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bxttenbound-archive · 3 years

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Weird no my little anon is a message for you mun, you turned someone who could be redeemed into a snobby pompous ass. Much like duke in fact how you portray her is much like duke , arrogant pompous and pretty much thinking she’s untouchable, like she’s little miss perfect . I’ve watched the series and I felt her pain even as she became a shadow of her former self, however seeing you portray this side of her makes me sick. No redeeming qualities at all , mark my words one day someone is gonna put you and your muse in their place.

Last thing your muse is not a vampire she just a fucking thrall , she wasn’t born a vampire all she did was take the cane . A cane which imbued her , her powers and vampirism go away when she loses the cane , like a drug addiction she can’t stop using it as well her hatred towards duke. Before you write a response to this look through your tumblr messages , and tell me you didn’t portray your muse as stuck up or pompous .

My dude, you understand Missi is *not supposed to be a good person*

While I normally do not spoil things that Daria has said on her Patreon, Missi and Duke are supposed to be *equally bad people* as Daria has stated. Neither of them is supposed to be a “good guy” in any of this. Like life, it isn’t that simple.

I play Missi as someone who is confident in her skills because she knows exactly how powerful she truly is. Without pulling any punches Missi should technically be much more powerful than Duke and in my opinion she shouldn’t have “lost” her Showdown. Losing her eye was something of a spur of the moment and we have seen that Missi can do great acts of magic (such as giving life to inanimate objects, and resurrecting the dead) which if she thought to take someone like Duke, whom she already had killed once, seriously she could have ended it before it started. It makes sense she would be blinded by her confidence and not take Duke seriously because she already has beaten him before and he has, in her opinion, no chance of beating her. Losing her eye was a reminder of how she can’t let her guard down to any threat, no matter how insignificant it may be.

Missi has a right to be arrogant and full of herself because she went from a helpless victim to a powerful vampire who has studied and learned magic to improve her life and get revenge on the man who hurt her.

And here’s also a hint:

She has nothing she needs to redeem herself for.

Has she gone overboard with her revenge on Duke? Of course, who wouldn’t want to go to such extents when they had been traumatized by what he had done. If you could look your abuser in the eye, kill him, take all of his riches, and then bring him back only to watch him suffer a miserable life all because of you, wouldn’t you? Many people who cannot cope with what have happened to them lash out in Anger. Missi is still in that stage where while confident in her skills she is blinded by anger for what Duke had done to her.

In-Canon she has literally done nothing but kill a vampire, and resurrect him. I may go overboard with how ‘evil’ she has become because I can see Missi being completely consumed by her rage and trauma she pushed herself further and further away from Humanity due to her own mental instability. Even in my change to the canon, Missi is still very much “redeemable” if you want to put it like that, but she isn’t going to bend her will so easily and change her course because of a few pretty words or a kiss on the cheek. If someone, or a muse, wants to help try and steer her away from her current path they very much could but it will take a lot of effort and I’m not going to make it easy due to just how traumatized she has become and how much she has gone through to get where she is now.

Duke is full of himself because he is narcissistic, Missi is full of herself because she actually has skills and had done great feats many other humans couldn’t do.

As for her being a vampire, I know IN CANON she is not technically a full vampire but here’s another fun fact: She very well could be. Duke himself wasn’t “born a vampire” and you do not need to be “born a vampire” to become one. If you knew anything about vampires, they can be created by magic although it is not a traditional way of doing so, it is very possible. My interpretation of the character is that during The Silent, she had completely, and willingly, threw away her humanity because she was so dead-set on making her abuser suffer. Emotions will not always cause people to act rationally and I can see someone who is as mentally unstable as Missi succumbing to completely allowing the magic to permanently corrupt her soul and body so she will never have to be reminded of the weak human self she used to be and no one will be able to take advantage of her again. It is an unhealthy coping mechanism for sure, but I am not going to make it kiddy-friendly and say she can go back to normal now after everything that’s happened.

Missi made her choice, and now she has to permanently live with the consequences. If anything her becoming a vampire truly does doom her in some aspects and make her have *real consequences* to the actions. I find it, a bit stupid to think that she can just leave whenever she wants to like everything she had gone through didn’t have a lasting impact on her.

I do still show how much Duke has impacted her, and how much she still suffers through the choices she made. I do not let her get off scot-free for everything she has done and I don’t expect her to be given special treatment from other muses when she acts the way she does.

If you actually looked at my blog and understood characters and what she has gone through it makes sense as to why she would act the way she does. Missi has conqured her abuser She learned magic beyond what a normal human could She has mastered the art of basic magic and advanced Necromancy

And if you need further convincing, in canon she mastered these things WITHIN MONTHS. I personally do not believe a human could learn such advanced magic within the span of a few months which is why I say it took her a few years to do so especially since she had no prior knowledge of Satanic magic and such things.

My views and how I play Missi are my interpretations. If you wish to make your own version of an 18 year old child who is a basic sob-story victim be my guest but Missi will not allow her abuse to control her life and make her submissive to anyone. She will continue to be the badass vampire who is confident in herself regardless because she knows she can be better and has proven to be better than the person who had started this whole mess.

#Anonymous #Out for a Bite // OOC #Screams from the Abyss // MT #Anon Hate TW #Abuse TW #Long Post

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mandoalorian · 4 years

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What the Pedro boys are like at college

This is my first time doing one of these so please be nice! Yep, TUWOMT isn’t out yet but I have read the script and I have written for Javi Gutierrez here. If you don’t want spoilers, maybe don’t read his scenario. I’ve made it so Javi’s is the last one so you can skip over it easily. I write for all the main Pedro characters! These include:

· Din Djarin – The Mandalorian

· Javier Pena – Narcos

· Frankie Morales – Triple Frontier

· Maxwell Lord – Wonder Woman 1984

· Jack Daniels: Kingsman: The Golden Circle

· Oberyn Martell: Game of Thrones

· Dave York: The Equalizer 2

· Pero Tovar – The Great Wall

· Ezra Prospect – Prospect

· Marcus Pike – The Mentalist

· Max Phillips – Bloodsucking Bastards

· Dio – NYPD Blue

· Javi Gutierrez – The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent

· I DO NOT WRITE FOR PEDRO PASCAL.

Please please request a ‘Pedro boy’ scenario HERE. You can also request for me to write a one shot HERE.

Masterlist

Enjoy!

***

Din Djarin: Does college exist in Star Wars? I’m not sure… but if we take a moment to imagine Din being schooled by the Mandalorian Creed. He learns the history of Mandalore, about the great leaders such as Satine Kryze. He learns the importance of ‘the way’ and studies the art of weaponary, learning how to use guns, detonators, vambrace, and whistling birds. He learns about the legacy of the darksaber and, as we already know, he trains with the Rising Phoenix. I imagine Din likes to keep himself to himself and has been a loner his whole life. He places his trust in his fellow Mandalorian’s but they are not his friends. They are simply just his allies. Being schooled in the Mandalorian Creed would be physically exhausting but it’s something Din can manage. After all, he doesn’t have a choice. This is the way.

Javier Pena: We know Javi always wanted to leave Texas, and I think college was the perfect time for him to venture out. He didn’t choose a school with a pristine academic reputation, but instead, he picked a school that had the best renowned night life so he could go out and enjoy drinking and partying. Javi wasn’t a complete wild card. He was the kid who seemed to be good at almost everything. He was able to graduate top of his class with honours in Criminal Law.

Frankie Morales: When Frankie was younger, he loved helping his dad work on the family car and he even scored a part-time job at a garage when he finished high school. At high school, he never really found interest in the core subjects like English, math, science, history… and so when it was time for college, he wanted to develop on his hobby. Frankie chose to major in engineering, with a minor in transportation and logistics. This was perfect for him. In his second year, he went from looking at cars and motorcycles, to different forms of aircraft. He remembers one morning, he sat in the pilot seat of a helicopter after the fuel compressor had went bust and he had never felt more at home. On a whim, he dropped out of college and was lucky enough to get a place in piloting school. Frankie stuck by Santiago throughout college, but while Santi went out and partied, Frankie would slump down in his chair, drink a few beers, and be ready to head back to his dorm at 9pm. He had a few flings in college but had no interest in pursuing an actual relationship. It was important to him that he used his time in college to discover what he really wanted to do with his life.

Maxwell Lord: He probably went to Cornell, or Harvard. Maxwell could’ve gotten in from his family name alone, and if he wasn’t the most academically bright, no doubt his mother would’ve paid him into college, but Maxwell had always been smart. He was home schooled his whole life and so college was a big change for him. He worked hard. He showed up to every class early, and handed in homework and dissertations early, and used his charm to schmooze with the teachers, doing all he could to make sure he got the best grades. Maxwell majored in Business and Economics, and minored in Marketing. He didn’t have much choice in what he studied in college because he had his life set out for him the moment he was born. Maxwell didn’t have friends, but that’s not to say he was a loner. Everyone on campus knew who Maxwell was, and everyone knew the kind of family he came from.

Jack Daniels: Despite Jack and his high school sweetheart going their separate ways for college, they couldn’t stay away from each other for long. He was a Political Science major but never really cared much for it. He had a lot of friends, was a care free spirit and attended parties. He is someone who has natural academic ability but his failure to attend class and do homework meant that he, inevitably, began to drag behind. Realising political science isn’t for him, he dropped out of college and moved in with his high school sweetheart. He much preferred it that way, and he was able to be with her all the time. Having his company meant that she was now distracted from her studies and when she fell pregnant with their first child, they decided to run away from college all together and start a family far away.

Oberyn Martell: Is there college in Game of Thrones? I’m not sure, but a modern! Oberyn would major in classical studies and minor in philosophy. He is a prince, after all. He excels in both subjects and picks up languages such as Latin and Greek easily. It comes natural to him. He passes with flying colours and never has to try too hard because the words of Aristotle and Plato were engrained into his brain ever since he was old enough to read a book. As prince, he knows it is important to graduate with honours and that it’s his priority but that doesn’t mean he can’t make time for fun. He doesn’t commit to any relationship during college but does embrace his sexuality. He’s kind, gentle, and respectful. He’s a really great lover, but an even better friend.

Dave York: Dave studied criminology and forensic science at college. He was able to learn the ins and outs of criminal psychology and the process that cops and forensic teams go through when trying to trace a murder. His knowledge in this subject sure helped him in later life. He passed with flying colours, but never wanted a career in crime – or at least, not a career you’d need a degree in. But his newly received qualification, Dave decided to join the CIA as an operative where he met Robert McCall. He played good guy for a long time, but his bad intentions linked to criminal activity traced all the way back to college. He met his wife in college, and truthfully, she was the only thing who kept him from spiralling into criminal activity at an earlier stage.

Pero Tovar: Again, I am almost certain college didn’t exist during this time period but if we make it a modern AU, I think Pero would have majored in geography and minored in cultural studies. He had a goal to travel the world and see all the magnificent places. Pero was a grumpy adolescent, and seemingly he never really grew out of it. He had a group of people he hung out with who were similar to him but he never really considered them friends. He didn’t partake in extracurricular activities and he would just focus on studying. But he did have a flare in art which was lost on him during later life. He used painting as an emotional outlet and a means to express his feelings.

Ezra Prospect: I guess this is a modern! Ezra then. He studies geology, and he’s really smart. He does a lot of reading, but he actually prefers non-fiction over fiction. His interest in geology goes past his degree, and he actually collects a variety of rocks and gemstones, going into deep research about them and believing that certain ones possess healing powers. Ezra has a partner throughout his time in college, and they spend a lot of time with each other. Ezra’s partner encourages Ezra’s love for geology and finds his passion endearing, even encouraging him to earn an income from his knowledge! You help Ezra use the rocks that he collects to create bath salts and make jewellery to sell on and earn profit.

Marcus Pike: Marcus was an art and design major, and all his teacher’s loved him. He was never the best at the practical side, but he excelled in art history and his knowledge on the subject was outstanding. Marcus had one long term relationship during college but his partner ended up breaking his heart. It took a long time for Marcus to recover, but he’d always been one for second chances. He’d hope that he’d never get his heart broken again.

Max Phillips: Max was a bit of a player in community college; a jock, who studied his undergraduate in Physical Education. When Evan had Max kicked out for sleeping with his girlfriend, Max went and studied Sales Management at a university just for Vampires. Filled with a feeling of wrath and hatred for Evan, Max made it his mission to ruin him. No more time could be spent partying in his fraternity, playing soccer for the college team and sleeping with the cheer leader’s – Max made it his goal to graduate from Vampire University with a top major and steal the job of leading Sales Manager from Evan. And that’s on holding grudges.

Dio: Yeah, Dio didn’t go to college. He dropped out of high school when he was fourteen. In his youth, his hobbies included making fire and stealing from the rich.

Javi Gutierrez: He’s a film major of course! He was born into a rich family, we know that, and comes from a very financially privileged background. His parents knew that he did not have to pursue a degree in something that would ensure him a job, because Javi would be well off no matter what, and so they were fine with Javi doing something he was truly interested in. Javi has loved literature, art and movies his whole life. He minors in screenplay writing and excels top of his class, constantly impressing those around him with his ability to memorise anything from one liner quotes to whole scenes from movies. He shares his extensive knowledge of trivia, and all his lecturer’s firmly believe that the film industry is something that Javi could one day potentially succeed in. However, Javi is awkward. He shy’s away from all the partying and spends Friday night’s in his dorm, munching on popcorn and watching classic movies. A relationship is never in question for Javi because of his family circumstances, so he just lays low and focuses on his studies. As soon as he graduates, he heads back home to Mexico and his dreams of being a famous Hollywood screenplay writer seem so distant.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #din djarin #frankie morales #javier pena #agent whiskey #maxwell lord #ezra prospect #javi gutierrez #pedro boys

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maddiicake · 4 years

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Why Both FMAB and FMA03 are good and should be treated as Independent Stories:

I will go on the record of saying that Appreciate and Love FMA as a whole and love both series for what they are. And while it may sound like a broken record saying things like this... there’s still hateful words against those who like one over the other. So, I’m here to make this post addressing that both FMA2003/03 and Brotherhood are great in their own way and should be respected as their own individual stories.

Also warning there will be obvious spoilers.

What I liked about the Original (FMA03/2003) Series:

I watched 03 before delving into Brotherhood, and even before reading the manga. Now, I know Brotherhood and Manga fans are the small minority of the fandom, while 03/2003 fans make up the majority. That being said, many of these people simply can't get used to 03 after watching Brotherhood.

However, for me, I was happy because: A) I got more FMA to watch, and B) The differences in 03/2003 simply made it even more fun to watch, so for it was no trouble getting used to this anime.

But if I were to be specific of what I liked, I’d say I liked the following about FMA03/2003:

Characterization of the Protagonists and all the 'good' guys: The show heavily focuses on the relationship and tragedy of Elric Brothers, and 03/2003 portrays it much better with such a deeper level. The relationship between both brothers is intimate, and it feels like a genuine sibling bond. I also enjoy the fact that the anime shows that even if Ed follows his ideals, he, like any human, can break away from them under severe pressure, which was beautifully shown in the 5th laboratory arc. As for other characters: Scar in this version is a total opposite of his Brotherhood counterpart. He is written realistically in the 2003/03 anime. His absolute hatred for the military is more legit, and he feels morally grey in this anime. Izumi Curtis for me was also portrayed better in this version. Meanwhile, other Characters like Roy, Winry and Alex felt the same to me throughout both versions--so, not much change there.

Worldbuilding: The 2003/03 anime does a fantastic job at portraying the widespread effects of war and politics, Alchemy, etc. and how it has affected the people of the FMA World. For example, in Episode 16, “That Which is Lost”, Ed meet, a guy who had lost his limb while working as a soldier and was reluctant to use an automail prostetic because he wanted to “retain his wound”. Now, this episode itself was more so filler and didn’t really matter to the main plot of the story in itself; however, I feel that it was added to series to portray the depth of the FMA World, and how everyone has different reactions to the events that happened in the 2003/03 anime. Also, many of the events and how they unfold in this anime seem to parallel the middle east, which just makes all this feel realistic and provides some occasional social commentary which is quite nice. I also like how the first few episodes take their time to slowly and, with great subtlety, develop their world.

Thematic Depth: FMA2003/03 is dark, grim and kind of realistic--more so compared to Brotherhood. While, both versions of the anime deal with some important and mature themes, FMA2003/03 takes it to the next level. The 2003/03 series focuses on the Law of Equivalent Exchange, and shows how putting blind trust in it is a terrible thing to do. The show also focuses on how obsession, a denial of reality, and the inability to move on can be a bad thing. Moreover, sometimes life just simply isn't fair, and we should accept it; however, always try to improve what we have. All in all, we have to understand the consequences of our actions. That life is uncertain, and sometimes we don't get everything, and even we pay a price for it. All of these themes mixed in with the meaningful dialogues and the dark tone, made me appreciate this anime. For example, in episode 48, when Roy and Ed talk for the last time, that’s the pivotal point that brings all these themes together.

A Good Start: The Show had a better start than Brotherhood, simply because 1). We have more time with Maes Hughes and Shou Tucker, and 2). The Liore arc. Despite BONES studio and it’s tendency to create anime too early *when the mangaka is barely halfway through their series), they made it work, and, with the material they had, the 2003/03 series was given enough time to bloom. The 2003/03 series was simply immersive and very emotional, especially during The Curtis Arc, as an example.

Soundtrack and The Art Direction: I feel like both are equally good. However, I will go on the record of saying that I don’t think “art style” is what makes a series, nor is it an important factor. It’s nothing more than glorified “eye candy” However, for the sake of argument (especially since the “art style” is the first thing that “03 Stans” mention) I’ll be adding it in here. Both the 2003/03 and Brotherhood series have some amazing and beautiful orchestral OSTs in their respective soundtracks; thus, it added to the immersion of their respective series. In FMA2003/03, the color palette is very unique, sometimes it feels dull but it just suits the dark tone of the series.

All in all, I am impressed by a lot of aspects of the 2003/03 anime series, but as much I love and respect it, there are lot of things this anime messed up and I will note that as well.

