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hansensgirl · 3 years

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salvatore. | vii.

summary. | Bucky Barnes doesn’t believe in love anymore. Especially after the tragic, unknown death of his wife, Natasha. He thinks it’s stupid and a waste of time and- oh my. Hello there, you. There you were, with your notebooks and your novels, writing your heart away. He’s hellbent on saving you from this nasty world, his elusive neighbor that has him under the stupid spell of love. You soon find yourself trapped in a tragic love story with Bluebeard, not Prince Charming.

warnings. | NONCON/DUBCON, dark themes, manipulation, gaslighting, arguments, toxic relationships (reader and steve), cheating, nightmares, violence, mentions of death/murder, spying, voyeurism, stalking, use of cameras, angst, fluff, dark!bucky, protectiveness, obsessiveness, creepy bucky, perversion, kidnapping, choking (not the kinky kind), passing out, suffocation, and more. 18+, MINORS DNI.

word count. | 3.4k

pairings. | Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Steve Rogers.

a/n. | we’re nearing the end!! please read all the warnings before you click the ‘keep reading’ button! don’t forget to enjoy and don’t forget to reblog! salvatore masterlist.

“I’ll be back before you know it, doll, don’t worry. I’ll call you and text you nonstop, okay?” Bucky reassured, pecking your lips between each word of his. You pulled further away from him and laughed. “Yeah, yeah. Where are you going, again?” you asked, hating yourself for forgetting so easily. It was almost like he never even told you. “That bachelor party, remember? For my friend Sam?” he repeated, almost as if he had told you billions of times before.

Truth be told, you didn’t remember.

“Oh, that’s right! Okay, baby, have a good trip and stay safe. Tell your friend Sam I said congratulations––wait, you have a friend named Sam?” you questioned, not knowing of this friend. You may have been quite forgetful but you didn’t recall him speaking of any friend by the name of Sam. “Yep, but I don’t talk about him too much,” Bucky informed, and you tilted your head. You opened your mouth to ask him another question, but he checked the time on his wrist before sharply inhaling.

“Gotta go now, doll, don’t want to be too late,” he told you, kissing you once more. “Love you, bye!” he shouted as he closed the door behind him. “Bye!” you called back, and you were left all by yourself in his home. He already gave you a tour a week ago, the day after he spoke to you about your nightmare. You never slept after that, but it wasn’t shocking. That kiss was everything you could’ve ever dreamt of.

You felt like Sleeping Beauty, finally getting that kiss from Prince Charming that you needed so badly. You sighed with a half-smile on your face, and you could already feel boredom settling into your bones. With Bucky, every second of the day was filled with fun. Whether it be through stupid conversations or through needless movie commentary. You hadn’t written in all that time, and it was just a tad bit upsetting for you.

Your notebook was untouched, and so was your nice fountain pen along with your computer. It wasn’t like you had writer’s block, and it wasn’t like you had no motivation to finish your first chapter… No, wait, it was exactly like that. Every time you thought of your story, you’d have to stifle a loud, loud groan that would be savoured for when you stub your toe or when you’d accidentally burn your hand on the stove.

You didn’t resent your story. It just felt like a burden at that point in your life. But with nothing else to do other than writing, you felt oh so pained. Not physical pain, no, just the kind that would be a burden. You were sure that the floorboards were tired of feeling your feet stomp on them throughout most days. Sometimes, you’d sit on the stairs and hum to yourself—some sort of random rhythm that you would then mess up and forget about.

“What to do, what to do, what to do…” you whispered to yourself, hooking your thumbs through the loops of your jeans. If it weren’t for Bucky and his easily distracted behaviour, you could’ve had a belt there. But mistakes were made, and even though you offered to help, you officially knew then that Bucky never wanted you in his basement. Not in the past, not in the present, and definitely not in the future.

You joked around, saying that he just has dead bodies buried behind the shelves that were covered in cobwebs. But his forced chuckle had you apologizing quickly, and he told you to go drink some water and throw out your energy drink. You did exactly that, and he was back to his happy self. Spewing stupid puns like hilarity was his college major, with a big silly grin on his face.

Steve was always stoic, so maybe that was why you weren’t used to the almost overwhelming (yet lovely) company of Bucky.

Though Bucky spoke most hours of the day, you never heard of this man named ‘Sam.’ You had hung onto every single word of Bucky’s whenever he spoke to you. Even if he was repeating himself most of the time, you still made sure to listen to everything. He had never spoken about his friend to you, ever. As a matter of fact, you didn’t know much about him personally. You knew bits and pieces about his life as a soldier, but you didn’t know anything else.

He had no family pictures, no childhood stories, no generation-old recipes, nothing. Absolutely nothing. It weirded you out because he knew every bit about you. Even things that you’d never tell your mother, even if you had to. You didn’t even know about any past girlfriends of his… Except for one. He’d call her by the name of ‘Natalia’ but only when cursing or spewing out on the grave swears that could have someone rolling even if they didn’t decay yet.

Only a man with something to hide wouldn’t tell you anything about him, right? Because that was what Steve did, and he had one too many things hidden from you.

You spun around, making a full beeline for the stairs that didn’t creak under your feet (unlike your staircase). You envied Bucky for that, but you also envied him for more practical, more reasonable things. Such as the way he just couldn’t fall for pranks easily or the way he’d get something right almost all the time. You gripped the railing tightly, careful not to fall as you were climbing up the steps as quickly as you could.

Cardio wasn’t really your thing, not then, at least. You preferred simple stretches and long walks. Maybe the occasional weight lifting, but your little coloured dumbbells never did much. You were faced with the first bedroom at the top of the stairs. It was a guest bedroom, and he told you that it was pointless to go inside and clean it. At the time, it made sense. But maybe he was just trying to avoid having you go in there and see something you shouldn’t have seen.

You exhaled shakily and pushed the door open. You were met with a gust of cool air only because the window was left open. Bucky did that a lot, only because his home would become predominantly more humid than usual. You didn’t search the drawers or anything else in that room as well as the other guest bedrooms because you knew you’d find nothing in there.

There was only one bedroom left to check, the one that you and Bucky shared. It was a work in progress. Not in the sense that you were renovating or something along those lines. It was a bit… bland, to say the least. Not one piece of that room felt like home. You asked Bucky if he had any mementos or paintings to keep, but he shook his head and walked out. He wasn’t a very personal man, and it had more flaws than perfections.

You turned the doorknob and walked inside, taking in the notes of that vanilla body spray that Bucky loved so much and the lingering scent of his aftershave. You went to his bed and lifted the fluffy mattress up. Nothing. You gently placed it back down, hoping that your muscles wouldn’t give out. You opened up some of the bedside drawers, and you even peaked underneath them. Nothing. You let out a groan that was also a sigh of relief.

You weren’t sure if you wanted to find something bad or if you wanted to find nothing at all.

You slowly brought yourself up to your feet. You strode a few steps over to the closet and slid the mirror door to the other side. Half of the closet was filled with your clothes, and the other half was filled with his clothes. He had more leather jackets and sweaters than anything. Steve had the opposite of that problem. The blond hero loved his white tank tops and his white t-shirts. The dryer would constantly shrink them, and you could never complain about that.

Neither could Natasha.

You ran your hands between all the pockets and fabric in your closet, but you didn’t find anything. You snapped your hands back, bringing some hangers down to the ground. “Fuck,” you gritted out, looking down at the mess. You wordlessly kept staring at it, all while flailing your arm around to find the door. You grabbed it and slid it close. You had more pressing matters to deal with.

You didn’t check the dresser because you’d know if Bucky ever touched it. Your next best bet was to check the bathroom, even if it might’ve been fruitless. You searched the cupboards underneath and above the sink. Still, you only found freshly purchased products that you would find yourself stocking up on at least once a month—pads, tampons, shampoo, conditioner, razors, and everything else you needed, not him. Nothing there belonged to Bucky.

You once again didn’t know whether you should be elated or frustrated.

You dragged yourself out of the bathroom and out of the bedroom. You wore a pout on your face, resembling a little spoiled kid in a candy shop. In the hallway, you were at a crossroads. “Goddammit,” you groaned, squeezing your hands into fists. You walked down the stairs, not even bothering to hold onto the railing or the wall. You always loved to run your hand against the wall, especially when you were descending down the stairs.

You knew that he was too smart to hide anything in the living room and the kitchen. You felt like you were losing your mind. Even though you couldn’t find anything, you knew Bucky was hiding something from you. It was the same gut feeling that you had when you were with Steve. You listened to it, and you were right. Therefore, you believed that you were right about Bucky being secretive.

You stood at the bottom of the stairs, with your hands on your hips and your bottom lip between your teeth. You didn’t know where else to check. The garden seemed idiotic, and none of Bucky’s floorboards creaked in a peculiar manner. No can or jar in his cabinets looked off, and his shelves didn’t seem like they could move. His stack of books about the human mind didn’t seem fake either.

You spun in a circle, and so did your mind. Everything merged into a colourful blur, and you nearly missed the large splash of white that suddenly intruded into your vision. You stopped moving and looked over just to see the door to the basement. The door was never opened, even when Bucky was downstairs doing the laundry. You smiled to yourself. It was perfect, and it made so much sense for him to hide something in there.

The airport was loud. Families and couples yelling at each other and the sound of suitcase wheels against the floor. A lovely voice came on the intercom, announcing a flight that was departing. From New York to some city in Arizona. In Bucky's hands were his passport, his ticket, and his backpack. Bucky wasn’t sitting in one of those enormously uncomfortable chairs that everyone else was.

He was meters away from the waiting area, contemplating whether the trip was a good idea or not. He didn’t need to be plagued with guilt by what happened to Natalia. He was doing much better now that she was gone. The gothic house probably needed to be cleared of cobwebs and creepy crawlers, but he could’ve just hired someone for that. The only reason why he was contemplating his trip was because of you.

You seemed to eat up every lie he spewed since he met you, but you didn’t appear to buy his cover-up for the flight. Bucky never felt bad about lying to you because you needed to be protected. You were bawling in your bedroom about your job, taking insults from your mother and getting carelessly drunk with a stranger just before he thoroughly swept in on his white horse. You needed him; you always did.

Bucky knew that you’d let your paranoia and suspicions get the best of you. He was glad you allowed that to happen with Steve, but he wasn’t going to let it fly when it came down to himself. “Fuck,” he grumbled before turning on his heels and making his way out of the area and out of the airport. He had to protect you from the harsh truth, only because he’s your knight in shining armour.

You didn’t grab ahold of the railing because it was made of wood. Splinters were the worst; you simply just loathed them like anybody else. You placed your hand against the wall for support and tried your hardest to not make too much noise. Basements always gave you the creeps. The air in the room was thick and heavy, week-old vapour stuck in there, and you wondered how the wood hadn’t begun to rot yet.

Your fingers clashed with what seemed to feel like a light switch. You were at the bottom of the stairs, an old carpet resting beneath your feet to protect you from the cold floor. Your nose was filled with the scent of different detergents and softeners that Bucky would use. Against the wall were the washing machine and the dryer. Next to the dryer was a small, worn-down sink. It was clearly stained and dirty, and you wondered how old the house was.

In the corner was a little wire deck shelf. On it were boxes and many other random objects. You managed to push yourself into the small space that was between the washing machine and the rack. You grabbed the first and the only box on the highest level, surprised that it was lighter than it seemed. You looked inside, only to find old leather gloves and a first aid kit. The white of the kit had a bit of dried blood on it, and the gloves were creased.

You grimaced, but you figured that they were from before he retired. You put the box back and reached for the other one that was two levels down from the top. It was much heavier than the previous one, and you were scared that you would drop it. You peered into the box and found a sleek black gun. Your eyes widened, and you nearly let go of the six faces of cardboard.

But it also made sense for him to own a gun. You didn’t want to think of the possible reasons to scare yourself, so you pretended as if you didn’t see it and put it back. The rest of the shelf just had little old objects that seemed like they came from a thrift store or a pawn shop. One was a small porcelain deer in a pink skirt with glitter on its spots. It made you smile; of course, Bucky would have something like that. The deer’s bright doe eyes looked up at you, but they seemed more sad than anything else.

Though you marvelled at the statue at first, it eventually made you feel uneasy. You tore your eyes away from it and slowly made your way out of the cramped space. You didn’t know where else to look, and your gut feeling didn’t seem to go away. Though the lightbulb was turned on, the room was still dark. The area next to the staircase was particularly shadowed, and your stomach dropped just a bit as you stared at it.

You swallowed thickly and nervously, but you were also elated at the fact that you finally found somewhere worthy of checking. You stepped into the darkness, and you pulled your phone out of the pocket of your jeans. You turned the flashlight feature on and shined the light throughout the space. The ground was barren, and so were the walls. Dust covered them, though.

You rested your off-hand against the side of the staircase, sighing to yourself before realizing that there was a space underneath the stairs. You bent down and shone the light there, moving it around to try and find something. When that was of no help, you stretched the hand that was on the stairs to try and feel for something, anything. Your digits brushed up against what felt like a shoebox. Your heart jumped, and you fumbled around trying to grab it.

You dragged the box out from the staircase while you bit your bottom lip. You sat down on the dirty floor, and you hesitated in opening up the box. You wondered if it was best to let sleeping dogs lie, to just ignore your intuition and to trust Bucky. But you knew better than that. You really did. Your shaky hand lifted the top of the box, and you set it down on the ground.

You pointed your flashlight inside the box, and you gasped loudly. It was filled to the top with different things that were oh so familiar. Maybe it was because they belonged to you. A pair of pink panties that you thought your washing machine ate was at the top. You took them out of the box just to find a few old notebooks of yours. You believed they were under your bed, but it seemed to be otherwise.

A few lipsticks and a hairbrush were there, too. You didn’t recall them being missing, and you certainly didn’t remember giving them to Bucky because you never did. You dug everything of yours out of the box. Polaroids, more panties, jewelry, polaroids of yourself and your body, as well as much more. At the bottom was a bunch of folded papers in a Ziploc bag.

You pushed the square slider at the top to open the bag, and you pulled out the papers. You opened them up just to be faced with a file detailing almost everything about you. There were pictures of you around your house, at work and doing other things. One was of you showering, and you felt sick to your stomach. You didn’t know whether you should cry, call someone, or be angry.

But what you did know was that you needed to get as far away from Bucky as possible. You quickly shoved everything back into the box, and you put the lid back on. You grabbed it and placed it under your arm before trying to stand up. You unlocked your phone and searched through the screen for the Phone app. You needed to call your mom, maybe ask her if you could stay with her for a bit. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you panicked, not being able to find her contact.

You turned around and managed to click on her name, and you began to make your way up the stairs. You clicked the call button and put the phone on speaker. You listened closely as it rang, and you waited for the ‘ringing’ to turn into a timer. But you didn’t look where you were going, which is why you let out a scream as you bumped into something. No, someone.

You looked up slowly, just to see Bucky staring at you. His face was filled with hurt, and you heard his metal arm whir as he clenched his fist. “Where do you think you’re going, doll?” he asked innocently, smiling at you. “Uhm, I- I was just going to go eat lunch!” you lied to him. Your voice was shaky, and so was your entire body. You felt nauseous, and your legs felt as if they were going to give out.

“Good, I’m glad you’re going to eat lunch. It’s important to have all your meals, y’know. But do you really need to go through my things and steal, too?” Bucky questioned, taking a step towards you. “Please let me go, Bucky. I won’t tell anyone!” you promised, ready to sob and beg to him. He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “No can do, doll. Can’t let my best girl go,” he exasperatedly explained to you, almost as if you didn’t learn about his stalking ways.

His hand came up to your face, and he stroked your cheek. The metal felt weird against your sweating skin. He moved his hand down to your neck, and he suddenly wrapped his fingers around your throat. You dropped your phone and the box, and you wrapped your hands around his wrist. “Shh, it’s okay, you just need to take a quick break from reality. That’s all,” Bucky cooed, and you found yourself struggling to breathe. Your vision began to darken, and you eventually passed out in his arms.

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mybg3notebook · 3 years

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Astarion Analysis

Disclaimer Game Version: All these analyses were made up to the game version v4.1.101.4425. As long as new content is added, and as long as I have free time for that, I will try to keep updating this information.

“Morals are all well and good, but power always wins.”

“If all I want is shallow praise? Hardly, there is also gold, sex, revenge, quite the list, really. But failing any of those, I will always settle for shallow praise.”

--Astarion

The majority of sources used for this article are in the game itself (including Astarion-solo playthroughs) and the dev’s notes and datamined information provided by pjenn. Astarion as origin is (almost) not taken into account since it’s not finished and is highly unpolished.

The itemised list will show some instances of approval or disapproval as seen in the game. To make the reading of this article easier and shorter, you can skip them since they are basically the proof I use to sustain the introductory concept of each block.

We can infer a lot of Astarion by analysing what he approves and disapproves of. Sometimes, we can even lightly infer some information from his neutral reactions, but let’s be honest: this way of analysing a char is pretty poor since it leaves everything to speculation. Neutral reactions can only be analysed by contrasting the same situation in other contexts, and seeing what other options Astarion approves or disapproves of. With these considerations in mind, we can proceed to describe this character.

Disclaimer: this is a meta with my personal interpretation of the character, sticking as much as possible to the facts and leaving little to “desires” or “projections” of what I want him to be. If I do so, I will state it explicitly in the text for the sake of analysis honesty. I want to be clear about what is canon (facts shown in bg3 EA), from what’s personal interpretation with little proof.

Also, this list is extensive, gathering as much as I could in my many playthroughs, but I’m sure it’s not absolutely complete. Some details may have escaped to me, but honestly, I believe they will be easily fit in these blocks once the pattern has been seen.

Understanding Astarion by enumerating his reactions

Astarion is usually seen as a character whose behaviour is the embodiment of “randomness”, and after several Astarion-solo playthoughts, I began to see the patterns that showed little randomness in my opinion.

We can say that he likes gratuitous cruelty and murder. He has a special taste for animal cruelty too. He is greedy, but mostly if it leads to murder or to make little people suffer. Sometimes this greedy side comes from the fact that he doesn’t like to “work for free”: most quests should have a reward for him to be neutral to them. Accepting them without asking anything in return tends to earn a disapproval. He is more reticent to humiliate or outsmart NPCs that may be potentially stronger and more powerful than him.

[[1]] Situations showing his greed:

He supports the robbery of the fishermen that were helping the mind flayer (MF) after the crash.

