Khaenri’ah then?

So, why do I think the people of Khaenri’ah are looking to be saved or want a vision so badly? Well, time to go through the entire Khaenri’ah lore with you lads. 

The Khaenri’ah lore goes as this:

At least 200 years ago, the Eclipse Dynasty threw the kingdom into chaos (meaning it was the last Dynasty).

The people were cursed and transformed into monsters.

Mondstadt’s Knights and Grand Master Arundolyn went on an expedition to Khaenri’ah to fight off the monsters.

In the present,  Khaenri’ah is still struggling against the effects of the curse. Kaeya was sent to Mondstadt as their last hope and for the sake of the “ancient plot”.

1. For those not aware, China’s time periods were separated into Dynasty’s (sort of). The Chinese characters of “Eclipse Dynasty” are [古国黑日落] or "The Ancient Civilization of the Black Sunset". There is probably some type of history or connection to this since Zhongli’s voicelines are full of them but this post is long enough and I don’t know if people want to or care about hearing Chinese history but um let me know? Cause I’m really into that and I will gladly write about it.

2. We’re not completely aware if the people transformed into Hilichurls or were apart of the Abyss Order. But since the last dynasty was literally called Eclipse I would like to believe this supports my idea that Khaenri’ah isn’t someplace you can easily reach and you have to entire a fucking worm hole to get to. I’m in love with the idea that Khaenri’ah is the spiral abyss or at least part of it, that Childe fell into when he was a younger. Perhaps even the spiral abyss is where he landed since time technically doesn’t pass in spiral and it’s just a wave of enemies. I would 100% not be shocked if we have to enter the that wormhole to get to Khaenri’ah or something similar. 

3. Arundolyn was a previous Grand Master and while he did not possess a Vision, he was naturally gifted through intense training. He was formerly one of the Four Winds and had the title of “Lion of Light”. So Khaenri’ah is possible to get to and someone from Mondstadt has done it, but without a vision. The Traveler also doesn’t carry a vision so it might be interesting to see. Kaeya didn’t get his vision until he was 18? 17? When he had a falling out with Diluc. 

I would like to think that perhaps the Archon’s betrayed Khaenri’ah or someone fucked up in their pursuit to develop Khemia to it’s fullest potential or wanted to make their own vision, hence the delusion and how it transforms Childe into a foul legacy form. The Dragonspine lore could point to how Celestia has the power to seal away Khaenri’ah. This also might have been where Dainsleif lost his resolve (assuming he’s a human and just happened to get some sort of power or is really good at Khemia he saw the past or fate or whatever lol)

“Murals, Record of Serial No., and other lore bits in Dragonspine indicate that those who dwelled there attempted to fight against Celestia but lost. As punishment, the Skyfrost Nail was dropped, and the area was turned into a frozen wasteland.

Therefore, people with visions cannot enter Khaenri’ah because of the Archon’s and people that receive visions (which I still think is highly unlikely if you’re in Khaenri’ah) might be able to break out. Think of spiral abyss as some sort of “purgatory” except to enter Khaenri’ah you go down. To get out, you start AT FLOOR 12 and make your way up. Similar to Kid Icarus and how the hardest level was at the beginning and as you went up, it slowly became easier. 

4. I like the idea that Khaenri’ah is a land that either doesn’t have vision holders or the people that do have visions aren’t seen the same way as other regions. People are are actually cursed by the Gods or people that require visions leave Khaenri’ah because they now have the power to. In Travail Dainsleif says this:

"Some say a few are chosen and the rest are dregs, but I say we humans have our humanity. We will defy this world from a power from beyond”

Naturally these are his ideals and I’d like to believe that Khaenri’ah is actually split on this. Some believe in Dainsleif ideals while the other half doesn’t. If we’re going on the theory that Khaenri’ah is actually the abyss then the abyss order makes a bit more sense. 

Plus the idea that Lumine/Aether (I think the story is just going to stick with Lumine being the “villain ”) working for the abyss, it could be because their twin was separated by an unknown god. Aether was asleep and plagued by nightmares with his sister saying “it was too late”, perhaps he lost his memory since he doesn’t know what he was late for? Maybe this is what she meant since I’d assume the story has you going from place to place and the Archon’s stepping down like in Liyue and the Tsaritsa collecting all the gnosis. 

Why is the Tsaritsa collecting all the gnosis?

“She is a god with no love left for her people, nor do they have any left for her. Her followers only hope to be on her side when the day of her rebellion against the divine comes at last."

I can imagine that Tsarista or the Cyro archon is collecting all the gnosis because she believes in the Khaenri’ah attitude and is apart of the ancient plot or is trying to protect them somehow since she isn’t an evil person based on Childe’s voicelines:

“Her Royal Highness the Tsaritsa is actually a gentle soul. Too gentle, in fact, and that's why she had to harden herself. Likewise, she declared war against the whole world only because she dreams of peace. And because she made an enemy of the world, I had the chance to become acquainted with you.”

Or maybe even more interesting, she was actually a citizen of Khaenri’ah since the Tsaritsa wasn’t apart of the original seven but this is a huge stretch. Maybe she’s collecting all the gnosis to finally break the seal on Khaenri’ah? Plus the people of Sneznaya strike me as “I don’t care if you’re blessed by the gods or have a vision, if you can fight then you’re good in our books”. Plus the people of Khaenri’ah are probably pretty mad at the Archons so when the rebellion does come I’d assume the Tsaritsa wants them on her side. 

What happened to Kaeya?

Now Kaeya’s character story goes into how he met Diluc and Crepus. It’s hinted that it was on purpose since Kaeya’s father left him there specifically. 

"One afternoon near the end of summer a decade ago, my father and I passed by the Dawn Winery."

This matter-of-fact description hides a carefully constructed lie. Kaeya has never once spoken the truth about what happened that afternoon:

"This is your chance. You are our last hope."

Kaeya would never forget the look of both hope and hatred in his father's eyes as he uttered those words.

Now you can interpret this as many things, either collecting all the gnosis and obtaining a vision to hopefully come back to save Khaenri’ah could be what he meant or he want’s Kaeya to stop the Abyss Order from literally setting Teyvat on fire. You can probably sympathize with the Abyss Order if we are following the theory that they are actually the mutated monsters of Khaenri’ah citizen’s during the Eclipse dynasty but it’s also like, how about we not set the world on fire ya know?

But interestingly, the reason why Kaeya’s father left him with Diluc’s family is because they have a long history of participating in the rebellion against Decarabian 2,600 years ago and Vennessa’s rebellion against the Aristocracy. 

What will happen when Dainsleif get’s introduced?

So, I’m fully on board with the “Kaeya being the secret prince of Khaenri’ah” theory. I like the idea that Dainsleif is Kaeya’s servant or trusted advisor but I think that’s mainly rooted in the ship. Dainsleif strikes me more as someone who observes and only steps in if he has to because it might affect fate or whatever.

“I am content to watch most crises play out from the sidelines. But if Albedo were ever to make a single wrong move...I could not let myself ignore it.” 

I don’t think Dainsleif is the King of Khaenri’ah that Jean mentions in her hobbies voiceline but perhaps he was related to them somehow. Maybe the first King or the King that Jean mentions was real and Dainsleif was his friend or the God that helped him become King, then the Eclipse Dynasty happened and everything went downhill. Since I believe in Kaeya being a secret prince from  Khaenri’ah, Dainsleif would still be somewhat loyal to the Kingdom or perhaps he had lost faith after what happened and how so many people got corrupted and turned into monsters. 

I was talking about this with my friend but what if genshin pulls an fgo and “kills” Kaeya? Similar to FGO where Leonardo “died” in a car accident and when we visited a shop, there was just a hologram. What if genshin’s story kills Kaeya in a cutscene, and we can no longer use him since Kaeya was a free character, only to return as - THE 5 STAR WE WERE ALL WAITING FOR - the prince of Khaenri’ah.

When will we see Dainsleif?

According to the “Travail” the order of appearances is this: 

I believe part 1 is finished with Zhongli and dragonspine was just an add on for Albedo. But this makes me believe that Dainsleif and Khaenri’ah will be after we go to Snezhnaya. Also side note, the music for Natlan slaps hard. 

---

But yeah, I kinda went a bit off track and started talking about the story haha. I really love lore so if anyone has any questions about other characters or want’s to discuss the genshin story I am all ears^^. Also, if any of this becomes true in two years time I WILL BE BACK TO SAY I TOLD YOU SO. 