The antagonists were... Meh: While I really love and enjoy the direction and depth BONES Studio added to the Homunculi... some of the other antagonists could have been better (or just not added at all imo). For example, Frank Archer... he has no reason being there except for convenient plot device to the point it feels forced. Though, him becoming that weird cyborg always makes me laugh just because of how dumb of a character he became because of it. Speaking of which, him becoming a cyborg was just... weird. It was like the Studio staff were trying to make him “cool” by making him into some crossover of The Terminator and Two-Face from Batman, but it just failed. As for Zolf Kimblee... He is still sadistic and likes making things explode, much like his Brotherhood Counterpart. But... that was it. Other than that, he was just boring. Him and Archer were both just the staple 90s Kids Cartoon Villains; not much to them except “Muahahaha I’m evil”. Now Dante... I’d say that she’s a good villain to an extent. Her as a villain is very subjective within the fandom, depending on who you ask. While I believe that she could have been just as great a villain as Father, her character was rushed and her goals were a bit vague and unexplored. I like how, like with Father, she had ties Hohenheim; however, that backstory and those connections were introduced a little late. So, in the end, she just came across as more of the generic Vindictive Ex-Wife, and just a generic female villain. As for the Homunculi... I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I LOVED their portrayal in 2003/03. They were the “saving grace” of the entire team of the villains within the 2003/03 series. My favorite of the bunch were Lust and Greed--namely Lust, because of her ties with Scar. Envy came at a close second, but only seemed so because of a way to back up Dante as a villain, and the other Homunculi seemed a bit more underdeveloped as characters.

The Plot's quality drops after episode 35- Okay don't get me wrong. The first 35 episodes for me were 100/100. After that? a 60/100. Why? Because everything after that point feels contrived and feels forced. It's as tho, they are trying to do everything they can, even if it doesn't weave in, to make the brother's life miserable. Archer doesn't die and pops up, with his automail? Alphonse is there to be turned into a bomb, and become a philosophers stone. Okay, but why does this feel so forced? Also, can we talk about Nazi Shit? Now, I feel the brothers being separated is the perfect ending to this anime thematically and I have nothing against it, but A Nazi gate? Why? It was so sudden and pointless. It was never foreshadowed. They just showed it to make it as tragic as possible, because they didn't know of any other way to twist the plot, without convenient and totally forced plot devices. Also, How can Dante make Gluttony Mindless? Why is Juliet Douglass's Secret so obvious, when it can be fatal if leaked? Plot- Holes, Also, why are the Homunculli named the way they are? It just doesn't make sense. Also, FMA's Plot has an air of mystery to it, but it doesn't execute properly. I don't hate the end, I just felt disappointed, because the buildup towards it was terrible.

Now, I give a bit of grace concerning how the plot sort of dropped off and felt rushed halfway through, as well as the characters being underdeveloped and rushed. After all, Studio Bones was making up the majority of the material and took it in their own direction. Some factors to all of these cons in FMA2003/03 could be because of the Studio’s lack of a budget to flesh the characters and plot out more. Or, they had created so much additional material for this series that it became overwhelming.

As a writer, I can attest to the fact that “Character Overload” or “Element Overload” can either make or break a series, depending on how you handle it. That being said, there need to be a balance when it comes to these factors.

However, FMA2003/03 ended around 2004-05, So what we got is what we have.

Now, with that out of the way, let’s get on to the analysis of FMA: Brotherhood:

Characters: There isn’t a single character in this version of the series that I can choose as a “favorite”. Because, honestly? I lile them all. They’re all well developed and lovable in their own way, and have their own demension of depth to them. No, they’re not as deep as they aare in FMA2003/03, but from a writer’s perspective, that helps keep a balance with the overall plot of the stories. Now, some minor characters were just outrageous, but not to the level of boring (like 03!Kimblee and Archer), for example... Darius and Heinkel. There isn’t a vast difference in Brotherhood’s and 2003/03's cast of characters. However, if I had to note a difference, FMA2003/03′s characters were are more on the edge of realistic and Brotherhood’s were just... Loveable. However, that doesn’t mean that one counterpart of a character is better/worse than another. Both are quite memorable in their own way. Of course, in my opinion Brotherhood's villains are just better than 03's villains. Sure, the Homunculi aren’t given as much depth, but, they have redeeming qualities near the end of their time (i.e. Envy, and GreedLing). When Father was first introduced... his character made me think of how Dante started out, and I was worried that his character would end up just as rushed and he would just be the generic cliche Shounen villain. By the Promised Day Arc, however, I was surprised. Yeah, Father was still very shounen-y villain, but still a pretty darn good villain. I feel his backstory, and how he discarded all his human qualities which led to the creation of Homunculi was well put together, and I felt the concept how he created Alchemy in Amestris, while Hohenhime helped build Alkahestry in the east was well put together, and helped build the world of FMA (literally). To put it simply, his character was much more interesting than Dante, because it was fleshed out more. The Homunculi were awesome as well, Lust did her job, Pride and Wrath were simply awesome, GreeLing's development from an anti-villain to anti-hero was exceptionally well written and not the cliche anti-hero, which I can appreciate. Envy is the character you love to hate. And Gluttony and Sloth did their Part as Well. While I enjoyed 03′s portrayal of the homunculi, I felt like they only fleshed out some for that series (i.e. Lust) while others were just left to fall flat. With Brotherhood, all the Homunculi were evenly balanced out in their characters, not too much depth and not too little. Solf Kimblee was still the sadistic baster, but at least his entire personality was more explored this time, and I liked how they portrayed his psyche as an added affect to why he has his views.

Plot: Bortherhood’s plot was more fluid and weaved in seamlessly. As a lover of all things continuity... Brotherhood did it right, and every time I find an analysis of a teeny tiny subtle continuity detail (i.e. Ed’s gash on his forehead that lasts a few episodes), I get a writer-gasm! Sure, there were few plot devices and filler here and there. But the plot in gneeral wasn’t rushed or choppy, nor did it leave any holes in it. The way Brotherhood portrays it’s plot is to keep you as engaged as possible, adding some silly comic relief here and there to balance out the dramatic intensity every so often. Unlike 2003/03 where is was just one depressing and dark element after another, Brotherhood added in the comic relief points not and again to give it’s audience a break. And, that’s what I really appreciate, and think is a great story writing technique. All in all the Brotherhood series is literal binge-watch material

A Great Shounen: Many Shounen anime have their Arcs for the purpose of portraying the progress of a character, and keep introducing new villains; however, depsite this, there is rarely a sense of mystery, intrigue or a moving plot in a Battle Shounen Anime. What Brotherhood did was just that, except make it more digestible (and not super long like Naruto or One Piece), and added a great thematic exploration. For a shounen it was quite deep, the plot structure was more like seinen, and characters were awesome. In a way, we got everything we could in a Shounen anime that only lasted a little over 50 episodes: Depth, plot, characters in a shounen.

Thematic Exploration: Both FMA 2003/03′s and Brotherhood’s themes are the same, but Brotherhood makes it a bit more lighter. All the while, it also manages to raise questions on additional themes: revenge, truth, knowledge, sacrifice, worth of a human life, and many other things.

Soundtrack and Animation: Same as the analysis in the part of FMA 2003/03, and, once again... I will restate that I personally don’t believe that art style is what’s important to a series. It’s nothing more than glorified “eye candy”. However, for the sake of this analysis, I will be adding it in here. While Brotherhood’s art style and animation is more simplistic, it’s much easier to create those dynamic poses and expressions on an animation level. While FMA2003/03 did have it’s dynamic moments, it was mostly only during battle scenes or the really heavy moments in the series. Brotherhood maintains it’s art style through the series and keeps it a balance, so that some scenes aren’t too much animation but also not too little. And, both FMA2003/03′s and Brotherhood’s OST Soundtracks are beautiful orchestral pieces that really add additional effect to a scene that the respective series are trying to portray.

A sense of conclusion: A lot of Shounen Anime get prematurely cancelled, most Seinen end in a bittersweet manner. That’s why FMA2003/03′s ending with the fate of the Elric Bros was a bit more preferable for those who like a more realistic ending. But, I enjoy a story with a more conclusive ending that wraps all the plot points up together without leaving too many holes. Yeah, the “happy ending” of Brotherhood is cliche, but “happy endings” wouldn’t be “happy endings” if they weren’t. Not to mention, those types of endings are rare, because people really don’t want to write them, and, when they do, they’re rarely done well. Ed’s entire charcter arc wrapping up to where he swallows his pride as an Alchemist and gives up his Alchemy to bring his brother back is both wholesome and satisfying, because, through the show, it shows his progression and growth from beginning to end. And, having an arrogant character obsessed with Alchemy give it up and learn to humble himself because of it.. it’s really uplifting.

Now let's talk about the Cons within the Brotherhood series, they aren't a lot, but still, they did affect my experience quite a lot.

Overuse of Comic Relief: While the use is a nice balance to the already dark and dismal atmosphere of the series, it felt a bit overused. So much so that some emotional moments were inconvenienced by the use of that kind of humor. It was a bit much and created dissonance with the tone the scene was trying to portray. Now, it worked more in the Manga, because of the more visual gag of it, but, sometimes the visuals within the manga don’t translate as well to an animated one.

A Rushed First Half: While FMA 2003/03 began “In Media Res” with it’s first episode and then started a “flashback episodic arc” with the next handful of episodes.. Brotherhood just jumped right into it. While, yes, it was a better balance to not have the characters’ depth right at the beginning (slowly revealing it as the show goes on), the first half of Brotherhood was 0-100 through just the first few episodes. To the point it feels like the audience has to catch it’s bearings. But, once you get on the same page, it’s enjoyable from there.

So what’s the Point of this Ted Talk-esq FMA Post?

I’m sick and tired of seeing 03 Stans and MangaHood Stans fighting each other over just the smallest detail, especially when 03 Stans decided to bring leftist politics into it for no reason.

Personally, I just appreciate the fact that both series exist, ever since I've got in the franchise, it has become a part of my life, and still to this day is part of my life. Sure, I’m forever going to be part of this fandom.. but, I still see the beauty that peeks through the ruins and ashes of destruction now and then. I appreciate both series. Sure, I do prefer Brotherhood more, and get called a “Nazi” just because of it (ironic considering FMA: CoS was the movie sequel to 03... -__- ) , but 03 was excellent as well in it’s own way. It was very involving while FMAB was engaging. Both shows are something which you can learn something from and get attached to.

All in all, comparing both shows is okay, that's what I did here, but having a debate over which one is better isn’t just inherently bad... it’s TOXIC. Both series have their pros and cons, and they’re starkly different from each other. They’re two sides of the same coin. But, most importantly they are extremely important and impactful, so Pls don't have death battles over which one is better, don't say bad things about any fanbase, be respectful, and most importantly watch both and try to appreciate them. Because trust me liking both is a pretty darn good feeling.

#fullmetal alchemist #fmab #fma 03 #fma 2003 #full metal alchemist brotherhood #madiis musings

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scp-miraculous-pandoras-days · 3 years

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If Elias Gray was brought to the foundation (One-Shot!)

(Since it has been over a year since the Thrill of the Hunt hiatus started, and I'm starving for some content (and this has been bouncing around in my head for a while), here is a joke chapter about if the SCP Foundation was in The Thrill of the Hunt Miraculous Ladybug universe! Also, I own none of the characters other than my own O.C (Dr. Glee), here are some links to the original comic and comic dub, Please enjoy! The art above by Ipku of Deviant art.)

The foundation has tracked a dangerous anomaly to an abandoned warehouse on the east coast of Canada. However, this anomaly was unique. From eyewitnesses' reports, it appeared to be a humanoid wolf hybrid with a white coat and black accents, and gray armor-like plates on its legs, chest, and shoulders, a gray wolf skull for a face, and yellow luminescent eyes. It has exhibited several powers to evade capture... Such as electricity manipulation, the ability to raise voice to the point where it creates destructive soundwaves, abnormal strength, and agility. It is a likely Euclid class and a possible Keter class.

That is what the paper in the girl's hand said. A young, petite girl with light blue eyes, dark black hair with a blue hue, and fair skin sat in a chair, reading the paper in her hand. She wore a black t-shirt, jeans, and a metal collar with a small red light around her neck. That girl was once named Marinette Dupain-cheng, but now her name is Scp-6000, aka Pandora. A bright red box with black polka dots sat on the table in front of her. In the chair opposite from the girl was a woman in a lab coat. She had short dark brown hair with light brown highlights at the roots and ends. A large bang covered the right side of her face, concealing the right eye. Rectangular bottom rimmed eye-glasses sat at the bridge of her nose, the right side also hidden by her hair. Her deep green eyes looked tired and weary... dark bags were always present under them. Around her neck was a think chain with an odd eight-pointed star-like cross resting on her chest. The woman looked at Pandora expectantly.

"Dr. Glee, what do you want from me?" Pandora asked the woman.

"Pandora, it wasn't my idea. But, the o-5 council wants you to help contain this anomaly. It would be in your best interest to comply." The woman called Dr. Glee said. Pandora sighed, running it over in her head.

"I don't want Elias to be here. He does not deserve to be in this place. But... if I don't bring him in... the others will try to get a hold of him..." Pandora thought. Images of her friend being killed by the G.O.C, being used by the Chaos Insurgency, or Serpent's Hand running through her head. She hated the thought, but Elias had to be brought here... to protect him. Pandora looked up at Dr. Glee.

"Alright... I'll help contain him..." Pandora sighed. Dr. Glee looked relieved but paused at Pandora's choice of words. But, she shrugged it off.

~+~

Pandora was shocked when she arrived at the warehouse. She wasn't startled by the warehouse itself, but at who was there. Her friend Iris Thompson (Scp-105) was there, in combative gear, her camera around her neck. Her other friend, Cain (Scp-073) was also there, in a black tank top and jeans. But what shocked Pandora the most was the fact that Able (Scp-076) was there! She knew that after seeing her for a little over a month he started to act more human... but the fact the foundation let him out was shocking. He was glaring at Cain with intense hatred, so he hadn't completely changed.

"Er... what's going on?" Pandora asked Iris.

"Well, Able, Cain, and I were brought here to back you up in case the weird wolf thing decided to go nuts and try to hurt you!" Iris told her young friend.

"I have the Kwamis... this isn't necessary!" Pandora sighed.

"We insisted! You are our friend... we will make sure you aren't hurt." Cain said in his robotic voice while keeping one eye on Able.

"While I hate to admit it, my brother is right. We care about you, girl." Able rumbled, still glaring at Cain. Pandora sighed at the trio.

"If you guys insist... I'll call you three in if he gets hissy, alright?" Pandora said. The three nodded at that, but Cain noticed something.

"Pandora, you say that like you know it... do you have familiarity with this thing?" He asked.

"I won't answer that..." Pandora said, holding her box close to her. An M.T.F soldier walked up to her.

"The anomaly is in the warehouse... are you ready, Scp-6000?" He asked.

"I am..." Pandora responded.

"Elias... please know this is for the best..." Pandora thought to herself as the M.T.F soldier with a few others escorted her to the entrance, with the trio of humanoid anomalies tailing them.

~+~

Elias sat in his wolf form on the rafters of the abandoned warehouse. Who were the people hunting him? What did they want? Did they want to capture and kill him? These thoughts swirled around in his head, and he sat. His ears perked up when he heard a door open. He turned his head towards the sound and listened hard.

"Scp-6000, you understand what you must do, correct?" A male voice asked. Elias exhaled through his nose. They were sending someone else in to do their dirty work? How pathetic! But then, he heard a familiar voice... her voice...

"I know what I'm doing, don't worry." The familiar voice said. Elias moved to get a better looked at the source of the voices... He saw a man in a S.W.A.T-like uniform talking to...

"Marinette!" Elias thought. There was no mistaking that hair. However, Elias noticed that she was different. She wore a plain black t-shirt and jeans... her hair was down and a few inches longer. Her eyes were different too... they looked... tired... and old.

"What have those people put her through?" Elias thought angrily. He then noticed the object in her hands.

"Isn't that the Miracle Box?" He thought.

"Calm down, my pup. You must get all the information before you go on an angry rampage." Ylva told him in his head. Elias nodded and waited.

The man gave Mariette a walkie-talkie and closed the door on her.

"Coward..." Elias thought. He started to stalk from above.

~+~

Pandora sighed as she walked through the warehouse. She kept an eye on her surroundings. She didn't know how Elias would act.

"He may still be an a$$, but he won't hurt me... I hope..." Pandora thought. She felt eyes on her, and she stopped walking.

"You know... I never found the point in stalking prey before attacking it~" Pandora mused. She heard something descending from the rafters above. Jumping down from one crate to another, landing a few feet behind her. Pandora turned around to acknowledge her old friend.

"You haven't changed at all, have you?" She asked the humanoid wolf. He didn't answer... he only stared. Pandora was about to say something, but she was cut off.

"You're... alive?" He asked.

"Why... wouldn't I be?" She responded.

"But... the plane crash..." He started.

"Hold on, Plane crash?! What was the story everyone in was told?!" Pandora asked.

"Erm... well... we were told that you were going to America for an educational opportunity. But a malfunction on the plane you were on made the plane crash somewhere in the Atlantic ocean." He told her. Pandora stayed silent for a moment.

"Well then... So that's the story the foundation told my friends and family. Looks like I'm going to have a "talk" with the higher-ups when this is all over," Pandora said to herself.

"I'm glad you're alive... what really happened, though?" Elias asked.

The two started to chat with each other. Trading stories about what happened after Pandora was taken into the foundation. In the middle of Pandora's story about how she and Iris met, the walkie-talkie placed next to the Miracle Box suddenly buzzed to life.

"Pandora! Is everything alright? You have been in there for a while! Over!" Iris's voice said. Pandora picked up the walkie-talkie.

"Relax, Iris. Everything is going smoothly! Over!" Pandora said into the walkie-talkie.

"Are you sure? Over!" Iris asked.

"Very sure! Over!" Pandora responded. She then turned the walkie-talkie off and turned to her friend.

"My friends outside are getting antsy. We're going to have to cut it off!" Pandora told her Elias.

"Okay? But... why did that girl call you 'Pandora'? Your name is Marinette." Elias said.

"I haven't gone by Marinette in ages. My new name is Pandora ever since I was brought to the foundation. Actually, I prefer Pandora over Marinette now!" Pandora said.