Astarion supports stealing the “magical” ring from the tiefling kid (Mattis). This could be seen also as a gesture of outsmarting a person or mere trickster behaviour (see below).

He supports asking for compensation from the deep gnome we saved at the windmill.

He agrees to force Tulla (dying gnome in the myconid camp) to give you her magical boots.

Denying Baelen the scrolls because “they don’t come cheap”.

He approves pickpocketing Mirkon while being lured by the harpies.

[[2]]Situations displaying plain murder or violence:

He supports joining Lae’zel against the tieflings if you persuade them to free her, since this means killing (which is always an entertainment for him) creatures he considers lesser.

He supports killing Gimblebok and his gang near the Jergal ruins if you avoid any attempt of persuasion. This can be shown as a demonstration of power. (see below)

He supports killing Kagha without trying to persuade her or change her ways, not because he thinks Arabella’s death was an aberration (he enjoyed the show, as his approval and later comment confirm it) but simply because he enjoys murder.

He supports attacking the goblin camp. It��s a great spectacle of murder combined with his personal dismiss towards goblinoid races.

He approves of joining Minthara and massacrating the tieflings. It’s another great spectacle of murder, but in this time, of weak people (He detests weak creatures, and despises Tieflings in general).

He approves of killing Lae’Zel in the scene where she attacks Tav during the night, out of fear of turning into MF.

He approves of killing Rugan in the hideout.

Still related to this level of violence and cruelty, he supports learning more about Shar once Shadowheart explains Shar’s teachings, all about violence and death, fighting against the illusion of safety.

He approves killing Ellyka, the tiefling spying on the Gith patrol, if Tav is a Githyanki (true or disguised as) and chooses “Attack.”

He approves of helping Glut in massacring the whole Myconid colony.

He approves of sacrificing one of the companions to the fish-people who worship Booal.

He approves fighting the fake god Booal because it’s a massacre; where there is bloodshed, there is Astarion’s approval.

For the same reason he approves killing the Githyanki patrol: pure bloodshed.

[[3]] Situations of gratuitous cruelty: I understand that a lot of people confuse this trait of his personality as a “trolling attitude”. There are different archetypes of tricksters in DnD, and he is not particularly the silly-funny one (e.i. Jester in Critical Role), but the cruel-funny one. His “pranks” don’t cause annoyance or silly troubles, they usually end up in murdering the person he is pranking, or causing them great pain. What he considers “funny” is always related to a lot of blood and suffering. Examples of this:

He disapproves of diffusing the situation between Aradin and Zevlor after the first goblin attack. He is “missing” his show. This situation is also related to enjoying humiliation of others (see below).

After letting Arka kill the goblin and take her revenge, Astarion will approve the comment that refugees are desperate and they will do anything. He is enjoying the show of despair of weak creatures. And he is also expecting for some of them to become survivalist beasts.

He approves of telling Kagha that you enjoyed the show of Arabella’s death as an answer to her question about if she is a monster.

He also approves of telling Arabella's parents that Kagha will release their daughter when the Rite of Thorns is completed (while Arabella, in fact, has been killed by Kagha's snake). This is another example of Evil Trickster, a prank with a really dark taste. This also shows that Astarion likes to give false hopes [One of the most iconic characteristic of Cazador]

He approves of telling the tiefling kids training with Wyll that they are going to die, inspiring that despair he enjoys to see in weak creatures. (see below)

He approves of breaking Alfira’s teacher’s lute, leaving the tiefling heartbroken because that had been the only memento she got from her teacher, and could not finish her tribute song.

Astarion approves of interrupting the goblinoid couple having sex, which he considers disgusting. After killing them, Astarion will support the idea that it was funny. Another example of Evil Trickster where the prank ends up with the death of the pranked one. But we also know Astarion despises goblinoid races.

He approves of killing Crusher after humiliating him.

He supports Tav who volunteers to torture Liam at the goblin camp.

He supports of laughing at Lorin (the elf trapped in Ethel’s house) after pretending to be the monster he sees (psychological torture). This example can be part of the list of humiliation too.

He states that seeing Mayrina’s horrified face after resurrecting her husband was funny. Another example of false hopes [One of the most iconic characteristics of Cazador] On the contrary, if Tav kills the undead afterwards, Astarion will disapprove, since he missed the “fun” of seeing Mayrina tortured.

He enjoys every state of Abdirak’s torture upon Tav. This can be seen as a fine bloody show he is enjoying, or as a way to put Tav in a humiliating situation (as he approved the dung-smearing or the foot-kissing instances)

Using the leader gnoll Flind to attack her own gnolls earns his approval. Asking her to devour herself increases approval once more. This situation could also be seen as enjoyment of animal cruelty (since gnolls are considered animals by Astarion too) but also as the reflection of Astarion’s inner desire of becoming a Master of bending wills.

Probably the most innocent prank so far we saw, he approves of doing Baaa at the redcaps in the Bog.

[[4]] As I said previously, he suports any form of animal cruelty:

He approves of kicking and killing the squirrel Timber in the Druid Grove. According to the dev’s notes, he is “shocked and annoyed” because “you stamped a squirrel to death when he could’ve eaten it.” (DEN_General_Squirrel)

He supports prodding to death the bird that Nettie was healing during the dialogue (you need Speak with Animals for this).

He supports freeing the Owlbear cub at the Goblin Camp, and feeding it later, because he wants to bite the owlbear cub eventually (he uses the word “delectable” to describe him, and when the owlbear escapes, Astarions states “You‘ve scared off the little snack.”)

When we find Halsin in his bear form, Astarion will have two instances of approval: the first one when Tav tells the goblin kids that throwing stones with sharp edges would hurt the animal more, and then when Tav themself joins the goblins in throwing rocks at Halsin.

We can also add the confrontation with Flind, the Gnoll leader, as another example of animal cruelty since he approves a smart yet twisted way of killing her by double-using the tadpole. First to command her to attack the gnolls, and then to devour herself. However, since Gnolls are considered aberrations lore-wise, this point could be left aside in this particular case.

If we take into consideration that Astarion sees Goblins, Kobolds, and Gnomes as animals, killing them always increases his approval. This happens when we kill, out of the blue, most goblin NPCs, or simply attack the camp. (Datamined content) He will also approve of killing slave gnomes in Duergar Encampment (place you find after the boat). All these moments can be also seen as “animal” cruelty if we take into account Astarion’s perspective.

He approves of killing Priestess Gut in the Goblin Camp. It could also be interpreted as his usual dismissal towards goblins (he sees them as animals), since he never believed that she could help them in the first place. Or this approval can fit perfectly fine the cruel, murderous aspect of Astarion. As I said, many approvals overlap different aspects of Astarion, but all seem to fit his patterns either way.

I suspect that the reason behind this particular kind of cruelty comes from those two hundred years of torture, in which he had to drink animal blood. Considering he was such an unfair magistrate, directing his rage against the ones who are not the root of the problem seems fitting.

[[5]] Astarion is filled with racial bias and prejudices.

He only sees elves and humans as the only creatures capable of thinking. (Scene after the bite)

However, he has strong biases against a particular ethnic group of humans: Gurs. He thinks they are all cut-throat, and probably would approve the rest of stereotypes that Gandrel added in that scene. (Scene of meeting Gandrel)

He mocks halfling and dwarf Tavs, who he thinks are naturally weak, until they prove him wrong. (Stargaze scene for short-sized Tav)

He supports the idea that tieflings have demonic powers just because of their heritage. (Speaking with the Grove halfling seller). During the party, he compares the lives of the tieflings with the lives of the goblins as something of similar value (which we know he considers as animal).

He sees goblins, kobolds, and gnomes as animals. (Scene after the bite)

After killing the goblinoid couple which was having sex, if Tav choose to say that the situation made them scrub their eyes, Astarion would add and extra “dehumanizing” comment against gnomes. “I’ve seen worse. Gnomes can be… ughh.” (Scene of interrupting sex)

[[6]] He finds pleasure in humiliating people or in outsmarting them, especially if they are trying to outsmart Tav. He dislikes weakness and loves to humiliate weak people in particular.

He approves telling Lae’Zel to say “please” when we met her again in the cage, humiliating her.

He disapproves of diffusing the situation between Aradin and Zevlor after the first goblin attack. We know he is “missing” his show where one of them is being humiliated.

Astarion approves of telling Elegis that she is pathetic for being scared of a few goblins. Once more, humiliation due to weakness.

He disapproves of telling Arabella's parents that the Druids overreacted when speaking in the Druid Grove’s stairs. He is disapproving for defending a weak and silly creature who was not smart enough to survive on her own.

Astarion supports stealing the “magical” ring from the tiefling kid. This is another situation of humiliation of a weak person and outsmarting them. This could be considered a prank of a more silly-funny trickster doing an innocent prank.

He approves of telling the tiefling kids that they are going to die.

He feels disappointed when Lae’Zel did not kill Zorru, the tiefling that she forces to kneel and confess where he saw the Gith patrol. He approves the psychological torture of the interrogation.

He enjoys interrupting the goblinoid couple having sex. This is an example of the prank cruel-funny trickster. This “prank” ends up with the goblinoid couple being killed.

Astarion approves of smearing dung in the guard's face at the goblin camp entrance. The show of seeing someone being humiliated is satisfying.

He supports booing and humiliating Volo off the stage in the goblin camp.

He supports licking the goblin’s foot (It could also be considered a prank).

He supports kissing the goblin’s foot while stealing the ring. This situation puts two things he enjoys in the same place: the humiliation experienced by Tav and how the Crusher was outsmarted in the process. Astarion will approve if Crusher is the one humiliated and forced to kiss Tav’s foot.

He approves of laughing at Lorin (the elf trapped in Ethel’s house) when the elf is scared of Tav who pretends to be the monster that’s torturing him.

Humiliating “low people'' is an important aspect of Astarion’s personality, since it’s a small petty pleasure he can have now, when during the last two hundred years it had been done to him. Humiliation has to do with power as well, another symbol tight to Astarion’s personality. Through humiliation Astarion can taste a little bit of power, that power he lacked for two hundred years. That power that, if his backstory is not retconned in future versions or in the full release game, he had before turning into a vampire, abusing those groups he considered less.

[[7]] If we think in power, we also have to think in manipulation. And of course, Astarion is a great master of it. Sometimes the events that stand out his taste for manipulation overlap with the ones displayed in the humiliation section.

Since the moment we meet Astarion, we know he keeps working in turning himself into a pleasant and useful companion for Tav. Astarion knows he has bigger chances to succeed and survive staying with this group. A lot of his “neutral” behaviours respond to this goal: he doesn’t want to enrage Tav to the point of being kicked out of the party, it’s not about a hidden gentle side inside he is showing with an apathetic neutrality, it’s, once more, raw preservation and survival. During the first scenes of the game, when we don’t know he is a vampire, Astarion tries to avoid taking a position in the situations we face: he is just feeling the ground all the time: with Sazza and with Arabella’s death is clear. He doesn’t judge hard, he is testing Tav, he is trying to understand their mind, and acting as pleasant as he can according to what he sees. It’s a natural use of manipulation to guarantee his survival in a group of strangers. During the bite scene—when this façade finally ends—he is truly nervous of being killed for his vampiric nature, and tries to convince Tav of keeping him in the group using arguments that go from seduction to practical usefulness.

The scene of stargaze also shows his usage of seduction as a manipulative tool to guarantee his survival (he weponises seduction and sex). Although he says mostly the same, he reacts very differently in tone depending on Tav’s approach. If Tav is wary, Astarion will act encouraging their ego and enumerating several feats, while getting uncomfortably closer. If Tav is already interested in Astarion, the elf will use softer manners to keep the seduction into a more intimate tone. This is a scene of a predator tasting his future prey as well (Dev’s notes are pretty clear about his manipulation). In this scene, also, Astarion is light-headed because he has not drunk blood in a while, and has “his head foggy” (something we can repeat during his origin as a personal tag). Exact words he will use as a narrative hint during the bite scene. Therefore, this scene has little of “Astarion falling for Tav”, and has everything of vampiric hunger combined with a raw sense of survival and usage of seduction to guaranteed it.

(potential interpretation) He approves when he is persuaded into sharing his dream with Tav. In any other character, we usually would understand this as an approval for caring about the character himself. In that scenario, failing the approval doesn’t cause a penalty (unless the character understands this failure as prying, as it happens with Shadowheart). In Astarion’s case, when you fail this persuasion, you are penalised with a disapproval. We can understand this in the same way we see it with Shadowheart: this is his annoyance for prying into his personal business. But there is another interpretation in this disapproval: he recognised a bad execution of persuasion as a manipulative attempt, and Astarion is in particular very sensitive to manipulations and mind games (see point [12]).

Most of his “romance” is manipulation as well, keeping in mind the first point of this section: he becomes pleasant for Tav, using whatever shape he needs, so he can survive (this is especially noticeable with a good-aligned Tav). Astarion has weaponised seduction and sex without any hint of subtetly for the player (As the Dev’s notes say: “For Astarion, this is a game of power - one he’s played many times before in the taverns of Baldur’s Gate, trying to lure people back to his master. He’s an old hand at seduction, very self-assured at first, but the player might not go along with the script he expects them to follow.”) We can assure that Astarion will find more satisfaction in having “fun” with a high-approval Tav rather than a low-approval Tav.

If Tav is not evil enough (and therefore has a low approval), Astarion will need to be the one inviting Tav to have sex (to be sure the control is still in his hand, still pushing for “catching” Tav). If a low-approval-Tav invites Astarion, he will decline saying that he “has standards'', implying he needs to be the one controlling the situation (he is basically playing “hard to catch”. Astarion already knows that he “caught” Tav in this scenario since Tav was the first one showing their interest). If Tav is evil-like (and has enough approval), Astarion will not only weaponise sex, he may express some degree of personal desire in having “fun” with Tav. After all, evil characters can like one another. In this case, he would accept Tav’s invitation for more hedonist reasons such as personal pleasure and not mere survival. Still it’s always present the layer of using this situation as a manipulative tool to have control on Tav.

Approves persuading Crusher without a fight, understanding it as an approval earnt for the good manipulation tool used. Of course this scene is combined with the natural approval that Astarion gives when outsmarting creatures he considers lower or animal-like (See point [6]).

Successfully persuade Lae'Zel to "play along" when meeting the Githyanki patrol, and pull off the deception.

I personally found funny that Astarion, without the intention of the writer, is so good in his manipulations, that he broke the fourth wall and ended up manipulating a good amount of players as well into believing him.

[[8]] He supports revenge in all its forms and degrees, which is not strange since it’s his main motivation against Cazador.

He approves of letting Arka kill Sazza in the cage as revenge for her brother’s death.

He approves of the attack against Nettie when she poisons Tav.

He approves of telling Edowin's siblings to find the beast that attacked him as a way to avenge the True Soul.

Astarion approves of Arabella’s mother killing Kagha at the party.

He approves of helping the Sovereign to take revenge against the Duergars that killed their young. However, it’s not clear if Astarion approves the revenge itself or the method proposed, which is, according to his own words, “a bit genocidal” and therefore more entertaining for him (we need to remember he enjoys the display of murder and violence in all its forms, [2,3]).

He approves of helping Glut in massacring the whole Myconid colony, since according to Glut’s words, they saw Glut’s circle being killed by the Duergars and did nothing, so Glut is looking for revenge.

[[9]] He doesn’t like to get involved in anyone’s problems unless you can obtain a benefit or a reward for it (this is directly connected to his greed aspect [1])

He approves of telling Mayrina’s brothers that they are on their own, and actively disapproves if Tav agrees to help them find Mayrina.

He approves of declining to help Halsin in killing the Goblin leaders.

He disapproves of helping Wyll to save the Tiefling refugees in the Grove.

He disapproves of helping Zevlor.

He disapproves of finding evidence that confirms that Kagha is working with Shadow Druids. He will additionally disapprove again if, after exposing her, Tav asks her to change her ways. From Astarion’s point of view, Tav is basically meddling too much in the Grove’s problems for free, and ruining all the instances where murder could happen.

He also disapproves if Tav agrees to help the two Zhentarim humans that are attacked by gnolls without asking for compensation.

He approves of not getting involved in the rescue of the Duke when Tav speaks with Florrick

[[10]] Despite having been a slave, he lacks of empathy for those who shared his fate and, instead, he supports slavery:

If we take into consideration what Swen said about his background in one of the first playthough he showed, we know that Astarion, as a magistrate, used criminals as food for local vampires, and in an attempt to outsmart them, he began to sell them into slavery (we can see in this brief background that Astarion has been greedy and cruel before turning into a vampire).

Although he disapproves paying for Oskar, the painter in the Zhentarim Hideout, he does it because of the money. When Tav buys the painter and demands him to stay silent because “slaves should speak when they are spoken to”, Oskar will think this is a joke (which is not the case, since none of those options has, in this patch at least, a (performance) tag). When Tav reinforces the idea that this is not a joke, and Oskar is now a true slave, only then, Astarion will approve.

When seeing one of the servant Duergars of the Myconite Colony, Astarion will comment on how useful they are, and how Underdark drows should learn about these creatures, since these slaves are more efficient than the standard ones. If Tav brings awareness about the contradiction that those thoughts cause coming from an ex-slave, Astarion will justify his thinking saying that they are husks without mind, claiming that his feelings “may be different, had they been conscious beings. Or maybe not.” He emphasises in this dual possibility. And we can be sure that he certainly would not care slavery on conscious creatures, as we confirm it later with Oskar (A human who is not a Gur, and therefore, a creature that Astarion consider thinking acceptable beings).

(Datamined content) When reaching the Duergar Encampment, once Nere is rescued, there is approval for killing the slave gnomes when the True Soul orders it. One can interpret that Astarion minds little for these slaves because they are gnomes, and therefore, animals.

[[11]] He looks for power and dominance, to have control over others and also as a way to guarantee his own freedom.

In the discussion after every dream, Astarion supports the use of the tadpole's power in every opportunity, dismissing their effects. He is thrilling for the ability of bending everyone’s will (curious note, this is one of Cazador’s characteristics most hated by him)

He approves of letting the Koa-Toes bow before them as the Booal's chosen. This scene can be understood as a typical prank of a trickster, but also as a taste for being adored as a master/entity with more power. This scene shows that he and Tav are placed in the “Master” position. This reinforces the idea that Astarion wants to be a Master/Cazador, eventually. (Check post about Astarion and Power 1 and 2)

If Tav claims that the worship to them as True Souls can be useful after letting Edowin’s siblings leave, Astarion will approve. He shows in every instance more delight for having Cazador’s powers, making emphasis in the mind control ability, again.