Or genshin prepares to rip this post apart and none of it is true. If you actually read my word vomit I appreciate you and you get a free cookie. If you’re wondering where I’ve been, it was writing this haha. 

[chocolate-parfait]

Hiii! I saw that your requests are open, and I want to ask for a Mozart scenario 👉👈. MC/Reader (whichever you prefer) has gone back to her time for a long time (even tho she wasn’t planning for long) but when she comes back she also has Mozart’s kid in her arms (but everyone knows before him coz he is obviously at his piano lmao). So the residents plan to surprise him? If it’s too specific feel free to ignore this. Make sure you sleep sufficiently and drink some water😗😗 thank u in advance :)

Sorry it took me so long! I barely had the time to sleep this past month😳 I hope it was worth the wait-

A gift from Fate - Ikemen Vampire (Mozart)

“I don’t think we should listen in on them...” The cherry haired man whispered.

“Shh Ai-chan. Mozie-kun might hear us!”

“Tofu lover here is right, old Newt. And how could we pass up a chance of seeing that cold-hearted wolf shed a tear or two? It’s a once in a lifetime occasion!” Added the writer, resting his left hand on the scientist’s shoulder.

“Ugh, why did I even ask you two, of all people... Sebastian, tell them something already!” Isaac lamented once more.

“Unfortunately, Master Isaac, I’m afraid to say I’m quite curious myself to see Master Mozart’s reaction. It’s for scientific purpose, after all.”

“For what?” Nine pairs of eyes flew to the butler’s figure.

“Oh, nevermind that.”

"Leonardo, would you mind throwing your cigar away? They'll catch the smell of it" Comte’s placid tone filled the small space.

"What, you curious too, "Comte"? Heh, as his majesty desires" Leonardo complied, putting out his cigarillo against the ground with a dramatic gesture, gaining a displeased glance from the nobleman.

"...thank you. Oh, I believe he's almost there. Everybody, please be quiet."

As their sire spoke these words, all the vampires got closer to the small opening of the door. Some could barely see anything, but the wooden surface was thin enough to let any and all sounds reach the hidden listeners’ attentive ears.

The person that had them all hidden in a small storage room adjacent to the parlor was none other than Mozart. The love of his life had just returned from the future with a surprise of a companion glued to her side, but the man was yet to show his face. He had been, as always ever since her departure a couple of years before, focused on composing his tunes, now devoid of their old brightness and tempo, just like the composer himself.

It was as clear as day that, although his external composure remained unchanged, his heart had decided to freeze himself, a thick layer of frozen indifference to hide a pain akin to that of being torn in half, cruelly and mercilessly. Whenever he let his guards down even the slightest bit, he found himself on a battlefield over which time had no influence whatsoever, and where the ice and snow perfectly preserved the destruction and desolation born from his loss. The blood from a still fresh and open wound laid on the ground, as strong winds hit him with the warm whispers of a long-lost sun, nowhere to be seen.

That was the devastated state in which his being was left in, unaware of the sympathetic smile Fate was now offering him.

That day, a mysterious note found its way between the pianist’s hands, the words “Meet me at 18.00 in the parlor. It’s a matter of utmost importance” written in an impeccable cursive of other times, clearly belonging to one of the many inhabitants of the mansion. When it came to such intimate business, they usually preferred keeping a certain distance from unfolding events, but seeing the hesitation and fear of rejection on the woman’s face, they had all agreed to lend her a hand and give a little pull on the red string that connected the two lovers.

As punctual as ever, when the clock’s hands moved to the predetermined time, Mozart knocked stiffly on the door, finally making his entrance in the scene.

Barely two steps in the room and he found himself stuck in place, incredulous eyes fixed on the feminine figure in front of him. His violet eyes immediately found her face, and his body moved towards hers, attracted by an invisible force that had kept them tied to each other in spite of time and space. She was still as beautiful as he remembered, though his feverish dreams and hazy memories couldn’t hold a candle to the real her.

As impatience shook his body with a strong wave of trembles, with a quick movement he trapped her in a soul-crushing embrace that overflowed with all his longing and love; as his arms tightly caged her to his torso, he nuzzled her neck, finding her warm skin with the cold tip of his nose.

One deep inhale, then another. And another one.

She smelled divine.

Oh, how he had missed that dazzlingly sweet scent, those soft locks tickling his pale cheeks now flush with various emotions, that small pair of arms circling his body and squeezing him tightly. Was this a dream? Had he finally reached the afterlife for a second time? If so then he didn’t want to go back. If living in an illusion meant being with her then he was ready to throw away the real world with no second thoughts. But this, this was real. His mind had already acknowledged it, leaving the heart behind to process its own feelings.

“Meine Geliebte-” (my beloved)

“Mozart-”

They said in unison, voices mixing with harmony in a euphonious melody.

As he pulled back a little to look her in the eyes, a small voice came from behind her body. “Mama...” When Mozart lowered his eyes to meet the small figure’s, he was met with a small child, around 4 or 5 years of age. Before his thoughts could even reach the idea of betrayal, he couldn’t help but notice how every single feature, although still not fully developed, was a mixture of one of his and his lover’s own. The similarity was painfully clear, but once more the brain outrun the heart, and Mozart felt his heartbeat fall to his stomach.

“This is...” The woman started with a wavering voice, maybe from the emotion or perhaps because of insecurity. “This is our son, Charles.”

“Our... son...?” The pianist slowly repeated, trying to give more time to his now nearly-exploding heart.

Bending down to meet those violet orbs so similar to his own, he smiled fondly, reaching a hand out to slowly caress the boy’s head. As he did so, a myriad of realizations hit Mozart like a carriage running at full speed. He could not believe he had missed his son’s birth, his first steps, his first words. The fruit of their love, a life born out of their union. No amount of apologies and care could give him back all that, and the thought brought tears to his eyes.

“Papa! No leave Mama anymore!” The boy suddenly pleaded as he threw himself between his father’s arms. Oh, but of course he wouldn't. How could he? Not anymore. He wasn’t so stupid as to let that damned door separate them again, and not even God could part them anymore. But would the boy understand? He was but a stranger to him, and he did commit the terrible mistake of letting the only person he truly cared for slip away from his grasp once, so how could he blame him for having such thoughts?

“No, I won't. I promise you.” Placing a warm hand on his son's back, maybe as a way to seal his vow, he brought the small, trembling body closer to his chest, trying with all his might to instill in him the sense of security that only a father's embrace can give.

After silently witnessing the whole scene in solemn silence and stillness, smiles and some tears bloomed on the woman and the secret onlookers' faces. As the child shakily whimpered in his finally-found paternal figure's neck, his mother kneeled by his side, where Mozart's arm took her in as he pressed a chaste kiss on her lips. Their passionate reunion could wait for later that night, now all that mattered was being together, aware of each other's presence, warmth and smell. That was more than enough. “Thank you for coming back. Thank you for giving me another chance.”

Unfortunately for them though, an interruption soon came to disturb their peace. Low whispers came from behind the door, and the pianist's trained ear caught them with no effort.

"Woohoo, that was a good one, Wolfie!"

"Shouldn't we just go already? If he were to catch us he'd go on a rampage"

"Still, I wish I could give him a round of applause! It was really moving~"

Mozart turned his violet eyes, now chilly with cold annoyance, towards the source of the hushed voices, silencing them immediately. Though he would have to thank them for the note, he knew they wouldn't have let him hear the end of it with their teasing comments and jokes. Before his thoughts could take the highway to a possible massacre, Charles' brought his attention back to where it belonged.

"Papa... can you show me your piano?"

Such a simple request brought spring into his heart, once plunged into a state of eternal winter. Feeling his every cell overflowing with love and gratitude he simply nodded, adding: "Sure, shall we go?"

Well, his revenge could wait for later. Now he had a lot of catching up to do, both with his love and son, and making them wait longer was definitely unacceptable.

Perhaps Fate had truly decided to be a little kinder to him in his second life.

[rohirric-hunter]

Not to get too literary in my analysis of the writing of an MMO, or to dig too deeply into a narrative about autonomy in any video game, but I’m also having some thoughts about choices in Volumes III & IV, especially around the Dunland portion of the quest.