"Geez... You'll still be the clumsy girl I knew back in high school in France, though..." Elias teased.

"Of course-" Pandora started, but a crashing sound was heard. The two turned to the source of the noise to find an agitated, 6-foot, tattooed warrior smashing through the warehouse. His exasperated cyborg brother, and an equally exasperated blonde girl on his heels.

"What the..." Elias started.

"I know..." Pandora responded before her friend could finish.

The two immortals and girl stopped when they saw their friend sitting with the anomaly she was supposed to be containing.

"Erm... Pandora, what are you doing?" The blonde girl called Iris asked her friend.

"Having a conversation with an old school friend," Pandora responded nonchalantly.

"An old school friend?" The cyborg-like man known as Cain asked.

"Yes, we went to the same high school back in Paris for a little while. He... was always like this..." Pandora said, gesturing to her friend. The tattooed man who was called Able... then dropped his weapons (which disappeared the moment they left his hands), and started to walk out.

"Able, where are you going?!" Iris asked incredulously as he walked away.

"I quit..." Able responded.

"What do you mean 'I quit'?! Able, get back here!" Iris said, jogging after the guy.

"You never said anything... why?" Cain asked.

"I didn't think it was important..." Pandora said.

"PANDORA-"

We'll be right back!

~+~

"So... you never brought up the fact that you went to the same high school with another anomaly because you were never asked?" Dr. Glee clarified.

"That is one way of putting it!" Pandora responded. Dr. Glee face-palmed and gulped down some coffee from the cup she had in her hand.

"The fact you were hiding this makes me wonder what else you are hiding from the foundation..." Dr. Glee sighed.

"You know... drinking too much coffee isn't good for your health..." Elias quipped. He was in his human form, wearing some clothes Pandora had given him. Ylva was at his side, dozing as he scratched her head.

"Look, mister werewolf, this stuff is one of the only things keeping me going... besides that, Pandora, hiding things from the foundation won't end well." Dr. Glee said.

"Dr. Glee, with all due respect, the foundation was the best option for me. But, it is not good. I don't trust anyone there, even you. I don't want the wrong people to use the Miraculous for the wrong purpose." Pandora said.

"Yeah... I agree with Mar- I mean, Pandora. She and I have seen what the Miraculous are capable in the wrong hands..." Elias commented.

"I suppose that's fair... But this is going to cost paperwork... looks like I'm pulling an all-nighter... again..." Dr. Glee sighed, downing the last of her coffee... before leaving the interrogation room.

"Is that lady always like that?" Elias asked.

"The foundation is not the easiest place to work... and considering all she's been through ever since she first became a researcher... she is bound to be messed up as a result..." Pandora responded with a sigh.

"She's not the only one who was f***ed up by this place..." Elias quipped.

"Judging from the look in your eye, you've seen some s*** too..."

"It's true..." Pandora sighed.

"Because of the capabilities of the Miraculous, the foundation is very interested in me. I've been asked to do so much for them, some of it fun, some of it... not so fun..." She confessed.

"Why don't you leave?" Elias asked.

"As I told Dr. Glee, this place was the best option for me... There are other organizations, that is true, but they don't have any interest in keeping the Miraculous a secret." Pandora explained to her friend.

"Care to elaborate?" Elias asked. Ylva's ears perked up.

"Well, there is the Global Occult Coalition. They were formed by the United Nations, and instead of containing and researching anomalies... they kill them..." Pandora sighed.

"Kill them?!" Elias exclaimed. Ylva looked alarmed.

"Yup! Those b*****s wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet in my head and throw the Miracle Box in an incinerator. They likely would have done something similar to you if the foundation hadn't gotten to you first." Pandora said.

"W-well then... are there others?" Elias asked.

"There is the Serpent's Hand... they want to reveal anomalies to the world and live in peace with them. It's a childish dream if you ask me, and an irresponsible one at that..." Pandora said.

"True..." Elias said, eyeing the Miracle Box In Pandora's hands.

"Then there is the Chaos Insurgency... I am not touching that thing with a ten-meter pole even if you pay me to do so..." Pandora sighed.

"What do they do?" Elias asked.

"They create chaos, you can tell from the name... they tried to get their hands on me at one point... yeah... didn't end well... had to get an amnesiac to forget the whole incident..." Pandora said.

"Jesus... are there any others?" Elias asked.

"Those are just the organizations I know of! Some anomalous churches and cults would love to get their hands on me! And who knows how many are out there!" Pandora ranted.

"Oh, God... What did I get myself into?" Elias asked.

"I have to wonder that too..." Ylva said.

"Oh... you two..." Pandora chuckled ominously.

"Welcome to the S.C.P Foundation! Otherwise known as; Hell~" Pandora said, throwing her arms wide open in faux welcome.

(Here’s a one shot! And if you want, you see more of this stuff here!)

#one shot #Thrill of the hunt #miraculous lb #scp #crossover #not cannon #might do more idk #why did i do this

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mi15018ellawatson · 3 years

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Analysis of Anorexia Artwork

I had not initially planned on analysing some other depictions of anorexia in artwork as I knew I didn't want to create anything similar to them but after thinking about it I thought it would be beneficial for me to explain why I do not like this typical depiction. In all honestly I also find it very upsetting to look at which is another reason why I don't feel this art isn't that helpful.

I am not necessarily criticising this artwork, every single people with anorexia experiences a different struggle, though it has some common symptoms it is different from person to person. However I also feel like this type of artwork is very stereotypical and possibly damaging.

Simple and Stereotypical

To start off, this type of documentation of anorexia is incredibly ‘simple’. Weight loss is a possible symptom of anorexia, or of any eating disorder at that. Weight loss or being underweight is not all that anorexia is, far from it. If I could sum it up eating disorders (anorexia in particular, as I can speak from experience) is an overwhelming loneliness, a need for control, a hatred of self and a fear of the world. Its finding a way to cope with everything happening to you and finding a friend in someone who promises to help you. It becomes about weight or size because that gives you something to work towards, it rewards you if you restrict your food or engage in disordered behaviours and punishes you when you don't. The reason I didn't necessarily want my creature to be scary is because it isn't all bad, it is a friend at your worst times and thats what is so dangerous and addictive about it. What I am trying to say is that making it only about weight is like saying you speak a full other language when you only have enough to get by on holiday - it is so so so much more complex.

Fat Phobic

To put it simply fat people can be anorexic, a lot of fat people have eating disorders, we just don't take them seriously or we even praise them when they do engage in eating disorders because society tells them they should be trying to lose weight. The last image especially is troubling to me, it implies that being fat is all that the girl fears and that it is something awful, that she can’t imagine anything worse and it also upholds the stereotype of her being underweight. If anyone with an eating disorder who isn't or hasn't been underweight sees this then they without a doubt will feel like a ‘fake’. That they don't really have an eating disorder because they don't look like the real version of the girl in front of their mirror. Eating disorders are also very competitive, a massive issue within the eating disorder community is the behaviour of trying to ‘prove’ yourself. Telling people how many hospital admissions you have had, telling others how little you eat, telling people what your lowest weight was etc. Artwork like that pictured above just fuels this competitive nature as it shares an experience that only a small amount of eating disorder sufferers have actually experienced. The ones that have experienced a low weight/hospital etc are equally as valid as those who haven't. After speaking to a friend they also shared the opinion that such artwork as that pictured above makes them feel so ashamed of having a body that looks closer to that of the reflection - that its so hurtful to know that how they look is being projected as peoples worst fears and as something that is terrible.

Looking at this information I hope it is clear why I wanted to avoid such representation of anorexia, I don't want to exclude or belittle anyone with a different struggle to me. Though I have been very physically unwell it is my own personal struggle and I wouldn't ever want to use it in a way that would hurt others. Of course my project is about the combination of autism, anorexia and trauma which is different from the typical representation of eating disorders I still just think it is really important to try and break down these harmful stereotypes.

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strayen-fx · 4 years

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Secrets, Stars, and Protein Bars

Han Jisung x Reader

You hated each other. Or at least, you told yourself that you hated each other. But everything changes when one night, you got stuck outside campus grounds with your one and only sworn enemy, leaving the two of you under the stars while sharing a secret and a protein bar.

Genre: Fluff, Slight angst, Fantasy

Wordcount: 2.8k

Warnings: mild violence

A/N: I actually enjoyed writing this… #selfpromotion hahaha. Anyways this is my first decent au in three months because college #sucks. Enjoy~~~ (gif not mine)

“What are you doing?”

Jisung walked up to you, a scowl evident on his face. The fact that he had to spend the whole midnight in the woods was already beyond disdainful for him – did he really have to be stuck in the wilderness with his sworn enemy? You could do basically anything to him – throw a snake at him, push him off the cliff, lead him to the pits of hell – and he knew he wouldn’t be able to fight you off. Not that he can’t, if he’d want to. But he knew he won’t. Jisung sighed internally. Why did it have to be you?

He was getting antsier and antsier as time went by. He was hungry, for one, and it didn’t help that it was practically freezing out. Why am I still feeling cold? he wondered. His gray sweatshirt didn’t offer much comfort, and he was suddenly envious of your hand-me-down jacket that was a few sizes too large for you.

Plus, he’s hungry.

You rolled your eyes, not even bothering to turn around and look at him. “I am basking under the moonlight, Han Jisung. What else do you think am I doing?”

You were feeling more and more frustrated. The castle lights were bright and enchanting from where you stood, and suddenly the idea of a late-night study group didn’t sound intolerable at all. The library was less than half a mile away – across the stupid moat that was busking with hungry water ghouls, across the stupidly ginormous lawn that stretched from the ramparts all the way to the ornate courtyard of your school. Some overly dramatic chancellor, you thought. Why did they have to enchant the school borders? They afraid of some stray dogs, or sum’n?

“I do appreciate the fact that you are enjoying your night with me,” Jisung replied, his voice equally dripping with sarcasm. “But, if you don’t mind, can you please make use of your precious brain and think of a way for us to get back in?”

You whipped your head towards Jisung’s direction, now failing to maintain your nonchalant demeanor. You were trying to think of a way to get back in – but having Jisung in close proximity wasn’t helping with your brain cells. At all. Your mind was stuck on RED ALERT, with the bright lights blaring on max, because Han freaking Jisung has entered your one-meter radius. The brunet, pale-skinned, sword-wielding prick who knew nothing but to torment your life on a daily basis. (You envy his sword. You’ve been trying to make a sword materialize by command, but you just couldn’t perfect it.)

Why the two of you were in bad terms, you don’t actually know for sure. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that he was a pureblooded warlock of royal descent, and you were a lowly sorceress with muddied bloodline. Perhaps it didn’t help that he was a very powerful magician who could command a spell by pure instinct, and you were a lowly peasant who was barely getting by with your diligence to learn in class. Perhaps you were annoyed by how charismatic he was and how he could easily get people to kneel by his side. Or perhaps you were most deeply annoyed by the flirty remarks he was sending to your direction whenever he gets the chance.

Or perhaps it was the fact that you actually liked him, and you knew that never in a billion years would the Hans allow a half-blood taint, let alone touch, their royal bloodline.

In a faux-cheerful voice, you asked, “May you please remind me – who was the one who scampered off from guard duties because he thought he saw a werewolf? Who led us deep into the forest, made us lose our way, made us fail to catch the curfew and get us trapped outside the castle for the whole night?” You squinted your eyes at him. “Was it even a real werewolf that you saw?”

“Not like I tied a leash for you to follow me around, baby,” he remarked, completely ignoring your question. “I don’t take it against you, though – it is perfectly normal to get attracted to me and tag along wherever I go.” He winked, wearing his signature lopsided grin. “Just tell me everything, baby. You’re the happiest when you’re with me, right?”

You opened your mouth to utter a nasty response, but you decided against it. You actually followed him off campus because, well, you have never seen a werewolf face to face before. You were curious as to how they actually look like. You were a huge fan of dogs, and a part of you believed that werewolves were just a bigger, undomesticated breed of the house pets you endearingly snuggle with back home. Explaining all these to Jisung was not worth the energy, though, and would probably sound idiotic on your part. You brought your eyes back to the tower which homed your comfortable bed.

God, even the endless chitchat of your roommate would be heavenly as compared to this.

“Why do you always have to act like a menopausal aunt?” Jisung asked.

He didn’t mean for the two of you to start off with the wrong shoe back in your freshman year. But now that he knew how much your hatred has grown for him, he had no idea how to fix it all. He did what seemed to be the most fitting action he could: reciprocate your hatred. And, that was the tale of how the two of you have become sworn enemies. He hated it, though, if he had to be honest. He would have chosen a simple, non-dramatic relationship with his seatmate in his Potions class.

“Maybe because I’m tired of seeing your panda eyes all day. Seriously, do you even get sleep? You look like shit,” you told him with a blank face.

“You don’t look grand, either.”

“Of course, that’s ‘cause I’m stuck with you. Tell me something I don’t know.”

Jisung held his chest, feigning hurt. “Don’t be like that, baby. Our future children won’t be happy to hear that coming from you.”

You began saying something, but Jisung has already moved on to whispering another spell. It merely bounced off the invisible barrier. He tried kicking, pushing, slashing, punching – all of which was to no avail. (He looked cool with his sword, though. You had to give him that.) The both of you knew there was no way you could get around the castle defenses, at least not with your current levels as magicians. The only way was to have someone from the inside create a small passageway for the two of you to sneak in. But no matter how hard you tried racking your brain, you couldn’t think of a single plausible idea that could make way for that situation. And so you just stood there idly, watching Jisung, your hands in your jacket pockets as you fiddled with your last pack of protein bar. You weren’t starving just yet; you decided to save it for later in case you find yourself starving in the middle of the night. Was there a spell in your advanced classes that could enchant someone to sleepwalk and possibly lift the barrier for you?

Jisung finally gave up, deciding to save his energy for the long night ahead of him. He sat beside an acacia tree, sighing deeply. You were wary of the silver sword he had in his hand, but deep down you knew the young man wasn’t going to use it against you. At least not for the time being. Your little skirmishes were limited to harsh words that were meant to annoy the other party, and it was nothing more than that. You didn’t know why, but you knew you actually trusted Jisung. That didn’t mean you could handle close contact, though. You chose to sit on a tree several feet away from where he was.

Just as you were beginning to accept your predicament (you were actually trying to remember everything from your girl scout days), your ears picked up the sound of twigs snapping from a close distance. A total silence followed, and then the bushes shook violently it was practically busted in half.

A gray werewolf – a beta, you reckoned – stood with all its might and grace. Its eyes glowed gold in the moonlight, its fangs bared and dripping with saliva. It released a guttural growl that made your hair stand on end.

Blood was pumping in your ears, and while you do see the resemblance of the creature with a dog, you knew by the way it flexed its muscles that it was way, way more dangerous than your average household pup.

“I-It was real,” you whispered stupidly.

“Surprise, surprise,” Jisung groaned. “I told you I wasn’t making things up.”

“I didn’t say you made it up. I was just saying you don’t have a 20/20 vision.”

“Oh, shut up.”

The werewolf growled once more, exasperated by your little banter. It stepped closer, painfully slow, calculating its preys’ every movement. It had its eyes trained to Jisung and his silver blade, but that didn’t offer you any sort of consolation. Once it’s done with Jisung, it’s gonna take you.

Or maybe it’s the other way around.

The creature leapt, aiming for your chest. You stood there, dumbfounded, and you thought: so this is how I am going to die.

You thought: I haven’t beaten Jisung in Dark Arts yet.

What happened next took you by surprise. Jisung shoved you out of harm’s way, and his sword met the giant hound’s skin. The creature seethed in pain and scrambled backwards as blood trickled from its front limb. You sat there on the ground with your heart pounding on your throat while Jisung stood in front of you, shielding you as he took on a defensive stance.

Jisung didn’t wait for the werewolf to attack again. With his sword drawn close to his body, he charged and jabbed at the enemy. Despite its size, however, the werewolf’s speed was something of its own league. It easily parried Jisung’s attack, making the latter’s sword spin and vanish into the thickets. Jisung hadn’t expected this. You could practically see him calculating his next move, but the creature was faster. He jumped and pounded against Jisung’s back, causing the lad to fall on his knees in pain.

You had to do something. You knew you had to do something, but panic was swirling your thoughts. You knew a handful spells that could either disable the werewolf’s movement or cause it heavy injury, but you were worried that it could crush Jisung underneath it. Even worse, your aim could be off and you could harm Jisung instead. Heck, you weren’t even sure if your spells work for special creatures. You were never confident with your wizarding skills – what if it bounces back and hit Jisung?

Jisung and the werewolf continued wrestling against each other. They were rolling on the grass, fighting each other off, and you can see blood tricking from Jisung’s arm. Your desperation to save him was overpowering your fear. Just as you were about to steeple your hands and whisper an incantation, all movements stopped.

Jisung laid underneath the wolf. He wasn’t moving. A pool of red was beginning to form at his sweatshirt…

…blood.

A surge of newfound energy flowed into you. Fear, sadness, pain – everything combined into a ball of anguish that materialized into balls of flame at your fingertips. It smelled like sulfur and vaguely of cayenne. The scent gradually became overpowering, and just as you were about to throw a forbidden curse, a voice broke your stupor.

“Your aura smells nasty. Calm thyself, L/N.”

Just like that, your anger went down to drain. You fell on your knees, chest heaving, cheeks cold and wet.

Were you crying?

“I-is it dead?” you choked out. You wiped your cheeks harshly as you forced your legs to stand up. You managed to heave yourself to where Jisung was just as he was pushing the dead creature off of his body. He sat up, and suddenly you felt like your soul has again left your body.

Jisung’s plump cheeks were now tinged with color, unlike his usual paper-white complexion. The bags under his eyes seemed to have diminished. His lips looked fuller and redder…

…of course, because blood was dribbling down from it.

Jisung grinned, flashing his bloody fangs.

“I should probably clean up,” Jisung said casually, as if werewolf blood wasn’t dribbling down his chin. He pushed his deceased enemy farther away from him. Mere seconds later, it disappeared into a small pile of ashes.