Astarion approves of keeping the Necromancy of Thay tome. As we see later in his scene, he believes that there is something powerful hidden in it that may help him against Cazador. He wants to muster all the power of any kind he can.

Astarion approves of sparing Auntie Ethel’s life when she surrenders during battle because she will grant them power in exchange. He wants to muster all the power of any kind he can.

[[12]] Astarion is particularly sensitive to mind control. His expressions and the tone of his voice against any type of mind control are filled with feral ire (video here):

He is angrily affected by the movements of his worm in his own head,

He screams against Ethel’s control when using the mask,

The insults at the harpies when he is lured,

The way he is annoyed by the telepathic spores in the Underdark,

He disapproves failed attempts of persuasion (understood by his character as failed, obvious attempts of manipulations).

And, potentially, this is the reason why he disapproves of Priestess Gut cleaning Tav’s mind.

[[13]] Because he likes power, he also likes the demonstration of power whether his own or his allies’, therefore he likes most intimidation options in general

He approves of intimidating Gimblebok and the gang near the ruins.

He approves of intimidating or provoking both Aradin and Zevlor at the Druid Grove.

At camp, when discussing preferred methods of death, he approves if Tav tells him "If I die, I'll take you with me." (after first picking "Try it and I'll spill your guts") . He also approves if Tav chooses a method of death (decapitation, knife, poison). Both options show resolve, strength, and freedom in deciding one’s fate. Since Astarion died at the hands of strangers, he values the freedom of choosing how to die. He will disapprove picking the option of letting others decide your death.

He approves if you intimidate the mirror into allowing passage.

[[14]] He is a survivalist character, and therefore, a lot of his approvals are related to elements that will guarantee his life, such as looking for his own freedom, the acceptance of his vampire nature, and the encouragement in looking for strong alliances or keeping alive strong individuals that can be useful as allies.

He approves of being accepted with his vampire nature and allowing him to feed on Tav’s blood. He keeps approving if Tav defends him during the exchange of opinions in the camp.

He approves if he has permission to feed on enemies.

He approves of killing Gandrel. This approval is also mere raw survival.

He approves if during sex, Tav allows him to drink their blood.

He disapproves of promising Nettie to take Wyvern Poison if you feel symptoms of the Tadpole, since it goes against his survival instinct.

When Lae’Zel is killed by the Gith patrol, he will state in banter that it was a waste since Lae’Zel was a powerful/strong specimen, so clearly he is lamenting the loss of a powerful ally.

Despite appreciating his freedom, he has explicitly stated that he “would choose servitude over oblivion any day”, showing how extremely survivalist he can be.

[[15]] He likes to find a solution to their tadpole problem using unconventional ways, or at least, using options that may lead him to the twisted solution he needs (which is not exactly being cured of the tadpole, but to control it, he certainly needs more exceptional means)

He approves of telling Auntie Ethel about the tadpole in the Druid Grove simply because she “looks lunatic”.

At first, Astarion disapproves of Raphael's invitation to remove the Tadpole, claiming that he would not change one master for another. However, when the situation starts looking dire, he will approve of the idea, because anything “may be better than Cazador” adding later that he “would choose servitude over oblivion any day.”

A bit contradictory when he was the first one claiming that Raphael used mind games similar to Cazador’s, games they know they have won before starting.

[[16]] He has a “soft spot” for helping people to escape their masters or killing/rejecting people that can be seen as Masters. However it’s requirement that those escapees could be seen by Aastarion as strong and capable creatures. He would mind little for creatures he sees as underlings. (Weak concept, seeing it with squinted eyes)

He approves of helping Karlach to get rid of the Tyr followers, since they are in fact working for Zariel, Karlach’s previous master. With all what Karlach explained about her past, she certainly qualifies as a strong person who is trying to get rid of her master.

He disapproves of Tav who tells Raphael that they would do anything to remove the Tadpole. This is probably resounding in Astarion: his past bad choice when he was at death's door due to the Gur attack and Cazador appeared to “save” him. He knows that going to that extent has poor results.

Astarion approves of Tav if they say that they won’t become Raphael's pawn (conversation in the camp after the encounter with Raphael). It’s true that when the other options narrow, Astarion starts to consider the possibility of changing a vampiric master for an infernal one.

This post was written on April 2021.

→ For more Astarion: Analysis Series Index

#astarion #bg3 early access #bg3 meta

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shepherds-of-haven · 3 years

Note

what things characters keep near bed on bedside table?

Ooh, great question!

Blade: several knives (taped to the back of the table, one taped under it, one in the drawer), an obsidian Ket decorative statuette symbolizing something obscure (that looks like a knife but isn't)

Trouble: his latest book, typically whatever knickknacks he had in his pocket that day (loose change, matchbox, charch box, stray bullet casings, keys, etc.) There is also a handgun in the drawer but he basically forgot about it. Also sometimes a glass of stale water that he never drinks from anyway. Also, his pocketwatch so he knows what time it is when he wakes up!

Tallys: a small vial of sleeping tincture (in case she has nightmares) in the drawer, a glass of water, her latest book (usually a slim book of Elvish poetry or something similar), a small potted plant that releases soothing scents at night. There is also a vial of saltwort in her drawer for those who know what that is gfldjgdflgj

Shery: a small stuffed animal, a scented candle for a reading light, her latest novel (usually a thick romance), her glasses stand for her spectacles, and her journal tucked away in the drawer!

Riel: a sleek clock that he rigged into an alarm clock for himself, a neat journal and fountain pen in case he wakes up with ideas he needs to scribble down (or work in bed), a gas reading lamp

Chase: I like to think he doesn't have a bedside table so much as he just has heaps of trinkets and stolen goods everywhere... the one closest to his bed is probably concealing something like a bedside table, but it's just covered in rings, necklaces, bracelets, and charms... there's probably, mysteriously, a flute tucked away in the drawer for some reason

Red: just a stack of books, wobbling precariously, and a stubby candle for flipping through them. also a pocket watch that's always slipping off the table and getting lost under his bed, especially when he oversleeps and needs it the most, making it very easy to knock the books down onto his head and making him curse quite colorfully

Ayla: several glasses of water (leaving water rings), a stack of empty tea cups, and a stash of midnight snacks in the drawer. also the jade stone that she sometimes braids through her hair, and she leans her wind-staff against the bedside table within easy reach

Briony: her red hair ribbon and various accessories, typically a hair brush, some rings or earrings or a necklace she likes to wear, a few minimal cosmetic products like a pot of lip gloss or spritzer of perfume. Also, a well-loved souvenir or memento from one of her travels, and maybe a miniature painting of the group/stack of portraits she's exchanged with the others as part of that thing they do! Her journal is also tucked away in the drawer!

Lavinet: typically, nothing, because she's been so used to the servants bringing her things like glasses of water in the middle of the night that she never had much on her bedside table before except a tall, slim candle (replaced every night it was used) and a bell for summoning a maid. In the Shepherds compound, she typically has a novel placed there, but not much else!

Halek: a little note of all the things he has to do tomorrow, which he replaces daily with a fresh card, and a glass of water for the morning! Also a box of mints and the latest cookbook he's been leafing through! And also saltwort and a few completely random other tidbits shoved away in the drawer, like a crumpled musical sheet and a calendar, though it's never been opened since then...

#Shepherds of Haven #all characters #room #rooms #decoration #bedside table #decor #bed

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rumblelibrary · 3 years

Text

The Diary of Doctor Laszlo Kreizler

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2

Synopsis: Alienist’s notes are private, sometimes gruesome, secrets of others and of himself.Those pages belongs to secrecy and decadence, have a glimpse to this world made of drafts, notes, accidents and reflections. Or maybe it is you the only person that should ever reach for it.

While you read this imagine Laszlo mostly at the end of his day, scraping the ideas and the thoughts, adjusting previous notes with additions, closing the day behind himself with a couple of sentences while sitting in his evening robe, a good glass of whiskey and his glasses bridged almost at the tip of his nose. Or maybe imagine yourself, you sneaky thing, reach for it from a far shelf.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: listen, this is the set of ideas and confessions of a man living in the 1890’s. Most of them will be outdated, rough, even deprecating in some analysis of the roles of men, women and social status, religion, etc.So be prepared, my point is to make Laszlo reflect upon those topics, but to be as faithful as I can to his time. Mention of death, mutilation, self harm and sex. Psychologically troubled young children ahead! Author’s note: The story is placed between season 1 and season 2. Thank you for everyone that encouraged me to keep going. I have to wait for my local drop of serotonin to get fully Laszloed to go through this.

Lyra’s Contellation, Illustration taken from Uranographia by Johann Bode

Routine. Routine is comfort. Habit stabilises the character.

If you follow a routine, you won’t ever be victim of imprudence, of evil jokes of fate. The stability earned through calculated and repeated actions brings a sense of fulfilment that forbids other thoughts to come bashing in, breaking rules, breaking hopes that a solid scheduled routine forbids to have. I take my time to begin this week, I planned the things to do, the next steps for the case, the people to meet, the resources I am allowed to contemplate. I feel good, I feel back to myself and the events of the weekend seem far from me and my own perception. I probably got ahead of myself, carried by some instinctual though and random rush of emotion, to be always in contact with the same people and mostly kids probably doesn’t help my stance in the presence of other adults. I feel silly now reading back the last page, I felt tempted to tear it off, but to keep it there should be a small memento of not losing my temper so easily. I read it over and over and I know I am not as charmed as I thought I was. I am just lonely. I have always been and it is normal to face ups and downs even for a man of my age who is more accustomed to it. To desire a partner is a natural instinct, to find somebody attractive is meant by nature, it is the body calling for the natural fulfilment of the reason we are put on this very Earth. But even in a state of nature my own condition would be forbidding me to be part of the natural process of growing my own kind. I am the type of male that would be excluded because of his impossibility to give the protection to the pack, therefore it is just more reasonable to me to adapt to my condition. No matter what my Potentia generandi might be (the ability to procreate).

With all the smugness that characterises him, Niki showed off that he passed my challenge. But to be really of an help to his antics I didn’t show any kind of surprise. I treated him like he did the bare minimum, like he didn’t prove me any kind of superiority. He has a natural attitude toward challenging the figure of power, he is trying to overpower me, but I won’t satisfy his need. I have noticed he has a very technical brain, he finds ways to solve problems in ingenious way and not by throwing himself into the task. I proceeded giving him to work on a clock, an old broken one we had in the institute, one of the kids hit it with a ball years ago and nobody ever worked on repairing it. I gave him the clock, a couple of screwdrivers and a book. He called me a number of German names I won’t transcribe, but it gave me a certain amount of satisfaction. If my intuitions are right, I am sure the clock will be repaired by next week.

Analysis of the victim’s body through John’s eyes. The drawings and sketches are as detailed as I requested, all of this thanks to you joining him. I deal with art critic section, I am used to notice these things. You assure me, you play yourself low and I wonder why, nevertheless you did notice things neither John or I did, which pleased me. It fooled me, distracted me from my purpose to not give in to your witchery, as I leaned closer watching your pale hand move across the pages tracing this or that line, showing how this must be done with the killer on this side and not that side, with words so deliciously elaborate, your way of composing your speech is compelling, you could sell the drawing of a kid like it was a Botticelli. I noticed the shape of your hands, the way you move them, I wonder if you play an instrument, or played, some habits just stick with you through life. I focused on taking notes, your ideas and instructions giving me a new point of view, a new stimulus. What if that is the only way the killer can communicate? Or what if this is the communication that works for him? Could our killer be mute or deaf? Or that’s how society made him feel? This man, or woman, needs a listener and I am afraid that now, since he got our attention and the public’s, he won’t stop. Another killing could be just as close.

Scheduled: meeting with the parents of Alex Garel for new admission, Monday next week at 11 am. Love at first is a fetish and like all fetishes it is based onto an object that hides a deeper meaning, like gloves mean hands, to love at first sight means to see somebody that you think, and think only, to have the chance to share not only a sensual kind of bond, but an intellectual. Love at first sight is based onto not knowing someone well enough, but having the time to idealise most of that someone. I can see why I feel this attraction, using a particular phrase that Sara often mutters when investigating: you tick all the boxes. I know you do, your beauty is everything but conventional, you’re the kind of face that painters would paint and musicians would write hymns about, but any animal on the street would never be allowed to see. You have the grace of the body and the fire in the eyes, and then you speak. When you speak, I realise, you could bring the world to its knees. Also, you never speak out of context, and if you do it is to ease somebody’s position. You do it often with John or with Stevie, you say something really silly in order to put them back to a place of comfort. Some women would call it self deprecating, but I see that you only pick wisely your fights and your wins. You don’t need to earn your peace and quiet by neglecting, but by lifting up the others. I wonder if you do it with me too, if your silences are just you allowing me to be in a better place while instead your judgment is tearing me apart. I shouldn’t care, but I keep wondering, sometimes I take my time to answer you, I analyse every shade, every peculiarity of your question, I am looking for sarcasm, for a condescending voice, for something to hang on and bare you open. To prove myself you’re not perfect. But deep down I know that you do, you judge me and you do well.

Mother never said so. That’s what one of the girls in my care said today. Ursula. She is tough. Skin as thick as an alligator and the tendency to pull her own hair at night or when under a massive amount of stress, enuresis alongside erratic episodes of mutism. I tried the soft approach, it didn’t work. She is too accustomed to be indulged. Therefore today I pushed her a bit overboard, I teased her over opinions on the female body, the female role, she is only 12, but she is soon to bleed, she knows, I can tell from the way she clenches to her skirts, from the way she looks at me as a threatening figure. I am the incarnation of danger to her. Under her steady silence, I pushed a bit more, asking how her mother taught her to be nice and submissive. Does her mother tells her she is going to be a good wife? The phrase, which I reported at the top of the page, surprised me. What is her mother teaching to her then? What closed her so much, locked her soul away, making a small bird like this choose the silence and the retirement of self inflicted pain over, what? Mankind? Or just Men? Is that even a curse? Should I cure her from a truth that her own mother whispered to her ear one night before bed and made a child decide that the world wasn’t a place to share her time with? Am I the man supposed to teach her that men are worth of trust? In the eyes of modern society, who measures its own value over the modesty of the women, she would be a champion, but at what price? I can’t in any way let her parents bring her back home after our recent meetings. Nevertheless, I have to make up my own mind on how to give her troubled soul ease without making her believe in fables. I, as a man, regard myself not worth of any of the trust they expect me to teach her.

In all of my years practicing with people’s feelings and traumas, I challenged myself to find those same traumas within my own mind. It is a tricky game, terrible, anguishing at times. But it straightens me, the pain of others, the pain of kids mostly, so unadulterated and pure, breaks the curtain between me and the lies that I often surround myself with. Pain is made of method, you can open it up, you can scrutinise it, part it piece by piece dividing it in sectors and, partitions, centre part, side part, heart of the problem. Pain is reliable. Happiness is not. It is random, cruelly sudden, unexpected, it washes over you in such deflecting way only to leave you alone a moment after ashamed and alone. I saw you again today. You were in a table full of what I could only guess as your former university colleagues, I saw pain in you, not heavy but constant. Annoyance, a bit of sadness. Your head titling on side and your eyes drifting on the left, you’re imagining something away from them. A place? An object? Or maybe someone? Your hands play circles at the bottom of the flute of your drink like kids do, your smile only one sided. I don’t see you speak at all, only listen. What could keep your voice down? I almost gulped down my own breath as you looked up and I realised how I must have looked. I was having lunch on my own, in a very private table and even entertaining myself with a newspaper on the side. I wish you didn’t, but you came over, your eyes shining. Did I save you? Or maybe I was just a good excuse to leave that painful meeting behind. Don’t be so nice to me, it is not healthy. Don’t look at me like you expect anything more from me than me listening. I won’t smile back at you, I won’t give you care, attentions or thought. I won’t lean for your perfume, I won’t obsess over that dress you wore, that pin that adorned your neckline keeping your undershirt in place, a silver robin, I remember. I won’t remember the number of the buttons on the side of your glove, three. I won’t observe the little moles just under your ear. A small constellation, I later realised, hidden between your ear and the beginning of your neck. I don’t need to check in my books. It is a constellation. It is Lyra. Why? Why you must be like this? Are you the Lyra? Are you the instrument of Orpheus come to me to drag me out of Hell? The Tartarus holds my soul and you should know already, I am not worth the quarter part of Eurydice to be saved and she never came back anyway. I won’t be now recollecting the way your teeth sunk in the inner side of your cheek when you apologised for the annoyance. You apologised twice, I ignored you both times with a raised hand to request peace and silence. I am not letting you in.

Reserved: Tickets for Wednesday’s evening Traviata by Giuseppe Verdi. The guest female lead promises a beautiful show.

Leonardo, as I am learning through Paul Valery essay, is who I would define as a figure of projective identification of the Subject or, to better explain it, of the knowledge of the Subject that formed and grew through the use of sketches in the experience of the Artist. I have always thought that the finest form of art was the representation of knowledge duly undressed by any personal identification. Leonardo, instead, proceeded to represent the figure through the essence of the artist, a representation technically unlimited on objects and symbols and that keep expressing the transformation and development of Leonardo’s own being.Some artists are testimony of the destruction of the world, of the loss of eternal beauty over decadence. And then you have Leonardo, who creates an art that is the gravity of the world’s system, of the nature, of thoughts and abstractions. I wonder if our killer does the same, if the way they presents the victim through their own personal view, if what we can read there it is their stories, their pains, their needs. Their happiness and troubles. What are they trying to tell me? I need to know, I need to know to save a life, of course, but I also need to know to be able to sleep at night. Hair, hair are the epitome of femininity in any era. I keep studying Ursula and her habit to pull the. I took notes on it: she picks them by the bottom, slowly separates them until she gains an amount her mind defines satisfactory and then she rolls her finger and pulls, she does it until her finger is empty and there are no hair left. I find her process incredibly interesting. In men’s case the display of physical attributes is not as vital, a beard can be appreciated but does not modify the power of seduction of a grown man. On the contrary, for women hair are a vital part of their attractiveness toward the opposite sex, society sees the hair of a woman as part of their vital characteristics, also in ancient times for a woman to cut her hair or have her hair cut was a sign of deep separation from the society. Only heroines or whores wore that mark and the association of the two is so rooted into the way society always parted the role of a woman in two that it is nauseating to think of. I am still fearing to let Ursula go away, the repulsion that she is showing toward her own body makes it difficult even for me to crack her shell open as a man, but my deepest worry is when that hate will take a scarier and deeper tool on her. How a girl with such a fear of what her body can do, like sex or pregnancy, can endure in the future to have an husband? Or even to be courted by anyone?