I’d always thought it was a little odd that they divided Dunland into the two distinct regions of Enedwaith and Dunland, and I guess for a long time I assumed it was to fill up space and that was more or less all. There are a fair number of side quests which seem reasonably fun, but the main quest stays there for... half an hour? Maaaaaaaybe an hour? Most of which is spent riding between Harndiron and Zudrugund. And then you leave with a bitter taste in your mouth. There are essential events, of course, the Forsaken Road and the introduction of Nona, but basically there’s no reason these things had to happen there, rather than in Dunland proper.

But there are certain thematic story beats, largely centered around the revelation of Saruman as the major villain of Vol. III, and it ties into the regional barriers. You’re aware of the risk Saruman poses, of course, but up through Enedwaith there’s this hope that maybe you’ve slipped under his radar. The moment you discover you haven’t is also the moment you move on out of Enedwaith into Dunland, where you proceed to hear of little else except for Saruman for a good long time.

Yes I said this was a narrative about autonomy. I’m getting to it.

One of the early Vol. III quests is the first Epic quest, if memory serves, to allow you to choose to influence events, when you can encourage Halros to either go with the Grey Company or stay behind. Of course when you are presented with this choice, there’s no possible way to guess how this will effect events down the road. After that you don’t make any choices for yourself for a while, but everyone else is making choices: Corunir chooses to invite Golodir to join the Grey Company even though you were explicitly told not to invite him. Halbarad chooses a lot of things, most of which end badly. I give Halbarad especially a hard time over some of his choices, but I’ll come back to that. For the first bit of Vol. III, everybody’s choosing something.

In Enedwaith, the choices start to dwindle. You are told to do this, and that, to slay traitors in memory of Wadu, to go fetch herbs to make a draught for Nár, to track down messengers and seek out books and so on and so forth. None of these things are objectionable things, but the quests do become a bit. Cluttered? Busy? Running from one little thing to the next, never suspecting that all these tasks are perhaps distracting you from something else? *cough*Tinnudir-Mordrambor-Amarthiel-Tadan*cough* You start to lose your ability to make wise choices in the chaos, and before you know it you’re knocking on the front door of a bunch of cursed undead oathbreakers, and that goes... quite a lot better than can be expected, actually, all things considered, and Corunir asks the real question:

Frithgeir did not want to, but at the end I gave him no choice, and he has brewed the drink and given it to Nár.

Hurry! Go now to Nár and ask him, once again, how he knows of the Oath-breakers! Ask him how he knows the words of Elrond concerning the Paths of the Dead! Ask him why my friends are dead!

Go! We will leave Zudrugund, but first I want to know why all of this had to happen!'

(Oh, there it is again, choice.)

Why did this happen? Why didn’t any one of a number of potentially better choices get made? And you learn your answer: because Saruman meddles. Because there’s a wizard at hand who thinks he has the right and the power to make choices for other people. Théoden will say, “were you ten times as wise you would have no right to rule me and mine for your own profit as you desired,” and Saruman will not answer, but he disagrees, quite strongly.

Anywho, when you move on to Dunland proper a few veils are pulled back. In Galtrev many of the people are enslaved, and the slavers think you’re on their side, and while you choose not to use their methods, you’re all still a part of Saruman’s war machine (and it’s unclear how much this changes at the end of the Galtrev questline). You move on to Tûr Morva and there are a lot of uncomfortable things happening, but one that stuck out to me was Radanir -- Radanir will muck out ox-pens whether he chooses to or not. The people of the Falcon Clan... well, they do as Lheu Brenin does. And as for you, you do as Lheu Brenin says, and there’s a certain contrast, you know, between him and Théodred. Théodred is rash with his words and makes no secret of some of his thoughts that perhaps ought to be kept private, but he lets you go and do as you please, and even his ruder comments are born from genuine respect and concern, the hope that maybe you will take his opinion into account while making an informed choice.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” the game says, silently. “Yes, these people are just ridden with details that make them suspicious, but you don’t have a choice. You don’t. Have. A choice. You need allies.”

That ends... much worse than could have been expected.

All the veils are pulled back and now you’re in Isengard and you’re a slave, and ironically you quickly start to have more autonomy than you have in some time. It’s a game of making the Uruk-hai look the other way long enough to get something done, working to make them underestimate you in order to leverage the choices you do have. And there you meet Acca, who never understood, not really, and didn’t think of power and rings and great kingdoms, but he knew, on a given day, in a given situation, the difference between wrong and right, and insomuch as he knew, he made his choice, and he paid for it dearly.

And after that there is no choice, truly this time -- you escape Isengard, and you return to Tûr Morva, and you begin reaping the rewards of your previous choices: the supplies you gathered for the Falcons, the traps you laid for them, their warriors you helped train. Halbarad does not say it, but he is reaping those rewards too, when the survivors gather outside the prison caves and he performs a head count, and he’s aware, he doesn’t need an irate player to remind him, that it was his choices that led him there.

Then, Troubled Dreams. You choose to follow the dream, to head north.

Horn chooses to offer Nona what aid he can, even when everyone is telling him not to.

Horn and Corudan choose to travel with you.

Nona chooses to move on from the ghost of her brother, and find something for herself.

You choose to follow Éomer to Edoras.

When the time comes you choose to ignore your banishment.

And then a wrench is thrown in the words: a seer. Is there choice, when the future has been seen?

Horn believes there is. Nona believes there is not.

Horn rides to Minas Tirith. You reap the rewards of the choice you made in the beginning of Vol. III. And the volume ends with Horn, if he survives, wondering. Why did he survive when Halros did not? What choices led Halros there, to that moment where he gave up his own life for that of a stranger? Why did he make that choice? And what does it mean? What does all the sacrifice mean, in the end? What do all the choices mean?

If Horn does not survive, according to the Wiki, Elfhelm celebrates the sacrifice of Golodir, who avenged his fallen son, never knowing the bloody, bloody choices that led him to that moment, every single one of them the wrong one, somehow.

At this point the PC is offered the wonderful gift of being able to pass the making of decisions off to Aragorn and Gandalf.

[popwasabi]

“Who are you?” The scene that defines Chadwick Boseman’s legacy

Yesterday, the world lost a bright and promising, burgeoning talent in Chadwick Boseman.

I had wondered privately for a while if something was wrong with him, as others had as well online, as he appeared increasingly sicker with each interview he gave over the last two years. I thought maybe I had been looking too much into it, not wanting to jump to conclusions about who he was but now gravely we all know why.

The much too young star of films such as “42,” “Marshall,” and of course, “Black Panther” had been fighting a largely private battle with colon cancer for four years.

It was devastating hearing this news yesterday, the man who undeniably left behind a legacy of playing prominent black heroes, both historical and fictional, passed away just as he was starting to truly hit it big. When you begin to realize the man was dealing with cancer as he performed physically demanding roles in the MCU you begin to see the character and determination of a man unwilling to quit in the face of true adversity.

But he clearly wasn’t just doing it for himself when he continued making and promoting NINE more movies despite his diagnosis, afterall no one would’ve blamed the guy for taking it easy these past four years. He’s had many scenes that define his legacy over his all too short career but I feel it can really be summed up in one particular moment from by far his most famous film; “Black Panther.”

Those who know me or have read my work know that I have a fairly cynical relationship with the Marvel Cinematic Universe. While I would not say most of them are “bad” per se, I would say a ton of them are largely interchangeable action comedies with pretty straightforward messages about good vs evil for general audiences. They are largely popcorn escapism and though there is nothing technically wrong with that, I was starved for an MCU film that was sincere about its story finally and had something real to say.

Enter “Black Panther” in early 2018.

“Black Panther” was everything I had long been waiting for in the MCU; a film with a real sense of vision and theme, a killer soundtrack, great supporting characters, a complicated and nuanced villain, and a story that didn’t feel the need to add a joke after every single scene like more typical MCU movies. The tip of that spear of course was Chadwick, who had already proved to be a great Black Panther in one of the few other sincere Marvel flicks “Civil War.” His natural charisma, physicality, and dramatic presence in this role made him a huge standout in frankly the best ensemble cast of any superhero movie ever.

The scene that truly sums up not just the mark “Black Panther” left on Hollywood but Chadwick’s own legacy comes at the very end though (the first of three, of course. It’s an MCU movie, afterall).