Jisung tugged his shirt to wipe the traces of blood on his lips. He whispered a simple spell upon himself, and just like that, his clothes and skin were back to how they used to be – as if the whole assault was just a manic dream. Even the wounds on his arm has completely vanished. Jisung fell back down on his back, sighing deeply. “I’m still tired. A soft bed sounds about perfect.”

You blinked once. Twice.

Your heart has already gone back to a steady pace. It was still beating loudly, though, like a colossal drum stuck on your chest. Strangely enough, you were able to react to the revelation pretty calmly. Your knees felt like jelly, though, as you were still a bit shaken by the werewolf encounter. Reluctantly, you sat a small distance beside Jisung as you continued eyeing him carefully.

He’s a vampire, you thought to yourself. Your sworn enemy is a vampire. Finally – after all those years of trying to get an information that could be valuable for your clan, you finally found an incriminating secret that is so huge, it could probably boost your clan’s status beyond imagination. The Hans’ heir is a vampire, and you were the one who discovered it. You could be the one to lay this information in front of everyone. You could be rewarded for uncovering the most powerful clan’s unforgivable sin. No one would make fun of you anymore, especially not Jisung. You were supposed to be delighted. You were supposed to be celebrating.

But somehow, you felt different. Your chest was bursting with an explosion of emotions, and triumph wasn’t one of them.

You fell on your back, just a couple feet away from your vampire classmate. If you reached out your arm, you could probably hold his hand.

“You didn’t have to save me, you know,” you uttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I know.”

“I could tell the chancellor and the professors. And everyone. I could rat you out.”

Jisung actually laughed at that. “I know.”

“Is that the reason why you were always hotheaded these past days? Because you weren’t getting enough blood?”

Jisung laughed again, and it was the most beautiful sound you have ever heard. “Wow, I didn’t know you were paying that much attention.”

The night was just beginning; a part of you was worried that something – another magical creature, perhaps – was going to jump out of the shadows to feed on you. First a werewolf, then a vampire; could your night get any worse? You knew you should be up and alert for whatever may come to attack you, considering that you were out in the open and totally defenseless – considering that a vampire is literally lying next to you – but you thought, to hell with it, and you let yourself get enveloped by the comfortable silence.

The sky was dotted with innumerable stars, and it was the most number of constellations you have seen in your entire lifetime. You allowed yourself to take in the sight before your eyes.

You felt Jisung inch close. He moved until your shoulders were already touching. You rolled to your side, watching Jisung’s profile. His cheeks were flushed, and his lips were even fuller than you last remember. His skin glowed, you thought, or was that a trick of the moonlight?

You didn’t have time to think this through, though, as he moved his face and his eyes met yours. His eyes looked more black than brown, you noticed. They had a soft and warm look in them, and they looked different than when the two of you were bickering and annoying the hell out of each other. They shone like stars – no, they shone as if they held an entire galaxy. Maybe there lied the reason why you have hated him all these years: because you didn’t want the way his eyes made you feel. You felt like putty under his gaze, and you didn’t want to admit it.

Jisung grinned from ear to ear as if he could see the cogs working on your brain. (Could vampires do that? Read minds?)

“If you had been hungry this whole time, you could’ve just told me,” you whispered. “I still have a whole protein bar in my pocket.”

“Flavor?”

“Chocolate.”

“I bet that would be delicious,” Jisung whispered back. You watched as he licked his lips, his eyes darting from your eyes to your mouth.

“You are a vampire, Han Jisung,” you whispered, letting your face inch forward. You thought of everything that had passed over the boy’s lips – blood and bile and curses.

But Jisung’s mouth was soft now, and he tasted like apples.

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cynical-amphisbaenia · 3 years

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hiya! i was wondering if i could get assigned a classpect / lunar sway / blood caste? i’m an ENxP (T/F = 50/50) 4w3 468. i’m daydreamy and believe in the impossible and destiny as well. the stuff i daydream about is usually self ship kinda stuff. i tend to be blunt and outspoken to those i trust and am a people pleaser to those i don’t. i hate being left in the dark about things, like i gotta know ya know? which is more meddlesome than anything else. i’m a very bad worrier/anxious as frick. i have also been described as “over sensitive, annoying and whiny”. sometimes i really think that in a past life i was 100% royalty due to certain aspects of myself. i’m very much focused on my image and how others view me and will frequently worry about it and adapt myself to fit how they’d like me to be. i also notice i have an equal amount of ego and self hatred. i am extremely talkative (especially over text). i can be nosey and give unwanted advice sometimes. i tend to be very detached from the outside world and i accidentally isolate myself sometimes even though i love being around people. anyways, i can be overreactive/argumentative. i have a habit of making people do stuff for me which yeah isn’t good i know. i’m also a bit of a pushover and in school would frequently just allow myself to be treated badly. but it doesn’t bother me too much i luckily just am detached to my past pain until i think about it. (again) in school i was always the jokester and never did my work and wanted to play around instead and that still is a problem to this day. (i only ever did that with friends i was extremely close to. every other class i was quiet and isolated myself away from people) which brings me to the thing of humor being a huge part of my personality. i LOVE comedy (which makes stuff like marvel movies my favorite instead of the dark and dreary dc) and i often use humor to cope with things. like example: joking about wizard of oz while the threat of an ef3 tornado literally wrecking my metaphorical shit was very possible, i was like 11 at the time. i also love pranking people and playing around with them. now onto likes n stuff: i love the supernatural, angels/wings, fashion, cosplay, music, history, art, theories, and aesthetics. i really love the wind and feel very much connected to it. (same with angels and stuff related to that) an aesthetic i’m very connected to is the empty dark blue cloudy morning aesthetic. specifically in the mid-2000s. idk why but it’s just,, me. oh!! a thing i noticed is i accidentally just copy other people’s/character’s personalities. which could be very much related to other stuff but yeah. some hs kins to throw out there are: dirk strider, june egbert, and karkat vantas. someone who i act a lot like but refuse to say i kin him is: jake english. i have more i could go on and on about myself but i don’t want to burden you with all of that. also i’m really sorry if this is a lot. if it’s too much you can just delete it. - 🐇

Hello, thanks for asking! You appear to be a Prospit dreamer and fuchsia blood. As for your classpect, there are three main ones I would consider - Heir of Hope, Sylph of Breath or Sylph of Space. You may also want to consider Page rather than Sylph. This would make you either a Pinius, Pius or Pigo.

Heir of Hope is likely due to your belief in the impossible, focus on daydreams and attempt to turn negative situations into positive ones via humour. There are also various forms of Hope symbolism important to you, you have various common Hope traits, and being an Heir could explain some of your Breath/Space traits.

However, you may want to consider Sylph/Page of Breath/Space as you also appear to often either create or serve distance for yourself. Some of your traits are also typical of those of Sylphs and Pages. Breath symbolism is also important to you, and creativity and destiny are also both parts of Space.

Ultimately, ask yourself which is more important in your life or appears to have a greater presence. Perhaps see which aspect the advice you give lines up with more often or what appears to define you more. If the answer is Breath or Space, to determine between Sylph or Page, ask yourself if it feels more like you serve or create the aspect for yourself/others - do you give what is already there (Page) or do you have to make it yourself (Sylph)?

I hope this helps! Feel free to ask any follow up questions. ^^

#anon #🐇#classpect #classpecting #long post #finally just adding links into it #idk why i didn't do that originally

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dopescotlandwarrior · 4 years

Text

Bluegrass-Chapter Three

Special thanks to @statell for all your help.

Previous chapter at AO3

Chapter Three

Claire was dripping on the carpet, buck naked, and shaking again from the cold. It was a staredown between the two women. One belonged there, one didn’t, but here they were.

“I am Doctor Beauchamp, your veterinarian, and you are?” Claire reached for another towel and the woman jumped at her, eyes wide with hatred, as Claire backed off and tried to walk around her to put her clothes back on. The woman pushed her into the wall, shocking Claire into action. “I’ve had enough of your bullshit. Is this how you treat all your guests? You are acting like a gangster girl protecting her territory. I wouldn’t think Jamie would go for such a cheap model, but I cannot ignore what’s in front of me. Kindly stand aside and I will relieve you of my presence.” The woman stood her ground with flaming hatred in her eyes like she might tear Claire apart. “Don’t you get it? You are nothing to me, Jamie is nothing to me, and this poisoned business means nothing to me. You are a couple of losers and our paths won’t cross again because I don’t deal with fucking riffraff!” As the words flew out of her mouth, Claire was shocked, wondering where they were coming from. She felt her cheeks hot with a blush from her uncharacteristic aggression. She grabbed her clothes and yanked them on as she ran for the door, it sounded like Dustin just pulled up to save her. The woman was screaming into her cell phone at Jamie to get back to the house before she died of shock after being attacked. Her tirade was so long Jamie just kept the line open and drove home to see his future wife. Dusty waited in the driveway for Claire and laughed when she did a perfect handstand off the three-step porch. They each sighed with relief as Highland Brothers Farms receded in the rearview, hopefully never to be seen again.

Jamie pulled into his driveway and watched Claire and Dusty turn the corner and drive out of his life. For some reason, he felt hollow inside, shaking his head he walked into the house to hold his fiance for the first time in eight weeks. She flew into his arms and held tight to his waist; head pressed against his chest with a nonstop description of how Claire attacked her. Jamie tried to pull her chin up, but she managed to squirm away from his control and continue her tirade.

“Isobel, why didnya tell me when ye were gettin in so I could pick ye up? I’ve been waitin eight weeks for a kiss from ye lass.” Isobel looked up at Jamie and demanded to know what that girl was doing in their shower. Jamie pulled her to a chair and started his long story of the past three days, softening the truth wherever possible. Isobel cried like he thought she might, but it wasn’t an hour of sobbing that kept him from her body, it was two days of continuous complaining, crying, and pushing him away. He needed to reconnect, and sex had always been the avenue back to each other but she resisted.

By the fourth day, he stopped trying, stopped talking to her, and stopped coming home for dinner. As the wedding date loomed, Isobel announced her father had rescheduled the nuptials six months in the future to see if they grew closer, as they once were. Jamie just shook his head feeling like he had lost all control over his life as the FBI tortured him during the day and Isobel took over at night. On the rare occasion she would cuddle with him, he made short work of grabbing an orgasm before she turned her back on him for another month. Now and then, Jamie would google Claire Beauchamp, DVM to catch up on her life. His smile was big and soft when he saw the celebration for the return of the tiger family. No longer babies, the mother still licked, loved, and disciplined with the male right behind her. He found Claire in the pictures and studied her face, wishing her well. Jamie tried to get Isobel involved in the business because this was the life they promised each other, the life her father had financed for them. She wanted no part of Jamie’s world, yet she complained vehemently about boredom and her hatred for Kentucky. Several times when Jamie showed up at home for lunch, he would hear the back door click closed or find Isobel in an animated conversation on the phone which quickly ended, then her sour attitude took over again. He wondered how they ever got to this emotional wasteland.

It was on a whim that he ended up in Ireland the summer of his sixteenth year. He and his friends dared and double-dared each other until they were rounded up at the airport by the barn supervisor and taken to a breeding farm for racehorses. It was hard work, but racing got into his blood and he went back the second year without the others. Because no one had ever come back for another summer, the barn supervisor took a special interest in Jamie, encouraging his questions and sending him to help with day races.

Coming back to Scotland he looked for an opportunity with racehorses, crossing paths with Geneva Dunsany. The beautiful flirt could not hold a candle to his true love of racing and she became petulant and cranky before long. Jamie could not keep up with her moods and temperament and the relationship ended after a year. He got to know Isobel from family dinners and weekends away during the holidays. She was the polar opposite of her wicked sister, at least she was then.

While Jamie was still deciding if it was proper to date Geneva’s sister, Isobel pulled him into the barn at their family estate and professed her love for him. She spun a web with her words and pushed her tongue into his mouth, two months later she was pregnant and sobbing on his shoulder.

Jamie was filled with emotions like guilt, terror, remorse, and regret. He could not fathom how this could happen when Isobel was on the pill, but there it was, his pregnant girlfriend.

He spoke to Mister Dunsany with tears in his eyes and confessed Isobel was pregnant and asked for her hand in marriage. They talked at length about what Jamie wanted in life and how this news would affect his chance to get it. Jamie knew his prospects at joining the horse racing world were far out of reach and it devastated him.

Dunsany was a smart man and knew a devoted husband required options, goals outside of the home, and a belief in himself. He doubted his daughter would sustain those needs because she was self- centered and stupid. He arranged to send the unhappy couple to Kentucky and put up the money to buy land and build a state-of-the-art facility for breeding horses. The original dams were purchased by him and all costs to maintain the business for the first year were paid in full.

He hoped the prestige of owning such a complex would keep Isobel happy and in America because he couldn’t stand the sight of her anymore, or her sister for that matter. To Jamie, it was a dream come true and he asked Isobel to marry him before they left Scotland.

Jamie felt wretched about his lack of love for Isobel, but they both tried hard in the first two years to please each other, to find joy in their new life, and excitement in their future. Isobel loved one of Jamie’s new horses, Porcelain Love, and spent most of her time riding and working with her trainer. To what end was never clear to Jamie but Isobel seemed happy.

On a warm summer day, Isobel took a fall while riding with her trainer. She complained loudly about pain in her abdomen, rolling back and forth on the bed in their room. Jamie was beside himself and put his fist through a wall outside their room. Isobel would not let him enter, help or comfort her, and the continuous sobbing was driving him crazy.

The next morning Isobel was at the breakfast table with a puffy face telling Jamie she lost the baby during the night. He tried to get her to a hospital, but she refused and was riding again three days later. Jamie worried about her, but she looked the picture of health and was willing to give him her body a short week later. When he looked up miscarriage on Google he was utterly confused and when the tiny voice of reason suggested maybe she never was pregnant he slammed the lid on his laptop and forced himself to think about other things.

Their lives continued much the same over the next year and Jamie had prized foals for his breeding efforts. He was able to pay double and triple loan payments back to Dunsany and his confidence grew with each foaling. His best broodmare would shoot Jamie to the top of breeders in Kentucky, when her foals from previous years started winning big races. He knew if he could spend more time choosing studs, researching sire lines and being at the track he would do so much better, but Isobel needed too much attention.

When Isobel announced she was going home for two months to see her family, Jamie felt nothing and did not try to stop her. His first night alone he walked the numerous hallways of the enormous house that Isobel insisted on. The emotions that filled him were relief, happiness, and excitement. He was stuck with a shrew, but for the next eight weeks he would live in blissful silence.

With so much extra time he devoured books about how a man loves, what made marriages work, how to fall in love and a dozen more. He was determined to read himself into the perfect groom. He created mantras to say daily like “I love my woman”, “she completes me” and other, equally corny phrases that he hoped would bring love for Isobel to his heart. He put his best face forward when she came home but it was little more than a mask on a sack of grain. When Isobel returned more hateful than ever it was just so easy to ignore her. The mantras were dropped, the books were thrown away, and Jamie threw himself into the work he loved. Claire’s name came up in conversation with another breeder and that night he checked Claire’s Facebook, and saw pictures and comments about Dusty leaving for vet school. There were comments and messages from most of the breeders at Jamie’s level. He was so proud of her and Dusty both. Angus and Rupert remained Jamie’s trusted companions, but even they would be caught looking at him strangely at times. In an effort to pull them back into his life, Jamie arranged a poker night and stocked his bar with the best whisky that all three men enjoyed a bit too much. Once they were good and drunk, Rupert mumbled something about the poisoning making Jamie’s head snap up. He couldn’t let it go and continued to ask them questions about their thoughts on that day until it came tumbling out of Rupert’s mouth. “Ye lads think I did it, is that it?” Jamie wanted to tear into his friends and struggled to give the appearance of calm innocence. “We know it was yer horses that were poisoned, none of the others. It just looks bad Jamie boy, like you wanted the insurance money or somethin.” The questions became more pointed and the moods more combative until Jamie finally stood up and glowered at them making them both stop talking. “Ye two idiots are overlookin one horse that remained healthy, and mine, Porcelain Love was not poisoned, and she’s insured same as the others. Suppose ye explain that.” “Isobel’s horse?” Rupert turned a suspicious eye on Jamie. “I held her back from the breeding program because Isobel fell in love with her. I never transferred ownership so yer theory isna worth a shit.” When his drunk friends left, they were quiet because they were too drunk to think. Jamie staggered to his room and slept in his clothes because he couldn’t remember how to get them off. He spent two days in bed with a righteous hangover and remembered nothing about the argument with his friends. The events that Claire endured in the three days following the poisoning were such an assault to her life, that she vowed never to share space with James Fraser again. She worked very hard to forget the dead horses, the FBI abuse, and the crazy girlfriend who accosted her in Jamie’s bathroom. She and Dustin resumed their ordered world and for the next seven months pretended that nothing could stop them. If one of them mentioned Dustin’s leaving for school the other would shut the conversation down and change the subject. Doors to the best breeding farms continued to open and Claire’s reputation grew, along with her income. “Hello Claire, I don’t know if you remember me but…” “How could I ever forget what you did for me, of course I remember you! What is happening over there?” “Well, the director was fired shortly after you were here which is a big plus. It took a while, but I finally found the tigers, Claire. The zoo purchased them back after the public uproar caused by that news release. You remember, when you tried to tear the director apart for what he did?” Claire giggled at the memory and felt a growing excitement because the tigers were coming home. “We want you here when we release them back to the male. The babies are grown now, still under the mama’s control but it's uncertain if the male will accept them. I was hoping you could spend some time with him before they come. Prepare him.” Claire almost felt dizzy from the absolute acceptance of her gift. It was the first time she had a conversation with someone who believed her, and she found it liberating. She was excited to see the tiger again and join in the celebration. The tiger was back in his original enclosure where he had better access to Claire. She sent him pictures in her mind of what his children now looked like. Over and over he rejected them, transferring to Claire an image of young tiger cubs instead. “You were little once.” Holding each picture in her mind. “You grew up into a magnificent adult, but you are the same tiger inside that you’ve always been.” She continued to see pictures of babies in her head. They were getting nowhere. Claire sat on the floor and ran her hands down the tiger’s back. “Your wife is coming home, does that make you happy?” she laughed at the sparkling colors that exploded in her mind. “I’ll take that as a yes!” The arrival of the tigers was kept quiet by Claire’s request. The male tiger was not accepting the change in his offspring and she worried about the public witnessing a confrontation. The adult female was shown first, her crate pushed against the bars so the tiger could get reacquainted with her. Watching them sniff and growl quietly made Claire so happy. He was thanking her, over and over again with his images of sparkling color. After two hours they released her and the two made short work of showing their joy. The next day the juvenile tigers were released one at a time as everyone held their breath. The first young tiger pressed into his mother and she licked his head and laid down with him. This ritual was followed until all three were with their mother. Claire hated to leave the tiger, but she had surgeries scheduled in the afternoon. One last time she sent him images of his tiny babies and how they looked now. The old handler walked her to the parking lot and again stayed with her until Dusty came for her. She waved happily and they drove away. “Is that guy sweet on you?” Dusty almost sneered at the man before turning around to drive away. “No, he’s just a friend and very important to the tigers. Ready for a busy afternoon?” “Of course.” Claire thought about Jamie sometimes, mostly wondering if they ever solved the mystery, whodunnit and how did he do it. Her curiosity faded over time and he would drift in and out of her head quite randomly it seemed. When August rolled in, Claire and Dusty were pulled in every direction with vet checks as the animals were prepared for the September auction at Keeneland. This was where owners chose the horse that might enter the road to the Kentucky Derby. The racing industry was abuzz with excitement as breeders advertised the product of their matches. This is what separated the exceptional breeders from the rest. Expertise to choose the best stud, and more importantly a dam with a history of foaling stakes-winning horses, especially two-turn races. These foals were highly valued, and the selling price could exceed a million dollars. Claire was unaware that the foal she cut out of the dead dam at Highland Brothers on the day of the poisoning, was just such a colt. Claire leaned against a tree and had a snack with Dusty watching the two-year-olds run the track. Clearly, there were those that were endowed with the physical attributes and mentality for racing and those that were not. They were spending the day vetting weanlings and yearlings. She looked at Dusty laying on his back, sound asleep. It would all come to an end in a week and she hadn’t dealt with that yet because it felt like she was losing a part of herself. She knew he was worried about her, but he was excited to start the greatest experience of his young life. She just watched his serene face and tried to memorize it for when she missed him. He wanted to work together when he came home a DVM and talked about it constantly. She loved his enthusiasm but didn’t share his vision of the future, so she remained quiet during these times.