John is helpless and I admire him for that. He doesn’t hide it, he just is. He is vulnerable and exposed, he is an open well bursting with doubts and feelings and troubled waters. He is genuine in a way I could never be. Maybe that’s why I despise even more him talking about you, how he sees you every morning, how you greet everybody, how you behave even with interns, how you like your coffee. Your talents, your wits, how you said this and acted like that and reasoned through him. How you forbid him to drink even when he felt tempted. How you stayed late over to help him collect all the informations I requested him to get. To him. Not to you. The evil demon of envy scratching in the back of my head screaming like a siren out in the sea, he demands to be heard, he demands to be allowed a part in this game. I won’t allow him that. I won’t allow myself any of that. This is a pure game of chess, if I give in a pawn now, I will lose my knight, and I know it. I advice him to not be so closed minded when he praises you, only to get surprised by the charms of a natural logical mind. I find a way to hurt him, he is an easy target, I look at him as his eyebrows twitch and he summons his patience on me. He lost the plot about you already, his bruised pride taking over. You won’t come into my life.

“Un dì, felice, eterea, mi balenaste innante, e da quel dì tremante vissi d'ignoto amor.” (“On a day, happy and ethereal, you appeared in front of me and from that day, trembling, I lived on an unknown love”)

The words of Alfredo in the first act of the Traviata keep running through me, a chant that won’t let me go, almost painful. The Opera House, that was my hiding place, a place where in plain sight I could let out myself, unleash. The catharsis of the characters involved running through me, I didn’t need anything but their voices and those musical instruments to let out my fears, doubts and anger. When Alfredo came to the scene tonight, the lights were strong and slightly pinkish, the performer bursting out of the seams with passion. My eyes diverted only to see you there. Alone. Those blinding lights gave you the the radiance of a vision singing the notes of greek myths and heroes, that dark blue evening clothing rang through my eyes like it was a bright yellow, the little shiny details that adorned you so clear against the heavy lighting to look like transparent pieces of water collected to adorn your beauty. I wasn’t me, but Alfredo, and I was helpless against you sitting so far and yet too close from me. I was naked in front of thousands. I am aware of the effect you have on me and our last conversation was barely regarded as one. This is infatuation, this is the pure work of a lonely mind and not something worth of any of all the words that I am dissipating here. Yet. I saw you cry at the climax of the opera, Violetta, the protagonist, heartbroken falling on stage consumed by pain and regret for her lost love and ultimate sacrifice. Your eyes shone as you tried to hide the tears and collect yourself. Through my binoculars, I saw your throat tremble and gulp down something more than just a sigh of pain. Your jaw clenched, your gloved hand moves to hide your shaking lips. I reckon, I have never seen such sad lips look more inviting. You look at the wall on your side breathing through your nose and not even that can save you by the strength of the voice of the soprano. You’re defeated and so you brought a fine silk handkerchief to your eyes, your shoulders bent inward in self defence. The Opera won. It won you like it always wins me. I wonder if you felt like this because of a past lover, somebody that broke your heart and made you feel wrong in any way. And because of that little wonder it is even more clear to me why I am a man worth of no trust. Because for a moment, I know, I wished to be the one that broke your heart. That gave you just the pain you’re inflicting on me so mercilessly by offering intoxicating kindness and beauty. To own your thoughts, tears and shame. To be the one man you have to look away from. I want to own all of that and, maybe, I will be freed of you the day you’ll be just another human being that hates Dr Laszlo Kreizler.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams @charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone

Let me know if you want to get tagged too <3

#the diary of doctor laszlo kreizler #dr laszlo kreizler #laszlo kreizler #dr laszlo kreizler x reader #dr laszlo kreizler imagine #dr laszlo kreizler x you #laszlo kreizler x reader #laszlo kreizler headcanons #thealienist #the alienist fanfic #the alienist fanfiction

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krafterwrites · 2 years

Text

Alright, here’s the completed version of the trio’s house in The Sims 4! I’ve been working on this on and off for about a week, and I’m pretty happy with how it turned out overall. All of the screenshots with some additional info under the cut

This is the living room, it’s one of the more minimalist rooms in the house, but I like it

Another view of the living room, which shows off some more of the decorations. A little detail I like is that as well as the gaming console, there’s an item that represents everyone in the area: A potted plant for Teddy, some blue candles for Luna, and a cute little knitted octopus for Kit (I recently came up with the idea that one of Kit’s hobbies would be knitting/fabricworking since she would love the idea of making a piece of clothing for herself out of a roll of fabric with a flame pattern or another similar design, which would also lead to her working with yarn as well. I’m sharing this bc there’s a lot of furniture in the house that reflects this, it’s not just a random infodump hklfghklfgh)

Some side views of the living room, nothing really interesting to say about these

A photo of the dining room that Teddy photobombed, which is kind of fitting

A view of the kitchen, there is a lot of stuff on the counters here

A side view of the same stretch of counter

Idk how to describe this thing, it’s basically just a small table with a lot of kitchen themed decorations

Sorry for the weird angle on this one, the room is too small to capture in any other way. Fun fact, I actually had to remove the door for this shot, since it was blocking the view a lot

Here’s the hallway that leads to the trio’s bedrooms

These two paintings were definitely hung up by Teddy

Meanwhile, these ones were probably hung up by Kit

The last stretch of hallway, which also shows a peek into Kit and Luna’s rooms

This is the part that I’m most excited about, since there’s a lot of details in the bedrooms that I want to talk about (and I really like how the bedrooms turned out). This is Teddy’s bedroom, and as you can see, it is very plant themed

This photo shows off a lot of things that I’d like to talk about, so the caption for this is probably going to be pretty long. Starting with the desk, the pencils in the cup are mostly for him to write on sticky notes that he would occasionally put in books that he would read. The (Probably impossible to see) photo in the frame on the desk is literally just an apple on a white background. It’s mostly there because it was the nicest looking decoration that would fit in that spot, but for some reason I think it would be in character for Teddy to have a framed picture of an apple on his desk. Moving onto the shelf above his bed, the tiny orange and blue thing is a little knitted bear that Kit made for him. The flower lamp below it was put there because it looked nice, but now that I think about it, it would be perfect for reading in bed

The cute decal above the door is from The Sims version of Pokemon, which I think he would enjoy a lot. The things on the shelf to the left are beverage cans (I think they’re basically thermoses) and a camera, since he would like to take photos of nature and his friends. The penguin with a hat and the 3 green pixels on the bookshelf are more little knitted guys from Kit, the other two things are a cherry blossom tree snowglobe and a bottle of honey from Honeycomb Village that he keeps as a memento

Lastly, there’s his nice floral design dresser, which has two of his favorite things on top of it

Onto Kit’s rooms, this has just as many if not more things to ramble about, so the long chunks of text aren’t over yet. The main thing visible in this one is her craft desk where she makes all of her knitted stuff, and a little orange ghost thingy hanging above the storage shelf. There’s also a cat shaped lamp, and a bi flag above her bed

Kit would definitely have a lot of posters hanging up in her room, mostly anime ones jklghljkgh

Another poster, this time a big (sims version of) Pokemon one hanging above her dresser, where she has a cat planter like the one on Teddy’s nightstand. There’s also a cool sci-fi sword mounted above the door, and triangle lights next to her gaming set up that I’m going to talk about next

Kit would definitely love RBG light stuff, so I made everything in her gaming area have rainbow lights. Onto the shelf that’s next to the PC setup, there’s a lot of stuff here, but I’m only going to talk about some of it since there’s like 14 things on it. It’s impossible to see, but on the lower areas of the shelf, there’s a framed Pokemon card and some earbuds, plus an unopened booster pack of cards. There’s also some smiley plant pots full of plants (That look like pretty easy to take care of plants since one of them is a cactus, which is a nice coincidence since it implies that Teddy gave Kit some low-maintenance plants since he knows that she doesn’t have experience tending to plants). There’s also a jar of candy since she has a sweet tooth, and a rack of swords above the shelf. Also yes I know the console being there is kind of weird since there’s already one in the living room, but I’m too tired to change the room and get a new screenshot, so we’ll both just have to accept it for now

Lastly, we’re on to Luna’s room, which I have a lot less to say about because there is pretty much nothing in there. I didn’t get lazy designing this one, though, Luna just doesn’t need that much stuff in her bedroom

This image probably isn’t necessary since it just shows a better view of the dresser, but I’m putting it in anyways

There was some spare room in the house, so I decided to convert it into a gym/lounge for Luna since her room wasn’t large enough for her to have any exercise equipment in. It has the same minimalist vibe (And the same wallpaper color)

I was originally going to put a punching bag in this room, but I found out that there was a sparring bot, so I decided to go with that instead

There’s a nice little seat here for Luna to relax on between workouts

There was more extra room that I didn’t want to use for Luna’s exercise room, so there’s a door in the middle of it that leads to a cluttered storage closet

This is Teddy’s garden outside of the house. I’m going to be honest, it does not look good at all, but I made it while in a terrible mood because I drank 3/4 of a small cup of black coffee, which was apparently more caffeine than I could handle (Fun fact, in addition to making you jittery and unfocused, having too much caffeine in your system also makes you very irritable) and I have already spent way too much time on this house. Maybe I’ll make it look good some other day

This is part of a nice outdoor area in the front yard, which does not look terrible like the garden does

Another view of the outdoor area

All the shade in the two previous photos comes from a giant flowering tree, which looks pretty nice imo. Also, the trio just standing there all staring in the same direction is pretty funny to me for some reason

Lastly, here’s a photo of the other plot of empty space in the front yard, which also does not look very good. Yeah, I’m not very good at designing outdoor spaces

Well, that’s the entire thing. If you actually read through this entire post and made it to this paragraph, then congratulations! I hope you enjoyed this house tour, because it took me a while to get all these photos and type all of this out

#Luna #Teddy #Kit #OC Brainrot #Krafter Plays The Sims

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

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Hi! I absolutely love your levihan stories! The way they care for each other is just gaaahhhhh.

I wanted to make an ask for a while, but I didn't have an idea. I was reading a story and got this random idea suddenly. How about Levi slipping in the bathtub and nearly drowning, but Hange hears the thud of his head hitting the edge or something and has to kick the door down and finds Levi submerged having breathed in water and with a bad gash where his head hit the tub?

Title: Triage

Summary:

"Levi could count with the fingers on his two hands, and maybe some of his toes, the few times he had seen Hange angry—very angry. Those rare times, she was a full blown tornado of screaming, shouting, kicking, rambling.

Albeit terrified, Levi had to note, Hange never raged for shallow reasons. Her terrifying rage, that came once a blue moon, always seemed to have a very good point."

For the first time in many years, Levi witnesses Hange's rage again.

Notes: I took some liberties with the prompt but I hope you still enjoy. Feedback is very much appreciated :D

NN from the last request: maybe he slips in the bath because of his broken leg from when he and mikasa saved Eren from the female titan?

Levi could count with the fingers on his two hands, and maybe some of his toes, the few times he had seen Hange angry—very angry.

It wasn’t something he liked to remember vividly, but it was something he ended up remembering anyway because of how jarring the whole scene of Hange’s rage was. She, who was usually more of like a whirlwind anyway, would suddenly transform into a full blown tornado.

A full blown tornado of screaming, shouting, kicking, rambling.

In whirlwinds and in gusts of screaming, shouting, she clarified logical points, rehashed commands, asked questions. At first her anger was chaos. When the dust cleared though, the haze dissipated, some poor sap always came out of it a learned man.

Her anger, that came once a blue moon, always seemed to have a point.

All completely comprehensible and thus, Levi could easily see reason and consequently be able to summarize the most anger inducing situations to two: One, any utterly stupid move that Hange cannot seem to understand which could cost hundreds, or thousands of lives. Two, utter negligence that could also cost hundreds or thousands of lives.

Notably, Hange would never release the uncontrollable storm for just one person. She had always been fun loving, peace loving. Although her sudden rise to the commander position had mellowed her down just a little, Hange always had a way of building camaraderie with even the lowest from such a high position, while at the same time demanding authority.

Maybe she mastered it, maybe there had been little to no reason to show that side of herself when she was constantly dealing with peace treaties and diplomacy issues.

At times, Levi wondered though, if that part of her had ever left.

It was something he pondered on, grappled with, when days were longer and workloads were kinder. Strangely, one day in late autumn, when the days were longer, when everyone was cramming as much work as they could before the holiday season came, Levi was reflecting on it for a little bit longer.

“Hange, are you okay?” The question forced itself into the conversation uninvited. Levi liked to blame the question for popping its head in like some audacious prick. Really, it had been his own fault at having downed one drink just too quickly that had gotten him at that. Of course, that hyperfixation on Hange, who was starting to look a little pink in the face too, had been at fault as well.

“I just have to go back to the office after this,” Hange slammed the glass in front of her. “Just one drink.” She added. This is the only drink I’ll have tonight.” She added again, after a few seconds.

She had a tendency of turning a little pink with just one cup. Levi wasn’t too nervous about it. Inebriation made him much quicker and much more confident about brushing problems away. “Do you really have to finish looking into those extra papers tonight?”

“Jean will be coming for them first thing in the morning. I don’t wanna keep any more diplomats waiting,” Hange explained. Her tendency to overwork was almost understandable. After all, Paradis was decades behind the rest of the world. With the impending war, Levi could only accept, while affording her a half smile.

They agreed on just half an hour, exchanging half baked ideas over one cup for Hange, two for Levi. Not enough for any of them to end up wobbling towards the exit. Levi hadn’t drunk in years though, having abandoned it after the adults in the survey corps had dwindled to just them. He just didn’t expect that just a sip of his second cup, would have him cross eyed for a moment. Luckily, he easily forgot about it with just a few quick blinks and a quick shake of the head.

“I should be asking you if you’re okay,” Hange said wryly. Her face had an almost pensive touch to it and Levi didn’t want to contribute to any more stress or sadness she might have been harboring then.

So he kept his answer brief, no room for questions. “I’m fine.”

Hange furrowed her brows at him. “Sure…” She started hesitantly. Then, she huffed. “Just make sure to go straight to the barracks… Okay?”

Before Levi could formulate a reply, Hange’s attention was suddenly elsewhere. She turned to her right. Levi followed suit to get a good view, only to be taken aback by the scuffle that had started only a few feet away.

Maybe drunkenness had him blending songs, conversations and scuffles all into one lively sound. The bar fight only stood out like a sore thumb when he focused on the two men, one carried a poor boy by the back of his hands, while another man readied his fists.

Before Levi could process the scene for just a little longer, Hange had come in between them. “Why don’t you keep fights to people your own age? You know this boy can’t beat you.”

“This kid’s parents are in debt,” one explained, his tone aggressive.

“Then send a payment request to his parents.” Hange kept her cool.

But for how long could they maintain the peace? Levi pulled himself up from his seat and wobbled closer to make more sense of the conversations

“We can’t collect…. They’re dead…”

There were many things Levi could stomach. Abuse, unnecessary bullying weren’t among them. Particularly when the child, an orphan at that, was much weaker than they were. He was ready to blink back his own dizziness to get at least one precise kick into the most proper place for a male asshole.

Hange though had been quicker, she had bent down. It turned out she had been dodging a punch. Everything after was a flash of movements Levi couldn't comprehend at his current state.

He stepped just a few feet back, enough to take better stock of the situation. The bar was crowded that night. A bar teeming with burly and most likely ill-intentioned men wasn’t anything new and he had made one mistake in his drunken state. He focused on two men, just among the others, separating those two from the crowds in the background.

Hange was balancing everything at once, keeping the kid safe, while delivering blows when necessary. She was skillful but with two men becoming roughly ten in just a split second, there were only too many ways she could defend herself.

So Levi bit back the alcohol that lingered in his mouth, the light pounding in his head and the way the lights and the quick motions just lingered for a little longer in his vision. He put one foot forward, ready to strike at the man approaching Hange. Defense and offense at such a state, when he was still working to get his flow and his bearings had him careless, receiving a sock to his upper left. He swallowed the bile that rose at his throat, closed his eyes for a second, blinking back the lights that settled in the black.

He managed to pull out before it could have been anything worse. His fighter instincts from the underground started to kick in soon after, ignoring the protests from his left side. They undermined whatever orders his injuries were screaming then.

Maybe that had been a good thing. In the end, humanity’s strongest had taken down ten men in the bar. Hange and the young boy had come out of it completely unscathed. The adrenaline had him breathing hard.

Levi still had his bearings. He turned back to Hange and breathed out. “Pay the tab. We’re getting out of here.”

***

The young boy was quick to introduce himself as they turned the corner of the bar, and made their way far from the store lined streets.

“I’m Joseph,” He started. Soon his words transformed into some over apologetic and grateful babble. Some Levi willed himself to comprehend, others he had been too disconcerted to pick up.

There were words he picked up more than others.

Orphanage. Illness. Mother. Dead. He soon put the puzzle pieces together himself.

Joseph had been staying in an orphanage just a half an hour ride away. His mother suddenly died from illness and before he even transferred to the orphanage, the men had ransacked his house for anything worth more than a penny, to help pay back the debt of his late father.

He just wanted a locket back, a last memento of his mother.

“I’ll coordinate with the other soldiers, see what I can do for you,” Hange said, coiling one hand around the boy’s shoulders.

“The police don’t listen,” he said in between tears.

“I’ll make them listen.”

The boy believed her, maybe he didn’t. Levi saw it appropriate that he himself stayed quiet. If Hange couldn’t convince the young boy, who could? Besides, his upper left side was killing him, his breaths were coming out in some strange rhythm and if he talked, would it make it come out as any worse?

“I’ll take you back to the orphanage first and I’ll see what I can do,” she consoled. “As soon as I get anything, I’ll make sure to send it over.”