T’Challa has defeated his usurper cousin Erik Killmonger, his rule restored in Wakanda but clearly a changed man from the story’s beginning as he reckons with the complicated legacy of his father. He travels to Oakland, the birthplace of Killmonger, with his sister Shuri who he explains the crime committed by their father in this place and how it set off the events of the story. He turns to Shuri, tells her that he has decided to help this afflicted community by creating a Wakandan outreach center for the youth to give them a new hope in life. As he says this he decloaks their ship nearby, surprising the youth already in the area who are immediately in awe of it. One of the kids turns to T’Challa, smiling, a sense of inspiration and intrigue brewing inside, and asks “Who are you?” to which the young King simply smiles, then the credits roll.

It’s a simple scene but it truly speaks to the impact left behind by Chadwick and the importance of representation. 

“Black Panther” is hardly the first starring vehicle for a black man, it’s not even the first black super hero movie but what it made it different is it was the first blockbuster to truly lean unapologetically into its African identity to focus on the inspiration of a story centered around that culture. It showed Hollywood that an action blockbuster not just centered on a black star but centered on African culture had vast widespread appeal.

White kids will never have a shortage of white superheroes to grow up with on the big screen; a diverse palette of Supermans, Spider-mans, Captain Americas, and shit we’re even getting our sixth new Batman actor since 1989 soon. But Chadwick gave black kids their first real Superman of their own. 

In the years since this came out, I have seen the influence, at times, firsthand among the youth. I work part-time as a kids martial arts instructor and each Halloween party we’ve held I’ve seen a few more T’Challas among the costumes represented. When I ask kids, black, white, or Asian, what their favorite superhero is, it always warms my heart to see a kid light up when they say “BLACK PANTHER!”

(Seriously, cute AF)

This goes beyond just my anecdotal observations of course; the film grossed a billion dollars, and there are countless videos online of kids yelling “Wakanda forever!” at the top of their lungs while rocking a Black Panther suit or reciting one of the movie’s memorable lines. It’s beautiful because it speaks to that last scene’s key message; inspiration.

Growing up myself, as a half Asian American, there weren’t a ton of role models who looked like me to take inspiration from. I didn’t really understand how much this could affect me until I finally did start seeing people like myself occupy positions of influence. I didn’t start caring for baseball until I saw a slugger named Hideki Matsui smash a couple dingers in a Yankees’ uniform in the early 2000s. I didn’t care much for martial arts, outside my very early youth, until I witnessed a half Japanese Brazilian named Lyoto Machida KO Thiago Silva at UFC 94 in 2009. I didn’t care much for soccer until a striker named Keisuke Honda played out of his mind in the early rounds of the 2010 FIFA World Cup.

Sometimes you gotta see something happen in order to believe and be inspired by it and it’s easier to visualize it when you see someone who looks like you do it. That’s what representation means and why it’s important.

It’s easy for white America to dismiss the need for representation in media when theirs is so saturated in the culture everyday. Cries of “wHaT aBoUt wHiTe HiStORy mOnTH?!” delivered unironically while their history is proudly given front seat consideration in all forms of media, film, and influence every day. This is why it drives me so crazy when a white person tells me “representation isn’t important” because apparently, they “don’t need it.”

Well motherfucker, of course you don’t need it. You fucking got yours already!

(What every non-white person wants to say when confronted with this tired, out of touch argument...)

“Black Panther” delivered a superhero that not only black children could be proud of and love but someone they could draw inspiration from. Kids are going to want to become film directors cause of this movie, actors, stuntmen, martial artists, scientists, engineers, and so many other different things that the world of Wakanda proudly showcases and it’s all thanks to Chadwick’s leading man performance that made it possible.

Some jokes I’ve heard frequently on the internet is that Chadwick was on somewhat of a quest to play every major black role in story-telling history, what with performances as Jackie Robinson, Thurgood Marshall, James Brown, and of course Black Panther. But I think his 2018 speech at his Alma Mater of Howard really explains why he kept looking to play these major positive black roles.

(I encourage you to listen to the whole thing but the part that’s important here begins at 21:55)

Hollywood likes to pigeon hole certain demographics of people (aka non-white) to play stereotypical roles forever until they are proven to be lucrative in different ways (Qualified Immunity of film-making if you will…). Black people largely could mostly play thugs and drug dealers, Latinx can only be gang bosses and poor servants and gardeners, Asians are either kung fu masters or some other offensive perpetual foreigner. And in worst cases no role at all, instead whitewashed for general audiences (aka white folk). 

Chadwick took a stand that the color of his skin did not define who Hollywood narrowly believed he could perform as and set out to play characters and people who could inspire a new generation of African Americans and show the rest of the country that they were more than a stereotype.

When that young kid in that final scene asks, “Who are you?” and T’Challa smiles its because he knows he’s already changing hearts and minds for the future, just as Chadwick did playing this truly inspirational role.

“Black Panther” is not a perfect movie. I could discuss the ways it could’ve been better and even, less problematic in parts on a different day, but the legacy it leaves behind is one that’s undeniably positive and Chadwick was able to make that a reality. Perhaps he understood that if the world knew his diagnosis it would blunt the impact of “Black Panther’s” release, that if little kids and African Americans alike knew their superhero was already dying it would mar the film’s positivity and influence. I can’t speak for the dead obviously, and in no way am I saying one should just push through a cancer diagnosis and keep it secret, but I can see Chadwick understanding what it would mean for the audience if they just believed for as long as possible that they would have their king of Wakanda forever.

As Robert Downey Jr. said on social media last night “He leveled the playing field while fighting for his life.”

Though I will never know him personally, by most measures Chadwick seemed to be exactly the kind of hero he showed up to be on the big screen and his legacy will ultimately be that of one who looked to inspire others, particularly the next generation until his final breath. If that doesn’t make him a hero, I don’t know what does.

Rest in power, King. Wakanda Forever…

(Via BossLogic)

[rainythefox]

Nightfall (CH.16)

Synopsis: Pre-Resident Evil 1, slight-AU/Canon Divergence. Claire Redfield comes home to visit her  brother Chris for the holidays but gets caught up in a dangerous game of  cat and mouse with Albert Wesker, the Captain of STARS, after stumbling  upon dark secrets. She can’t call the law; Wesker is the law, and she  can’t tell Chris. She is trapped…Claire/Wesker & Slight Chris/Jill (There’s Wesker & William Bromance too lol). Rated M for smut, language, violence, adult content.

AO3 Link

Chapter 16: Mine

Warning: this chapter contains lots of smut. You’ve been warned, okay? Okay! :P Because of this, only the first section of the chapter is available on Tumblr. Please follow the link to AO3 to read the rest. Thank you! :)

Okay, she knew her luck had taken a big dump recently, but this was ridiculous! If she thought the university job was difficult, she promptly changed her mind. That was a walk in the park compared to this. Claire stared at all the people. The exquisite party was happening at the ritzy Orient Restaurant on the second floor of the most luxurious hotel in the city, Central Hotel.

There had to be close to a hundred people here! The whole restaurant was closed to cater for the invitation-only event. Why did she even assume this “Christmas Party” was going to be just a group of rich, old dudes bragging all night? With how her luck has been, she should've known better!

Claire gaped at the man beside her who was unfortunately the closest thing she had to a friend at the moment. She recalled William’s little “briefing” on the drive over here.

“The party’s not gonna be that big. Just a simple “get in, get out”. You’ll be home in no time! Actually, you’ll probably be at Al’s home in no time!”

He was still rubbing his arm where she decked him.

“This is nothing like how you explained it!” she hissed.

But the mad scientist only half-heard her, his eyes lit up as though he was a kid about to enter his very first amusement park. Something in here was on his kill list because Claire overheard he wasn’t a stranger to parties, at least not to parties like this that could get him something he wanted. 

William was actually quite handsome all cleaned up in his suit. Claire had grown accustomed to his usual disheveled appearance that made him attractive in his own way.

He grinned slyly. “Oh relax, sweetheart. You’ll be fine. Most of these people are total bores…losers just out trying to feel important. They got nothing on you!” He winked at her. “You know what to do, who to find. Ada’s on your earpiece and Al and I are here to watch your back. Don’t worry. Al _definitely _won’t let you out of his sight. Just…don’t distract him too much. I need him focused tonight.”

“Are you fu-”

“Erica!” William nearly squealed, waving both arms and abruptly abandoning her. “Is that gown designed by Broca’s aphasia? Because I’m speechless!” 