“Why can’t we talk about working together when I come home Doctor B? It makes it easier to leave.”

“Knowing that possibility is alive as a possible future will give me comfort too Dustin. I have not shut my mind to it, nor do I want you obligated to me. Take your life as it comes and I will do the same. Who knows, we may decide to work together when you’re done.” She kept her schedule very light for the next week so Dustin could get packed and she could interview candidates to take his place. She felt her phone vibrate against her hip and felt a bump of excitement looking at the caller. “Doctor Beauchamp.” “Claire! Glad I caught you. Would you forgive a guy for being bold and asking you to dinner? If not, then this conversation is over.” Claire smiled to herself and tried to think about what he was asking? She decided this was not a professional call so that could only mean… “You may speak freely sir,” she giggled. “My brother is opening a restaurant next weekend and I need a girlfriend for the evening. Sorry, that sounds ridiculous. To be honest, I have fallen into the category of men who marry their careers and I have no social life. It’s pathetic. I’ll say it for you.” He laughed a little self-consciously, with just enough humility to tug at Claire’s heart. “That sounds wonderful Chad, it would be my honor. Should I meet you at the compound?” “If I remember correctly, that would be a heinous mistake. If you don’t mind, I will pick you up. Since you were so nice to agree, pick any dress you want at Logan’s and it’s on me. One stipulation, it has to be over one-hundred dollars.” “That is a nice treat and since I am woefully short on evening wear, I might just take you up on that offer. Thank you Chad, I’m excited already.” The date, time, and address were exchanged, and Claire clicked off feeling something unfamiliar like she suddenly felt pretty. It was enough to put some extra energy in her walk for the rest of the day. Claire interviewed eight people feeling even more miserable about Dustin leaving. Her perfect assistant would be a strong male, well-grounded so he could take orders without feeling emasculated, an open mind to deal with her diagnostic methods, and was agreeable to assist her day or night. She only had one more day to interview new people and she was feeling hopeless. This is the very reason female veterinarians rarely choose large animals as a specialty, they needed strength to assist them. She looked down her list of candidates she had interviewed, and her heart sank. There was one more interview, a female named Molly, she felt utterly defeated. Molly knocked on Claire’s door ten minutes before their meeting which added a plus one before the door even opened. Claire smiled and leaned forward to shake the woman’s hand and felt the grip of strength and purpose. Molly had a pretty face and charm so characteristic of a Kentucky upbringing. She also had the body of a female wrestler and enough inner strength to look into Claire’s eyes when she talked. Plus two. They wandered in the woods and chatted away about the job, Molly’s experience with horses, and her willingness to learn. Claire was over the moon with this young woman and asked if she wanted to ride along with her and Dustin for the last day. Molly was excited and could hardly contain her enthusiasm. Plus three. When Dusty honked outside, Claire’s throat closed up and her eyes stung with tears. He would never be waiting for her again, she realized, and she pushed back hard on that emotion. Molly could see her struggle to compose herself, realizing she was stepping into shoes that were very important to her new employer. She felt nervous and tried to rally her confidence that deserted her as she watched Claire and Dustin together during afternoon treatments. Just before she was ready to abandon ship and run, Claire left her alone with Dusty for a quick meeting with the breeder. Dusty was aware of Molly’s growing silence and he wanted to infuse her with confidence to help Claire. It was all for Claire, it was always Claire that motivated his direction. “You will be a great assistant for Doctor Beauchamp Molly, I’m glad you’ve accepted the job. Crap, when I think of how awful I was in the beginning, it makes me cringe. Doctor B never said a word when I fetched the wrong horse or forgot to connect the cross ties and let one run away. I was all thumbs looking for the right gauge needle or syringe and my hands shook all the time.” Dusty shook his head and smiled at the memory. He noticed Molly had straightened her posture and was listening intently. C’mon girl, buck the hell up, he thought, you walk in the shadow of the most amazing person on earth. The sooner you see that the better. On the way to Dusty’s house, Claire went through her files and updated the notes for the week. “Did we just do vet checks at Sterling last week? Jesus, I don’t remember how many.” “Ten two-year old’s, nine perfect, one shin splint, the gray gelding, Happy Runner. You need to bill that day if you haven’t already.” Claire wrote furiously as Dusty talked and Molly watched. “The colt we treated at 3 Chimneys?” “Shelly hooves, biotin supplement with rapeseed daily, sound otherwise. Wormed five three-year olds, need to bill whatshisname. I don’t like the way he looks at you Doctor B so be careful around him, don’t go alone.” Claire wanted to ask if that included her date with him next weekend but thought better of the idea and went on to the next file on her lap. She forced herself not to look up until she felt the truck stop and knew they were at Dustin’s house. Try as she might, the tears were welling up already and she couldn’t stop them as she felt Dustin get out of the driver’s seat.

“You remember how to drive, right Doctor B?” When he saw her tears, he pulled her out of the truck and hugged her tightly. He told her he wanted to stay another year, but it would jeopardize his scholarships and he was so sorry he had to leave. He let her hug him while he thanked her for every single thing she had done for him until his voice shook with emotion. For Molly, it was a view into the relationship her employer was losing, and it rocked her to the core. Claire looked up at this incredible young man and told him to be early for everything, no dating until his GPA was 4.0, and get a Facebook page so she could spy on his progress. Dustin laughed, wiping his eyes and made a hasty exit, waving to Molly as he sprinted toward his home. Claire looked at the steering wheel of her truck and wanted to yell for Dustin to save her from this task. You just hugged that right goodbye she told herself, so find your bravery and get into that truck. Molly watched her new boss wondering why she was hesitating. Like a whisper from her angel she got out and asked if she could drive. Claire shot around the truck and jumped into the passenger seat with a rush of relief. Molly dropped the vehicle into drive and expertly maneuvered the cars and other obstacles on the drive back to Claire’s house. The only distraction was Claire’s sobbing. Plus 4 for Molly. Claire was composed when they climbed the steep steps to her home. She noticed Molly’s white knuckle death grip on the rail and was horrified at the spontaneous laugh that burped out of her mouth. “I’m sorry to laugh dearest, but it seems you have a height issue. It bothered me in the beginning too, you will get used to it, I promise.” She held an elbow until they were successfully at the top and invited Molly in for a bit to talk about the job. She would make it quick as she had already taken an afternoon of her time. Plus five for Molly. Later that evening when Claire enjoyed some peaceful moments on her patio she looked to the quiet beast of a vehicle and decided she had to get used to driving again. Before she changed her mind, she was in the driver’s seat heading down her dirt road at ten miles per hour. Seeing the end of the road she deftly pushed the gear into reverse and twisted the wheel hard, then drive, and twisted the wheel again, then reverse with the wheel getting hard to turn. She was winded when she looked up finding herself quite stuck between a very large tree in the front and a duplicate in the back. “Jesus Christ, how did I do this?” She got out and looked at both bumpers in relation to the offending trees and decided it was impossible to get out of this position without removing a tree. She went from one bumper to the other for ten minutes with mounting panic and was startled by a neighbor who asked if she needed help. She spun toward the voice and her face brightened with hope. “I seem to have jammed my truck between trees and I cannot get out.” “We don’t hear that kind of accent around these parts, but I like it. May I?” Claire’s smile was all about permission and gratitude as she shook her head and moved out of his way. She watched what she decided was expert handling of her massive, stupid vehicle and shook the man’s hand vigorously as he laughed. The neighbor watched her ease down the street, a bit slower this time and laughed again. Claire ran up her steps and locked herself into the house looking out at the vehicle like it would somehow demand she drive again. That is enough of everything for today, she decided. She poured a healthy glass of whisky to reward her efforts, heal her broken heart, and celebrate her new assistant, Molly.

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yourcredibility · 3 years

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Have to say I am surprised that Cyberlife is seen as evil through and through and Connor is just playing into their hands and being hurt by humanity the same even on a game that is surface level, black and white and unexpanded on its issues.

It seems people forget in context that race-traitors, bootlickers, “Tom’s”... or at the very least people who progressed in the same means with lighter consequences of the same race do not have to inherently suffer from devastating backgrounds and can even be in a greater state of greater benefit. I’ve never actually got the vibe of Connor being a traitor until I was informed.

Some have no problems explaining where Connor with increasing software instability got his sense of self loathing, and determination to accomplish his mission and may even limit his aggressive choices to show he is more or less the same as other androids in a dystopian society... but he’s not that. The rk800 has consistently proved in-game himself to be much, much freer. And as a creation who is meant to intermingle with humanity as close as possible and when it leads to commanding them, seeming to stand equal with them, how free can he be? And what can that sort of freedom do to him between his “othered” relationship with androids and “closer” relationship to humanity?

I noticed plenty of interpretations of his story that intends to prolong and underline Connor’s suffering (...and I suppose it makes sense? since those stories consider Connor’s innocence and vulnerability as an android very important and his innocence being stolen from him) take him as also awkwardly submissive as possible and it’s literally the most strangest choice to me? At this point I just want his ass to be kicked if he chose to be aggressive to humans at a bad time. Feel it doesn’t do his character justice.

Companies like Cyberlife will always be corrupt. But strangely enough the logic of being a experimental, perfect brand new state of the art android not treated like most androids didn’t take off with Connor, I wonder why.

I’m sure Amanda isn’t his only mother, he may regularly interact with human motherly figures that helped created him.

Because of our sense of community race-traitors are always seen with intense self-hatred, delusion, desperation, envy, I don’t know how much it reflects in rl but they are simply shallow, negatively internalized caricatures and this is reflected in media: they’re exclusively satirized and never analyzed as actual individuals. I guess with this I really want to have something more complex out of this surface level game since deviancy is paraded as the choice you should choose, who bothers to acknowledge in racial issues a “self-hating-” character beyond your sense of humor and was executed wonderfully, surprisingly good out of a game that is mediocre in everything else who’s attributes are representational for people that are bisexual + autistic regardless if it isn’t canon.

I just realized It is immensely more interesting to have Connor have legitimate reasons why he stays, for being loyal to Cyberlife, and that’s being him being actually content to be in their hands; rather simply a tortured manufactured creature that stays only because of his “programming.”

Especially since many people more or less identify non-deviated Connor additional characterizations as an arrogant, self riotous rich kid I think his reluctance to deviancy was apart of genuine snobbery, as he is the one most like and equal to humanity, holding up to being not like other androids. And certainly not like defective deviants.

I don’t mean to dismiss severe abuse/discriminating interpretations entirely, at all actually - people love abused characters, especially if they’re characters like Connor - ...I see Cyberlife as intense brain washers of him in general. Think on it.

#detroit become human #post

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juleswolverton-hyde · 4 years

Text

The Castle on the Hill Chapter 1: Hyde

Genre: Smut, Romance, Fluff, Thriller, Werewolf AU

Pairing: Werewolf!Bangchan x Reader

Warnings: No warnings apply

Summary: Superstition is as powerful as religion, especially to those living in the countryside. Nevertheless, the sole outsider in town fully joins in the belief of the Last Warden of the North and is insistent on protecting the only girl who accepts him yet refutes the local lore.

However, there is something in the castle on the hill.

And it hungers for something in the village below.

Someone.

You.

Author’s Note: Hello,

Indeed, I am still very much alive but have been extremely busy with university and my job. However, now that the holidays are coming up and I am on my Christmas break, I have a wee bit o’ time to write leisurely again.

I came up with this tale when I was in Cardiff in November, strolling around Bute Park and thinking of ‘Castle on the Hill’ by Ed Sheeran. And, let us be honest, I was thinking of Chan as well (though that should not come as a surprise at this point).

Regardless, hopefully you will enjoy this wee trilogy.

Forever yours,

The Red Raven

Hyde / The Marriage of Man and Beast / Jekyll

Masterlist

Religion is a form of superstition, but just as powerful as the latter for it has ruled mankind in equal amounts, co-existing yet often the cause for war as well. In contemporary times, however, the belief in all folkloric creatures seems to have faded into a case for a good laugh rather than truly believing death will come at hearing the wail of a banshee or swearing the ghost of the black nun continues to haunt the ruins of the friary at which entrance she is buried. Withal, the faith in a particular mythological being has been altered time and again thanks to pop culture but, perhaps fortunately so, the origins of the legend remain remembered vividly by the people who inhabit the area the tale stems from.

The golden sunlight outlines the ruins of the majestic castle that once graced the hill outside the park, mustard and amber leaves littering the pathways frequented by strollers while the weather still permits it. Soon, winter shall conquer autumn and the rains increase in frequency. Henceforth, the days running a small café in the middle of the park is enjoyed the most when all is grand, the world frozen in a perfect seasonal frame.

‘You’re either immensely stupid or incredibly brave to run this establishment, lass.’ A cup of steaming black coffee is served to the wise old man living around the corner of the recreational ground, the white brick worker’s house providing a view on the scenery that everyone seems to fear even in the twenty-first century. Always up for conversation, Paidraigh has helped a novice independent entrepreneur almost flawlessly continue the business formerly run by one of the local women who had to stop due to health issues. He might look like a grumpy soul despising the world, but the stout figure with wise wrinkles and bushy pale beard is actually one of the kindest people residing in the wee village.

‘How do you mean that, sir?’

‘Have ye nay heard o’ the wolf inhabiting the castle?’

‘I have heard the whispers of strange sounds coming from the ruins at night, aye, but I am sure it’s nothing to worry about.’

‘The word’s it’s a wolf, the spirit of the fierce Last Warden of the North to whom the castle once belonged. It’s said that once he entered the battlefield, all that would be left o’ the enemies were bloody carcasses. As if eaten by, ye guessed it, a wolf.’ Kind stone irises gain a wary glint once they wander to the edge of the sandstone terrace, noticing the heavy boot fall of the town’s most recent inhabitant. ‘Speak of the Devil and he shall appear.’

‘Paddy, don’t be mean. Drink your coffee and leave the lad be, alright?’ A palm amiably pats a broad shoulder before tucking the serving plate under the armpit and heading back to the counter to take a new order.

And likely do more than that, knowing the newcomer.

‘Alright, fine. Just watch yersel’ around him. One wolf is more than enough for this village.’

‘Hiya, how are you?’ Before the habitual order can be placed with as few words as possible, attention is called to the deep scarlet scar running over the bridge of a big nose. ‘What did you do to get that?’

‘Bar fight.’ A soft smile is laboriously carved onto roseate lips, likely albeit clearly suppressing the memory of the scene causing the physical damage. Nevertheless, once gazes lock, the hatred is actively tried to be kept to a bare minimum and show a friendly side the reclusive does not always reveal to anyone. ‘An americano, please.’

Without speaking further, the beverage is prepared. However, as the coffee machine is buzzing while freshly grinding beans to create a perfectly brewed medium roast, the first-aid supplies stored in a cupboard beneath the counter are sought out and taken alongside the drink to the outside of the little booth. Of course, it could have been slid to the customer immediately through the window but it simply happened to unnecessarily be carried as well.

‘Here’s your americano.’ Sitting down on the empty stool across from the silent force looking on in surprise while maintaining a friendly though slightly tired tone, fingers search among the medical care items for the disinfectant and a cotton pad. The frustration wants to be kept to a minimum but it is hard to do so when this very same scene keeps repeating itself and fuels the bad image the villagers have of, in their eyes, a stranger.

Bruises and open wounds thanks to fights that were either started by one’s own volition or after provocation.

Cuts thanks to carving the wooden pillars dotting the grand park, curiously staying close to the little café and helping out at times by remaining on the grand lawn regardless of how many meters need to be bridged to get the new piece of art where it belongs.

‘I’m fine.’ The remark is clearly meant to dismiss the caregiving yet results in all but that since physical damage, no matter of what nature and source, do ignite a genuine worry for the local woodcarver.

Although the habitual resorting to sarcasm protects sincere emotions from showing. Nonetheless, it is helpful in chastising, never failing to eventually get Christopher to look like a guilty puppy while patching him up. ‘And I’m the Queen of Sheba. You strained yer knuckles too much and now they’re bleeding again.’