“Those men are mean, please don’t hurt yourself.” Surprisingly, the boy seemed mature. Levi though was familiar with that trend, adversity seemed to do that to people.

“I won’t.” They turned another corner and Hange quickened her pace towards the barracks.

Levi followed behind, almost painfully. The quicker strides expected of him made him a little less tolerant of pain. He pressed his hand to his side for just a second. The sky was dark and pressing his side was a flash of movement, nobody should have noticed it except him. But somehow, he was self conscious.

Hange walked ahead though, the rhythm in her stride undisturbed. She hurried towards the stables but only pulled one horse out.

“You don’t need me to come with you?” Levi asked.

Hange shook her head. “It’s a short ride.” She helped the young boy on the horse and plopped herself lightly just right behind him. “I think I’m gonna spend some time in the headquarters tonight, do some research...” She looked pointedly at the kid.

“I’ll wait in the office---”

“No, go to the hospital.”

“Wait.. Why?” Levi spat.

Just a while ago, a few blows connected,” Hange said in a more serious tone. “It might be better if you have them checked out, just for some extra reassurance.” She turned her head toward the direction of the hospital only one block away.

“I think I have a few bruises,” Levi said. “But we’ve gotten much worse on the field.”

Hange gave him a pensive smile. “Just have it checked out, for me? It’s free for soldiers and I don’t think a free cold water compress could hurt.”

“I’ll just make one in your office.” They had a teapot and a kettle and they had some ice as well.

“I’ll pick you up from there on the way back.” There was no room for argument with that tone.

“I’ll wait then,” Levi said. He didn’t say anymore as he turned on his heel. Instead, he focused on the clip clop of the hooves as Hange galloped away. That was a sound that grounded him and when he kept his ragged breaths attune to that rhythm. Levi found that a constant rhythm made it much easier to focus on the road.

Either way, it looked like the walk would last an eternity.

***

For any sane person, it was a short convenient walk. Levi though was in this seemingly eternal trance of just overestimating then underestimating himself. Again and again.

He found ways to ground himself by focusing on the lights that dotted the corridors on the way to the hospital entrance connected to their barracks. He looked at the corridor leading to the commander’s office, almost tempted to turn the heel and treat for himself whatever injuries Hange might have seen in him.

I’ll pick you up from there on the way back. He didn’t have any way to coordinate with Hange then so he trudged straight ahead. The way to meet up with Hange much faster was to just bite his lip and brave the hospital over a few seemingly small injuries.

He had to work harder to contain himself as he saw the crowds from the crack through the half opened door.

Joy. Levi thought to himself. The emergency room was completely full on a weekday night. He settled for one of the benches at the back. The nurses were going around distributing forms and fortunately, he didn’t have to go up to sign anything.

“Some bruising,” Levi answered.

“Understood sir. We’re a bit full tonight so we might have to put you at the bottom of triage.”

Levi only nodded in acceptance, not wanting to waste any more energy or time coming up with something more polite to say. He leaned his back on the bench and stared up at the ceiling. It would be a long wait.

As soon as Hange came anyway, it would be a less tortuous wait, he was sure. She’d find some way to liven up the waiting room with her own chatter. Or maybe, she would see the line, realize it was a dumb idea and have him go back to the barracks and rest.

***

Levi must have dozed off. He jumped on his seat, biting back the white pain that flashed through him at the abrupt movement that pulled him out of stupor.

“Fucking hell, Hange,” Levi hissed.

Hange made herself at home right next to him. She put a hand to his forehead. “You still look a little tipsy.”

“And being tipsy doesn’t merit a trip to the emergency room,” Levi argued.

“It’s not that…” Hange said. “How long… before they call you?” In reply, Levi looked around the room, then back at her. “It depends how pressing the situation is, right? That’s how hospitals work when too many people are injured at once,” he said with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Hange stood up, walked ahead to the counter with the nurse. Soon, a doctor approached her and Hange was discussing, gesticulating, and she put a hand to her side.

You’re overreacting. Levi allowed himself a weak smile as he mimicked her actions, pressing his hand to his upper abdomen. He let out a hiss and swallowed once again whatever had climbed up to his throat.

It was as if Hange teleported back to the seat next to him. “I talked to the doctors, explained the situation. They should be coming back here anytime soon.”

Levi didn’t reply. He saw that as a cue for her to leave, focus on whatever was at hand. She was twiddling her thumbs, she started to play with the wood splinters that stuck out of the bench.

And Levi was constantly reminded by her own restlessness, she had things to do, she couldn’t waste her time there when she had documents to prepare, diplomats to please and some locket she promised a young boy.

His insides were on fire, his breaths were coming out uncontrollably but he saw enough reason to muster a firm order. As her friend. He reminded himself. “Go back to the office. I’ll meet you there.”

Hange was surprisingly easy to convince. All he needed to do was get through the quick back and forth that followed.

“I’ll pick you up a bit later?”

“No, just go up. Go back to work.”

“What about---”

“I’ll meet you in your office.”

Soon, Hange had made a quick trip to the counter, had a quick exchange with the nurses.

“I’ll meet you at the office,” Levi said again for emphasis. That second time was notably harder to let out though.

“I told the nurses to alert me if anything happens.”

Overreacter. “I’ll meet you in the office,” Levi said once again.

Hange walked away with nothing more than a nod. At the least, that was one source of pressure out of the way.

***

The wait didn’t last much longer after that. He was led to a room, no time for pleasantries.

There were many others waiting. Soon after that brief check up, there would be someone else waiting. Maybe they were outside the room already.

The doctor asked him to undress and Levi focused on whatever glimpse of his chest he could get then as he removed his shirt. His chest was still a raw red, maybe there were beginnings of bruises among them. Levi couldn't even bring himself to look down for fear of sending another rush of nausea through him.

“Are you feeling nauseous? Any dizziness?”

“Yes,” he admitted.

“Commander said, you got involved in a fist fight…”

“At a bar…”

“And you drank?”

“Just two cups.”

The doctor sighed, handing him back his shirt. “I’ll have the nurse prepare an ice pack for whatever bruises you sustained. You should be clear to leave.” The doctor scribbled something on his notebook.

A few minutes later, Levi had a cold compress and a prescription for rest and painkillers. Fortunately, he had the freedom to not be in the hospital so he headed for Hange’s office, gripping the ice pack just a little harder. It did some work to manage his overall soreness and the throbbing pain in his upper right. Levi bit his lip.

It took him thirty minutes to reach the office. He had expected it to take five minutes. Levi though had taken some breaks in between, leaning back on the wall, taking in breaths much stronger than usual.

He opened the office door with a creak and it looked like Hange hadn’t been too engrossed with whatever she was reading like she usually was. Strangely, she looked up at him, her eyes wide. “You’re here…” She said.

“You don't want me to be here?” Levi asked. He used that blessing of the moment to lean on the door to subtly catch his breath once again.

“No it’s just that… Did the doctor say anything?” Hange stood up from her desk, and quickly gathered the papers in front of her.

“Bed rest and to ice the bruises.”

Hange moved quickly. Levi didn’t even notice her come closer until she had tapped her hand on his shoulder. “I’m gonna work in the bedroom.”

“Wait, not in the office? You can’t concentrate in the bedroom right?”

“I think you should rest there for the night, and I think I’ll be better able to concentrate, knowing you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re resting in the bedroom, that’s an order,” Hange said firmly.

She was playing the commander card again. By the looks of it, she would be hard to sway. She had gathered all her paperwork, slipping the thick wads of paper just under her arm. She had turned off the lights and when Hange walked a few inches ahead with that much confidence while gripping his wrist tightly, he saw no choice but to follow.

***

There was a nice bathtub in the commander’s room and Levi insisted he get enough time to himself to clean up the muck, the alcohol and the sweat that came with the fist fight. Hange had insisted he didn’t lock the door but a need for privacy had him a little naughty and a little assertive.

He pressed on the lock on the door slowly, enough to spit the sound of the click into three careful movements.

For the first time in a while, he was grateful for Hange’s pile of work. She didn’t seem to notice.

Stripping off his clothes was a methodical task and Levi realized, if he focused on the slipping movements more than the actual searing pain that followed, he could get anything done. Maybe even cover the few feet that separated the door from the bathtub.

He started off by biting his lip and bending over just far enough to be able to fiddle comfortably with the faucets. He couldn’t bring himself low enough to reach for the plug but even before that, he had made sure to twist both faucets to full blast so he wouldn’t have to deal with the bath emptying too quickly,

The soap was on the other side of the tub and Levi decided to put off grabbing it until he was submerged on the tub. He had spent just a little too much time staring at the soap bar and maybe the gears in his head were turning a little too fast, coming up with the best way to stretch out and reach for it.

There were more pressing matters at hand like the nausea, the pain at his side, the pounding in his head and his utter inability to focus. When he was dealing with those all at once, it was only natural he would run out of mind space.

The slippery part had been something he failed to consider. The last thing he remembered was stepping onto the tub, his eyes fixed on the soap in front of him. And before he could even consider anything else, his foot lost grip on the slimy bathtub.

Then his feet weren’t connected anywhere and he was free falling.

Everything blurred around him as something pulled him forward, into the water. He instinctively put his hands in front of him, once again neglecting the rim of the tub for one fatal second.

One fatal second that ended with a burst of white hot pain.

Pain had been kind for a while after that, settling as something dull at the back of his mind. It had done wonders as well to consume whatever throbbing sensation was eating at his abdomen then. He soon realized, if he closed his eyes, the pain only settled deeper into him, as something almost comforting.

And he realized there were warmer things, there were kinder things surrounding him, like the water that tickled at his sides.

Hey are you okay? There were knocks on doors.

“I’m fine.” He would have liked to muster. The water though that started with a tickle, continued to climb, up to his ears, then up to his mouth.

Her voice deadened to something faint. Faint shouts? Slams of doors. Faint, but annoying loud.

The water had done its part to blanket him, protecting him from the most annoying sounds.

Then when it deadened into nothing. Levi couldn’t help but be just a little relieved.

***

On most days, Hange was a whirlwind. On other special days, Hange was a cyclone.

Recently though, she had mellowed down into something less assertive, tamer, more predictable than a whirlwind.

Maybe a windy day? Levi would surmise when he thought comparing Hange to weather would be a good way to pass the time.

That had become a strange habit he would indulge occasionally. Something quick. Something subtle. Something he didn’t think too much of until he had enough time to be a little more observant of the weather patterns around him.

It was only when he woke up with bleary eyes, still too groggy to even do much but turn to his side, to the narrow white door, did he realize for himself. It was only when despite all that, Levi was attempting to listen intently to whatever scuffle was on the other side of the door, did he realize, god he missed that Hange.

He made out her voice, much wilder than before, her tone more dynamic and Levi was perking his ears up, attempting to break off from that sleepiness to pick up what he can.

He hadn’t heard that Hange in years. It could have been a dream for all he knew.

“The medical technique from Azumabito…. Saved his life….”

“You wouldn’t have had to rely on it if you caught it early on!”

“It was a busy night commander. He seemed fine at first---”

“Believe me… I understand but… Any other day… I gave you my own speculation doctor.” Hange’s voice had mellowed just a little bit. She had clipped the assertion with a title at least. Still, Levi couldn’t help but note that the tone sounded more like a ‘Hange’ than a ‘Commander’

“Yes--”

“No, listen to me… I may not be a doctor but I think the best course of action there was to have felt for any tenderness on his side right? Did you do that?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Then why did you say you did it a while ago? Believe me, if you did, if you caught this early on, I’m sure he wouldn't be in as bad of a state as he is now.”

“Still, we’re grateful we were able to---”

“Catch it on time? He. Could. Have. Died.” There were slams of feet, slams on the wall, accenting every syllable and Hange said every word like it was bitter to her lips. “I’m honestly fucking grateful he slipped on the bathtub. At least, it brought him back here and you had to give him a full body examination. I don’t think you would have done it any other way!”

“Commander, please calm down.” The voice very much sounded like Moblit. A nostalgic but also very wistful thought. Of course it wouldn’t be Moblit. Moblit was long gone.

When Levi listened for a little longer, he picked it out in the midst of Hange’s tirade. “Jean?” Even saying a one syllable name turned out to be an ordeal. He painstakingly turned his head back and stared at the ceiling, blinking a few more times, an attempt to focus.

Focus came quickly a second later, with crashes and slams of wood on wood right after the other. Enough to have Levi shift the weight to his elbows, sit up for a second long enough to realize he couldn’t stay up for longer than that.

“Commander…”

“Jean… Carelessness...negligence….” Hange’s voice was softer than a while ago. Still, it was sharp, words were emphasized. Words he had managed to pick out, just by listening closely.

The door to his room opened and Hange entered. Surprisingly, it didn’t close with a bang. Whatever remnants of anger was still very much apparent on her face.

Hey four eyes. By god, he wanted to call her four eyes. She seemed more like a ‘four eyes.’ The anger, the aftermath had left Hange looking more like the Hange back then. So Levi stared a little longer, willing himself to find that balance between widening his eyes and squinting, just to get the clearest possible picture of her.

Hange’s eyes widened as he caught her gaze but she didn’t look too happy to see him. “You should go to sleep,”

How long was I out? “How long…” He managed to say.

“You had surgery just a few hours ago. You slipped on the bath tub and the door was fucking locked. I had to break it down. And god, Levi, you almost drowned....”

To his shock, he realized he didn’t even remember much of what followed the slams on the door.

Hange continued on, her voice echoing against the four walls. “Hell, you’re not even supposed to be awake.” A bout of realization in her eyes. She put one hand on her mouth. “Was I loud? Did I wake you up?” Hange’s question was laughable and if Levi had any more energy in him, maybe he would have let out a light chuckle.

He spared a subtle smile instead.

“I was huh?” Hange said. “Sorry about that.”

Suddenly, Levi had the motivation to shake his head and spare three words despite the pounding in his head. “I missed that.”

“MIssed what?” Hange asked.

By that point, Levi didn’t have much energy to reply. Instead he let his eyes dart from left to right, trying to take in as much as he can of her at once. He trusted Hange to be perceptive of that at least.

If she did notice it.

“You’re gonna have to take more time to explain that,” Hange admitted. She dropped one light hand on his forehead. “But not now, I’d rather you took this time to rest first.” She mellowed again and Levi had to painfully note that the voice had shifted to something more serious once again.

The faint recall of the old Hange justa moment ago, behind closed doors was all he had.

Don’t be ashamed. Be yourself. Don’t be too hard on yourself. There were too many things Levi would have wanted to say at that moment. The words dried up, crumbling into sawdust even before he could completely open his mouth to say it.

He closed his mouth again, ready to restart the painful process of attempting to speak. Someone knocked and the door opened again way before he even started to feel some strength.

“Commander. The military police came to pick up the documents. I kept them posted on the situation. They’ll look into it now, process the paperwork…” Jean’s eyes were on Hange as he spoke. They soon fell to Levi. “Captain, you’re awake.”

“He’ll be going back to sleep soon,” Hange said, as if it were an indirect order. It wasn’t too hard to follow. Sleep was like a phantom looming over him. He just had to let it do its work.

There were still things he hadn’t completely comprehended and curiosity was good at keeping his surroundings lucid. He reached for Hange’s hand, in one swift motion enough to even leave his hand dizzy.

Hange turned back to him. “Levi, rest.”

He didn’t have to speak. All he had to do was blink, nod his head and Hange pulled the chair to his bedside.

“If I humor you now, will you make sure to rest?”

His energy was limited but if he pickled the right words, the right syllables he could get the answers he needed.

How bad?

Hange was his closest friend for a reason. She knew it at first glance. “I rushed you to the hospital as soon as you fell unconscious.” She put a hand to her head. “You had a concussion… But you know, it wasn't the concussion that was life threatening. Your spleen… it completely ruptured. They had to take it out. You’re gonna be out of it for a while…”

If the survey corps did anymore combat, maybe Levi would have been more worried. Recently, work usually consisted of paperwork anyway.

How long?

“You’ll be here for a few weeks maybe. Then more rest when you get discharged. You’re in really bad shape…” Levi looked behind Hange to see Jean standing awkwardly. There were only too many coherent ways to ask about the kid. He moved his hand up to his chest and drew a shape.

The locket?

“We got the issue with Joseph under control,” Hange said.

Jean stepped forward, moving closer towards the bed. “Commander Hange managed to find some records on them. Joseph’s father used to work with the Reeves company. He got involved in the underground, got blackmailed into dishing a lot of his pay for their silence. With the right investigation, we might be able to turn the tables around, get them to confess and maybe return the money or even more to their son but it’s gonna take a lot of meetings, negotiations---”

As if they had heard the word, some almost recognizable recruit entered. “Commander Zoe, the military police want to clarify a few more things about the papers submitted.”

“Give me a minute.”

“They’re waiting outside, commander.”

Hange sighed. “I’ll meet them now.” She turned back to Jean. “Watch over Levi first.”

Within an hour, Hange had shifted from the angry Hange to the mellow Hange then to the serious commander Hange. Levi watched her go for a few seconds longer, noting the strides that exuded the confidence and professionalism that came with her position.

Jean took up the empty chair Hange left and Levi was slightly ticked that she could have been replaced so fast. Somehow, his head was still keeping the screaming Hange on the other side of the door on replay.

“How are you feeling captain?”

Shitty.

“Commander Hange said you should be resting.”

Levi managed a light nod.

“Please rest,” Jean said.

Levi started to notice it then with him much nearer. His shoulders were tensed up, his hands on his lap and his voice, his smile both more stiff than usual. He furrowed his brows as if to say “are you okay?”

Jean was definitely rattled. “I don’t think I’d wanna see our commander like that again...” He admitted, a weak smile on his face but Jean’s eyes showed fear more than anything else.

No shit. Levi was very familiar with that Hange, having had his own fateful encounters with her over the years.

“Before you woke up… She got mad… Very mad… ”

Oh? Levi mouthed.

Jean was starting to flail his hands a little more. “God she was like a tornado. She was kicking benches. She was slamming walls…”

First time?

“But I don’t blame her… It was really negligence on their part. Apparently Hange had told them a while back to give you a thorough check…” He gave Levi a onceover. “Turns out she was right.”

Levi put one hand to his side, noting the tight bandaging and padding, Even a light tap was enough to send painful sparks through him. He stifled a wince.

“Be careful.” Jean clutched his hand, guiding it back down to the bed. “She might just get angry again if you disobey her.”