Claire glared at the fickle bastard as he ditched her to join some other people standing around talking and drinking. She was on her own for now.

“Forget about him, Claire. Just focus on getting to Bennett. Best not drag this out longer than we have to and risk exposing ourselves,” Ada said on her earpiece.

“Okay,” she mumbled, and got into character, her natural Redfield bravado and assurance making it easy to stroll through the party like she owned the place.

It was a beautiful Asian restaurant. Most of the dark tables were accented with candles and glasses. The lounge-like chairs were colorful and comfy, and the tall ceilings gave way to soft LED string lights, oriental paintings and sectioned lattices. In warmer seasons, the same kind of setup could be seen on the massive balcony, but it was currently closed off.

She felt many eyes on her as she started her objective. But she only cared about one set of eyes as she discreetly scanned the place for them.

This many people here was both a blessing and a curse for her mission, and it could go either way real quick at any time. More people meant no room for mistakes, too many eyes. But on the other hand, this many people distracted amongst themselves could make it easy to get away with nearly anything.

Claire soon found the eyes she had been seeking, felt the familiar, pleasing burn on her skin they always caused. She traced them to an area with more people, where a grand, gold statue of Lord Yama sat. Directly in front of the god of death, Wesker was encircled by a small group, mostly beautiful women, and he charmed them effortlessly.

The younger Redfield had to keep herself from staring, also charmed by his chameleon smile, good looks, and striking black suit. Her nerves tingled from simmering blood. She couldn’t believe it. She was actually jealous?! Claire was angry with herself. How could she possibly feel anything of the sort over the man that was blackmailing her?

Besides...she knew Wesker well enough by now to know that it was all pretense. She was sickened and enthralled by how easily he could deceive and influence people. Ada was right. His calculating mind, his clever tongue, those were his deadliest weapons; not his hands, not his gun.

The statue of Yama was simply a backdrop to the true god of death in the room. His admirers probably had no clue and listened intently. The women batted their eyes, pushed out their chests, even the ones who had dates. And those men did nothing about it, perhaps too enthralled themselves or maybe it was the fact that Wesker had an uncanny ability to make most men around him submissive.

He may have looked like he was paying attention to them, his eyes concealed behind black shades, but Claire knew he was watching her. All of her. Every breath, every step, he was in complete tune. Something about that lit a fire in her belly so fierce, she trembled.

The jealousy she felt instantly crumbled. It didn’t matter if those women were rich or prettier or dressed in nicer dresses. They meant nothing to him. Not like she did.

And why was that, exactly?

Claire frowned, faltering mid-step, eyes still locked on Wesker across the room when she should've been moving on. She had some suspicions, if her gut and Ada and William were anything to go by. 

More importantly, why do you care?

“Claire?! Earth to Claire, hello?”

“Huh?”

“You aren’t exactly being inconspicuous staying in one spot drooling over Albert.”

Claire’s face flushed and she briskly walked away with a huff. “I’m not drooling!”

The first place she needed to check for her target would be the bar. Typical. It was in the back of the restaurant, low-lit, a massive, semi-circled bar with a marble countertop up against an airbrushed wall depicting a dragon floating through the clouds.

“Whatever you say, hun.”

Claire bit her tongue, taking a deep breath. “I was just happy to see him chatting up other women. Less problems for me.”

Ada sighed. “Claire, fishing is beneath you. First, they aren’t his type. More importantly, Albert detests easy women.”

That wasn’t her intention. “I wasn’t-”

“Unfortunately and fortunately for you, you are his type and are as difficult as they come. I probably shouldn’t be saying this, but you’re as close to obsession as he’s going to get romantically.”

The only fortune she could come up with was that it was unlikely Wesker would kill her. But obsession through people with sociopathic and psychopathic tendencies like Wesker were never a good thing. Her life might be spared at the end of all this...but at what cost?

Claire briskly pushed that thought aside, something cold and heavy dropping in the pit of her stomach. She needed to focus on finding Bennett and getting this over with. That was her excuse. After all, she wasn’t ready to acknowledge that her own growing infatuation would likely veer her into her captor’s arms for good.

She looked around the bar area. There were all kinds of high-status people attending Bard’s Christmas party. Doctors, politicians, city officials, even Mayor Warren and Chief Irons were here.

She recognized Mueller from Raccoon University having a casual conversation with the man that had to be her target. A picture was never granted, but a detailed description allowed her to quickly analyze him. It had to be him. Tall, average build, auburn hair and an anchor beard. He chatted with Mueller with a drink in his hand.

Just as Claire stepped their way, a strong grip snatched her wrist. She was spun around, coming face-to-face with Nathaniel Bard. He looked fine since the anaphylaxis she put him through with the shrimp, but the creep wasn't happy one bit with her, still keeping a painful grip on her arm.

"I knew I'd see your face again, girl. What happened at the university is all your fault."

Claire glared at him. "You're gonna be hurting more if you don't let me go right now."

The music and all the guests chatting around them helped conceal her threat from eavesdropping ears but the Spencer Memorial doctor heard her clearly.

He considered challenging her, lips pursing, but soon let her go after his eyes scanned the numerous faces within the party. "I know you're working with those two bastards. You have no idea how much harm you’ve caused me and several of my colleagues. Lowery was a good man, understand? He had a family. And now I’m trapped doing those two psychos’ bidding.”

“Maybe you aren’t the only one who is trapped.”

“Well then there’s more to your pretty face, isn’t there? They wouldn’t risk it otherwise.”

Who the fuck did this guy think he was? Claire clenched a fist, as it took all of her willpower not to break his damn nose. She had a job to do here. If she caused a scene in the middle of this party, especially with the man hosting it, then she could kiss her freedom and potentially Chris’s life goodbye.

She did let him in on what he was narrowly missing out on by grabbing his hand and twisting it slightly, squeezing hard on a pressure point. Just enough to make it really hurt, just enough to get her point across while looking like she was just holding his hand to nearly everyone else. “If my life didn’t hinge on fulfilling this job, you’d be on the floor with a broken fucking face, do you understand me?”

“Damn, Claire. I like your style,” Ada chimed in.

The younger Redfield ignored her and smiled, showing the guests they were having a pleasant conversation. Bard hissed in pain, quickly nodding. Claire released him and he jerked his hand away, shaking it off with a grimace.

“Listen, I’ll make the job easy for you. Just...do what you need to do and get out of here. Take those assholes with you. And never show your face at one of my social events ever again.”

“I’d love to, but it’s not my call. But...I have a feeling you know exactly who you can talk to about that.”

Bard scowled, rubbing his injured hand. He muttered something under his breath and motioned her to follow him, heading towards Bennett and Mueller in the back of the bar. “C’mon, and follow my lead.”

“Ugh, he better not screw this up.”

Bard put on a welcoming smile once they reached Mueller and Bennett’s table. Mueller recognized her, but didn’t say anything. She barely got a moment’s glare from him before he flashed Bard a guarded look, as if asking “what are you up to now?” The two men stood and the doctor shook their hands.

“Mr. Bennett! I trust you are enjoying the party? What kind of host would I be if I was neglecting my honored guest?”

He looked to be in his thirties maybe. His smile was warm as he nodded. He noticed Claire nearly right away, and there was a definite reaction of some kind. Attraction, she guessed, immediate infatuation. Great…

“Oh yes,” he said in a European accent. “I am grateful to you and Greg’s hospitality. You’ve made being so far from home much more bearable.”

“Good, good! It’s a shame your business partner couldn’t join us this evening. But I’m sure he had his reasons. You two are busy men, after all!”

Bennett nodded, composed yet amiable. “That we are. I’m sorry, but I have to ask, who is this beautiful young lady you have with you?”

Bard didn’t skip a beat in his front, presenting her with a grin like she was a piece of treasure up for auction.

“I know, stunning right? This is Elza. She’s one of my...assistants.”

The European man held out his hand with a handsome, friendly smile. It could’ve fooled anyone, and it almost fooled her. But her gut constricted at the last moment, her first indication something wasn’t right about this guy.

He took her hand and kissed it softly. “It is my utmost pleasure, Miss Elza. I’m Stephan Bennett. Please, just call me Stephan.”

Claire put on the sweetest smile she could muster, batting her lashes. “The pleasure’s all mine, Stephan.”

He looked her over, and although he was an attractive man, it made her skin crawl.