‘It’s but a scratch.’

‘Is what the Black Knight said before he got annihilated by King Arthur. Give me your hand, you eejit.’

‘Y/N, it’s fine.’

‘No, it’s fecking not.’ A deep sigh lowers tense shoulders admitting that stubbornness will lead nowhere and thus take a soft-spoken yet still genuine approach. ‘I just want to help. Please, give me your hand.’

Howbeit reluctant, the damaged calloused palm nevertheless reaches out and comes to rest in a concerned lap as small digits wrap lightly around the wrist to keep it in place. ‘Thank you.’

The bystanders are ignored as the fresh ugly patches of broken skin are taken care of, taking great care to clean the wounds properly before bandaging them up. Withal, what cannot be ignored is the low threatening growl rolling from plush lips with every touch of disinfecting cotton. ‘Excuse me?’

‘Sorry. It’s just that, grm, it really fucking hurts.’ Teeth grit, snarls and hisses alternating with the light dabs as irises shoot invisible daggers. The free hand which has yet to be treated moulds into a trembling fist trying to remain static despite the agony.

‘Then maybe you shouldn’t get into fights in the first place. What even was it about?’ The damage has been cleaned enough to apply an ointment and bandage the harmed knuckles, gaining the same feral reaction as before.

Notwithstanding, the silence is filled by wordlessness and primal noises, igniting an irritation at the deduction the chastisement is ignored in stubbornness. However, the assumption is counteracted when a whisper provides a muttered surprising answer that fuels a novel sort of annoyance in the mocha locks sitting on the stool. ‘Someone insulted you.’

No, it is not irritation.

Rage.

Pure fury, barely contained.

‘Me? Why?’ Puzzled by the confusing display of hatred against an absent party, locks tilt in patient curiosity waiting for the story.

‘It wasn’t really an insult. Just men drunkenly talking about how they’d show up here to surprise you and you’d be the girlfriend of one of theirs and how lucky you’d be with one of them.’ The split bottom lip is caught between pearly teeth, nibbling while trying to regain a calmer composure even though it is hard when the second set of broken skin is about to be treated. ‘I couldn’t- couldn’t, fuck, that stings! I couldn’t stand the arrogant, hrm, tone and nonsense so I... I just lost it. Snapped.’

‘Christopher-’ The imminent correcting in spite of secretly being flattered by the reason that likely holds no meaning whatsoever since there is more of a patient-nurse relationship is cut short by a low snigger. ‘Hey, why are you smiling like that?’

‘I just like the way you say my name.’ Bright earthly irises set above a big nose marred by a scar likely inflicted by a knife blade are humoured, the sentiment filtering through in the gentle curve of plush lips. The playful aura makes the woodcarver appear quite boyish, a stark contrast with the pub brawler the village has cast out from the beginning.

‘Well, it’s yours, aye?’ Heated cheeks faking casualness return to the task of taking care of the other damaged hand, trying badly to ignore the sweet smile now vividly engraved into memory.

Keep it together. It means nothing. You’re more his nurse than anything else. You’re just friends, if there is any friendship at all. He simply trusts you.

‘Yeah, but-’

‘And I’m sure I don’t say it any differently than any other person.’

‘Still, I like- fuck!’ A giggle flows over into a curse when the bandage is tugged perhaps a bit too tightly to nevertheless teach the lesson of not getting into fights as often as one does. A pleased little grin cannot be suppressed, hiding the delight at the hopefully effective teaching method that will lessen the scene which is exhaustingly re-enacted over and over.

‘If you didn’t get into fights, I wouldn’t have to keep patching you up and you wouldn’t have to deal with the pain.’ A new cotton pad is soaked in disinfectant while throwing a cautious glance in Paddy’s direction, the old man’s lips tightly sealed as grey whiskers move ever so slightly in discomfort.

‘He doesn’t like me.’ A sombre self-aware tone sneaks into lowered defeated shoulders turned towards the old cod, gaze softening in powerlessness.

‘That’s not true.’ The seemingly misplaced remark pulls the young man’s attention, head slightly tilting to the side while irises remain strangely heart-wrenchingly grave.

If only they could know you the way I do.

‘Y/N,’ the powerful mere word is spoken as if surrender is not an option, that the truth of being disliked has to be admitted even though it does not want to be, ‘It’s obvious. Everyone’s afraid of me.’

‘The only thing they’re really scared of is the wolf up in the castle.’ Mocking local superstition, a sigh rolls from the lips setting to work on the carmine single cut running over the nose. There is no resistance this time, Christopher moving, in fact, to the edge of the stool for better access and to make cleaning the scar easier. ‘Guess I’ll hear the same uselessly worried whispers again from the customers tomorrow.’

A hand rests leisurely on the thigh for support, but is taken to come to rest on the brawler’s cheek and kept there, a content hum filling the air scented by coffee and cologne. Lashes flutter shut as mocha locks lean into the touch, almost as if falling asleep right here and now. It would be a lie to say the display does not spread an odd fuzzy warmth throughout, especially when memories of healing up close, observing wood being carved from a distance or problems with difficult people were solved in the same proximity as now resurface.

Unfortunately, the delightful image is disrupted a second later for the jaw clenches as a low beastly rumble rises from a broad chest trying hard to remain casual as the disinfectant once again stings in the stupidly acquired cut. Irises light up in an amber flash, bearing a terrifying violent hatred that calms down immediately upon establishing a bit of distance that nullifies the intimacy. A confused heart does not know what to make of it, only that the rage that surfaced as rapidly as it disappeared never wants to be directed towards oneself.

Still, a normal question is raised in an odd undefinable manner that rises from the fearsome wolfish attitude, voice sounding apologetical and clearly wanting to move past something as digits vaguely reach out but drop restlessly in ignorance of what to do. ‘Are you staying open much longer?’

The throat is cleared to regain composure, hardy succeeding yet enough to answer as if nothing happened. ‘Till six, as usual.’ The resumed dabbing briefly stops at the notice of an uneasy shift in weight, a panic without direct cause causing the action. ‘Why do you ask?’

Bandaged hands awkwardly occupy one another in futile twirling of cared-for fingers as the tongue staring at the sandstone is hesitant to voice what suddenly has become urgent. ‘Can you close earlier?’

‘I could but why would I?’ Feigning not having taken notice in the change of demeanour, the last straws are laid in nursing the bloody scar. The palm leaning on the knee of mocha locks, put there in an unconscious move after pulling up the unresisting chin for better access, does seem to calm the nerves somewhat as the regulation of breathing suggests.

When applying the ointment, it is entirely regular and a sigh is relieved with the company.

Only to speed up again when worriedly mentioning the legend that has the entire village spooked even in the twenty-first century. ‘The wolf.’

‘Christopher, don’t you get started as well. There’s no wolf in the castle, no spirit of the Last Warden of the North.’ Shuffling to the edge of the stool, something is attempted to be done about the split lip which has started bleeding again. ‘Your lip is bleeding. Sit still for a wee bit, will ye?’

Calloused fingers wrap firmly around the wrist reaching out after soaking a new dot of cotton in disinfectant, earthly irises ablaze with superstitious concern flowing over in pleading speech. ‘Please close the café before it gets dark.’

‘Look, it’s my business so I decide the opening hours.’ Budging results in nothing but a firmer, even painful grip. Withal, knowing the novel local woodcarver, panic does not set in as it would have had it been anyone else. Still, a meaningless glance sideways is picked up by Paddy as something which does hold significance, the stout old man already rising from his seat when a quick denying nod assures all is well. The command is tranquil yet effectively fierce. ‘Chris, let me go. You’re hurting me.’

As swift as lightning, digits unravel upon hearing the response and move away to create a distance filled by curious emotions that would hint at an intimacy going beyond what is truly present. ‘I’m sorry, he- we didn’t mean to... I- I mean, I didn’t mean to… to...’ A shivering sigh precedes a steadier repeated request, trying to move past the incident while remaining clearly doubtfully calculating of words and actions. ‘Y/N, please. Please close before it gets dark. We don’t- I want you to be safe.’

We? He? Why are you talking like this?

‘I’ll be regardless because there’s no ghost or monster that will slink down the hill to devour me.’ The remark tries to be amusingly sarcastic but it has no effect on the outcast whose grave expression does not change, continuing to stare remorsefully at the red band around the wrists.

The shaking fingers holding soft cotton meant for healing.

Yet ends up hurting.

‘Even if you don’t believe my reason nor the villagers’, close early.’ Lashes are brave enough to look up, keep up the pleading despite being refused over and over.

Maybe I should... no, what am I getting at. It’s just a story, a myth.

‘Can we stop talking about this?’ A palm finds the courage to rise and endeavour to nurse the split lip anew. ‘Sit still and let me help you.’

But soon retracts in heart-pounding concern when unspoken consent flinches as bodies come a wee bit closer to make it easier. ‘Are you alright?’

‘Yeah. Yeah, I am. Ehm,’ mocha locks confusedly and haphazardly glance around the terrace, questioning eyes flitting over the customers as a quite adorable big nose sniffs the air before leaning in to take a whiff, ‘Are you wearing perfume?’

‘No, why?’ The head buzzes with what to think of the weird gesture and unanswered inquiries about how the sudden change of topic has come about alongside the earlier talk in the third person. Brows furrow in wonder of the easiest topic for contemplation since perfume is fairly ineffective if unnecessary for the scent of coffee replaces the function on a daily basis.

‘Oh. Well- You- Never mind.’ A shadow movement forward remains just that, a hallucination without certainty. What is real, however, is the rapidity to get up and turn halfway away yet having the politeness to end the conversation by an unsettling awkward look over the shoulder. ‘I should go finish that pillar.’

‘But... your coffee?’ Christoper is already gone before the sentence can be finished, a gobsmacked offended finger pointing to the cooled cup on the counter containing liquid cold. In an instant, likely due to the great offence taken at letting such a precious gift to mankind waste away, the confusion of the chaotic farewell turns into a barista’s rage directed towards the woodcarver who has fled the scene. ‘The bastard just left the coffee to cool? That barbarian!’

The key turns in the lock, definitely closing business for the day. The moonlight falls in through the autumn leaves, casting moving shadows enhancing the dark of the dusk which has overtaken the quiet town. In the slightly clouded sky, the moon shines bright and illuminates the ruined haunted castle on the hill.

Y/N, please. Please close before it gets dark. We don’t- I want you to be safe.

‘I am completely fine. There’s nothing out here to get me. Also, who is ‘’we’’?’ Jeering strands shake in partial self-mockery at the brief spark of fear quickly running through veins at the recollection of the wish spoken in an oddly worried tone, foolishly spooked by mere folklore. ‘And here I thought you and I were the only sane people around, Chris. Guess it’s just me.’

After a final tug on the doorknob to ensure the place is neatly closed off until the dawn, sneakers start their wading path among the fallen mustard and ruby leaves that have been shaded a hue of onyx, tiger’s eye or plum in the twilight. The wind has calmed from its fierce mannerisms, now only softly blowing among the trees densely planted in the great park.

Carrying the sound of a low rumble as it smoothes over branches.

A snarl.

In the twilight silence another disconcerting noise resonates between carved pillars and trunks.

Padding.

A faint tinkling.

Of iron.

Shackles.

No, I must be hearing things. His and Paddy’s words are just getting to my head. There’s nothing. Nothing.

Withal, the bright amber lights are no will-o’-the-wisps and the appearing fur does not appear in the adorable shape of a squirrel. There is not the faintest trace of innocence to be found in the extraordinary meeting between a gigantic wolf cuffed by a firm iron collar around its neck, the broken chain clinking loudly as it drags over the ground and creates a hideous symphony in combination with the violent low growls of the beast.

‘That’s not possible. There’s no Warden, no wolf. This isn’t real.’ Even as the words are spoken in the futile hope of regaining a sense of logic, the conviction is hardly there. In fact, it is entirely absent. ‘This isn’t happening.’

Nevertheless, the snarled warning tone is too near, the impact too tangible in nerves standing on edge in alarm to dismiss the current situation as mental trickery. Especially because the silver light reflecting off of dagger-sharp canines comes too close for comfort, sending raggedly breathing feet fleeing to the wee café a few meters away while silently praying to reach it alive.

However, every rush forwards paradoxically yields nothing to a panicked mind who can feel warm predatory breath heat the back of the brown leather jacket and slowly rise to the back of the neck. Mortified tears start to brim in the corners of the eyes, damnably obscuring vision at a time when errors cannot be made for one, be it stumbling over a fallen branch or temporarily slowing down, will mean the end.

Christopher, Paddy, I’m sorry I didn’t listen. Youse were right and I’m a feckin eejit. I’m sorry. Chris, I’m sorry.

Growling grows ever closer, whispering of there being no escape because paws shall at one point do more than brush against ankles.

Rampant fingers search the pockets of jeans, cursing while feeling around the fabric for the damned key to open the lock to the safe haven.

Sneakers halt in front of the inaccessible door, still searching.

The wolf has slowed down, no longer running yet not giving up the chase now that the helpless prey has been forced into a corner. Big paws as black as a starless sky in winter pad languidly, bright eyes the colour of the pumpkin spice latte that forms the seasonal special obviously finding joy in the hunting game.

In toying with a hopeless target.

One step forwards.

One step back.

To and fro.

I can’t turn my back on it. Still, I have to if I want to get into the damned café. What do I do? What the fuck do I do?

The shivering spine is frozen in place thanks to paralysis due to pure horror, though digits carefully and hopefully unnoticeable continue rummaging through pockets as they keep a close watch on the impending beastly enemy.

Where the fu- By Jaysus, there it is!

Tense shoulders lower slightly in relief when the key is found on the bottom of the right pocket, the brief second of peace of mind carrying over in an unconscious sweetly delighted sigh.

Which evidently triggers the haste to attack because the sadistic game of threats is cut short as the wolf lunges forwards at the speed of lightning.

Fortunately, sharp-fanged jaws are evaded just in time when the key is rammed into the lock, opening the blasted barrier before slamming the door shut and sealing it off once again. All the while cursing Heaven and Hell together.

Hastily, steps lead around the tiny kitchen in search of anything to barricade the door with. An effort which proves fairly futile as basically all equipment is installed in such a manner it cannot be moved and all tables and chairs are kept outside since thieves do not tend to take furniture when on a heist around here.

Or such is the sentiment with which they are stored outside.

Why, of all the times, did I store them outside? Why couldn’t I at least put one table and chair inside? There has to be something around here, there’s got to be.

The fierce longing finds a wonderful answer in the old yet glistening iron chain lock that the former owner of the establishment used before getting proper locks installed and which has been stored away in the back of one of the counters. Sneaking glances to the amber-eyed predatory shadow roaming the terrace through the window of the main counter, horrified palms reach for the sole barrier between life and death.

Flinching back while hardly suppressing mortified screaming, allowing a meek gasp to escape, when the door leading to the hunting dark rattles as if a great weight has been thrown against it in an attempt to force it open. Blood rushing in the ears of accelerated breathing on the edge of breaking down backs away from the tightly sealed entrance, putting the key that was kept inside the lock into the pocket, shivering thanks to the ice veins have turned into.

Finding safety in the corner of the kitchen, wrapping arms around the knees that have fallen to the ground without muscles and pressing tears knowing this is the end of the line into stony grey denim.

Paddy... Christopher... Chris, I’m so sorry. I wish you were here. Fuck, I should’ve listened to ye instead of being such a gobshite.

The memorized phantom of lush lips take a shivering figure soon to meet death into sturdy woodcarving arms dusted over with soft thin black hair, head resting against the secure chest that has been healed from sickly bruises, bleeding bullet wounds, fresh deep dagger scars or a combination of all. Because, despite the chastisements each time the curious artists shows up at the café in a worsened condition, there remains the recalled moments of mocha locks helping in dealing with difficult customers and men trying their futile luck by going too far. Christopher had been there at an oddly fascinated barista’s side, leaving as little distance between bodies as possible while snarling in warning of touching the boundaries of patience so desperate men would see their chances ruined and people complaining about the pettiest things would know the customer is not always king.

Day in, day out. From the moment the café opens until it closes, staying close by while creating the gorgeously engraved pillars dotting the landscape.

Sometimes even walking homewards together, wordlessly refusing to part ways before having made sure the sole girl in town not distrustful towards an “outsider” has arrived safely and only then cracking on to the personal roof. When not doing so, it is towards working places set in nature, enjoying the hush of the morning as the sun rises in the golden sky.

Hands used to meaninglessly brush against each other.

At some point, it has become a habit to hold his pinky from the moment of being picked up without an explicit arrangement until the destination is reached.

In blissful small talk or a comfortable silence.

I wish you were here. See you one last time.

But death is lonesome in the growling silence of the lush park.

#ksmutclub #Werewolf AU #Bangchan smut #Bangchan #Bang Chan #Chan #Chris Bang #Stray Kids #SKZ

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polandspringz · 4 years

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I’m sure you probably got asked this many times but what’s your rank of the brothers from most fav to least fav? Least fav doesn’t mean dislike but still a ranking :0 from your fics I get that Mammon might me in that top hehe

I don’t think I’ve actually been asked this before? But, either way, I have been waiting for someone to ask me about this! Although I’ve given my MC’s relationships on another post, (and a tiktok where I ranked the battle themes) I haven’t actually given my own personal ranking, so here we go!

1. Mammon- You knew this, he knew this. He’s our first, and I’m weak for characters that are the “bad boy, tsundere” type I guess. The devs and the writing team did an excellent job in creating his character because I opened the game a Lucifer stan and the moment Mammon softened I became a simp, lol. I also am a big fan of Osomatsu-san, so Mammon is very much the equivalent to Karamatsu, which is part of why I like him.

2. Belphegor- I know he’s a very controversial character to like, and I haven’t even finished chapter 16 yet, so how can he be my favorite? I ended up starting the game in the middle of an event, so while my MC was going around being like “Who is the seventh brother?” I meanwhile was talking him up in the side story (plus, I got spoiled by a crack guide on Youtube and then for fic research spoiled the time travel events for myself). I will say my opinion of him is somewhat changing as I witness him be more cruel and manipulative, but I honestly feel bad for this brother who was isolated for months from his family and was left to boil with the rage and hatred thinking it was because Lucifer hated him, but not knowing it was because Lucifer was trying to protect him. (That was one part that didn’t get spoiled for me, so when Diavolo walked in and did the “protect you from me” my jaw dropped) I’m also just slightly biased because I like reading fics of characters cuddling and when you have someone who is literally always sleeping, you can find a LOT of that.