She wouldn’t. Hange didn’t get angry like that anymore. He couldn’t help but think though, he would have liked that. Levi didn’t let that thought out as anything more than a surreptitious smile. He looked back up at the ceiling and allowed himself a ragged exhale.

“She won’t,” Levi managed to say. “She mellowed down already.” The last few syllables came out more like a raspy cough.

“Captain, don’t hurt yourself.”

When Levi bit at his lip, cleared his throat, he realized he could muster a few more words. He gave Jean an indignant look.

Jean sighed, dropping his shoulders in defeat. “Something tells me you’ve seen her like this before. You know her best... What makes her angry? You know, so we can avoid it in the future.”

Negligence. Competence. When hundreds of lives were on the line.

Levi could have answered Jean’s question clearly or maybe it came out as mumbles. When everything was starting to blur against each other, it didn’t make it worth clarifying how much left his lips.

“When hundreds of lives are on the line?” Jean asked.

Usually.

With Jean’s question hovering above them in silence for a second longer, he started to doubt himself. There was negligence, incompetence involved but hundreds of lives on the line? He was just one life.

Maybe he had been a little too hasty in concluding what went on on the other side of the door. Those last few moments before he let exhaustion take over, Levi became aware of the taste of sawdust on his lips, the smell of alcohol and his own utter sleepiness.

“I’ll have the nurses come in to refill your pain medication. For now, you should rest.”

Right. He was on medications. So his mind started to shake with questions. Ones he would have liked to answer before he gave in to the trappings of sleep.

How much of what went on behind the doors was real? Did Hange really kick, slam furniture? Did she scream like a mad man? Was she a full blown cyclone?

He would never know. Besides, there was a door between them. All he had was sounds, his own facilities marred by whatever medication they were pumping him with and his own memory to make conclusions for himself.

He fell back to bed with one conclusion, one he had built for himself over the years and came back to him as one musing before he fell back to sleep.

When Hange was angry, very angry, she was a full blown tornado of screaming, shouting, kicking, rambling. She was a full blown tornado that had the rare quality of just making sense.

Her anger, that came once a blue moon, always seemed to have a point.

At first, Levi had managed to summarize the most anger inducing situations to two: One, any utterly stupid move that Hange cannot seem to understand which could cost hundreds, or thousands of lives. Two, utter negligence that could cost hundreds or thousands of lives.

Maybe there was a third anger inducing situation that only bared its fangs then, powerful enough to release itself even outside the commander facade. And maybe it didn’t have to be a hundred lives on the line for that monster to show itself.

Half asleep, his memories a blur and with the white door between them, he couldn’t be too sure if that had really been the cyclone he had witnessed a few times before. So he left it as speculation, something to indulge.

He focused instead on sleeping, on the rustle of pages and the wind that streamed through the window.

Reminiscing on the old Hange could wait. He still had lots of recovering to do.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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wizardlyghost · 2 years

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- i just realised, in NICK’s lore drop at the MEMORY DEN i'm not sure he explicitely mentioned that he had the memories of a pre-war detective like he did just now? it feels like he’s kinda opening up to me about it now, which doesn’t make sense if he’s told me this before.

- i think i may have just been sleep deprived and mixed in something i’d picked up from existing on tumblr all this time. ah well i officially know it on all levels of gameplay now anyway.

- this maybe explains why he has an old NEWSPAPER on his desk too! maybe HUMAN!NICK had something to do with the headline case - KELLOGG’s memories were fragmented and incomplete, so maybe SYNTH!NICK is trying to memento his way to the end of the case and figure out how it ended. there’s like a 50% chance there’s a quest here and 50% that i’m reading too much in to a random piece of set dressing.

- anyway, i decided to keep exploring DIAMOND CITY for the hell of it, because the alternative was going to bed at a reasonable time (i make notes while i’m playing the game but sometimes leave it too late to type them up/edit for spelling/transfer across screenshots/etc. so this is unfortunately only a relatively live blog today, but i am recreating my in-the-moment thoughts as best as i can.)

- my dude PERCY in the marketplace sounds exhausted. i interacted with MYRNA one time and she acts like a bitch - i feel like she’s mistreating him on the grounds of being a robot.

- two guys had a fist fight in a bar.

- yet another lady hit on me.

- some bizarre bougie from the “upper stands” was a condescending asshole to me. lady this is FENWAY PARK i have stepped on half eaten hot dogs where your house now is.

- NICK continues to be the most insightful motherfucker in this entire town.

#FALLOUT 4: THE RESURRECTION OF OSHA #FALLOUT 4 LIVEBLOG: THE GHOST FALLS OUT #fallout 4

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admiringlove · 4 years

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IX: aparecium; an incantation to always remember.

— you finally read all the other pages of his diary.

+pairing: miya atsumu x reader.

+genre: crossover(hq x hp); fluff; angst; frenemies to lovers.

+word count: 2.9k.

+warnings: FLUFF!! pls, if i don’t put fluff, some of my moots would cry(*cough* ray).

+usual customers(taglist): @babyworld @renee1414 @anotherhydrangea @seita @tobiosnoelle @weebslxt @tsukkiwaifu16 @loveusandoor @kozumebri @sarawrz @crackheadsara @kyuudere @cultsax @supernovaa-a @akaashikeijisan @b3llo-there @sugasloverr @kagebunshiin @tetsurolls @velvetfireworks @kritiiiii @1wai@seijohlogy @sweetrosemilktea @bellesowl @ems1des @akaashi-todorki @sakuric @irishhbamb @sweetsamus @cherriechurros @mxshimoo @bluebirdandcomrades @zukuroo @denki-core @sarahvvictoria @littlevoxine

+author’s notes: this is the last chapter(im def not sad) BUT i will be writing bonus parts!!

+navigation: previous, masterlist,.

You stand in front of your apartment, sighing as you close your eyes, making your way inside your bedroom and begin to pick up the cardboard boxes with the help of your wand, moving them outside into the living room for someone(who is quite late, yet again) to take to your new home.

You tie your hair up, fixing your overcoat a little as you sigh, making your way to the smallest box, placed in the corner of the room. Just by looking at the stamp on top of it, you smile.

The memories of your time at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

You carefully sit on your knees, your plaid skirt riding up just a smidge, as you open the carton in front of you.

To say that it was filled up completely was an understatement because right now, a few books and photographs fell out onto your lap, making you chuckle. You picked up the photographs, settling with your back against the wall and your legs stretching out, as you looked through them one by one.

The first one—one of your graduation ceremony, standing next to Shimizu Kiyoko(the current owner of the most popular Quidditch shop in London) who was beaming vividly at the camera with you, holding up your wands as a gesture that you had finally done it. Something that seemed almost insurmountable when you first started school, and now? You all were content, happy with your lives.

The second photograph was one from the third year, your first time in Hogsmeade. You were in The Three Broomsticks, and a mustache of the froth from the butterbeer had formed atop your lips. Behind you, a certain fox pointed and laughed his guts out.

The next picture was from the Shrieking Shack—where all of your friends had ditched the second last day of school and spent the whole day drinking and reminiscing the past seven years of nostalgic happiness. A boy held your hand with the fondest look in his carob orbs, and you returned it.

You gingerly took the three photos, storing them in the photo album that had also fallen out of the box in the process of you opening it. Smiling, you took out some more mementos.

Your broomstick, the Nimbus 2001, sat at the bottom, but you excitedly removed it and placed it on the ground, saying, "Up!"

It almost made it to your hand but fell down upon grazing your fingertips. You pouted, blaming the number of years it had passed since you had played Quidditch. Peering into the box as you placed the broomstick aside, you found something even funnier.

Cheap, piss colored hair-dye that was almost ten-years-old.

You chuckled, looking at it playfully as you opened the top of the bottle. The disgusting odor that came from it made you grunt as you immediately placed the cap back on top, never desiring to touch that thing ever again. And once more, you placed the item in your hand to the side, looking into the box to find more things that reminded you of your happiest years.

You couldn't believe your eyes at what sat at the bottom of the carton.

An empty notebook with a soft leather cover, with a grey quill by its side, sitting there and ridiculing you.

You blinked twice, making sure what you were seeing was real. Hell, you even rubbed your eyes until you could see mindless patterns in the dark. You opened your eyes, the patterns making themselves sort of visible in plain sight, disappearing after a few milliseconds when you grabbed the brown book in front of you and whispered with your wand in hand, "Aparecium."

September 2, 20**.

I don’t know what I’m doing at this point. It’s been 3 years since I started loving her. When I saw her walk into the train today, umm, yesterday cause it’s past 2 AM now… I felt so happy?? I mean, I know I tease her and all, she’s quite amazing. She’s got the brains for it all and insults me back even when I say something stupid. I really dunno. 3 years and I’ve made 0 progress. I seriously need to re-think my decision about my love for this girl 'cause 'Samu says there’s no chance she loves me back. Dunno if I’ll be able to stop my feelings, though. I’ve liked her since my second year. Damn me, for being such a lovesick puppy. And to think I colored my hair for her too. [Y/N] called it piss-colored. Out of all things, why the fuck would ya compare somebody’s hair to piss? That’s utterly disgusting. I wonder where [L/N] gets these dumb ideas. Damn her, that slug. Anyways, I have class in a couple hours. G'night.

'Tsumu.

You immediately let out a hearty laugh, flipping to the next page when you remembered a certain encounter with the boy who wrote the diary. The day he told you he loved you, by the infamous Black Lake, he spoke of this particular page. He said that he addressed the nightly trips around Hogwarts, about how much he longs to be yours, about his happiness when he sees you, and your snarky comments that are just as, if not more, witty than his.

September 4, 20**

Today was the third day of school. Also my first trip around Hogwarts with [Y/N] under my invisibility cloak. We snuck into the kitchens and got ourselves steak pies and treacle tarts, and then went to the Astronomy Tower where we ate them while laughing about nothing in particular. I love these little trips. They make me all warm and fuzzy inside. Dunno how to put it into words, but I really like spending time with her alone. It makes me really really really happy. I wish that someday, maybe when I'm all grown up and play for a known Quidditch Team and she's a DADA professor, we are still like this. Going around to aimless places, eating food, and laughing about the old times(or anything really, I just want to be with her even when I'm older). And just like always, she doesn't fail to throw dumb comebacks at me. I can't help but chuckle at them, because sometimes they really are offensive. Well, looks like it's time to hit the hay now, so g'night.

'Tsumu.

You gasp as the page comes to an end, a hand on your mouth. He wasn't wrong when he said he wrote about you. You smile as a tear runs down your cheek as you flip to a random page this time, and you realize that it's written in his sixth year of Hogwarts.

December 23, 20**

I stayed back for Christmas break this year and my dorm is all empty. So is hers, because she says she didn't want to go back home at all until the summer. I feel bad for her gran, that woman must feel lonely.

You giggled at the line, grinning because you remember your grandma sending you a Howler, which yelled at you in the empty dorm-room for not coming home for the holidays. She said she missed you, and that your grandfather's health was deteriorating. She had also said that she knew why you didn't come back, and that it was okay, because she understood that you couldn't see another loved one go. The Howler ended on a sorrowful note, but everything eased back into its place because you remember the writer of the diary in your hands being there to comfort you when a dreaded letter came in after the holidays. You continued reading where you left off, wiping away the new wave of tears that had emerged from the memories.

Yesterday, me and [Y/N] went around the castle under the invisibility cloak I gave her. It was fun because I always get to see this little smile on her face that only shows up during these trips. We also went to the forbidden section of the library just because we wanted to look at a few spells that are probably illegal. I did accidentally kill a rat practicing the second unforgivable curse, and [Y/N] helped me hide all the evidence by feeding the dead rat to the Hippogriff she had found in the Forbidden Forest. I swear, if someone saw the way I did the spell and couldn't stop until [Y/N] threw Expelliarmus at me, they would throw me in the deepest pin in Azkaban and I'd probably never be able to see [Y/N] again. Anyway, I have to go back out for dinner now. G'night.

'Tsumu.

You, again, laughed at the man's childishness. You recollect distinctly how scared he was, that he had almost pissed his pants in the Courtyard that night. You had assured him that nothing would go wrong and that your lips were completely sealed, because he was your friend of course, so you had quickly formulated a plan to help him. And yet again, you flip to a new page, one from the fifth year this time.

July 15, 20**

I hate this part every year. Ever since my third year, it sickens me to come back home for summer. I can't see her because she lives in Lambeth while I'm in Westminster with my posh family. It makes me a little angry sometimes that my family is well-known in the wizarding world because this means my summers are filled with whatever my parents want me to do. The train ride back home was definitely not quiet. It was so chaotic(mostly because of the constant bickering between me and [Y/N]) and Kita-san yelled at us at the end. That was the first time I've ever seen him get angry, so he was either really fed up or we were being too dumb. Anyway, I'm gonna miss Hogwarts a lot for the next month or so, because after that I get to see her again. Honestly? Can't wait for the sixth year. I hope she grows taller, because right now, she's quite the midget. I'll write her a letter or two, but I probably won't send all of them. G'night for now.

'Tsumu.

You continue reading it all. Page by page, parchment by parchment, word by word, letter by letter until you finally get to the last page. The one he wrote on the graduation day, where he says that he wants to marry you someday. But you don't get to read it just yet, because he walks into the room with his booming voice and boyish grin.

"[Y/N]! Sorry I'm late, sweetheart! I apparated back home as fast as I could 'cause Coach saw me slack off a lil-"

"So ya actually read it all, huh?" he smirks, walking up to you and crouching down next to you, "Ah, the last page, have ya read it yet?"

"Not the last one," you smile, "—if only I'd read these sooner, we wouldn't have gone through all that mindless drama in seventh year, right?"

"Eh, 'twas kinda worth it in the end," he shrugs, sitting down next to you and placing his thumb on your chin, "Love, you've been crying?"

You shook your head lightly, letting out a small chuckle which to him sounded like the sweetest melody on the face on the planet, "Tears of joy, 'Tsumu. You were a cute teenager in love."

He smiles with his teeth on display, his fading blonde hair falling on his face with perfection as he whispers, "Only for you, darling."

"I'm glad," you mutter, closing in and placing a ghost of a kiss on his lips when you realize, "Wait, shit! We have to take all of this to the House! I'm supposed to leave for Hogwarts tonight!"

"Kiss me first, then we'll talk."

"'Tsumu, you really didn't have to come all the way to Hogwarts to drop me off," you giggle, as the yellow-haired man intertwines his fingers with yours quietly, giggling along with you as he says, "Hey, now yer students get to see yer hot boyfriend that you've been with for the past eight years."

"My stupid boyfriend that did a lot of illegal things in school. You're not exactly a good influence, you know," you mumble, earning a little offended open-mouth Atsumu walking alongside you to your quarters. He continues faking the vexed expression, a hand on his heart as he says, "How could ya wound me like this, baby?"

"I love you though, so it's justified," you say, opening the door and placing your trunk by the bed. He closes the door, leaning on it with his arms crossed over his chest as you set up your things in the room. When you turned around, you saw Atsumu looking at you with the most enamored look in his clove-infused eyes. You sighed, your shoulders immediately relaxing when your orbs land on him by the door. You step towards him, your beige trench coat trailing behind as you wrap your arms around his very muscular figure(now that he's a part of Nottingham Jackals as a Beater).

"You're going to leave, aren't you?" you mumble against his chest softly, as he chuckles out, "Yer lucky ya get to stay in Hogwarts when I'm gone. Everything's gonna remind ya of me."

Before you open your mouth to retort, your boyfriend says, "Don't worry, slug. I'll send ya letters everyday. And I'll come to meet ya twice a month. Maybe you can even let me meet yer students."

"'Tsumu, no-"

"Imagine! Children and teenagers, all of 'em love me to death. They'll love yer class, even more, when you make me meet 'em!" he exclaims, his eyes filled with curiosity, "Also, also! What about the third years? I wanna be there when the boggart lesson goes on-"

"'Tsumu, no. The school won't allow it. Although, my students do come and ask about you a lot because they like your Quidditch playing skills. They're not idiots like me, they won't fall in love with your stupid personality," you chuckle, pulling away from the hug, but still holding his arms with yours. He pouts, pulling you into a soft kiss, but immediately pulling away and winking at you, "I'm gonna see ya in a few weeks. Maybe I'll take ya on a date to Hogsmeade again, we can sneak into the Shrieking Shack again under that invisibility cloak."

"'Tsumu, I'm a teacher, not a student!" you laugh, but he simply says, "If anything, that gives us an excuse!"

Miya Atsumu never expected you to be agitatedly running around in your green-room, trying to find things for your hair and make-up. He chuckles lightly because all the other people in the room can do is shake their heads and sigh at your frantic state. Your maid-of-honor, Kiyoko, tried to calm you down about half an hour ago, but it was to no avail.

Atsumu sent Kiyoko a knowing glance, to which she and all the other bridesmaids stepped outside for just a minute.

"[Y/N]," he says, his voice low but still soothing. You stop in your tracks, turning around and gasping as you looked at him—clad in sweatpants and a white shirt—and widened your eyes.

"Dummy, you aren't supposed to see me just yet! Go away and wait at the altar!" you yell, walking over to him and attempting to shove him outside the room.

Emphasis on the word, 'attempting'.

"You look exactly like what you are right now, a slug. So listen to me, love. I need to give ya something before you start stressin' out all over again," Atsumu murmurs, placing his hands on your shoulders tenderly as he pulls out a book with a leather cover and hands it to you.

You sigh, picking it up as you sit down by the vanity. Atsumu looms behind you, crouching down to whisper next to your ears, "Love, open the last page, will ya?"

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, turning your head to look at him with exasperation. He places a peck to your cheek, humming indulgently as an indicator for you to continue as he instructed. You sigh again, shoulders drooping low as you turn over the book and open it, and muttering, "Aparecium."

July 2, 20**.

I want to marry [L/N] [Y/N] someday.

Miya Atsumu.

From the last day of the seventh year, and Atsumu continues to explain to you that during the train ride back home when all of you were sleeping, was when he wrote the last entry of his diary, and never opened it again. Because he knew, that he meant every word scribbled on every page.

You sat there, listening to the man with the messy faded blonde hair, losing yourself in his perfect brown eyes all over again. You felt as if you were diving deep into an ocean of pure chocolate, the sweetness and the slight bitterness getting the best of you as you drown—but voluntarily, because drowning was your intention.