“Has Greg taken you up to your suite yet?” Bard asked cordially. “I’ve left you a little treat as a thank you for choosing to stay the night in Raccoon City’s famous Central Hotel!” 

Bennett ripped his eyes from Claire and shook his head at the host. “No, sir. I got the keycard to the room earlier, but wanted to check out the party before retreating for the night.” He presented a friendly, almost sheepish smile. “Honestly, I’m still a little messed up with the time zone changes. I didn’t think it would affect me this much.”

“That’s not a problem. My assistant and I will escort you up there. There’s a little bit of business I’d like to discuss with you anyway,” Bard replied.

“What about your party?”

“Eh, they’ll entertain themselves! Greg will take care of things while I’m gone. It won’t be but a few minutes.” Bennett glanced at Claire, expression unreadable, and Bard quickly added. “My assistant is completely trustworthy, don’t worry. She knows about our research.”

Bennett nodded, relieved. “Alright, lead the way, Nathaniel.”

Claire was uncertain what to do as Mueller shook hands with Bennett and bid them good night before heading for the bar. Her job was to stick a bug on the European businessman, probably so Wesker and William could track him straight to Aaron Roth. Leaving the party just tossed her whole plan into the garbage. This just got way riskier.

Nothing like winging a mission where my life’s literally at stake. What’s the worst that can happen?

��Great,” Ada whispered in her ear, not helping Claire’s gut feeling. “Wesker’s watching and listening through your piece. He says it’s fine. Just get that bug on Bennett without him knowing.”

Was that supposed to make her feel better that Wesker said it was fine? And how exactly was he able to do that anyway? That just made her earlier conversation with Ada a lot more awkward...

With a slight tick of her jaw, Claire composed herself with a friendly smile and followed the two men out of the restaurant and into the fancy, historical hotel.

They went to the lobby, a grand room with high ceilings, bright lights, and expensive carpet and decor. The elevator ride to the fifth floor seemed extra crowded, even though there were just three of them. Bard and Bennett chatted normally about their lives and careers. Claire didn’t like the frequent glances Bennett gave her. She waited for an opportunity, stayed vigilant with that inkling sprouting in her gut.

It got worse when Ada told her she lost visual on her from their location.

Wesker’s making you do this alone because he wants to see how you do, said a small voice in the back of her head. She didn’t have proof, but she wouldn’t put it past him.

She gave vague answers when Bennett asked her something, either curious and flirting or digging and deceiving. She wasn’t exactly sure.

Bennett scanned his card and held the door open to the big, two-bedroom suite. Bard strolled right on in but Claire hesitated, not wanting to put her back to these men. When she did, she felt his eyes all over her, and when he closed the door, he purposely brushed her to get by.

They stepped into the spacious living room first, accented with a bar and impressive kitchen. There was a home theater set up in the den, opposite a wall of glass that displayed downtown Raccoon City. Dark buildings silhouetted within soft glows of lights of all colors. Speckles of white rained down softly outside.

“You meant it when you said this suite had a view,” Bennett stated, drawn to the panorama.

Bard gave her a look, dipped his head in the direction of his “guest”, as if urging her to get her business done. Claire glared at him as he turned off to the bar instead.

“Yes, I did! And over here, something just for you, Mr. Bennett. Your favorite wine. All the way from home!”

“I don’t like this. Are you okay? Cough if you are.”

“How thoughtful of you, Dr. Bard. Thank you. You’ve gone out of your way to make me feel at home here.”

Claire didn’t like it either. She looked around, keeping up her appearance as she joined the men at the bar. She didn’t see any danger, but something like it was lurking about. Whatever it was, she was fine for now.

She coughed. “Oh, excuse me.”

Bennett watched her more than Bard, but she still couldn’t read his expression. Bard took the fancy bottle out of the container of ice. “Shall we have a glass while we talk?”

“Yes. I’d like that.”

That clicked an idea in her brain. Claire put a hand on Bard’s arm, mustering up the realest fake friendly smile she could handle, looking between the two men under thick lashes. “How about you gentlemen take a seat, get comfortable? Let me serve you.”

Bennett’s smile held something darker, but it was gone in a flash. Bard looked at her funny, but composed himself and slowly put the wine down on the counter. “Of course, Elza! You’re always the sweetest thing! Come, Stephan, over here.”

“What do you have planned, exactly?” Ada asked. “Ugh, I hate going by sound alone.”

Her cohorts had lied to her, she realized. William promised Wesker wouldn’t let her out of his sight and Ada said she would watch over her. Wesker didn’t say much to her before the party, but disclosed if she did what she was told, she would be fine. She was alone here and certainly felt something other than “fine” was coming her way.

The doctor and his guest went to the lounge chairs nearby, sitting across from each other. It was the perfect way for Claire to bug Bennett without him knowing. She opened the white wine and poured their glasses, giving them time to get settled in their seats and start talking. The more distracted they were, the better. It also gave her a moment to get the tiny tracking device ready.

The younger Redfield served Bennett first. She caressed her fingers up his arm, across his shoulder, stopped at the back of his neck, squeezing his collar gently. Her flirtatious smile was enough to distract him from Bard when she handed him his drink. She didn’t remain long, crossing to Bard and giving him his drink with the same smile, the same caress that made her skin crawl. She left them and returned to the bar, gathering up the wine bottle and ice bucket and placing them on the table in between the two men.

Claire eavesdropped on their conversation, but a lot of it made no sense to her. Big research, Sheena and Rockfort Island, Roth, Ashfords, prototypes, T-series. All similar topics that Wesker and William discussed and were involved with.

“You know, it’s strange how all of our business associates keep coming up dead or missing since we’ve been in town,” Bennett said after a long sip of his wine.

Bard grew quiet, confused, his fingers clenching around his wine glass. “What…do you mean?”

The European man looked at Claire, like he knew all of her secrets, not near as charming now. “You know what happened to them...don’t you, Miss Walker? Or should I call you Miss Redfield?”

Claire stiffened, nails digging into the chair arms. She dared not blink, glaring at him, keeping calm, but reeling underneath on how to react. He knew her name. Her _real _name.

Shit!

“Shit!” Ada echoed in her ear. “Claire, don’t do anything rash. Hang in there.”

It wasn’t as though she had much of a choice. She was on her own. Bard’s alarmed face told her everything. He was just as surprised as her, but would be too much of a coward to help her.

Claire took a deep breath. “I don’t know what happened to them.”

“I think Dr. Lowery would say otherwise.”

“How do you know my real name?”

The European businessman crossed one leg casually, swishing the wine in his glass, sharp eyes on her. “All it took was a little digging. You really shouldn’t use your mother’s maiden name as an alias, darling. Especially one as unique as hers.”

Cold steel bumped the back of her head. A gun.

Wesker had told her the same thing. Warned her.

She was careless to use it after not being prepared at the university. Now she was in real danger. The other wolves that Wesker claimed he was protecting her from had stalked her right into a corner. Then again, maybe he wasn’t expecting _this _pack. Or maybe he had and was ready to give her up as tribute for his own motives…

“Uh, Stephan, what’s going on, is t-this necessary?” Bard asked.

“Quiet, or you’ll have one to your head also.” Bennett motioned for Claire to stand. “My business partner, Aaron, would like to speak to you one-on-one, Miss Redfield. You have the time, right? You can help fill the gaps on what’s been happening to our dealings. We’re getting warm, but it seems as though everyone is too afraid to give us answers. Whoever you’re working for, we’ll cut you a nice deal if you expose them.”

Claire kept his gaze, defiant, silent. She had no choice but to comply. She had no weapons on her, no way to hide one in this dress. She slowly moved her hands down to her sides, preparing to push herself up, and felt it. The cold, metal coil of a corkscrew. She forgot she had brought it with her while serving the drinks.

Snatching it up between her fingers, she stood. The man who had the gun to her head pulled her out away from the chair. Bennett rose from his seat, finishing his drink and setting the empty glass down.

Bard shot up as well, looking between Claire and his guest, panicking. “Wh-What are you doing?”

There were two other men in suits now. They must’ve been hiding in the suite this whole time. Although they didn’t have weapons drawn, they were probably packing like the one behind her.

“Nathaniel, lying to me that she is your assistant? After what happened to Simon, I’m shocked. Someone’s got you cowering and afraid, just like Greg. Just like our friend the Police Chief.”