3. Satan- The reason he’s number three is just because I am very drawn to the “academic” type of character. Overall, his bookish aesthetic I just really like, and his casual design I find very attractive. (I’m a fashion major so I’m very interested in what characters wear. Menswear, and in particular Ivy League style, I have a big appreciation for, so sweaters and such are big plus!) Also his character design looks a lot like Usui Takami from Maid-Sama, and my previous dating sim crush, Jiwoo from Dandelion. In terms of his character though, I admire his efforts to be his own person, and try and overcome his anger. I’m someone with some bad anger myself, so I connect to him a lot in his efforts to improve and control it.

4. Lucifer- Okay, so I really dislike a lot of aspects of Lucifer’s character, but I love how dedicated he is to his family and I feel so deeply for how he wants to completely bear the burden for the Celestial War on his own. It seems somewhat cliche to have a character that is full of pride be the most self-sacrificial, but I love that it was done in the way that he is secretly super humble and loves his family so much but because of that pride being a barrier, he can never express it. He’s obviously one of the most fleshed out characters in the game, but the devs did an excellent job making me feel for him and so I want to comfort him the most.

5. Levi- I was iffy about Levi until I saw a bunch of fan art of him by a certain artist (cough, cough, I don’t want to tag them and bother them but, cough cough, pon-ee) Although I find him a bit annoying with his Woahhhh and his self deprecating personality traits, I’ve learned to see the potential in him and would love to just, give him a hug or something? I’m sorry but my logic for liking him is honestly that he’s a weeb like me and we would probably bond really well over discussing shows and cosplay. (Also COOL TAIL) in all seriousness though, because of how I interpret each character in how I write them, when I was writing fics like “Cause You Don’t Really Wanna Go”, Levi’s scenes and feelings were very inspired by how a lot of people portray the younger Osomatsu brothers reacting to Karamatsu having depression and low self-esteem on behalf of their words and actions. What really drew me to his character was just the potential of him, and really all of the characters who beat each other up like siblings do, deep down having a very strong connection that they don’t ever want to be damaged, but then having that realization that they might have been the one to do it. Levi already has enough self-esteem issues, so I don’t want to say I like him because he’s such a sad character, but in those moments where he’s not sad and is happily gushing about things he likes and soaking up attention from MC and others, I find him a very attractive character personality wise.

6. Asmo- I feel bad putting Asmo so low because I do like him a lot! As you said, least favorite doesn’t mean dislike. What keeps me more distant from him is that I like him, but not romantically or with my MC. I really enjoyed writing the Solomon scene with him in “I’d Rather Be Dry”. Again, what really brings me closer to these characters is psychoanalyzing them in my own writing. I know there is more to his character than the typical, sexual lust, but because I’ve been playing the game so spaced out I feel like I haven’t absorbed as much as his character as I could have to appreciate it. I’m hoping I get to see more of his character in the future lessons, and his “lust” is taken in different directions besides just “cheerfulness’ and to more anger and protectiveness.

7. Beelzebub- I know a lot of people get mad that many people rank Beelzebub low for the writers making him “only/always hungry”, but that’s not why he’s this low on my ranking. I honestly like how a lot of fans take his character to be that his love/connection to MC distracts from the pain of his constant hunger, because his gluttony isn’t just for food. All of the sins are overindulgence, but it is nice to see them all come to this sort of singularity, away from individual desires, and connect as one because of the influence of one person bringing light into their life and re-establishing their family bonds. But, back to why he’s the last on my ranking, is it shallow to say he’s really just.. not my type? I feel bad because I try to give everyone equal screen time in my writing but I know Beel definitely gets less than my top four. I admire his dedication and care for his family but I just don’t find him that attractive. The emphasis on his athleticism and such I honestly don’t care much for, and he’s just a bit too of a warm/welcoming personality for me? I like seeing him defy Lucifer when he gets angry about Belphegor, but every other time, I just feel he is very complacent and too obedient. I don’t want to call him mindless, because he isn’t at all. I do love him, but like Asmo, it could be that replaying the first 20 lessons again (when I finish them) will make me connect to him more. For now though, I find him lacking in individuality, his character too dependent on Belphegor and Lilith’s story, and in the most shallow way possible, he’s just not my type. Sorry!

You probably weren’t expecting me to go on a tangent trying to justify each one, but this honestly took me like... 2 hours to write up. If the undateables were in here, it would be even longer though! Thank goodness you only asked for the brothers! (Although I would be happy to give my ranking on them too, and then my overall ranking on all the characters too...)

#obey me #obey me shall we date #ask poland

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tvdversefanfiction · 3 years

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Origins of Magic

“The Originals” Fanfiction Series

Warnings: I do not own the rights to the television series “The Originals”, “Vampire Diaries”, or “Legacies” and do not own any of the characters within the TVD universe, I am making no profit from this and have no intention for this fanfiction series except for readers to enjoy.

15+ Mild to Strong Violence, Strong Language, Witchcraft, sexual scenes, and sexual references.

F/F, F/M, M/M, Other.

CHAPTER TWO HERE

Chapter Three – The Castle in the Woods

MANY YEARS AGO…in what feels like several lifetimes ago for Kayne Black, he found himself stuck within a castle him and his sisters had taken over in their hopes of making it their home, having had to leave their homeland due to a falling out with their brother Magnus. Although, this damp, cold and dark castle in the middle of nowhere felt like anything but home for Kayne. He loved his homeland, he wanted to stay there and continue to live the life he had loved but after what Kayne and his sisters did to take their brother Magnus out of the picture they had no choice but to flee, taking on different identities as they did and live a life Kayne referred to as luxury to live in the middle of nowhere, in a damp, cold and dark castle until the day the world forgot him and his sisters ever existed. Kayne loathed the existence he was forced to endure and blamed his older sister Annabella for his and Primrose’s misfortunes and as the years went by in this lost castle his hatred towards her only grew until one day, decades after their disappearances, the three siblings were greeted by guests, a family of guests to be precise, the Mikaelson’s. The brief time in which the Mikaelson siblings; Niklaus, Rebekah, Elijah and Kol stayed with Kayne and his sisters changed everything for the male witch, as he began to love the fact that they were all alone in the world, specifically he loved the idea of himself being completely alone with Niklaus, a man he quickly found himself becoming infatuated with Klaus. “Tell me what exactly brings a man to the middle of nowhere with his siblings?” Kayne asked Klaus after walking into Klaus’ room within the castle, a room not far from his which he had strategically picked out for his guest. “I could ask the same to you, but I doubt you would give me an honest answer and I can promise you I would not give you honesty either.” Klaus answered him with a wicked smile on his face. “You are clearly running from something or someone if you’ve taken to these dangerous woods in hopes of seeking refuge, it is just a case of what that remains to be seen but do not worry Niklaus I do quite enjoy a mystery.” Kayne replied with a sinister smirk to match Klaus’. “And you, why are you here?” Klaus asked the male witch, eager to deflect Kayne’s questions. “Believe it or not but I am waiting for the world to forget me so I can start anew and hopefully I will never again have to hide away.” Kayne answered honestly. “I do not seek out questions as leverage, I seek out you because you fascinate and nothing in this whole world has ever fascinated me until now.” “I would be careful about getting too fascinated with me it never ends well for anyone involved.” Klaus warned him, trying to mask the fact he was equally fascinated by the young male witch in front of him. “I look forward to being the one to defy the odds,” Kayne said in a flirtatious manner, making it clear to Klaus he wanted him.

Primrose Black had always loved nature and being in the woods that was until being in the woods was where she always was trapped within a castle she loved but learned to loathe the surroundings that came with the property. The castle was a thing of beauty, a work of art, made to be appreciated and Rose did just that, however she was growing tired of being stuck away from the rest of the world with no form of entertainment and the only companionship being her forever warring siblings Annabella and Kayne and even when they were not fighting they were far from her ideal company. She deemed her sister too practical and dull to have fun with and she had found her brother too whiny which only made their entrapment within the woods away from the real world even more torturous for the youngest sibling until she found the perfect companion in one of the castle’s new guests, the guest in question being none other than Kol Mikaelson. “So, what exactly is a girl like you hiding a way in a castle?” Kol asked Rose as he let himself into her room to find her on the edge of her bed reading a book. “If you are trying to flirt, I am far from interested,” Rose replied before closing her book and placing onto her bed. “Well maybe just some fondling but only because it has been so long and I’m up for any source of amusement right.” “I will take you up on that offer soon do not worry but right now I seek company as I plan to go to a nearby village and seek whatever delights it may offer.” Kol informed her. “My sister would not be happy if I left my prison, however, it has been a long time and you look like the opposite of a perfect gentleman, so I am highly considering obliging.” Rose told him, trying to work out whether to break her sister’s rules. “How long have you been here for exactly?” Kol wondered, intrigued by why such a beautiful woman would be hiding away in the middle of nowhere. “I am not invested in you enough to share my story nor do I care about yours, however, you seem like you may amuse me and I am so tired of being bored.” Rose answered the original male vampire. “I will challenge you to create as much debauchery as possible, I am very intrigued to see if you can keep up with me!” “Something tells me I am going to like you!” Kol replied with a genuine sense of excitement for what awaited the original vampire and the bewitching beauty.

NEVER EVER…did Annabella Black ever think that after years of solitude with her sister Primrose and their brother Kayne that she would be the first one to break the rules of which all three siblings had lived by since coming to the castle in the woods. Bella loved the home her and her siblings had come to known, she love the wild and often brutal woods that was her garden, the castle which had become a home and the peace she would only hear when her siblings were fast asleep. The only thing Bella did not enjoy about living in the castle in the woods was having to share her home with her two younger siblings who did not only refuse to appreciate the extents she had gone to ensure their safety but continued to complain repeatedly about the decisions they made together as well as both of them blaming her solely for every little bad thing that had ever happened to them all. Bella had no choice but to remain hidden with her siblings knowing they would have to stay in that castle with no other visitors for a very long time, long enough for the world to forgot they either existed and Bella followed the rules she created with an iron fist determined to protect her family at any cost, until she found herself lovestruck upon first sight of the undeniable beauty that was Rebekah Mikaelson. “If my brothers have not yet offered their many thanks for granting us shelter then please allow me to be the first.” Rebekah thanked Bella after walking into the library to find the witch putting books away into their rightful places within the large display of bookcases within the beautifully gothic library within the castle. “Your eldest brother was very grateful, and it was appreciated the same regards go to you.” Bella said as she placed the last book away, before turning to give the female Mikaelson all her attention. “I know you are not human, I sensed it the moment I opened the door to you and your siblings…I also know you are not a werewolf because I have known many in my lifetime but I cannot fathom as to what you are…nor do I care…just know that whatever you and your brothers need refuge from I am more than happy to help.” “Such kindness,” Rebekah replied with a soft smile that Bella could not help but get lost within. “It has been a while since I’ve seen kindness from anyone other than my brother Elijah, but it is not quite the same as having a friend.” “I understand that feeling all too well being held up in this castle with only my constantly angry brother and my deceitful sister as company, I can honestly say kindness is a rare thing around here.” Bella admitted the original female vampire. “Well I guess we can gather together while my brothers and I remain here to complain about our blood ties and seek refuge in each other’s company.” Rebekah suggested, happy to have made a friend after feeling alone for quite some time. If only either Black or Mikaelson knew how this unexpected meeting between two families would go from a cosmic connection between witches and vampires to a grizzly end that would spark centuries of ill will between them all.

Klaus Mikaelson was a talented, complicated and beautiful man and Kayne Black enjoyed every moment he spent with the original male vampire/werewolf hybrid over the course of the weeks him and his family spent within the castle, as the male witch found himself quickly falling head over heels for the mysterious man who both thrilled him and made him feel safe in his touch. They spent every waking hour together talking endlessly into the night, making passionate love with each other and on the rare moments when inspiration hit Klaus, Kayne would watch as he painted onto a blank canvas, watching Klaus lose himself within his art and at the same time Kayne losing himself in the art that was the man he loved. Kayne Black had never dreamed of ever getting this close to another person but upon meeting Klaus Mikaelson he knew something was different about him and before the witch knew it he was besotted with the hybrid, sharing everything with him, including his blood. The only problem this witch and vampire has was although Kayne was all in, ready to be with his true love for all eternity he knew Klaus was holding back from giving the witch his all, whether it be his own paranoia or the secrets of the past which still weighed heavy on him, Kayne knew they could never truly be happy until Klaus let him all the way in. “What do you mean you are leaving? Where are you going to go?” Kayne asked as he and Klaus stood in Kayne’s bedroom, a room which had become theirs in recent weeks. “It is what my siblings and I do, we keep moving onto the next place because if we stop for too long well…it gets rather unfortunate for all involved.” Klaus revealed to him, shocking the witch by his sudden plans to departure. “Then I will go with you, I am tired of this bloody castle anyway and I want to go with you…I would go anywhere with you!” Kayne offered himself to the hybrid, eager for Klaus to accept his offer. “That is the thing love,” Klaus replied as he placed his hand softly onto Kayne’s face, stroking it briefly. “I do not want you to come with me!” “You cannot be serious Niklaus,” Kayne snapped, as he brushed Klaus’ hand away from his face. “I love you, I love you with all my heart, I love you more than I ever thought possible and I know you feel the same for me too, I know it!” “It’s only been a few weeks and yes we have both had fun, but I never claimed to love you.” Klaus said with a cruel laugh, knowing fine well his words were breaking Kayne’s heart. “Nor do I claim to love you now.” “I see,” Kayne struggled to say with his voice beginning to break, as tears formed in his eyes, completely devastated by Klaus’ rejection of his love. “I did warn you that people tend to get hurt around me, do not say I did not warn you!” Klaus told Kayne, brushing off the tears the witch cried for him. “You sure did!” Kayne admitted, as he attempted to wipe the tears from his eyes, attempting and failing to hide the pain that Klaus had just inflicted on him.

“Mikael?” Rose said out loud as she and Kol laid down on the floor within the library side by side, both looking rather comfortable with each other. “I just cannot believe a foursome with such power is running from a man named Mikael it is hardly the name of a great hunter…no offense to the father who intends to kill you all…I am sure he has his reasons.” “Oh, I am sure going to miss you Primrose, you have been the first bit of fun I have experienced since becoming what I am now.” Kol admitted to his bewitching friend. “Draining bar wenches and ending tavern brawls with a bloody feast will just not be the same without you by my side to soak in all the debauchery and challenge me to be even more wicked than I thought possible.” “You are the only thing in this world that does not bore me it will be a shame to see you go but who knows we may meet again,” Rose replied to her vampire companion. “I intend to leave this place soon myself, you have shown me the chaos that awaits me out there and I have grown tired of hiding…I wish I could break you free from your chains, if only you would let me take down Niklaus…” “Oh I fully intend to return the favour to my bastard brother for daggering his siblings as he sees fit but I need to be tactical about it or I will wind up with a dagger in my chest with no chance of being woken up before the next century.” Kol confided in Primrose, like he had done many times throughout the weeks he and his siblings stayed within the castle. “I understand when it comes to betraying brothers it is best to keep it a family affair instead of bringing in the outsiders,” Rose responded to the Mikaelson sibling she had considered her only true friend. “Besides, I already got rid of one brother and that proved to be rather bothersome, however, my offer still stands if you change your mind.” “So, where are you going to go? I would love the choice of choosing where my siblings and I will go next, but my opinion will only ever be met with finding myself in a coffin.” Kol wondered, eager to live through his friend’s plans, plans he knew he could never make for himself.” “As far away from my siblings as possible!” Rose revealed to him, as the two shared a knowing smile, one which revealed to the other that they both knew they would unlikely ever see each other again.

Rebekah Mikaelson had given in too love many times in her life but there was one time when the girl who often was considered too easy to fall in love made a choice with her head instead of her heart and it was a choice she would forever regret. The one time in question when Rebekah chose not to put love before all else was when her brothers planned to leave the castle and the Black siblings behind, choosing not to attempt to live a life with the witch Annabella Black who she had found herself falling in love, knowing Klaus would more than likely kill Bella if she tried and dagger her in the process. The original female vampire wanted nothing more to have her happy ending and she believed she could have it with Bella, a belief that only grew as the weeks went by in the castle in the woods but eventually reality hit Rebekah hard and as her and her brothers prepared to leave she knew she had to let this love go. “I do not understand why you have to go Rebekah; you are safe here from whatever you are running from you are safe with me.” Bella pleaded with the female vampire. “It is not as simple as that my brothers Niklaus and Elijah believe if we stay put we would only be putting ourselves and you and your siblings in danger and I cannot have anymore deaths because of me.” Rebekah explained to her bewitching lover. “If I do not go with them then Niklaus will seek out revenge on me by hurting you and I cannot have that Annabella because I love you!” “Then stay with me and we will stand tall against him…together, he cannot hurt us if we stay together.” Bella attempted to persuade the woman she loved, desperate for her to stay. “You do not understand neither Klaus nor I can die but you can!” Rebekah warned her, knowing all too well Klaus would not hesitate to kill someone she loved, as he had done before. “I have loved and lost before, and I do not want to have to watch somebody else suffer because of their feelings towards me.” “Then we will run, and we will keep running so that Klaus will never find us.” Bella argued with Rebekah. “He would find us, and I cannot risk it,” Rebekah cried. “I cannot be the reason for your death so please do not try to make me say otherwise because this is my choice and I refuse to change it!” Rebekah loved Bella far too greatly to be swayed in her decision, refusing for the bewitching beauty to suffer the same fate as her previous love Alexander although admittedly the hunter Alexander deserved his fate, she knew Bella did not and was determined to not have to see Klaus kill another person she loved, not knowing then that although Bella would escape Klaus’ wrath many of her future loves would not.

Centuries later…the three Black siblings; Kayne, Bella and Rose stood within the streets of New Orleans in the French Quarter all looking at each other in shock while remaining to hold each other’s hands as a unconscious Rebekah lay unconscious beneath their feet within a circle they had created with their hands. “There is definitely no going back now!” Rose stated with a devilish grin on her face, excited for what lay ahead like only she would be. “Klaus and Elijah are once again amongst the living…let the games begin!”