"I love you, Atsumu," you say out of nowhere, cutting him off. He stops abruptly, his eyes growing wide and his mouth forming into a pout. His lips form into the brightest smile ever, as if the rays of a thousand suns meeting at one point. His boyish grin melts your heart, as he presses his lips to your forehead and says, "I love you more, darling. Now, take a breather, will ya?"

"Oh, and before I go. Don't disappoint me today, slug. I've been waiting to do this for the past eleven years."

i’m not crying. yes.

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miss-wanna-write · 2 years

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so ive posted a couple of fanfics already about this, but let me introduce you to my miraculous ladybug x persona au!

first things first, what ive already covered! so when they’re 7, Marinette, Nino, and Kim break away from the field-trip group and end up in Paris’s version of Mementos, and a shadow attack leads to Kim awakening Ardent, his persona.

after this, and numerous groundings, scoldings, and lectures from various parties, the trio then proves they learned NOTHING and continues to go exploring in the secret catacombs using the mysterious and kinda spooky app that appeared on their phones. this is how Marinette and Nino got Odette and Orpheus accordingly.

they don’t actually do much with these powers? it’s mainly just a cool make believe thing, with the occasional encounter with ‘living ghosts’ (the human shadows) that they talk to and help out. or have their persona’s (”we’re not calling them Stands, Kim!”) beat up if they get aggressive.

fast forward like 6 years to canon and the trio is freaking out. or, Nino is freaking out because Kim’s being targetted by a giant rock golem who used to be Ivan, Marinette’s not picking up, and the app they normally use to enter the Catacombs is updating.

the gist of this au, is that having a persona is a double edged sword. it allows normal people to fight akuma’s within the metaverse, and weaken the butterfly’s hold on the person, but also, if you have a persona your akuma is far more difficult to fight.

there’s a lot of stuff i haven’t really figured out, and some i haven’t concretely set up, but i do have all the initial persona’s for the crew! note, all persona’s were chosen from random sources, their only ‘theme’ being how they relate to the characters (even if it only makes sense to me)

Marinette Dupain-Cheng & Odette

Skills are focused on Ice & Healing. She’ll later gain Bless once her Ultimate is unlocked.

Odette is the protagonist of the ballet Swan Lake, and I felt the stories could line up. The curse of akumatization by the evil sorcerer Hawkmoth, Prince Adrien who the Black Swan Lila tries to steal away.

okay so this one may heavily depend on my persona headcanon that Lila seems to boast a lot of things that have been done by Marinette or are related to Marinette (knowingly or unknowingly) in canon.

Don’t worry about how Swan Lake so commonly ends in tragedy, I swear that’s not relevant.

Another skill Odette has is that she can be used to create a rudimentary shadow radar in a still patch of water. Yes Marinette’s clumsiness makes this difficult.

Nino Lahiffe & Orpheus

Orpheus has the element of Zio, plus some useful buff/status causing moves. He’s specifically built for long fights, with high defence, health, stall moves, and Dia. i do not remember why.

As for why Orpheus was chosen, I feel it an accurate representation about the lengths Nino would go for love, and lose because of it.

Okay so maybe it was partially inspired by the ultimatums I see in salt fics between him and Alya.

Kim Chiến Lê & Ardent

The Physical Force of the team. As in he uses both Physical attacks and Force/Wind attacks. That was a bad pun, sorry.

So Ardent is actually the Beast’s name from the 1947 version of Beauty and the Beast, which is probably well known to most of you. The fairy tale, not like, the 1947 version.

But, uhh, I mean the Beast was cursed by an enchantress due to his bad actions, and acts like a huge jerk, and, well, we’ve seen Kim and how he acts. Even in this AU, while I think he’d be less overtly mean, he’s still insensitive and makes wrong decisions that hurt people.

Alya Cesaire & Virgil

Fire and ailments are Virgil’s bread and butter. Yes that ailment is brainwash, gotta show she has the power of the press after all.

No this is not Virgil DMC (could you imagine), this is Virgil from Dante’s Inferno. tbh I kinda chose this based off reading the wikipedia page and lining up character roles and it’s really shakey and could probably be better, but I don’t know what else to use for her.

Alya joins after accidentally getting awakened during Lady Wifi by Nino and Kim defeating her shadow form. Funnily enough, I have a super solid idea of what Alya does in the story, how she’s introduced, and how she reacts to certain scenarios, yet absolutely 0 solid idea’s for her personas.

Virgil also has the ability to catalogue shadow weaknesses/profiles in his book, which takes the place of the notebook Mari, Nino, and Kim were using before.

Max Kante & Menvra

Max is the teams navigator and their guy in the chair, except he is also in the catacombs along them.

Obviosuly he wouldn’t be like Fuuka, inside an orb at the entrance of the dungeon, but I don’t think he’d be quite Futaba floating around in his persona. Somewhere inbetween, Rise and Futaba, I think.

Menvra is a Etruscan goddess, representing war, art, wisdom, and medicine/health. This is one of the more classic persona figures (they say, like Orpheus isn’t Nino’s) and yes, I am very shakey on this much like Alya’s. The difference is, Max is not a hugely developed character so I have limited traits to choose from as opposed to Alya where I have conflicting traits to choose from. I am, however, 100% sure of his Ultimate Persona.

I’m honestly debating whether Max joins up during Startrain, where the limited space causes him to accidentally get dragged into the Metaverse and subsequently awakened, or Robustus because the Metaverse app won’t run.

Kagami Tsurugi & Kaguya

I am, first and foremost, weak to girls with swords. And have once again (once again, they say, not having written the previous thing they are referencing) made Kagami just a. Powerhouse.

She’s got the Almighty skills, alongside Nuclear, and is a one woman army.

I really associated the themes of Kaguya attracting suitors, what with Kagami’s purpose basically just being a faux-love interest, and the punishment of material attachments. Listen, I will be the first to admit that a lot of these persona’s are just, I feel the vibes and they match. There is no rational or explainable reasoning for these, it just fits.

Also fun fact, the feather cloak Kaguya wears is burnt when she’s first summoned. Like, pre-burnt. This is story relevant.

Kagami herself joins the group after Ikari Gozen. Ladybug gives her an piece of paper in exchange for the Dragon Miraculous. Said paper has the meet up location and time fo the next Catacombs excursion.

#down in the catacombs #miraculous ladybug au #miraculous ladybug #au starter

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call-signvalkyrie · 4 years

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Ignite the Spark pt. 1

So I quit my shitty job today. Yay me! With the extra time I had today, I got a chance to finish the first chapter of a Poe Dameron series I’ve been working on. Let me know what you guys think!

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Summary: After years of undercover work for the Resistance, the daughter of Luke Skywalker has returned. Arriving on Ajan Kloss to a warm greeting from General Leia Organa, the Reader is given a gift and has their first meeting with everyone’s favorite pilot.

Pairings: Poe Dameron x Skywalker!Reader

Tags: talks of the Force, a few flashbacks, Poe being embarrassed lol

Word Count: around 3k

When your transport landed on Ajan Kloss, you weren’t sure you would be cut out for this. You’d spend so much time on backwater planets, filtering information to the resistance and doing your best to go unnoticed. You were so used to not interacting with anyone that the thought of being around so many people on a bustling base was a bit scary. All feelings of reservation were swept away, however, when the door of the transport opened to reveal the face of an older woman. Her hair was different since the last time you had seen her. Her face was aged from the many years of fighting the good fight for the rebellion. Her eyes, however, had not changed a day. They gleamed and twinkled in the dying twilight. Her smile made them sparkle even brighter as she reached out toward you.

“Aunt Leia,” you stepped off the transport and into her open arms. “It’s been too long.”

“Yes, it has. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I shouldn’t have kept you away.” She smiled lovingly, taking your face in both hands.

“I brought the data you asked for. I’ve got it all here.” You said, pulling a flash drive from your jacket pocket.

“That’s wonderful, Stardust.” You beamed with pride at the mention of your childhood nickname. “Lt. Connix, will you please take this data to the command center. Start running a detail immediately.”

“Yes, General.” Lt. Connix took the flash drive and was gone before you could blink.

“Beaux, see to it that Lt. Skywalker’s bags are placed in her quarters, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Beaux gave you a quick wave before stepping onto the transport and out of sight.

“Now, Y/N, I want to give you a quick tour before you settle in. I’m sure you’re exhausted but I want you to be as familiar as possible with everything on this base. This is your home now. No more field missions, I need you with me.” Leia smiled again, taking your arm and leading you toward the left wing of the base and toward the living quarters.

Home. Leia was the only thing you had left. Wherever she was, that’s where your home would be.

After showing you where your quarters would be located as well as the mess hall, med bay, and a quick tour of the Command Center, you were ready to get settled in for the night.

“Well, Y/N, if you need anything tonight, my quarters are right down the hall. You should have a data pad on your desk all charged and ready to go. It’ll have your clearance codes as well as any information you’ll need to know while on base. I’ll need you with me in the morning to debrief that data. It should be downloaded and ready so make sure to give it a look over before the morning.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You said, smiling softly at the older woman.

“Goodnight, Stardust.” Leia gave a quick wave before walking out the door.

Turning on your heal, you took a quick second to familiarize yourself with your new home. Being the niece of the general had its perks. Your quarters were small, yes but they were cozy. A small bookshelf and dresser were along the wall to your left, a double bed and desk and chair to your right. The data pad Leia had mentioned was right where she said it would be, all charged and ready to go from the looks of it. Straight ahead was your own private refresher. After unpacking your duffle of clothes, along with your rucksack containing a few personal mementos, you decided to take a quick shower before bed. You could wake up early and review that data for Leia. It wasn’t like you hadn’t spent the last 5 years gathering every piece of intel you could on the First Order.

Grabbing a fresh pair of underwear, a grey tank and a pair of sleep shorts from your dresser, you stepped into the refresher. Ten minutes later you were scrubbed clean and feeling surprisingly relaxed. It was amazing what a proper shower could do. Opening the door and stepping into your room, you turned to hang your towel on the desk chair when you spotted something you hadn't noticed earlier. On the desk were two boxes accompanied by an envelope. Scrawled across the front in a familiar script was the word “Stardust”. Opening the envelope, you began to read:

Y/N,

For far too long I have kept you in the dark and for that I will always be in your debt. Please accept these as tokens of my sincerest apologies. I hope at least one of these will help light your way. I understand if you’re conflicted but I have hope that one day you will be able to continue your training. Your fathers only wish in life was to see you follow his footsteps. Maybe we can fix that now.

All My Love,

Leia

Setting the letter to the side, you wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. Picking up the smaller of the two boxes, you opened it to reveal a small jewelry box. Lifting the lid, you gasped allowed. Nestled on a small black pillow was a beautifully woven silver chain. Placed ever so delicately in the middle of the pillow was a pendant. Pulling the chain from the box, you let it dangle in front of you in the soft light.

You never thought you would see this necklace again. Your father had given it to you when you left the Jedi temple to be with your aunt Leia all those years ago. When the temple fell and Kylo Ren rose to power, your necklace went missing in the night. That was almost 8 years ago now. Yet, here it was right in your hands like it was never gone. You ran the compass shaped pendant through your fingers, letting the wave of sadness and nostalgia run over you. On one side, a golden crescent moon surrounded by three silver stars embellished the surface. Turning it over, there was an engraving: Stardust.

You gingerly pulled the chain around your neck and adjusted it to size. That’s why you had always loved this necklace.

“It will grow with you, Stardust.”

Sniffling, you took a look at the other package. Thinking back to the note, you already knew what it was. How Leia had found it, you would never know but would be forever grateful. This box was longer, over a foot in length. The box was made of a soft wood that smelled faintly of burned embers. It had no exterior markings and no obvious way of exposing its contents. Slowly, you lowered the box to the floor. Taking a seat in front of it, closed your eyes. Reaching out with your mind, you felt it: The Force.

“The Force is all around you, Y/N. Reach out with your feelings and let it flow through you.”

“Okay, dad.”

“Ahem.”

“I mean: Yes, Master.”

The box gave no notice it had even opened. If some random onlooker happened to be watching, they would be none the wiser. You knew, however, the moment it happened. Lifting the lid, your breath caught in your throat. The inside of the box was lined with a soft, deep blue velvet pillow the color of the night sky. On top of the pillow, an emblem was stitched into the fabric. A shooting star wrapped in what looked like wings. Atop this pillow was a smooth cylindrical object, covered in beautiful ancient markings. It had a slightly curved handle for better grip for your smaller hands. You always favored nature and practicality over dominance and your build had reflected that.

“You must gather your crystals quickly, younglings. The cave is only open for so long. We don’t want any of you getting stuck in here.” You could hear his soft chuckle even now.

Picking up the silver object, you ignited the switch. Your room began to buzz with the soft whir of noise from the object in your hand. Ethereal, green light radiated from the source. You disengaged the ignitor, taking the smooth metal in both hands. How could it have survived? You looked everywhere after the temple was burned and never found it. Had Leia had it all this time and was just waiting for the right time to return it? Who had taken your lightsaber?

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by the sound of frantic beeping coming from the hallway. Quickly, you slid the blade back into the box. Tucking it away under your bunk, you scrambled to the door and hit the lock. The door opened with a soft shlick and you stepped into the hallway. Another round of agitated beeps could be heard coming down the hall followed by what sounded like combat boots. Coming around the corner was a small round droid, a BB Unit by the looks of him.

“BeeBee-Ate, I’m sorry! Buddy, our room’s not even this way, where are you going?” a male voice called after the little droid.

“What do you mean you're telling Leia?! It’s the middle of the night, pal. She’s most likely asleep.”

Leaning against the door to your quarters, you began to understand the little guy. He was angry because someone named Poe left him alone with the ship. AGAIN. And got captured and made him worry. AGAIN. You gave a slight chuckle as the little guy rolled by, angry beeps the whole way. Punching your code back into your door panel, you were just about to step back in when a voice called out to you. Stepping back into the hallway, you were greeted by a Resistance pilot. He was still wearing his bright orange flight suit. His thick, curly hair stuck up in odd directions from his helmet. He gave you a soft smile and waved.

“I’m sorry for all the noise, it's been a weird day.” The pilot smiled at you apologetically. “I hope my friend didn’t wake you.”

“No, I was awake.” You smiled back, taking a step out of your room and into the hallway. “Just checking to make sure everything was alright. The General, however, won't be too happy about being disturbed.” You nodded toward the little droid, now rolling his body into your aunts' door at full force.

“Gods, BB-Ate! It’s not that serious! I -” the pilots voice stopped in his throat as the shlick of the door BB-8 was throwing himself into slid open. The little droid went flying full force into the now open quarters of General Organa. You heard a loud clang followed by a series of confused beeps and whistles from the little droid.

“Dameron, you nerf herder! Get your droid out of my room right now or so help me not even the Force will be able to save you!” the General stepped out of her quarters and into the hallway, glairing toward the man to your right. You had to cover your face to hide the smile that was creeping onto it.

“General, I am so sorry.” a deep blush began to creep up the man's neck and onto his face. “I tried to get him to calm down but he just wouldn’t! He insisted - “

“I don’t care, Dameron. Get him out of here NOW. You’re obviously alright so whatever it is can wait until morning.” Leia said, placing one hand on her hip. You hadn’t seen Leia this irritated since you were a child. You were glad that look was fixed on someone else for once.

“Yes, ma’am.” The pilot said, lowering his eyes. “C’mon BB-8. It’s time for bed.” The little droid gave what you interpreted to be a light grumble but complied, rolling out to meet his master. Turning on his heal, the pilot gave you a light nod and started off in the direction he came from.

“Y/N! Ben! Get in here.”

“I told you not to take her lightsaber!” You whispered to your cousin, jabbing him in the ribs.

“She’s my mom. I can take whatever I want from her.” Ben smirked at you and you rolled your eyes.

“Whatever, Bantha-breath! I’m gonna tell her you said that!” You skipped off toward your aunt's voice, Ben chasing close behind you.

“Y/N, you okay?” A hand touched your arm, bringing you back to reality.

“Yeah, Aunt Leia, sorry. I think I’m just tired.” You yawned, covering your mouth lightly. “Hey, who was that guy?”

“Oh, that’s Poe. Poe Dameron. He’s a pilot, leader of Black Squadron.” Leia said, exasperation in her voice.

“Like, THE Poe Dameron? Wow.” You laughed lightly, shaking your head.

“He’s a good guy, just has his head in his cockpit most of the time instead of down on solid ground.” Leia said, shaking her head with a smile.

“No, it’s not that. I just thought he’d be taller.” You both smiled, enjoying the joke between the two of you.

“Well, between you and me, he really is the best pilot I’ve ever seen.” your aunt gave you a little wink before turning to go back into her own room.

“Even better than...” but you stopped yourself, letting the thought trail on.

“Almost. Maybe.” you could hear the smile in her answer as the door to her room shut behind her.

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #poe dameron x skywalker #star wars #reader insert #star wars fanfiction #fanfic

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murasaki-murasame · 4 years

Text

Thoughts on Higurashi Gou Ep13

Between this and Ciconia Phase 1, I’m starting to think that Ryukishi has some kind of personal grudge against Christmas, lol.

Thoughts under the cut.

Oh boy, where do I even begin with this one, lmao.

Basically as we all expected, this is where the arc veers off from the Minagoroshi storyline and barrels headfirst into it’s own original climax, but I don’t think anyone quite expected how it actually played out.

I’ve seen some people speculating that Ooishi might be responsible for some stuff in Gou, but I don’t think anyone expected him to apparently kill nearly all of Keiichi’s friends. Which actually reminds me a lot of how Minagoroshi ended with everyone thinking that they got a happy ending and then Takano shows up to kill everyone.

And on that note, this episode makes me even more confident in my guess that Takano’s a giant red herring in Gou, and that nothing’s actually going on with her. She and Tomitake did literally nothing in this entire arc except show up to support the protests at the CWS, and it looks like the final scene of this episode takes place long enough after the festival for the season to have changed from summer to autumn, with no reference to the GHD being made. So unless everyone [including Rena] is just refusing to tell him that it happened, it’s probably safe to assume that the GHD didn’t happen at all, which seems very important, since Tatarigoroshi is basically the only part in the VN where we really see the GHD happen in person, and that arc also had the most obvious hints that Takano was evil.

I know this isn’t 100% just a remake for new fans, but I still think it’s genuinely meant to be accessible for new fans, so at this point I just don’t think there’s been enough clues surrounding Takano to really allow for her to be the main villain again.