“I-It’s n-not what you think.”

Bennett nodded to the other men. They grabbed Bard by the arms, containing him. The European man pulled a gun equipped with a silencer from his suit jacket.

The doctor fought his captors. “Wait! No!”

Claire stabbed the man behind her in the groin with the corkscrew. He cried out as she spun, disarming him and shoving him away where he tumbled to the floor. She grabbed the bottle of wine and threw it at Bennett’s head just as he switched his gun on her. The bottle shattered on his face.

She didn’t get far with running. Not in that dress, not in those heels, before she was snatched by his men. A bash above her temple instantly made the world spin. Still, she fought, as weak as she suddenly felt.

Bennett was soaked, his face earning a few gashes from broken glass, blood mixing with golden-colored wine. He cursed, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. He grabbed her neck, squeezing hard.

“You little bitch! You’re lucky Aaron wants to speak with you, or you’d be dead!”

That’s when his arm snapped. Like a twig. He screamed. Claire, her vision still hazy from the blow to her head, realized he was attacked. His men were attacked; she was let go. A few blinks and she saw Wesker using some sort of martial arts to swiftly dispose of them. Not Bennett though. He raced away to his escape while holding his limp arm that flopped uselessly as he ran.

The STARS Captain had killed the other three. In seconds. With his hands. He paused, looking to the door where Bennett had fled, as if deciding whether to pursue him. He was over it in seconds though, grabbing her and pulling her to him. Not as rough as she had expected, but gentle wasn’t really in his nature.

“Hold still,” he commanded. She felt his hand on her head. He must’ve been examining the clout she had received. “Are you alright?”

There was some blood on his hand when he withdrew it, and she felt it trickling in her hair. It must’ve been just a small cut, otherwise it would’ve been all over her face by now.

“Yeah,” she said. And she was. It had only made her light-headed for a minute or so.

The nearby chair squeaked as it scooted on the carpet, and a muffled curse came from the other side. Wesker finally looked away from her, jaw clenching. He marched over to the furniture and kicked it. The chair crashed and skidded several feet away. Wesker seized Bard by the collar and picked him up, slamming him into the nearby bar counter. The sound his body made hitting the granite countertop made her flinch, and Bard’s yelp confirmed it.

“Wesker, wait, please! I d-didn’t know! I didn’t! I swear! He was gonna kill me too!”

“He was,” Claire confirmed. 

She had no idea why she defended the asshole, especially when he didn’t offer her any help before. But she could tell he was telling the truth. Wesker paused, but didn’t look at her, probably contemplating what to do with the doctor as he shuddered in his hands.

“Consider your...contract extended indefinitely,” Wesker growled, and shoved him over the other side of the bar. He put a couple fingers up to his ear, the same hidden piece she had. “Ada, William, we’re finished here. Ada, track Bennett. William, tell Irons he has a mess to clean up with Bard and Mueller.”

Bard got to his feet, shaken, his surprised eyes finding hers. The younger Redfield glared at him, a silent message he understood. She had spared him a cruel fate from the Devil. But she wouldn’t do it again.

She returned her gaze to the three bodies around her feet. The one she stabbed with the corkscrew had a snapped neck. The other two looked as though they had suddenly dropped dead, nothing to attribute to the hands of the STARS Captain. But she had seen it with her own eyes. And although it shouldn’t have, it lit a fierce fire in her lower belly, spreading when his arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her towards the door.

The flames were fanned when he whispered in her ear, his hand squeezing her hip. “You did exceptionally well, dear heart. You make me proud.”

When Ada told her Wesker would want to take her home after seeing her in her dress, she had denied wanting him to, denied she wanted to go home with him willingly. But after what she saw, how he held her close to him like she was his, and his alone, how his breath upon her ear titillated her, made her receptive to him only, she could no longer deny it.

Claire wouldn’t be able to stand the drive there. She wanted him. Wanted him to take her. She was a liar; it wasn’t just a one-time fling or a mistake. It was going to happen again. And she wanted it to, and would do nothing to stop it.

[mesmusae]

Severus: Lily

I know what Fandom says and thinks for the most part. And I know what Rowling has said. Both of which I reject. I don’t like this narrative that Severus was stalkery obsessed with Lily. I am disgusted at the “it’s a good thing harry wasn’t a girl who looked just like his mother” discussions. So let’s break down how I view their friendship.

Let’s start with them meeting. A lot of people take him watching Lily and Petunia at the park as creepy but here’s a few reasons why it’s not. 1) People watching. Literally everyone does this some. If you’re in a public place, you’re going to watch the other people there, see what they’re doing. 2) Shyness. Severus is clearly not a social person. He’s very introverted. Plus, we know he and his family are quite the social pariahs in the neighborhood. They’re looked down upon for being poor, and it seems that perhaps their family life isn’t so private either. He’s not just going to feel comfortable or safe approaching two girls who are from a much better off family. 3) Lily was doing magic in a public setting, in broad daylight. On purpose. For Severus, that’s quite impressive. And likely what caught his attention as well as being how he built up the courage to talk to her. He was like her, and it was clear he had answers that her family didn’t.

And that is how their friendship is born. It is born of this mutual thing they have in common. And Severus is getting to tell Lily everything he knows. She listens, she talks with him, asks him questions, everything. This is likely everything he doesn’t get at home. Lily has become a refuge. Which is perhaps unhealthy, but at this stage, she’s his friend. 

Their first obstacle comes at the sorting. It’s clear that Severus wants Slytherin. He is starting to believe the toxic pureblood rhetoric at a young age. But then again, two thirds of his interactions with muggles are extremely negative. You have his father, who resents Severus and Eileen for what they are. He punishes them for it. And then there’s Petunia. Who is envious of Lily (and likely Snape on the magic front if nothing else) and lashes out because of it. There’s also the muggles around him, in which he gets only pity and a blind eye from as well as sneers and jdugement. And he knows he’s more powerful than them. But he can’t do a damn thing with that. So unlike most prejudice against muggles wizards, his prejudice lies in his real life experiences as opposed to people like Draco who are just raised to believe that muggles are scum and wizards are the elite but have likely never even interacted with a muggle. 

He also wants Lily to come with him. Because he thinks she’s different. (Not a healthy mindset at all. But to him, she is the exception to the rule). Slytherin would not be a safe place for Lily (nor the safe place that he is expecting it to be for him). Though, I think if she’d been in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff it would have gone over better to him than Gryffindor. 

The rift here begins, I think for a couple of reasons. 1) James and his group are now trying to interact with lily. With James of course later in the years growing romantically interested as well. And while we know that Lily is rejecting James’ friendship and romantic advances throughout school, Severus has a lot of mental health issues. Thus, I think his issues stem more from jealousy and fear. Fear that Lily will one day decide that he isn’t worth her time. Maybe she’ll think that James and his gang are in fact better. And that would leave him alone again because 2) Slytherin is not the Sanctuary he thought it would be. Slytherin was supposed to be his home away from “home”. He’d be amongst his kind. Except that Slytherin is a pureblood and very rich house. Most of the purebloods come from Old Money. Classism is a massive part of that. So not only is Severus not a pureblood, but his family is poor. He wears hand-me-downs that are often described as feminine blouses, meaning they’re probably coming from his mother. Add to that, his only friend is a muggle-born. Which he is obviously judged and mocked for. But he’s loyal to Lily. To a fault, honestly. 

So he’s not only severely separated from his only friend from the start, but bullied by both the marauders AND his own housemates in Slytherin. And unfortunately, Lily is the cause to some degree on both sides. (that is not to say it is her fault. IT IS NOT HER FAULT. James’s decisions were his own, as well as the actions of those in Slytherin around Severus. And Severus’s actions in response are his own). 

Now at some point, his feelings turned romantic. And unfortunately, Severus did not have many sources to look at for what it really means to love someone. Because his parents certainly aren’t the answer. And everything else would be at a distant. Also, again because he has so little and because of those fears of losing her, he is slightly possessive about that. He sees James as a threat.

And he’s having to find some way to fit in when it comes to Slytherin. And he finds that with potions. A particularly difficult class, but he didn’t struggle. And he was quite adept at defensive magic as well as dark magic, thus starting to give him value to his peers. And he of course starts to fall into the classic “bullies are often people bullied themselves.” He starts to partake in bullying the muggleborns, using the word, mudblood, etc. just to fit in amongst his own peers. And Severus is not stupid. He’s also not blind (well, in some ways he is). He is bound to see that pureblood rhetoric against muggleborns is bullshit. His issues lies with muggles themselves more so. And still a lot of wizards. At this point in his life, he’s become bitter, quick to anger and defense. Anyone who does him the slightest wrong is against him. He’s learned not to really forgive. 