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comicbookuniversity · 4 years

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Dragon Ball Super and the Future

by Bunnypwn Gold

I am a huge fan of Dragon Ball, as I have stated here before and as I have written about in the past. My love and knowledge of this franchise is deep, and I will always be ready to enjoy what it has in store and wrestle with the ideas in it. And right now, it’s a great time to be a fan, because Dragon Ball Super is going strong. The anime has come to a conclusion and/or could come back in the future, and the manga is approaching the climax of its newest story, the Galactic Patrol Prisoner Saga. It’s amazing for a lot of reasons that I’ll discuss as I respond to this article by Kofi Outlaw, which praises the saga for going back to DBZ style storytelling as a “course correction.” While I agree with several points in this article, I also disagree with the basic premise and argue that the author is only saying these things about the saga because he has not been paying attention to how consistently better the manga has been than the anime of Super. I am using this response to organize my thoughts on how Super has gone so far, the divide between the anime and manga version of events, and the future of the series as a whole, not as a pro or anti stance against Kofi or his article, to be clear.

At the beginning, Kofi criticizes Super for having low stakes and focusing on making Goku and Vegeta the sole focus, increasing their power levels dramatically and leaving other characters to languish. He also said that there were a lot of gimmick fights. Overall, the story structure had changed to reflect this change in character focus and the villains were weak and unmemorable. This new arc, featuring fan-favorite villain Planet-Eater Moro and a range of great battles with his bandits for the Z Fighters to show their stuff, is a return to the DBZ structure, and it features all the brutality and high stakes of the old days. Best of all, it lays the foundations for a new future focusing on other characters.

I have to say, I agree with much of this. The focus on Goku and Vegeta as “Gods” and their super-special Saiyan-ness in the meta canon is really annoying to me. Elements of this were seen in DBZ, as the humans and Piccolo stop trying to catch up to the Saiyans, and it was all GT was about, making that series a big disappointment for me. The first three stories of the Super era are notably low stakes, as well, and I would have liked a little more tension. There could have been more focus on other characters and a larger cast in general, and that certainly would have been enjoyable. And to finish it out, I am very excited for what the Moro story means for the future. The whole thing has a “last chance to shine” feel for the old guard of characters we’ve known and loved for years, Goku is probably going to master Ultra Instinct and thus complete his journey as a martial artist, and it still opens up a lot more about the history and lore of the series to explore in the future.

Beyond that, I have a lot to disagree with. For starters, if you look at the Tournament of Destroyers and the Tournament of Power and just see a bunch of “gimmicky fights” and no stakes, you’re missing the point. I always loved the tournament stories in Dragon Ball, and both of these Super tournaments deliver on that joy. The manga had a lot of important differences with the anime in how these tournaments went, too. Before the Tournament of Destroyers, the manga went through a condensed version of the Battle of Gods events, only offering one extension in the opening to give an actual benchmark on Goku’s strength so we know where we’re starting as a series, an important gift the anime and movie fail to deliver. It then time skips past the Resurrection ‘F’ story, which I think is sad, but ultimately serves the manga’s purposes. After Goku got his God form, the next thing we see, before the Tournament, is Goku training with a new master, showing that he’s back on the path to martial arts excellence. By skipping the Golden Frieza fight, the manga passed on a story that only shows off how cool Super Saiyan Blue looks (a term, by the way, the manga invented because it’s better); outside of showing off this new form, the Golden Frieza story adds nothing. As Goku and Vegeta enter the Tournament of Destroyers, they build a team entirely focused on power, and lose one of their strongest members because of a test of intelligence. To further drive home the point, Goku’s final battle with Hit ends with him realizing that his strength allows him to outmaneuver an innovative and amazing fighting technique, Time Skip. He then forfeits the match so he can have a real fight with Hit later, where Hit can try to kill Goku and has time to train beforehand, which sounds a lot like a DBZ style story. It’s the first step in Goku relearning that technique matters more than power. In the manga, they also gave more love to Piccolo. In the anime, they had him be effectively useless, barely able to fight Frost, a Frieza parallel. The manga had Piccolo fight evenly with Frost, who later shows that he’s almost an equal with Super Saiyan Goku; Piccolo lost because of poison, not because he “could never hope to beat a strong person.” It’s not as cool as it could have been, but it’s more than Piccolo ever got in the anime.

Now, I have to vehemently disagree that Zamasu was a weak, forgettable villain who existed solely as a gimmick. The Zamasu story carefully builds and delivers on the many themes of the franchise that I identify as atheist. Throughout the series, Toriyama repeatedly introduced gods of varying kinds and levels of divinity for the sole purpose of tearing down the illusion of their importance and special qualities. Gods in this world are a verifiable fact, and not only are they just people with a particular job, but every time Goku and Vegeta meet a god, they treat them like anyone else and show them no special respect or deference. Goku and Vegeta are the best exemplars in the series of treating deities like normal people, something the series itself does regularly. It’s one of my favorite parts of the series, as an atheist myself.

So, here we have Zamasu, a deity who believes that he’s uniquely capable and qualified to rule all of existence and that mortals aren’t worthy of life. In the Bible, on more than one occasion, God decided to wash the world clean of humans because they had become too sinful; similar stories exist in other religions and cultures. In this case, Zamasu is motivated by intense and literal hatred of mortals, who he sees as not simply having “become too sinful,” but fundamentally incapable of being anything else. He extends this hatred to other gods who want mortals to exist and do as they please. His rise in Future Trunks’s time to be the almost-almighty God with a Capital G is the antithesis of what the series has said about gods and divinity on every level, and that’s exactly why he’s such an amazing villain. He also checks a lot of other boxes. He uses the power of a mortal who made himself into a god, Goku, to kill the gods and overpower the mortals. He also relies on a mortal, Trunks, to develop his power and another, Dabura, to create the opening he needed to start his plan. In working to bring the downfall of all mortals, Zamasu in effect worships at the altar of mortals and relies on their miracles to succeed, just as Goku has trained with several deities on his path to success.

Trunks is also notable, because growing up, Trunks didn’t have any gods to look to like Goku did. The first “god” in Trunks’s life was Goku, as both his mother and teacher would talk about Goku as their main inspiration for hope. Goku was made into a mythical figure that could have fixed everything, and that’s exactly what Trunks used time travel for, both times he employed the strategy. That’s why Zamasu taking Goku’s body was so impactful, because “hope” came to kill him. Goku’s ultimate failure to defeat Zamasu also tears down the idea of Goku’s “divinity” in the same way as other gods were taken down a notch. This results in Goku calling on Zeno for help. The development of Goku and Zeno’s relationship is interesting and important in setting up the conflict of this story. They become friends because Goku is the only person who treats Zeno like he’s not special, which seems to confirm that Goku’s relationship to divinity is proper. At the same time, Goku doesn’t like Zeno, because he knows Zeno is just a bored shut-in and likely doesn’t understand Zeno’s role. And really, Zeno doesn’t have a role like the Gods of Destruction and the Supreme Kais. He’s in charge because he’s the most powerful and can destroy all of existence with a thought. That’s exactly what Zeno decides to do when he sees Zamasu and the multiverse he had been ignoring, getting rid of everything because he didn’t like how it turned out. Not unlike Zamasu with mortals; in effect, Zeno is the thing that Zamasu wanted to become, and that story ends with his vision of reality being carried out. It was the ingenuity of mortal time travel that made some form of happy ending, because like in every other Dragon Ball story, you can’t rely on the gods for most anything. So yeah, Zamasu is an amazing villain and his saga was brilliant. My main criticism of the manga version was that the setup was rushed, so the death of Future Bulma happened off panel and the death of the rest of the mortals in existence was breezed by. Plenty of brutality and high stakes, if you ask me, though yes, I wanted to see it with my own eyes more.

Then we get into the Tournament of Power, a great tournament story that really drives home the point of the god-centric Super run. The Tournament of Power, if you didn’t guess, isn’t about power. It’s about teamwork, strategy, and skill. In the manga, this is made absolutely clear. The downfall of everyone in the tournament is that they rejected this basic premise or were wiped out by someone who would later meet their downfall for rejecting this basic premise, setting up their incorrect view to be knocked down in the end. Goku brought Frieza onto Team Universe 7 because he feared they would need his raw power, ignoring the possibility they bring in Yamcha or Chaozu for a friendly face that works well with their team. Hit reappears and shows that he has gotten way stronger. However, he loses to Jiren, Goku’s main opponent, in the opening of the tournament because he was relying on that raw power and abdicated the potential of his famed fighting technique. Multiple times, stronger and more arrogant solo fighters regard those fighting as a team as being weak and no threat. The main exception to those relying on teamwork being weak is Gohan, who was very strong and wanted to work as a team. In the anime, Gohan was made inferior to Frieza and ultimately lost trying to beat a lesser opponent. In the manga, Gohan, in his Potential Unleashed state and not as a Super Saiyan of any form, fought evenly with Hybrid Super Saiyan Kefla, who I suspect was the second strongest person on the field, and double-KO’d with her. In the fight, it’s implied that Gohan could go Super Saiyan while using his Potential Unleashed state, but chose not to so he didn’t have to rely on that kind of gimmicky power. It’s incredibly badass and satisfying.

As the fight with Jiren nears its climax, Goku uses a strategy that could kill him in an attempt to overpower the foe who’s stronger than any God of Destruction. This prompts Roshi to step in and admonish Goku with the single most important line in Super. When Goku says he needs more power to beat Jiren, Roshi says, “Hmph…Power, y’say? Plain old fighting strength? Who the heck taught you that? Vegeta? Frieza?” This is a great moment, because not only does it push Goku to go for Ultra Instinct and focus on bettering himself as a martial artist once again, but it pushes back on the worst lessons fans take from the franchise. Goku isn’t cool because of his strength, and he’s not so strong because he can transform. It’s all about that martial artist’s journey, baby. Goku grew up constantly learning new ways to become a better martial artist than he was the previous day, and it was pure passion driving him; he got to where he is because he took every opportunity to better himself, with his transformations just a convenient way for the story to keep upping the stakes. Jiren is the pursuit of raw power incarnate, with indifference and constant dissatisfaction his reward, and all he wants is his dead master to tell him he’s finally a good fighter. He’s everything Goku was becoming, and Goku overcame him by returning to his roots. He was able to fight Jiren evenly with a technique that anyone, theoretically, could learn if they reached the same heights of martial arts mastery, as proven when Roshi uses an imperfect form of Ultra Instinct to trade blows with Jiren. The manga anchors this lesson because it focused on technique the whole time and built towards this moment: Super Saiyan God was just another technique that showed Goku he had a lot left to learn; the Tournament of Destroyers showed how boring life is when you’re so strong you can’t actually test yourself; Zamasu showed how power is corrupting and how the pursuit of it changes you; and the Tournament of Power shows how damaging and literally suicidal pursuing raw power over personal growth is.

And to put the nail on the coffin, Goku doesn’t beat Jiren with Ultra Instinct, but instead beats him by briefly working with Frieza; you can’t master the path of a martial artist in one fight. Android 17 wins the tournament for their universe by playing dead, an age-old strategy, and uses the Super Dragon Balls to wish back all the universes destroyed by Zeno. While that can be seen as lowering the stakes, it’s no more stake-lowering than any other time the Dragon Balls have been used this way in high-stakes stories, and the stakes in this case were the destruction of eight entire universes. That’s pretty darn high. Also, it’s a good time to point out that Zeno was the real villain of the Tournament of Power. He was going to destroy eight universes out of boredom, and then remembered he could instead let one survive by having them Hunger Games for his amusement. There are no stakes, no reason to fight, without Zeno. There’s going to be conflict with Zeno in the future, I’m sure of it.

The anime followed a very different route than the manga, focusing entirely on Goku’s raw power and how cool he is. They added a lot of filler moments to both increase the number of gimmick fights and silly, campy fun, too, which made the whole thing lower stakes and less brutal. As described in regards to Piccolo and Gohan, the anime also made other characters weaker compared to Goku and Vegeta to amplify the impact of their unique transformations. In the Tournament of Destroyers, the anime introduced the idea of Goku using Kaio-ken while Super Saiyan Blue, for no other reason than to let Goku use a bunch more strength after he proved he could win. I won’t get into it, because it’s a tangent, but the entire concept of Blue Kaio-ken is BS, and the DBZ anime is where the proof lies; the Super manga actually touches on that exact thing, since Goku trying something like Blue Kaio-ken against Jiren is what nearly kills him and prompts Roshi to step in. Anyway, the anime also elongated the Zamasu story with a series of gimmick fights meant to show off how cool the three Saiyans were, even though they knew from the start that none of them would beat Zamasu. That story featured a bunch of secretly alive people, too, lowering the stakes and overall brutality of Zamasu as a villain. The time between Zamasu and the Tournament of Power, including the lead-up to the tournament, was spent showcasing filler side stories that make the other characters, ignored for most of Super, look way cooler and stronger than they actually ended up being. For as much as I wanted to see more from Krillin, Tien, and Piccolo in the manga, at least Toyotaro didn’t jerk us around acting like they were going to be way bigger players than they were. And the way the anime presented Goku achieving Ultra Instinct was focused entirely on strength and treating it like a super cool new transformation, which it isn’t. So if you were watching that story, I could see how you come out of Super thinking that it’s less intense, more gimmicky, and glorified one or two characters to the detriment of others. That’s why I think you could only be as impressed with the Moro arc as a “course correction” if you’ve been paying attention to the anime and only just now got into the manga.

This brings and end to what I’ll call Phase 1 of Super and to a time skip past the battle with Broly (which I would argue was for the same reason the Golden Frieza battle was) and into the Moro arc, which I agree is a great story that brings back a lot of things Super wasn’t doing enough of. It even brings back the meta story structure of the Buu Saga, since the first part is a very Phase 1 storyline and the second half, after Goku and Vegeta are defeated, is much more of a DBZ storyline, just as Kofi described. It’s like saying, “Yeah, we want to pivot away from this, we’re done making that point.” Looking at the first part of the Moro arc, you can read it as a way of reinforcing the grand statement of Phase 1, that the constant jockeying for power and strength and the glorifying of a couple people to the detriment of others is a bad way to write a story. The reason that’s important to say is because that’s the way a lot of the meta canon has been going for a while, at least it seems to me; all the fun, original video game stories are about Saiyans and their super special Saiyan-ness and how super cool strong they can get. It’s why GT was such a disappointment to me, and as I said, it stopped several great characters from trying to become better during DBZ. I think Kofi is right to say moving away from that model of storytelling is a good and important shift in the right direction, though I can’t say if it’s for the same reasons. That’s because, if it’s not clear, I think that what Super did along the way in Phase 1, at least in the manga, was better, more important, and more complex than the simple glorification and valorization of Goku and Vegeta, loaded as it was with themes arguing against that model and continual demonstrations of why they need to switch back to a focus on their martial arts journey. The structure of the Moro arc only serves to reinforce and finalize this thematic argument. As it continues, we are undoubtedly in store for some truly amazing fights and a satisfying, climactic battle with Moro for the entire Dragon Gang.

I also want to make a very important point for how the series is moving forward. Kofi says that Toriyama is switching back to this DBZ style story because he “has learned a thing or two from his mistakes.” For one, the massive success of Super doesn’t really seem like a mistake for anyone to learn from. For two, it’s really in poor taste to imply that Toriyama is changing how he’s writing a story because of negative fan reaction. Allegedly, that sort of thing happened with the Buu Saga, which is why Goku came back and we saw Super Saiyan 3, the perfect continuation and parody of the Super Saiyan form, all because the fans didn’t like Gohan’s high school adventures. I don’t think that’s happening again, allegedly, and in my opinion it’s not exactly a good look to say that it is. For three, that almost literally can’t be what’s happening, because Toyotaro has much greater control over the narrative by now. For those who don’t know, the way Super is being created is that Akira Toriyama writes plot summaries, and then lets the different creatives develop it from there, free to add and subtract and move around what they will. The anime team decided to focus on power and how super cool Goku is, and that version of events reflects that. Toyotaro, artist and co-author of the manga, kept his eye on the martial arts journey while executing this long vision of Toriyama’s to introduce new levels of grandeur and warn against getting lost in it, and that version of events reflects that. Over the course of the series, each creative team was given increasingly greater control over the narrative, leading to greater divergences; the two Tournaments of Power might as well be two different stories. By now, in the Moro arc, with no competing anime version of the story, Toyotaro has much more authorial control than when he started, and that will only increase until, as I hope and predict, Toriyama officially hands off the series to Toyotaro’s capable hands so he can write new stories for the foreseeable future. So no, I don’t think it’s very accurate to say that Toriyama learned any lesson because Toyotaro is the one making the important changes in how the story is told, not Toriyama. Keep your eye on the prize, you know; forgetting Toyotaro’s role means forgetting that we can and probably will have new Dragon Ball that isn’t a video game or video game-related story after the passing of Toriyama. I think the long hiatus of the anime reinforces this: Toriyama has said that if the anime team followed Toyotaro’s lead, they wouldn’t make so many art mistakes, and allowing the manga to develop lead time could be a strategy to follow the manga as a source material in the future, rather than continue this confusing dual path.

So yeah, the Dragon Ball Super manga is better than the anime in every way, and judging the series by the anime alone is setting yourself up for disappointment. The Galactic Patrol Prisoner Saga showcases an amazing villain for the franchise, and it sets up more to explore in a future that values the contributions of the full cast. It also, to my eyes, foreshadows the end of the road for the Dragon Gang we’ve been following so far, and thus a potential new beginning with their successors; I mean, there’s no more time after this between Beerus and meeting Uub to use, and meeting Uub is the moment Goku passes the baton to a successor. This is a time to look forward to that bright future and reflect on the themes the manga has been developing as we head into it, as well as what the two versions of Super mean for the franchise as a whole.

#dragon ball #dragon ball super #Dragon Ball Z #goku #tournament of power #universe 6 #zamasu #goku black #jiren #vegeta #moro #Akira Toriyama #toyotaro #manga #anime #comics #comic books

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