It might just be because the arc ends with the festival happening and then everything goes to shit, but they also didn’t say anything about what happened to Takano and Tomitake during/after the festival. Which from a meta perspective makes me think it means that they survived, at the very least.

I’m kinda hesitant to say that this is even the end of the question arcs, since the next arc is also a -damashi arc, but at least with three arcs finished, this is really making me think about what patterns we can see with what happens in each arc, and what plays out differently.

At this point it’s pretty obvious that the biggest common factor is that Keiichi survives each arc after sustaining fairly heavy injuries, and after he wakes up in the hospital we see other characters tell him what happened while he was unconscious. Satoko died in a mysterious double murder in the first two arcs, but since she apparently died as part of a larger massacre in this arc, I don’t know if there’s anything to read into with that. This arc also seems to break the pattern of Takano and Tomitake disappearing, like I said, unless we just didn’t get told about that.

I wasn’t sure how I felt about it at first, but at this point it seems extremely suspicious to me that every arc has ended with Keiichi being given second-hand information about stuff that he didn’t witness because he was unconscious. And since the people who talk to him in each arc are different [Mion in Onidamashi, Ooishi in Watadamashi, and Rena in Tataridamashi], I don’t think that they’re all just lying to him every single time.

I think I mentioned this whole theory of mine last week, but seeing this pattern continue really makes me think that, especially from the perspective of ‘what information is being given to the audience that even new fans can pick up on and theorize about?’, Keiichi himself is the actual common factor in it all, and I think everything makes a lot more sense if you assume that he was responsible for at least some of these mysterious murders.

This arc really heavily leaned into making Satoko suspicious, including how her big character moments from Minagoroshi apparently happened off-screen this time around, but after how this episode played out I’m more inclined to think that she’s a red herring. There’s also the fact that the whole Teppei scene was even more obviously a hallucination than the fight scene with Rena. It even looked like there were two entirely different types of blood splatter being shown on-screen, with one being the super intense, paint-like blood covering the entire wall like we saw in the Rena fight scene, and the more subdued and realistic-looking blood splatter that seems to happen over the top of the other one.

So what I think might have happened, is that maybe Satoko was innocent the entire time, and she really did just have her whole Minagoroshi moment off-screen, and nothing weird or different happened there. Then, at the festival, she really did want to thank Keiichi for helping her, and genuinely wanted to give him a gift, but then things go to hell in a very Onikakushi-style way, because Satoko had rigged a trap in her house to dump some random objects on Keiichi’s head when he pulled the light switch. Keiichi got hit in the head with some random heavy object, and then when he turns around he sees Satoko holding a baseball bat. Which is actually just Satoshi’s bat, which she genuinely just wants to give to Keiichi as a gift because it was a memento of Satoshi’s, but he immediately assumes that she hit him with it and that it was all a set-up to murder him, and he basically goes L5 and completely loses his shit. Teppei’s entire presence there was almost certainly a hallucination, so it might have just been his way of trying to rationalize the apparent image of Satoko attacking him with a baseball bat, and his way of justifying attacking her, by acting like it was Teppei instead.

I at least think it’s important that we see Satoko talk about how she wants to give Keiichi a gift that used to belong to Satoshi, which is obviously meant to be his baseball bat. So the idea of her bringing it into the room with her, and Keiichi seeing it and assuming the worst, seems pretty plausible.

After that, I think what happened is that Keiichi then basically took the bat and went back to the festival and went on a rampage. I think the whole Ooishi thing is a red herring, and that Rena’s account of the situation was deliberately misleading to make us think that it was him who killed everyone, but in reality him pulling out his gun might have been unrelated. So maybe it was Keiichi who killed Shion, Mion, and Rika instead, and Ooishi pulled out his gun in self-defense.

There’s also the fact that if we assume the whole Teppei thing was a hallucination, then Keiichi probably didn’t actually sustain that many injuries in the first place, but several weeks later after he wakes up in the hospital he apparently has severe headaches, and bandages around his head. Which makes me think that instead of getting lots of beats to the head from Teppei, what actually happened was that Ooishi shot Keiichi in the head to stop his rampage, and Keiichi just miraculously survived, but with memory loss and headaches from the gunshot wound.

I can at least buy the idea that Rena might have intentionally avoided talking about Keiichi’s role in it in order to avoid hurting him, but I get the feeling that even if it played out that way, she might have straight up forced herself to forget it in order to cope.

I’m not entirely sure what motive Keiichi would have to go back to the festival and attack his friends after killing Satoko, but I also don’t know what motive Ooishi would have had to kill them either, lol. For both of them you basically just have to go ‘they probably went crazy and started killing people’. But there’s at least a lot more support for the idea of Keiichi being the one to go crazy like that.

I might have mentioned this last week, but I also kinda think that Keiichi’s secretly a lot more paranoid about what’s going on than he’s been letting on. We haven’t really seen any of his actual thoughts in Gou yet, and he’s probably trying to avoid thinking about a lot of this, but I think in each arc there’s been paranoia brewing under the surface that ends up exploding in one big display of violence that we don’t get to see, and which Keiichi doesn’t fully remember.

In Onidamashi, I think when Rena attacked him it made him assume that all of his fears about her were correct, and also that Rika was probably trying to get him murdered by telling him to trust her.

Then in Watadamashi, I think he might have snapped at the festival and killed Takano and Tomitake because of his paranoia about being strung along into breaking into the Saiguden and hearing about Hinamizawa’s history, and I think the whole Rika-acting-like-Bern scene made him think that she’d caught onto what he did and was going to arrange to get him murdered as punishment.

And now in Tataridamashi, I think that after witnessing first hand just how much influence the village has, seeing that [probably fake] hallucination of Teppei lead him down the path of assuming that it must mean that the entire thing was a giant ruse by the village elders, the government, and the police. Which might be specifically why Shion, Mion, and Rika got killed. I think Satoko was just him thinking he was attacking Teppei, but I think he might have killed those three because they’re part of the three big families, so he might have assumed that they were ‘in on it’ from the start. Which would also explain why Rena was left apparently unharmed, since she has nothing to do with them. It’s also worth noting that in Tataridamashi his only interactions with Takano and Tomitake just involve them showing up to support the CWS protests, but in Watadamashi we saw pretty clearly how freaked out he got from the whole Saiguden incident because of what they did. I’m also still suspicious of how in Onidamashi he goes to talk to them at the festival but then randomly decides not to.

Funnily enough this would also give a good reason for how Gou seems to be avoiding having Keiichi succumb to paranoia, and it’d also give a good justification for how unlike in the VN we don’t get any of his internal narration or anything to understand what he’s thinking. On the one hand it’s just a limitation of the medium, but I could see Ryukishi using it as a way to deceive us by having Keiichi be going through paranoia in a way that’s mostly internal and kept secret from the audience, instead of it being something that we’re shown every moment of like in the VN.

But I think it’s also important that we do still get glimpses of his paranoia in each arc. He gets genuinely scared of Rena in Onidamashi and was on the brink of not opening the door for her even with Rika’s advice. He freaks out in the Saiguden in Watadamashi even more than he does in the VN, and then gets paranoid about hearing Shion and Ooishi question him about what he did at the festival, and then when Rika vents at him he looks seriously freaked out by her. This arc’s more subtle about it, but there’s been a few moments where he seems to be weirded out by Rika’s entire attitude where she keeps talking about fate, and I think at the festival he was probably paranoid about what might happen for similar reasons to everyone watching the scene unfold.

I might be totally wrong about all of this, but it’d be really neat if Gou has actually been exploiting certain elements of the anime format, and the things we take for granted about it, to deceive us about the mystery in each arc.

Of course, the big question with this whole theory is that, well . . . what’s the endgame of it all? If the answer to each arc is just ‘Keiichi keeps succumbing to paranoia and killing people in ways that Rika doesn’t predict’, then what’s going on in the background? Who’s the mastermind? What does Rika need to do to win this game and achieve a happy ending?

It might be an underwhelming answer for most people if this is how they play it, but I think that the big reveal in Gou might just be that there ISN’T anything going on in the background. At least not in the sense of ‘there’s literally a government conspiracy surrounding a supernatural virus that people want to use as a biological weapon’. I think this might just be a version of Higurashi where it really does just all boil down to paranoia-induced murder. And part of the whole meta-mystery might just be that we’re all trying to look for ‘the actual answer’ while glossing over what’s going on right in front of our eyes with Keiichi in each arc. So the route to a happy ending might mostly just involve Rika figuring this out and realizing that Keiichi has his own issues that need to be addressed before his pent-up paranoia explodes and gets people killed. She should at least know that he’s capable of killing people like in Onikakushi, but at the very least in Gou it feels like she’s just been focusing on everyone else and assuming that everything’s fine and good with him.

I think this would also make it a lot easier for them to actually wrap up Gou’s whole story with just 11 more episodes if we don’t get a second season, since it’d mean that there isn’t a whole extra layer to the story that we need to spend time on.

Anyway this is just a very elaborate way of me saying that Keiichi is super sus, lol.

All that aside, we also found out at the end that the next arc will be called Nekodamashi, which is interesting. It might be a coincidence, but it sounds like it might be based on the Nekogoroshi OVA episode from the original anime. I haven’t seen that, but I’ve heard that it mainly exists just to foreshadow the Yamainu’s existence. Which is interesting since at this point I’m like 99% convinced that they don’t actually exist in Gou, and that it’s just been Keiichi getting paranoid about random construction workers doing normal stuff.

Either way I think it might focus on Rika’s perspective on things, and show how she begins trying to figure out what exactly is going on this time around, and what she needs to go to solve it all. The name of the arc at least sounds like it’s about how Rika, aka the cat, is getting deceived about the mystery of Gou.

It also sounds like we’re getting new OP and ED themes for the second half, along with the leaked subtitle change, so that’s cool. It also implies that Featherine and teenage Satoko in this OP really were just setting up for future plot points and didn’t necessarily imply that they’d show up in the first half.

The fact that they show up in the OP is one reason why I think there’s probably still SOME kind of bigger picture mystery going on beyond just Keiichi killing people sometimes, but I think it’ll at least just replace all the stuff with Takano and the Yamainu.

I still think Featherine’s the one making this whole gameboard in the first place, but I’m not sure about teenage Satoko, especially after this episode made me more inclined to think that Satoko isn’t some kind of evil mastermind or anything this time around.

There’s also the whole deal with the sword, and I still have absolutely no idea how THAT might pan out, but I don’t think anyone does, lol.

Also, I’m still hoping that they make time before this ends to go into Shion’s whole backstory arc from Meakashi, since it’d suck if that got cut out, but we’ll see how it goes.

#murasaki rambles #higurashi #higurashi gou

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facesofthefog · 4 years

Text

@shrouded-jed [TW: Torture, blood, degradation]

The small apartment was coated in silence except for the faint sound of ripping paper. Even without such an obvious clue, Olsen would have been able to realise something was wrong the moment he stepped into his home. Everything appeared to be in its rightful place, but the energy was different. It pulled him towards his bedroom, not letting him stay off course as if for just those few steps he was turned into a puppet. Once he opened the bedroom door, he was greeted with two out of place sights. One, being the black-haired male sitting in the apartment owner's chair with his legs stretched out onto the bed, and the other being his prized possessions torn or broken scattered on the floor like disposed bodies of survivors after an unsuccessful trial against the Ghostface. A suiting comparison considering how both were a sacrifice to the Entity who blessed the killer with his presence.

The Entity was busy holding onto a scrapbook dedicated to their lovely Sammy and taking in all the sights with great interest. He was so lost in observing the images, that it might have looked as if he did not notice Jed's return, yet he was fully aware of his presence and did not even have to look away from the object to know what sort of expression the other wore behind his mask.

"You must excuse the mess, I did not expect you so soon" he lied in a joking manner, a laugh at the end of the sentence. "Please, make yourself comfortable."

Whilst he spoke the last few words, he stood up from his seat and closed the scrapbook keeping it in one hand. He knew the ghost would not have stayed still without some help, but looking towards the man he was pleased to see the killer's own strands of black fabric, his connection with the Entity, working against him, keeping him nicely in place. Only once the man was wrapped up in the lovely "ribbons" did the assailant decide it safe to approach. With his human body not regenerating as quickly as he would prefer, he did not want to risk getting stabbed. Not when he was the one that was supposed to do the stabbing instead.

The book was placed on the table with great care as if not to damage even the cover and the Entity walked over to his killer, setting the chair by his side. Sitting the man down was not as easy as gagging him with the red ribbons, but it was something he succeeded in regardless. A lovely view indeed, the dominating being mused whilst he stepped back to take in the sight of his work. Only then did he remember that the true beauty hid beneath the mask - the possibly hateful glare covered by an eternal scream. That too was dealt with quickly, the hood pulled down to make removing of the mask easier.

"Ah, so beautiful my little one." A wide grin on his face spoke of true pleasure. His soft, cold fingers brushed against the man's cheek and just for a few seconds it was as if the Entity was lost in thoughts. "I know, I know. This was rather childish of me, but you see, if you touch and break my toys…" he glanced back towards the room to observe the shattered cameras and ripped articles that were previously so carefully stored in the draws or on display. "I will touch and break yours. And then I will do the same to you."

The energy shifted, the Entity being no longer amused. His black and gold eyes glistened with dark intent and spoke of rage that was yet to be released. A knife appeared in his hand and he brought the blade to the killer's face, pressing the blade into his cheek almost cutting the skin.

"You made a mistake with that one photo, my dear. Sammy is mine. Not Franks and most definitely not yours. I know how to share my toys, but I cannot stand a spoiled brat who wants to take everything for himself."

The blade was moved away from the skin and the Entity grabbed a fist full of Jed's hair to keep him in place. A threat was offered, move and your pretty face will not stay pretty for long, and then he began cutting into it. Letter after letter, two on his left cheek and two on his right. A perfect "LI" and "AR" decorating his face for as long as the Entity would want it to remain. Of course, Jed could have killed himself to make the regeneration progress quicker, but the killer’s owner doubted that the man would be capable of such an action. Then again, it would probably depend on which would hurt his ego more - dying or walking around with the newest addition to his lovely face.

"Now don't move, I will show you what I did in just a second." It was not as if the man could escape, but he preferred to give a warning regardless. He let go of the other's hair and used his now free hand to search the killer for the last of his cameras. The Entity knew that he always had one with him, documenting his kills and his tortures. Amusingly, the killer possibly never expected that he would become a model for the newest photoshoot.

"Smile" he ordered with a grin of his own. The flash brightened the room and blinded the killer for just enough time to develop the newest photo. Samuel took it in his hand and looked at it with a satisfied expression. Then he turned it over in his palm and showed it to Jed. "You should have smiled. It would have made you so much prettier."

A thought passed through his head, cut the smile into his face, but it faded just as quickly, as it appeared. What he already had on his face would be enough and there was more space on Jed's body to break skin in patterns. Carefully he set the camera to the side, leaving the photo on the floor so that his little pet could have a perfect view of it. The blade returned for more cutting, this time opening material instead of flesh, revealing the killer's bare chest.

"What should I do now, my darling? A word? Some cuts? Which would you prefer?" It was obvious that he would not get a proper answer from the gagged victim, but it was not like he cared about the male's opinion. He pushed the tip of the blade just below the collar bone and lazily cut the word "FAKE". Letters the length of half an index finger were supposed to be visible whenever Jed would look into a mirror. The Entity wondered if his pet loved to spend time in front of the mirror. If he did, he would stop doing so once they finished their little play session.

WEAK

FOOL

JOKE

BRAT

Four new words appeared on his torso accompanied by random cuts, some deep enough to stick a tip of the finger into them. Every so often the camera flash would return, and new photos embellished the floor documenting each new addition to the killer's body. This made the process longer. Cut, pick up the camera, take a picture, retake the picture if it was not good enough, return the camera to the bed and continue slicing. Sometimes the Entity would stick his finger into the wound, dig around, drench himself in the thrilling screams. Sometimes he would just stand and admire his work. Give the killer a few seconds to rest and return to the torture to make sure that the ghost did not get used to the constant pain.

"Who should I give them to?" He asked as he took another photo. "Frank? Sammy? All of the survivors?" Click, a new photo dropped to the floor, the Entity no longer caring about holding onto them or placing them down neatly. "Oh, I know. Why don't I make a whole article about our little play session? You would love that, wouldn't you? And it would also replace all the ruined articles. You could become a star once more."

The blade came close to the killer for the last time and the Entity wiped the blood off from it on the other's clothes. The ruling being was now much calmer, his bloodthirst quenched for the time being. The knife disappeared in a small cloud of fog and gold allowing Samuel to grab hold of Olsen's chin for the final photo. "This one will be a personal memento for me to cherish."

The newest print was then carefully folded in half and slipped into the pocket of the black trousers for later. No longer having any need for the camera at hand, he allowed his fingers to grow into claws and crush the brittle object with ease, letting the broken parts crumble to the floor and join the other of its kin.

"I know, she is rather addicting. No wonder you just can't help yourself and want our little Sammy all to yourself. But you should learn to share." He took a deeper breath as if the whole situation was tiring, as if he was the one that just faced an exhausting task. The ghost mask returned to his hand and he watched the white screaming face considering something that Jed could not have been ready for. "But I can be kind. I will permit your play sessions. I will let you do to her as you please, as long as you don't kill her out of trials. Instead, you will repent."

The mask in hand began to melt as if exposed to a high temperature. Drops of white and black stained the floor and any paper that stood in its way. He did not inform the killer that all of his other masks were destroyed too. He would learn in his own time and find out that his punishment revolved around having to take part in trials without his mask or memento moris available. There would be more trials too and only based on their results would he either heal up and have his items returned in normal shape or be left with scars and deprived of all that he held important.

"I will keep this too, for now." He stated as he took the scrapbook dedicated to Sammy. "Should you behave yourself, you will be allowed to retrieve it. You will know when the time comes. For now, behave yourself."

He walked over to the man and gave a pat to his shoulder. With that, the strands of fabric eased their hold and by the time the killer was released, the Entity was no longer in his proximity returning to his personal realm to focus on reading the notes the other formed on their favourite survivor. Jed was left with wounds and photos to remind him of their nice time together.

#shrouded-jed #tw: blood #tw: torture #tw: degradation #one-shot #entity event

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