So let’s talk about the event. Snape’s worst memory. Where James is tormenting Severus, yet again. When Lily comes to his defense, and James tried to blackmail Lily into a date by using tormenting Severus, in a moment of weakness he lashed out at her. He used the term mudblood in regards to her. (And was then publically humiliated and shamed for it by James and the group). 

Yes. He waited in the hallway all night for her outside the Dormitory. To apologize. Regardless of anything, he did not want to hurt her. So he apologized. And when she rejected him (Which i think had less to do with him using the word against her and rather the fact that there had been a rift growing for years and this was just he last straw). But he accepted that. I think he knew their friendship was over and had been for quite some time. He left her alone, and thus was completely intergrated into Slytherin and those who were molding him and shaping him.

Now. Just because they stopped being friends, doesn’t mean the caring stopped. They had their childhood memories they formed together. Severus was always going to have those feelings for Lily. It does not make it obsession. And I think of it like this.

I have a friend, who was more the Snape to my Lily. She was kind of an awful person, awful friend, and there came a point we cut each other out. (I’m not saying i’m entirely innocent in the destruction of that friendship. But I do view her actions as far more Severus’s toxic side than my own. But that’s besides the point). I did not stop caring about her altogether. Especially not immediately. Especially not right out of school. I still think of our friendship often. I think that if she came to me needing something, I would likely help her, even if I have a feeling she wouldn’t do the same for me. 

So that is what I view Severus’s feelings towards Lily. Except stronger. Because Lily was the only light in his life. She was the only good thing. The only positive influence he really had. Adults were never on his side. His peers were rarely on his side. So losing Lily, he clung to what little he had. The death eaters who took him in under their wings over the years. Those who were promising him power and control, something he rarely had in his life. 

But that care is what got him. He heard that part of the prophecy, and of course he kept track of his friend. Wizarding circles are small anyway. It probably spread without intent. He was scared for her. So he did his job, reporting the prophecy. But begged for her life. In his fear he didn’t think about James. The man that ruined his life and tormented him every chance he got. And he didn’t think about her child, not born yet. Because his reactions were emotional in knowing that Lily’s life was in danger. 

So he went to Dumbledore to have her protected. And yes. Then her family was brought to his attention. And he did not hesitate to agree to keep them safe too. Listen. If Snape really wanted Lily for himself. If he really didn’t care about her at all, it would have been a fight to protect, at the very least, James. He would have argued against it. He instantly agreed because someone reached to the logic in him. And he agreed to risk his life to be Dumbledore’s spy. He signed on to do that for the rest of his life. He signed on to do whatever it took to protect Lily and her Family. So when it was just Harry left, he did everything he could. (that doesn’t mean he went about it right. But he did do his best to protect Harry). Until his very last breath. If it was just about Lily, he would have stopped the moment she died. 

None of this was about sleeping with her. None of this was about winning her over or having her. He accepted that he fucked those things up. He accepted he had no place in her life. This was about making up for his mistakes. Or at least, trying to feel like he could. I don’t think even if he lived to see Harry win and everything, that he would think he had. But he certainly seemed to be trying to show he knew he was wrong, and trying to do the right thing. Total change was never possible for Severus. But the fact that he was even able to admit he was wrong in joining Voldemort and turn to the right side, is a massive step for him.

[davidfarland]

APPEALING TO THE SENSES, PART 3

For the last couple of articles I’ve been talking about how to make your story come alive by appealing to the reader’s senses, by “showing, not telling.” I pointed out that the human body has several different ways of sensing and reacting to the world. We’re not like cameras that just record sight and sound, we experience the world through sight, sound, kinaesthetic senses, touch, taste, smell—and we also are constantly influenced by our thoughts and emotions. If you don’t appeal to all of these, your writing will suffer. Your reader won’t become fully involved in your story and will recognize that you’re missing something.

So we need to appeal to the reader’s senses, but not all appeals are equally strong. I pointed out that sometimes they’re so weak that they can’t possibly work at all. For example, when I say “a crowd stood on the platform,” the reader has so little information that he can’t see the crowd. Yes, the reader might picture a crowd, but is it the crowd that the writer envisioned? Probably not. Depending upon the area and time that you’re writing about, crowds can be quite different. Maybe the platform is for slaves being displayed for sale in a Roman market, or a speaker’s platform during the Russian revolution, or maybe it’s teens at a rock concert. The reader is forced to read on after such a statement in order to get more information in order to just figure out what to imagine. So that statement is a non-appeal.

But there are also some very weak appeals. Here’s one: “It was raining.” The author has told us that it was raining, but he has not appealed to any of the senses—sight, sound, smell, touch, emotion. So the reader might imagine rain, but what kind of rain? Is it a light drizzle, a warm mist that barely moistens the skin, like something felt on a foggy day in China? Or is it a cold downpour where raindrops seem to bounce off wet cement? We as readers aren’t sure what to imagine, so perhaps we think of our standard version of a normal rain.

But the truth is, the reader’s eye passes over that. I was editing a story a couple of weeks ago, and after a long discussion with another man, the protagonist stepped out into the rain. I thought, “Wait, was it raining when he stepped in?” Well, I had to go back four pages to the setup, where I did in fact see that “It was raining.” But I didn’t know how hard, didn’t have an appeal made to any of the senses. Did the protagonist get out of his carriage with an umbrella, or was his top hat enough protection. Had it gotten worse while he was inside, or better?

So what are some better ways to make the rain real?

One way is to appeal to the senses, to define it further. One of my old writing teachers, the poet Leslie Norris, used to say that “When it rains in your story, the reader should get wet.” So you can begin by adding qualifiers.

Let’s just say that you add something like “cold,” “warm,” “soft,” or “hard.” In front of rain. You’ve just invited the reader to feel the rain. But you could also appeal to sound, “A warm rain pattered on the bamboo roof.” Or you could add an appeal to sight, “He saw the rain advancing from the west, a gray curtain sweeping down.” You could appeal to the sense of smell, “He smelled the rain an hour before it hit, the moisture almost cloying at the back of his throat.” You can add touch to the senses, “The cold rain pelted his forehead, and quickly soaked through his buckskin coat.”

Of course, if you really want to “create” the rain, make it real in the reader’s imagination, you appeal to all of the senses. You might even add in some thoughts and emotions. “Calvin smelled the rain an hour before it hit, the moisture almost cloying at the back of his throat. A wind kicked up dust on the prairie, as he chopped wood for the morning, and he heard distant thunder herald the coming storm. He glanced to the west and saw a gray curtain sweeping toward the ranch. Fear struck. I’d better get that mare shut up into the barn. She was about to give birth to her first colt, and she was already skittish. The storm would likely make her want to run.”

I might then have him run to the barn to close the door and have the rain strike, cold and wet and hard. In fact, one way to strengthen your appeal is to use strong metaphors, so I might describe how it “rained down on the roof, falling like buckshot.”

In short, by appealing to all of the senses, I can make the rain “real” to the reader.

In fact, I’m doing it quite consciously. I know that my reader is probably sitting in an easy chair somewhere, while the television drones in the background. He/she feels no rain. But as I appeal to the senses—smell, sight, sound, touch (hot, cold, wet, dry, soft, hard) emotion and thought, I’m actually inviting the reader to substitute these sensory inputs for what they’re actually feeling.

The result is that as a writer, I can take over the reader’s imagination, lead them through an event so completely that they forget that they’re reading and instead become involved in a shared dream.

By doing so, I’m using principles of hypnosis on the reader—which happen to be the same principles behind good storytelling.

So give it a try. Here’s a non-appeal: “There was a crowd on the platform.” Now, use body and motion, sound, sight, touch, smell, thoughts, and emotions to write a scene about a crowd. You can imagine any scenario you like—a tourist fighting his way through vendors in a foreign marketplace, demonstrators at a political rally, fans mobbing a favorite band. Just remember, the details will make it real, and you have to tell it from a character’s point of view. Have fun!

https://mystorydoctor.com/appealing-to-the-senses-part-3/